#'are you sure.. this can give you heart palpitations'

[thecuriousquest]

Yandere Alphabet: Yuji Itadori

Yan!Yuji Itadori x Fem!Reader

@murderofravens

Warnings: NSFW (NO SEX MENTIONED but does contain slight sexual themes), Yandere themes, dominant behavior, clingy behavior, delusional behavior, ass worship, spanking punishment, kidnapping, breaking of Darling, various kinks (ass kink, ass worship, etc.), blood, violence

Master List

It’s been a while since I’ve done an alphabet prompt. Thinking about doing Choso and Sukuna next (😝 that’s what she said).

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Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He shows his love through protecting you. He’s fucking up curses with those heavy hands. He goes to great lengths to stand up for you and make sure you’re safe. His overprotective tendencies can get pretty intense. Forcing you to be with him or stay home may very well end up being what you’re dealt.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Yan!Yuji is very willing to cover his hands in blood if it means keeping you out of harm’s way. Whether it is a human, half curse, or full fledged curse, he doesn’t really give a damn. To him, an enemy is an enemy. It’s all the same. He’s lost too many people to lose you as well.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Yuji treats you like glass at first, but then he becomes a little bit rough with you once the “honeymoon” phase ends and he starts finding reasons to discipline you. He would never mock you, though. Yuji might accidentally patronize you from time to time without realizing it, but he would never be so cruel as to mock you intentionally.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

If you want to wait for marriage, that’s fine. Yuji can wait. But just letting you know, that marriage is going to take place pretty damn quickly. He’s not waiting a year to see what it’s like to be…so intimate with you. And whether you want it or not isn’t something Yuji is necessarily concerned with. Don’t get me wrong. He wants you to want it. But if you don’t, then he will just have to make you love him in return. He will also force you to kiss and hug him.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He’s such a guy. Like an actual guy who doesn’t really talk about his feelings like that. He tells you he loves you and that he wants what’s best for you, that he’s doing everything he can for you. That’s about all you’re getting.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He wouldn’t be too thrilled, but there’s a very small chance that he could forgive you and turn it into a game if he’s in the right mood. Either way, he’s stronger than you in every way possible. He’ll just pin you down on the floor, your wrists bound with one large hand above your head. He’ll mount you, and he’ll wait like a lion cornering his prey. “You done? Tired? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It’s not a game. 100%. I repeat: NOT A GAME. Fighting him is very different from running out the door. He doesn’t like that you’re actually trying to get away from him like that. He doesn’t appreciate it either. After all, he’s just trying to keep you safe from a terrifying world! How could you do this to him? It’s not like it takes much to catch you anyway since he’s so fast. That’s not even the point. You’re supposed to stay and be a good girl for him. No, this is not a game, and he does not enjoy it.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Making him so mad to the point where he’s not yelling, he just goes quiet. That’s the worst possible situation to be in. He’s got his eyes solely focused on you while his heart palpitates with rage. This might have even occurred the first time you tried to escape and he had to drag you back. This is the worst because he’s not even saying anything to you, and you have absolutely no idea what he’s thinking or what he plans on doing next. You have to sit there and wait, and that’s what kills you the most.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Yuji wants to marry you. He wouldn’t necessarily mind having kids at a later age, but he would only want kids if you want them. Other than that, a nice little house with you would be the ideal picture.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets jealous, and he lashes out at you. There’s no way to sugarcoat it. Yuji is a man who isn’t afraid to speak his mind. He will tell you when your actions are pissing him off, even more so if your actions involve interacting with a man that isn’t him. He will lay everything out quite plainly: you do not get to hang around other men, especially if he’s not present. If he finds out you were, there’s going to be hell to pay.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Oh, Yuji loves anything that has to do with affection. He loves having you sit on his lap, kissing you, hugging you, play wrestling with you, giving you light spankings, anything that involves putting his hands on you. He’s shameless about it, even in public. He’ll grab the fat swell of your ass and jiggle it out on the streets. Man loves your butt.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Chocolates and roses. Need I say more?

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Absolutely. Looking at this guy, you would never in a million years think Yuji is capable of the things he has done to you. He will sneak into your apartment and place a hand over your mouth, scaring the absolute fuck out of you. He will leave you notes about how he “saw you with someone” and “will deal with you later”. He puts on this innocent and chipper facade around others, but alone with you, he’s a dark and dominant yandere with only you on his mind.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Yuji’s preferred method is spanking, obviously. He has your ass on his mind all day. He just loves jiggling, slapping, pinching, and grabbing your butt. So when you decide to mess up and act defiant or out of control, Yuji has the perfect way to reel you back in and make you understand you are not to act out of line. He likes a bit of bratty behavior here and there, but when bratty becomes bitchy and it happens too often, then hell bare your ass and drag you over his knee, pinning you against his thigh with an arm draped over your lower back. Maybe learn to keep yourself in check next time so Yuji doesn’t have to, but he doesn’t mind. Really. That’s what a loving boyfriend is for.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You have zero rights with this man. He takes away everything from privacy and personal space to even letting you choose what you wear. Yuji likes to pick things for you, it’s his way of extending that little bit of control even further until it slowly wraps around your neck like a noose.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He can be patient. He can be very patient…a little too patient in fact. However, he has his limits. He doesn’t like when you push him away. That’s the one thing that always breaks him. He’ll yell at you, grab your wrists and pin you down. He’ll snarl in your face as spit spatters your skin, his cheeks heating up from so much anger he’s exhibiting. And you have to lay there and take it all.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Nope. He’s going to remember you for the rest of his life. He’s going to think about you every night before he falls asleep. He’s going to hold onto hope that the universe will find a way to bring you back to him.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

It’s highly unlikely that Yuji would feel guilty about abducting you. You’d have to really cry and beg for Yuji to let you go. Now, he has a big heart, so that’s not what I mean. It’s just that Yuji is a clingy and slightly delusional Yandere, so he’s probably going to think you’re actually upset over something else, and he won’t really feel guilty about kidnapping you because now he has access to you 24/7.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Jennifer Lopez aside, he has a fascination with women who notice his darker desires. This is different from noticing him. These are the women who look at him and can tell that something is off. And he knows when this happens, can sniff it like a bloodhound. He savors it like a delicious meal. If you notice him and act a bit scared, you might as well just be asking for it because you have his attention now, and he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Again, this goes back to Regret. Yes, he hates seeing you cry, he would rather you be happy because he’s at his happiest when you are at your happiest. However, he thinks you’re upset over something else. His mind doesn’t understand you crying because of his actions or something he said. Isolating yourself never goes over well. He just wants to be around you…all the fucking time. It’s another behavior that he doesn’t understand.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He would actually have posters of other girls on his walls while holding you captive.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His soft heart. Play the part of his good girl. Sit on his lap, smile at him, give him kisses. He will let his guard down eventually.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Sometimes, it’s on accident. Aside from a punishment spanking or a warning smack, if he gets really angry, he’ll push you. I mean like push you-push you. You’ll probably get knocked out from conking your head against the wall so hard.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He likes to kiss your ass. Leave sloppy, wet trails from his lips, sometimes leaving little bite marks. His type of worship is more of an ass kink than anything. It’s not an actual worshipping because he sees you as his little love to control rather than an actual goddess to worship.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It doesn’t take long. Yuji falls in love with you pretty quickly, and he would probably spend a few weeks to maybe one month before he starts revealing hidden parts of his personality to you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

He likes a broken little bird that he can take care of. He’ll snap your wings just to make sure you don’t fly away. He will break you if that’s what it takes to make you realize that you belong to him, that you were made to be his, and that there’s no one else to go to.

[neet-elite]

↳ EVENT 22. M!Robin (Anal)

Pairing: M!Robin/ F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,917 Warnings: anal, virgin!reader, first time anal sex, premature ejaculation, creampie, cum eating, ass eating Prompt(s): 19 — anal Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: SORRY look. u give me an inch to be fluffy and i'll take a mile. i just love writing about love, especially when it comes to loser men who are too in love to do anything about it. like completely fucking desperate men who can't help themselves. this is the kind of robin we all need <3 i hope u enjoy this!

Despite his attempts at remaining calm, cool, and collected in the presence of someone as perfect as you, especially when you look up at him so endearingly with those big doe eyes, his fingers are still trembling against your thighs like he doesn't know what to do with himself or you. An unmistakable need to playfully pinch and prod present in how they twitch against you, something about getting rid of all that anxious tension built up in his body, right? Rather than anything more mean like an attempt you turn you as nervous as he is, feeling so suddenly out of place between your trembling legs as if he was experiencing his first time with you all over again. Surely you're just as anxious as he is, right? Even after completing all of the necessary steps of prep, making sure that you're as uncomfortable as possible in your submissive position under him; he battles with himself. Do you understand just how difficult his position is above you, too?

Peering down at you with rapid blinks, lust filled gaze a little blurry because he's not so sure as to what he wants to focus on more. Immediately, your face is eye catching. That cute scrunched up expression you wear just so well that it has his cock leaking all over your cunt right now, dribbling insistently against your slit when you pout prettily up at him. He wants to ask you what's wrong, but he can't seem to find his voice as he simply hovers above you, merely squeezing at your inner thighs in self indulgent perversion— you can't rightly blame him though, can you? Even just the thought of your pretty tits alone is enough to leave him rock solid in his pants, idly thinking back to the many, many, nights spent all alone on his bed just thinking of you and how erotic your pretty body is, mind filled to the brim of too many dirty thoughts focused solely on you. So to have them completely exposed to him right now, heavily rising and falling under his watchful gaze with soft little pants for air is fucking amazing, honestly. Even if he's saw them, played with them, and sucked on your tits plenty times before, he still finds his chest filled with palpitations as he stares down at them again; got him acting like a fucking virgin and you're not even doing anything! Simply laying there with a knowing glint in your eye, a slight smirk on your lips.

And of course, your tummy. So soft and cute, how it begs for his hands to pinch and tickle if not for the way he clings to your thighs for dear life. He nonetheless feels an urge building within him to bend down and kiss at it, to trail his lips all over your tummy in an effort to map out every inch of your skin, but he refrains. Or, rather, he's too chicken to actually move right now, considering the special circumstances tonight. But just know, that deep in his heart and even deeper in his cock, see how it twitches against you right now? he wants to love all over you. Wants so badly to leave a wet trail of his affection all over your tummy, an act of worship, or perhaps ownership is better suited.

After all, not just anyone would be allowed to do what he's been given grace to tonight, right? Right?

Shifting his gaze further down, of course, he meets your cute cunt. How tiny and tight she is, puffy clit probably throbbing with need as his drooling tip brushes against it, huh? He doesn't mean to tease you so much, a sheepish laugh escaping him once he notices just how gently he's rocking his hips against you— feels so fucking good though, right? Slipping between your folds like he's done a hundred times before, smearing precum all the way from your clit down to your hole, and back up again. The little sighs his tip knocks out of you without even needing to be buried inside goes straight to his ego; and his cock. Made worse by the fact that he doesn't think you even know what that eye roll you give him does to him. A pit in his stomach twisting tighter, coaxing his hips to rut against your front just a little faster— at least until he lets out a shaky sigh and decides it's time to take the final leap. Moving his eyes down, down, just a little bit further as he draws his hips back... It's a little funny, he thinks, how he feels like a virgin all over again; but it makes sense when his eyes land square on your pretty looking asshole. Undisturbed and pure, so mesmerizing to him in his lewd state right now, breaking out into a sweat the second he stares for a little too long. Gulping at the prospect of ruining its innocent nature with his profusely dribbling tip.

Honestly, he's more than just a little riled up at this point. Horned up from the moment you had even suggested the idea of anal— something he had originally thought would have been completely off the table, but is nonetheless overjoyed to have you be receptive to the idea; let alone suggest it to him one night. Excitedly gathering all the supplies one might need, taking such good care of you tonight, didn't he? Touching you so gently, rutting against you so softly, opening up your unexplored hole for the first time ever with a heart full of love and a heavy cock. Timid fingers doing their best to promise care and attention, finger fucking your tight little asshole open wide enough to accept three of them, wincing with you not out of pain, but because you feel so hot inside. So soft and squishy, cock trembling out of sheer excitement to feel those same warm, spongy walls enveloping him.

So yes, his position above you is a difficult one. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly in an effort to keep his barely there composure intact, but the pretty little whine you let out at his inaction is enough to coax him into movement. Bucking his hips against your cunt once or twice faster, unbridled need to resolve the tension in your core coaxing him a little out of his shell for your own benefit.

He's so in love with you, can you tell? From the way he practically melts above you, humming down at you with sincere affection, a tender smile inherent on his face whenever he dotes down on you.

"Are you ready?" He asks you gently, slowly, each syllable of every word dripping with all of the awe and affection he regards you with; even in such a simple question. Heart hurting at the adoring expression you adopt, all pretty smiles and fluttering lashes— you're the prettiest girl in the world to him, always have and always will be. But especially when you're under him like this. Hair spread out all across various pillows, sheets delicate and bundled under you, decorating the softness of your frame so well. He wants to take an actual photo of you, keep a mental snapshot of how fragile you look right now. A thrum of pride running through him at the privilege you've offered him by being privy to the sight of you in such a vulnerable state, batting your eyelashes up at him as a silent plea. What do you need, baby? Ask, and he'll do it. Fuck, you could even ask him to get you the moon and he'd do his fucking best to, would do literally anything you'd ask, simply because of the honour he feels by being by your side.

And the way you so meekly nod up at him, sugary sweet dulcet tones coaxing him closer, convinces him to at least press his tip to your little asshole in the meantime; awaiting his courage to build. Rimming the outside lazily, as if he has all the time in the world to indulge, ignoring the tight clutch your existence has on his body in favour of patiently waiting for your answer. Because there's nothing sexier to him than to receive your explicit consent before ruining your insides, tainting your cute asshole with his beads precum in waiting. "I think so." You plainly mewl up at him, the shy tone you adopt going straight to his balls with how full and fat they feel for you, teasing himself upon your hole like it's all he knows. The world quite literally in his palms as he helps spread your legs a bit further, a little wider, in preparation to accept his love. Or, more crassly, to shove his rock hard cock deep into your virgin ass. A pleasure, of course, to know that you trust him enough with such a disgustingly perverted task.

He privately promises to not let you down.

Still, despite your confirmation, he struggles to find the courage to fully dive in. Heart stuttering out of unadulterated affection for you, spilling out of the tip of his cock in copious amounts of precum he plays around with while dropping a fist to the base of his cock to angle it better, circling his tip against you slowly, almost sensually as a light taunt before he inevitably has to give you what you want.

And it's not that he doesn't want to be balls deep in your ass; he's just a little afraid that he won't preform to your liking. Wanting to do his absolute utmost to make you feel good so that there's hope in the future for him to be between your legs like this again. But the heavenly sigh you sound when he gently pushes against your hole, teasingly threatening to enter as you shake and shiver under him, convinces him to give you more than just a light poke. Instincts kicking in in an effort to hear you make more of those sweet sounds his cock ruts out of you, easing his way inside of your little hole with intense care. Slow and steady, making sure to occasionally draw his hips back every second or so to make the glide inside all the easier on you; though he's leaking enough precum to dirty your lube soaked insides anyway, but he's so conscious about not hurting you as he gradually pushes more inches inside. His face resembling a look of pain from the sheer tightness of your ass around him, an unfamiliar squish wrapped around his length that he can barely focus on because he's all too busy listening to the brief gasps and cute whimpers his cock cautiously humps out of you.

He only realises he's fully sheathed inside of your tight asshole when he tries to hump more of his cock inside, and instead he ends up rocking you on the bed a little. Harshly exhaling a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding in, quickly panting above you when he pulls his hips back once again, leaving only the tip left inside of you with a shaky grin on his face. A wobble in his lips, tongue poking out to wet them before he asks: "Are you— S-shit—" Cut off by the way your insides clench and squirm around his sensitive tip, willing himself to remain still until he finishes his sentence.

