#drawing has been so hard lately but I adored working on this

[latenightdaydreams]

Oh, Author. To be in your presence (asks) one again is such a delight. With you and your divine power (writing)... Will you care to bless this lady by fulfilling her simple request? 🙏

Upon your Sub!König revelation (headcanon), a thought - a need - has been lingering in my mind for far too long. According to the scripture, it has mentioned König loves to be financially dominated. If this is true, grant us with the vision of Reader purchasing the best and the most expensive items - cough, toys and lingerie, cough - in the market as some sort of surprise for König. But it comes off as shocking news to him when he finds out whose is it for... It isn't meant for Reader at all. It's all meant for him. I am quite sure we know what ensues next: Our supposedly intimidating giant in lingerie, being teased and pleasured by toys 🤭

Sigh, what a sight to behold. A sight I shall engrave in my mind. Oh, and to add a little bit of a personal spice preference: Konig addresses Dom!Reader as "Meisterin (Mistress)".

Why such an absurd request? Unfortunately, I have quite the fascination for pathetic submissive men. And what better candidate to push into such abyss but our man König 😮‍💨🤌

Anyway, breaking out of my weird, poor attempt at formal speech. I hope you have a great day/night ahead and have been recovering from the pain you mentioned before 🫂 Take plenty of rest, stay hydrated and eat well, alright? Here's plenty of love that hopefully breaks your device screen and ends up san mothering you: ❤️💕💞💓💗🩷💖💝

You're so sweet🩷 Thank you for wishing me well! I also love how you wrote this hahaha

Submissive König is such a baby girl. I always think of this artist work! @ marndraws on twitter😮‍💨 They draw amazing sub/soft König.

A Little Treat (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

Sub Head Canon

>cw: fem/afab, bondage, toys, oral, sub/dom

1.4k word count

🪀

.

.

While sitting at his desk in the office, his phone goes off. The ringtone he has set only for you. He pushes himself back from the desk to check the message.

“Send $1,000🩷,”

König can’t help but to smile and he sends you 2k and text back, “I sent extra just in case. Love you.”

Standing in the middle of a high-end sex shop, you look down at your phone and smile. König is always so sweet. You walk forward to a classic maid outfit on the rack inspecting it. A kind woman wearing a black suit comes over with a kind smile.

“May I help you in any way?”

“Yes, actually. Do you carry this in XXXL?”

Once you get home, König hears the car pull up. He quickly abandons his work to rush downstairs and assist you. His eyes land on you ask you wait for him inside the car. In a hurry, he opens the driver’s door for you, holding his hand out to help you out.

“The bags are in the back seat.” You say as he kisses your hand.

“I’ll grab them.” König lets go of your hand and grabs four bags out of the back. His eyes widen as he sees where the bags are from. Excitement rushes through his body. “Liebling, what do you have planned for tonight?”

A small smirk crosses your lips. “You’ll see.”

You walk ahead of König as you both enter the house. Going straight upstairs to the bedroom, you sit on the bed as he places the bags on top of your shared dresser. His eyes gloss over you as he walks to you.

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You turn your head up for him as he leans down and kisses your lips tenderly.

“Danke…” His voice was low as he pulls away from the kiss; looking at you with such adoring eyes.

“Are you ready to see what I got?”

“Ja, absolutely.”

“Sit.” You stand and walk over to the bags and bring them to him.

König sits wide eyed as you pull out a riding crop. He can feel his dick tingle slightly, thinking of your ass jiggling once he hits it. Then a pair of handcuffs; his eyebrows raise in surprise. He continues to watch as you pull out many types of toys and his cock gets hard. Then you hold up a maid’s outfit…clearly not in your size. He tilts his head.

“You’ve been such a good boy lately; I want to treat you.”

“Das ist für mich?”

“All for you.” You say, holding the outfit out to him. “Try it on.”

He stands slowly and grabs the outfit. You sit on the bed opening the packaging to some toys as he gets dressed. König stands there looking at himself in the mirror. His muscles bulging in the tight outfit.

Stepping out of the bedroom, König sees you fully undressed. His jaw drops as he looks up and down your body.

“You look so hot König.”

He blushes and looks down at his own body before bashfully looking back up at you. “Ja?”

“Yes… come here.”

He walks to stand in front of you, his pale blue eyes gazing down at you. You reach up to caress his body, feeling his muscles underneath the fabric of the outfit. A hand dropping down to go under the skirt of the outfit, grabbing his hard cock.

“My handsome boy…” The words leave in a whisper as you walk around him, grabbing the cuff and placing them on his wrist.

You turn and walk to the bed, beckon him to follow you. The giant war criminal listens to you, no questions asked. “Bend over.”

He bends over the bed. His muscular ass showing from underneath the skirt of the maid’s outfit. You rub your hand over his ass before spanking lightly. Reaching for the riding crop, you step back and lightly tap his ass. No reaction. You reach back further and hit him with it again. He jumps slightly before letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Are you okay?”

“Ja.”

“Yes what?” You hit him again. A small red mark appearing on his pale skin.

“Ja Meisterin.”

“That’s my good boy.” You spank him a few more times. Reaching down, you grasp his balls and tug on them slightly before spanking him again. His body jumping slightly, making you giggle as you spank him once more.

“Who owns you?”

“You do, Meisterin.” The tone of his voice so tender.

“Good boy. Now lay on your back for me.” He maneuvers himself further onto the bed, rolling on to his back as he waited for your next move.

You go through one of the bags and find tape, nipple clamps, and a small pink vibrator. In one hand you hold the items and walk to the bed. With one finger you begin to flick his nipples, getting them hard. Once his pink nipples were erect, you place the clamps on them.

König winced slightly, but then bit his lower lip. “My little pain slut.” You giggle as you tug on the chain connected to the clamps. Standing off the bed, you walk around it, lightly hitting his abdomen with the riding prop.

König’s eyes are following your every move, watching as you walk in front of him and lift the skirt again, exposing his erection. Your hand wraps around it and begins to stroke his cock every so slightly. Spitting on it to lubricate it. König lets out shuttered breaths as you so this, the tip of his cock leaking even more precum.

Letting go, you get the small vibrator out, turning it on the first setting, then rubbing it on the underside of his cock’s head. His eyes go wide as he feels the vibration. He’s never tried touching himself with a toy before.

“You have to tell me which setting you like best.” You say as you switch through all five settings. On the third quick burst of vibrations, you see König begin to twitch.

“Tha- that one.” He manages to get out. “Bitte meine Meisterin.”

“Perfect.” The tape was easy to pull as you begin to wrap it around his boner, securing the vibrator to him. His legs twitch as he closes his eyes. A firm hand reaching down, grasping his jaw. “Open your eyes.”

He listens, his eyes instantly falling to your breasts. His mind fuzzy with the overwhelming sensation he is feeling right now.  Without breaking your eye contact, you climb up on to the bed and staddle his abdomen. You begin to grind your wet cunt along his solid belly, covering him in your arousal. A moan escaping your lips as König watches you do this with an intense gaze.

“Are you ready to eat my pussy?”

“Please Meisterin, please let me taste your pussy.”

“You’re being such a good boy.” Your legs move up until your lingering over his face, but facing to you can see his body. “Rub your nose in it.”

König uses his strong core to lean up and bury his aquiline nose deep into your pussy; taking in a deep breath as he does. Your smell is like candy to him, he can’t get enough. Slowly his tongue comes out and begins to lick between your pink folds. Thick globs of your creamy arousal being scooped up by his tongue.

In response you begin to rock your hips, matching his rhythm. Fingers going through his hair and pulling tightly. “Just like that.”

You lean forward and begin to stroke the shaft of him cock, his hips beginning to buck up into your hand rapidly. “Someone wants to cum…” You tease, feeling his head nod underneath you as he moans into your cunt.

“Will you cum for me?”

His hips begin to thrust quicker into your hand as his moans become louder. His tongue movements less precise and more erratic, like he is only focused on getting a taste and not actual pleasure for you.

“Good boy, cum for master.”

You lead forward so your ass if hoovering over his face instead of sitting on it. His balls tighten as his cock throbs. He tries his hardest to put his face back into your pussy while he cums, but you don’t give him that satisfaction. Toes curling as you leave him with only the view of your tight ass hole and creamy cunt.

His cock shoots out cum, the thick creamy cum falling on to your hand and his abdomen.

“Oh fuck!” König moans loudly. The vibration on the tip of his now extremely sensitive head was driving him wild. “Please, it’s too much now.”

A mischievous smirk crosses your face as you sit back down on his face. “Cum again for me."

[inknighted]

see how it shines 🌙

[averlym]

whshdfhfjf.,,,

[madxyy]

Selfish

| pairing : peter x reader

| summary: your boyfriend comes home injured--as usual--late at night and you can't help but want him safe from his life as spider-man

| warnings: fluff, touching wrists (sigh, again), y/n used once, baby used, peter being cute and angsty as usual, reader also being cute, light angst

author's note: i am trying to write angst so bare with me lol

2 am. 

It’s always when you hear that faint knock on your window that makes all your worries wash away in a split second. But not today, no, today was different. You were waiting all night to hear that thud on the firescape or the cries of the window seal being opened. All night you were absorbed in your own anxieties and worries. Your hopes were dreading as time went by. You were getting scared for the local crime fighting hero and you did everything in your power to take your mind off it.

You really did. 

Drawing, watching tv, listening to music, cleaning the room—which was a bad idea as it just bought you a reminder of the boy who has your heart. You would stumble upon Peter's belongings that were scattered around your shared apartment like confetti: his engineering notes, his sweaters, his latest sketch of a brilliant idea he had to improve his spider-man suit. It only made your heart ache even more, longing for his presence and increasing your worries for your vigilante boyfriend. So you would take another route and try binge-watching a new season of a recent tv show you are watching, which would likely just be collecting dust in the column of ‘continue watching.’

Your mind keeps on going back to him. ‘He’s okay. He’s okay.’ You thought to yourself. ‘He’s coming back to me. He’ll be alright. He’s probably on his way right now. It’s just going to be a scratch, hopefully. He's going to be okay, right? Oh god. Oh god.’ 

As much as you love and adore that your boyfriend is helping the city and its people by saving anyone from another lab experiment gone wrong or from a dangling car that’s about to fall off a bridge, you can't help but wonder if he would ever take care of himself. It’s hard seeing him everytime he comes through your window with a new bruise on his keen jawline, a wound on his ribs, a scar on his hip. You couldn’t deal with it anymore. You wish he stopped just for his own safety. You know it’s selfish but is it so wrong to want him safe? Just the thought of turning on the news and seeing J. Jameson reporting: “Breaking News: Our local friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man reported dead by …” 

You want him back with you already, his arms wrapped around you, drowning you into his warm embrace, so distinctly Peter, while he whispers soft and reassuring words that always mend your heart. You long to hear his random facts about science, see his lopsided smile that always welcomes you back into reality whenever you wake up next to him each morning. You yearn for his contagious laugh that makes your heart throb in delight over the euphonious sound. You want to smile at the tics he does when he gets nervous or the way he avoids eye contact and scratches the back of his neck when he is stuck in an awkward situation. You want him to be back so you can smooch the newly embedded scars that are planted all over his body which you love kissing away everyday when he wakes up. You want to see his dimples that adorn his face when he smiles wide enough because he finally got his web shooters to work, followed by a triumph fist bump to the air. You want to see his eyes, oh his eyes: brown, soft, autumnal, brimming with love and warmth, despite the grief and cruelty he has been absorbed in. His scent, a mix of cedarwood and asphalt (due to his high-flying urban adventures). You want to see the way his hair sticks up in the morning whilst the sun gives it a mixture of honey and bronze aura, running your hands through the mused up tufts of hair, which always leads to the corners of his eyes crinkling up as a sleepy, boyish smile tugs up on his rosy lips. 

Selfish. You can’t help it. 

You waited as long as you could; staring at your window for who knows how long. Your eyes were trained on the window for a good while, but you couldn't help it, all this anxiety finally got to you and you were feeling drained and your posture slumps with exhaustion. Your eyes burn from keeping them open, and soon those same eyes start to slowly droop. Blinking back sleepiness proved futile; your head eventually settled onto the cool silk of your pillow. The material greets your cheek, making it easier for you to be welcomed into slumber. 

It was 4 am, yet your worries haven’t gone down at all. Your eyelids started to grow heavier, and darkness gradually enveloped your senses, until you heard a faint knock on your window, piercing the silence. 

Your heart leapt, and you twisted towards the sound. In an instant, sleep was gone.

