#Might delete this in the morning I can’t feel my eye muscles lmao

[dawnsiren]

If a woman gave me a pre-peeled orange I would fall in love with her instantly. Like no question.

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 7: Somnophilia (+Double Penetration - 2 holes)

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Words: 2,397

Warnings: Somnophilia, double penetration, anal sex, sex toys (dildo + plug), dom!Roger, protected sex, light degradation (slut), edging

A/N: This was kind of inspired by a couple of different posts I saw on a (now deleted) porn blog. I’ve been wanting to do something with the concepts for a little while now and this seemed like the perfect opportunity!

I guess I was picturing 70s rog since its a flatmate/fwb type relationship but go nuts imagining whatever you want lmao

It hadn’t been Roger’s idea to set up a friends with bennefits type arrangement, but he’d liked the suggestion when you made it and before the end of the night was out you’d sealed the deal, so to speak. He’d been a touch tispy at the time, as had you, but when he woke up in your bed the next morning he hadn’t believed it to be a mistake, even if you were his flatmate. And so the arrangement (or as Roger dubbed it, The Fuckbuddy Pact) stuck. In an effort to make sure neither of you would feel weird about what happened and to avoid anything becoming too much like a relationship, Roger suggested that you should get all your kinks and weird fetishes out into the open straight away. 

“That way we’ll both know what we’re in for from the jump,” he said, looking at you from the opposite end of the couch, “None of that getting to know you shit, or taking our time. We’re both here for sex so let’s just figure out what sex we’ll both like and get straight into it, right?”  “Sounds excellent,” you’d said, cheersing his bottle of beer with your glass.   It was how he’d discovered your interest in somnophilia (a term he’d not heard before and had needed a thorough explanation of). But once he knew what it was, Roger had been keen to try it out with you. There were other things too but the somnophilia was the newest to him and, thus, the most exciting. Before the month was out you’d figured out a system to incorproate it into your sex safely. The main rule was that if either of you was asleep and naked, it was okay to initiate sex. Eventually there ended up being a few exceptions or addendums added to that rule – it was still okay if the sleeping party wore a top of some kind as long as they were pantsless, and once or twice lingerie had been deemed to not count as clothes, but only on special occasions when you’d prearranged it. It became a regular part of your sex lives, which was especially useful for Roger who often didn’t get home from playing gigs until the early hours of the morning. If you were in bed and undressed, he’d take the opportunity to blow off some of the adrenaline without having to use his hand which was underwhelming compared to your cunt. But, more often than not, you’d do what most sexual partners did and got it out of your systems before bed time.  

Roger already suspected that you were hoping for a quick tumble when he heard the knock on his door, but he had other things on his mind too as he told you to come in.  “Hey, Rog, you busy?”  “Uhhh yeah, sorry, running late for rehearsals but I can’t find my fucking drumsticks,” Roger said, moving things around his desk as he searched for the missing sticks.   “Oh, damn.”  “Let me guess,” he said, pausing in the hunt and turning to face you, “horny?”  “My friend recommended a porn thing and I kinda got worked up.” You shrugged, unembarrassed to admit what you wanted.  That self-confidence was enough to make Roger wish he could stay and give you what you wanted but he was already late and couldn’t afford to be later. Instead he laughed and turned back to double check his backpack, “I would but, I’m leaving as soon as I fin- Aha! Bloody things must have rolled off the bed. Sorry, Y/N.”  “Oh, no worries. I’ll take care of myself.”  He smiled at the thought, “Well I better go. See you tonight?”  “Yeah, see ya. Have fun.” 

It was later than he’d expected by the time Roger got home. Part of him (the part in his pants mostly) vaguely wondered if you’d still be up for something but the bits of him controlled by his brain thought it more likely that you’d have had a nice couple of orgasms on your own and called it a night. Still, he thought he might at least check in on you once he’d dropped his bag in his room. To his surprise though, his bed wasn’t empty like it should have been. He jumped when the light from the hall softly illuminated you, on your back and deep asleep, but his shock quickly turned to delight as he realised you were naked.   “You little minx,” he muttered under his breath, impressed by the invitation you were giving him. But as he walked closer he paused again, noticing something he hadn’t been able to see from the doorway. There, beside your hand, was your favourite glass dildo, as if you’d passed out after using it.  “Oh you are naughty,” Roger chuckled. He traced one hand down your body, between your breasts and over your stomach, and softly said your name, checking if you’d rouse. But you were deep asleep and not likely to wake up any time soon. A plan for what to do with you forming, Roger stepped away from you for a moment to strip down to his briefs. His cock was already beginning to stir at the sight of you. He reached out to touch you again, less cautiously this time, palming your breasts before dipping his hand lower and lower, down to your cunt, pleased to find you still wet from whatever you’d been doing before you fell asleep.  You let out a soft hum as he explored you, thumb teasing over your clit as he wet his fingers between your folds.   Roger paused at the sound, not ready for you to wake up yet, but once it was clear you were still asleep he sank two fingers into you. Slowly they penetrated your heat, pausing to make sure the sensation hadn’t roused you at all. But you slept on. Carefully Roger partially withdrew his fingers before sinking them in again, gradually working up to a consistent thrust that had your unconscious body sighing and spreading your legs wider.   “Good girl,” he whispered, watching you carefully. The hall light was still on but his door wasn’t open fully so the darkness was only dimmed slightly. He twisted his fingers inside you, easily finding the spots that usually made you scream his name but which now just made your eyebrows knit together. By this point in your relationships Roger was quite confident that he could understand your body. He’d made you cum enough times, awake and asleep, to know what you liked and just how much you liked it. And he knew what it looked like when you were close to orgasm. Which is how he knew to stop, to still his fingers and wait for you to calm down.  

There was no real reason to edge you. If anything it just made it more likely you’d wake before he’d got his dick wet. But he had fun with it. Watching the way you’d shift, your chest rising and falling more rapidly, your lips parted as whimpers fell from them, your hips automatically rolling to meet his hand. And then he’d stop again. It made him chuckle quietly to himself. Knowing he could control your body so easily was thrilling. It made him want to do it more. So as soon as your face had relaxed again, your limbs loose and limp, he’d settle into the rhythm once more, curious how much you’d take before you woke up and begged him to finish you off. It was tempting to just keep going. He pictured you waking with a moan, your first words a plea for release or better yet for his cock so he could fuck you properly. Roger groaned. In the time he’d taken to edge you a handful of times his dick had well and truly stiffened and, as much as he enjoyed toying with you, what he really wanted was to cum in you so when you woke you’d know you’d been used. With that thought in mind he withdrew his fingers fully, taking a second to suck them clean and enjoy your taste. Having you on his tongue just made him want to fuck you more so he carefully knelt between your legs, shifting one to give himself a better angle. He was moments from finally taking what he so wanted to take from you, when something caught his eye.  

It didn’t glint as much as it did in the day but he could see it’s outline all the same. And when he double checked that he wasn’t imaging it, pressing his thumb against the hard end of it, you groaned.   “A dildo and a butt plug?” He asked you, knowing you wouldn’t respond, “Is that a surprise for me? Or is it just because nothing satisfies you like I do?” Roger’s hand slipped down to his underwear, pushing his briefs down enough that he could get his cock out. He hissed as he spread his precum along his length, contemplating how he should use you. “Could fuck your cunt now and hope you stay asleep long enough for me to get back there. Or maybe I should just go all in, have your arse straight away. That’ll mean wearing a condom though. Or would it?” he shook his head, now was not the time to try anal raw for the first time, “No, condom definitely.” He was still trying to decide what to do when you shifted in your sleep, rolling onto your side. The new position you lay in made it much easier to reach your arsehole.  “That decides it then,” Roger said to himself, shedding his underwear and opening his bedside draw for his lube.  