"Are you sure you're— Uh, I mean, t doesn't hurt, does it? You'll tell me if it hurts, won't you? You're ready, right?" Is he? Looking down at you through squinted eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling sharply above you to try and hold himself back, because if he had it his way, he'd already be railing your body shape into the sheets under you by now. Cock twitching and drooling inside your ass, lust crazed mind just begging to get moving already—

"Uh huh." Is all you manage to say in response to all of his questions, but given how fucking horny he is right now, and how hard his cock throbs for you, he simply can't stop himself from thrusting into you the second you give him consent. A bit too fast for his own liking, but he's similarly unable to slow down once he feels how fucking tight and good it feels to fuck into your asshole. To feel the rim struggle to stretch around his intrusion, fat cock bullied into the too small hole over and over again as a smile tugs on his lips.

Fucking knew it'd feel so good, holy shit— he thinks to himself, providing you only heavy heaving breaths and high pitched broken moans, unable to contain his enjoyment from the moment he starts a fast enough pace to leave him dizzy. Reeling with pleasure, almost immediately falling on top of you with both hands placed on the back of your thighs, keeping your legs high and up over his shoulders to allow him an easier time to sodomise you as best he can. Really leaning his weight behind every thrust, resting his head against your own with an unnatural smile, forced upon him from how downright dirty it feels to be fucking your ass like this, to be knocking out every whine and whimper from your pretty mouth with every greedy thrust he offers your hole. Like a fucking dog, panting and drooling against your neck when he shifts to moan down your ear— wants to let you hear exactly what your little asshole does to him, how getting to fuck you in such an abnormal fashion turns him on beyond belief; fuck, you don't fucking get it. How every time his balls slap against your ass with a muted plap!, echoed by the fat globs of lube dripping from your hole every time he pulls his hips all the way back, how the way your legs tremble and lock behind his neck, effectively pinning him in place balls deep in your ass, or how your nails desperately cling and claw at his back every time he bullies his cock all the way inside; it's all too much for him.

Especially considering the amount of teasing he's not only had you suffer through, but had to endure for himself, too. Greedy with his affection, selfish in his desires to ruin you that he's only went and ended up fucking himself stupid within just a few minutes. Repeatedly humping you with fast strokes, forcing you to feel every hefty inch of his fat cock fucking your ass into his shape. Pretty girl, offering yourself up to him on a silver platter— it's obvious that he wouldn't be able to help himself from ruining you. Staining your ass with shared slick, cock throbbing against your squishy insides with every gush of lube he fucks out of you, tightening his grip on your thighs to signal something growing inside of him, a burning in his tummy that he isn't quite aware of until it's too late. You just feel so fucking good, baby. Making him feel so dumb with it, made him so unfairly stupid inside of your tight little non virgin ass now with fast fucks; this could only end one way.

It's also because he just loves you so, so, fucking much. An almost unbearable amount, if he's honest. Heart hurting in sheer adoration for you and your tight fucking body, oh my God. His nails dig into the fat of your thighs once again, his jaw tight and balls taut as a gasp crawls up his throat—

"Ah—! Fuuck—!" His moan is drawn out and hidden in the crook of your neck, cut off and picked up again due to the amount of frustration he feels for cumming already so early, sensitive tip spilling a fat load of seed into your too tight ass, his eyes rolling back in equal parts overstimulation from how well you ass squeezes cum out his cock, and also from upset over how the experience is already practically over. Too zealous in his efforts to make you comfortable, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine when he continue to lazily fuck his cock inside to ride out his orgasm, making sure your asshole takes all of his cum like a good girl with repeated ropes shot as deep as possible. Balls heavy on your backside until he's done.

He may have came prematurely, but he'd still like to enjoy himself with his favourite girl, so he makes sure to keep fucking you full until he slips out due to softening, and he can feel his cheeks heat up in response.

To remedy his misgivings, especially after you've given him such a special evening, he mumbles swift sorries in your ear before snaking down to shove his face between your legs; an attempt to hide his embarrassment as well as to reward you for treating him so well.

"Let me make it up to you." he mutters against your clit, giving it a quick kiss before dipping lower, nosing at your hole on the way down before sticking his tongue out to eat his cum from your ass. Kitten licking soon turned into full on lapping with the addition of his thumb on your clit, determined to make you feel even a fraction as good as you've made him feel tonight. That, and he'd like to help clean you up— one greedy gulp at a time.

[22ratonthestreet]

@jacquelying yeah

[quadrantadvisor]

The Owl House takes place on a corpse. That's clear from the beginning. The people we meet, the fantastical things we see, every part of it is life that comes from death, and it's beautiful. Luz says that, the first time she's far enough away to see the bones. It's beautiful. The Titan was so full of life and magic that what he left behind could be passed on and made anew, and the people who sprung from that, who rely on it, understand that and are grateful. Everything they have is built on the bones of a god.

But what grows from the bones of children? Nothing. Nothing at all.

The Titan hunters killed children. They said they were monsters, but they were children. Children who played games and laughed and from their first conscious moments wanted to be loved and belong. And they hunted them to extinction, and kept their pristine skulls as trophies. An entire room full of them, of tiny skulls that could've become something wonderful and terrible and life-giving but never had the chance. They wear them, as a badge of honor. Look what I've done, look what I destroyed.

Philip Wittebane had been making grimwalkers for hundreds of years, sure, but even knowing that, there's so many of them. How many could've reached 20? There's piles of them, of bones and identical masks, scattered at the bottom of a pit, and god, were they dead, when he threw them down there? It's clear that he doesn't care, that the only thing that matters is disposing of them once they wear out their usefulness, moving on to the new model. Children tossed aside, left to rot and decay, and when we see them the bones are all clean.

[pascals-doll]

bed of roses

ellie williams x reader

🫧 continuation of candy | u dont have to read it since this can be a story on its own!

🫧 TYSM FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE VDAY SPECIAL 🥹 i hope you cuties enjoy pt 2!!

🫧 thinking about ellie’s strap all day 🥲

🫧 description: smut smut smut, very cute surprise at the end!, valentines day surprise, dom!ellie, sub!reader, reader gets fingered on stairs, fingering (both receiving), strapon!sex (reader recieving), ‘p’ in v sex, panty sniffing (ellie), body worship (reader receiving), power dynamic, back scratching (ellie receiving), finger sucking/gagging, no use of y/n, use of pet names (pretty mama, mama, doll, pretty doll, and babydoll),

“augh-god! ellie” you moaned out, your hand going to grip the stair-railing as you swore you started seeing clouds.

after completely devouring ellie on the staircase, you guys calmed down momentarily.

catching each other’s breath, sharing soft kisses as ellie tells you how much she loves you.

until she began to kiss your neck which eventually lead to her sucking all over both of your tits as her fingers fuck you relentlessly.

“the prettiest tits in this entire world” ellie utters against one of your tits as the other is messily palmed by ellies hand.

“ellie s’good-augh fuck m’gonna cum!” your moans got louder as the forming of your words got sloppy, not being able to comprehend shit in your fucked-out mind.

“oh the night is just gettin’ started mama” she pulls away from your nipple, smirking at you like she was hell’s #1 sinner.

your mouth goes agape, eyes squeezing shut as your feel ellies fingers fuck you through your orgasm.

ellie’s fingers curling into your pussy causing your back to arch within her lap.

“good mama, thats it. cum all over my fingers” she encourages you, slightly moving your hips along with the movement of her fingers.

ellie craddled you as your orgasm melts you into her embrace, legs completely limp in her lap.

ellie planted the softest kisses on your face and forehead “dont get tired yet, babydoll” she whispers in your ear as she runs her hands through your hair.

once you felt yourself coming back into reality, you lifted your head up from in-between her shoulder “we-we should pick up your poor teddy bear” you state weakly, giving her a soft grin.

“yes, ill get it mama” ellie returns your smile, chuckling sweetly.

ellie helped you up, giving your ass a squeeze through your mini skirt “perfect lil’ass” she states playfully, licking her lips.

“shut up and tell me you love the bear” you tell her, just wanting her to come close to you; missing her warmth.

she continues to walk over to you, stepping up the couple steps of the staircase before you meeting you halfway on them.

she bends down to pick up your bra, not caring much for you shirt.

“i-” ellie begins before stopping to plant kisses all over your face and neck, once again but this time she crouches down slightly; scooping you up.

“fucking love the bear” as she completely takes you into her arms.

you let out a squeal out of slight surprise as ellie scoops you up, using most of her strength. you wrap your arms and legs around her, your mini-skirt riding up.

her hands squeezing your ass as she walks up the stairs.

ellie walks down your shared hallway, you in her grasp as you kiss along her neck and toy with her hair.

you didnt miss each pathway of petals that scattered the wooden floors as you got closer to your shared bedroom.

your heart felt like it was going to palpitate out your chest. your mind couldn’t begin to process how lucky you got.

once ellie arrived into your shared room, she put you down gently “dont turn around yet” she says, moving from infront of you to guide you while also making sure you couldn’t see.

“you can turn around now” the second she says that, you wasted no time turning around.

your jaw immediately dropped to the floor as you see a small light-sign that lights up the words ‘you and i forever’, roses and petals all over the floor and bed, and lastly with 3 different heart-shaped boxes of chocolate.

that wasn’t it, ellie had one more surprise but you were just gonna have to wait.

“you-i-you” you tried to speak, but you could barely form a sentence as ellie yet again, found the way to take the words right ouf your mouth.

“just hold on here, yeah doll?” she asks, kissing your temple softly. you gave her a quick nod before she headed into your shared closet.

while she was in the closet, you took upon yourself to quickly grab your pink silk lingerie robe from your dresser.

you stepped out of your mini-skirt since you were already shirtless; leaving you only in your pink heart design thong.

you put the silk robe on, only covering you from being completely naked since you already basically were.

ellie stepped out of the closet in her sports bra but still having her boxers on.

you were on the bed, you had already put aside all the gifts that were on the bed. you weren’t wasting no time.

“you’re so fuckin’ breathtaking” ellie utters breathlessly. she had to let her eyes take you in from head to toe, wether you were wrapped up like a burrito or completely naked goddess statue; you looked absolutely enchanting every single time.

you could completely entice ellie at any give moment, you had her under your spell with just a look.

“take all of me, ellie” you whimper out, extending your leg to reach out to her as she stalked over to you.

“say it again, doll” ellie’s eyes were engulfed with hunger, getting ready to ravish you. she finally crawls ontop of you.

one hand holding her up as it pushed into the bed and the other one helping you rise your hips. ellie pulled down your thong, bringing it up to her nose.

she took in the smell of your arousal, she could’ve licked your underwear if she wanted too; completely wanting to be taken-over by the smell of your wet cunt.

“take all of me, every single part of me is a part of you.” you devoted yourself to her.

there was no one else that you wanted to be completely one with; ellie felt the exact dsme way.

those words leaving your mouth felt like music to ellie’s ears.

“i fucking love you doll, s’fucking much. till the end of this world.” she begins to passionately ramble as her hands eagerly begin to grope you.

ellies hands began by giving your thighs a soft-squeeze then going up to massage your hips, from there going to fondled your hickied titties; robe slipping to the side.

“mmhpm-so wet for me already” she utters out in a pleased tone as she sees your pussy glisten by your juices as she spread your legs apart.

you bit your lip, feeling impatient. you leaned up slightly to pull her down but she didn’t let you.

“nuh uh doll, you already pleased me enough. be a patient lil’girl” ellie coos, taking one of her hands from your breasts slowly tracing its way down.

ellie’s hand found its way to your dripping pussy, her fingers slightly toying with your hole “please-please” you grind your hip up into her two fingers, she retracts them.

ellie turned to her nightstand, turning away from you momentarily. you were confused but gave her time before questioning it.

when she turned back to you, she turned back around with her blue strap-on.

your mind automatically went nebulous.

“please wha’doll ?” her smirk cause shivers down your spine as she returned to towering over you.

your hands impulsively found their way to her back “fuck me till the sun comes up” you meant it, looking her dead in the eyes as you wrapped your legs around her waist.

“your wish is my command, mama” ellie’s eyes felt like daggers pricking at your skin, you felt such delectation at being at ellie’s mercy.

your back arched into her, your breasts pushing against hers “you can take m’cock doll, y’done it before-it’s okay” she soothes you sensually, her lips going back to wander all over your neck as she pushes your legs up to your stomach.

ellie slightly pulls away, to align her strap with your soaked hole. you lifted your hips up impatiently causing ellie to hold them back down aggressively while slamming herself inside you.

“fuck ellie!” you erotically wailed out her name in such a way, it made ellie want to ruin you even more.

“who can fuck this sweet pussy?” ellie grunts out as her hips snap against your skin “huuagh-you! fuck-only you!” you moan out, pleasure being the only thing known to your senses at the moment.

you felt her strap bumping your cervix slightly as her thrusts got more vigorous “s’good-feels s’good!” your fucked-out babble only becoming amusing to the demon that was your girlfriend in this bloody moment.

“what was that, doll? couldn’t hear ya” ellie smirked out, only fucking into you more ruthlessly before moving one of her hands to rub your clit with delicacy.

“awh god! ellie-puh-ah!” you tried to plead through your tears and overwhelmed moans “shh doll, you’re taking me perfectly” ellie coos, the hand that wasn’t rubbing your clit now went to your face.

she caressed your hot tear-stained cheek, leading her thumb to your slightly agape lips “open these up f’me, pretty doll” ellie tells you, sliding her thumb into your mouth.

the sight of as you took her thumb into your mouth while she was ontop of you, driving herself into you. the way you admired her tattoo, you took the hand that was on the side of the arm she was extending.

you continued to suck softly as you traced the outline of the veins that protruded through her tattoo.

the sight of it all bringing you closer to your orgasm.

she leaned back slightly as you sucked her thumb and oogled her arm, causing the upward angle to bring you pure rapture.

you let out a choked out gutteral moan against her thumb as her hips devilishly work you to your orgasm.

ellie knew how to make you cum not once, but for days.

the way you arched your back, chest inviting her lips to explore.

the way your legs shake as she fucks you relentlessly always; no matter how.

the way she had you calling out like the lyircs to your favorite song.

the way she turned you into a completely utter pornstar.

“ellie! ellie m’close! gonn-ah!” lips removing from her thumb, your lecherous shrieks ringing through the room.

“yeah, pretty mama? you gon’ cum all over this strap?” she groans out, she swore she could cum just of all of this.

you let out quick nods as your nails dragged out slight blood , feeling small droplets fall into your nails.

“your words, use them.” ellie grits out, her hips fuckiing you well through your orgasm “yes! m’gonna cum all over your dick!” your cries were pure melodies to ellies ear.

“i gotchu pretty doll, i gotchu” as her hips drastically halt, going from fash to now deep thrusts.

“ellie! ellie!” you clung to her as you shook through your orgasm.

“there you go, atta girl” ellie praises you as your orgasm waves through you, nothing but whimpers coming from your foggy fucked out mind.

once you calmed down in her embrace, she slowly pulled out her strap that was now covered in your cum.

“lets take a break, mama?” ellie suggests which you agree too pretty quick.

ellie went to the restroom, grabbing a towelette to clean you up and get you a glass of water.

once she came back, you were laying there wirh your robe tied up. you thanked her for the water as she cleaned you up from your juices.

you had went to the restroom after she cleaned you up. you made your way back into your shared room and as you open the door; there she was.

ellie williams.

there she fucking was…on one knee in only her boxers and a sports bra.

“will you marry me?”

the case that held your sparkly engagement ring being held by the woman of your dreams after just getting ruthlessly fucked, yet treated like a queen.

only something this wonder of a woman could do to you.

