#i love him so much he’s a little marshmallow on the inside

[moonymiel]

regulus is one of the best characters ever to be protagonist of a love story because he’s so prickly and detached on the outside but his inner monologue when he sees someone he likes is literally just please love me back please love me back please never leave even when i try to make you please hold me please love be back- like how is that not foundation for the Best kind of pining in a story

[supercutszns]

Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky. 

This year, there were two. 

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls. 

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love. 

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day. 

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen. 

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility. 

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him. 

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away. 

“You alright there, sunshine?” 

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile. 

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.  

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you. 

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes. 

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls. 

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does. 

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him. 

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice. 

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you. 

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer. 

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun. 

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt. 

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh. 

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on. 

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear. 

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.” 

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is. 

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink. 

You haven’t talked to him since. 

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too. 

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale. 

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you. 

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next. 

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin. 

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?” 

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both. 

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers. 

He will not. Stop. Looking at you. 

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there. 

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way. 

Luke, calling your name. 

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him. 

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear. 

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks. 

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.” 

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it. 

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!” 

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm. 

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly. 

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.” 

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in. 

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth. 

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

[luxtrys]

a hundred and ten percent ready.

your first time with anakin skywalker (18+, smut noshy. innocent!reader, cocky asf ani (a warning in itself) size kink. )

you couldn't hear the dramatically aggressive slam of the door to yours and anakin's apartment over the soft music flowing out of your record player. you hummed to the tune, swiping your hand through the chocolate you had used all your muscles to chop into the pot of boiling heavy cream.

anakin watched lovestruck, leaning his head on the kitchen door frame as you let out an excited squeal to yourself while mixing the steaming pot of hot chocolate on the stove. ani was confused the first time you had brought up hot chocolate to him, on the first conversation you ever had might i add. the way you talked about it with so much care and love he thought it was a childhood pet your parents just let you name. you added in the espresso powder and vanilla essence before stirring it with the heart spatula ani had gave you on a random sunday.

once you noticed a few to many bubbles rising to the surface of your beautiful creation, you quickly bent down to be eye level with the stove. as you slowly changed the size of the flame under your pot, you felt a strong arm snake around your waist, pulling your ass into the persons crotch. squealing, you straighten your back instantly as the familiar smell of smoke, sandalwood and cologne enters your nose. "what'chu makin baby?" anakin rasped, bending down to rest his head on your shoulder.

you looked up at him, mustering up the most annoyed face you could. he knew what you were making, you made hot chocolate at-least twice a week without failure. "oo baby don't look at me like that, gonna make me cry" he smirks, leaning down and catching your lips in a heated kiss. you indulge for a few seconds before pulling back, moving your attention back to the pot on the stove "i added espresso powder this time ani! i read it on that blog i like, it said it really brings out the chocolate flavour and i'm so excited to try" he scoffed at how quickly you just ignored the make out session you had just, rubbing your stomach with his hand and shaking his head.

it was only a few minutes before ani was pouring the steaming chocolate liquid into the matching mugs you made him for valentines day, your names etched on each and bunnies and hearts decorating the white cups. anakin always did that job, banning you from it after you accidentally poured the hot chocolate all over your hand and he had to sit in the ice cold shower with you to calm the burning for over four hours, holding you close to his bare chest as you sobbed.

you sat down on the kitchen stools, tapping your acrylic nails onto the marble surface in excitement. "what sprinkles tonight baby?" he asked as he grabbed the whipped cream out of the fridge, he knew the answer because you picked the same every-time, but he asked anyway. "pink and white hearts please ani" you answered, glancing out to the lively city of Coruscant through your endless high windows.

"thank you ani!" you exclaimed as he placed the hot mug filled with hot chocolate, a mountain of whipped cream, small pink marshmallows and little heart sprinkles into your hands. he took the seat next to you, holding his mug filled with only hot chocolate, no sprinkles, marshmallows or cream, you almost broke up with him for that when you first started dating. the whipped cream and marshmallows you got, but the sprinkles? no way.

he wrapped his hand over the back of your chair, effortlessly pulling your chair closer to his so you were touching. you stared at him as his slid his hand over the top of your bare thigh, snaking it up and down before gripping the inside of your thigh, way to close to your heat. all while just staring absent mindedly in front of him and sipping his mug.

you were starting to feel those tingles inside of you, that you coincidently only got around ani. you and ani had done stuff before a few times after you came to him at the first feeling of tingles rising inside of you. he smirked at you then and patted the space on the bed beside him, telling you it was normal and he would help you out. he always helped you out, and you felt like it was time to return the favour. he never told you that you had to though, never making you feel like he deserved something in return, but you were ready. ready for sex.

you stared down at your mug, the little pink marshmallows drowning in the chocolate as the cream melted away into nothingness. you would never pass down a hot chocolate, never. but as you looked between your boyfriend and your mug, you realised you didn't crave hot chocolate. you craved anakin.

the loud screeching of your chair as you pushed it back and your socked feet hitting the floor alerted anakin of your state. your pupils wide and palms sweating as you pulled at the fabric of your - his - shirt. glancing over to see your mug untouched, ani was just about to pull you into his chest and console you at whatever got you worked up this time. but before he could, he heard words that made he nearly spit out the hot chocolate in his mouth.

"i want to have sex with you anakin"

out of all things anakin guessed you were going to say, those words were not one of them. you were shy, even after dating for more than a year, you never just said what you wanted without taking 5 minutes to stumble over your words. and you definitely didn't say words alluding to any sort of sexual activity unless ani teased you to say it after working you up with his fingers buried in you for way too long. "what? can you say that again princess i think i heard you wrong"

"i- pfft- ani you know what i said" you whined, still standing at least 5 feet from him, because if he were to touch you near there again, you might just explode. "nope. i need you to say it again, or you're getting nothing." ok. now he was just being mean.

you always oddly noticed that though. that anytime you guys would do anything down there, ani was just a bit mean. he was always in control, powerful, dominating, but in the bedroom it was like those present qualities were maxed out to 1000.

a flush spread across your cheeks as you huffed. "i- i want to have sex with you anakin" you voiced. that signature annoying cocky smirk spread across his features as he approached you. his combat boots still on his feet from jedi duties and his biceps bulging out of his thin black short-sleeve shirt, you thought you were going to faint.

you noticed again as he stood infront of you how fucking massive he was. he was at least a foot taller than you and could literally crush your body with a single arm if he wanted to. he left goosebumps on your delicate skin as he trailed his fingers up and down your arms making you shiver. he continued on his painfully slow attack of his soft touches before running his hands to the top of your thighs and hooking his thumbs on the sides of your lacy pink underwear.

he stared down at you, biting his lip and all knowing that your underwear was completely soaked because of him. you noticed he was stalled, not making another move and deep in thought. "ani whats wrong?" you asked, no, whined.

"you know this is a big thing baby, i'm fine with helping you out as long as you need me to ok? i don't want to rush you angel. i need you to be very sure you want this." he said softly, drawing circles with his fingers on your thighs.

you weren't exactly sure if it was because you were so horny or just so in love with him, but those words could make you break down and cry.

"im sure ani." he smiled down at you "ok baby, just-. are you 100 percent sure, because not to alarm you but if we start, i'm not sure ill be able to stop" you leaned into him, your forehead resting on the soft fabric of his shirt. "i'm a hundred and ten percent ready ani, promise."

at those words he quickly gripped your ass, hoisting you up into his chest so your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms swung around his neck. your squeal made him even more giddy as all he could feel was you, his thoughts echoed with your giggles and moans and he could practically smell you soaking through your panties.

his dick was straining in his pants as he set you on the soft pink blanket you insisted on putting on your bed. he kneeled down onto his knees pulling you by your feet so your legs dangled off the end of the bed as you squealed. he could feel the need to protect, pleasure and destroy you rise in his body as he reached under the shirt that swallowed your body entirely when you wore it, which was almost always.

he went as slow as he could as he ran his fingers up and down your folds through your panties. you threw your head back at the contact, biting your lip and whining his name. he chuckled at how little he had to do to have you melting in his hands.

as much as he wanted to tease you, he just needed to see you so bad it hurt. he gripped the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, the site of your bare chest almost making him bust in his pants. "shit baby you gotta stop doing this to me, won't fucking last. you're just so pretty." he had a slight groan to every word he said, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking, making you mewl.

he looked into your eyes as he kissed all the way down your stomach before making it to the waistband of your panties. the cold air hit your sensitive clit as ani peeled of the underwear, staring at the wetness he had created and throwing them somewhere in the room. he licked a thick strip through your folds, gripping the insides of your thighs with both of his massive hands, stopping you from wriggling as he ate you out.

"fuckin' hell baby, this pussy 's gonna be the fucking death of me. taste so sweet" he said, his breath on your clit making you squirm. he needed to be in you, now. but there was no way he was fitting in you without stretching you out first, and he needed to fucking hurry.

he sucked his fingers, teasing your hole before sliding two fingers in at the same time. you gasped, looking down at him shocked, he never did two fingers first. "i know baby, you're alright. just need to get you stretched out ok? you're alright."

you nodded franticly as he pumped both fingers in and out of you, the pain quickly subsiding into pleasure. anakin didn't know how he was going to fit inside of you, because judging how hard your gripping two fingers, he wouldn't even fit three in and he was way bigger than three fucking fingers.

he finally decided to enter the third finger into you, slowly working his way through the resistance in your pussy "n-no ani, it's to much" you were blinded by pleasure, stars clouding your vision as all you could see was anakin.

"you're ok. quit whining and take it" his tone was rough and jagged, and you could not be more turned on in that moment. you whined, struggling under him as he brought you to your first orgasm of the night. you came all over his fingers with little warning, whining into your bed sheets as you gripped and pulled at his hair.

you almost let out an objection as he got up from his spot, but judging by the clouded, stern look on his face, that probably wasn't a good idea. he pulled his top off of his body swiftly, his toned, tan chest muscles straining as he ripped of his shoes. in that moment you noticed how venerable you were, you were lying in front of him stark naked, aside from your frilly pink socks, and he still even has his massive dumb combat boots on.

you slowly gripped the pink blanket under you, about to cover the bottom half of your body before a large hand halted your actions immediately. "i swear to god princess, stop or it'll be the last thing you ever fucking do" he spat, running his fingers up and down your folds again.

you noticed that now he was only in his boxers, his hard on showing through the thin material. as he slid his boxers down his legs, his length sprung out and made you gasp. you had never seen a penis before, but the way your friends crudely described it to you, you did not think it would be this big.

"what baby? you're gonna make me insecure if you keep staring at my cock like that" you huffed at his language, wondering how long it was. you stared at it for another few seconds before deciding it had to be at least 10 inches long, or even more and thick as well. safe to say it scared the shit out of you.