Carefully, he settled himself behind you and slowly began to remove your plug. It took a few stops and starts, pulling out and sinking in, almost fucking you with it, as you whimpered in your sleep but you seemed to press yourself back towards him as if trying to encourage him.   “Just can’t get enough of me, can you?” he chuckled as he set the plug aside and spread the lube around your hole. He rolled the condom down his shaft and spread the lube along it too, humming at the slick friction of his hand, knowing he was about to feel something a hundred thousand times better. And then he lined himself up, pushing the head of his cock into the ring of muscles you��d so generously stretched out with your plug. He went slowly there too, partially so you’d sleep on and partially so he wouldn’t cum embarrassingly fast.   When he finally began to fuck you, you moaned into your pillow, able to feel it in your sleep.   Roger bit his lip to keep his own moan from getting too loud.  You moved in your sleep again, your legs opening more as you half rolled onto your front. It let Roger fuck you deeper and gave him better access to your pussy too.  “You’re a bit of a whore when you’re alseep,” he said softly, reaching for the dildo. You were still wet enough that it sank into you easily, like it remembered where it had been earlier and fit into your cunt perfectly. The way you lay meant he didn’t have what he’d call easy access to you but it was enough that he could thrust the dildo somewhat rhythmically. He faltered here and there as the feeling of fucking you distracted him but he didn’t feel too bad about the slips, knowing it was keeping you from reaching your release. Your sleepy sighs and moans got louder as he filled both your holes which just made him fuck you harder, enjoying the sounds you were making and wanting to hear more.  

You woke with a broken moan in your throat, jerking under Roger’s hands but he shushed you, his palms warm against your skin and his voice familiar and reassuring.   “Stay right there, baby. Being such a good set of holes for me to enjoy.”  You couldn’t do much more than moan again, dazed from the sudden way you’d been pulled back to consciousness and realising what you’d felt in your dreams had been very real indeed.   “This was what you wanted wasn’t it? When you fell asleep in my bed.”  You nodded, the sound of the fabric of the pillowcase loud against your ear.  “Uh uh, words Love. If you’re going to be a slut the least you can do is admit it.”  “Yes, Rog. Want-wanted this.”  “Good girl. And how do you feel now?”  “Oh god, close. So close.”  Roger slowed the pace of the dildo, putting more effort into thrusting into you, his hips slapping loudly against your skin.   You keened at the loss of friction.  “Slut-s don’t com-complain.” Roger grunted as he used you, “They t-ake what they’re giv-en.”  You whined but that just made Roger laugh, louder now you were awake but broken by groans and moans of his own.   It didn’t take much more for him to cum, stuttering out, “Fu-ck Y-Y/N,” as he did.  

Roger was panting as he eased himself out of your arsehole, replacing his cock with the plug and giving your hip a light tap of thanks. The dildo was still inside you, but he’d not been moving it at all as he reached his climax so it wasn’t much help.   “Did you cum?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as he flopped onto the mattress beside you.  You shook your head and sighed, “And after I waited here all night to surprise you too. Thought you’d be home sooner.”  “Is that why you had the toys? You got bored waiting for me?”  “No, I was expecting you to come home while I was using them. Only then I came and fell asleep.”  "Of course,” Roger laughed, “you still got your shag though, don’t know why you’re complaining.”  “I’m really fucking horny still, that’s bloody why. What are you smirking about?”  “Nothing. Just nice to know edging you in your sleep works just as well as when you’re awake.”  “Prick!” you squealed though unable to contain your smile at the idea.  “Don’t worry. Give me a few minutes to clean up and get my stamina back and then I’ll make you cum as many times as you want.” 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

[foli-vora]

more than words, pt.5

masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for your patience! Honestly I struggled so hard with this chapter and I don’t know why, I wrote and deleted things so many fucking times (overthinking, as usual), so I hope this lives up to your expectations! ☺️ and thank you for all of your love for this fic—you’ve all truly made my heart explode! 🥰 also, really sorry if I’ve missed any tags! Okay, here we go!

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catish’ Morales x f!reader

Word count: lmao... just under 5.6k I’m sorry

Warnings: okay, let’s see... swearing, ✨ smut—finally ✨ 18+, no minors! fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving) unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap people), masturbation (f), cum shot, cum eating, Frankie’s a messy pussy eater and no I will not be taking constructive criticism because he’s a thirsty man and you know I’m right. I think that’s it! (please let me know if there’s something I should add!)

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.6

+

Fuck. He was really here.

He was really here, in the dim lighting of your tiny apartment, hands buried in his pockets as he watches you shuffle on the spot.

Well shit. Now what?

“Um, so... this is my apartment.” Duh—you idiot.

You frown a little at yourself, palms clamming up with nerves. Your usual moves had all but vanished from your mind. You used to be good at this, so fucking good, but now, with Frankie standing right in front of you in all of his fucking glorious flannelette perfection, you felt a little out of your depth.

How did this shit usually go? You can’t remember. Fuck, you can’t remember. How did you get from point A to point B? Shit. You’re going to embarrass yourself. You can feel it. Oh my god, are you sweating?

Oblivious to your inner turmoil, his gaze flickers around at your words, taking in the many small personal details that make the space your own which he had missed earlier, before landing back on you, eyes darkening as your tongue slips out and runs along your bottom lip.

“It’s nice.” He comments, voice coming out a lot huskier than normal. You can’t help but clench in response, insides twisting pleasantly as his raspy tone settles in your ears.

“Can I—can I get you anything? Coffee?”

Stop. This is ridiculous. The both of you were damn near close to combusting in the truck and now you’re offering coffee? You might as well just show him his way out.

He senses your nerves then, relieved he wasn’t the only one seemingly unsure of how to move this along, but keeps his eyes on you, testing the waters as he speaks, “Maybe in the morning.”

Well, fuck. Okay then.

You swallow, chest heaving slightly as you inhale, heart fluttering away in your chest. God, just kiss him. You don’t need a build-up, just do it. You could feel the ghost of his previous kisses along your lips, could feel the heat of his hands run across your body from when he had pressed you up against the windmill. You needed it all again.

It’s quiet as you both study each other, lost in feeling of growing arousal as your clock ticks slowly somewhere in the background, and then something just snaps.

You both jump forward at the same time, Frankie’s arms immediately wrapping around your waist and bringing you flush against his body while your hands tangle in his hair, tugging sharply and pulling a low groan from him as his lips eagerly mash against yours.

The strength that you meet each other with throws you both off balance, and you stumble into your dining table, breathing a quiet chuckle at the apology he mutters against your lips. You shift to sit on the edge of it, widening your thighs to make room for him as he steps closer and presses his hips tightly against yours.

Your hands shake as you desperately attack the buttons of his flannelette shirt, all but ripping the damn thing down his arms when it eventually parts, and making a small noise of impatience when your hands slide along cotton instead of skin. He briefly pulls away from your mouth, hands quick to tug the plain t-shirt he had worn underneath his shirt up and off his torso, melting back into you the second he drops it to the floor.

Holy shit.

His skin is warm and smooth under your palms as they hungrily feel along his chest and dip along his stomach, grabbing desperately at his waist when his tongue slides into your mouth. He responds eagerly to your touch, pushing your dress up and out of the way to run his hands along on the bare skin of your legs. They stop just below the line of your panties, his thumbs tracing along the inside of your thighs and smoothing dangerously close to your covered pussy.

He feels your muscles move under his touch, feels the whimper fall from your mouth and into his when he squeezes your thighs. Your hips roll forward automatically, needing his touch to go just that little bit higher.

“Please touch me,” you plead quietly, lashes fluttering as you gaze up at him and his chest tightens.

His fingers are quick to move the lace aside and fuck—

He watches your face with open wonder; watches how your eyes close when his fingers lightly trace over you, watches how your breath catches when his thumb swipes through your arousal and spreads it over your swollen clit, rubbing soft insistent circles that have your toes curling in your shoes.