“yes, fuck yes, yes.”

you ran to her as she stood up, launching yourself into her arms.

you both went to enjoy your bed of roses t’ill sunrise.

[m00nchildthings]

ALUCARD X PREGNANT!READER

This story was based off of this one right here: https://www.tumblr.com/m00nchildthings/703854020457021440/mating-press-and-breeding-kink-with-alucard

if anything this can be read as a sequel where he managed to get you knocked up cw for pregnant reader, oral sex one sparing use of the reader being called mama, and alucard being a hovering creep towards you for carrying his child also slight pregnancy kink if you squint not even read over once bone apple teeth🧑‍🍳😙🤌

p.s. @yazzzmints @ch3rryistheg you asked and i delivered

“You’re hovering Adrian”.

“I do not hover,”

You sighed, closing the large ornate tome you had been reading and setting it on the small wooden table beside your chair. He was hovering and whether he was oblivious to it or simply choosing to be obtuse, he was doing it a hell of a lot more recently. You knew why though, you thought as you brought your hand over your swollen stomach. Seven months into your pregnancy and through every step Alucard had treated you and your unborn child like fine china perpetually teetering over a precocious edge.

“You are aware we won’t turn to ash the moment we leave your vision,” you said cheekily staring up at your dhampir lover. His eyes narrowed before he swept past you, moving to sit in the armchair beside your own. He sat there, for a moment beautiful like marble with his eyes closed, before turning to face you.

“I am very well aware of that,” he said, placing his chin in his hand as he peered at you. You hummed, turning away from him, instead choosing to focus on the crackling fireplace in front of you, pretending the warm embers floating around the wood were far more interesting than the golden haired man sitting next to you.

“Then I hope that you are also aware,” you began pausing to take a sip of the tea still hot on your side table “that fathers who hover around the pregnant wives are bound to produce children that do not enjoy their company,”

“That isn’t true,” you could see his brows furrow from your peripheral view, hiding your chuckle behind another sip of tea, you continued.

“It very well might be an old wives tale, but I have heard of children coming out fussy towards their fathers fresh out of the womb-,” you were cut off with a loud swoosh as Alucard gracefully stepped towards you settling down at his knees, hands placed on your stomach.

“You won’t dislike me right?” he directed at your stomach, brow even more wrinkled with worry “Surely they understand I am just so, eager, to meet them right darling?,”

He stared up at you now, golden eyes tense with worry, your lip wobbled as you held back your smile. Here before you on his knees was Alucard Tepes; one of the slayers of Dracula, the feared prince of the night that cut down his enemies like knives through butter- reduced to a simpering thing at the fear your child might come straight from you hating him. You relented not having the heart to tease him any longer you cradled his jaw in your hand.

“I was just teasing my love, surely our child will love you just as much as I,” immediately he relaxed, melting into the palm of your hand. His golden eyes cut up at you a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“You are cruel to do such a thing to your doting lover,” his alabaster hand gripped your wrist as he turned to lay a kiss in the fleshy part of your palm. “I treat you so sweetly and you insist on giving me heart palpitations.

“Consider it payback for what your hellspawn is doing to my body, I can barely make it from here to the door without my swollen ankles and aching spine objecting,” you said, bringing your hand away from him to stretch the intense cracking of your back emphasizing your point.

Alucard stood, staring down at you, he adored your changing body evidence of the growth of his child in you. You’d always been beautiful in his eyes, but something about knowing the swell of your stomach was from your baby growing inside of you, surely you were a goddess gifting him with the gifts of gifts. Bending down he looped his arms around your waist ignoring your grumbles of objection when he picked you up hoisting you into his arms until your knees hung over his elbows.

“Then allow me to be your legs,” you huffed rolling your eyes as Alucard toted you out of your rather comfortable reading room, you knew where he was taking you of course. The looming large ornate doors of your bedroom came into view as Alucard steadily carried you to them.

“Our bedroom,” you said flatly “I wonder what reason you could have for bringing me here Adrian,”

“I have no idea what you are implying deer,” he said, turning to press his back to the door, opening it with your combined weights. Barely holding back his impish grin (a look a great number of others refused to believe existed when you said he did so on the regular) he rushed you to your bed gently placing you on the downy mattress.

“Your feet must be killing you,” he said, gracefully moving to sit beside you and patting his lap. Begrudgingly you laid back against the comforter swinging your aching feet to his lap. He gently massaged your foot pressing his fingers into the soles of your feet soothing the pain that afflicted you. His talented hands seemed to pull all the aches from them knowing how to just work your body from months of repeated practice. A particularly forceful push into your left heel and you couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled from your throat. Alucard smiled at you gently placing your feet on the bed beside him.

“See? So sweetly,” he said, placing his now free hand on your stomach.

“My body still aches,” you grumbled, still feeling the tension in your back

“I can help with that,”

“Your version of help is what got me into this predicament,” chuckling Alucard slowly spread your legs apart hiking your dress to just under your belly. There laid out before him nestled in a thatch of curls your cunt shined for him, already glistening with arousal. His slender fingers traced up the warm slit of your puffy lips noticing the audible hitch in your breaths

“If you don’t like my version of help then where are your undergarments,” he questioned, knuckles grazing up and down your quivering pussy

“They no longer -mmph- fit,” you moa, turning around to bury your head into the pillow.

“How lucky for me,” he murmured, just barely above a whisper as he sank down till his face was level with your heat “that my favorite snack is but a silk slip away from tongue,”

With one scathing breath his mouth was on you, pink lips pressing toward your own. His tongue wickedly lapped at you running wet circles around your throbbing clit before slipping its way into your clenching cunt. He couldn’t help the vibrating moans, near purrs that reverberated into you, as your juices flooded his taste buds. He couldn't help the way he ate at you ravaging your quim with every fiery stroke through your quivering lips. Your hands tugged at his golden locks pulling him closer and closer to your weeping cunt. How foolish, he thought as he drank up all you had to offer, why pull him close when you both know the last thought on his mind was pulling away?

Your orgasm crested, creeping up on you with each lascivious lick that toyed with your throbbing clit. It was with one particularly harsh suck that had you falling apart, melting apart like butter on warm toast your cunt creamed over your lover's tongue. Undeterred Alucard continued to viciously feast on your juices, moaning as they glossed his face. Clawed hands though gentle, held your hips in place as they began to buck so he could wrap his lips around your clit sucking on the shiny pearl undisturbed.

“A-Adrian please, s’too much I need-,” interrupting you Alucard sighed loudly, releasing your clit with an audible pop.

“You never let me have my fill,” he complained peering up at you over your swollen belly “but I know what you need,”

Rising Alucard reached for his trousers tugging the strings till his cock, heavy with a bead of precum pooling at the tip, fell free. Smiling and flashing those fangs of his wide he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist. Grabbing at his cock he lined the drooling pink head with your equally wet cunt, rubbing it between your lips and nudging at your clit. Gently he pushed inside of you, hissing as your heat slowly enveloped him till the hilt. The two of you rested there for a moment panting as your limbs tangled about each other. You whined under him, arms reaching towards him, hands making grabby motions for him. Alucard reached underneath you pulling you towards him. You both sat there, connected at your most intimate of places, your sweaty forehead resting on his cool one.

“Adrian,”

“Yes my love?”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes my love”

With a low chuffing noise, Alucard thrust up into you once, twice, three times, every one seeming to be deeper than the last. Your mouth hung agape as your lover continuously fucked up into you carving the shape of him deep into your cunt. Moans barely escaped you as every thrust seemed to steal your breath, your eyes stared into the golden ones of your lover unable to look away. Before you could process Alucard's hand gripped your ass holding you towards him as he stood on the bed, steadying his feet in the cushion and using his grip to lift you fast up and down his cock.

“Do you feel me sweet, deep, in here,” he rasped as he bounced you on his cock balls slapping on your ass. His hot breath fanned your face as he used your own weight to fuck you, one particular hard thrust had your eyes rolling back into your skull, and with a rush words escaped you.

“Fuck Adein yes! Fuck me please, I- oh god don’t stop!” you screamed nails clawing into the rolling muscles of his back.

“That’s it mama,” he hissed somehow managing to grip you closer, shifting to the balls of his feet he began to roll his hips up into you to match every bounce of your ass against his thighs “Take it, cum for me, let me feel your silk grip me,”

You don’t know whether it was his words that got you there so quickly or the orgasm he gave you prior, but with a barely audible cry you came walls gripping him tightly as you gushed around him. Alucard grit his teeth at the grip your cunt had him in, thrusting a few times before spilling inside you with a strangled cry. Alucard fell to his knees holding you close as you both bounced on the mattress. He pulled you off him holding back chuckles when you grumbled from the over sensitivity. Gently he laid you down before getting off the bed and leaving towards your bedroom bath chamber. He returned with a warm bowl of water and two warm cotton cloths.

Sitting beside you Alucard dipped the washcloth into the water wringing it before bringing it to your heaving body. Carefully he cleaned you off, wiping the spunk he left at your center. You groaned, pushing at his hands, still feeling far too sensitive. With a chuckle he dropped the now sullied rag once you were clean of him, reaching to prepare the second one he had brought and pressed the soothing cotton to your sweaty brow. Your eyes closed as you let your dhampir lover continue with his aftercare.

“Am I forgiven yet, for breeding you with my -what did you call our child- hellspawn?” he asked golden eyes trained onto your face. With a sigh you looked up at him already having forgotten the remark you had made earlier. A sly smirk tugged at your tired face.

“For the time being leonito,”

[afewfantasies]

I don't know why but when I first started reading feyd fanfics, in my mind feyd would dye/paint his teeth every day because he thought it looks intimidating and now there will forever be the image of feyd sitting at a vanity every morning meticulously coloring his teeth black

"Black Smile"

OMG, I love this so much. We know Feyd loves to put on a show, so this fits. Anything to add to the persona, the intrigue and the pageantry of it all. Here's a little Feyd X Reader imagine with this premise. Feyd is also the current Baron.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 575

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd X Reader (Established relationship w/ children)

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Feyd's painting his teeth to prepare for a public appearance. His small children see it for the first time.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None, this ones fluffy 🖤

"Black Smile"

Turning Feyd stops painting his smile at the sound of little feet, casting a look over his shoulder he stops seeing his children. His daughter scrunches her face up stopping dead in her tracks. He prepares for the worst but thankfully there are no tears.

“Daddy what’s that?” She asks amusing him. She only knew daddy, not Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. “Daddy I don’t like it” she adds coming closer. Seeking him for comfort in spite of his look being the reason for her uncertainty.

“Me neither” His son says both sets of little eyes pairing at him. Feyd turns again as you enter the bedroom. It brings back memories of your first meeting, when it was the only way you knew him. Black teeth to add to the terror.

“Your mommy likes it” Feyd says and both children turn to you in shock..

“They were coming to say goodbye and wish you a safe voyage” you explain running your hands over your babies heads. Feyd nods.

“Mommy you really like it?” Your daughter asks skeptically and you nod.

“C’mere” he growls playfully sending both kids screaming before he can give chase. You smile as they run out the chambers.

“Missed a spot” you tell him pointing to a white streak along one of his teeth. He finishes up the job leaving all of his teeth smooth and black before curing them with so it looks natural and lasts.

“How do I look?” Feyd rasps adapting the voice and the terrifying persona of his reputation.

“Like a Harkonnen” you respond.

“Daddy?” Your son calls running back into your room. Feyd raises a brow.

“Can I have it too, I want to scare my sister” your son bounces. Instead of saying no Feyd picks your boy up sitting him on his lap. You laugh knowing your little girl will be next in line.

“I’m not sure I like this” you confess looking at your son’s black teeth and gums as Feyd cures the paint. Your kid hisses at you and you laugh thinking it must be hereditary. He runs back out the room and you listen out for screams. Sure enough a blood curling scream proceeds hysterical laughter. Running hard your daughter re-enters bouncing.

“Daddy, Daddy, me tooo!” She bounces and Feyd picks her up indulging her request. He’s so good with the kids it’s unreal, it warms your heart more than he could ever know.

“Mummy, how’s it look?” Your daughter says giving you a black grin.

“Interesting” you smile and she runs out to terrorize her brother and the staff no doubt. You turn to Feyd in amusement and he pats his knee.

“Your turn” he says.

“No thank you,” you respond having a seat on his knee. Looking at him in the mirror you try to picture him for the first time, you try to remember how he made your heart palpitate, how weary you were of his black smile, how terrified you were of him. “Smile?” You ask and he obliges leaving you to shudder. “Terrifying papa” you wink at him in the mirror earring a smile. 

“Good” he nods and you chuckle holding back your smile. It never ceased to amaze you the lengths Feyd would go to to serve maximum horror. There was a sense of pageantry and exaggeration that you found ironic and amusing. Of course he’s never needed the black smile to be intimidating but it adds a little je-ne-sais-quoi. 

-----

Authors note: thanks for the idea anon, genuinely never considered this possibility - its been fun to ponder 🩶

[risuola]

ENTRY #8 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU

You said you love me, I heard it between the lines.

contents: arranged marriage!au, it gets a little steamy, reader discretion is advised — 2,5k words

a/n: longer part, little steam, some more confused fools in love, what else can we want ♡ i kinda enjoy writing the story a little more from satoru's pov, i hope you don't mind! also, the wedding picture that my friend draw for me is here for anyone interested!

series masterlist

You love him.

Well, technically, you didn’t say you love him. You were tidying just next to him, wiping the dust off the shelves and he was on the couch, doing paperwork that might’ve been — and most likely were — partially responsible for his poor mood. He hated paperwork and ironically, Yaga loved giving him a fair share of it — it was fair, he knew that. His missions, his forms to fill but couldn’t Ijichi take care of it–

“We should retake that picture one day,” he heard you muse and he didn’t need to look up to know what picture you had in mind. You had, after all, just one picture together and it was taken forcefully as a proof of your marriage, right after the ceremony. He was in a suit, black and crisp, looking good as always with his glasses — that he didn’t bother taking off for the photo — resting on the bridge of his nose, low enough to show a little bit of his eyes and high enough to hide the lack of amusement he felt that day. You were in front of him, partially exposing your bare back to the camera and holding a bouquet of flowers that someone got you — not him, that’s for sure. As he thought of it, you were looking stunning. Breathtaking, to say the least, in the long white dress, not too plain but definitely not overly embellished. You didn’t need to be dressed in layers of princess-worthy fabrics to look like one. The picture though — it lacked emotion. You were there with him and he was there with you, but you weren’t together on it. You were just both in the frame.

“Why would we?” He asked dryly, growing more and more irritated by the bureaucracy at hand. He was stuck on one of the points, the one he disliked the most because it required him to elaborate on something that didn’t need to be elaborated on. Why would he describe the curses he saw, evaluate their strengths and consider their techniques, when he turned them to dust before they even realized he was there?

“It would be nice to have a wedding picture with some actual love in it, not just a dry, forced pose and stone faces,” you reasoned and your voice was light, it was innocent almost as if you were speaking of something so obviously natural. As if you were not considering exchanging the picture-proof of your arranged marriage into one of real marriage.

“We’re not married for love, do I need to remind you?” Satoru scoffed. He was annoyed. At you, because you were able to make his heart beat in ways he never knew are possible and at himself — for letting that happen. Or for saying what he just said because of course you knew the marriage wasn’t based on love and it didn’t change the fact you just allowed your mouth to slip away words that shouldn’t be slipped. He was annoyed because you shouldn’t feel that way, because he wasn’t ready to hear it, because he’s a coward.

But, instead of getting annoyed, he heard you chuckling. It was an odd point in your marriage. You were closer, the closest you’ve been until now, but the feelings that were undeniably blooming underneath the surface had to force their way through the layer of sarcasm he and you spread out thickly over the course of past weeks. You were still foreign to affection but curiously exploring the topic with each other and Satoru was suffering severe heart palpitations because of it. You seemed to enjoy it though — your smiles and very purposeful touches were enough of a proof of it.