"ani, are you sure its meant to be that big?" he only chuckled at you, making you regret you ever asked that question. "hope so princess, had it all my life"

you reached your hand out, touching it for a moment before you heard ani hiss and pulled back instantly. "no baby its ok, i'm just to fucking horny right now, here" he gripped your hand, bringing it up to your mouth and telling you to spit. you did reluctantly and watched as he brought your hand to his dick.

"ani, thats not gonna fit down there.." you say, looking down to your pelvic area. "we're gonna make it" he smiled sweetly, a devilish twinkle in his eye.

"and just bring it right here" he instructed, guiding you to the base of his dick. you tried to wrap your hand around it, before releasing your hand didn't reach fully around the width of his cock. he groaned and threw his head back, watching as you shyly pumped up and down the shaft of his member. "here, squeeze a bit harder yeah? its not gonna break if you add a bit of pressure baby, promise"

you nodded shyly, tightening your grip on the heavy dick resting in your hand. as he was watching your movements closely, you kept eye contact and you brought your lips down and kissed the tip softly.

"fuck this" he exclaimed, manhandling you to be in the middle of the bed as he followed closely behind you. his dick slapped against his stomach, raging red and dripping with precum.

"you're doin great, bein' such a good girl for me, yeah? just need to be in you right now" you nodded frantically as he used his hand to hold the base of his dick, positioning in right infront of your pussy.

"ani is it gonna hurt?" you ask, his expressions changes from desperation to his soft loving face, lulling his head to the side as he looks straight at you. "just for a bit baby, then it will feel good, ok? you just gotta trust me on this. but if it hurts to much you tell me to stop ok? pinky swear it" you nodded as he quickly brought his pinky up to yours, inlacing it tightly before kissing your finger and letting go. "im just gonna put the tip in first baby, ok?" you nod again, a switch seems to flick in his face and he looks mad, really mad. "fucking words baby" he says before you whine "yes ani" he smiles sweetly, jesus these facial expressions are giving you whiplash.

he interlaces your left hands together as he pushes his thick tip past your walls, you mewl in pain and pleasure, the other hand you have resting on his bicep gripping so hard you're drawing blood.

"ow ani! i thought you just said the tip!" you whine, scolding your boyfriend. "that was just the tip." he states, your comments feeding his already oversized ego as all the blood rushes to his dick. you sit in that position for about another minute, until you announce for him to start moving again.

he enters his dick slowly into you, inching more until he's about half way through your walls. "s-stop. how much more to go?" you feel like his dick is the size of a fucking lightsaber, stretching you out father and father till you feel like you're simply just gonna split in half. "halfway baby, i can stop here for today. dont have to go any further angel" you looked up at him, god, you loved him to much. "kiss?" you asked softly, releasing you haven't even kissed him this whole time in the bedroom.

ani smiled sweetly, bending down and kissing your lips softly. once he pulled away, you looked at him, and then down at his length impaling you. "keep going ani"

he nodded quickly, not even having the might to protest. you breathed through your mouth as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you. it hurt, it hurt like fucking hell but with every inch he pushed inside you, you felt pleasure pulsate through every part of your body.

you let out one last squeal as he bottomed out inside of you, falling into you as he moaned in pleasure. "knew you could fucking take me baby, such a good girl" you beamed at his compliment as he slowly started rocking back and forth into you.

he was amazed how he hasn't cum yet, but he needed you to before he could. he knew you were close, he studied your moans and your facial expressions long enough to figure out when you were cumming.

"ani g- gonna cum" you moaned, feeling him in every-part of you. "go on baby, right behind you". you could feel his dick empty out in you as you came all over him, scratching up his toned back.

"i love you so much ani" you breathed, pulling and tugging at his hair, his breath tickling your shoulder as he answered. "you don't even understand how much i love you baby, no one will ever understand."

[shidouryusm]

✿༝༚༝༚ Satoru: 1 You: 0 ✿༝༚༝༚

content -> fluffy fluff, banters, teasing and touching, making out, mentions of hickey at the end, implied sexual innuendo at the end.

w/c- 1.6k

a/n -> Happy birthday to my blue eyed goober, I love this lil shit till infinity. @pastelle-rabbit to answer your ask more thoroughly hehehehe. And to every Gojo fucker, hope y'all enjoy this once again extremely self indulgent piece with me and let's celebrate our pookie's birthday. Gojover? hell nah what's that

dividers by @/cafekitsune

“Babyyy, I’m hereee. Stop looking at your phone”, you hear Satoru’s whines muffled in your sweater. Your arms wrap around his neck as you hold the phone above his head, which in fact you were using to post for his birthday.

“Just a min, ‘toru.” you murmur softly, using one of your hands to thread through his cloud like hair. Your nails gently graze his scalp, starting from his undercut, as they smoothe over the prickly skin, reaching to the tufts of white candy floss that sits atop, repeating the circling motion again and again. Satoru hums satisfyingly at the feeling of your hands combing through them, comfortable enough to shut up momentarily and nuzzling himself further into your chest. You smile at his clinginess, dipping down to press a light peck on the top of his head. 

Your nostrils fills with the sweet scent of shampoo, the fragnance carrying undertones of candy and molten marshmallow. You wonder where he even gets these and how much do they cost? 

His hands envelopes your back as you half lay on the couch with him plopping himself right on top of you, his tall frame settles between your legs while his head nests snugly on your chest. You tangle one of your leg around the back of his shin. A mess of limbs under the thin blanket that covers both your lower bodies. 

Outside, the sun shlyly peeks from the greyish clouds that wrings out sudden downpours every now and then, forcing both of you to coop up inside the house. 

Not that Satoru was complaining at all, until now, when you shifted your attention from your grown ass boyfriend to your phone. He scoffs mockingly at you, still immersed deep in your phone. What even is there in that godforsaken phone? His blue eyes maliciously eyes that rectangular device. He lays on your chest, silently devising plans on having you all to himself, till the cogs of his brain click.

He shifts, raising himself slightly under the pretext of  “just getting comfortable” so that his face now nestles the crook of your neck. Warm breaths tickles the skin under your ear to which you squirm a little, 

“Toru-” you warn. From your peripheral vision you see him curled up over you, pulling the warmth of your body towards him. His face painted with an expression of serenity as if the only thing in his mind is to be bask in your silent embrace. 

“Hmmm? What did I do?” faux innocent laced his words. You roll your eyes, one of your head still tangled between his locks. He waits for a while, letting you fall into a fake sense of security before  his hands that were wrapped around your lower back start their journey to explore the expanse of your back. His touch is soft, leaving an electrifying sensation through your thin sweater. Almost ticklish and tantalising. One of his hands reach below, long fingers playing with the hem of your sweater, daring to slip underneath it. 

You try your best to not give into whatever mischief his brain has cooked up. Even though, you know, you should have given him the attention, considering it’s his birthday. 

But, since he had to be a menace, two can play the game, right? 

Your attention has now fully shifted to your phone, the cat reel that was playing became ten times more interesting to watch. You even decided to up a notch, removing your hand from his hair to grab the phone with both hands. 

“So, this is how it’s gonna be?” you hear him challengingly mutter, the removal of your hands acting as a declaration of silent war between you two. You dared not to look at him, although you were certain that his face is curled up in his trademarked smirk, plotting to win. 

But if he’s Gojo Satoru, you are Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend. No way in hell you are backing out from this little game you both started literally out of nowhere. 

“Gonna be what, ‘Toru? What did I do?,” you parrot his words back at him, feigning innocence while still peering at your phone. Your jaw muscle twitches, a smile threatening to break out. 

Satoru quirks an eyebrow, amused by your witty banter. One of the many things that made him fall head over heels for you – your ability to match his energy at any given moment.

 Little challenges sparking up between you guys often, keeping the ultimate fire of passion alive. 

“Well, if you say so then,” Satoru breathes, his hands now fully getting into work, as they roam around your body. his other hand trails down to your hips, studying the way his palm bumps over the dips and curves. 

The hand that was fiddling with the hem has slipped inside, resting over the waistline of your sweatpants. You feel your heart race as his blunt nails scrape over your skin ghostily, hooking one finger under to pull the elastic. He snickers against your skin before releasing the fabric, letting it snap against your skin. 

You let out a small gasp at his ministrations. From the corner of your eyes you can make out this insufferable prick grinning at you, still resting his face on your neck. 

“Low blow, ‘toru.” you narrow your eyes, determined to still not make any eye contact as you whisper under your breath, which apparently he caught on. 

You hear him hum, “hmmmm? should have known before removing your hand, baby,” his satirical voice vibrates through as you scoff.

“Should have kept your hands to yourself in the first place.” 

“Shouldn’t have ignored me in the first place. Y’know it’s impossible for me to not touch you, why demand such a thing?” with that, he lets his fingertips place fluttering touches all over your skin, without the obstruction of your sweater. You hiss, trying to squirm away from his cold fingertips but this sturdy, 6 foot giant had you locked under his hold, causing you to fail horribly.

“You’re cold! Get your hands off me.” you grumble. Satoru pretends to not hear anything, continuing to draw random lines with his fingers all over your lower back and sides. At times, fully planting his palm on your back, the frigidness making you gasp and falter. 

“More the reason for me to touch you. You’re hot, baby.” he quips, to which you fall silent. How does he have the answer to everything you say? 

“I’m not gonna leave my phone nor will I react now. You’re gonna lose the challenge”, you huff to which he shrugs his shoulder,

“Nah, I’d win.” Satoru says coolly, resuming his exploration with his hands.

You fall back to your phone, finding it difficult to concentrate on whatever is playing on the phone with the way Satoru’s hands glides over your skin. The pads of his fingers skim through your stomach. Even though they are cold, the lingering touch leaves wamr blaze in its wake. Your heart races sporadically as you anticipate where his hands might move next. 

Although, your face says otherwise, making the most sour expression possible as you stare daggers into your phone. Satoru has always noticed every minuscule details and changes in your body, so this definitely didn’t go under his radar. 

He decides it’s time to dial it up a bit. Afterall, he’s the birthday boy.

With his left hand which was already underneath your sweater, he continued tracing over your skin, while his right hand snaked up to the neckline of your sweater right where his face is currently planted to tug it down, exposing more of your skin in front of him. The veil of cold from the weather outside causes goosebumps to flesh out in your skin, catching Satoru’s eyes as he admires them with his piercing gaze before his mouth puckers in a “o”, cool air slid over your skin from his mouth. 

“T-toru, stop it.” your resolves crumbles like your voice. 

“Are you denying the birthday boy, baby? Don’t hurt me like that.” He whispers against your skin, a mocking bent in his tone as he feigns sadness. You debate whether to succumb to his touches or strangle him.