Not even a second later you heard your window opening—mm the sound of the cries. Your tired, red eyes snapped open. You were met with a disheveled and drained Peter Parker. His hair sticking to the nape of his neck and forehead, sweat giving him a post-shower appearance. A large laceration marred his chest. Oh. Your stomach dropped, eyes widened with horror at the sight of the injury. It looked like he was scratched -- no, clawed by someone or something. With quick motion, you quickly peel away the sheets, disentangling yourself from its soft embrace, and quickly hurrying to his side.

“Peter” you gasped softly. A hand settles onto his latex-clad one, the other arm wrapping around his waist to support him as you guide both him towards your bed, placing him where you had lain just seconds before. “It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it, seriously, I mean you should see the o-” Peter quickly swallows his words upon seeing your stern glare. He slumps his head downwards as he sighs in defeat. 

You sigh, telling him quietly that you'll be back soon. You left him for a few moments before coming back with a wet rag. Gently, you tug at the suit, trying to cautiously take it off him without aggravating his wounds. Soon, you were met with his bare torso, which is marked with a huge claw mark. You mentally steel yourself before starting to lightly clean around the injury, dabbing the wet rag gently onto his toned chest as you avoid his eyes. It’s not like you were trying to make him feel bad, but you were also trying to cope with the situation. You don’t know if you were mad, relieved, sad, maybe all of the above? Uncertain emotions swirl within you, but one fact anchors your turbulent thoughts: he is here, safe, and alive. That's what truly matters.

Peter seems to catch your avoided gaze, he studies you for a few minutes. Biting the inside of his cheek as he purses his lips to the side, trying to figure out how to approach this situation. He takes in your furrowed eyebrows, the way you’re also biting the inside of your cheek as you put all your strength into avoiding his worried amber eyes. He knew the consequences of inviting someone into his dangerous life, it wasn’t exactly a warm and inviting embrace, nor was it appealing, but what he didn’t fully grasp is how it truly hurts you, in more ways than one.  “Y/N…” he whispered, rough hands that have been through so much and experienced so much, reaching for the comfort of your skin but you gently dodge his touch, leading to a sudden twinge of anguish in his heart. You give him a slight smile to distinguish any suspicion – I mean, you weren’t doing a good job at it – before you continued cleaning the dirt away from his injury. Peter’s eyebrows furrow while his lips start to droop downwards, a frown laid upon his lips at the rejection. 

Biting the inside of your cheek harder to stop the tears from flowing down the curve of your cheekbones. You keep on wiping his cuts clean, overs and overs again, getting flashbacks of his visits from the last time you had to patch him up. Blurred vision starts taking over your eyesight and all you can think about is his pain, what he goes through, his blood, the thought of losing him, life without him, the many ‘what ifs.’ The many times he almost visited death's door. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was like a burning sensation bubbling in the back of your throat, the sadness was too hard to keep buried down now. You started shaking and before you knew it your sobs filled the walls and all your fears were coming out of you in the form of a liquid pea that contained so much. As soon as the warm liquid left a path down the curve of your cheeks, peter panicked and rose to action just like the hero he is—your hero. 

Quickly sitting up and fixing his posture, which made him wince slightly from the injuries but he pushed through, his mind set on you and only you. He wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes the wet rag away from your slightly shaky grip; gently putting it on your nightstand before he lightly reaches both of his hands out and holds onto your wrists.

“I can't” You choke out a sob. 

“Hey shh it’s okay baby, what’s wrong? You can’t, what? Tell me,” He coos. 

He hunches down, trying to find those eyes of yours that he swears are otherworldly, but you just can’t. You can’t see him like this. Hurt. In pain. Suffering. It pains you that he is in this much pain -- you can’t. “Peter I just… ” he gently takes your face in his hand, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs that are growing wet from your moist cheeks. His heart hurts from the sight of you crying, it conjures a deep-seated throb of pain in his eyes. “Look at me,” he whispers softly, gently nudging your head up with his right hand that is slowly descending down to grasp your chin as if you were a treasure, in a way you are, to peter you are his treasure, the main reason he even gets up or even tries, you are his rock, the only thing that makes sense in his life, and god does he love you, he loves you so much that his heart hurts. A quiet sigh escapes you, it sounds defeated. “Please,” He pleaded oh-so-gently, his gaze unwavering but patient. You sniffle before swallowing down a ball of saliva forming in your throat. As soon as you look up you are met with a pair of almond-shaped umber eyes that are filled with the utmost care, worry, and a hint of guilt. 

“Talk to me..” he whispers desperately, his heart crushing at the pain you are experiencing, he just wants to take it all away with his soft whispers but he knows they will be in vain. Shakingly exhaling “I can’t,” you frantically shake your head. “Please baby…” A few silent beats pass before you finally look back up to find those amber eyes looking back at you with nothing but worry and sincerity. 

You take a deep breath before swallowing deeply ”Peter...I just…” another beat passes. You take a sharp deep breath. “I just really wish you would take more care of yourself, I...I know you love saving people and fighting crime and trust me I love you deeply for that but you come home everyday with a new wound that’s even deadlier than the last one,” You pause, licking your salty lips. “aren’t you worried that maybe those people that you save won’t have anyone to save them if they’re local neighborhood spider-man won’t be there to save them anymore..?” You ask him, almost in a plea. Peter bites the inside of his cheek, thinking over your words with a solemn expression forming on his face that are littered in small cuts from his last escapades. He diverts his gaze to the floor and the room is quickly overcome with silence as he takes in your words, letting the heaviness of your words sink in.

The silence fills the room, it lets you both engulf into your own thoughts. Peter knew what it meant when he finally told you he was the unmasked superhero. He remembers spilling his deadly secret on a rooftop late at night, where you both were admiring the stars, laying on a blanket and talking about anything and everything. He remembers looking over at you and admiring the way the moon was cascading down on you, making you look even more angelic and completely ethereal. 

Peter looks at you hurt and guilty and god do you hate that. Both of you guys shared a gaze that held so much that it made the room feel denser as the distant sounds of ambulances filtered through the slightly open window. A breeze wafts in, brushes against you both, causing small goosebumps to prick up on your skin. Peter grew to learn from his past relationships and the impact it had on his partner knowing he was Spider-Man, which is why it hurts him to know he is the one making you feel like this. A calloused hand slowly creeps up, gently grasping your cheek with the utmost care, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of causing further harm. “I know, I know,” He murmurs, his voice breaking while his toughened fingers absentmindedly traces the curve of your cheek. “It’s just so hard to stop when I know I can make a difference.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat as his words sink in. Your heart breaks knowing how much his words are true and the scary reality that he won’t stop until crime is put to bed and everyone can roam around the streets freely. You shook your head, one hand gently grasping his wrist. “But at what price, Pete?” you ask ever-so-softly like the question itself was forbidden territory. Those eyes that he loves so deeply, look up into his eyes and it causes a gnawing feeling in his chest, almost making him wince from how hurt you look, how scared you look. Peter bites the inside of his cheek a bit harder while furrowing his brows, trying to think of what to tell you because he himself doesn’t know.

He takes a shaky breath, adjusting the grip on your face and slowly pulling your head a bit closer until both of your foreheads are resting against one another, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. The brush of skin itself was tender-filled, telling a millions of words with just one movement. “I am just sick of all the crimes happening here and the cops not even doing anything about it.” Peter whispered, his voice a low blend of anger and helplessness. You could feel the raggedness of his breath, each exhale a testament to the battles he fought alone in the shadows of the city. The close proximity allowed you to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes shuttered as if bracing against a storm of inner conflict. “Peter, I know you care – it’s one of the things I love about you,” you respond gently, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his clammy forehead. “But you can’t carry this burden alone. It’s too much for one person, even for Spider-Man.” Your voice was a soothing whisper, trying to pierce the armor of duty he wore so steadfastly.  

Peter simply nodded, the weight of the world momentarily lightened by your understanding. You saw the fortress around his heart crumbling, if only just a bit. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the constant battle between his duty and his love for you.

“I’m sorry…” Peter’s voice broke through the silence, each word heavy with remorse. He leans forwards, delicately kissing your forehead which grounds you and makes you close your eyes momentarily as you cherish the soft kiss that eases your heart just a bit. “I am sorry for not fully understanding what you are going through. I am so, so sorry,” He whispers into the dark night, the words flowing into the air as gently as ever. A few beats of silence pass while you take in his words. It gave your weary heart time to mend. Peter leaned back slightly so he could get a better look at you, his gaze locked with yours, conveying a depth of sincerity and vulnerability. “I’m truly, deeply, sorry” He whispers once more before he starts to softly press kisses underneath where your ear and jaw meet, your cheeks, forehead, nose, the wrinkles in the middle of your eyebrows, smoothing them out with the pad of his thumb, and finally kissing your lips, so delicately, it makes you want to cry even more. 

The kiss was so deliberate, it was a bundle of promises that his lips sealed to keep, an abundance of love, tenderness, deep affection and care that runs so deeply into his veins that it affects his touches and kisses, he can’t help but pour it all into the kiss, he just wanted you to know how sorry he is. He wanted you to know that he never meant to hurt you, whether it was indirect or direct. It makes your heart flutter and reassures your timid heart. Slowly one hand moves to cup the left side of your face as his other hand descends down towards the side of your neck as peter tastes the saline on your moist-tear lips, but even that doesn’t stop him from pressing gentle kisses against your lips, it only fuels his love, turning the kisses even more tender. Each kiss conveys a message of “I’m sorry, I love you, please know I love you.” You can taste the metallic on his lips as your lips were caressing his back as equally gently and lovingly, your kisses filled with a message of “It’s okay, I love you.” 

Peter slowly pulls back from the kiss, his mouth hovers over yours, his breath fanning over your lips, noses rubbing against each other in the tenderest manner ever. Both of your eyes were still closed, taking in everything, cherishing one another. His right hand moving back up to cradle your face, both hands cradling your cheeks and caressing them with the pad of his thumbs in a feather-like caress. You nuzzle your cheek against his right hand, feeling the rough and calloused palm that you grew to admire and adore. It always provided you with such care and comfort, always caressing or reaching out to gently touch you. Both of your hands now encircled around his wrist, caressing the inside of it so softly that it makes Peter almost melt.

Slowly, Peter opens his eyes. His amber gaze held nothing but love and the utmost care. Shortly after he opened his eyes, your eyes opened as well. Both of you search each other’s eyes as a white noise of admiration passes you both. After a moment of silent communion, the air between you both thickens with unspoken words and shared feelings, Peter finally speaks, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I can’t promise there won’t be more nights like this,” he says, his honesty laying bare the truth of both of your lives entwined with danger and uncertainty. “But I promise you, no matter how many crazy guys in suits I have to fight, I’ll always do my best to come back… to this, to us.”

This promise, simple yet profound, strikes a chord within you. It’s not a heroic declaration from Spider-Man, but a heartfelt vow from Peter Parker, the boy behind the mask, the one you fell in love with. His words acknowledge the reality of his life—danger is part of the package, yet he’s equally committed to your shared life, to you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

You feel a surge of mixed emotions: fear for the dangers he faces, gratitude for his honesty, and love for the person he is. “And I’ll be here,” you say, matching his tone with a blend of seriousness and affection, “not just to patch you up and be your personal nurse, but to love you.” The corners of his lips quirk up, his eyes twinkling with love as he takes in your words. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a silent vow of his commitment. “Thank you,” he whispers, gratitude resonating in his voice, “for everything.”

“Of course,” You whispered. 

The two of you stay like that, embraced in the warmth of your love for one another, finding comfort in the silence that now speaks volumes. The world outside, with its chaos and challenges, seems momentarily distant as you both cherish this safe haven of understanding and love you’ve created together.

[luveline]

Hi! I seriously love the way you write parental relationships with kids. Not really sure if you’d be interested in this idea but would the reader ever need to pick up Roan from daycare when Eddie has to stay late at work?

hi! im so happy you do baby, thanks so much for your request! this was a great idea, you're a wonder ;) this one got really long by accident it's not my fault ♡ girl dad eddie x fem!reader

It's a desperate phone call. You just got home from work and you can hear the landline ringing as you open the door.

"Hello?" you ask, hooking the red plastic receiver between your cheek and your shoulder.

"Hey, it's Eddie!"

You could tell from the grinding sounds in the background. "Hey. Working hard or hardly working?"

Usually Eddie would laugh at your bad jokes. He might look all frosty and cool on the outside but he's not so tough on the inside, a veritable goodball through and through. It's easy to think of him blowing raspberries on Roan's tummy, their matching happy smiles.

"Did you hear me?" he asks.

"What?"

"I asked if you'd do me a favour."

"Sure thing," you say immediately. You ease your shoes back on. "What do you need?"

"Could you pick Roan up from daycare?"

You drop the phone and scramble to pick it up where it's swaying left to right. "Is everything okay?" you ask worriedly.