Satoru sometimes wished he could fluster you just as you fluster him and he would give the world to see your face tinted with deep, red blush because of him. He will see you like this one day, but for now, you were still learning to express civil behaviors in the confines of your shared house. You called it a success that fights were much rarer now than at the beginning; perhaps you grew accustomed to the amount of snarkiness and irony or maybe it mellowed down. Maybe the fact that you were spending more and more time together, now working at school side by side, had something to do with the much warmer relation shyly building itself up between you, or maybe it’s because of the long, late night talks you share every night when he’s laying in bed with you.

“Oh, you really should shut up sometimes,” you said and he felt you approaching.

“I should, huh?” He rolled his eyes and smirked, eager to put down the papers and pay his attention to you. His eyes, that first landed on your legs, moved up following the shape of your body until he met your gaze. “And who are you to order me such things?”

“Your wife, Satoru, we’re married, as you probably noticed,” you snapped back, but something in the tone of your voice told him, you’re not as bothered as the bite of your words suggested.

“Married,” he said, humming. His smirk faltered just slightly and for a second, he was silenced by your presence. He couldn’t bring himself to fight against it. “And hating every second of it.” But he’d still reached forward to take your hand.

This time, it's you who rolled eyes but you allowed your fingers to intertwine with his. You sat down next to him, dropping your weight onto the soft, bouncy cushions and positioning yourself in a way to be able to face him. The top of your knee met the side of his thigh and Gojo put the pile of formalities to the side. “You are annoying, you know that, right?”

“I’ve been told,” Satoru said, his mouth twitching into a small smile. “Several times. By you, actually.” He chuckled and shifted a little on the couch. His free arm was rested along the backrest and he leaned his head back, giving you a sideways look. “But I know I am,” he teased with a smirk now fully bloomed on his features. “I’m glad you’re at least acknowledging it.”

“Kinda hard to miss when it’s written all over your face,” you teased him back and he laughed, running his thumb along the side of your hand. Then, he was rubbing small circles onto your skin, grazing over the delicate spots of your wrist.

“Oh? You’ve been paying more attention to me than I thought.”

“You really need to shut up,” you sighed, exhaling slowly in feigned annoyance, but you were clearly amused by his antics and he was growing amused too. Gojo was testing you, seeing how far you were willing to push him. He had every intention of testing your boundaries, pushing your buttons. He was curious, excited even, to see where it could go. You were incredible, Satoru thought, because weeks before he was sure he was going to break you, get you to back off, but you just kept coming at him. He wasn’t complaining.

“But I don’t want to,” he said, his tone teasing as he leaned towards you, bringing his face inches from yours. Your eyes met and the air got a little thicker, a little more warm. “What are you gonna do about it?” His voice was quiet, murmur-like, challenging. He didn’t let go of your wrist or stop the soft circles of his thumb.

“Easy,” you scoffed, but a smile tugged on the corners of your mouth when you leaned in as well. Your head tilted and then, your lips were just breath away from his own. “I’ll shut you myself,” you whispered, right against his face.

Satoru nearly lost it when he felt your breath on his lips. His heart seemed to skip a beat, this wasn’t how he thought this conversation would go, but he wasn’t exactly complaining. He wasn’t supposed to get jealous, to want you, to need you, but now that you were this close, there was no way he was going to let it end here.

He leaned a little closer as well, closing the distance just a bit more. He was practically asking for your lips to meet and the way your voice teased him when you whispered– oh, the man was getting weak. For the first time, he was speechless. His eyes drifted shut, the feel of your lips so close being enough to set him on fire. The silence hung in the air for only a moment before he pulled you to him, his mouth crashing into yours. He wanted to feel you against him as much as he could. One of his hands went to the back of your head and he began to pull you even tighter.

And you purred. Climbing on top of him, straddling his lap and the moment your legs gripped onto his, every thought was lost, every desire was awakened. One of his arms naturally shifted to pull you against his body and the other was in your hair, tangled within the strands. He felt the heat of you on his chest, he felt you on top of him and in his mind, there was no place he wanted you more. Satoru couldn't get enough of you, of being close.

His back was against the couch, he was kissing you roughly, almost desperately as if there was no air on the planet anymore and you were the only saving grace. He had waited so long to do this, wished for it. Every morning he spent looking at your calm, sleeping face he wondered what would you do if he made a move, if he kissed you softly, if he woke you up with his touch.

And now that it was happening.

He didn’t want to waste a single second. Your hands run over his shoulders and brushed through his hair, pulling and tugging them ever so slightly and he shivered from how close to the edge it brought him. Your touch was electric, sending tendrils of pleasure right through his system, filling his veins with something warm and unknown, making him lose himself into the feeling.

Your tongues met, exploring each other and he was focused on the taste of your lips, the sharpness of your teeth closing teasingly on his lower lip from time to time, the sound of your breathing and how soft and smooth your skin was against his own. Your nose was brushing against his every time you shifted your head and each movement made him want more. He felt like he could spend the rest of his life kissing you.

Satoru’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and he leaned forward, pressing himself against you. He had a good bit more muscle than you and he wasn’t afraid to use it if it meant pulling you even closer, leaving no space between. Your body fit with his, the two of you like puzzle pieces fitting together in the perfect spot.

His hands were moving, following the shapes of you, learning them as his fingers were brushing your sides, his thumb sliding along your back. He gripped your waist a little harder and then, his mouth fell to your neck. You whimpered and a small groan escaped his lips as he kissed you there, his lips and tongue making their way to the soft, delicate skin behind your ear and you gasped on air when his teeth grazed the shell of your lobe.

Your fingers tightened on the muscles of his shoulders, searching for a way to ground yourself and you struggled to stay present, when he made it so easy to get lost.

A smile tugged on Gojo’s lips, he felt how hot your cheek was against the side of his head when he peppered tender kisses along the side of your neck. Then, he pulled away from you for a moment, breathing heavily. His eyes flickered over your face, taking in the sight of you before they dropped to your mouth once more. You were so pretty like this, panting and with your lips parted and swollen, red and glistening with saliva. You were so gorgeous with blush spilled over your complexion, with your half-lidded eyes and your arms around him.

His hands were still on your waist, and his lips found yours again — just as hungry and desperate as it was before.

“God,” he breathed, between one kiss and another. His voice was rough and gruff, carried by the heavy breaths and want. “I can’t believe I’m married to you,” he said, his tone full of awe. “Positive.”

He felt your lips curve upwards and your body squirm against him, and that was enough to make him almost lose control over himself. His hand moved from your waist to the hem of your shirt, moving it just enough to get access to the skin beneath it. He kept kissing you and his fingers were shifting from the hem back to your waist, then back again. You were so soft, and his entire body was filled with the urge to explore it. To taste it. To learn it.

He leaned back just slightly, breaking the kiss and you let out a soft sigh. Your cheek was now pressed against his shoulder, your face exposed. He rested his head against yours, his eyes fluttered shut and all he could hear was a mixture of breaths and his own heart.

“We should stop,” he whispered, sighing and you hummed, nuzzling your nose into his neck, kissing him there.

And like that, Satoru melted.

His body relaxed against yours once more. The breath he took was long and shaky, the sensation of your lips on his neck making his brain short circuit. Any thought he’d had of actually stopping threatened to fell to the wayside.

“We should really stop,” he repeated, louder this time, but he wasn’t making any attempts to move you off his lap. His hands gripped you a little more instead. “You’re gonna make me lose control.”

“Isn’t that a tempting thought,” you teased, the softest mischief lining your tone and you gave the side of his neck a little kitten-lick. Satoru groaned when your tongue touched his neck. His hold tightened on you, his fingers digging into your waist.

“Oh god, don’t do that,” he whispered, sounding desperate. His arm came up to brush your hair out of your face and he leaned his head to the side, giving you better access to his neck, despite all of his instincts telling him to not do that.

“Don’t do what?” Your voice rumbled against his flesh, the sensitive area leading from his ear to his shoulder vulnerable and exposed to your whims.

"That."

"That?"

Gojo jolted the moment your teeth sunk into his skin, just barely hard enough to leave a mark and it made him lose it. With a deep groan, his head shot upwards. The hand that had been running through your hair now gripped your hip, and in an instant, he had you flipped so you were flat on your back, him on top and the papers he’s got from Yaga long forgotten and spread all over the floor.

He’ll worry about them later.

Now: you.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie

[lovebugism]

vacation, cocktails, stevie in the tiniest shorts… I mean 😮‍💨

thanks for your request lovey!! — the one where steve takes you to the beach, but him in his bathing suit is the real view (established relationship, smut 18+, 2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Steve jokes as he passes you a cocktail. It’s a red, yellow, and blue colored drink with an orange slice wedged into the top of it. It’s about as tropical as a beachside bar can get. 

The rainbow colors match his color-blocked swim trunks, though the fabric is far more muted in hue. They make his tanned skin look that much more golden. You can’t figure out which shade is most his color, though, no matter how hard you ogle. 

Steve spent a better part of the day smiling with delight every time he caught you staring. He’d been a bit scared to wear the shorts, in truth. They were far too long to be considered a speedo but revealed more of his thighs than normal trunks did. Then he saw how much you loved them and never wanted to take them off.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you take the blended drink from him. “It’s just… It’s staring me right in the face, babe.”

“Shut up,” Steve huffs out a laugh, descending on the lounge seat next to yours.

You’ve been on vacation for four days now, playing house in his parents’ beachside condo. He wears the bliss of holiday all over him, tanned skin glittering beneath a golden hour sun. He’s almost constantly shirtless because it’s so damn hot out — which has done nothing but give you ample time to leer at his toned torso, dusted with marred scars beneath sprinkles of chestnut hair.

But it’s his thighs that get you. Those goddamn perfect thighs you want to take a bite out of and ride all at once.

No one should look so good in such a tiny pair of shorts. You think it should be a crime, really. And the worst part about all of it is Steve has virtually no idea what he’s doing to you.

He just sits there next to you and laughs at your ogling — like there's anything remotely funny about the heart palpitations he’s giving you just from looking so damn good.

“I’m so glad I got you those shorts,” you confess, mostly to yourself, before sipping at the bendy straw in your cup. The fruity slush cools your warm skin almost instantly.

“Yeah,” Steve hums with a lopsided smile. His rosy lips match the sunburn on his cheekbones. “They fit like a glove, don’t they?”

You know he’s saying that just to tease you, but you nod anyway. “Yes, they do,” you singsong quietly, chewing at the end of your straw and getting lost in your leering.

It makes Steve chuckle to himself. “Alright, babe. Keep it in your pants.”

“I’d love to get into your pants, actually.”

“You’re in rare form today, aren’t you?” Steve wonders through his laughter.

Being beachside looked good on you — being away from Hawkins looked good on you. It’s the first time he’s seen you relax in a while. Like, really relax. No monsters to hunt, no children to run after, no parents to impress. It’s just you and him and an orange sun. 

And also a bar that serves alcohol that tastes like juice that you’re currently downing like it’s nothing.

“I’m tipsy and in love,” you shrug. “Sue me.”

Steve smacks his lips against his teeth. “Nah. I’m tipsy and in love, too, so… I guess I can’t really blame you…”

His admission of love makes you smile. You’ve surely heard it a million times now, but your chest sparkles like it’s the very first.

You grow suddenly soft. “Thanks for bringing me here, Stevie…”

His sheepish grin matches your own. “Thanks for coming with me, baby.”

He reaches a hand out towards you — which you take without thinking twice.

His long fingers are warm as they engulf your own. Your arms sway in the inches of space separating the two of you, knuckles gently brushing the white sand beneath you. And even though you’re touching him, you can’t help but crave more.

“You’re so far away,” you observe with a slight pout furrowing your brows.

Steve scoffs a gentle laugh. “I’m literally holding your hand.”

“Yeah, but like…” You trail off as you try to find the words to say — how to say them without sounding pathetic. Your nose scrunches softly with your admission. “I need you…”

“Need me?” he wonders with pinched brows. 

He’s concerned at first, because he’s always concerned at first.

He’s been on the defense since 1984. It’s practically in his nature, at this point. It takes him a second to realize you don’t actually need help — that you’re not in Hawkins anymore, and there’s no reason to look over his shoulder. 

His honey eyes go wide in realization a moment later. His pink mouth falls softly agape. “Oh. Like, need me, need me?”

You hum with a distant, tipsy smile.

“Need you, need you, need you,” you repeat thrice for effect.

Despite his similar desire that blooms like a flower in his chest, he urges, “Finish your drink first, ‘kay?”

Your pout returns. “Why?”

“‘Cause it was expensive as shit, and I don’t want it going to waste,” he explains with a chuckle.

You nod in return. “Yes, sir…”

Your mouth curls around the straw again. A smile quirks your lips as you watch the boy next to you squirm in his seat — your words having a rather obvious effect on him.

You swallow down the strawberry slush, now turning into a sour lemon, and blink away a brain freeze. 

“You okay over there, Stevie?” you tease.

He nods with jutted-out lips. “Mm-hmm. Yep. Perfect.”

—————

One Tropical Rainbow Paradise cocktail later, and Steve’s leading you to his cabana.

It’s more private than a normal one. Far more lavish, too. It’s like a tiny studio apartment — made of three walls and a thick curtain in place of a door. There’s a television hung below the ceiling, a small bed pushed up against the wood, and a clawfoot tub idling on the other side. 

You figure you’ll have ample time to ride Steve in the bath later. 

Your mouth waters for a taste of him now.

It’s why you fall to your knees no more than a second after you’ve latched the curtain shut.

Steve’s eyes go wide as he watches you. He nearly stumbles backward onto the mattress behind him because the very sight of you makes his legs buckle.

“Whoa, babe— Let me put a pillow under you first—”

“I don’t care about that,” you dismiss with the shake of your head. Your fingers curl around the hem of his trunks as you blink up at him. “Just take your clothes off.”

He nods, rapid and visibly enthusiastic. 

You don’t pull his shorts all the way down, just enough to free his half-hard cock. You slip the band beneath his heavy balls and wrap his dick in your hand, wetting your palm with your tongue first to ease the friction. 

You work him slowly with your wrist and lick the pearly bead of precum from his flushed tip like it’s muscle memory to you. The rough pad of your tongue flicking over the most sensitive part of him drives him wild. A groan rumbles in his chest, muffled through his clenched jaw and teeth.

“Fuck— These trunks are really doing it for you, huh?” he teases after his fleeting senses return to him.

You blink up at him, only halfway amused. “Be careful, Stevie. I don't know if you noticed, but I have your dick in my hand.”

A crooked grin pulls at his pink lips. “Yeah… Go ahead and put your mouth on it, sweetheart,” he instructs lowly. “Maybe I’ll let you ride it after— shit.”

Your lips wrap fully around his reddening tip.

His breath catches in his throat when you lick over him like a lollipop. Your tongue dips over his drooling slit. The salty tang of him makes you moan under your breath.

Your lips abandon his cock soon after. You keep jerking him with your fist while you bring your mouth to his balls. You know he likes that best. He’s more sensitive there than most men are and spurned on by the sight of it even more so.

The sounds of your suckling and the vision of you nuzzling against his length has his orgasm creeping up his spine. 

Your mouth widens as your tongue trails up the thick vein at the underside of his cock, leading all the way to his flushed, bulbous tip.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Steve sighs, right before a whine spills from his throat. His palms are wide and warm as they settle over your temples, his fingers crawling into your hair. 