You breathe through your mouth, attempting to gain composure which you are notoriously failing to do. Satoru’s lips presses against your skin, his lips etched with a grin as he places countless pecks throughout the crevice of your neck and shoulder.

“So fucking pretty, still can’t believe you’re like all mine. Why were you ignoring me, baby. Need you always so fucking much.” Satoru’s gravelly voice vibrates through your skin, the tingles straight shooting down your spine. His hand has now gripped your side like a vice, fingers indenting deep into the skin.

 He groans against your shoulder as he press a kiss there, finding his way back to your neck again, millions of kisses littering your skin. He reaches under your ear, his teeth nipping lightly at the lobe.

Meanwhile, his hands push your body up, towards him, grinding his lower body against yours.

A soft whimper dares to escape your lips before you suppress it. Hands turning a little wobbly, and you hate how heat courses through your veins as Satoru turns your whole being into a mushy puddle against himself.

“Give up, darling.” Satoru whispers in your ear, before his mouth catches hold of your skin. His teeth scrapes the skin, sucking it fervently, while his back pushes you flush against him, letting you feel all the ridges and contour of his skin. His heart rhymes with your, palpitating with galloping beats. A soft whine escapes Satoru's throat at this steamy turn of events.

This had to be the last straw that broke the camel’s back as your phone slides from your hand, falling somewhere on the floor. Your head tips back and a breathy moan ricochets the room as Satoru duly runs his tongue over the hickey that prickled a little.  

You hear Satoru’s simpering resonating around the room as he pulls you up, now seated on the couch with you straddling his lap

“See, told you I’d win.” his hand caresses the newly formed mark that will definitely take a concealer or turtleneck to hide.

“You prick. Fuck you. You did that on purpose.” 

“Tell me where it says I can’t do that.” he muses, shutting you up once again. Your lips jut in a pout as you stare at him. 

His eyes are so blue, glossing with the reflection of the rain pouring outside. His forehead veiled with your most favourite part of his body – those fluffy tufts of hair and his lips curl into a toothy smile. The eyes brimming with love and admiration for you.

Even as he weaseled his way out with an upper hand, you don't feel any of it. Rather, you drink in the way he looks so haphazard. So messy. So homely.

Your hands reach to cup his face, feeling the physicality of his beauty before you lean down to press a kiss.

“The least I can do for you birthday is to let you win, I guess. Happy Birthday, sexy.” you murmur against his lips, taking them between your own.

 He returns the kiss with the same vigour, his hands are now out of the sweater, holding your back for support, whilst pulling you close to him. 

The flavour of your strawberry balm etches itself in Satoru’s mind and he never wishes to stop from relishing the taste of your soft lips. A calm havoc wreck his insides as he thanks whatever lies above for granting him the biggest gift of his life – you.

You break apart from him, his eyes deepening their shade of blue and his face carrying a lingering expression of passion. His chest heaves from deep breaths as you stare at him with confusion. He motions his eyes downwards, making you realise what’s the issue.

“Mind helping me out?” 

a/n -> God I'd commit felonies to experience this especially with a 6'feet, white haired, blue eyed, freakishly handsome and annoying blockhead.

[https-florals]

Hi! Your request are silly open right? If so would you mind writing something along the lines of JJ and the reader have been dating for a bit and JJ keeps like complimenting or praising the reader and the reader can’t help but blush/get turned on and JJ notices she has a praise kink so he teases her with it a little more, especially if n front of their friends until he finally used it like in bed with her?

sweet talk - j.m.

word count: 2.5k

summary: jj finds out a very valuable piece of information about you.

warnings: SMUTTT under the cut, 18+!! lotta praise, slight dumbification but just a tiny bit, jj being sexy per usual, public fooling around kinda but not really, not canon because i like to pretend the chateau is still with us LMAO

a/n: okay obviously i became OBSESSED with this idea when i first read this ask!! started as a little blurb but grew to this monstrosity lol. thank you for the ask!!! i love you all so so much 🫶🏻

Even though you and JJ have been together for about a month, you’re still pretty shy. You’re still shy in public, shy when he kisses you, even more shy in bed. Your boyfriend would give you the world if he could, do anything to get inside that pretty little head of yours and see what you’re thinking. You’re becoming a little more relaxed around his friends, which he’s grateful for.

Tonight, everyone is sitting around the fire pit outside the Cháteau. It's a pretty summer night, with fireflies darting around and stars peeking through the clouds.

You’re perched on J’s lap, John B and Sarah in a similar position next to you. Kie and Cleo are doing a shotgunning contest, and Pope is actually chill for once, a blunt in his hand.

You’re roasting a marshmallow over the fire, laughing with Sarah about a new sitcom episode, when JJ taps your arm.

“Will you make me a s’more?” he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout, and you roll your eyes.

“Can’t you make yourself one?” you tease, but still slide a graham cracker out of the box and a mini hershey’s.

“Tastes better when you make it, though.” He’s not wrong, you make a mean s’more. When you go to hand it to him, he just opens his mouth.

Your eyebrows shoot up and your jaw drops, but your lips still curl into a smile. “Fine.” You adjust so you’re facing him a bit better, and hold the s’more as he takes a bite. JJ’s blues don’t leave yours as he takes a bite, and you kick yourself mentally as he groans out of satisfaction. This shouldn’t be this attractive, after all, it’s a s’more. That's like, the least sexy food ever, you tell yourself. Now a slice of juicy watermelon, you could get behind. But right now, you’re just being ridiculous.

You’re snapped back to reality when he swallows and exhales, hand squeezing your thigh. “Atta girl. Was a damn good s’more.”

Your cheeks go fire hot.

“Dear god, this is not the place for foreplay!” John B groans.

You clap your hand over the lower half of your face as Sarah starts to laugh.

JJ throws a beer can at him. “Man, Sarah's been grinding on you for the past half hour and I haven't said shit. Are you not in like, massive amounts of pain?”

It's John B's turn to blush, and he looks down at the ground quickly when Sarah snorts, pressing her lips together in an effort not to laugh.

“Are we being too…” you’re struggling to think of the word as you whisper to your boyfriend- “Pda-ish?” Surely not, because he had a point about John B and Sarah. They’re all over each other all the time, and you should be able to do the same.

“No, no!” JJ’s eyes are wide as if you told him that you were thinking about shaving your eyebrows off. “You’re doing perfect, baby.” His hands rub up the sides of your arms, and you smile, all bashful.

Butterflies fill your stomach at the way he’s looking at you.

“Absolutely perfect,” he repeats, and before you even realize it you’re subconsciously squeezing your thighs together.

As soon as you do it, you hope he doesn’t notice, but his lips curl into a little smirk after the realization hits.

You hop up quickly, and wipe your sticky marshmallow fingers on your shorts. “I'm gonna go get a blanket! I’m a little chilly!” you chirp, and nearly sprint into the house.

Gears are turning in JJ's head. He’s chuckling as he sips his beer, so much to the point that Sarah gives him a weird look.

“What are you cracking up about?” she asks, watching the blond boy grin and shake his head.

“I just learned something very interesting about my girlfriend, Sarah.”

You come out of the house a few minutes later, and Kie has pulled out her ukulele. They’re all singing along to the Bob Marley song she’s playing, and JJ pats his thigh, an invitation for you to come back and sit on his lap. Tentatively, you take your spot, draping the blanket over the both of you. Under the fabric, your fingers shift over the frayed hem of JJ’s cargo shorts. His callused hand curls around yours, and he threads your fingers together.

You relax at his touch, and start to sing along with the rest of your friends. JJ lightly pulls on one of thin braids scattered through your messy hair, each one with a different colored thread running through it- courtesy of Kiara and Sarah. It’s nothing you’re not used to, and you turn your head a bit more toward him and frown. “What?”

“You just sound so pretty.” His voice is low, and it rumbles in your eardrum like thunder. You just know your cheeks are going pink again, and you try to fight the rising need you feel.

“My sweet, pretty girl.”

That’s it. You probably look like a tomato. You chew your bottom lip as you smile, and suppress the urge to kiss him right then and there.

JJ grins, and that’s when it hits you that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Damn, why are you all red?” Kie laughs as she hits a chord on her uke, and naturally everyone turns to look at you.

“JJ, what are you saying to that poor girl?” Sarah fake pouts and shakes her head at him like she’s scolding a puppy.

You cover your mouth, flushing even more with embarrassment.

“We’ve been goin’ on a little journey of self-discovery over here,” he answers, face all smug as his hand shifts to the top of your thigh under the blanket. His thumb just skims over the crotch of your shorts, so thin that you just know he can feel through them. Feel how wet you’re getting.

Your guess is spot on, cause his eyes widen and he does that thing where he sticks his tongue in his cheek and laughs. “Finding new things out about each other,” he continues, not breaking eyecontact with you.

“Is that a fancy way to say harassing her?” Cleo pipes in, snorting before she says, “You’re a bad, bad man, Maybank.”

He shrugs, all cocky.

Luckily, conversation carries away from the two of you, but his hand is still against your pussy. Thank God for that damn blanket. His fingers are idly running over the fabric, and it’s driving you insane.

“We need to go,” you whisper to him, uncomfortable with the burning between your thighs.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Do we?” You’re usually not the one dragging him away from social functions- that’s more JJ’s style.

You nod fervently, rocking back and forth on his thigh and trying to make it unnoticeable.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you know it’s rude to demand things,” he says back to you lowly, and you’re silently rejoicing that no one is paying attention to the two of you.

You swallow, and take a deep breath. “Please, JJ, can we leave?”

“There you go,” he sighs, and he helps push you up off him.

After a shit ton of teasing from the Pogues, you’re finally able to slip away. You’re barely through the door of your apartment when JJ jumps you, kissing you hard and running his hands up and down your sides, over your ass, and coming to rest just under the waistband of your shorts.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a praise kink?” he asks point-blank, against your lips as you’re fumbling with his belt.

“I don’t,” you gasp out, finally pulling it through the loops and throwing it down.

“Bullshit, baby.” JJ finally gets your shorts down, and his hand just ghosts over your underwear. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fuck, J,” you whine, pushing his shorts down and trying to shove your hand down his underwear, but he jumps back, leaving you devoid of his touch.

You huff like a child preparing to throw a tantrum.

“C’mon. Tell the truth.”

“I didn’t know I had one, JJ,” you cry, just wanting to feel him. You swallow, and follow up with, “Not until you.”

You can basically see his head get bigger as he grins, and finally puts his hands back on you. “All I wanted to know, sweet thing,” he laughs before he kisses you again, tongue slipping between your teeth. He tastes like beer and a little bit of marshmallow, and he smells like bonfire smoke.