“Frankie—”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against the skin of your throat, tongue circling over your pulse point before his nose trails up and along your jaw, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips while your face pinches in pleasure, brows burrowing and grip tightening on his arms.

“More… please—”

He hums lowly, a finger soon swiping through your folds and prying at your entrance, sliding into the wet heat of your pussy with no resistance. You’d been ready for hours, practically dripping for him the second he first laid his hands on you. Your breath catches when he curls it, curious and searching, his lips twisting into a smug grin when your back suddenly arches, a startled cry falling from your lips.

“There we go.” And then he’s pressing soft kisses along your temple, adding a second finger into the mix and thrusting steadily, grinding his palm along your clit as he does so.

He drags it out and you hate that you fucking love it.

With the patience of a saint, he works you slowly, more than happy to drag out your pleasure as long as he likes. He holds you close with his spare hand supporting the back of your neck as you arch into him, lips never straying too far from yours as his fingers drive you closer and closer to the edge.

And then he changes something, moves his fingers just the right way, and it hits you out of nowhere.

Slamming into you like a freight train, the blissful torture hits its peak, and then you’re crashing down, nails digging into his arms as your pussy gushes around him and he’s quickly leaning in, swallowing the cry that flies from your lips.

His fingers slow before he gently pulls them out and then your hands are desperately reaching for his face, teeth clashing slightly as your mouths meet harshly.

“Bedroom?” He mutters hoarsely, throbbing in his jeans and aching to spread you out somewhere more comfortable, to see and feel more of you properly.

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up and register what he says, but when it does, you’re slipping off the table onto unsteady feet and grabbing his hand, stumbling in your haste to get to your room. He works the dress from your body on the way, hands eagerly spreading across the newly bared skin as you spin in his arms, meeting his lips as he backs you to the bed.

“My turn?” You question sweetly against his mouth, hands trailing lightly over the bulge digging into you before landing on his belt, fingers making quick work of the buckle.

He grins, stilling your hands. “Not even close—get on the bed.”

As soon as your ass meets the bedding, he’s on his knees in front of you, warm hands smoothing up along the soft skin of your legs and gently spreading your thighs. You brush a stray curl from his forehead softly as you recline onto your elbow, fingers gently trailing along the side of his face as he smiles at you, turning to kiss your palm softly before his hands are greedily grabbing at your panties and pulling them down your legs.

There’s no working up to it this time… no patience, no soft strokes.

Frankie dives in like a man starved, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he spreads your legs and licks a long, wide strip along your pussy. You feel him groan against you, your hips squirming on the bed as he tries to pull you closer against his mouth, tongue probing at your pussy and hungrily lapping up the mess he had made of you on the table.

Your hand moves to wind into his soft hair, whimpers falling from your mouth as his facial hair tickles at your thighs and tongue rubs relentless strokes over your clit.

Body still strung out and sensitive from the orgasm he had all but ripped from you before, it doesn’t take long for the gentle strokes of his tongue to build another, your stomach clenching as he tightens his hands, feeling the unsteady shake of your legs in his hold.

You dance precariously on the edge, stomach clenching in anticipation. “Frankie, I—fuck—I’m—”

His mouth works you faster, “Fuck, please—”

You shatter at his softly spoken plea, back arching and hand tightening into a fist as you tug harshly at his hair, crying out and drowning the sound of his own groan as you flood his mouth. He takes everything you give him, tongue diving to push into your pussy as you ride out and come down from your high. He pulls off of you with a small pant, licking his lips and brushing his chin with the back of his hand.

You make a small noise of contentment, “Thank you.”

He chuckles quietly, grinning at the look of blissed out mortification that washes your face following your words as he climbs over you. “You’re welcome.”

You grind your hips against his when he presses into you, hissing when your sensitive clit rubs against the rough denim, but your message gets across loud and clear, Frankie’s eyes darkening as he moves in to kiss you slowly. He breaks away for a brief moment to kick his jeans off, and then he’s covering you again, warm body pressing you into the mattress.

“I have a—”

You make a noise of refusal, hands reaching around to grab at his back to keep him on top of you. “Wanna feel you… ‘m safe—”

He can’t help the small groan that falls from his lips, nodding as he dives in for another kiss. “Me too—”

You whimper when he shifts his hips, slotting further between your thighs. He slides the head of his cock between your slick folds, slowly rocking back and forth across your clit and your chest heaves in anticipation, eyes falling shut when you feel him start to slowly slide into you. Fucking finally—

He fills you slowly, cock rubbing deliciously against your walls and you arch into him when he finally bottoms out, his face falling to rest in the curve of your shoulder. He shudders under your hands when he pulls out, thrusting softly into you and cursing quietly when your pussy flutters around him.

You whine, “Fuck. You feel so—”

He doesn’t give you a chance to finish. He starts moving, hips moving back before slamming forward again and again, the breath escaping your lungs as he moves to rest on his forearms, lips seeking yours for one more bruising taste of your mouth before he pulls completely away. A hand grabs your thigh, hitching it high around his waist and groaning quietly when he hits deeper on the next push.

You’re lost in a hazy sea of pleasure as he starts to move, frantic in his thrusts, the incoherent mumbling falling from your lips driving him to push harder. You have to smother your mouth with your hand to stifle your scream when he grabs your head board, using it as leverage as his hips start to ram harshly into yours.

He knocks the hand away from your mouth, eyes fierce, “I want to hear you.”

“Fuck—”

A thumb starts rubbing at your clit and you sob from the overstimulation, the burn of it sending shocks throughout your body as your body tenses beneath him, fighting the overwhelming sense of it being too fucking much while clinging to the heat of climax quickly building in your core.

“Come on—”

Your body responds to his words immediately. You’re not even sure what sounds comes out of your mouth when your body completely shatters from the inside out, stars blinding you as your pussy clamps down around him. His hips stutter and then he’s quickly pulling out and away from you, fisting his cock with a quiet groan until his cum is painting your pussy, covering your clit and sliding down your slick folds, mixing with your cum leaking from your entrance.

He all but collapses on top of you, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You’re too tired to open your eyes and watch him as he moves away, bed dipping as he stands and disappears.

A wet warmth covers your thoroughly wrecked pussy, and you blearily blink your eyes open to watch him softly clean you with a face cloth, smiling lazily at him when he glances up at you softly. He throws it into the laundry basket by the door and climbs up next to you, gently manoeuvring your tired body under the sheets before wrapping around you.

You blindly reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers as your body slowly calms and melts into the mattress and into the body radiating warmth behind you. The last thing you feel are soft lips pressing against your temple, a hushed goodnight ringing in your ears.

-

Soft fingers tracing down along your nose drags you gently from sleep the next morning. The smile that stretches your lips is automatic as your eyes focus on Frankie, dressed in his clothes from yesterday and perched on the bed next to you.

“I have to go.” He mutters, eyes soft and apologetic as the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheek.

“Oh,” you try not to let the disappointment flood your tone, but your face doesn’t get the message as it falls into a pout.

“I know—I’m sorry.” He smiles, fingers still caressing the skin across your face. Your chest tightens the longer he gazes softly at you, something shining deep in his eyes that makes your heart race. “Can I take you out for dinner sometime in the week?”

Delight radiates from your chest as you smile, nodding eagerly. “That would be nice.”

“Last night was…” he trails off, unable to find the words to describe what he felt about the evening before, and a flush of pink grows along his cheeks, his stomach flipping as your moans echo in his ears.

How the fuck is he meant to go about his day and run errands when the picture of you spread out beneath him and crying out his name as you cum keeps playing over and over in his mind like a fucking prime time movie?

“Incredible.” You provide softly, blinking shyly up at him as he grins.