He doesn’t guide you at all — you know what he likes better than he does, really. He doesn’t pull you closer to him, either. He just holds you. He uses you like an anchor when his impending orgasm threatens to pull his head underwater.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he repeats, this time in a more firm groan. His cock jerks faintly in your mouth while he babbles. “Gonna make me come like this… So good for me, baby. Your pretty mouth is always so good for me. Just a little bit more…”

You know what he needs. He blinks, and suddenly his cock is stuffed down your throat. Both of you are barely breathing by then, equally spurned on by his rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Oh, shit, babe— fuck,” he whines, voice breaking when you swallow around him. He tilts his head to the ceiling and talks himself through his orgasm with gritted teeth. “Yeah. Gag on it— let me feel you, baby… Fuck, yes... 'S gonna make me come so hard. You’re gonna swallow it for me, yeah? Take everything I give you?”

With his cock stuffing your throat, you show him better than you can tell him. 

His cock spits several warm loads within your waiting throat. You swallow it all down without complaint — not because it tastes good exactly, but because you love having a mouthful of him.

His golden thighs tremble under your hands as your nails rake gently over his skin.

A blissful sigh trembles in his flushed chest when you pull back from him. Even though your jaw aches and your throat is sore, you find it in you to smile as you drag your finger over the dribbles of cum at the corner of your mouth. 

Steve swears he almost comes again when you lick the remnants of his pearly load off the pad of your thumb.

“What do ya say?” you find it in you to tease despite your current predicament. You’re still kneeling in front of him, blinking up at him with heavy watering eyes, saliva glistening on your chin. “Did I earn my seat, Stevie?”

Swallowing through a tight throat, he nods until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Definitely, yeah. Fuck.”

The bed creaks under his weight when he lies in the center of it. Now fully naked, his tanned skin contrasts heavily with the all-white sheets beneath him. His honey hair is wild as he leans against the fluffy pillows.

He beckons you to him with a wave of his hands.

“C’mere,” he tells you, pink tongue darting out to wet his swollen lips a second later.

You untie your bikini in record time. You rise on the mattress and swing your knee over his hip. Your glistening pussy rests just over his stomach, pretty enough to taste.

“Uh-uh,” Steve hums with the shake of his head, waving his hands again. “Come here.”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

“Closer,” he commands.

Still a bit confused, you shift further up his waist — only a few inches, though, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s asking of you. 

You don’t fully understand until his wide hands curl around the backs of your thighs. He urges you up his torso himself, forcing you to grip the headboard before you topple over completely. 

He shifts lower on the mattress until your knees are over his shoulders. His strong arms wrap around your thighs to pull you over his face, all but suffocating himself with your pussy.

His scruffy jaw scratches softly at your inner thighs — a stark contrast with the way his soft mouth suckles at your weeping cunt.

You’re practically gushing over his face the second his lips wrap around your clit.

[inkdrinkerworld]

i am a fiend for early seasons Reid omg i can imagine reader like ‘fixing’ his glasses as an excuse to be a lil close to him and he’s like just about having heart palpitations

Spencer might combust. You’re finally back after a week away on sick leave and he believes you’ve gotten even more beautiful. 

“Hey Spence, miss me?” you ask as your heels click in the direction of his desk. He notices right away that your voice is still a little raspy as you sit on the edge of his desk. 

You’re wearing purple today, and Spencer’s heart does a little jump when he smells that pink pepper, sandalwood and amber perfume you love so much. 

“Are you feeling better?” he asks and you smile, bright and real and Spencer is sure his pulse can be seen in his throat. 

“Better now, I kept wanting to see you but I didn’t want to transfer my germs.” you honestly as you riffle through your bag. 

Spencer frowns, “You wanted to see me?” It’s surprising. As of twenty seconds ago Spencer believed that the only people who wanted to spend time with him outside of work was his mother and the little boy he plays chess with. 

You pull out an envelope and then turn to Spencer with a serious look on your face. 

“Of course I did,” before you can carry on Emily and Derek arrive and come over to you offering hugs. 

“Why am I not surprised that you stop by Pretty Ricky first?” Derek teases, Spencer’s cheeks going red when you look at him over your shoulder and give him a little smile. 

“Because I missed him the most? You and Pen kept calling so I didn’t feel too far from you.” Derek rolls his eyes and Emily squeezes your shoulder. 

“I’m glad you’re back, this one,” she points to Spencer, “has been a little subdued in your absence.” 

Spencer scratches the bridge of his nose at Emily’s words, knocking his glasses askew. He’s started wearing them again, after you had told him you missed seeing him in them. 

She doesn’t elaborate after that and walks off to the kitchen to get a pot of coffee started. 

“You did miss me,” you gush and Spencer hopes his cheeks don’t look as hot as they feel. “I missed you too, y’know. S’why I wanted to see you.”  you whisper that part to him, turning your body so you face him properly. 

Spencer’s sure his blush is fire engine red as you lean into his space and fiddle with his glasses till they’re righted. 

“I like these new frames by the way, they make you look even more handsome.” you kiss his cheek before hopping off the desk. 

“I gotta go check in with Hotch, but if we get a case save me a seat on the jet?” You wave the envelope in your hand as you walk off, still looking at Spencer to catch his nod and when he clears his throat so the, “Yeah,” he responds with isn’t broken. 

Derek chuckles as he leans back in his seat. 

“You might want to work on that blush Pretty Ricky, I think if she does that again you might pass out.” 

Spencer tosses a balled up piece of paper at Derek and though he aims for his head, it barely skims his shoulder. Spencer just really hopes that you don’t mind the hammering of his pulse because if you carry on any longer, he’s sure he’ll need to be hospitalised.

[sunflowersteves]

can you write about carmy getting his first blowjob????

the way I crave this man is insane 😩 of course I can, hun

pairing || carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings || fluff, established relationship, reader has manicured nails, SMUT, blowjob, mention of eating out, praise kink, 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

masterlist

It was way past closing time at the restaurant. All of the other employees had left, finishing their duties, while Richie was furiously cleaning the floors. His arm felt like it was about to fall off as he scrubbed the dirty tile.

Carmen, on the other hand, was chopping vegetables. His hand moved fast across the cutting board, making thumping sounds as the knife sliced each carrot.

Richie scoffed. “Do you seriously need to do this right now, cousin?”

Carmen didn’t even blink. He just continued to chop up the remaining vegetables, with all of his focus on cooking. After putting the carrots into the pot, he starts to finely dice a red onion.

“Yes, cousin. I just—I just need to perfect this recipe, and then we’re good.” 

Richie rolled his eyes but still scrubbed. “You’re such a jagoff.”

Carmen had a habit of trying to perfect every single recipe thrown his way. When he tasted the soup earlier, his nose scrunched up. Something about it just felt off—and it was driving him insane. It tasted too salty and too acidic. He needed to figure out how to make it better.

He turned to the boiling pot of chicken stock and gently placed the onion slices into the stew. “Yo, cousin. I got it. Go home.” He didn’t even wait for an answer as he expertly sliced into a tomato.

Richie stood up from the ground. “Sure. Just don’t make your girl wait too long.”

For the first time in their conversation, Carmen looked over at him. There was even a small smile on his lips. “Never. Not to her.”

Richie half-smiled. “Alright, you fuckin’ sap. I’m leaving.” On the inside, Richie was beaming. He couldn’t get over how happy you make Carmen—hell, how happy you make the whole kitchen. Your presence was entirely needed in a place like this.

He knocked twice on the office door and announced his leave to you. You opened the door with a wide grin and bid him goodnight. “Don’t forget to tell Eva about the tickets!” You called out as Richie walked out the door.

Richie was practically glowing at the mention of his daughter. “Thank you for finding amazing seats, by the way, sweetheart! You’re a fucking lifesaver!” With that, Richie was out of sight as the door closed on him.

Carmen’s eyes flickered up at the sound of your voice. His head swiveled around to see you already staring at him. Your body leaned over the office door frame—pretty manicured nails sparkling against the contrasted white of the walls.

“Hi, baby.” He says. 

“Hi, Carm.” You say back, smiling. 

He puts the sharp knife down and wipes his hand on the towel that was over his shoulder. You walk over to him in the kitchen, and he relishes the proximity of your presence. Your fingers trace the outline of his bicep, and a shiver crawls up his spine. Your hand settles onto his shoulder, and you give a small squeeze.

Your relationship was fairly new. It would officially be three months tomorrow, to be exact. It had gone by pretty fast if he was being honest, but it just felt so good being with you. Despite the newly founded relationship, Carmen couldn’t get over how much you truly mean to him.

You were everything from the late Sunday mornings of snuggling under the sheets to the crazy late nights of telling stories out in the front house of the restaurant. To make matters worse, you got along so well with all of the staff at The Bear. You calmed him down when everything seemed to be directly opposing him. You were always there to press a finger to his chin and a kiss on his cheek. He swore his heart palpitated against his chest every time he thought about you.

“Can I taste?”

He nodded, grabbing a small spoon and dipping it into the soup. His hand hovered under the bottom so it wouldn’t spill. “Open your mouth, baby.”

You did as he said and let your jaw slack open. He places the spoon into your mouth, and you let the delicious, salty soup slide down your throat.

You moan against the spoon. “Holy fuck, Carm.” His eyes never left your face in an attempt to understand your reaction. “That was the best thing I have ever tasted.”

He finally smiles. He felt like he was glowing. “You say that every time I ask you to try something.”

You slid your hand down his chest, feeling the imprint of the chain that rests under his uniform. “And I mean it every fucking time.” His heart buzzed against his chest. His mind felt hazy. He wrapped an arm around your waist and squeezed the soft, plush flesh. His bright eyes were so intense—so full of affection—that it was starting to make you feel hot.

“You wanna taste it too?” You asked innocently.

He nodded and reached for another clean spoon. You smiled wide at the idea of him getting a sparkling clean spoon. He was quickly derailed by the way your lips crashed onto his. He let out a surprised groan, his eyes fluttering close.

You moved in sync until you pushed your tongue into his mouth and tasted the sweet essence of him. He tasted the chicken and onions from the delectable, tasty soup. It was much better than what he had tasted earlier. “Fuck—” He murmured in between the deep kisses. You bubbled out a laugh, but his hand stayed firm on your waist. He didn't want to end the way he felt when your lips graced his own.

You pull apart after the desperation of air becomes too much. You almost laugh again at the sight of his swollen lips and pretty pink cheeks. “See? Taste’s good, doesn’t it?”

A small smirk caressed his lips, but the flustered look was still there. “It tastes very good, sweet girl.”

The nickname prickled goosebumps onto your arms. He has called you that since your third date, but it never ceases to make your heart flutter. He knows it too.

You both start to gravitate toward each other once more. This time the kiss was more intense, with more teeth clashing and attempting to bruise each other’s lips.

“Carmy.” You whine. He growled into you in response and pressed another searing kiss onto your mouth. His hands grip your waist even tighter as if to pull you in even more. A moan slipped from the back of your throat.

Your hands move to the plains of his chest before pushing the two of you apart. His eyebrows furrow as you completely pull away from his embrace. Did he hurt you? It was all he could think. He didn’t want to fuck this up. No, he can’t fuck this up.

“Baby?” He whispers, sounding uncertain.

You don’t say a thing as you sink your knees to the ground, causing Carmen to gasp. His eyes were wide as his stare intensified. “F-Fuck.” His mouth bobs open and closed, trying to find some other words, but all he does is whisper your name.

Your hands moved up and down his thighs. The fabric of his chef uniform was soft against your palms. “Can I take care of you, Carmy?”

Oh, fuck. Your voice sounded so sweet—so thick and kind against his ears. He could feel his cock throb at the anticipation of your touch.

You wait for his answer, still gently rubbing his thighs back and forth. He felt like he was on fire. Nerves crash over him, though. His heart starts to speed up at the anxiety that prickles his skin. He had never done this before.

It wasn’t that the opportunity didn’t arise because it did. You asked many times if he wanted a blowjob, but all he wanted was to lick into your folds again. It was like his mind was drunk off of the sweet, tangy nectar, and he wasn't about to let go. He needed you more and more. He discovered he was much more of a giver.

Normally, he takes his sweet time with you. The first time he had ever tasted anyone was you. He always asks—that desperation in his voice. “Can I taste you? Please? F-Fuck, I see you dripping. Oh—Please?” Once he got confirmation, he would spread your legs and dip his tongue into your sweet folds. He could eat you out for hours—and he has.

He would groan against you as his tongue pushed through your folds. You tasted tangy and sour—so sweet to his taste buds, making his hands grip an indent into your flesh. The whimpers and whines that you let out are music to his ears, and he wishes the sounds were burned onto his soul. His eyes would always be latched onto yours, refusing to break the intense contact. He could fucking live in your pussy.

He couldn’t say no to you, though, could he? His cock was about ready to start leaking pre-cum. Your eyes looked so dilated and large with lust that he couldn't resist. 

“F-fuck, okay. Yeah, baby. J-just—” He breaks out into a moan from your eager hands. They pushed down his pants, pooling around his ankles almost in an instant.

“Wait-wait—”

You stop immediately and let go of his thighs. Some concern is etched across your face, and it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I just—I just want you to know that I’ve never done this before. I don’t—” He gulps. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

You almost let out a gasp. It was his first blowjob that you were going to give him, and he was worried about you. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's huffing out a breath. He just didn't want you to feel like you have to do something like this.

“Oh, Carmy, baby, I’m not uncomfortable at all. I’ve been wanting to do this to you for so long, but you kind of get distracted.” There was that implication that he knew about so well. A blush kissed the tip of his ears.

“You sure, baby? I’m not-I’m not forcing you?”

You wanted to know who hurt this man. His anxiety about making you feel comfortable was always through the roof. You grabbed his clenched hand and opened his palm. You pressed a sweet kiss. “No, baby. You’re not forcing me.”

He visibly relaxes his shoulders. “Okay.” He breathes out. “Okay.”

You avert your attention back to his thighs—and what’s between them. He could practically see your mouth water at the bulge that protruded out from his boxers. Carmen had always been big. No one had ever told him that before, in the late kind-of drunken night stands that he had. When you first had sex at his apartment and could really take a peek at his weeping cock, your eyes widened drastically.

You knew he was big, but goddamn, he is big.

“Can I, handsome?”

You looked up at him with a cute smile. The nickname caused his heart to stutter—his cheeks deepening the shade of red. "Yeah, baby." He says. Then he whispers, “Please.”

You dragged his boxers down his thighs, and they pooled right on top of his slacks. His cock sprung up from the force—already more than half hard and aching. His eyes can’t seem to stare at anything else but you. You looked so eager—so excited—to have his dick right in front of your face. It made his stomach flip. 

Your hand curls around the base, and he sucks in a breath. Your fingers just barely wrapped around the entirety of his length. Your manicured nails dug slightly into the large vein on the side—it made him choke on his own spit. 

“So fuckin’ big, Carmy.” You whined. You started to pump, it was a small motion, but it still made him moan. It sounded so desperate, making your ears ring. You couldn’t wait any longer, mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum already sprouting from his tip. 

You kissed the tip of his cock, and he shivered. “F-Fuck, baby—” He moans. He could feel his whole body throbbing—aching at the way you made him feel. 

You swirl your tongue around the ruddy tip and continue to tease him, wrapping your lips around the sensitive area. His hand immediately goes to the back of your head, unable to help himself. “Oh, fuck, holy shit—your fucking mouth, shit—”

His knees wobbled, the other hand steadying himself on the kitchen counter. “Y’taste so good, Carmy.” Your words were slurred with lust, making his own eyes dilate. His heart palpitated at you loving this—the insecurities from earlier disappearing like water down a drain. 

You start to take him even further. Your lips slowly ease down his cock, and one of your hands, still wrapped around the shaft, gave a squeeze. He choked on nothing and watched how you hollow your cheeks. You’re only halfway, but he swears he is seeing stars. “Feels so good, baby—so fucking good.” He squeezes his hand. 