"Everything is fine! Well, everything sucks, but it's fine. They need my hands for something, 'n usually I'd ask Wayne to grab her for me but he's tied up." You blink. "It's okay if you can't," he adds. You think he might be saying, It's okay if you don't want to.

You grin. "I can get her no problem. Will they let me? Do I need to be on, like, a list?"

"I can call them first. You're sure you don't mind? You can bring her here-"

"Where? To the garage? Can't she just come watch movies with me?"

He clears his throat. "You want to?"

There's lots of things you could say here. Eddie, I adore her. Of course I want to. Or even, Eddie, I'm pretty sure I adore you, so I'd do it even if I didn't love her to pieces.

"I'd love to! We can have a princess party, and-"

"That sounds great, baby. Thank you." His tone is a tad strained.

"Oh, right. Finish your thing! I'll get in the car as soon as you go," you assure him.

"Thank you," he says again, and hangs up.

You let yourself in through the first door and approach the desk.

You drive down to the daycare and can't help thinking about how excited you are to see Roan. You hope she'll be excited in turn, and then you tell yourself off for entertaining the idea. You're not her mom, you're not her anything. You're barely Eddie's anything.

You're really hoping you will be.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up Roan Munson," you say, nervous to talk to this lady you've never met before.

She squints up at you assessingly from behind a pair of bifocals.

"Eddie said he was gonna call."

"Nobody's called me," she says, monotone. "What's your name?"

You tell her your name. She says, "Uh-huh," like she couldn't believe you less and then clicks through a struggling computer, green light illuminating her face.

You twiddle your thumbs. You can hear the sound of kids playing behind the door but don't want to try peeking in case the lady thinks you're a freak.

Maybe Eddie's gonna call any second now and save you the awkwardness.

You open your mouth to reiterate when she hums. "Alright. I'll buzz you in."

She buzzes you in.

You're on the list. Eddie put you on the list.

You walk through the second door and spot Roan instantly, already dressed in her shoes, a chunky pair of black mary janes, and a sparkly red nylon jacket. Her curls are in frizzy braids, one hanging dangerously close to what looks like a pot of dirtied paint water.

The toes of your shoes hit the baby gate. The sound draws lots of attention, a bundle of kids all excited to see their parents and go home. Among them is Roan. Her eyes get wide and she smiles her lovely baby smile, hands paused where she'd been drawing a picture.

"Hey, princess," you say, not too loud as to disturb the workers but more than enough for her to hear you clearly. "You coming home with me?"

Rhetorical, obviously, but amazing to get to hear her say, "Yes! Yes, I'm come with you."

She strides to the babygate and lifts her arms. It's familiar now; while you haven't gotten any better at picking her up, you do it without thinking. You've barely wrapped your arms around Roan when a young man is passing you her backpack.

"Thank you," you say emphatically, not sure what to do with it. In the end you shrug it over your own shoulder.

Roan gives you a hug right there and then. She's all short limbs and extreme enthusiasm as she does, the paper in her hand smashed to your neck and the flyaways from her braids tickling your nose.

She so heavy. You can never get used to how heavy she is. You give her a great back-rubbing squeeze and then set her down. She isn't happy, but she doesn't get too mad, only pouts.

"You look like daddy when you do that."

"Where is daddy?" she asks.

You smooth down the lapels of her jacket. "He's at work with Uncle Wayne. But he sent me to come and get you. Does that sound okay?"

She shrugs. You shrug back at her because she's funny, and it makes you laugh.

"Yeah? I figured we'd go buy some candy and have a princess party." You whisper the last bit and watch awe slacken her face.

It quickly tightens. She screams and jumps at you, almost knocking you over in her rush to hug you.

It's a great feeling. You can tell why Eddie loves this part as much as he does.

You don't have a car seat for her so you decide you can walk the half an hour to your place. It feels long. You take pity on her little legs dragging halfway in and politely ask if you can carry her. She rests on the moving bump of your hip and answers questions about her day as best as she can, her drawing now safely tucked away in her mini backpack.

You stop at the small corner store on the way and let her fill a basket with drinks and chips and candy. All pink or purple, of course. Your princess party needs appropriate catering. There's a cheap tiara and wand set hanging on a rotating rack in the back and you add it as inconspicuously as you can to a growing heap of things so as not to spoil the surprise.

Carrying her and a grocery bag full of things is hard work but you don't mind, not when she's having such a great time. All she's done is chatter about princesses and her dad and you in varying arrangements and with varying passion.

"This is my house," you announce outside.

You let yourselves in, help her out of her shoes, and hold her hand as you climb the stairs together. Roan takes them one at a time. You don't suppose the trailer has as many.

"Good job, baby," you praise.

She gives you one of her more shy smiles and gets noticeably closer to your leg, almost clinging to you as you show her where the bathroom is and then your bedroom.

You don't quite have a princess bed, but you do have a lot of soft looking pillows. She squeals.

"You want to lie down?" you ask her knowingly.

Roan nods. You smirk and pick her up, rocking her back and forth as you count, "1, 2, 3," and toss her into your sheets. She lands with a roaring bubble of giggles and a poof of silken sheets.

You throw yourself down beside her.

She lolls her head to look at you. You share a private smile.

When Eddie finds you, it's in the living room. He'd knocked a couple of time and got no answer, had almost turned around to leave when he heard the TV playing a familiar princess song.

"Girls?" he asks, shocked at your sleeping figures.

Roan wears a cheaply made plastic tiara. Her shoes and socks are gone, her small legs and feet pushed out straight in front of her on the couch cushion. You have your legs kicked up on the coffee table and are surrounded by snacks, a plastic wind in one hand and Roan's hand in the other.

He weaves around discarded shoes and things and perches carefully on the coffee table next to your legs, freshly scrubbed hand reaching out to clasp your calf, rubbing up and down the length of it until you rouse from your dozing. Your hand tightens around his daughters. She's the first thing you check when you wake up.

His heart aches in the best way.

"Hey," he says, still rubbing your leg slowly.

"Hi, Eddie." You rub your face and sit up with a sigh, flopping over until your back is hunched.

Eddie chuckles under his breath and applies a little more pressure to his massage.

"That feels nice," you say through a yawn.

"I bet it does. Did you walk all the way here?"

You wipe your eyes with one hand and look at him through parted fingers for a moment. "Yeah," you confess sheepishly, dropping your hand. "I don't have a car seat."

His turn to be sheepish. "I'm sorry."

"No! Don't be, we," — you hold her hand like a trophy; his heart aches worse — "had a really good walk. Great arm workout. That's my exercise for the year."

He holds his hand out for your empty one. You pass it to him. "Mm," he hums skeptically.

You blink owlishly. "It's okay."

"Seriously, I had a great time. Um, Roan might be out of commission for a bit though. She did some intense jumping on the bed earlier. Oh, and I'm totally forgetting the best part, she..." You fade off as Eddie brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it.

"I'm sorry you had to walk. I didn't think."

Eddie kisses the same spot and then let's it fall, rubbing the invisible mark with purpose. "Poor girls. I'll make it upto you," he promises.

"That's okay." You mean it. "I had a great time. She's- she's really awesome."

"Gets that from me."

"Sure does. Same as her bottomless pit of a stomach, and her moods, and her-"

"Okay, that's enough."

"-lovely good looks," you finish, eyebrows raising at the starts innocently. "What did you think I was gonna say?"

His laughter finally wakes Roan. She stretches out and mumbles dispassionately, grumpy to be pulled from sleep.

"Hey, princess," he says gently.

Though he feels bad for stealing your nickname, he can't not call her that when she's soft with sleep and wearing her cute crown. The fake pink gems shaped like hearts set in silver painted plastic adorning her inky curls may as well be real jewellery for how pretty she looks.

"Daddy," she cheers weakly, fatigue scratching her throat.

"Poor baby needs a drink," you say.

You're on your feet before Eddie can stop you. He watches you go. Roan climbs into his lap with a self-satsified noise, digging her face into his chest. He looks down at her and drops a handful of dainty kisses against her head.

"Did you have a good day?" he murmurs into her hair.

"Good day, daddy," she says agreeably, already falling back into sleep.

"Best day ever!" you say from the kitchen.

He tries not to feel too jealous and fails.

-

more of eddie and roan

[hazelnutsforellie]

genesis | e. williams ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

PAIRING— jackson!ellie williams x fem!reader

SUMMARY— ellie has had feelings for you for a while... and finally opening up to you leads to many unexpected things, such as you teaching ellie how to ride for the first time

WARNINGS— nsfw, smut [18+], reader pleasing ellie, strap usage, shy & slightly bratty ellie, friends to lovers, mutual pining, jealous reader, sexual tension, top!reader, bottom!ellie, hair pulling, hickeys, nipple play, fingering (e rec), oral (e rec), overstim, the works, not proofread per usual.

WC— 6.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE— i got a few requests for bottom ellie and whipped this up over many late nights listening to genesis by grimes on repeat xx

TAGLIST: @kurosaaki @bellswlw @evanpetersluver @prrimordiais @urlocalgingersnap

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You saw her often. The witty auburn that your friend, Dina, would not stop talking about every time they'd get back from patrol. Ellie. The girl you've had a secret crush on ever since she arrived to Jackson. You were aware of Dina's feelings for the girl, but you couldn't change the way you felt, even if you wanted to.

Ellie's tough on the outside, which only draws you closer to her. Your adoration was hard to ignore, mainly because you've had a suspicion that she feels the same way. There was a particular moment that had you question everything.

You thickly swallowed, gently shaking your hand to swirl the liquor in your glass as your eyes moved back and forth. Standing at the bar, you leaned to press your back against the solid wood, sighing to yourself. The one person you hoped would show up couldn't even talk to you, getting dragged away from the bar to the dance floor by Dina before you could finish greeting her. Dina managed to sweet talk you into going to the winter dance to begin with, located at the church in the center of town.

You silently watched Dina and Ellie slow dance as you stood by the bar, until it happened. Dina slowly leaned in, capturing Ellie's lips into a kiss.

You felt angry. You could not believe that Dina had kissed Ellie, despite never telling Dina about your infatuation with the auburn haired girl to begin with. You couldn’t necessarily blame Dina. Hell, you wanted Ellie just as bad. You were too afraid to make a move first, worried that you were going to ruin your friendship. Of course, right?

The part that stuck out to you, was what happened after Dina kissed her. From where they were dancing, Dina’s back was facing you and you could see Ellie’s face. You tried to avert your gaze elsewhere, not wanting her to catch you staring. You couldn’t help but capture a glance every so often as they danced, though. When Dina kissed her, you just so happened to be looking, and you noticed Ellie’s eyes widen as if she had seen a ghost. When they pulled away from each other, Ellie looked at… you.

You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t care. You were upset, as anyone would be if they saw someone kiss the person they wanted to call their own. A sigh blew from your nose as you avoided Ellie’s gaze, downing the rest of your drink before lighting placing the glass down on the bar top. You weren’t particularly a fan of gatherings to begin with, let alone a dance.

You didn’t waste time heading for the front door of the church, waving and fake-smiling goodbyes to your friends on your way until you reached Jesse, who was conveniently by the door. He was leaned up against the wall, sweet talking a girl — most likely to shoot back at Dina.

“Hey, I’m heading out,” you advised, pointing toward the door with your thumb. Jesse stopped talking to the girl, you weren’t sure what her name was, and quirked a brow at you.

“Already? It just started,” Jesse nearly whined, pulling himself off the side of the wall.

“It’s been over an hour,” you deadpanned, your hooded eyes narrowing, "-and I didn’t say you had to leave with me.”

Jesse’s eyebrows raised, taken aback by the clear anger that rolled off your tongue. He didn’t take it personally, nodding in understanding. You then nodded back, backing up by a couple steps to grab your coat off the rack beside the door before making your way outside.

Ellie was hard to read. When you would see her around Jackson, she would make sure she saw you too. As if she was looking around, waiting to see you pass by just to get a glance at you. You were friends, but you weren’t extremely close. You knew each other’s interests, and had a fair share of deep conversations, but you were never close. To be fair, Ellie wasn't close with anyone.

Ellie seemed shy around you, wanting to hear all about you and not a peep about herself. Sure, she would tell you stories here and there, but she always wanted to learn more about you each time she saw you. It was flattering, really. You thought she was charismatic, and it made her that much more attractive.

You were silent your entire walk home, your skin frosting as the ice-cold weather consumed you. Your nose was burning red, light sniffles sounding above your lips as your boots crunched on the snow below you. All you could think about was how you let your chance slip between your fingers. You had many chances, actually. You were just afraid.

After you had left the church, Ellie looked to Jesse with a curious expression. Dina still had her arms wrapped around her from kissing her, but her grip slowly released when she realized Ellie’s attention was no longer on her.