“Incredible.” He agrees just as quietly, feeling like a complete idiot with how hard he was smiling. What was it Benny said the other day? Whipped.

You hold your breath when he leans down, nose scrunching slightly when his moustache tickles your upper lip, his mouth moving unhurriedly as his tongue slides against yours and quickly turning your brain to complete mush. You hum as he moves away, nose brushing softly against yours.

“Are you sure you have to go? You can’t stay for just a few more minutes?” You breathe against his lips, heat spreading across your skin as his eyes darken and slowly lower to where the sheets only just cover your breasts. He groans quietly, flicking a hand out to check his watch and brows pinching as he studies the face of it.

“A few minutes,” he finally decides, hand ripping the sheet away and lips curling up as you yelp in surprise.

He spreads your legs with firm hands, shuffling onto his stomach as he flings your thighs over his shoulders. You sit up onto your elbows, laughing quietly.

“This wasn’t what I had in—oh.”

Fuck—

His finger’s part you gently before his tongue is softly moving over your clit in wide, lazy strokes, and you fall back onto the bed with a whimper, unable to resist grinding against his mouth. Your hand blindly reaches down and soon warm fingers are interlacing with yours, his thumb rubbing across your skin as his lips wrap around your clit.

Fire erupts in your core, electric heat spreading throughout your body as he steadily works his mouth against you, nose brushing your clit as his tongue dives into your pussy, his groan muffled as your taste floods his mouth.

“Fuck Frankie, so good—”

His movements turn frenzied, face pressing up harder against you as his tongue swirls sloppily around your clit, the sounds filling the room obscene as he hungrily laps and sucks at your pussy. All you can do is hold on, the hand intertwined with his tightening as your other flies to his ruffled curls, tugging sharply.

Holy shit, just like that—

You struggle to fill your lungs, struggle to feel anything other than his mouth and how it works savagely against you, pushing you higher and higher until you’re right fucking there—

He feels your legs tense, and anchors himself to you with an arm across your hips, groaning when you cry out and gush around his mouth, coating his tongue and chin.

His mouth is still on you when the wave of bliss dissolves into a dull tingle, hurried movements now languid as his tongue smooths through your folds, his head resting against your inner thigh. You watch him through tired eyes, hand gently brushing his hair from his forehead as his eyes close at the soft caress, tongue curling one more lazy swirl over your pussy before he presses a light kiss to your clit and sits up.

“Now I really have to go.”

-

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Benny yells across the café, ignoring the heads that turn to frown at him. Frankie rolls his eyes, hand running through his hair as he quickly advances to the small group and slides into the booth.

“Sorry—truck wouldn’t start.”

“Mhm.” Santiago hums lowly, hiding a grin behind his cup as he sips his coffee, eyeing Frankie with a critical eye. “What was wrong with it?”

“What?”

Benny crosses his arms on the table and leans forward, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Your truck—what was wrong with it?”

Frankie shrugs, eyes falling to browse the menu in front of him. “Battery.”

Now fucking drop it.

Pope raises a brow, “Was it flat?”

Fucking Pope—

“Sure.”

Will snorts across the table, grinning wryly as Frankie glares at him. “’Sure’? It was either flat or it wasn’t.”

Fucking Miller—

“Look—I’m here now, let’s just eat so I can go and get Mena.”

The table goes quiet and Frankie sighs in relief, his eyes falling back to his menu. It stays quiet for so long that Frankie actually starts to think the subject has been dropped.

He should’ve known better.

“Fish got laid.” Benny coos softly, Pope and Will snickering behind their menus as Frankie sighs deeply, lips twitching as he fights the grin spreading from their teasing.

-

Rain softly pelts the roof of the truck as you giggle against Frankie’s lips, his dark gaze softening as you smile up at him. You brush a hand softly across his cheek, pressing another zealous kiss to his lips which he returns eagerly, hand smoothing along your thigh and pushing under your skirt to squeeze your thigh, grinning when you whimper into his mouth.

You had said goodbye a few times already, each time ending the same way—lips locked in a bruising, passionate frenzy, neither of you quite ready to let the night come to a close. You break away with a sigh, head tilting as his mouth trails greedily along your throat, tongue soothing the sudden sting away as he nips at your skin.

“I wish you could come up.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. He shouldn’t be—it’s not like he didn’t want to. He had a toddler to get home to. You understood, of course, but it didn’t make the goodbye any easier.

“It’s okay.” You smile at him, his chest tightening as you do.

“You could...” he trails off, chewing his cheek in thought as he looks out of the windshield before turning to you, eyes showing the nervous uncertainty that had flooded him. “You could come back to mine, if—if you want to.”

You blink, pulling away to look up at him searchingly. “What about Mena?”

Would he want you out before dawn or something? Sneak out of the house like you were teenagers or some sort of one night stand? You know he meant no harm by it, but the thought of having to grab your clothes and disappear in the middle of the night had you feeling a little insulted.

“I don’t mind you staying... if you want to meet her. You don’t have to, I was just... I don’t know. I’m just saying it’s—it’s on the table, if that’s something you’d be interested in.” His hands rub along his jeans, wiping the nervous sheen of sweat that had gathered on his palms.

You’re quiet, letting his words soak in and thinking over it seriously. You had no kids, obviously, and no friends that had kids, either, but... wasn’t it a little early for something like this? Although, she was still young—it’s not like she’d know any different.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything. I know it’s early—”

“Can you wait while I pack a bag?”

His heart speeds up as he nods. Shit—was he nodding too fast? He returns your grin as you quickly hop from the truck and rush through the light rain and into your building, disappearing from his view as the door slams behind you.

Did he do the dishes? Fuck—he left his folded laundry on his bed. Why didn’t he just put it away earlier?

It’s fine. It’s fine. Maybe he could fake going to the bathroom and just throw them into his cupboard before you saw anything. Yeah—that’ll work. It’s fine.

You reappear sooner than he expected, a small overnight bag slung over your shoulder and he can’t help the elation that floods his face, grin making his cheeks ache as he quickly leans over the seat and shoves the door open for you. His hand doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way to his place, your fingers drawing random patterns on the back of it as you listen to him sing softly to the music playing from the speaker.

The first thing you notice when he pulls into his driveway is how perfect his house seems to fit him, and he chuckles when you tell him as much. You stay wrapped into his side as he holds his jacket over your head to keep you from getting too wet, quickly ushering you up and onto his porch just in time as the rain comes down heavier.

He ushers you in when he finally gets the door open, and your giggling stops short at the amused gaze you get from the dark-haired man shrugging his jacket on in the entryway.

You wave politely, feeling like an idiot, standing close to the door as Frankie steps in behind you. “Hi,”

The man fixes his jacket on his shoulders, his dark knowing eyes sliding from you to Frankie as a sly grin starts to work its way onto his face.

“Hi. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He replies, grin widening as Frankie comes to stand next to you, nervously fiddling with his keys.

How the fuck did he completely forget about Pope? Jesus Christ—

Santiago reads the message rolling through his friend’s eyes—a big fat ‘get the fuck out now’, but instead of heeding the unspoken warning and disappearing, he leans his hip on the back of the couch, thoroughly enjoying the twist of Frankie’s features as he makes himself comfortable.

He holds a hand out, “I’m Santiago—the good looking one of the group.”

Frankie rolls his eyes as you give your name in return and shake the outstretched hand, turning to throw his keys in the bowl sitting on the table next to the door, and hissing a quiet insult under his breath.

“That’s debatable,” is your immediate reply, your eyes shooting to land appreciatively on Frankie with a smile, watching the angry flush of pink rise along the skin of his throat as he grins back at you.