Pride blooms within you, as well as the praises from him making you clench around nothing. You wanted to start touching yourself, but the intense desperation to keep a hand on his cock was greater. You choked a little as his hips unconsciously gave a small thrust. It made him let out a loud moan. 

He’s not sure where the confidence came from, but it’s spewing out of his mouth before he can stop it. “Fucking—shit—can you take all of it, sweet girl? Hmm?” 

He licks his lips. “Can you t-take my whole cock in your mouth?” He lets out a huff of air as you moan around his cock. “Be–be my good girl, yeah?”

The only confirmation you can give is the way your eyes gloss over. Tears threaten to poke out from your eyes, and the sight makes Carmen let out a curse. You slowly, yet again, take more of him in your mouth. 

“F-fuck,” he drags out. “Good girl—good fuckin’ girl. That’s it.” His knees wobble again, but he stays steady. Pure bliss sprouts in his stomach as he can feel the hot, searing pleasure from your wet mouth. 

You were able to fully take him—nose brushing up against the hair on his pubic bone. He groans and whimpers at the sight of you breathing deeply with his cock shoved down your throat. “Shit–shit–fuck, baby. That’s my pretty girl. Look–look at you choking on my cock. Holy shit—” He whined out. 

Warmth spreads through your chest at the adoration and lust that flows through his eyes. He can’t stop staring at the way you are just barely able to take him whole. His eyes widened even more as he watched you shove your hand down your shorts. 

“Oh, baby—” he says in a coo. “Look so good like that, huh? Fuckin’ touching yourself.” You could feel the way his cock twitches in his mouth. God, where was this coming from? He thought. Something about how your eyes sprung with more tears and you desperately humping your hand for some release was making him insane. 

He thrusts in and out of you, fucking up into your throat. You gagged around the girth of his cock and garbled out a cry. He moaned and whined at the feeling of your throat constricting against his cock and listened to the wet sounds of it all.

“Gonna–gonna cum, baby.” He swore that he saw your eyes sparkle—as if you wanted it all down your throat. He could feel that familiar swirl of an organism puncturing his chest. He panted as he watched the way his cock disappeared into your throat—it was a fucking sight. 

His eyes suddenly turn nervous. “Can-can I cum down your throat? Please?” He sees the way you nod with your mouth full, but he sees it. He sees the raw want and needs that fills your eyes. Yeah, you wanted his cum. You needed his cum. 

“Shitshitshit—” He stammers, thrusting into you two, three times. He groans out, low and guttural, as his seed spills into the back of your throat. He moans out your name in between shaken breaths from the ropes flowing through your mouth—salty and sour. He continues to pump into you, and you swallow every single drop—the added friction of your throat making him whimper. 

His hips still, but his cock stays inside of your mouth, twitching in pleasure. You hum around the base and watch as his body almost writhes. He looks down at you with the most content and relaxed smile you had seen.

You slowly pulled your mouth off of him; the pop noise was small. You started to press sweet kisses to his thighs, his hand going back to rest on your head. “Feel good, bear?”

His eyes were shining. “Felt so good, baby. Y’did so well.” Now his words were slurred with lust. He just couldn’t help but let his whole world revolve around you for a moment. 

You gently put on his boxers and do the same to his chef slacks. He offers you his hand, and he helps you pull yourself up. You wince at the sting in your knees, but in a way, it felt good. 

He immediately takes you into an embrace, not uttering a word. You gladly let him and rest your arms over his shoulder. He grabs your waist tightly and lets his head fall on your shoulder. He breathes in deeply, letting the scent that he knows so well flow into his nose.

He was completely and utterly relaxed—it was a sensation he didn’t feel all that often. You press a gentle kiss to his hair and then to his temple. The two of you just stood like that for some time, saying nothing and enjoying one’s company. 

Both of your attention to each other had ceased as the pot that was on the stove had boiled over. A lot of the soup had crashed onto the burning stove. "Fuck!"

Carmen immediately turned the stove off and let out a relieved sigh that nothing had burned. It would just be a bitch to clean up. You hand him a clean washcloth with a slightly guilty look on your face. He took the cloth from you with an annoyed (it was minorly annoyed) glare before wiping down the area.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Carm." You say, watching his arms flex. "I don't regret a thing."

He rolled his eyes but chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, yeah. Fuck you." The cursing was lighthearted because he knew it too. He didn't regret anything either. In fact, he encouraged something like this again, maybe just without being in the middle of cooking.

He tried the soup again with the dirty spoon—he had a suspicion that it was going to be thrown out anyway. "Shit—Fuck—it's overcooked."

You laughed, one hand resting on your chest. He glared again. "Hey, you can't—seriously, we burned the soup. It's shit."

He still might not admit it, but you could see the way his eyes were still glossed over from the earth-shattering orgasm. He could even feel his cock jump from the way that he watched you bite your lip.

You pressed a finger onto his chin, thumb resting on his jaw. "It'll be okay, Carm." You squeezed his jaw. "You can make some more tomorrow. I’ll help."

Finally, he smiled. Yeah, tomorrow, he thought. His eyes still looked glossy, and his loopy smile was bright. "Let's clean up and go home.”

[pizzaapeteer]

FU in my head part 2

Part 1 here Pairing Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary Unable to forget Mattheo's longing gaze after potions, your mind lingers on the meaning behind it. When he approaches you later that night, you're left unaware of his intentions and how this would play them out.

Warnings Oral (male receiving), female orgasm, semi-public sex, facefucking, swearing, slight degrading, sadistic thoughts, hair pulling, dom/sub dynamics.

Word count 2400

a/n: I was inspired by this lovely fic written by @mrsriddlenott

And big thank you to @finalgirllx for the amazing edit of Mattheo 💜

Darkness lurks near, flames flickering in the wind, their shadows illuminating on the old stone walls. The disappearance of time was visible with the passing of chattering students on their way to dinner. Making your way across the courtyard, your skin pricked with a frantic charge, your frustration growing in need of a release. 

The combination of your brimming timetable and interactions with friends had left you without a moment to yourself. Despite your aching core, you sigh in relief that you hadn't seen Mattheo since potions. You weren't sure your body could handle witnessing the attractive boy again. Just the recollection of Mattheo's amused smirk had your cheeks tinting. 

Troubling thoughts formed within that perhaps you had imagined it all. Worry pulled in your chest, fear that your fantasies were becoming more visual. Overwhelmed, you quicken your pace hoping to retreat to your dorm, but Mattheo's figure emerging halts you. You jump to conceal yourself behind a nearby pillar, impatiently waiting for him to depart. Unable to resist, you peak from behind the pillar, stalking his every move fervidly. Your eyes are drawn to him as he strides confidently down the corridor. Mentally groaning, you bite your lip. How can someone walking be so enticing? Curiously you watch, pulling back hastily as Mattheo's eyes narrow in your direction. 

You hold your breath in anticipation, hoping he hadn't noticed you. The air thickens at the sound of approaching footsteps. Mattheo's tall form surfaces in front of you, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he studies your expression. The scent of cigarettes and mint intoxicates your senses. You stare meekly, frozen in place, your core clenching at his intense gaze. A dark chuckle leaves his lips, his voice low, as if speaking to himself, "Finding you was quite the challenge."  Your heart quickens to an unrelenting pace, a surge of heat swells in your chest. You scrunch your brows, scanning his face for an explanation. Instinctively, you step back into the warmth of the light, his body closing the space between one another. The intimacy of your bodies allowed you to admire the sharpness of his features. Glints of intrigue flash in his mahogany eyes, his lips twitching into a mischievous grin. It left you swallowing as your lips parted, your cheeks heating, head screaming. "Why were you looking for me? Did I leave something in potions?" You ramble, unable to fathom him talking, even acknowledging your presence out of class. He doesn't answer your question, meandering his gaze between your eyes and lips. His tongue glides across his bottom lip, sliding in as he bites it. "You know, Theo's always telling me, it's the quiet ones... who are the dirtiest. Is that true?", glamour soaks his voice. 

Your eyes widen in alarm, jaw dropping, breath caught in your throat. Your neck prickles, a shiver running up it. Your core palpitates at his words, clear embarrassment and arousal paints your face. You'd never been so red before, the scarlet colour apparent to him as he smirks. He crowed at your reaction, watching you struggle to speak. "God, look at you, a flustered little thing." He rests a hand against the stone, flicking your ear with his finger tauntingly. 

Cocking an eyebrow, his eyes intensify, longing for an answer to his previous question. When you couldn't give one, except a small, unexpected whimper. An amused grunt withdrew from his lips, smirking he responds, "So it's true, you're fucking filthy, aren't you?". Mattheo revels in your desperation, his cock twitches as he watches you struggle to conceal your arousal. Feeling flustered as being called out, your eyes fall, avoiding his gaze. A cold hand grips your chin, jerking your head to look up to him. Towering over you, he leans his body down to meet your gaze, his eyes revealing the hunger inwardly. Your mind attempts to regard what was happening. Were you having another daydream?

In a rapid movement, Mattheo's lips embrace yours hungrily. The unforeseen action startles you before your hands instinctively clasp, reaching for him. Raising your hands, your fingers snake through his curls, pulling him closer. You had only kissed one other before, and it couldn't compare to the experience of kissing Mattheo. 

Mattheo's lips captured yours in a ravenous fire of passion, his hand veering down from your chin, shoving through your hair. His hand clamps the back of your neck, a sharp tug pulling your head against the hard brick. The harsh force sends sharp pains up your scalp, your mouth falling open in an ache. Mattheo, unphased by your pain, uses the clearly intended action to delve further. His tongue manoeuvres forth, colliding with yours, capturing your breath. Your head spins, your lips struggling to keep up with his expertise.

Relief consumes you, as oxygen replenishes your lungs, your heart palpitating. The moment is stolen by Mattheo's lips ravaging your neck. His hand still clasps you, his fingers squeezing your neck. His lips soft and warm attack your skin, small nips pinching at your nape. Your skin burns, body reacting as whimpers and moans leave your lips. Your eyes shut tightly as your fantasy is recreated. Unable to think clearly, your mind is blurred with desire and desperation. 

His hands roam downwards, the trace of his fingertips felt through your clothes, your legs convulsing in pleasure. Your skin pricks between his grasp, his hands halting their travels on your hips. A yelp leaves your lips as your hips slamming roughly into his noticeably protruding dick.  A cocky smug highlighted on his face at the marks displayed on your neck.  You used this moment to rest, your eyes never leaving his. Their usual shade of brown revealed a now darkened tint, consuming a predator's stare. He thrives off the power imbalance between him and you. Your obvious craving for him fuelling his ego and his mind races with possibilities of what to do next. "Get down on your knees," he commands. 

You stare at him aghast, "What?!" you hiss flustered but surprised by your own harsh tone. Blood rushes to your cheeks, taken aback by his vulgar demand. 

He quirks a taunting grin, tilting his head as he clicks his tongue "Oh come on sweetheart, I know how desperate you are to please me?" His hands drift to your face, caressing it, making you feel small. His words sent a rush of adrenaline down your core, your mind drifting into a state of glazed bliss at the idea of his cock between your lips. His grins widen as studies you, watching the wheels in your head turning, contemplating. 

Yet, the anxiety of being caught in a compromising position halts you as you scour the empty hallway behind him. A hint of irritation picks at his face at the slow lack of your response. He rolls his eyes before clutching your wrist harshly and pulling you into a near crevice, covering the both of you from any prying eyes. Now hidden, the clear desire of his request shone in your eyes, your cunt throbbing. The clang of his belt draws your eyes down as he undoes it, your heart pounding in your chest. In a swift motion, he tugs his pants down to his feet, following next with his briefs. 

The sight of his protruding cock leaning against his abdominals makes your insides squirm. He wraps a hand around his shaft, releasing a sharp breath as he gives it a quick pump. You bite your lip as you ogle at the size of it; the tip swollen red, glistening with pre-cum.  He places a firm hand on your shoulder, guiding you down in your dazed state. Your knees burn on the cold pavement, the outlines of the cobblestones moulding into your skin. "Come on now, don't be shy, open up slut," he directs with a sadistic smile on his face. He taps the tip of his cock against your mouth, dragging it over your bottom lip. Your jaw drops as he guides the edge of his cock into your awaiting mouth. 

His hand slides through your hair, taking a fistful to tilt your head back slightly. Eagerness reeks off you as you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You were nervous, trying to channel your anxiety into adrenaline. Your mind is still in a state of awe at the reality of what was happening. Only earlier were you daydreaming about this. You wanted to leave a lasting impression; prove to him you were a good girl, ready to be obedient for him. 

You wrap your lips around his cock, the sounds of his grunts flowing directly to your core. Your legs squeeze together, easing your ache only slightly. You allowed your jaw to relax, as you continued to let him fill you up. His cock was the biggest you had ever taken, making you blink back tears. Mattheo groans as your warm mouth devours his cock. He stares down at you, admiring the pretty sight. He would never get enough of seeing desperate girls with their mouths full of him. He loved seeing tears brim at your eyes, smirking as he watched you struggle to take his size. 

His hold on your hair tightens, his hips shifting forward slightly. You get the idea pretty quickly and move, placing your hands on his thighs for stability. "Such a good girl. Aren't you taking me so well? " He praises in a sadistic tone. You moan around his cock; the sound being silenced as he hastens his movements. Resting his free hand flat against the brick behind you, his hips settle into an unceasing rhythm.  

Mattheo's cock thrusts vigorously, scratching the back of your throat, making your core pulsing restlessly as it clenches around nothing. The intensity of his strenuous thrusts, have your eyes fluttering closed. Drool trickles down the side of your mouth as you gag, choking around his dick. "Look at me, I want to see those cock drunk eyes," he mutters, pulling on your locks jerking your head, jolting your eyes open. Gazing up, your eyes meet his lust blown orbs, a satisfied smirk coating his face. 

Maintaining eye contact, your body trembles at the feel of your approaching orgasm. Never having to withstand an orgasm so long before, your body submerges in pleasure, knocking the breath out of you. Your nails dig into Mattheo's thighs, your orgasm courses through you, your legs tremble, pressing together, to repress the movement. Unable to remain quiet, a whimper escapes you, vibrating around Mattheo's cock. 

Worry sets on you as a deep groan falls from his lips, your tremors edging him on. Praying your orgasm went undetected, you sigh contently at the sight of him caught in his own pleasure, for him to notice. "Fuck you like that, don't you? Like your mouth getting used like a little slut," he mutters, his hold on your head tightening. His thrusts become sloppier, his own climax hitting. You watch enticingly as his brows scrunch, flushes of pink, warm his face, small pants leaving his mouth. A stream of incoherent words spills from his lips as he shoots spurts of cum down your throat. Unable to swallow quick enough, the excess spills, leaking, down the sides of your mouth. Swallowing, you revel at the feeling of your jaw loosening as he removes his cock from your mouth. Mattheo regains his breath, readjusting his pants, tucking himself back in. 

He peers down at you, still on your knees. As you catch your breath, he reaches out, swiping his thumb to collect the excess of cum dripping down your chin. He nudges your lips open, insisting for you to lick it off. His eyes watch zealously, as you submit to his request, your lips clasping around his thumb, your tongue swiping, gathering the salty fluid. He withdraws his thumb with a satisfying pop. 

Traces of lust are still clear in his eyes as he trails them over your chest. He studies how your chest rises, your hardened nipples pressing against your school shirt, the evidence of no bra worn. The sign of your immodesty takes him by surprise. How had he not noticed earlier in class?  Your face flushed a crimson red, tear stains left down your face. He had never seen something so beautiful. God, your desperation to please him left his arousal at an all-time high. It was almost unprecedented, seeing you so wrecked by just sucking his dick before, unaware of your own climax. 