“I’ll, uh… fuck. I’ll be right back,” Ellie mustered, giving Dina an assuring nod. Dina furrowed her brows in bewilderment, but Ellie didn’t give her a chance to say anything before she was heading for the church doors. She completely forgot to grab her jacket from the rack, making Jesse look to Dina in surprise.

Instead of heading after you, Ellie went home. She was upset, mainly with herself. She cursed under her breath as she walked, unable to stop thinking that she had quite possibly ruined any chance she had. Even though she was walking through inches of snow without a jacket, her adrenaline was warming her body just enough to make it home.

Unbeknownst to you, or anyone for that matter, Ellie had feelings for you. Hell, she was surprised you couldn’t tell. The way she would get nervous when you would playfully wink at her after saying a joke. The way she would feel her cheeks burn, and she would turn her head away from you for a moment to prevent you from catching a glimpse.

Ellie tried to act cool around you, as you would say. You had to admit that it was cute, though. You could tell that she just wanted to impress you, and you wished you could tell her that you were already far past that. The problem was, you simply took it as her being your friend.

When Ellie made it inside her studio home in Joel’s backyard, she immediately made her way toward her desk. She took a seat on her desk chair, her elbows landing on the solid wood of the table as she wiped her eyes with her hands. A groan fell from her lips while she remembered what happened at the dance, grimacing to herself.

She dropped her hands back down to the desk, where her journal was resting. She wasted no time peeling it open and flipping to the next available page, picking up a stray pen before writing down her thoughts. It was the best way for her to express how she felt.

I can’t believe Dina kissed me… not that I don’t like Dina or anything. I’m scared. I’m… anxious. I don’t know if I should sleep it off… Did she see her kiss me?

Ellie’s hand halted as she thought, letting a deep sigh escape her nose before she continued.

Of course this shit would happen to me. I never meant to make Dina think I wanted anything more than friendship. Fuck... I just wish she didn't kiss me. I have to fix it, right? Is she upset? She's seemed upset. She stormed out...

Ellie read over the inked lines over and over again before finally slamming her journal closed, standing from her desk chair. She made her way over to her closet, changing out of her button up and into a grey hoodie. She didn't bother grabbing a jacket to wear over it, knowing that it was only a two minute walk.

"I can do this," she whispered to herself, pulling the hoodie down her frame until it reached just below the waistline of her jeans. She then made her way over to her door, not allowing herself to hesitate or else she would overthink it and isolate herself.

Ellie wiped her clammy hands on her jeans, nervously sweating through the crisp air as she stared at your front door. Your place was fairly similar to hers, having built it yourself with your friends in an old garage.

Just do it, she thought. She huffed before raising her hand to your wooden door, firmly tapping her knuckles against it. Her heartbeat fastened when she heard shuffling from the other side, suddenly becoming more anxious. What am I doing?

Ellie's inner voice came to a halt when she heart the deadbolt lock turn, followed by the door squeaking open. Her eyes instantly met yours, her breath hitching in her throat. She had suddenly forgotten why she wanted to see you in the first place, panicking that you would turn her away.

You could tell that she was shivering, despite her efforts to keep her body still. You wanted to snicker from how stubborn she was, refusing to wear a jacket no matter how short of a walk it is.

“Ellie?” you shivered from the sudden burst of cold air, the high winds noisily shaking your cabin home. You noticed Ellie's change in outfit, seeing she was no longer in her button down that she wore at the dance, but was now wearing a grey hoodie. Ellie's lips parted as if she was going to speak, but nothing came out but a breath.

"Hey, are you... are you okay?" you asked, furrowing your brows in concern.

“I just… wanted to come address… some things,” Ellie clearly struggled to find her words, moving her hands as she spoke. She nearly winced at herself, her cheeks quickly growing pink the more you stared into her eyes. You intimidated her, and she loved and hated it at the same time.

"Okay, yeah. Sure," you nodded, not quite understanding what she meant, but you had an idea. You pulled the door open wider for her, motioning for her to walk inside. "C'mon, you're freezing."

Ellie obliged, quickly making her way inside your studio home with a loud blow of air escaping her lips to emphasize the cold. The warmth of your place due to your furnace quickly soaked through her hoodie, but not enough to stop her body from shivering. The layout of your place was nearly identical to Ellie's, but mirrored. Your couch rests on the left side of the room, your bed on the right.

"Jesus, you need to warm up," you said after you noticed the blue tint that lightly colored Ellie's lips. "Sit down, I'll add more fire to the furnace."

"No, no. I'll be quick," Ellie said as she sat down on your couch, wanting to just get it out. She couldn't allow herself to hold off on telling you how she felt any longer. You playfully rolled your eyes at Ellie's stubbornness, making your way around the coffee table to sit on the other side of the couch.

You both sat down, you sitting in her direction, your left leg off the couch and the other folded in front of you, while she sat with her back against the arm rest, one knee up and one down. Her urgency was slightly concerning you, causing you to give her your full attention and lean slightly forward.

"I... uh..." Ellie nervously trailed off, scratching the nape of her neck as she tried to formulate the proper words. "I saw you leave the dance... You looked upset."

Ellie didn't like the fact that you were potentially upset with her. She was not sure why you were upset, but she assumed that it was because Dina kissed her and not you. Although, she'd hoped that wasn't the case.

You sighed, leaning back up to sit comfortably, relaxing now that you knew what the topic was. You knew you had to say something, but you weren't sure if you wanted to express how you felt just yet.

"I... was bored," you lied with a shrug, earning no response in return. Ellie didn't believe you, furrowing her brows as you continued. "What are you wanting to clear up?"

Ellie nervously nibbled her bottom lip before looking elsewhere, her eyes trailing around your room as she spoke, "I just... wanted to let you know that I, uh— that I don't like Dina. Not like... that."

You had to admit, knowing that Ellie didn't have feelings for Dina was reassuring. Hell, she came to you after Dina kissed her. That had to mean something, right?

The tension was thick, much more than the usual. It was clear that there was an elephant in the room, a fact that neither of you wanted to address. There was something there, you both believed that. The way Ellie nervously scratched here and there, wiped her palms, her nervousness was dripping onto you.

"Do you think I like Dina, or something?" you asked, leaning your side against the cushions. Ellie looked surprised by your question, surprised that you knew exactly what she was thinking. Either way, she wanted to know who you had feelings for, because it was obvious it was one of them.

“No… I… no, no,” Ellie trailed off before groaning, unable to formulate a proper sentence. She suddenly shook her head, sitting up to lean closer to you. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers folded together to warm herself. "Okay, yes. I think you like Dina, and I was just... curious."

"Just curious?" you teased, raising a brow as you teasingly leaned closer to her. You almost heard Ellie suck in a sharp breath, her eyes subconsciously falling to your lips.

Ellie was used to your jokingly flirtatious personality, but sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if you were joking or not. Your personality was the main reason she fell so hard for you in the first place. Even though she hated that you made her blush in front of you, she never wanted you to stop.

"Well," you tilted your head, your eyes meeting hers again as you thought. You knew that your answer would reveal more than what you wanted to either way.

The damage was done. Your emotions were clearly displayed for her and everyone else at the dance. You were avoiding, and Ellie knew it. Your hesitation was just making her heart thump faster and faster in anticipation.

"I don't have feelings for Dina," you finally spit out, managing to hold eye contact with the auburn. You weren't admitting that you particularly had feelings for Ellie instead, hoping that you wouldn't have to.

"Okay..." Ellie trailed off as she leaned back against the armrest, continuing to nervously chew on her lower lip. The pressure in Ellie's chest was growing stronger, and your slightly flirtatious behavior was throwing her off your trail just enough. Instead, she began thinking that she had already made herself look a fool for showing up in the first place, wanting such information. She knew she had to clear it up. "I didn't want her to kiss me."

"Ellie, it's okay," you assured her, sensing that she felt uncomfortable with you thinking she liked Dina. You just couldn't understand why.

"It's just..." Ellie trailed off, not feeling completely satisfied. "You know when you get that overwhelming feeling that someone is upset with you? I just... I feel like I fucked something up."

"What do you think you fucked up? I don't understand," you expressed, shaking your head as you leaned closer to her. Ellie nearly shrunk, your warmth radiating off of you as you got closer. She could feel it, and she wished she could just wrap her arms around you to warm herself up.

Ellie thought about how she looked at you after the kiss, and how her eyes met yours. Your expression held a mixture of disappointment and sadness, and you held the eye contact for a short while before you set the glass down and left. It was obvious why you were upset, now that Ellie remembered more and more. If you truly wanted Dina, you would've looked pissed at Ellie. Yes, you were pissed. But you didn't show Ellie that, she didn't deserve it.

It clicked.

Ellie had a sudden burst of confidence, her legs still spread apart as she held onto her knee to lean forward, closer to you. You could have sworn you felt butterflies in your stomach.

"Why can't you just be honest with me?" she asked lowly, but kindly, her eyes never leaving yours. "You were upset. Just spit it out."

Ellie's behavior toward you had changed drastically. She wasn't as shy as she usually was. She was determined, and in a way, she seemed cocky. As if she knew something you didn't. That quick, like a flick of a switch, she got you.

Instead of allowing her to corner you, you reciprocated her attitude, but more seductively.

"Why don't you just tell me what you want me to say?" you teased, leaning closer to her until your nose was mere inches away from hers. Ellie didn't back away, remaining firm as she stared into your eyes, her cocky expression slowly faltering. It was a pitiful sight, honestly. You did nothing other than lean closer and she began melting.

Her silent action was enough for you to know exactly why she came in the first place. It was funny, both of you putting the pieces together in your own minds as you stared into each other's eyes.

You could feel your heart racing, thumping in your chest enough to make your necklace shake ever so slightly. Shaky breaths escaped Ellie's throat as her eyes trailed down from yours to your lips, not caring if you caught her or not. What did she have to lose, at this point? Her eyes then trailed down your jaw, to your neck. Fuck, she thought.

"You... you were upset that Dina kissed me," Ellie revealed, mainly to herself, since you were already fully aware. Her eyes met yours once again before she continued, "Because you..."

"Because I what?" you pushed, inching a tiny bit closer. The arousing tension was too obvious to mention. It was as if you both were just waiting for the green light. Neither of you knew how to express your feelings verbally, being used to internalizing them.

"You... you wished Dina was you?" Ellie raised an accusing eyebrow, nearly making you chuckle from her naturally raspy tone.

"More than that," you said before ending the conversation, wrapping a hand around the nape of her neck to pull her closer toward you, closing the gap. Her tongue instantly dipped into your mouth, nearly making you smirk against her lips. You could tell she had been waiting a while to kiss you.

Your lips were just as soft as Ellie had imagined, locking her lips with yours as she leaned into you. The more Ellie leaned in, the more you leaned back, allowing her to straddle your right thigh as your left leg hung off the couch.

Ellie used this to her advantage to grind her right knee against your clothed heat, her tongue still battling yours as you fought for dominance. You knew you were going to win, but you wanted to let her finish her moment. You didn't expect her to climb onto you at first, knowing fully well that she was a bottom in bed. You've had many personal conversations about your sex lives, and particular kinks that you liked.

Against your will, you learned that Cat was the one to give her head for the first time, and the fact alone left you jealous for days. You had no right to be, you knew that, but the thought still bothered you since you were so fond of her.

A breath fell from your lips and rolled onto Ellie's as her knee grazed your clothed clit, tightening your grip around her neck before pushing her forward. You used your grip on both her neck and on her hip to guide her down, easing her onto the cushions until she was flat against the couch, with you straddling her leg.

You released her lips from yours, beginning to trail wet love marks down her jaw, to her ear, to her neck. Soft breaths fell from Ellie's lips as you gently sucked her tender skin between your lips, making her eyes flutter closed as she relished in the feeling. Her hands found your waist, pulling your body closer to hers, which ultimately caused you to grind down on her thigh.

A groan fell from your lips, nearly causing a moan in return from Ellie. She could feel herself growing more and more soaked, her heat clenching around nothing as she anticipated your touch.

"You're freezing," you purred in her ear, having taken note of how cold her skin was against your warm lips. "D'you want to move to the bed?"

Ellie tilted her head back, lightly smiling at the feeling of your breath tickling her ear. She then looked up at you through her lashes, giving you a silent answer. You reconnected your lips with hers, pulling her to sit up before starting to take your shoes off. You then stood, reaching out for her hand, to which she quickly accepted.

It seemed like it took less than a second for the two of you to lie on your bed, immediately reconnecting your lips once more as you straddled her waist. Ellie's head rested comfortably against your pillows, her bun on the verge of falling out from how eager both of your movements were.

You decided to test the waters, gently biting her bottom lip as you pulled away from a kiss. In return, you earned a long intake of breath, Ellie's desperate eyes boring into yours as you smirked.