Pope watches quietly, eyes flickering between the both of you before he chuckles. “You guys are cute. You need a rubber, Fish? Whoa—hey—okay, I’m going—”

You bite your lip to stifle the laugh bubbling in your chest, watching Frankie immediately wrangle Santiago under his arm and all but shove him out the door. Pope throws you a wave over his shoulder, grinning as he mutters something you didn’t catch in Spanish that had Frankie straightening up and growling a retort.

Your eyes roam around the room as the two men bicker behind you, taking in the comforting warmth that oozes from the space.

You step forward to wander the lounge quietly, smiling as you study the many pictures hung perfectly square on the walls. Your eyes find the familiar faces of Benny and Will in a few of them, along with Santiago and another taller man.

You pause on one, heart fluttering and chest tightening as you study Frankie, darks eyes locked on the blanketed bundle in his arms. The one next to it is newer, more recent—a bright eyed little toddler perched on his hip as they both grin at the camera, colourful streamers hanging above them and a giant ‘1’ balloon in the background.

Fatherhood suited him. He was glowing.

The sound of the door closing has your attention returning to him, eyes fond as you watch him start making his way to you.

“She’s a mini-you.”

He grins, looking at the photo of him and Mena, and nodding. “I know—poor thing.”

He laughs when you slap his chest lightly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leading you further into his home. “Would you like anything?”

“I won’t say no to another kiss, and maybe something else.”

He turns on his heel instantly, brow rising as he winds an arm around your waist and dips you slightly back with a curious ‘oh?’. You grab at his arms, giggling as you clutch his sleeves, “Frankie!”

He chuckles deeply, lips pressing softly against yours. You sigh at the feel of them, your hand cupping his cheek as his tongue slides out to meet yours, his hand grabbing a greedy handful of your ass and bringing your hips flush against his. You’re both completely oblivious to the door reopening behind you.

“I forgot my phone—don’t mind me.”

“Pope—” Frankie barks, frowning over your head as Santiago jogs to the couch and holds his phone up, wiggling it in his hold.

“What? I’m not looking.”

Santiago disappears, the door clicking softly behind him and you grin, kissing the corner of Frankie’s lips as he eyes the door, half expecting Pope to come waltzing right back in with some other bullshit excuse.

“Frankie…”

His dark eyes meet yours instantly, his stomach flipping at the mischievous shine in your gaze.

“There is something I’d really like.” You continue quietly, straightening up and slowly pushing him back towards his couch.

He’s putty in your hands, wide eyes blinking at you in awe as you run your tongue along your lip. He drops onto the couch with a small exhale when you push him, heart thundering in his ears as you drop to your knees in front of him.

“Can I?” You reach for his belt, fingers running along the cool metal of the buckle.

Fuck. You’re so pretty.

He must’ve spoken aloud because a shy smile curls your lips, eyes briefly falling before flickering back up at him from beneath your lashes. Your fingers move when he gives a shaky nod of consent, quickly working the belt open and diving for the button of his jeans.

Wait—

“Hold on a second?” He stands, carefully stepping around you and walking to his door, locking every latch and bolting the deadlock securely before turning and making his way back to you. “I don’t need Pope interrupting this.” He mutters in quiet explanation, lips twitching at your chuckle.

He settles himself back in front of you, inhaling deeply when your fingers work his jeans open and pull them down his legs. He’s already half hard, the mere idea of your mouth going anywhere near his cock enough to stir a hunger deep in his belly.

“You didn’t let me have a turn when you stayed over.” You accuse quietly, hand wrapping around him and giving a slow tug, working him softly until he was fully hard and pulsing in your hand.

“’m sorry,” he mutters, tongue running his lower lip as you continue to work him gently, his hips squirming under your ministrations.

“I think about this all the time.” You admit, eyes watching his cock throb in your grasp. “How you’d feel, how you’d taste.”

Holy shit—you did?

He makes a quiet noise when your thumb brushes over the head of his cock, collecting the small drop of precum that beads there and smoothing it along his skin. You watch it glisten, pussy clenching as it smears silkily under your thumb.

“Can I taste you, Frankie?”

He’s nodding before you even finish.

The wet heat of your mouth envelopes his cock and he exhales sharply, hands flying to grab at the cushion beneath him. He can’t help but buck into your mouth when your tongue slides along his slit, collecting the precum you had spread there, before running it along the underside of his cock.

You moan at the salty taste of him on your tongue, hands finding purchase on his thighs as you push yourself to take him deeper, fighting the resistance at the back of your mouth and taking him down your throat, holding steady as he curses above you.

Pulling back, you inhale sharply before starting to bob your head, lips wrapping tightly around his cock and sucking lightly as your hand moves to pump what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, so perfect—”

Your panties feel slick as your thighs rub together, your arousal soaking the fabric as Frankie moans quietly, head dropping to fall back against the couch in bliss. You run your free hand under your skirt, whimpering when your fingers press against your clit through the lace and start to rub little circles in time with the movement of your head.

You take him deeper, saliva pooling and spilling from your mouth as you gag around him, your pussy aching with the need to have something, anything, filling it. You hear nothing but Frankie; nothing but the small whimpers and whines that fall from his lips, and your fingers slip into your panties, swiping along your slit before thrusting them into your pussy, your moan muffled as you take him down your throat again.

His eyes fall to the hand disappearing under your skirt, your hips moving in time to whatever the fuck your fingers are doing and his stomach tightens.

“Fuck. Are you—” his eyes flicker up from your hips to watch your brows pinch together in pleasure and then he’s fucking done for; the thought of you getting yourself off while sucking his cock completely tearing him to pieces.  He groans loudly, cock throbbing and twitching as cum spurts from his tip and floods your eager mouth.

His hot release hits your tongue and back of your throat, and paired with the incoherent praises spilling from his mouth, it triggers your own body shattering climax. You choke out a moan from around him as your walls tighten around your fingers, his cum overflowing and spilling from your lips as you struggle with the fullness of him down your throat.

You slip your fingers out from your fluttering pussy and sit back on your heels with a heaving gasp once his cock starts to soften in your mouth, tongue messily lapping at the cum that spilt over your skin.

He dives forward eagerly, lips wrapping around your fingers and groaning as your familiar taste floods his tongue. He soon moves to your mouth, tongue catching the drop of his cum from your chin before he’s pushing it into your mouth, groaning when your tongue eagerly swipes along his.

Your kisses soon turn tender, gazes gentle as you part from each other.

Something’s happening—you can feel it in your chest. A feeling tugs at your heart, soft and insistent. It grows when he smiles, radiates warmth when his hands take yours as he helps you from the floor. You briefly wonder what it could be before shaking the thought from your head, devoting your attention back to Frankie as he walks you through the house to his bedroom.

+

Tags: @anu-simps​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @withasideofmeg​ @you-got-me-starry-eyed​ @mouthymandalorianalso​ @frannyzooey​ @wyn-dixie​ @intu-witch-tion​ @amneris21​ @mad-girl-without-a-box​ @pinguinstudiert​ @sergeantbannerbarnes​ @betterthanbucky​ @emilykjh​ @peterhollandkait​ @sara-alonso​ @starlightsearches​ @bookishofalder​ @empress-palpat1ne​ @shadowolf993​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @canyonmirrors​ @eoz-stuff​ @blackonemasie​ @layniapetrovnaaa​ @alberta-sunrise​ @goldielocks2004​ @linkpk88​ @afootnoteinyourhappiness​ @livilottie​ @hailmaryyramliah​ @kesskirata​ @blueeyesatnight​ @a-perfct-stranger​ @melaniermblt​ @dragcn-queen​ @gracie7209​ @mrsparknuts​ @janebby​

[absoluteindulgence]

How the Boys Give/Recieve

A/N: GOOD EVENING/GOODNIGHT Y'ALL IT'S 3AM WHERE I AM LOL. TAGS: @royaltywritesstuff, @burnedbyshoto, @ikinabi . I HAD ANOTHER NAUGHTY HEADCANON IDEA AND WANTED TO SHARE THEM WITH YOU GUYS. THIS HC IS LONG AF, SORRY IN ADVANCE BUT ENJOY THE FOOD. THE CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP (18+). THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT.