He pulls away from you just long enough for you to both throw off your shirts, and then he’s picking you up and carrying you into your bedroom. JJ sets you on the bed all gentle, a startling contrast to the way he’s kissing you and touching you, the way he yanks your panties off and slides a finger between your folds. “Fucking finally,” he groans, nudging himself inbetween your legs. “Wider.”

You fall open for him, and he braces your hip with one hand. “Atta girl,” he says, and he slides two fingers in, slow and steady as he leans over you to trail kisses down your neck. You grind against his palm as he sucks a spot on your neck, your back arching and hips bucking. You watch his hand slide into his boxers, watch the movement of his hand slide over his cock.

JJ notices how enraptured you are, and he removes his fingers from you, a little shocked when you don’t make much of a fuss. “You wanna do something for me, pretty?”

That’s all it takes for you to drop to your knees, thighs pressed together as he pulls his dick out, and you’re absolutely bewitched. You sit back on your heels and look up at JJ, a perfect little picture of innocence with your eyes all wide… and then you open your mouth.

It’s fucking pornographic. There’s no way in hell you’re real, JJ thinks, as he curls your hair around his hand and thrusts into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him, and his head falls back. “Good fucking girl.”

He also doesn’t think you’ve ever been this bold for him. But holy shit, he’s not complaining, especially when you gag around the tip of his cock. Your mascara is smudging beneath your eyes, lips swollen and looking so pretty wrapped around him.

You’re squirming, and JJ can feel the vibration of all the little sounds you’re making as you suck him off.

“Go on and touch yourself,” he gasps out as he hits the back of your throat.

However, as soon as you moan around him, JJ knows he won’t last long, and he wants too badly to come inside you to let himself get any closer. He’s pulling out quick, ignoring your cries as he pulls you up and pushes you onto the mattress.

On your knees, you fall facefirst into your pillow. JJ smacks your ass once, and is then manhandling you into another position, like he can’t make up his mind. He spots the mirror propped against the wall in your room, and pushes you back on all fours. When you look up, you can see him behind you. You watch as he pushes into you, watch the way his eyes screw shut in concentration, the way his blonde hair sticks to his forehead.

Wriggling, you moan out his name and whine as he sets a steady pace, slow, almost too slow. “JJ…”

“What?”

When you just whimper in response, he shakes his head and stills inside you. “C’mon, darlin’, use your words,” he chides, hands smoothing over your hip.

“Go harder, please,” you’re begging, pushing yourself against him.

“There ya go,” he grunts, speeding up, pushing into you hard and deep. He smacks your ass, once, twice, relishing in the little cry you let out each time. He pulls you up against him, chest to your back, hand against your throat as he makes sure you’re looking in the mirror. Makes sure you’re watching him slide in and out of you. “Look at how good you’re taking me,” he groans, hand moving to your clit when he’s sure you won’t look away. “Go on, keep looking for me. Look at how pretty you look, babydoll. All fucked out, and your mascara is even running,” He laughs, and you clench around him at the sound, the burning in your lower stomach becoming almost unbearable. You shake your head, unable to get any words but JJ knows what you need.

He lets you back down slow, propped up on your elbows as he rams into you. You just know you’re gonna have bruising on your cervix, but that's a problem for later.

His fingers circle your clit purposed and quick, and you feel like you’re about to tip over the edge. The way he shudders inside you lets you know he’s not too far behind you.

“J, S’close. M’gonna-”

“Hold it,” he says, tone a little mean as he picks up his pace. He wants to fall apart with you.

Just when you think you can’t hold on anymore, can’t reign it in, he twitches hard. “Now, baby. Come on, all over my cock, pretty-” He cuts himself off by his own moan, spewing into you as your cunt spasms around him. “Good girl,” he repeats as he fucks you through both of your orgasms, over and over. “My good fucking girl.”

JJ is still murmuring it when he collapses next to you, kissing your forehead. “So perfect for me,” he says all soft with a smile and another kiss to your temple, a complete contrast to the low growl in his voice moments before. “Gonna clean you up real good,” he chirps before hopping off the bed and into the bathroom. You giggle as you watch him walk away, forever finding your boyfriend’s bare ass a little funny.

JJ comes back with a damp, warm towel and two glasses of sweet tea, and he gives one to you after he helps you move and sit back against the headboard. He pulls the old sex wax tshirt out of his drawer and puts it on you, then nestles himself between your legs to clean you up. You wince as he swipes the towel over your pussy, and he shushes you and puts a hand on the back of your calf, soft and comforting. “Did so good for me, honey,” he says again, kissing your forehead for what seems the hundredth time, and pulls the covers up over you both.

When you curl into him, tiredness hits you like a truck, and it seems to do the same for him as he yawns, and leans over to turn off the lamp.

“JJ?” you ask, quietly.

“Yeah?”

“So maybe you’re right. About me having a praise kink.”

He laughs, and pulls you a bit closer to him. “Yeah, no shit!”

You frown. “What? Was it that bad?”

“Damn, baby, if I woulda known you’d act like that if I talked all sweet to you, I woulda done it a long, long time ago.”

thank you for reading!! likes, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!

[chapel-of-rizztual]

~nsfw~

Mountain gets snowed in the greenhouse. When he’d gone there in the morning it was only snowing a little bit, but by the time the afternoon rolled around it was a complete flurry and he couldn’t get the greenhouse door open. This wasn’t the first time this has happened, in fact it happened at least once every winter so Mountain was prepared. He had a little electric heater, some blankets and fold out bed. He always kept snacks and water incase he got hungry and didn’t want to trek back to the abbey. Nobody really worried that much when he got stuck, he knew how to take care of himself and it had never been an issue before, Mountain always found his way back to them within a day. 

This time was different. The heater wouldn’t work and Mountain had forgotten to bring the blankets out when the first frost had hit. He was well and truly fucked this time. 

By the time he makes it back the abbey the next morning he’s absolutely freezing. There’s a blue tinge to his lips and the tops of his ears, he can’t feel his hands or his face or anything really, it’s all numb and stinging from the biting cold. His teeth won’t stop chattering and he can’t stop the shiver that continues to run through his whole body. 

He gets fussed over by all the ghouls before he gets dragged off by one of them. His clothes get stripped off and he gets gently placed into a nest that’s covers in thick fluffy blankets. It smells like campfire smoke and roasted marshmallows. He lets out a little thrill and he buries himself deeper into the blankets, welcoming the warmth they bring. There’s a warm, equally naked body pressed up against his back, warm nimble fingers combing through his snow damp hair.

“Why didn’t you call me.” Dew noses along Mountain’s neck. “I would have come to get you, I would have melted the snow.” 

Mountain can hear the concern in his voice.  “I didn’t-didn’t have my phone.” His teeth won’t stop chattering. “Left-left it in the kitchen. In the f-fruit bowl.” 

Dew headbutts the back of his head lightly, running his warm palm over Mountain’s quivering stomach.  “You need to start taking it with you. Incase you get stuck there again.” 

“I’m-I'm normally more prepared. But the h-heater wouldn’t work, and-and I f-forgot the blankets- Dewy I’m so cold it hurts.” 

Dew lets out a sympathetic whisper, kicking up his heat even more and presses himself even closer to Mountain’s back.  “I don’t want to hear you up too fast and burn you, pebble.” 

Mountain shivers and presses himself closer to Dew.  “I can feel it in my bones. It’s like I’m cold on the inside.” 

Dew kisses Mountain’s shoulder.  “I can warm you up from the inside if you want.” He smirks and bites down lightly on Mountain’s  shoulder. 

There’s a pause, the only sound that can be heard is the chattering of Mountain’s teeth.  “You mean- mean that?” He asks in a timid voice.

“Of course.” Dew kisses his shoulder again. “It’ll help warm you up.” 

“Please.” Mountain arches his back with a moan. “Please, Dew I’m so cold. Please warm me up.” 

Dew fingers him open quickly, Mountain whines and fidgets the whole time, rocking his hips back into Dew’s fingers. He only settles again when Dew eventually sinks his cock into him, keeping one warm hand on his hip. 

He lets out a chuff as Dew bottoms out, his bony hips flush against his ass. He lets into a grain as he feels heat start to radiate inside him, warming him form the inside just like Dew had said. 

Dew cards his fingers through Mountain’s hair again, scratching at his scalp in the way he knows Mountain loves.  “That better, baby? Feel good?” 

Mountain nods with a sleepy hum, finally the shivers and chattering of his teeth come to a stop as he feel’s himself finally begin to warm. 

“Feels good. So warm.” Mountain purrs as he wiggles slightly, burying himself deeper into the blankets. 

Dew feels himself twitch as Mountain clenches around him and he resists the urge to roll his hips and fuck into Mountain. 

“You feels so good, darling. Once you’ve rested and warmed up properly I’m gunna fuck you so well.” 

Mountain lets out a gasp and arches his back, grabbing at Dew’s hand that resting on his stomach. 

“Yeah? You like that idea, babyboy? You want me to fuck you? Get you nice and snug and stuck on my knot?” Dew scratches at Mountain’s belly, feeling it flutter under his touch. 

“Yeah, yeah Dew, I want that. Please.” Mountain begs, but Dew can hear the tiredness and the edge in his voice.

“Sleep first, baby.” He strokes down Mountain’s cheek with his finger. “Need you to be well rested for what I’m going to do to you.” 

Mountain whines, but he doesn’t argue against Dew, he can feel the heaviness weighing his eyes down. 

“I’ll be here, keeping you warm.” Dew noses into his neck. “And if you’re good, I'll fuck you awake.” 

Mountain has never fallen asleep so fast. 

[starythewriter]

Vinnie hacker car sex while it rains

WATTPAD

SMUT. MINORS DONT INTERACT OR READ.