"You're impatient," you noted, sitting up as she continued to lie underneath you. Her bright eyes were looking up at you innocently, lips slightly parted, cheeks lightly tinted. She looked pitiful, just for you.

"I... fuck," she muttered, screwing her eyes shut as she gently bucked her hips against you. You raised a brow at the friction, tenderly pushing yourself against her to add pressure.

"What was that?" you pushed teasingly, trying to hide a cheeky smile. Ellie noticed it though, her long lashes fluttering closed as she rolled her eyes.

"I fucking need you, is that what you wanted to hear?" Ellie lightly snapped, and you gently placed your fists next to her ears, on the pillow that rested underneath her head. You stared down at her, watching her impatient expression slowly falter. She was unsure if she crossed a line, admitting something too soon. But she was wrong.

That's how you ended up with your tongue buried in her cunt, your hands tightly gripping her thighs to prevent her from squeezing them together. Her fingers were entangled in your hair, gripping the strands as tight as she could as you sunk your tongue between her sloppy folds, earning soft, whiney moans from her in response. And many curses.

"Fuck, fuck," she whimpered, grinding her hips against your face, coating your chin and cheeks in her wetness. Sure, she'd had a girl go down on her before, but it was nothing like this. The way Ellie's shoulders would shudder in pleasure with each drag of your tongue through her slit convinced her that you were the best she'd ever had.

A loud, pitiful moan would escape her throat each time your tongue dragged over her throbbing clit, which was begging to be touched. You slowly circled the tip your tongue around her swollen bundle of nerves before enclosing your lips around it, softly suckling.

"Holy shit," she cried, her free hand flying to the bedsheets to tug on, subconsciously attempting to pull her thighs closed, squeezing your head deeper into her cunt. "Just like that. Please do-n't... don't stop."

You watched as Ellie arched her back before she suddenly sat up, looking down at you as she used her free hand to stabilize herself, her other hand remaining entangled in your hair.

"Feels so good, babe," she praised weakly, the pet name making you gently flick your tongue against her clit. You suddenly released your grasp from her thighs, sliding your left arm over her lower abdomen. With your right hand, you eased a digit into her, continuing to give attention to her bundle of nerves as you did so.

"Oh my fucking god," Ellie grunted, followed by a string of moans as you slowly added a second digit. Ellie's lips quivered as she relished in the feeling of your fingers thrusting into her, the noises of her sopping cunt causing hungry groans to roll off your tongue and onto her clit, sending vibrations up her spine.

You released her swollen bud with a pop, cheekily smirking up at her as you began to fasten the pace of your fingers, the squelching noises growing louder with each thrust. You moved your left hand to grip her shoulder, since she was still sitting up, gently kissing her jaw, Ellie desperately tried to pull her legs closed, the pleasure quickly becoming overwhelming.

"No, no. Keep them open," you purred, guiding her legs wide open again, earning a desperate, loud moan in return.

"You sound so pretty. You hear that?" you purred, curling your fingers inside her to graze her spongy spot that drove her crazy, unbeknownst to you. A nearly pornographic moan erupted from Ellie's lips, her thighs flying shut as you thrusted your fingers relentlessly, the messy noises of her cunt bellowing throughout the room. You used your free hand to pull her thighs apart, quickly understanding that it was simply a reflex that she couldn't control, the pleasure overpowering her.

"Shit! I-I'm gonna come," Ellie whimpered, seeming embarrassed at how fast she approached her climax as her eyes screwed shut to avoid your gaze. You released your hand from her knee to grab her wrist, tenderly tightening your grip as she grew closer, causing her eyes to shoot back open and meet yours, making her fall for you all over again in one simple act.

"You're gonna come?" you cooed, wanting to assure her that your goal was to make her feel good, not make her last long. "That's okay. Come for me, baby."

Ellie's eyes screwed shut again as the overloaded pleasure eventually crashed down on her, her muscles stiffening as her orgasm blossomed through her core. Ellie's lips quivered as her jaw hung agape, short intakes of hair sounding from her throat as she struggled to catch her breath. Her lungs were completely knocked of air, not allowing a peep to escape her throat as her body began to tingle.

You began to slow the pace of your fingers, watching as her thighs trembled mercilessly. Upon removing your fingers from her wet folds, you gently straddled her once again to lean down and press gentle kisses on her cheeks, hearing gentle gasps from her as she recovered.

"You okay?" you whispered against her skin, softly running your fingers underneath the band of her sports bra, feeling just beneath the cotton. Ellie melted under your gentle, graceful touch, nodding her head in response as her eyes fluttered open, looking up as your lips traveled down her neck.

"How the fuck did you learn to do that?" Ellie questioned breathlessly, earning a cocky grin in response against the skin of her neck. Ellie playfully rolled her eyes from feeling your grin against her skin, her slim fingers finding your waist. You could feel Ellie's chest still heaving with heavy breaths, but not as rapid. "You're cocky."

"Am I?" you finally moved to meet her eyes, quirking a sarcastic brow. Ellie playfully hit your hip, her lips contorting into an sheepish smile. Your grip on her waist tightened before you flipped her so that you were in her previous spot with her straddling your hips.

Various birth marks and tiny freckles littered her thighs, barely noticeable in color. But you noticed, and she knew that. The way your fingers would caress them, traveling in specific patterns before she caught your attention again.

"Feel free to take a picture," she joked with an accusing tone, making you meet her eye contact. A small smile tugged the corners of her lips as she leaned down to capture your lips with hers, humming into the kiss in satisfaction. You suddenly pulled away from her lips, remembering that you had a specific toy that you often wished you could use, but never did.

"I want to try something," you said, easing her to sit up so you could slip out from underneath her. "Just lay down real quick."

Before anything else, you made sure to throw in a few logs of firewood into the furnace before making your way over to your closet beside your bed. You were only in your underwear, wanting to keep your place warm enough for Ellie's comfort.

She quirked a brow as she watched you rummage through your closet, catching a glimpse of your ass as you bent down. Your black cheeky underwear earned a sharp intake of breath from the auburn girl behind you as she stared, lightly squeezing her thighs together. You turned around to face her with a strap-on in hand, giving her a suggestive smile.

"Oh," Ellie's expression was surprised, but not distasteful. You knew it wasn't her first time using one, wanting to take up on the opportunity that was presented to you. She watched you as you strapped the simple harness, your eyes focused on it as you stepped back over to the bed. Ellie's expression quickly turned satisfied as she watched you climb back onto the bed, leaning closer to her until your lips met hers in a hungry kiss. You then laid back down, which made her eyes lightly widen, just enough for you to notice.

Your hands found their way to her waist, as she sat on her knees beside you, and you looked up at her with a gentle expression. "Come here, babe. I want to make you feel good."

"I've never done that," Ellie admitted, her freckled cheeks dusting a light pink after the words lightly escaped her lips. Her fingers began curling into the bedsheets, nervousness creeping up on her in fear that you would be disappointed with her inexperience. "I've never been on top."

Ellie looked nervous, but excited at the same time. You could tell that she genuinely wanted to try it, but that she didn't know what to expect. You were surprised that Ellie had never tried the position before, in a judgment-free way.

“Do you want me to teach you how?” you inquired genuinely, your fingers running down her hips to her indents where her thighs and lower stomach met. Ellie's tensed shoulders released as she nodded, taking it upon herself to climb onto you, the silicone toy gently resting against her stomach as she sat on your upper thighs.

Her eagerness surprised you, mainly because she had been ready for you the whole time. Despite already having one release, and not being touched for a short while, you could still see the glistening of tears finding their way down her legs as she straddled your upper thighs.

"I'll take care of you, okay?" you assured her, your fingers wrapping around the silicone as your left hand found its way to her right hip, helping her ease herself up to hover over the tip. Ellie nodded in response, her eyes falling from yours to the tip, watching it slowly disappear as you eased her down.

A soft whine escaped Ellie's throat as her eyes fluttered closed, feeling herself stretch around what she considered you. You were making her feel this good, and she wanted to consider it that. She had to admit that being on top definitely felt foreign, especially since she had not been with anyone for a while beforehand. She could not deny how good it felt.

Ellie was only halfway down the shaft before you took it upon yourself to begin lifting her up, using both hands on her hips to move her. She was quickly growing accustomed to the feeling as it turned from foreign to euphoric, tilting her head back as she gripped onto your wrists.

"Feel good? Hm?" you cooed, wanting to make sure that she was feeling nothing other than pleasure. It was your main goal.

"Yes," Ellie quickly replied, her grasp on your wrists tightening as her nails began to make crescent indents into your skin. You watched her tattoo flex as she did so, her grip never releasing as you began to slowly fasten your pace, lifting and easing her down on you. "F-fuck, yes. Feels s'good."

You began to feel her gaining her own pace with you, lifting herself up before you would push her back down, gently bucking your hips to aim deeper. Her eyes were screwed shut, the pleasure causing whiney, careless moans to erupt from her lips.

"Good girl," you purred as she lifted herself, earning a whiney moan in return. Her movements were growing less rigid, making a smile tug the corners of your lips.

"You got it, baby," you praised, your grip on her waist slowly releasing as she began to find her own pace. You continued to hold her hips, though, since you couldn't exactly pull them away from her grip on your wrists. "Just like that."

Ellie's moans were growing louder as you watched the silicone disappear into her, a white ring forming at the end from her slick as she repeatedly sunk down on you. Not only that, but the squelching of her cunt and the loud slapping of her ass landing on your thighs were just as loud and clear.

You looked back up at her, seeing her struggling to keep her hooded eyes open as she grinded her hips into yours. Her eyes never left yours, you moaning along with her not only to enhance her pleasure but to enhance your own. The sight alone was all you needed.

"Want my help, pretty girl?" you hummed, looking up at her. Ellie started to slow her movements, nodding in response. Her muscles were growing tired, not being used to the constant work of being on top.

You began grinding upwards, eventually tightening your grip on her hips once again to halt her movements, completely holding her still as you bucked your hips up, fucking her from underneath. Ellie squeaked in surprise, but it quickly melted into a string of moans as she looked down, watching the way her thighs slapped against yours, the way you gripped her hips, it was all overwhelming.

"Oh, oh, fuck," she breathed and released her grip from your wrists to lean forward, hovering over you. Since she let go of your wrists, you took the opportunity to slip your fingers underneath her sports bra to push it up, exposing her breasts to you.

You could see the rise in her sensitive peaks after being expose to the cooler air of the room, leaning up to capture one of them into your mouth, softly suckling on it. Ellie whined in response, wrapping her fingers around the back of your neck to hold your against her. Her focus was soon lost, the only thing on her mind being the immense pleasure you were giving her, her hooded eyes fluttering closed.

Ellie could feel the knot within her lower stomach beginning to ravel itself once again, the coil tightening more and more as you thrusted into her. She released her grip from you, pulling you away from her breast to catch your lips into a wet kiss, dirty moans getting pushed down your throat. You didn't expect Ellie to be so verbal, let alone loud, in bed, but you weren't complaining. It was like music to your ears.

"Is my girl close?" you whispered against her lips, beginning to lose your breath as you leaned back down to buck your hips up. Ellie nodded, her eyebrows furrowing enough to crease the skin between them as she felt herself nearing her release.

You used your grip on her hips to flip her onto her back, hovering over her. Ellie gasped in surprise before bellowing a pitiful cry as you thrusted your hips into hers, making her throw her head back against the pillows.

"F-fuck! Harder, p-please!" Ellie nearly sobbed in between thrusts, the pressure knocking the wind out of her lungs for short periods. Her hands quickly found their way on your back, her short nails digging into your skin as she arched her back, allowing you to hit at a deeper angle.

"I-I'm gonna come, I'm gonna cum!" Ellie repeated desperately before you slammed your lips onto hers, allowing her to melt under your touch as her second orgasm washed over her, her body jolting just as it hit her.

"God, you're so beautiful," you murmured against her lips, continuing to thrust at a gentle your pace until Ellie's hand flailed to your hip, "Fuck, fuck. I c-can't--"

"It's okay. It's okay," you soothed as you instantly slowed your movements to a halt, your breath hitting her lips before you gave her a reassuring kiss. You continued to press gentle kisses on her cheeks before pulling away to remove the harness from yourself, leaving Ellie for a swift moment. Based off the tiny, pitiful noises that rolled off her lips and onto yours, you could tell that you had taken a lot, if not all, of her energy. "Are you tired, babe?"

Babe. Ellie wasn't sure if you were only saying that because of what had just happened, or if you genuinely wanted to be something. Ellie wouldn't be opposed if your relationship was solidified by consummation, clearly, but she couldn't help but wonder.

"A little bit," Ellie sheepishly admitted as she continued to catch her breath, unintentionally looking up at you with doe eyes as you pulled the harness off your frame, climbing back onto the bed.