☀️🌞MIRIO🌞☀️

Give:

My baby is sweet and kind! Hella, eager to eat you like his last meal!

Will tell you to pee before and after sex (because he cares).

After you come out of the bathroom, there are towels for your body and pillows for your head. (He's always prepared).

He gets cocky when you get comfortable on the bed, telling you, “You’re gonna need the pillows big time.” You don’t even bother asking why, but your imagination roams. 

When he lays you down, he grazes your legs lightly. It’s therapeutic but also makes your senses aware and sensitive to his touch. Mirio is a little impatient to taste you, so he won't tease you longer than 30 seconds.

This dude will literally whisper "ITADAKIMASU" to your pussy. You're going to melt.

“Hey Sunshine, I’m sorry I lied to you. Remember how I told you I love to eat Ramen, it turns out that’s my second love. My first is you.”

Melt, reform, then EXPLODE.

His kisses are littered all between your inner thighs, reminding you how wonderful you are. Goes on to call you his Sunshine and Sunflower.

He's hella skilled because you taught him what you liked. He always pays attention to your body. From your breathing to the way your thighs shake.

His tongue on your clit is a signature of, many swivels, sucks, and spelling "I love you."

Receive

He’s a beefy boi, so imagine what’s underneath the underwear. Change your hero name from Lemillion to LePacking, honey

He's very enthusiastic, damn near antsy all from you just touching or staring at his piece.

He calls his cock "Your Love Rod" or "Man muscle" I'M CACKLING

It's really all jokes, but if you do say it while stroking him, dick gon twitch something crazy.

He gets all shy when you’re talking to him before placing your mouth on his tip. Jokingly tell him, “Your precum is enough to put in a cup, baby.” His face is gonna be RED.

Enveloping his cock in your mouth was trouble at first, but now you gobble him up like a thick ass banana. He’s always vocal, from light moans to deep groans. Very loud at times, groaning your name, telling you, “Damn, you’re so fucking good at this.” He’s usually out of breath.

He likes to grab your hair or the back of your head and apply a little pressure. He won’t always do it, but he knows you like the contact. Mirio’s eyes will occasionally be closed as his muscles tense. 

Sometimes you'll say, “Focus on me," and as soon as your eyes meet, you suck him off like a jolly rancher. His face is stuck in surprise and lust.

Bonus: Also, sidebar because thanks to @coconutnunnicorn​ , I will add that this fool does come home one day with that funny ass elephant hammock g-string, and it makes for a weird night. You spend an hour laughing, trying to breathe air back into your body, but that goes nowhere. He makes the noise, and you fucking lose it all over again. Imagine Mirio singing the chorus to Work It by Missy Elliot. We really love this dork lmao

❄SHOUTO🔥

Give:

His hands are so skilled, whether it's to massage your back, feet, or hands. So imagine how it feels when he massages your inner thighs.

Its the most sensual feeling imaginable. Shouto takes pleasure in pleasing you since you do for him in so many ways.

He doesn't just focus on your clit because that's not the only way of pleasure (he looked it up on google and tried new methods on you)

He likes to lick your inner and outer lips (labia majora and minora) since it shocks you, sometimes you'll hear a low chuckle and die on the inside from the heat of his mouth fanning over you.

His kisses to your clit are just as passionate as if he was kissing the lips on your face. He doesn't hold back from massaging your inner thighs, either.

He loves to squeeze and kiss them might leave a couple of hickies after stimulating you.

His thick fingers are always hooked inside you, waiting for your walls to clench around him.

Your moans are chaotic cries as you whisper or shout his name. 

Receive

So you pretend like you don't know what you're doing with him at times since his size is abnormally thicc. You tease him saying he can't fit in your mouth.

Shouto is so fucking sassy, so he looks at you like, "Oh yeah? And yet you called me during your break telling me to shove it down your throat."

You giggle while rubbing your hands down his chest, taking tiny licks at his shaft. They start gentle and rise to be longer. Your tongue circles his tip and boom, you’re deepthroating him.

His eyes shoot the deepest level of lust you can fathom as you give him eye contact. A cheeky smile creeps upon his face as he praises you.

“You take me so well” headass

Suck his tip like a Capri sun, and his toes will curl, but if you swallow his whole cock, he might lose control, and his quirk goes off. How do that D*ntyne Fire and Ice taste?

😈SHINSOU👿

Give:

Ultimate tease, swear to our lord and savior, cory in the house.

He likes to overstimulate you, lightly pressing his hands into your inner thighs, repeatedly saying that you're good enough to eat. Kissing your hip bones as he leaves hickeys and love bites from your belly button to above your knees.

"All of a sudden, I think I'm a cannibal" That line is gonna make you look at him with worry until his warm tongue meets with your awaiting bundle (compliments to Lyssa lmao)

Your moans make him suck and swivel faster until you release.

Your body heaves up and down fast as you try to regain your composure.

Shinsou is the type to close your thighs on his neck or face then ask, "You think we're done, Kitten?"

He gets back to business, and in between licks on your overstimulated clit, he says, "I - don't - think - you’re - loud - enough." His finisher move to end all your orgasms is spelling your name because you’re all he thinks about.

Waking up the morning after, your voice is gone, but he's already making you tea and your favorite breakfast.

Receive:

THICKY WITH THE STIFFY UH

He listens to 69 once, and that’s how he initiates head with you almost every time.

You wanna slap the shit out of him but take it out on his cock instead. Which he likes.

His cock is long with a decent girth. Like when you slap it up with your hands or lips, usually, he bites his own lips watching you do it. His dick twitches wild when you gargle him.

He likes to see how long you can keep eye contact, especially if he’s pulling your hair. I feel like he doesn’t mind your teeth grazing his skin because it’s a testament to how big he is in your mouth.

He’s disgusting in the sense where he likes you to spit all on his dick, “Wet it up nicely, Kitten.”

💥KATSUKI💥

Give:

Everything is a damn competition for this bastard. How many times can you cum? How fast will your legs shake? How many times will you pull his hair?

He pays close attention to your reactions.

He has a big mouth and knows how to use it.

So many times you'll tell him he's a shit talker and he grabs his junk saying, "And you know I can back it up. Now get on the fucking bed".

Sometimes he's rough on purpose because you react a little differently. And it's not the awkward way, but sometimes when you tell him to keep going, he goes beast mode on the pussy.

Grabbing your breasts or thighs, grunting as he eats. He licks your entire vaginal area. The first time he did it, you laughed because it tickled, but now it's become an overwhelming sensation for you.

You grab his hair with your thighs/legs tightening around his head, trying to push him away. But he grabs your thighs tighter, spreading you as wide as possible while holding them down.

You try to struggle, but he says, "Princess, I'm trying to eat. Are you going to let me?" After you nod, he says, "Then open your fucking legs, or I won't let you cum."

After you behave, he starts slow and but gradually gets faster and acts more ravenous than before.

He likes to spell out his (full) name fingers deep in you because, like I said, he fancies a challenge.

Receive:

He can be a real roughhouse at times

This asshole doesn’t care how you decide to suck him off, he’s a meaty big boi and loves threatening you with his dick.

EXAMPLE: “Bakugou, why the fuck did you delete the new episode of my favorite show.” “Because I’m tired of you fucking whining about you missing it.” “Well, how the fuck does this change what I’m going through?” “You’ll be quieter.” “Fuck you, Ratsuki” “Say it louder so that I fuck your mouth.” As you’re about to say something, he throws you DVDs of the whole fucking season. Before you can thank him, this entitled little bitch says, “You want an apology, you can suck it out the tip of my cock.”