As you stand, he notices your weak knees, his eyes narrowing in on your thighs, as a drip of cum runs down. "Did you fucking cum?" He asks, his voice sounding almost reprimanding, had it not been for the curve of his mouth lifting into a taunting smirk. 

Shame washes over you at his confrontation, all traces of your confidence diminishing instantly. "Fuck, I didn't know you were this pathetic," a deep chuckle leaves his throat, his face wearing a sadistic grin. "Well, that's not true. I already knew that."

Your face pulls, frowning at his words. Your mind turns like a clock, ruminating on his words. You scan his face as you connect the dots, your expression changing into shock. "You're a legilimens?!" you splutter out. Your mind ponders endeavouring to recall any knowledge you learnt about legilimens. The art which involved delving into the layers of one's mind to extract their thoughts. Only known to be performed by an extremely powerful wizard or witch. You stare at him awaiting his answer, astonishment resting on your face. 

He leans back against the wall, allowing some space between you two. He lights a cigarette. "Knew you'd figure it out, smart girl." It made sense to you; Mattheo was son to a powerful wizard, one known for infiltrating the minds of his victims. He eyes you intriguingly, waiting eagerly for your reaction.

At his acknowledgement, heat blazes your cheeks, the realisation sinking in. "You read my mind!" anger courses through you. 

His eyes glimmer with amusement at your outburst, a cloud of smoke exhaling from his lips. He shrugs his shoulders, speaking nonchalantly. "Your thoughts were too obscene not to keep infiltrating." Not giving you time to interject, he adds more to the fire. "Plus, you should thank me." 

You cough on your spit "thank you?!"  "You're welcome." He grins at your response.  You give him as threatening of a glare as you can muster. "You're insufferable, you literally still read my mind without permission." You mutter.  Mattheo raises a brow, "Sweetheart, you were the one having erotic thoughts about me in class," he tuts. "I did you a favour."  "Besides," he gives an arrogant laugh, "Thought you wanted to be obedient. Huh?  Maybe it's time to punish you for being so ill-behaved. See how good of a girl you can be." He gives you a mischievous grin, knowing he got the last word in.  

[pyro-chaos]

Mike Schmidt x Reader

Pt: 3 Friday Nights

Summary: Abby’s first sleepover gives you and Mike some alone time.

The friendship continues

Tropes: fluff, sultry thoughts but no explicit smut.

Word count: 3337

And they were roommates…

Pt. 3 of This Series

A\N: Hey!! So I’m a bit more insecure about this one than I am with my previous two parts. I still think it’s sweet, and I like how it turned out, but let me know if I should do a rewrite!!

“I mean truly, the stark change within Abby…”

The school counselor’s words fall on ears occupied with something else.

“….I mean I’ve never seen…”

Mike tried to pay attention - at the beginning - but eventually the words tangled together to create a meaning the counselor could’ve communicated with one or two sentences.

“… so quickly. Whatever you’re doing, it’s clearly…”

Plus, Mike has more important things on his mind.

“… good that she has someone like you.”

Mike barely catches the end of her…seemingly endless lecture.

He hears the compliment. It feels unwarranted but Mike politely grins anyway.

Mike has questions. He has so many questions.

The problem that the counselor is referring to… Abby healed it on her own, mostly. Her friends helped her - but crawling out of her shell - thats all her. Mike just made sure she didn’t die. Even then…

He still feels stabbing guilt; a lot of the time. For what he almost did.

“Sh - She gets nightmares, sometimes,” Mike does too, but this isn’t about him.

“is” he gulps down the lump in his throat, “- is there anything I can do?”

The counselor folds her hands together like she’s trying to explain something to a feral child. Mike recognizes the gesture. It’s not one of genuine kindness; it’s the kind of gesture someone enacts when dealing with a delicate situation.

“Does she talk to anyone? About the nightmares.”

Mike huffs, “she’s pretty tight lipped about it,” but he knows that she wants them to stop.

“No,” the counselor almost sounds amused, Mike tries not to let the tone offend him.

“I mean does she talk to anyone about it.”

Ah. He gets it now.

“You mean like a shrink?” He questions.

The counselor nods and gives him a look doused in sympathy. It makes Mike want to get up and leave.

“Can’t afford it.”

“Ah,” she says, before launching into another lecture about how to avoid dreams, and calm anxiety before bed.

Mike listens this time.

The day after the meeting, Mike goes about his day.

Everything goes how it’s supposed to go. He goes to work, coordinates with his project supervisor, and eats lunch.

Until he gets a call from Abby’s school.

When Mike’s coworker, Jordan, calls him out of the work room, he says it’s an emergency.

Mike’s heart fucking palpitates. He almost drops the damn drill.

He’s never struggled to take off his gloves, or unclip the bulky helmet, but he does now. His hands get clammy and hot. It gets hard to breathe.

Mike’s still has the safety goggles on when he gets to the phone.

“Hello? What’s wrong?”

Abby’s voice comes through the other end, “Can I have a sleepover with Selina?”

Mike exhales. He rips the safety goggles off and rubs the bridge of his nose.

He takes one more deep breath before answering, “Is that all you called to ask?”

Abby confirms before launching into an explanation, “Please, please. Katy is going, and so is Josie and Sofia and they’re making cookies and Silena has a trampoline.”

Mike’s tapping the phone, his fingers feel tingly and that urge to hold his breath comes back, “Look, I don’t think that’s a good -“

“- No, It’s fine. They have a trampoline Mike, please.”

She doesn’t get it.

That’s the hardest part. She doesn’t understand that she’s not safe at someone else’s house. Overnight? What if there’s a fire? or what if she can’t sleep?

Mike remembers the school counselor's words about Abby’s progress. He would’ve taken her opinion with a grain of salt, if he didn’t see it for himself.

Even according to Mike’s independent observation; Abby’s started to smile around other kids a lot more compared to before.

In fact, she’s planning fucking sleepovers with other kids.

Mike thinks about his mom.

What would their parents do?

“I want to talk to Selina’s parents first.”

So, Mike does end up talking to Selina’s parents.

He meets them in the parking lot after school.

They explain the whole ordeal. Their plans and the occasion that sparked the sleepover.

They seem normal. They remind Mike of coworkers his dad used to invite to 4th of July grills.

The mom - Janice - works at the hospital, and the dad - Sean - works at a bakery.

Sean and Janice give Mike their house address. So, he knows where to drop off Abby after she goes home to pick up clothes and a sleeping bag.

When Mike enters the car, he’s greeted with two sets of expectant gazes.

Mike’s eyes shift between the two of you, Abby’s grinning, but you just look sheepish.

Mike rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, “make sure to pack your toothbrush.”

Abby smiles on the way home.

You're in the living room when just Mike walks through the door.

You have pajamas on, and you’re lounging on a loveseat tilted towards the TV. A mug of wine rests on the coffee table. Along with some type of cheese and cracker.

Something smells good.

“There’s food on the stove, it should still be hot” you call, then eat a cracker.

Mike beelines a straight shot to the kitchen, “Thanks.”

You mhm through a mouthful.

Mike can’t wait to eat, but when he reaches for a plate he sees the specks of sawdust layering his clothes.

He clenches his jaw, and counts backwards from ten.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna shower first, but if you leave the dishes I’ll do them later.”

Your eyes stay glued to the TV, “Okay, there’s also wine on the top of the fridge. If you want any.”

Mike showers and dresses. When he returns to the kitchen, the quietness hits him square in the face.

Abby’s not in the house, and it feels like he’s forgetting something important - Like his keys are missing, or he lost his wallet - It puts him on edge.

Despite his unease, something sweet and warm, like syrup, spreads through Mike when he serves himself a portion of dinner.

It’s mostly covered up by the gray-haired worry about Abby at someone else’s house, but Mike won’t deny the comfort of having a good meal, and wine, after working.

Mike doesn’t know how he did it when he lived alone with Abby. He had to cook, clean, and pay bills. All on his own.

Back before you, Mike would have to leave in thirty minutes for his second shift of the day.

Mike wonders if Abby enjoys the new schedule as much as he’s enjoying it.

He brings the food and the wine to the coffee table, and sits on the sofa adjacent to your loveseat.

Mike has no idea what the fuck you’re watching, but it seems…interesting.

He doesn’t care to complain, though. It’s not like he’s invested in the show.

A few beats of comfortable silence fly by before you speak, “How was work?”

Your question feels like an embrace. It’s the type of question that someone asks when they want to talk, but can’t think of anything else to say.

You want to talk to Mike, and it makes him feel some type of way.

Maybe it’s not that deep.

“Good - long - what’re we watching?”

“No idea. I think she,” you point to a character, “wants to do something that he-” you point to a different character, “doesn’t like. So, she’s going behind his back and stuff. But I’m just watching this because I like the show that comes on next, and I don’t wanna miss it.”

Mike hums through his food. He kind of wants to ask why you’re not going out. It’s Friday night.

Are you feeling alright? What’s different about this Friday from all the other Fridays?

Instead he does the dishes.

When he returns, he’s still not really paying attention to your show. Even though, every now and then you’ll add commentary. He just mhm’s through it.

Does Abby remember his number in case she wants to go early? What if she gets too cold in their house? What if she has a nightmare? Would she call him?

His fingers are pulling apart the threads at the arm of the couch, and his leg is bouncing.

He drinks more wine.

“- about it?”

Mike snaps out of his head, “uh,” he tries to blink himself awake, “- sorry, what?”

You shrug and gesture to his fingers pulling apart the couch, “you’re um,” you clear your throat, “you seem… off. Do you want to talk about it?”

He…didn’t even notice that he was fidgeting with the threads like that.

“Oh,” he chuckles, but the sound comes out sounding more awkward, and nervous than amused, “is it that obvious?”

“No, no not at all,” you make eye contact with him, and that creamy comfort returns to make a sugary home in Mike’s chest.

“Well…” you begin, “…Kinda, yeah.”

This time, the laugh you pull out of Mike sounds genuine. Even to him.

It’s not a huge laugh, more of a happy scoff really, but it makes him feel a little better nonetheless.

“It’s just…” Mike starts, and you direct your body to face him instead of the TV.

Even though your show is playing. You want to listen to Mike more than you want to watch your show.

He has to fight down a smile, “…this is the first time Abby’s had a sleepover.”

Your mouth makes an O-shape, and you nod like you’ve got it all figured out.

“Yeah, the first time is always the hardest.”

That makes Mike think. How would you know?

“My mom used to get so nervous when my brother started going to sleepovers,” you add.

Your understanding of his nervousness makes sense, given the backstory, but there’s a detail in that sentence about you, and it means something to him.

“You have siblings?”

You nod excitedly, “a brother and a sister.”

Mike literally has no idea how he’s never heard about this before, “how - how old are they?”

“My sister’s seventeen. She’s a junior in High school,” you’re talking with your hands as you talk about your siblings. You seem excited, It’s making Mike smile.

“You should see her play sports, she's the Volleyball team captain this year…”

For real, you’re talking about them like you’re proud, and the genuine joy in your tone makes Mike want to crawl up next to you.

“- and my brother’s heading into middle school but he’s such a sweet kid. He used to get so excited when we went to the park. He loves to climb trees.”

It sounds like you haven’t seen them in a while.

The stories connect a few dots for Mike, though. This is why you’re good with Abby.

You and Mike end up talking more, he blames the wine.

Apparently, he gets chatty when he feels that familiar alcohol-induced warmth in his stomach.

Eventually, he asks why you didn’t go out on a Friday night.

The answer is much simpler than he expects.

“My show finally came out with a new season, and the new episodes air on Fridays.”

Mike snickers. His amusement comes at the expense of himself. Of course it was something simple, he doesn’t know why he even bothered to speculate.

He doesn’t expect you to return the question. But you do.

“ - it’s your night off, Abby’s taken care of, and don’t you miss going out and doing your own thing?”

Well, to be honest, he never really had the time. For years, Mike spent nights occupied with…something he doesn’t need to do anymore.

He can’t tell you that, though.

So he says, “Nah, I never went out. Even before Abby.”

“Is it ‘cause you don’t like crowded spaces?”

Mike doesn’t think too hard about that, but he snickers because it feels like you pulled it out of a hat.

He snickered again. He’s doing that a lot around you.

It’s probably just the wine.

“No? Just never had the time.”

You nod, but then you get that wide-eyed excited look that you got when you asked Mike to move in with you,

“Wanna go out tonight?”

If anyone, ever, asked about why Mike agreed as quickly as he did, he’d blame the wine. He’d blame the wine until he went blue in the face and died of suffocation.

He doesn’t even admit to himself that the wine isn’t the reason he said yes.

After he agrees, you tell him about a place that you think he’d like.

You say that it’s, “like a botanical garden, but they put lights up, and serve food, at night.”

You tell him that it’s not crowded, like a bar or club, because technically it’s a fancy place, and that’s why you both need to change clothes before calling a cab.

So, Mike calls a cab. Then, he puts on a button-down shirt, and throws on a pair of his nice jeans.

Still, he feels slightly, very, underdressed compared to you.

You come out of your room wearing an elegant little black dress that hugs parts of you in a way that makes Mike blush and breathe heavy.

Your neck stays uncovered. He sees the skin where the hickies used to be, but this time there’s no hickies.

Mike can think of a way to change that.

His dick jumps, and he wishes he could do something about it.

You make him feel things that he doesn’t want to feel.

“You ready?” You ask, and Mike has to swallow and take a deep breath to keep himself in check.

He’s very ready. Just, not in the way you think.

“Uh, yeah. Are - are you?”

You smile and nod.

The cab drive goes well. Mike’s getting used to the tightness in his pants.

So, that place that you’d said he’d like, he does.

At first, it felt like he didn't belong. A lot of people dressed better than him, many have their hair in hairstyles, and he can’t pronounce more than half the food on the menu.

You can, though.

To be fair, the menu ended up as a non-problem; because after you pointed out the prices, Mike gave you a look, and you gave him the same look back.

You both scurried out of the seating area before an employee could take any orders.

Mike likes the botanical garden.

He likes how you talk in the botanical garden.

It costs to get in, but it’s gorgeous.

It's the twilight hour when you walk through the pathway together.

Sometimes your arms brush.

Every time it happens, Mike’s heart fills with something, but you don’t seem affected.

He glances at your fingers throughout the walk. He starts to note the little divots in your palms. How would they feel against his? Would you be mad? If Mike picked up your hand and kissed the palm?

You talk about the practical uses of plants that you see. Mike learns that dried-up yarrow leaves can help clot blood. He also learns that solar energy powers the lights shining on the rows of green life.

You talk about how cool it is, that the owners made this place one-hundred-percent sustainable, and he can’t help but agree.

Your smile infects him with feelings that flutter through his arteries, and you’re smiling a lot.

Eventually, conversation lulls, but it’s the nice kind of lull. It’s a quiet comfort, like warm sheets and fresh tea.

There’s a greenhouse exhibit towards the end of the pathway. A worker checks in your coat, then tells you where to pick it up at the end of the exhibit.

When he first steps inside, Mike nearly goes into shock over the change in temperature. It’s hot, and he has to roll up his sleeves immediately or risk complaining about it.

It doesn’t help.

The place smells good, though; like moist soil and moss.

The greenhouse has fairy lights hanging overhead, and multicolored flowers decorate the pathway.

It’s laid out like a maze, the illuminated path winds around little islands of floral beauty.

Mike likes the palm trees. Most of them have pretty colored lights wrapped around the trunk.

It’s nice, Mike won’t deny the otherworldliness of the beauty, but honestly, he wouldn’t enjoy it as much if you weren’t there.

You bring a certain excitement to the excursion that Mike doesn’t think he can feel on his own.

You ask him if he likes plants, and honestly, he’s never thought about it.

He shrugs says they’re nice, because they are, and they’re starting to remind him of you.

His shirt collar is drenched in sweat by the time you two get to the end of the greenhouse.