A/N: im releasing this because my first ever post to hit 200 notes was a VH post so this is y’all’s reward. Next week, wolverine is finally entering the picture with his own oneshots.

you met up with Vinnie, you were over at his house, it was beautiful he gave you a small kiss, you stared outside finding the rain pouring down… you loved the rain..l it was your favorite thing in the world, you both got ready for a cozy night, getting marshmallows and some hot chocolate.

after some hanging out you were gonna leave, but Vinnie had other plans…

as you were on his bed, he grab some old pants he had from past endeavors with you, you blushed, “stay with me you little slut” you teased him with “what are you Jack got this too?”

he grabbed you and sat you in his lap, you moaned as he kissed your neck he was being aggressive but in the best way, he slowly started to touch himself as he kissed your panties, you tried to undress him he whispered “we’re gonna do this my way”

he pinned you against the wall kissing you, he took of your shirt, slowly kissing your nipples, you moaned loudly. “vinnie- you know I love you right? i- need you so much”

he said: “I know baby that’s why I’m gonna give it all to you, I’m gonna make you forget about Jack”

he kissed and licked your breasts, slowly starting to unbutton your pants… you moaned again as Vinnie pulled off your pants ‘fuck yes’ you thought.

and then… you gasped, because Vinnie wasn’t kissing your boobs, but instead licking the inside of your thigh… he continued licking. he then stopped.

he put a blind fold on you and took you to his car, you could hear the rain, you took the blind fold off and sat ontop of him, “you like the rain right? let’s do this here slut”

you moaned as he took of his pants and you took everything off too, you kept kissing, he whispered “I’m gonna fuck your tight pussy up so good nobody will hear the rain they’ll just hear us” you kept moaning.

slowly you sat ontop of his dick and started to ride him… you moaned “oh- Vinnie your such a sweetheart and too easy to please, but I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard just wait…”

he smirked and kissed your boobs, you snapped your head back unable to resist, you just started at the car ceiling as his skills were too good. “oh- fuck vinnie what- are you doing- i- can’t your making me so wet-“

he moaned saying “that’s the point my baby, I need to make you all mine, swear yourself to me. I’m gonna FUCK YOU UP SO HARD” he moaned. he quickened his pace and so did you, you felt him getting closer, but he was holding onto the high as he didn’t want you to forget this night. something about him was different tonight, he was here to prove something.

you knew his pride was getting in the way he wanted to show you how much better he was then Jack.,. you didn’t care, you saw the rain pouring down and moaned out “vinnie.. this rain is so… beautiful oh- fuckkk-“ you moaned he whispered with hunger “of course it is, just like you my baby, your prettier then a siren… you have my heart all to you… but if we’re gonna be together like this then you better know I’m gonna fuck you up”

he said with a smirk…

you just moaned and gave him a smile with pleasure, he loved seeing your lewd face, you loved seeing his abs, being able you make him moan this hard, you slowed down, and his eyes shuttered, his moan vibrated so smoothly, you could tell this pace had him triggered in the right ways, “oh- fuck baby- no- body could do this as- well as you can”

he said licking your boobs, you just kept going faster, your hands grabbed his hips tightly as his hand moved between your thighs, your breath hitched as he started rubbing your clit, “you feel so wet, baby…” he moaned. your breathing hitched, you bit your lips not wanting to cry and scream, you bit your lip harder until it bled “you’re so wet for me”

his grip on your hips tightened, you whimpered and he started pumping your clit faster and faster. “fuck you’re so tight” you moaned. he moaned “so wet”

you moaned as he pumped your clit even harder. his thrusts became rough as he came, and you couldn’t handle any more of it. your orgasm hit you and you cried out in pleasure “ohhhhhhh… fuck vinnie” you moaned as you reached your peak, your hips moving faster and faster. You could see a tear fall down your cheek… you enjoyed this a lot, it was a long ride…

but you didn’t mind it, that’s what made today so special, the build up… you kissed him and whispered “thank you… I’ve never felt like that ever…”

he replied with “ no thank you baby girl, I’ve never had someone with such skills, you got me good, sometimes all I wanted to do with explode and fuck you into my car seats… your irresistible baby, your legs are all mine for me to consume… your eyes are special..”

you let out a pornographic moan as he praised you…

you both got out and kissed in the rain “your so talented darling, Y/N, this was so special… thank you… this moment in the rain… I love it I hope we can do this everytime it rains”

you smiled back and nodded… you kissed him again. you both headed back and slept together on his bed, you saw his necklace with a cross, you kissed his collarbone making sure he felt the love of an Angel.. “baby- that feels good” you responded: “I know Vinnie just relax.”

you both fell asleep with hickey marks over your body, and vinnies bruised collarbone with kisses of love, passion and lust.

[reredaydreams]

The Untying of the Red Fabric || Red Lace (2) || Jeon Jungkook

A story of when an artist falls in love with their muse.

Paring: Painter!Jk x muse reader

Summary: when you go to a live painting class, where you meet him, not knowing that he was an up and coming, anonymous painter, and you were about to become his muse.

Or

A story where two artists, in their own perspectives, fall in love, in a type of love that felt as if their hearts were tied together, by a red lace fabric.

Content: established relationship, romance, fluff, 4 year age gap, strangers to friends to lovers, he takes care of you, flirtatious teasing, red lace fabric, painting, university student reader, acts of service, muse reader

Warning: this series contains mature content, 18 +

Wc: 2.8k

Masterlist, Chapter 1

Tag list:@khadeeeeej, @tinnakitten , @joonsproperty , @parkinglot-nights , @lllucere , @bangtans-momma ,

@sexytholland

A low sizzling sound of the egg omelette being fried could be heard in the kitchen, as Jungkook stood there, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants while his upper body remained naked, his damp hair swept back, an indication for his recent shower. Oh god, how hot he looked, standing there lost in thoughts of his day at the beach with you yesterday, and the adventures he had with you in the car, causing a smile to naturally play on his lips.

You would have spent more time admiring his muscles and his broad back if it wasn’t for this burning fever that was causing you distress, a result of having to run back to the car in the heavy rain yesterday.

“Achoo,” the sound was heard, pulling Jungkook out of his trance. “Y/n–” Jungkook began, but trailed off as he took in your appearance. Your disoriented pyjamas, the blanket draped over your shoulders, nose red, eyes puffy while a tiredness visible in them, and handful of tissues at your side indicated everything he needed to know.

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook called, walking towards you with open arms, ready to engulf you into a big bear hug, however, you extended your arm straight out, making him pause at arms length. “I’m sick,” you declared. “Yes, I can see that. And?” he questioned, looking at you with furrowed brows. “So, don’t come near me, you’ll get sick as well” you asserted, maintaining the distance between both of you.

“And, I don’t really care,” he declared, giving you a ‘duh’ look before pulling you to him by your extended arm, and caging you within them. A whine of displeasure left your mouth, as you attempted to pry your way out of his hold, keeping your face as far away as possible. Seeing this, Jungkook held you even more tightly, his one hand making its way behind your head, bringing it to rest on his chest.

You wanted to resist, and push him away, but his warmth was what you needed right now, so you wrapped your hands around him and snuggled closer into his chest, as much as physically possible. Minutes passed, but you both remained in the same position, not wanting to leave each other’s comfort. Jungkook placed a small kiss on top of your hair, before lightly resting his chin on your head. “Go and rest in the bedroom, I'll bring you breakfast and some medicine. Hmm?” Jungkook explains softly.

You pull back, nodding slowly as Jungkook wraps the blanket securely around your shoulders, urging you to make your way to the bedroom. Once you were inside the room, you nestled inside a big, warm blanket, to try and get relief from the shivers that were going through your body due to the cold.

A little while later, Jungkook entered with a tray full of yours and his breakfast, along with the medicine for your cold. He sat in front of you, feeding you from one bowl, and himself from another. After ensuring that you had taken the medicine, Jungkook heads back to the kitchen, cleaning up everything quickly, so that he can spend time with you, while taking care of you.

When he entered the bedroom, he saw you bundled up in the blanket like a marshmallow, your eyes closed, as you sought relief from the ill feeling. With soft steps, Jungkook made his way to your side, lifting up the blanket gently, but your inquiry stopped him mid movement of laying down by your side. “Kookie? What are you doing?” You ask, though you already knew the answer, as you shook your head disapprovingly.

“Trying to cuddle with you,” he answers, giving you a puppy look, manipulating you with the cute face to allow him to carry on with his wish. “No, you can not! I don’t want you to get sick. Plus, don’t you have an important meeting tomorrow?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, but-” he tried to defend, while his shining doe eyes did their best to lure you to a yes. However, your glare made him give up his venture and oblige to your wish.

Letting the blanket fall onto the bed that he still had held in his hand, he stormed out of the room, not before giving you a very loud huff, to indicate that he wasn’t happy with this decision.

You once again took to the comfort of your blanket, feeling glad that he listened to your command, and wasn’t being stubborn. You would have loved to cuddle with him at this moment, however, his well being is your top priority, especially since he has important work coming up this week.

A shuffling sound broke your train of thought, as you turned your gaze to see Jungkook setting up a painting easel near your bed. He looked back at you, over his shoulder, “you can stop me from cuddling with you, but you can’t stop me from being in your presence,” he declared, giving you a cheeky smile, earning a chuckle from you.

You turned to your side to better admire your very handsome partner, as he went in and out of the bedroom to bring a canvas and his painting supplies from his art studio.

Your eyes followed the moments of his hands, as he performed his magic. Jungkook was an amazing painter, and his passion for the art form could be seen in his eyes, and in his body language, whenever you would engage in a conversation with him on the topic.

Your eyes would occasionally avert over to his toned body, admiring its every curve. Your eyes trailed the lines of his tattoos, while also studying the muscles underneath that were results for his love for going to the gym. Jungkook loved exercising, but what he loved more was dragging you along with him, to the gym. You were someone who likes to exercise more at home than going to the gym, however, in this case you didn’t mind much, as it gave you a chance to spend more time with him, between your busy schedules.

You continued to admire his body, before moving your eyes to his face, taking in his magnificent beauty. The little piercing on his brow moved slightly, as his brows furrowed in focus as he glided the paintbrush on the canvas. Your eyes made their way to his cheeks that you loved to kiss and at times playfully bit before trailing to his plump lips, that you so desperately wanted to feel against your own. Oh, how you wanted to pull him to yourself and make out with him right at this moment, only if it wasn’t for your cold.

“Enjoying the view, darling?” Jungkook teased, gazing at you mischievously from the corner of his eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I, when there are such beautiful pieces of art right in front of me.” you declared with a lazy smile, as a small blush crept its way to his cheeks. Your smile turned into a one of joy, as it felt nice to see that you still had the same effect on him from years ago, like the one he maintained on you.

You continued to adore him while he worked on his craft, delving into the art form that first caused you to walk into his life. You slowly dozed off into a peaceful slumber as you reminisced over the memory of your first meeting.

8 years ago, late April

You entered the room, wearing a long, sleeveless sundress, accompanied by a red shoulder cardigan, while light blue and white patchwork tote bag, with a thick, red lace ribbon tied into a bow around the intersection of the straps and the body of the bag, hung over your shoulder.

The smell of paint and wood entered your nose as you took in a breath of air inside the space. Painting easels were set up around the centre of the room, where a clothed table was set up for the muse of today’s painting section.

As the exhausting second year of engineering came to an end, your friend suggested going to this live painting class that she had found, as a form of self-care after completing the semester. You couldn’t help but say yes, even though you much rather stay at home and just laze around in your bed during your days before your internship started, but painting was that one thing that ignited a passion, enlightened your soul, and freed you from the boredom of the eversame days.