Usually, you would get mad, but you happily oblige yanking his shit damn near from his body.

He curses you out, but you end up stroking him, a hand gripped tightly around his shaft with your mouth like a sturdy suction cup. He is surprised by your force as he adjusts while seated. He wants to hold your head down but wants to see how far you go without his help, shit-talking in the midst of it all, “Yeah, baby, I told you, you’ll be quieter.”

You roll your eyes and lick his tip gently.

Any other time he's not an asshole, you are a PRO with his THICC stick of dynamite. Sucking, Spitting, SLURPING (BECAUSE HE LOVES THE SOUNDS) HE THINKS HE'S BETTER THAN SPAGHETTI OR ANY POPSICLE YOU PUT IN YOUR MOUTH. You joke about how he's not gluten-free, and he will groan, making you laugh and making him nut.

Whether on purpose or accident, he says, "Here's your new skincare." If you know, you know.

Bonus: First, imagine your neighbors hearing this little argument, 0-100000 real quick. Second, imagine making Bakugou nut after you’ve over-stim him just because you laughed. Does that make him sensitive, or just hearing you laugh made him reach his limit? Also, I got the apology line from the artist ChuuRingo on Twitter!

🌋EIJIROU🌋

Give:

This man is so fucking gentle.

The first time he went downtown, he asked what you liked and wanted to know how you felt. The second time, did everything right/everything you wanted without asking.

Now every time after, your body is left in shakes and sweats.

He loves to leave you in a puddle.

Kiri loves to climb on top of you, kiss you all the way down to your sweetness. Breathy gasps escape your lips when his lips make contact with your neck, collarbone, the top of your breasts.

Sometimes he gets sidetracked playing with your nipples but still trails his kisses down your stomach till he reaches his right destination.

Kiri tries different techniques all the time, they all work wonders on you. He is so needy for your moans and touches. Rubs you wherever his hands will roam, his body worship coming into play.

He’s a little crazy because he loves when you squeeze his head between his thighs. Let him know you’re close to coming. There have been times where he almost passed out, he never told you. Kiri said that he would be happy to die between your legs, though. You jokingly tell him that’s manly but really apologize for having so much orgasmic strength.

Kiri loves to spell your name and his, his tongue is exceptionally fast so you can only imagine that he’s been practicing to do that with you for a long time.

Receive:

He loves to look at your lips and reminds you that you're so beautiful while giving him the good old skippity mmmmmbop

He's so cliche at times that he will tell you, "Damn, I haven't activated my quirk, yet I feel unbreakable already."

Cornball city, Mirio, and Kiri put your clown wigs back on.

He's so confident in your skills as he lays on the bed you share, spread the fuck out while you crawl in between his legs.

You tease him a little, but he's patient. He knows you're building up suspense or staring at his huge cock. Knowing that you love his size, girth, and the color of his throbber.

There are times that after he finished making you cum through oral that your orgasms lubricate your throat and relax your jaw. So it leads to super happy fun times for Mr. Red Daddy Riot.

Now you, like a challenge. Challenging how strokes, how many sucks, how many times you can lick his balls before he nuts.

His body shudders no matter where you put your tongue.

If you swallow, he goes above and beyond for you for the next six-eight sessions, or even if you seriously tap out. If you spit, he's gonna cuddle you into oblivion as you guys have a cheat day date with ice cream.

Finished 2:30AM EST 1.30.2020

[baenxietydad]

taking a walk on Ice (얼음산책) || The Baes

Where McKala can’t think of a title so she uses the title of a Korean indie song lmao

Marlin tries to give Nemo privacy, he's he's up crying until 2 AM so maybe that's not the tactic

Word count: 2422

tw: sadness? vampire racism?  

@justkeepdancing-nemo

MARLIN:

 2 AM and Nam-min was still awake crying. 

 Mu-yeol clutched at his blankets as through the thin walls of their Hollow home, he heard another sob from his son’s room. He hated it for so many reasons:  1. he never liked to hear his son cry; 2. it was over that abhorrent creature; and 3. he could have broken his son’s heart a little kinder. 

 At yet another awful sob from his son’s room, Mu-yeol threw his blankets to the floor and hurried through the house to his sweet baby boy. Baby. He was nearly a man now, technically, but he always felt so small to him. 

 “...Nam-minnie? I know I’m public enemy one right now, and you want nothing to do with me but…” he lingered in the doorway, aching to hug him but certain it would only make him feel worse. “...do you want me to leave?”

 NEMO: 

Nemo had said goodbye to Robbie two hours ago. 

 First, he’d tried to sleep, he really did, pressing his face into his pillow like that could stop the tears. But his heart kept aching and his breath kept catching, over and over. When he gave up, he reached for his phone on a dangerously low battery. Because this wasn’t done. His second, louder round of tears came as he went through to Appa-proof what was the world’s most unconvincing break-up. It was like trying to dig out splinters as he read over a text and forced himself to delete it. Over and over. Over and over. 

 At this point, the pain got unbearable, Nemo keening into the open air like he’d been punched. He had to flip his phone face down and just-- sob. Loud, horrible sobs. And still, he didn’t feel better. 

 He understood why it was called heartbreak. 

 When his door creaked open, Nemo quickly twisted in his sheets away from it. He once again pressed his face against his pillow, willing himself to stop crying, just stop crying-- to just be asleep, just be asleep…

 His whole body shook though, and Appa asked Nemo if he wanted him to go-- it just made it worse. He choked on his tears, unable to answer. No, he didn’t want Appa to go. But he didn’t want Appa to stay if he was just going to be cruel. And that’s probably what it was, wasn’t it-- Appa here to tell Nemo to stop crying over that thing--

 He would never be a thing to Nemo. Robbie, Nemo said his name in his mind and the tears rolled forth, neverending. 

 MARLIN:

 He tentatively stepped into Nemo’s room and stood by his bed, reaching down to play with Nemo’s hair. If Nemo wanted him gone he’d slap him away. If he wanted his appa to hug him after all he’d cry and do nothing else. 

 Mu-yeol was thrilled the monster was gone from his son’s life, but that didn’t mean he was happy to see his son crying. 

 “My baby,” he said, frowning. “Do you need me, or hate me too much?” 

 NEMO: 

Yes, Nemo needed his Appa.

 Nemo clutched at his blankets, pulled up to his heart. He tried to open his mouth but it wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t trust himself. What might fall out of him? It had only been two hours and yet Nemo had a thousand I love hims growing rapidly inside him, like a garden overrun. If he said something like that, Appa would scoff and try to rip them out of him no matter how much it hurt-- no matter that it felt like if Appa pulled one, ten more would grow in the wound left behind.

 Or maybe he’d say he was sorry, and then be ashamed of himself for being sorry. Maybe he’d say he was sorry and that would be the razor that would deal the final blow.

 “I--can’t--” Nemo gasped, not sure how to finish even this sentence. He, the boy who hated that word: can’t. It was a wall he couldn’t climb over. 

 MARLIN:

 Can’t what?

 Part of him was afraid to go forward with cuddling Nemo because he was sure Nemo would shove him away. After all, he hadn’t asked to be held. He probably wanted that creature here, not his father, but what could he do? All he was was his father. He was not Tae, or Finn, or Louie, or any number of people Nemo would rather have here now. 

 “Can’t what, Nemo? Stand me? We agree on something.” He muttered, crawling into bed next to Nemo and hugging him against his chest, patting his hair. “Too bad. I’m still your abeoji and I still love you more than anything.”

 NEMO: 

Nemo had been turned away from Appa, so when he climbed onto his bed and drew Nemo toward him, Nemo’s back pressed against his Appa’s torso. His wings were trapped in his abeoji’s pleasant, familiar body heat, and the sore muscles up and down his spine instantly soaked up the feeling greedily. It was a misconception that you could crush a pixie’s wings like this-- they were actually much more durable than people thought they were, and it took a lot of horrible force to hurt the wings themselves. 