"You can stay here," you replied, a gentle smile tugging the corners of your lips as you tenderly pulled her sports bra back down her chest for her. Ellie reciprocated the smile, to which made yours stronger as her cheeks burned from your affectionate act. You lightly chuckled to yourself, beginning to pull yourself away from her to add more firewood to the furnace, but she quickly wrapped her arms around your waist to pull you back down to hover over her. "Hey, wait."

You looked down at her, your hands on the bed on the sides of her head to stabilize yourself as you scanned her face, waiting for her to continue. Ellie didn't want to hold off on getting an answer, not wanting to overthink the situation for the rest of the night.

"I know this is... the worst fucking time, but... I really do like you, and I really don't want us to... I don't know," Ellie began to ramble, moving her hands along with her words. "I don't want us to awkwardly go our separate ways tomorrow..."

"Who said we had to?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at her. You had made your feelings clear, but not verbally, so you understood why she thought such things. You leaned back down, pressing your lips onto hers into a full kiss, holding both sides of her face as you straddled her. You then pulled away, looking down at her beautifully freckled face. "I really like you too, okay? Don't worry about that. I'm jus' glad I could finally tell you."

Ellie's cheeks burned a light pink as you tucked lose strands of her hair behind her ear, the tint flowing through her face before lightly kissing the tip of her nose.

"Let me add more firewood, and then we can talk more. Deal?" you asked with a smile.

"Deal."

a/n: if you made it this far, thank you for reading! feel free to send requests and/or feedback, everything is appreciated! ೃ⁀➷

[druidrot]

Okay 1 and 13 from the sultry prompts list feel VERY Gale to me, if that inspires you at all!

Your honor, based on provided evidence the jury has come to the conclusion that Gale Dekarios is indeed guilty of being a munch. Not actual smut but like pretty damn suggestive. It borders on it. It’s dirty. Don’t talk to me 😭😭

Real talk I’m sorry this has sat in my drafts for so long. Anon, you deserve better but work has been draining lately and tonight for some reason was the night my mind decided to work. Anyways muah i love u thank u for requesting, i hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Gale Dekarios x Reader

Prompts:

1. A kiss to the thigh

13. You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me.

Rating: Explicit - MDNI

warnings: foreplay, like lots of it. this came out a lil worship-y but gale is a fucking loser and I’m so weak to that shit. i say that with the most love but 😭😭. allusions to good ole’ cunillingus babey!

unsure of the word count

Gale takes his time tonight.

There is no urgency in his actions, no desperation–just pure, unadulterated adoration. His hands are gentle against your skin, soft, like too much pressure might shatter you like glass. He is resolute though, driven, unyielding in the face of his desire for you. He knows exactly how to touch you; he knows exactly where to touch you. It's like your body was made to be known by him, to be loved by him.

You sit comfortably in the big armchair he has nestled in his study, legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. He is kneeled before you like a man devoted; like a man pious, besotted and yearning for you . He looks so very hungry when he turns his gaze up to meet yours, though his smile is soft, beckoning, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You answer his smile with one of your own, smoothing a hand through his hair as he begins to creep his hands under your dressing gown.

"I will never tire of this," he murmurs, reverent, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your knee. "I will always be starved for you, my star. I will never have enough; there will never be enough to satiate the hunger you inspire.”

You can’t help the silly, lovesick grin that pulls at your lips. To you, he is breathtaking in his want for you, unabashed and proud. You love the way he loves you, so fully, so complete, like this is what the two of you were made to do together. It is intense, all-encompassing, makes your insides twist and turn.

“You spoil me rotten,” you whisper, all sweet smile laced with heavy-handed desire. “I burn for you, Mr. Dekarios. You make me ache.”

He offers a punched-out sound, a chuckle, and his molten eyes darken in the heat of his want. His kisses grow heavy, then, hot where they land on your skin, teasing where they trail up and up and up…

“You are my renewal and ruin all at once,” he breathes, sticky with need. “I am lost to you, my darling. Eternally lost to you.”

You mewl, tangling your fingers in his chestnut hair. “Show me, my love. Show me how you love me.”

He grins a wickedly handsome smile, pressing another hard kiss to the soft flesh of your thigh. He bites down gently, teasingly, basking in the sultry moan that rumbles in your chest.

“Gale,” you urge, pleadingly. “Let me see how lost you are. Let me see what I do to you.”

He squeezes the flesh of your opposite thigh, tongue laving over the little indents his teeth left in your skin. His eyes are sharp, heavy with lust, and you think you might drown in their depths forever.

“How desperate you are,” he teases, hands now moving to push the fabric at your hips up higher and higher. You can only sink further into his touch as his intentions become clear.

“You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me,” he muses, eyes locked on your pleading gaze. “I sometimes forget how eager you are to have me. But no matter, my star. I will happily oblige your desire to be tasted.”

You can only gasp, body pliant, mind foggy, already drunk on him as you surrender to the heat of his mouth.

[archie-sunshine]

Hello! Hope you’re having a good day/night! Recently I’ve been in a “dratchrod save me..” mood and I just adore the way you draw the three of them!

I’m offering my little hc to you about them … Ratchet has that “working late stupid hours” on accident so he’s usually late to the recharge cuddling. It’s ok tho bc his two husbands manage to leave a good sized Ratchet dent in between them while still being completely tangled up together purring loud as hell. They cuddle like three little kittens to me it’s so hard to explain but I hope I did my best LOL

YOURE SO RIGHT!! I imagine it is truly like a magnetic pull that ratchet has on those two. it takes less than a minute for them to mush their entire bodies against him.

[forgeofthenine]

This is a request @wisteria-songs sent in! As the ask has two requests I'll be posting the ask with the second request. Hopefully everyone enjoys, and you can thank Wisteria for being the push I needed to write for Rolan! :)

Bachelors finding a sketchbook with drawings of them

Dammon

Dammon tries to never pry into things you don't want to share

He's an open book but he understands wanting to keep some things to yourself

He knows you sketch but if you decide not to share your art it's not a big deal to him

The way he'd find your sketchbook is while cleaning your shared room, picking up a stack of clutter it happens to be on top of

As it lands on its spine, the only thing it can do is open to reveal sketches filling the pages with the now blushing blacksmith

Dammons quick to close it and return it to you, bashfully admitting he saw some pictures of himself

He's so flattered, and lets you know how talented he thinks you are

Honestly, Dammon would be absolutely over the moon if you decided to show him some of your drawings

Zevlor

Another man that tries to let you have your privacy

Zevlor is definitely curious about what it is you always seem to be drawing, but if you tell him it's a secret then he'll respect it

Though, if you do show him you'll see an especially flustered tiefling, face completely flushed with his tail near wagging behind him

If you don't show him, he'd likely find you curled up in his little office, asleep with a half finished sketch of him on your lap

He can see the other page full of depictions of him and it makes him blush furiously

You'll wake up the next morning tucked into bed with the sketchbook sitting safely beside the bed

Zevlor will tell you that he closed up your book but did see a few of the pictures, and you can bet he's going to compliment you on them too

He loves getting to see how talented you are, and would love for you to share your work with him

Another thing Zevlor loves is the thought of a whole notebook of sketches showing how much you love him back

Rolan

This man is such a tease

He'll constantly be teasing you and making snarky remarks about your 'oh so secret sketchbook'

One thing he won't do is purposefully go through it

But, a tired Rolan is a careless Rolan

It's late, been a busy day, and with how close your sketchbook is to his spellbooks it's an easy mistake to make

He idly flicks through a couple pages before it actually registers what he's looking at

Then, he drops the book like it's burnt him, cheeks overtaken with a rosy blush as he carefully tucks it away

The thought of it is on his mind all night though, the excitement of seeing your hidden affections for him

You'll know the next day that he read it purely because he's terrible at hiding things from you

Rolans eyes are shifting, his tail can't stay still, when he looks at you he flushes like a schoolboy with a crush

It's when you pull out your sketchbook that an apology bursts from him

Honestly, it's so adorable it's hard not to laugh

[nicholasluvbot]

LOVE 119 !

SYNOPSIS — euijoo as your college boyfriend

GENRE — fluff, fluff, fluff >_<

NOTE — unrelated title but lets goo. and i watched this reel on ig and euijoo just looked so college boyfriend coded 😭 like i looked at nicholas only around twenty times ej had my whole attention

BACK TO MASTERLIST

• the softest boy ever </3

• used to be so shy when you two started dating with his soft deep voice and he would always talk to you so gently

• but a menace once he gets comfortable around you (just a little bit tho)

• teases you and playfights most of the time, like its his favorite thing to do

• he says something something silly and you try to get annoyed but just end up laughing because of how adorable he is

• but can also be very mature and gentle and understanding when he needs to be

• you always look forward to homework dates with him because you get work done and also get to spend time with him

• and explains stuff gently and patiently whenever you're having a hard time trying to understand something without making you feel stupid

• loves going on late night walks with you around campus, especially when both of you have been busy with classes all day and haven't talked much, talking about nothing and everything with your fingers interlocked as his his thumb gently draws circles on the back of your hand

• sneaks into your dorm when he can't sleep and needs cuddles. and doesn't leave until he gets his cuddles and a few kisses

• has almost got caught alot of times but still sneaks in because "his girlfriend is more important than the stupid rules"

• sometimes just sneaks in to give you a goodnight hug and kiss

• on some nights, you both sneak out for ramen dates and have been up all night talking on the banks of han river at many instances

• not very big on pda but when its just the two of you he turns into a big clingy puppy

• turns crimson whenever you peck his cheek or lips in front of his friends knowing that they're going to make fun of him for being a lovesick idiot but he doesn't mind at all cause he loves and adores you sm <3

• makes sure that you eat well all the time especially during exam season cause he knows you tend to get stressed and skip meals

• will spoon feed you while making airplanes if you're feeling tired or sleepy

• the sweetest bf ever and you couldn't ask for anything better <33

[aroaceleovaldez]

Do you have any fun Piper headcanons?

BOY DO I

She wears velcro shoes. they're the gaudiest, tackiest looking ones she could find that fit her from the kid's section. I personally usually like to give her Hello Kitty ones. She wears them cause they're fun and colorful and also ADHD causes problems with fine motor control which can make it hard to tie shoelaces, and the bright colors are great for sensory stuff, so colorful kid's velcro sneakers it is. This is so important to me.

Hair ties! I like to give her two braids down the side of her face tied off with big chunky bright hair ties. My hc with that is that she braids her hair as a stim, and those are just the easiest chunks of hair to braid and unbraid idly (source: that was one of my stims back when i had long hair), plus probably chews on them as another stim (she needs a chew necklace real bad she'll get one eventually). The hair ties being bright colors is once again sensory stimulation from bright colored clothing/accessories go brrr, they bonus as an extra fidget, and also she adores tacky/gaudy stuff and anti-fashion so they go right in with her aesthetic (or lack-there-of).

Okay so yknow how everybody started drawing Piper with beaded earrings. I disagree with the style of earrings everybody gives her - most people go with giving her BIG dangly beaded earrings. I don't think she's a big earrings person, or particularly a dangly earrings person, or at least not a "stylish" big earrings person. I DO however think she'd 100% adore beaded fandom earrings, like these hello kitty ones, or these Kiki's Delivery Service ones.

In general i think she owns so much youtuber merch. It is a solid staple of her wardrobe. The sillier and stupider, the better. She DEFINITELY has the GMM "Everybody knows i love lesbians" merch. She is the target demographic of that ridiculous redbubble merch stuff that's like, a throw blanket that's a collage of insert-youtuber-here's face. Also just general fandom merch. Again, the more ridiculous the better. She hates fashion you KNOW she's mix-and-matching cosplay pieces at least half out of spite just for fun.

She also 100% buys jackbox Tee-KO tshirts and has a whole collection of them.

Because I like giving Piper at least some sense of "I know people who exist outside of the main cast of protagonists" (that is severely lacking in HoO) i like to hc that Shel is an old childhood friend of hers that was like neighbors with her grandpa or something similar, so whenever Piper would visit they would hang out. When Piper moves to Oklahoma they start hanging out again and start dating.

She has very eclectic music tastes. When she was younger it was mostly she hated everything "popular" out of principle but as she got older it's just anything, though a general lean for stuff a la 2000s top hits, cause she is not immune to nostalgia. or late 2000s emo.

Contrary to popular fanon I don't hc that Piper and Leo were "true" friends pre-Hera memory shake-up. I imagine they had one of those school alliances you sometimes make where you see each other every day and you prefer working with them during class versus whoever else but you know like all of 4 things about them including their name and you've never hung out outside of class before. Immediately after their TLH quest they shift to more of a "we are in a new environment (hell of a situation with ADHD/autism) full of strangers (hell. hell on earth) but we know who each other are and are already familiar with one another so. CAMARADERIE." and by the end of the Argo II quest it's a "okay we're ACTUALLY proper friends now." They're not each other's best friends (Piper's is Annabeth and Leo's is Hazel) but they have a VERY strong unique bond of "we've been through this with each other from the beginning, since before all this demigod stuff."