“Aren’t you excited? We are finally doing something different than having a study date!” Your friend Danielle exclaimed, as she intertwined her arm with yours, pressing her face against your shoulder. You had met her in your first year of university, she approached you complimenting your outfit, and asking about the keychains on your bag, which were about an animated show that she also liked. The friendship blossomed on the basis of common interests, and strengthened over the mutual suffering experienced in your major: you both were in architectural engineering.

“Of course! I am glad to finally be somewhere that isn’t surrounded by books.” You replied with a scrunched face, memories of studying in the library for hours on end for your finals coming back to you. You and Danielle continued discussing the internships you both were doing over the summer, and other hangout plans, before the sound of a clap brought everyone’s attention to the front of the class.

A man with purple dyed hair, stood there with a gentle, welcoming smile, small hints of dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Hello everyone! I’m Kim Namjoon, and I’ll be the coordinator for today’s session” he introduced, his smile growing, making his dimples more prominent to the eyes.

“And, this is Jungkook, he will be our muse for today,” Namjoon explained, hands motioning to the figure that stood by his side. Your eye travelled to the man wearing a loose white shirt, along with the same coloured trousers. His right arm was embellished with ink, forming intricate patterns, symbolising different meanings, unknown to anyone but him. Your eyes gazed over his bare face; it was beautiful. However, it was those doe eyes that had catched your infatuation. Wispy bangs were scattered across his forehead, giving peaks at the skin beneath. Small strands were pushed behind his ears, reaching to his jaw. His hair followed the flow of his movements, as he turned his face to look around the room, waving at the people in the room, a quiet smile resting on his lips.

Both men were undeniably handsome, murmurs of their appearance going around the room. Namjoon cleared his throat, bringing everyone's attention back to him. “Everyone, get your canvas ready, and get the paints you need from the table in the corner. We will begin in 10 minutes” he relayed kindly.

Soon enough, everyone had their canvas situated, paints ready, and the session began. Starting with shades of yellow oil paint, you began working on the underpainting. You looked up, observing the view in front of you: Jungkook was seated on the table that was adorned with a dark purple cloth, his legs dangling from the side, while his body leaned on to his arms that were straightened out behind him, palms flat against the table.

The shines of the evening sun turning from spring to summer radiated through the room, casting a dreamy haze over the world. A honey-like glow gleaned over Jungkook, his hair flowed along with the breeze that made its way through the open window, making him appear ethereal.

As his eyes glanced around the room, they stopped on you, looking warmly into your eyes. He slightly tilted his head to the side, giving you a mellow smile, which you reciprocated, and went back to painting the figure.

In between painting the canvas, you would notice his eyes returning to you again and again. You wondered why, was there something on your face? You picked up your phone to check, but you saw nothing on it. Your eyes made their way back to him, his own already on you. You notice him giving a small, inaudible laugh at your action, earning a narrowed look from you. He gave you a cheeky smile, his eyes carrying a teasing glint.

You decided to disregard his actions, and continued focusing on your painting. His occasional stares at you continued throughout the session. Once the time was done, everyone put their paintings along the wall for them to dry, and to be picked up later this week. You placed the painting against a wall in the room, taking a step back to look at the process you made, and noting what details needed to be added.

“Oh, wow!” You heard a voice coming over your shoulder. You slightly turned your head, only to be met with his gorgeous side profile. He was leaning a bit, his face on the same height as yours, just above your shoulders, his arms crossed behind his back. “It is beautiful,” Jungkook commented, his gaze turning to look into your eyes that were already on him.

The painting was truly beautiful: it was done in a red colour scale, with hints of the yellow underpainting showing through, a gold like glow surrounding the figure, while white paint traced soft patterns across the skin.

“Are you saying that because you were the muse?” You inquired nonchalantly, turning to analyse the canvas once again.

A small laugh escaped his lips, as he moved back, while you turned your body to fully face him. “I mean, it does help when the muse is also handsome,” he asserted playfully, looking keenly into your eyes.

You were about to comment on his claim, but before you could, he spoke up again. “I’m just joking, but truely, you are a very good artist,” he claimed, giving you a genuine smile, while casually putting his hands into the pocket of his trousers.

“Thank you,” you replied, turning your head to look at the painting momentarily, before looking deeply back into his eyes. “And I agree, it does help when the figure you are painting is so pretty. It makes it more enjoyable,” you acknowledged, with a bit of teasing.

A light hue of red crept to his cheeks and ears, as his brows raised slightly and the sudden remark, his pupils enlarging. His shoulders faintly scrunching up, as he looked towards the painting due to his shyness, a gleaming smile threatening to break on his face.

He didn’t know why he was feeling like this over your indirect compliment. He had become used to hearing people talk about his beauty, but hearing it come from you felt different. It was because he had perceived you as an artist: someone who could observe the small and fine details of its subject, translating it to a form that was art.

“I should get going, my friend is waiting for me. It was nice meeting you,” you relayed, a tender smile on your lips, directed towards him.

He finally looked at you again, taking out his hands from his pockets, giving a small nod, before greeting you a bye with, “Yes, I hope to see you again,” a shining look in his eyes.

“For sure,” you agreed, looking at him one last time, before making your way past him. Jungkook stood there blankly, gazing at the spot where you stood moments ago, not wanting to look at your leaving figure. He could hear you talking to your friend behind him, when something caught his eyes.

He untangled the red fabric that was stuck to his watch, holding it in front of him. A sense of familiarisation came to his face, realising that it was the fabric of the bow that was tied to your bag that had likely come off when you walked past, getting stuck in his watch.

He turned around, seeing you leaving through the door. He could have caught up with you, giving the cloth back to you, but his feet had seemed to become stationary, frozen in place. Instead he just held it in his hand, looking blankly at the door.

“Kook, I have cleaned up the studio, let's head out now,” Namjoons voice rang through the now empty room, as he walked over to Jungkook, breaking him out of his trance. Jungkook just nodded, his mind still lingering on the thoughts of you, and a faint smile played at his lips.

“Oh, what’s this in your hand?” Namjoon inquired, as the item in his hand had come to his attention. Registering what it was, Namjoon questioned again, “where did you get it from?”

“Fate”

“What?” Namjoon asked, confusion clear on his face.

“Fate,” Jungkook replied nonchalantly, turning to him momentarily, before averting his gaze to where it was before. “Fate has landed this piece of red fabric in my hands,” he explained cryptically, heading towards the door, followed by his friend who was trying to decipher his words.

[endlessthxxghts]

Babes you already know. Smutttaaaay!!! Let’s go with Frankie, and I would really love for you to include a food item. Not saying it HAS to be caramel, but like, also not saying that. 😉 ILY and I am SO FREAKING PROUD OF YOU. You write your bootay off and feed us all. You deserve it!

Please accept 1,000 kiths from me to you. 💋💖

Comfortable

Frankie Morales x afab!reader Can be read as a standalone or in association with Liquid Gold.

Summary: Frankie helps fulfill your craving for s'mores. SMUT 18+ MDNI: food play (melted chocolate), slight soft dom!Frankie, neck kissing/hickeys, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, cumming untouched.

A/N: @katiexpunk, MY LOVE, I LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU SO MUCH. I'M GIVING YOU 1,000 KISSES RIGHT BACK. I'm also giving you 1,000 (maybe slightly more… but I won’t tell if u don’t🤐) smutty words right back. 💋💋

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

It wasn’t often you craved s’mores, but when you did—God, did you need them immediately. Frankie knew right away there was no battling you on this even though you two were in the middle of cuddle time, so with a kiss to your forehead, he told you he’d set up the bonfire while you dressed into something more warm. 

Padding to your room, you change into your usual bonfire outfit—a two-sizes too big sweatshirt paired with your favorite flannel pajama pants—then you make the trek to your backyard to Frankie basking in the orange glow of the flame, all the s’more ingredients placed on the chair beside him. 

He smiles at you, opening his legs further, patting his lap. You make your way to him, and with his hands on your hips, he turns you around to face the fire, settling you to sit on the inside of his thigh. 

“I’ll have mine after yours, baby, get your fix first,” Frankie tells you, placing a kiss on your shoulder as he places a fluffy marshmallow on the skewer.

“Okay, baby,” you beam, turning your body more to face the fire—your ass directly on his crotch at the change in position. Frankie nearly chokes on his spit.

After a few more seconds, you’re sitting back up, the friction against him enough for a breathy groan to escape his lips. “Done! Ready for the assembly, baby, can you-” 

Only then do you take him in, your eyes meeting his pained expression. “Baby- are- are you okay? Am I hurting you? I could pull up another chair-”

You move to get up, one hand still holding the skewer slightly over the fire as you look back to Frankie behind you, but his hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you atop of him. 

“No,” he cuts you off. “Don’t- You’re- you’re not hurting me,” he tells you. 

“Are you sure? Really, if this isn’t comfortable-”

Frankie sits up a little straighter, a little taller now, his face closer to yours. He stops your rambling again. “Querida, does it feel like I’m uncomfortable?” He asks, voice an octave lower. 

As soon as the question leaves his lips, you realize how hard he feels beneath you. You realize then, too, that his gaze isn’t pained. No, it’s aroused. Your heart skips a beat, a tiny squeak of an oh escapes you. “No, I guess- I guess not,” you whisper. 

Suddenly, Frankie’s clearing his throat, trying to erase his dirty mind to help you satisfy your s’more craving. He reaches to the seat beside him, grabbing the graham cracker rectangle and breaking it in half, laying a piece of already semi-melted chocolate onto the cracker before he sandwiches the marshmallow, squishing it tightly so you can pull the skewer out. 

Setting the skewer down, you grab the s’more from him, taking your first bite. As you relish the pleasure hitting your taste buds, Frankie’s hands are on a mission, settling on the insides of your thighs and pushing them open, guiding each of your legs to sit on the outside of his. He doesn’t go further yet, just sits there rubbing on your thighs as you eat. 

Halfway through your dessert, you feel his hand start to make its way higher, his large hand cupping the entirety of your mound through your pants, his tongue licking a stripe up your neck. 

“Frankie,” you whimper, pausing your work on your s’more. 

“Shh, just-” he breathes, rubbing your clothed pussy in a slow, circular motion as he speaks. “Just finish your s’more, baby, don’t mind me.” 

You can’t help the way your hips thrust into his hand, your body already hotter than the fire burning not even 3 feet away from you. “Please,” you cry again. 

“Finish it, baby, I’ll give you what you want when you do,” he breathes. You can feel his cock twitch underneath your ass, only spurring you on more. 

Utterly distracted, you didn’t realize just how tight you’re squeezing the poor sandwich, so a big glob of melted chocolate plops right on your face—from your bottom lip down to your chin. 

A frustrated huff of disappointment leaves you, turning your head to Frankie with a pout. “Baby, my chocolate,” you whine. 