He’s self-conscious about the wetness at first, but then he sees your neck.

It makes him want to do other things that would make you sweat.

The garden isn’t that populated right now. He could do it, if you wanted it too.

Lift up your skirt, press his dick against the plush of your ass. He’d nuzzle his nose into the crook of neck, and breathe you in before dragging his tongue along your nape.

He’d grab a fistful of your tits from the front of your dress.

He would take off your panties, but he wouldn’t give them back. He’d keep them in his pocket like a treasured souvenir.

Would you like it? If Mike made you walk around with wetness staining your inner thighs?

Maybe you’d find it demeaning, to be forced to walk around like that, but maybe you wouldn’t.

Mike’s very glad that it’s nighttime, because it’s too dark for you to see the outline of his half-hard dick.

The pathway leads to an outdoor bar.

The counter rests under a gazebo-like structure. Vines curl around the pillars like the lights on the palm trees, and quiet music plays over the chatter of the customers.

The bartender greets you by name.

You introduce the bartender to Mike as Miranda, and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s seen her before.

Miranda comments on it before he does. Mike probably wouldn’t have anyway.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you before, you’re the roommate right?” Miranda asks, and Mike gives her a tight-lipped grin.

“Yeah, it’s nice to officially meet you,” he returns.

“Yeah you too,” she says, “Anyway, is there anything I can get you guys? Completely on the house.”

You get a little wide-eyed at that, “Hey no, it’s okay, we can -“

“- I still owe you for dinner last week, remember? It’s fine. Tequila sunrise?”

You ease into your barstool, a soft, yeah spilling from your lips.

Mike thinks it's cute.

However, Miranda’s attention moves to Mike, and his panic chases away the good feelings.

Mike’s never been to a bar like this before. He’s not sure what to order, he’s not sure how, “uh, what do you have?”

Miranda gestures to the bottles behind her, “I can make anything as long as we have the ingredients. What do you usually drink?”

He doesn’t.

“Do you have anything…” Mike’s cheeks are heating, he can feel it, it’s making him feel dumb, “…non-alcoholic?”

Miranda doesn’t judge his inability to order quickly. It helps.

“Yeah, I can do virgin drinks. What were you thinking?”

God, all these questions. He doesn’t like turning down free shit, but he’s starting to feel tempted to.

“What’s popular?”

“Piña Coladas and Strawberry Daiquiris are the most popular virgin drinks, but we also have fountain drinks if that sounds better.”

“Strawberry Daiquiris are good, they’re like slushies.” You interject.

Mike orders a Strawberry Daiquiri.

When Miranda leaves, Mike feels like he can breathe again.

Mike wonders, if you notice the nervousness behind the way he’s crossing his arms, because you smile, and tell him that he looks nice in a button-down.

Miranda returns with free drinks before he can think himself into a hernia.

Abby would like the Strawberry Daiquiri.

For the rest of the night, Miranda makes stops at yours and Mike’s corner of the bar.

Miranda’s presence made Mike uncomfortable at first, because he doesn’t know her, but your friend pulls him into conversations in ways that he doesn’t mind.

It helps that Mike likes how you look at him when Miranda asks him a question.

He likes how you’re paying attention to him, even when your friend is right in front of you.

Miranda comes out from behind the bar when you mention that it’s getting late.

She gives you a hug first, then she shakes Mike's hand.

Her touch makes him think of your palms.

When the two of you get home, it’s just a little past 10 p.m.

Mike wants to thank you, for showing him a place like that, and for spending your evening with him.

He didn’t have to spend the night cooped up, worrying himself into a frenzy, because you brought him out.

The gratitude gets stuck in his throat.

What does he say? Hey, thanks for spending a night around me! Let’s do it again sometime!

Well, sure, he could say that, but he would rather stay quiet.

He doesn’t want to come off too strong, he doesn’t want to give you a peek into the meat of him.

He’s surprised when you say something.

“Thank you for coming out. I had fun.”

The words come out a little awkwardly, like you’re unsure.

Mike’s eyes find yours, and the little smile in the corner of your lips makes him feel better - despite the quiet house.

He licks his lips and offers you a similar small grin, “Yeah, Me too.”

And he means it.

A/N: Although I feel conflicted about this chapter, I’m very thankful for the love you’ve given me on the previous two!

I hope you enjoyed!

[nc-vb]

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬, 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞 & 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞

sfw, the boy's definitely an over-thinker. not beta-ed oops.

Dan Heng's starting to think you have a staring problem.

This is... a new discovery of his, or, at the very least, a new habit of yours. Who knows how long it's been going on? Certainly, not him. But now that he just so happened to catch you looking his way, a little more focused, a little more intensely, he's... a little self-conscious.

For one, why him? Surely, there isn't anything on his face, not for any of the time he'd caught you. You or one of the others would have mentioned it, anyhow, especially March 7th.

Is it because... he looks different now? Is it because he dons the appearance of another? Is it unsightly to you? Are you upset that he didn't tell any of you, but especially you?

At least you aren't glaring at him, or even completely looking in the other direction away from him whenever your eyes met (unlike a certain grey-haired someone). At this point in your acquaintanceship with each other, he's not sure he can handle the anxiety that would come out of both of you ignoring him.

It unnerves him, and whether it's a good or a bad type of unnerving, he's not quite sure yet. It makes him sweat a little beneath his already-lightened clothing, though, and on his neck behind his long hair; makes his heart race a little faster.

Why? He wishes you'd tell him first, so he wouldn't have to approach you for an answer. Why? He wishes you weren't looking for an excuse to walk away from him when you see him approaching, like you aren't internally panicking (and quite too obviously, externally) when he stops before you. Why?

"So?" he says. You barely flinch, but your expression twists into a bit of a grimace, and he frowns.

Please.

"So... what?" you mumble, gaze firmly averted toward your own feet.

Please. Be on my side.

"The... looks... you've been giving me this whole time," he starts. "It's just... I'd like to know why."

Don't you avoid me, too.

"O-Oh." You clear your throat and press your shoulders back to raise your head, but you still don't meet his eye. "I... well... I-It's nothing bad, if that's what you're worried about."

"Then, can you tell me what it is?" he asks, barely a second away from pleading with you if you decline.

You huff, not irritably, but as if nervous, or inconvenienced, and it makes Dan Heng's heart palpitate.

"It's... it's difficult to look at you and speak to you at the same time," you lowly admit. His eyes widen in surprise, and almost immediately, his thoughts begin to race again.

"I-I'm sorry," he tells you. Now, you somehow have no problem looking at him, lips parted in shock.

"What? Why are you apologizing?" you say with a disbelieving shake of your head. But then it clicks, and you realize your mistake. "Dan Heng, it's not because of that, I-I promise."

Now, he's confused. It's not? Then, what else?

"I-It's..." Why are you stammering? Is it so hard to just... tell me? "Y-You're just--"

"Just what?" Dan Heng begs.

You swallow harshly, and under his intense and saddened gaze, you feel yourself growing warmer and warmer, almost boiling like a kettle atop a fire until you could hold yourself back no longer.

"I just didn't think it was possible for you to look even prettier than you already are, okay?!" you hiss at him. "I-I was embarrassed! Don't ask me about it anymore, alright?!" And you stalk off towards March 7th and Welt Yang, hands covering your face and stuttering out a loud, "S-So, we're leaving now, right?!"

Dan Heng can barely bring himself to react. Standing there amidst the rubble of the Scalegorge Waterscape, his eyebrows have shot so high up toward his forehead that he manages to jokingly wonder if they've flown away.

His skin flushes, his cheeks rosy and lips parted in shock.

"... p-prettier?" He blinks. Several times. The shock doesn't dissipate. "You... You think I'm pretty?"

What floods his veins is a confusing, concentrated mixture of relief and, surprisingly, adoration. For your lack of frustration for him, for the fact that you weren't ignoring him for omitting such a huge fact about himself, for so many silly thoughts and concerns that you managed to invalidate by shouting a simple compliment at him. You weren't ignoring him, after all.

That's all it took to shake him from his funk. That's all it takes for him to step forward, his toes barely touching the floor when he floats across the floor of the Dragonvista Rain Hall after you.

© nc-vb 2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

How would the Ghouls (AND Copia) react to seeing you surprise them with lingerie?

Prompt by the miraculous @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

Blushes profusely

This man is so flustered he can barely form a word, let alone speak a sentence

That doesn’t stop him from acting, though

He puts his greedy gloved hands on your body the second his mind can catch up to what’s happening

He’s torn between a state of disbelief and a state of unholy fuck I need to put my hands on this woman right now or I’ll die

“You are ravishing, cara mia.”

“Grazie mille, Papa.”

“But those straps, are they digging into your skin? I’d be happy to take you out of them.” 

“It’s actually surprisingly comfortable.”

“Good, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to have you while you wear that.”

-

Swiss:

Grins at you like a madman when you reveal yourself to him

He tries to hide it but he’s so into it

The fact that you put in all this effort to fasten straps, tie ribbons, and put yourself on such a perfect display has him weak

He has an intense urge to fall to the floor and worship at your feet, as he feels unworthy of such a goddess

“All of this effort, for me? I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d do something like this.”

“Well, it’s not just for me.”

“Hm?”

You produce a long silk ribbon that matches your lingerie, “This is for you. You can unwrap me and then I get to tie you up.”

He groans, “You’re fucking perfect.”

-

Phantom:

Can’t. Think. Heart. Having. Palpitations.

His dark eyes go so wide as he sees you all dressed up

His jaw is on the floor too

He runs a slightly trembling hand through his thick locks and unashamedly checks you out (not trembling out of nervousness, from sheer excitement)

“Oh, fuck me.”

“That’s the idea.”

“Get over here you little minx, you’re mine, you hear me?” 

“Are you going to undress me?”

“You know I don’t have the patience; I’m fucking you in that now.”

-

Dewdrop/Sodo:

His first thought is to mark you; he is overcome with the need to bite you and suck on your exposed skin immediately

Practically tears out of his own clothes at the sight of you presenting yourself for him

He needs you carnally

He’s fucking feral for you

“You wanted my attention, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Well I’ll give you points for all of this. But I’ll have to punish you too.”

“For what?”

“For walking around wearing this, anyone could have seen you. No, no, I’m not going to be finished with you until you can’t walk, siren.”

-

Rain:

Has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out the first obscene thing that pops in his brain

You got him, you got him good

He doesn’t care for surprises but this one is a winner

His eyes can’t drink you in fast enough, flicking his gaze over your breasts, your thighs, and your ass as you turn for him

“Wow.”

“That’s it?”

“I can’t say the other things I’m thinking, I’m pretty sure I’d get arrested.”

“I’ll take ‘wow’ then.”

“Oh you’ll be taking a lot more than that.”

-

Mountain:

Literally astonished when you show him what you’re wearing 

Utterly hypnotized by the curves of your body done up by lace

Hands start twitching like a crazed addict

He needs to touch you

“Get. Over. Here.”

“Right now?”

“Right fucking now. Either that or I come over there and pin you against that wall.”

“Hmmm…”

“The wall it is.”

-

Cirrus:

Goes from zero to one hundred in a snap

Can’t decide where she wants to look, placing you in front of a floor length mirror for her own pleasure

She is happy to stand back and watch you pose for her

Eventually she gets antsy, fingers tingling with need to touch you

“Need attention, do we?”

“I have some for you too, love.”

“You do?”

“Just for you.” You hand her a black tissue-wrapped package.

“Matching sets? What are we, in a band?”

-

Cumulus:

Purses her lips in satisfaction

Tries to keep herself from smiling, she’s trained you well

Extra points for you sitting on the floor so submissively

Something inside her calls to put her mouth on you, mark you all over with her dark lipstick

“Stand and me a twirl.”

You oblige her.

“What a good girl. Shall I give you a treat?”

“Yes, please.”

She opens the top drawer of the dresser and starts laying out the treats she plans on using on you. You’ve been good indeed.

-

Aurora/Sunshine:

Squeals in delight upon seeing you

You’d think it was her birthday the way she reacted to you

That doesn’t stop a mischievous grin from spreading on her face though

She wants to see you put on other things she’s had tucked away for special occasions 

“This one is next!”

“Haven't you found your favorite yet?”

“Nope.”

“No?”

“My favorite is you wearing nothing at all, gorgeous, I just wanted to see how many different pairs I could get you to put on before you beg me to take them off you.”

-

[indouloureux]

I got you 💞

Soft sex with Eddie and his gentle wandering hands, forehead pressed to your temple, lips sloppily kissing over your face. He has to hold your hands, has too, it's non negotiable. He loves you with every fiber of his being, you, his darling love. He knows he's not good with words but he always makes sure to show you with his actions. You make him feel safe - feel whole. He lives for his connection with you and as much as he loves the rough kinky sex you have together, the slow, soft, youre-everything-to-me sex is his favorite. It's the eye contact, the whispered words of affirmation, the way your thighs shake from holding so tightly to his waist as he thrusts lazily into you. He loves that you crave more, always more, but he takes his time. There's no rush to cum, only him and you and the soft sounds of your body's connected together.

CRIES. PULLS HAIR. WAILS AND DIES

yeah no he's thrusting so slow. so gentle, like you're made of this delicate porcelain he's afraid to touch. but eddie's a stubborn, daredevil man, taking you into his hands to admire. touching you like a child would touch an artifact in a museum. praising you like a devotee knelt before a sanctuary.

he relishes in the feeling of your hands scraping his back, hips rolling at the feeling. you moan in his ear — soft with a lewd lilt that makes him scrunch his eyebrows and pepper kisses onto the sweaty skin of your neck.

"i got you honey," he murmurs, nibbling at your jawline. your fingers tug at his split ends, the smell of sex and sweat and him—cigarettes and cheap cologne with a hint of apple in his hair—gives your heart palpitations. "so tight, hm? feel so good, baby."

"eddie," you whine. eddie removes a hand from beneath your arm to pull on the back of your knees, urging it to wrap around his waist to drive himself deeper like he knows you want. "a bit faster, please."

you enjoy the peaceful bliss of lovemaking with your wild and bawdy boyfriend. the way his usual rough libido with deep grunts and degrading words can switch from this angelic ambience. his thrusts long and deep in a way that tells you it isn't just fucking; it's one of his ways to tell you that he loves you as he gradually splits you open with his thick cock, his tip hitting that spot and the bush of curls above his dick brushing your clit at every push.

even so, eddie obliges to your request. the skin slapping a bit louder and faster, his sighs into grunts. his balls slap on the fat flesh of your ass, his hand slithering up from your calf to gently squeeze your thigh, only coming back to tuck itself beneath your armpit and caress your face. you moan, head sinking onto his pillows, and it urges him to look down at you.

"you're so beautiful," eddie pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "fucking stunning, sweetheart. even when you're on top of me, or like this beneath me, you still look like an angel. breathtaking in- in all your ways—shit...no wonder why this pussy's like heaven."

he drives down to kiss your neck, biting at the marks he's left. proud of his indelicate creations before he's licking and nipping at your breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth to muffle the moans that get louder as he fucks his thick cock into you.

"baby," eddie takes your hands, slowly linking them together and pins them on either side of your head as he comes back up to press his forehead against yours. and fuck, his grip is tight; like he's afraid of letting go. "i'm close, eddie."

you both feel the way your hearts quicken its pace, sweat mingling against each other. eddie's rings sink deep into the crevices of your slender fingers when he drives up into you as he says. "i know, honey. i got you. cum for me yeah?"

and as you both cum, eddie's taking the back of your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it, cumming harder every time you mewl at the feeling of his warm seed painting your gummy walls white.

(and when he pulls out, he's fucking his cum back inside your swollen hole with cheeky rubs to your puffy clit while he's kissing up your thighs. and god, despite it being so salacious, he'd do it any time of the day.)

its not even a request i just did it