Piper is very "queer label fuckery" to me. She'd LOVE defying boxes and just messing around with all of that. She's digging deep to find niche labels and using atypical combos and it's a really great identity sandbox for her. Also messing around with gendered language in a similar manner.

I don't care what canon says she and Drew eventually warm up to each other and become good siblings to me. Piper unlearns her internalized misogyny and Drew unlearns some of her toxic femininity and they learn to appreciate each other's perspectives - Drew eventually comes to find Piper's perspectives on fashion and the entertainment industry fascinating and Piper respects how outspoken and self-advocating Drew is. They get really into DIY fashion projects together - Piper's goal is to get Drew hooked on alt fashion and it's working.

[wiltkingart]

Do you have any advice on how 2 not overwork a drawing? Over-detailing my art (to the detriment of the final result) is a big weakness of mine, and ive been working on it lately, but simplifying my art is way harder than I thought itd be. I keep getting stuck in a mentality that less detail = less effort, even though all my struggling should prove that isnt true lol. & I almost always like my simpler drawings better, even though that makes me feel kinda lazy…as long as it’s fun tho, right? [1/2]

I’m asking here bc one of the things I adore about your work is how confident and striking your paintings feel. I really admire the way colors and shape language interact in your art…I always want to keep looking to see what I can find hidden in the details, but they don’t take away from the main focus of the image. How do you manage to strike that balance? [2/2] (sorry for the long question lol)

honestly this is still something i struggle with at times! but some things that have helped me are:

- identifying which parts i tend to overwork the most. for me thats faces so i have made it a conscious habit to render faces last. that way i can match my level of face rendering to the rest of the piece.

- working on all parts of the painting at once. some artists are able to work on a painting from section to section. this is not me, regardless of detail level. jumping around all over the place keeps me from focusing too hard on one section above others. i even take this one step further by working on 2+ paintings simultaneously but there is something wrong with me for this one i'll admit.

- staying zoomed out for as long i can. this goes in hand with the previous point but when you're zoomed out its easier to lay down the biggest/primary color blocks without the temptation to detail. once the main color blocks are nicely balanced its easier to pick out a few points of interest to add spots of detail to, and restrain myself to them. (easier said than done! but i try!)

- getting comfortable with backtracking / deleting overworked sections and layers. this might seem scary but this has saved my ass more times than you might think. i always save a version of my drawings before i merge everything / start rending so i can always copy over earlier sections if needed.

- cold turkey removing details from the equation for a while. i did this more from necessity than choice, because i was struggling with my health a few years back and had zero energy to sink into art for long hours. but looking on the bright side it helped me realize what details are/aren't necessary and how to build my features from big -> small. this progression of my patho art shows pretty well how i introduced details back into my work over time.

but yeah! sometimes i do still find myself creeping a little too close to overwork territory for comfort, even with all these safeguards in place. in that case i have to accept that not every piece i put out will be my 'best' and that perfection has no place in art. that's not the point of it!

simplifying forms isn't easy, the same way abstract art isn't lazy. but with all things it can be learned with enough practice. and if you decide at the end of it all that you still like drawing a lot details, it might be a matter of readjusting how / where you implement them. best of luck <3

[upsidedownwithsteve]

hello hello!! may I please request steve n hawkins where he’s a little bit more overprotective over her with billy—and she actually just lets him be? haha hope that makes sense and thank you so much for sharing your work!!

“Has Hargrove been buggin’ you again?”

Steve slung a leg over the bench, sliding in beside you. He set you with a soft look, even though his brows were furrowed. Worried. His hand reached out to touch, fingers skimming underneath your T-shirt to graze at your waist.

You thought about lying. You didn’t want to upset him, but you’d told Robin, a frustrated complaint late last night before bed ‘cause Billy wouldn’t shut up after Jason got sick and Murray set him on schedule with you.

“Princess…”

Robin must’ve told Steve. You sighed, not annoyed, but tired. Pushing away your lunch, you glanced across the table at Nancy who nodded in understanding. She murmured a goodbye and went off in search for trouble to break up, making a beeline for Dustin Henderson’s table, ‘cause Eddie (who was supposed to be on lunch duty) was too busy talking to the new girl.

Steve squeezed at your hip, waiting for an answer. You shrugged, your smile weak as a little defeated, ‘cause you didn’t want Steve to see how much the other boy was bothering you. As much as the bloody and rugged look suited your boyfriend, the deduction in wages wasn’t ideal, not when you were both saving up for a place together.

“When isn’t he?” You tried to joke, but Steve’s frown furrowed deeper. “Babe, it’s fine. It’s Billy. He’s… Billy.”

But Steve didn’t let it go. He saw the downturn of your lips, the way you leaned into his touch for comfort. “What’s he been saying?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“You don’t want to know.” It’s like you could read his mind. The corner of Steve’s lips ticked up. “You’d push him in the lake or something stupid.”

Steve leaned in, chin hooked on your shoulder, nose nudging at your cheek, the closet he’d get to giving you a kiss with all the kids around. “That sounds pretty tame,” he commented.

“You wouldn’t let him back up,” you added, smiling.

Steve grinned, his hand bumping up the side of your ribs, ghosting too close to the band of your bra and you squirmed, shooting him a look that said, ‘behave.’

“You’ll tell me, though?” Steve asked, voice dropping to a low murmur, thumb soothing over the skin on your stomach. You turned into him, nose nudging his and you knew you would only be granted seconds of the closeness before some kid threw food at you both. “You’ll let me know if he takes it too far?”

You nodded, smiling, eyes drooping prettily, that soft, fond way that Steve fucking adored, ‘cause you only did it for him.

And then—

The mess hall doors slammed hard enough against the walls that several kids jumped. And rightfully so. Billy strolled in, sunglasses still on and wearing a denim jacket instead of his staff T-shirt. He bypassed Eddie who rolled his eyes at him, stole a slice of pizza from Mike Wheeler’s page and walked right up to where you and Steve were sitting.

Billy tore off a piece of the crust, grinning at you as he chewed and he looked ready to say something, something lewd, especially for Steve to hear. You braced yourself, eyes bored looking as you stared back at him, chin lifted. But before Billy could say a word, Steve cut him off, pulling you closer into the space between his legs as he did.

“Say one more word to my girl, Hargrove, and I’ll make sure Murray finds a reason to search your cabin again.”

Billy stared, eyes narrowed but still smiling. He was pissed off, you could tell. So could Steve, but the boy hid it with sardonic amusement.

“Is that right? Feelin’ like a big boy with your girl beside you, huh?

From the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie move closer, weaving between tables without drawing the kids attention. Steve met his gaze, eyes flicking from Billy’s just enough to nod at his friend. ‘Wait’, it said, ‘it’s fine.’

Eddie stilled.

Steve turned back to Billy, shrugging as he lay a wide, warm palm on your bare thigh. It felt protective, not possessive.

“Would be weird if he found some snow in July, wouldn’t it?” Steve shot him a look of faux confusion, but he tapped at his nose knowingly. 

Billy glared. But he took a step back, throwing his half eaten pizza on top of your lunch tray. 

“Whatever, Harrington.”

[peterdarlingg]

Could you write tom being really affectionate towards reader? Never really had that :( I got really used to the bare minimum

Admiration and Adoration

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom’s adoration and affection towards you is everything.

Warnings: none, besides maybe a hint of angst if you squint? proof read this only once so…sorry for any typos or mistakes. Bad ending, sorry didn’t know how to end this.

A/n: Hi anon so sorry this is so late, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless, here’s a lil blurb sorry it’s a bit short, been having a huge writers block and just trouble sitting down and focusing on anything has been hard. any and all feedback is appreciated. (Wheather asks, reply’s or reblogs) again all enjoy

You always thought Tom was an affectionate person. His love language was touch. Always wanting to shower you with love.

Like holding your hand at any and all times, or just having his hand protectively behind your back when you’re out on a date.

Complimenting you on said date. “You look beautiful darling,” he’d say, eyes looking at you with complete adoration.

Squeezing your hand three times to silently tell you he loves you.

Or holding you close and having a full blown cuddle session when you’re down. “Do you want to talk about it?” He’d asked while rubbing his hand up and down your back, gently resting his forehead against yours.

“No,” you’d said softy tucking your face in the crook of his neck. “Okay, I can just hold you,” he’d whispered, kissing your temple.

He’d always calm you down with his touch and soothing voice when you’re stressed.

“Everything is going wrong and I don’t know what to do,” you huffed quickly, panicking and pacing around the room about happened at work that day.

“Shh, love it’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” he cooed enveloping you gently into a big soft cuddle.

“I don’t know what to do, I don’t kn-“

“shhh, just breathe darling it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered to you cutting off your cries.

“Shh, just breathe, relax,” he softly said putting your head to his chest, you listing to his calm heartbeat and focusing on chest moving up and down steadily. “That’s it, love” he whispered drawing random shapes on your back gently.

You’d get back late from a hard working day knocked out, and ready for bed, if you’re lucky, Tom would be waiting for you in bed all ready to cuddle you to sleep.

Sometimes he’d even help you get ready for bed or take your makeup off or do you skincare routine if you’re too tried.

“I’m so tired, I’m seriously thinking about just going to sleep like this,” you mumbled all sprawled out on the bed like a starfish, clothes on and everything.

“Don’t worry, love, you stay here okay?” “Don’t have to tell me twice,” you mumbled already half asleep.

A minute later you feel something cold on your face just as you’re about to fall asleep. You

open your eyes to see Tom sitting on the edge of the bed with your makeup wipes in his hand. He’d then proceed to help you change and dressing you in your pjs.

And you’d fall asleep legs tangled and head on his shoulder with his arms tight around your waist. So yeah you wouldn’t change a thing.

[shmothman]

Alloy

Al•loy (noun): a mixture between two or more metallic elements, especially to give greater strength or resistance to corrosion.  (Just like titanium, two people can be stronger together, too.)

Vash the Stampede x Reader 829 words Rated G Tags: pre-relationship, mutual pining, fluff, pride and prejudice hand flex

“Vash,” you say, chewing on your lip; you’re not sure if you should even ask this, but your curiosity’s just too great.

He looks up at you, seated beside you before the fire. “Hm?”

“Your arm,” you say. “It’s lost tech, isn’t it?” That much is obvious, but it’s a necessary first question; a prelude to what you really want to ask.

He looks down at his left arm, flexes his hand. His voice is soft when he says, “yes.”

“Could I… look at it?” you ask, and then quickly append: “it’s okay if you don’t want me to!”

It’s long past sunsdown now, and your sleeping bag is wrapped around your shoulders as the fire you had built earlier finally dies down. Most of your companions are already tucked in their own sleeping bags by now, and there’s no one to overhear your quiet conversation, the soft intimacy of Vash sitting so near you, his thigh almost touching yours.

“Oh,” he says, sounding somewhat bashful. “Um, if you wanna?” He holds out his hand to you, his face lit in the soft orange glow of the fire, his bright blue eyes not meeting yours.

You wish your heart wasn’t hammering quite so hard. “You sure?”

He nods, gives a small hum of affirmation, and gingerly, you take his hand in your own. 

With his gloves and coat, sometimes you forget that his arm is prosthetic; he moves it so naturally, so carefully, that you didn’t even know until you were close to him. You know that it’s been a part of him for a long time now, though you’ve never asked the specifics, and he’s never offered. But now, he’s allowing you a closer look, and as you run your fingertips over the joints of it, you hear him draw in a breath.

You’re too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “It’s incredible,” you say. Machinery fine enough for the motor control he has is a feat of engineering that you doubt anyone alive today could replicate; the way it actually connects to his nerves by way of the port in his upper arm.

He only gives a nervous laugh. 

“Do you… feel it? Or can you just move it?”

“A little bit,” he says softly, his voice very gentle. You risk a look at his face, and his gaze is steadily locked on the way you trace his fingers with your own, run your thumb over the joint where the palm of it connects with the wrist. “Not pain, though. I can feel pressure; enough to move it and hold things, but not much more.”

You ignore the shiver that works its way up your spine at the way his voice sounds, at the way the metal—that strange, lost alloy—feels so cool in your hand. “Can you feel this?”

He nods. “Only a little. Like a really soft touch.”

You wonder if he would be able to feel it if you brushed your lips across his knuckles, or pressed them to the tips of his fingers. 

You’re not brave enough to try.