His free hand glides up your body, settling on the base of your neck, his long finger nudging your chin to look at him. “Mírame,” look at me, he rasps, his tongue coming out to lick up the chocolate on your chin, bringing himself all the way up to your lips, pulling you in for a sloppy, chocolatey clash of mouth. The last bite of your s’more now forgotten as it falls to the floor, you reach to grab onto the wrist of the hand that’s rubbing you while your other hand plants itself in his messy curls, keeping him flush against your lips as you both swallow each other's desperations. 

He breaks away, sucking and releasing your bottom lip with a pop as he goes. “So damn sweet, querida,” he moans into you, bringing his mouth back down to your throat, biting and sucking as his fingers make their way inside your pants, passing your clit to lather his fingers in your slick before he comes back up and continues his slippery assault all over your pulsing bud.

“Oh, sh- shit-” you squeal, your hips thrusting wildly against him, the pleasure overtaking every inch of your body. A particular nip to the sweet spot of your neck has you reeling, Frankie taking that moment of weakness to slide his two fingers inside of you easily, the feeling of a stretch prevalent but all too consuming to register as any kind of pain. 

“Fuck, baby-” his deep voice grumbles into your neck. “Feel so good wrapped around my fingers like this, honey, oh, fuck-” 

His own hips start to move, his length rubbing against the swell of your ass, his own pleasure starting to cloud his brain. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees the chocolate beside him, apparently a bit too close to the fire because it’s now a melty gooey mess in its wrapper. Way too addicted to a sweet mess with you, he can’t stop his free hand from reaching over to the chocolate, and squeezing the melted sweetness, spilling all over your neck—his tongue immediately laps it up as you moan and writhe on top of him. 

“Yes- yes, Frankie, please, m-more,” you sob, your breathing as erratic as your hummingbird of a heart. 

“Yeah? My sweet baby wants more?” He asks, biting the lobe of your ear. “Where do you want it? Here?” He licks your neck. “Or you want it here?” His finger makes its way to your mouth, tapping on your bottom lip, your mouth immediately opening to allow him entrance. 

A whimper leaves your throat as his finger finds itself on your tongue. “Oh, sweet girl,” he breathes, his hand slipping away from your mouth momentarily. 

You were expecting him to bring the chocolate to your mouth, but instead you’re met with two of his fingers—completely covered in chocolate, all for you to lap up. “Just want something in that pretty little mouth of yours, huh, cariño? I got you, sweet girl, open up for me,” he whispers, his long fingers already hitting the back of your throat, your eyes rolling back at the sweet, full sensation in your mouth. 

You’re quite literally rendered speechless now, pornographic squeals and moans unrelenting as he continues to keep your mouth and pussy full. A familiar tingle at the base of your spine flickers, growing brighter and brighter as his release approaches. 

Your whimpers grow more desperate as your pussy flutters around his digits—he knows you're close. “Alright, baby, alright, baby, come on now,” he coos, his fingers leaving your mouth, your lips and chin covered in your overproduction of saliva. He puts his own fingers into his mouth now, drinking you in but also making sure all the chocolate is gone, he now brings those fingers down to your sex, rubbing on your clit as his other hand continues to fuck you towards your high. 

Turning your head to him, your tongues meet first, hints of sweet cocoa mixed with a flavor that’s all Frankie—your orgasm hits you hard, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you grind yourself against his lap, his hand and your pants completely soaked in your arousal. He moans with you, his hips shaking against your own as a slight warmth floods your lower back. 

Fuck. He just came. 

You both come to a halt, sitting in your own messes for a minute to let your hearts sync to a slower beat. You pull his hand from your pants, bringing his finger up to your mouth and sucking it clean. You can hear a low groan from the back of his throat. You turn to him. “Sweet,” you say. “Wanna try?” You ask with a smirk. 

“Cheeky,” he mutters, bringing his fingers up to his own mouth, licking your spend clean. 

Too caught up in each other’s embrace, you forgot to tend to the fire, now just a pile of barely glowing wood, a shiver racks your body—particularly your drenched, lower body. 

“Are you sure you’re still comfortable like this?” You repeat your sentiment from earlier, a hint of amusement laced in your voice. 

“Yeah, no, baby, I think we should go inside and clean up,” he says, kissing your temple. His hand makes its way down, cupping your sex once more. “Still haven’t had my dessert yet.” 

You shoot up from your place in his lap, pulling him up and hastily making your way to the bathroom. “Let’s get going, then, baby, I don’t wanna keep you waiting,” you say, mischief written all over your face.

End note: God, someone lock me in a room with Frankie and a bunch of messy foods, please and thanks. Katie, baby, I hope this does our food play delulus justice. Many sloppy kisses for u. Thank you everyone again for being on this journey with me, for supporting me, for interacting with me. I know I say it a lot, but truly, there are no words to describe my endless amount of gratitude I have for you all. Thank you. More requests were sent in!! Keep on the lookout for those!! Please do let me know what you guys think, too!! I love hearing what you guys think about these lil stories :-)

[milkibabe]

♥ family camping trip w/ stan (headcanons) ♥

✢ summary: headcanons on going on a camping trip with Stan’s family

✢ warnings: nsfw

Stan HCs

𝒮𝐹𝒲

It was of course Randy’s idea to bring you along, Stan didn’t want to subject you to his family for a week.

He was glad you came anyways since he loved having you around.

“Bring your earbuds, you’ll need them in the car"

You and Stan of course shared a tent together.

Stan was a pro at putting the tent together since he had gone camping with his family since he was a toddler. 

Stan literally wakes up the latest out of everybody. 

You would always get up early to start making breakfast with Sharon.

Stan unzips the tent and comes out with his black hair all messy and rubs his sleepy eyes. 

“That smells amazing babe”

Stan sleepily holds your waist and rests his chin on your head while you prepare breakfast on the little propane stove. 

Randy says cheesy dad stuff like “ah, young love” and “to be a teenager again”.

Stan always rolls his eyes at his dad being cringe, but you find it endearing.

Sharon always tries to make sure you’re eating enough.

Shelley was forced to go with, but you and her get along well enough. 

Stan LOVES documenting everything you guys do with photos.

You’ll just be cozy in your pajamas, wrapped in a blanket, roasting marshmallows when he whips out his phone to take cute pics of you.

He’s totally posting a photo dump of you two on his insta when he gets back home (and has wifi).

Asks you to go on hikes with him away from his family when they become a little suffocating.

“Are your feet tired? I can carry you on my back.”

You two go on the most romantic midnight stroll by the lake and stare at the pretty stars.

He’ll let you sit on his lap while you two listen to music in the dark. 

While you two are sitting and taking in the view he wraps his arms tightly around you.

“Look at the sky tonight— all of the stars have a reason”

𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦

Stan’s a fucking fiend for risky sex, so this camping trip is his time to shine.

Purposely told you to sit way in the back of the car during the road trip so he could finger you under his blanket when he got bored.

He was so eager to fuck you he told his parents “we’re heading to bed early, its been a long day” on the first night.

It was like 8pm...

As soon as you zipped the tent closed Stan’s hands were already roaming your body.

“Fuck, your ass looks so fucking good in those shorts”

Wanted to give your ass a loud slap but his parents were literally 40 feet away outside the tent.

Opted to biting and marking up your body instead. 

As soon as you got a little too vocal he’d grab your jaw with his hand and hush you. 

“Do you want my parents to know just how much of a slut you are for me?”

You’d of course shake your head no, which would make him give you a quiet chuckle.

“Then be a good girl and be quiet for me.”

He says that but would go right back to making it impossible to stay quiet.

It’s almost as if he likes making your life harder than it needs to be.

Slides his fingers inside of you and fingers you, just slow enough for you to always be on the edge.

You beg for him to let you cum in the quietest voice you can muster.

“Be patient princess, as soon as they all go to sleep I’ll give you what you want.”

His parents go to bed finally and after a while Stan finally withdraws his fingers from you.

You whimper desperately but become excited when you hear him shuffling out of his boxers. 

With no hesitation he thrusts into your needy, wet pussy.

He’s on top of you, clamping your mouth shut to keep you quiet.

Tears start to spill from your eyes as they roll into the back of your head. 

“Mmm, fuck, your so fucking tight for me. Squeezing me like a good little slut.”

That was enough to send you finally over the edge as you release the tension within your body into a heavenly orgasm.

Stan cums inside you soon after that, painting your walls with his seed. 

Stan rolls over, sweaty and out of breath.

You were tired and satisfied, drifting off to sleep when you hear him softly say something.

“Oh princess... we aren’t done yet”

Welp... you are not getting any sleep tonight.

[louloulemons-posts]

Could you do a Eddie fic where reader has low iron and is always cold and he like warms her somehow? I have no clue if that made sense sorry 😬

Cold Pumpkins

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count : 0.9k

Warnings : not proofread, fluff, Eddie is just a doting boyfriend, cutness, petnames.

A/N : thank you so much for the request i decided to make it cute and autumny too. I hope you enjoyed it 🫶🏻

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You had always been someone who loved the colder months, but sadly the cold didn’t love you. Icy hands, and a cold nose, along with burning ears and the cooler months were now in full swing.

You and Eddie wanted to make the most of your first Halloween together, decided to go to a Pumpkin patch with a few of your friends : Robin and Steve.

Steve was one of those people who was always in multiple layers, and complained he was freezing still. A thick scarf around his neck and gloves on his hands, of course no hat, couldn’t mess up his hair.

Robin didn’t feel the cold, which made sense, she never stood still, always bouncing around keeping her body nice and toasty.

Eddie didn’t like the cold, he liked Spring time when it wasn’t too cool or too warm, he didn’t feel the cold though. Unlike you, who even in the height of summer felt the cold.

You loved it though, crunching through thick snow, snowball fights, chilly autumn air. You found it to be beautiful.

Walking through the patch, Robin ran ahead, pulling Steve along. You don’t know how Eddie had the job of pushing the wheelbarrow, but here we are.

“Look at this one, it’s so cute!” you smiled, picking up a small pumpkin. Eddie stopped next to you, “It’s very cute, think it’s a little small to carve though babe.”

You poured at him, making the boy let out a sigh, “Fine, fine, put it in. Just make sure you get some proper ones too, okay?” You nodded, pecking his cheek, carrying on in front to catch up with Robin who was attempting to lift a huge pumpkin.

Eddie was in shock, your nose was freezing, how were you okay? You must be sick or something to not feel that, you weren’t whining like Harrington- who actually wasn’t that cold due to the 97 layers he had on.

“Maybe we should head for some hot chocolate,” Eddie called.

“Munson that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Steve said, walking back towards him.