 Nemo didn’t pull away from this hug. Even if he wanted to, he didn’t think he’d have enough strength.

 But he didn’t want to. He wanted the hug. He wanted more than that. He wanted the pain in his chest to stop crushing him. Could Appa feel that pain, even though it wasn’t a physical wound? Why couldn’t he make it go away?

 “N-N--” Nemo tried to say no, and he couldn’t.  It was so hard to breathe. “I--c-can’t--stop. It h-hurts.”

 He couldn’t stop crying. He couldn’t stop hurting. He couldn’t stop loving Robbie.

 MARLIN:

 He clutched Nemo a tiny bit tighter and closed his eyes against his son’s warmth. Nam-min felt so small in his arms, like he was a fledgling again, and it only reminded him that he wasn’t. He may be as bright-eyed, innocent, and full of hope as he was back then, but he was all grown up now. Soon he wouldn’t have to rely on his father for protecting, or even want to go to him for his affection because that was ‘kid stuff.’ 

 Even now, did Nemo want him, or just someone and was too sad to reject him? He should push him away. After all, he did this, didn’t he?

 No. He thought. Everything is that thing’s fault. It had no right to approach my son, and has no right to live it’s death-cheating existence. 

 Mu-yeol said nothing. Only held Nemo tight against him and kissed the top of his head. Appa loves you, he thought but didn’t say. You are safer without that...without it. 

 NEMO: 

Appa didn't say anything more. 

 Nemo might have imagined what he had said in the first place. His chest was full of holes, each one punched out by everything Appa had said before, and he was desperate for something to fill them. Anything. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered and tried to fill those holes with Appa’s touch, wth Appa’s I love you, with the kiss he placed on the top of his head. But the holes were so wide. No matter what Appa put in, these same things slipped out, lost in the darkness and in the depth of Nemo’s heartbreak.

 He drew Appa’s hand tighter around him, pressing his palm over his heart. He’d grown up associating those same hands with healing. Where they touched, Nemo felt better.

 He didn’t feel better. The tightness didn’t loosen. His breath caught, coming in short gulps. 

 And Appa still wasn’t saying anything.

 The silence made the holes so much wider. 

 You hate me, the silence was telling Nemo. You want me to shut up. You’re ashamed. You’re disappointed. You’re disgusted. 

 Nemo kept shaking, turning his face into his pillow to try to muffle all of this. 

 MARLIN:

 He could take Nemo hating him, and you know, he could take his tears. It was his broken, horrible silence that was killing him, for his actions in his silence said it all. Nam-min pressed his father’s hand over his furiously beating heart and the message was clear.

 It hurts, Appa. My heart hurts and I don’t know when it will stop. Nam-min’s silence told him. Mu-yeol hated himself which was nothing new but he did not hate what he did. Nemo was safer. But he wasn’t proud he had to hurt his son to make him that way. When he hurt like this he usually would just pour his love onto Nemo but Appa’s love couldn’t and wouldn’t fix this. He almost felt like leaving was better but Nam-min’s grip on his hand was ironclad. Whether he was helping him or not, his son didn’t want him to leave.

 “What can I do to help you fall asleep, my love?” Mu-yeol asked him, practically a whisper. There would be no making him feel better tonight, but getting him to sleep was the best he could do. “I don’t know how to fix your hurting heart, baby boy.”

 NEMO: 

He didn’t know. He didn’t know. Nemo had never felt like this before. His heart had been injured in other ways. There were times he missed Eomma so badly it kept him up too, quiet little tears burning in his eyes though never falling. After the nightmare-- after seeing Appa drown-- sleep evaded Nemo for days as he stared at his door, ears straining to listen for any sounds of Appa in the night. His throat had been tight with fear and his heart beat too fast, but it didn’t squeeze like this. That’s because there had been something he could do. He could listen. He could stay up. He could see Appa in morning and feel happy even in his exhaustion.

 But Nemo couldn’t do anything here. Robbie was taken away from him. Forever. 

 His body kept shaking as Nemo tried to stop through force alone, his lips locked together. He had to suck in breath through his nostrils instead. How could he answer Appa’s question? Appa didn’t actually want the answer. 

 The answer was-- let him be in love. And love Nemo for that love anyway. 

 He wanted to throw up. If he could expel his heart from his body, then maybe the pain would stop. 

 “Y-you-- y-you--” his words ballooned, then deflated, with every shaky breath, “--h-hate me now--” 

 MARLIN:

Oh. God. 

 Nam-min was hurt worse than he thought and it wasn’t entirely because of the breakup. It was because of him. 

 “Nemo, what?” Mu-yeol said, his eyes welling up with tears and his voice betraying it. “I could never hate you. You’re my sunshine, remember?”

 He kissed the top of Nemo’s head and then inched away from him so he could roll Nemo over to face him. “You are my son, and I will always love you.” He began as he wiped Nemo’s tears. “I will always look at you and feel warm, and happy, and glad that I brought you into the world with your eomma.”

 NEMO: 

Nemo didn’t believe him.

 This was the first time Appa had looked at him all day-- it wasn’t even day. It was night. He could barely see Appa in the dark and Appa could barely see him, even as he wiped away at the tears and lied, and lied, and lied. 

 Nemo’s heart throbbed like it was full of splinters. For the first time since Appa came in, he thought about shoving him away, if only because all this fake affection just pushed those splinters in deeper (He thought Nemo’s love was an abomination-- not love at all. He thought Nemo was an abomination for loving--and so would everyone else--) 

 He hiccuped around his tears, a tiny whimper on his lips where words should be. But he didn’t have any. He just closed his eyes and pressed his wet face against his appa’s chest (because even an appa who hated him was still his appa). 

 MARLIN:

 “I love you so much, baby.” Mu-yeol said, clutching Nemo right as he buried his face in his chest. “That will never change.”

 Even if his son did something as disgusting as associate with such an affront to nature as a vampire. That still didn’t make him any less perfect. 

 “You can cry for your broken heart, Nam-minnie. That’s okay. It won’t take one night to fall out of love with someone.” Even that...thing. “But don’t cry because you think that I could ever stop loving you.”

 Mu-yeol blinked as a few stray tears rolled down his cheeks and he pressed a kiss to Nemo’s forehead. God, it hurt to not be able to take all of his pain away. Or to reverse his son ever coming into contact with that vampire. It was the only reason his son ever thought that his Appa could hate him. 

 “Rest, Nemo. Sh, it’s okay.” He whispered, rubbing Nemo’s back. Quietly, he began to hum the tune of an old Korean song that he’d sung to Nemo since he was born. 

 NEMO: 

He knew the song.

 The song existed in some of Nemo’s earliest memories. With his eyes closed, it summoned other tiny things to the front of his mind, and these things bloomed gently: fingers stroking through his hair, the smell of honeydew and green tea (his eomma smelled like that), soft blankets and Nemo’s stuffed toy robin. He couldn’t remember Eomma singing it exactly, but he knew that once, she did. In most of the memories though, it was Appa’s soft, low voice, just like now. 

 He could pretend he was a tiny fledgling again, light as a feather, small as an acorn. That Nemo didn’t know anything about heartbreak. The only love Nemo knew was his abeoji’s love, as big as the sky, as warm as the sun. 

 Slowly, his uneven breaths smoothed out, grew deeper, longer. 

 Slowly, his stream of tears turned into a trickle. He sniffed. He was just so, so tired… 

 He felt the blanket lifted over his shoulders, heavy and warm. It was the only thing he could feel now. The rest of him was numb, but numb was good, he could fall into it and to the song and just for a few hours, not think… 

 Nemo drifted off to sleep, his eyebrow furrowed as if he was having a bad dream. But sleeping, nevertheless.