The fire’s burning down to embers now, and it’s getting colder; the metal of his hand growing cold, too. When you shiver and draw your sleeping bag tighter around your shoulders, Vash smiles gently. “You should get some sleep,” he says. 

He’s right, it’s late—but you’d give anything to stay by the fire with him, to keep up this excuse to touch him in any small way. But the desert night is cold, and you can’t ask him to keep you warm, no matter how much you wish you could, so you only smile softly and nod.

“You too,” you say, though you know he always stays up later than you—you’ve seen him disappear, night after night, and sometimes you catch him watching the stars.

You wonder what he thinks about, those long nights.

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to know.

Letting go of his hand, you stand. “Goodnight, Vash,” you say, and you hope that he can hear what’s in your voice—the love there, the care, the adoration. One more smile thrown his way, and then you’re heading off to lay your sleeping bag down, to slip inside and curl up and try not to think too hard about his hand in your own.

---

As he watches you join your companions in sleep, Vash lets out a soft sigh and flexes his hand. What he wouldn’t give to be able to touch you like that all the time, to take your hand in his right, to actually feel your warmth. Even with his prosthetic, your gentle tracing of his fingers sent shivers up his spine; he can only imagine what it would be like with the other. And imagine he does, as he watches the embers die down, only the coals glowing a soft red, now. 

But you deserve more than the danger that follows him… if only he could gather the courage to leave.

[soufcakmistress]

new love on the near northside

A/N: haters that ruin the fun will get blessed out and blocked! find someone else to play with, tysm :) this is for all the sydcarmy truthers like me who’ve been in a spiral for two years

Pairing: Sydney Adamu x Carmen Berzatto

“All right chefs, we need to fire four prime ribs, two lobster risottos, and four cream puffs!”

“Yes, Chef!”

“Marcus, 86 the mascarpone for the cherry tart on 20!”

“Heard, chef!”

“Okay I need to see hands!”

The waitstaff gingerly grab the plated dishes from the final station, while Carmy is gently yet firmly reminding them not to smudge the plates as they’re being taken to their respective tables. Dinner service is in an awesome groove right now and Syd is feeling confident tonight. She’s still riding on a high from the last food critic that visited from the Chicago Tribune, who raved over her braised short rib and orzo pasta. There are also other reasons for Syd’s good mood.

“Open your legs, Syd..”

Syd shudders, takes three deep breaths and continues to fire off orders from the expo. The Bear has been packed almost every single night for three weeks. They don’t have much of a waitlist yet, but word of mouth moves quickly in Chicago and the front of house are noticing some repeat customers already.

Carmy joined Syd at the expo, and she can still pick up the scent of his cologne even in the midst of garlic, heavy cream and raw seafood. If she even peeks at him, she’ll lose her train of thought, and that’s the last thing the team needs right now. After having to let go of Josh after his unfortunate episode, her sous Tina has been pulling double time, covering both stations like a champ. She makes a mental note to give her an unbelievable gift and some love this weekend. “How are we doing, Chef? We cool?”

His eyes are so crystal clear and she recollects how he stares through her when they….oh fuck. “Yes, Chef. Runners are getting everything out in a timely manner, and we are turning these tables around. You?”

“Carmy, Carmy, yes—oh!”

Carmy licks and bites his lips and smirks. “Yes Chef. You’re the captain of this ship.” He squeezes her shoulder and goes back to his station as their boucher, Daniela checks in with Carmy about the fat trimmings for their beef.

Fak, Richie and Sweeps were holding down the front since Nat is on maternity leave. Carmy keeps a wallet size photo of his brand new nephew at his station, looking occasionally with a smile. Forty five more minutes before dinner service is over and Syd can finally go puke out back. “Chefs, we’re almost in the clear! Let’s keep up the momentum and sense of urgency!”

“Yes, Chef!”

Every dish is gorgeous. So many painstaking hours reworking the menu. Chaos menu, thoughtful chaos menu, back to chaos menu again. Reviewing and poring over Carmy’s intricate drawings, all the late night sessions, so much money spent on ingredients—it was enough to make Syd’s head spin. Hence why, almost a month since The Bear opened she’s still subsisting on a diet of Tums and Pepto.

She’s eternally grateful for her partners. Nat and Cicero have saved all their asses more times than they can count. Cicero is a hard ass but he adores Carmy and Sugar and has grown to love Syd as well. And of course, the best chef she’s ever had the privilege of working beside is her executive chef, business partner, best friend and now lover.

“Look at you. You’re so wet baby. Fuck—”

~

They’ve managed to keep their love affair under wraps for this long. It’s a struggle not to be able to touch each other when they’re working. Tina and Marcus are too perceptive; they would be found out immediately. Still, Sydney feels like a giddy school girl whenever Carmy corners her in the office as they open the restaurant every morning—both of his hands by her sides keeping her close. He’s so incredibly sexy without even trying and she still gets shy sometimes. He has to pull her chin from her shoulder and make her look at him.

“Don’t run away from me. You know I won’t let you..” And those ocean blue eyes of his again….and his lips are feather light on top of hers. Her knees are ready to buckle and Carmy sensed as much, so he pulls her close to the hardness of his chest and stomach to keep her standing.

She loves how his stubble feels on her chin and cheeks, especially when he drags his mouth down her jaw and lightly sucks on her neck. “Carm, Carm, Carm, oh my god, don’t! If they see me with a hickey when I didn’t have one yesterday, how do I explain that?” Her face is hurting, she’s cheesing so hard.

One hand slides up her chef whites, slipping under her camisole and his agile fingers pinch her nipple while his tongue circles her earlobe. Syd’s learned that Carmy is insatiable. For someone to not be as experienced as he claims—his hands, lips, tongue…always seem to go exactly where she needs them to. “I can’t help it, Chef. You’re just so damn beautiful.”

Syd’s hands roam all over his thick biceps and eventually land in the bushy mess atop his head. Their tongues lave and suck on each other’s and their moans can’t be held back any longer. Carmy pulls her leg up to his hip while he grips her braids, until he hears Marcus and Sweeps come through the back door. They separate quickly and get themselves together. Lusty gazes linger between them and they’re both aching between their legs. Carmy is as red as a beet, and Syd’s lips are swollen from his kisses and nipping. “Right, thank you chef.” Syd walks out first awkwardly with wobbly legs that make Carmy chuckle.

~

Dinner service is over—the kitchen has been scrubbed down, trash taken out, perishables have been stocked away in the lowboys and walk-in, and the back of house staff has skated out. It’s just Carmen and Sydney, in their brand new restaurant. “I’m beat. You got all your stuff right?”

Syd has an overnight bag with everything she needs for a weekend with her babe. “Yes, I do! Are you..ready to go?” Carmy grabs the weekend bag along with her hand and they walk in tandem to his car.

Carmy has been seeing a therapist in addition to the Al-anon meetings and Sydney can tell a difference already. He’s slower to rant and rave and owns up to his mistakes. More eager to hear people out. She’s proud of him—he’s suffered through a lot to make it to this point. They eventually arrive to his apartment and a shower is the first order of business. Syd loves the water pressure at Carmy’s place and taking showers together has been great for their newfound intimacy. They undress each other, Syd pulls her braids up in a high bun, and they just hold each other under the steaming water. This is their time. Away from The Bear. Away from Chicago. Away from the many demands and decisions they’re forced to confront every single day.

Carmy washes her with her pink loofah that’s been made a permanent staple in his bathroom. This is all new to Syd; her heart blooms in her chest at these big feelings she’s experiencing. He’s gentle and doesn’t leave an inch of skin untouched. Syd washes his hair with his expensive shampoo and Carmy’s eyes close in ecstasy. They needed this tenderness. They deserved it.

All cleaned up and fresh, they mosey back to the kitchen for a late night meal. Habits are hard to break. “Spaghetti?” Carmy suggests.

“Yes oh my goodness. Butttt use bucatini instead. And all the cheese.” He smiles in agreement and pecks her on the lips and gets out all the ingredients they need. Julia Child is on in the background on a public access channel, as they converse about the restaurant and Carmy’s nephew and Sydney’s dad and Carmy’s dysfunctional family, the deep loss Syd still feels at the absence of her mom for most of her life. More tenderness.

Pasta is rolled out. Meat sauce is sautéed, seasoned and almost ready. The Shiraz is poured. Carmy can’t stop staring at her in his shirt and boxers. She’s so cute. The pasta boils and he watches her watching the program, fully enthralled. Everything is finally done; he plates everything in his unique Carmy way and Syd audibly orgasms at how the savory flavors meld together especially with the wine.

He grates more pecorino over the pasta and the lull in conversation is comfortable and warm. Not awkward and full of anxiety like with Donna….leaving him constantly overthinking and being afraid to speak. Sydney seemingly knows what he’s going to say before he does and that brings him comfort. They’re in crystal clear alignment on every way and he now knows a semblance of peace.

“Fuck. This is good.” Sydney is damn near scraping the plate, while Carmy is smiling the biggest she’d ever seen from him. They both love when the other eats their food. That sense of pride is undeniable.

“I’m glad you enjoyed, Chef. Anything for you.” He winks at her and she gets bashful and mumbled out that she’s going to take care of the dishes since he cooked. To his surprise, he’s a little more tipsy than he realized from the Shiraz. Carmy drains his glass and pours himself another, while checking Syd’s frame out. His boxers are screaming for relief and a little moan eeks out of him before he can stop it. Thankfully Syd isn’t aware of his moment of weakness.

Carmy swallows and wipes his lips and moseys behind his girlfriend. Kissing and nipping. “I’m almost done here, Carm..” Syd whines a bit at his ministrations and drops the plate into the soapy water.

“Yeah. Not fast enough for me..” Carmy turns her around and leaps with his tongue and mouth first. Her hands are dripping wet but she doesn’t waste a second grabbing his head of wild curls and taking what he has to give. Carmy grabs her legs to wrap them around his waist and Syd can periodically feel him thrust up into her mound, wailing for stimulation that only he can provide.

Their shared affection overpowers the television, and Carmy feels his way down the hallway with his baby in his arms. His love, that saved him in so many ways. He pulls his shirt off, she takes hers off. She takes his boxers off that she had on and she lays on his bed, naked as the day she was born. “Fuck me, Carmen.”

She held in her amusement because his entire neck and face was blood red with the pupils of his eyes blown out. Syd knows that he’s doing everything he can to stay contained, but he knows her better by now—she does what she wants. So she spreads her legs for him and twirls her clit in tandem with a brown nipple. Carmy’s about to explode.

He drops to his knees and explores her love below like it’s never been done before. “Sydney, why do you taste so good? Why do you do this to me..” She relishes in the fact that he’s potentially bruising her with the vice grip he has on her thighs, but yet she’s so afraid that she’s gonna squirt in his face if he keeps gently sucking her clit in and out of his lips like that. His manicured fingers enter her canal one after the other and prompt her to let go. “CARMYYYYYYY!”

His whole chest is drenched, and his eyes are shut tight, his deft fingers rubbing tight circles around her clit with a precision that only an executive chef named Carmen Anthony Berzatto could deliver. Sydney pushed his head away and she’s left trembling with watery eyes. “I-I—i didn’t know I could do that!”

Carmy just smirks and wipes his mouth and drops his pants. Syd still can’t get over him. He has even more tattoos that can’t be readily seen on a day to day basis, he is so cut and muscled and has a cock that should be cast in 24 karat gold. Don’t sleep on the short kings.

“Turn around.” His voice leaves no room for pushback, and she can barely raise up on her knees before he’s manhandling her. He’s learned that he loves doggy with Syd. With her ass high in the air, she is getting impatient as well and reaches behind her to line him up with her slit. Carmy catches his lip in his teeth as he pushes forward and they both groan out a “fuck” that only they could wholly grasp.

On the first stroke, he’s all the way in and Syd fees his sack grazing over her entrance. They’re both in a trance. Carmy has visions of Syd cooking, smiling, cumming, revolving in his mind as well as the score of the last White Sox home game so he doesn’t bust his load quick. Syd can’t get the thought of how intense and sweet he gazes at her. How he commands their team, how his talent speaks for itself, how fucking sexy his jawline is, how big his heart is. How lucky is she? To fall in love with her idol, mentor, boss….and to have him love her back.

The bed is beginning to bounce off the wall. Their volume increases as Syd can’t hold herself up anymore and they fall into collapsed doggy with their fingers interlocked. “I’m so glad you found me. I love you Syd, I love you, I fucking—fucking love you baby!” That set Sydney off for the most expansive and overwhelming orgasm of the night, taking her beau with her over the edge. Carmy’s sweaty forehead lays on Sydney’s right temple—both of them with tears in their eyes.

Carmy kissed every finger tip until their mouths met again, both letting their waterlogged eyes flow free. “I know. I love you too Carmy. We’re never alone.”

“We’re never alone.”