This left you and Robin laughing as you struggled with the huge pumpkin. “Who’s that one for?” Your boyfriend asked.

“Me and Robs! Joint effort,” you smiled, helping the girl lift the orange squash into the wheelbarrow.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, as it wobbled under the weight of the vegetable. “Sorry Munson,” Robin laughed, walking ahead to catch up with Steve - mainly to tease him.

“You need help?” you asked.

“I got it don’t worry,” he smiled, turning the wheelbarrow around so you could head back towards the cafe at the other end of the vegetable farm.

You went to hold the front of it so you could steer Eddie down the field, taking off your glove so you could hold onto the metal properly.

“Hey!” he said.

“Hm?”

“Put that back on, you’ll get frostbite and loose all your little fingers.” You rolled your eyes, but listened to the boy.

The walk back to the cafe wasn’t that far away, as it had to be accessible to the families who brought their young kids.

The cafe wasn’t too busy, but there were not seats inside. “Me and Robs will find us somewhere to sit,” You said to the boys, the pair nodded. “Okay Munson, hand it over,” Robin said trying to take the wheelbarrow from him.

“Robs, you’ll kill someone,” he said, moving her hands away and motioning to you. “You got it?” he asked. Humming, you nodded your head “I’m strong.”

“Don’t I know it. Cream and marshmallows?”

“Please.”

“Same for me,” Robin spoke.

“Okay, be back in a sec,” he smiled, kissing your head.

“You guys are so cute, it makes me sick.”

“As if you and Vickie are any better!” That made Robin chuckle, as you made your way to a table. “She’s sorry she couldn’t make it, college and all that.”

“I get the feeling. I’m surprised the four of us got to do it. Shame Nancy and Jonathan couldn’t make it either.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The boys were back soon enough, Eddie handing you your hot chocolate and slid into the picnic table next to you. Taking a sip you hummed, “Thank you.”

“Course.”

The cold air blew again, making your hair flutter, putting your hot chocolate down you pulled your hat over your ears and snuggled into your scarf trying to hide from the burning sensation.

“I can’t wait for summer,” Steve said, pulling at his own scarf. “It’s October, it’s only just stopped being Summer! You two boys are so whiny,” Robin said.

“Hey I love Halloween and stuff, just Spring time is my favourite,” Eddie held his hands up. “I hope it snows this year,” you said, making Steve groan, “Don’t wish that on us!”

Eddie noticed you rubbing your gloved hands together, trying to get some heat. He placed his own drink down, taking your hands in his, blowing warm air onto them.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Mhm just chilly.” Eddie nodded, shrugging his arms out of one of his jackets, he had a hoodie on underneath, along with a thick t-shirt.

He draped it over your shoulders, pulling you in under his arm so you could nuzzle into his chest. One arm wrapped around his waist while the other, held his jacket close. “Better?” he spoke into your hair.

“Much, thanks baby.”

“Of course,” another peck was placed on your head, warm on your chilly skin.

“Robin?” Steve began.

“Don’t even think about it Dingus.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

Please leave any requests 🤍

[monsterinmyboxers]

STRESS RELIEF. craig cahn x male reader. — ft. thigh-fucking + praise + self-facial.

this camping trip seemed to help craig a lot more than either of you expected.

the first time you saw him, it seemed that he had it all together. he had matured greatly since college, that much was obvious. it was honestly impressive how much he grew over the years, considering how he used to be.

but, the more he opened up, the more you felt the need to take care of him. in more ways than one.

he was fully capable, and you knew that, yet the urge to give him everything and more was strong. might be a dad thing, or you love him more than you originally thought. it was probably both.

you both sat in content silence for a moment, after you gave some much needed words of confirmation and comfort, only small crackles of the campfire heard. this night made craig realize how tired he really was, and that you could remind him to reward himself with a break or two. you could muffle that voice in his head saying he doesn't deserve it.

"if you could only see yourself the way i see you."

he was staring into the stars, but once you spoke his gaze instantly locked onto yours. craig wasn't one to back down from eye contact, yet in this moment, he's never felt more inclined to look away. his heartbeat was erratic, his breathing no different, he was smiling so hard his cheeks started to hurt━ and, fortunately for him, he couldn't feel the blush spreading down to his neck due to the fire.

he glances back down at his feet, in fear of confessing to you right then and there. maybe he should've, maybe that was the right moment and he just lost it, forever. no, he can't start thinking that way, not now. he was so close. shit, where had his confidence gone?

quickly, he thinks of something else to focus on, shuffling over to his bag of supplies. "c'mon, i brought dessert." he didn't look at you, didn't dare to, but he could just feel your gaze, all over him. how could you not stare? he was half fucking naked, in damp boxers. you didn't lie before, his ass looks great.

"oh, are you gonna use the campfire to torch the tops of some crème brûlée?" a pause. he still doesn't turn to face you. "what?" and another. "i know little to nothing about cooking." he laughs at that, then pulls a bag of marshmallows from the bag. "well, you still know how to make s'mores, right?"

you both are once again sat next to each other, this time with s'mores in your hands, craig having one, while you were on your third. despite having more than him, you were much cleaner than he was. he doesn't eat things like this often, so you aren't that surprised.

besides, you don't mind a mess.

casually, silently, you bring a thumb up and wipe some of the melted marshmallow off the corner of his lip, then licking it off your finger. he froze at your touch, rough but comforting, just as a dad should be.

and he watches as you take it into your mouth, so calm about the entire thing while he freaked the fuck out.

"the stars are so much brighter out here." your voice was smooth, low, and gave the slightest rasp whenever you ended a sentence. it scratched every itch he had inside him, and made them throb even more with pure need. he loved the feeling. craig, no, don't let yourself ruin this. "yeah. i missed this."

you smile. "me too."

you both reminisced about old memories, until the fire finally died down and it got late. climbing into the tent, while you unfurl your sleeping bag, craig speaks. "wait, where's the other sleeping bag?" you look around. huh. "oh, i must've left it at home." on purpose? on accident? you honestly can't remember what your intentions were. but later on, you'll thank yourself, you just don't know that yet.

"it's all yours dude, i'm sorry. i'll just.. curl up over here." you hand the sleeping bag over. "no way. here-" craig would grab it, but instead of keeping it for himself, he'd unzip it completely so both of you could lay on it. you fit, somewhat. you appreciate the gesture, nonetheless.

"night, bro." laughter escapes you, without permission. you just find the nickname funny, he's used it since the day you met him, and probably before that. "goodnight, bro."

you're laying down, back-to-back with one another, no blanket. it's cold. your body shivers, and without realizing it, you scoot closer to craig. that's when you felt his breath on the back of your neck, he turned over. you do the same, attempting to get more comfortable. eventually, you accept the fact that this isn't working, and look at the man in front of you. and the sight was heavenly.

he wasn't asleep, not fully anyway, you've seen your daughter fake sleep enough times to know the difference. yet, he looked so peaceful, face void of any stress or exhaustion as it had earlier.

trailing down, you examine over his body, sucking in a breath once you come across the slight dip on his side, and his v-line. you want to outline his muscles, feel the goosebumps form along his skin.

but before you could think any longer, his eyes flutter open. quickly, you notice, and tear your gaze away from his waist. by that look he gave you, he knew what you were doing, what you were thinking. there was something there that darkened them, something weighing in his pupils, it made him all the more attractive.

neither of you knew who leaned in first, but suddenly you were kissing, each more passionate than the last. once you pull away, you struggle to come up with something to say, luckily craig already had it planned out.

"i got feelings for you, bro. feelings i can't deny anymore." awfully poetic, in your opinion. either way, it made you smile. "bro, me too."

you chuckle, as craig shifts positions. he seemed hesitant at first, but the hold you had on his sides encouraged him, even boosted his confidence. you made him feel desirable. "you know, talking about old times is fun, but.." he was sat on top of you now, straddling your hips, thick thighs heating your lap. everything felt so much warmer than before. "i like making new memories with you." his hands cup your face, thumbs caressing the skin under your eyes.

this time, neither of you break eye contact.

well, that was until you kissed, never parting for long, taking the smallest breaks possible to breathe before continuing. your palms travel, allowing themselves to finally feel every inch of him. mind you, you're both still in just your underwear. your clothes had dried a while ago, you could've put them back on earlier, but you didn't see the point in that. you hadn't acknowledged it, but something told you that you wouldn't be needing anytime soon. it was right.

at this point, craig was shaking in anticipation, attempting to subtly grind down on you. when you speak up about it, he interrupts with pleads. he had his face shoved into the space between your neck and shoulder, lips brushing against your pulse while he whispers, begs. "please, please, i'm sorry, please," he wanted you, so bad, so much that he felt guilty for it. he was moving too fast, he was forcing himself onto you, he doesn't deserve you. though, when you started grounding him, like before, all those thoughts disappeared. you hush him, tugging at his boxer briefs. "i know what you want, sweet boy. take it."

he's never reacted so quickly.

once again, he repositions, this time pulling you on top of him so he could shove the thin fabric down, nearly ripping them in the process. yours follow, thrown into the corner of the tent. instantly, he looks down, having to hold back a whine as he did. you weren't fully hard, not yet. he knows how big you are, you went to college together for fucks sake.

though, he figures out a way to help. he spreads his legs, reaching over to grab the base of your cock, not before you give him a nod of approval, and puts it between his heavy thighs. he lets you take control then, pushing them together and treating his thighs like a fleshlight. and despite how big they were, he could still see your head poking out and leaking onto his own. he had to suppress a whimper, the image of you inside him immediately flashing in his mind.

the underside of your dick rubs against his, making his hips twitch upward, which only added to the friction. craig had his head tilted back, too embarrassed to have even a mere glimpse of you. you took that as an opportunity.

using your spit, you slick up two fingers, then bring them down to circle his hole. he's hardly aware of it, until you push one fully inside. a loud gasp came from him, lifting his head and curling in on himself. "breathe, baby, breathe." you offer a hand, pressing it to his chest to soothe him, and he lands flat on his back once more. you grind harder as well, evening out the field of pleasure. "good, atta' boy." he nods, as if he's agreeing with you. pretty. eventually, you add the other finger, scissoring him open while rolling your hips.

by now, the inside of his thighs were smothered with your pre-cum, and the moment you pull them apart you could see clear strings still connecting them. you were completely hard, that was the first thing craig took note of.

his arms hook around your neck, pulling you down and pressing his mouth to yours. both your hands take place beside his torso, tip poking and prodding at his stretched hole. "in, in, please." he tries to force you inside, clenching around nothing and huffing when he fails.

"shh, i know, i know.." no matter how adorable his fussing was, you were still just as desperate as him. lining up, then driving in, and you swore craig shouted. before you could express any concern, or even think about doing so, he keens out, "good, it's good! really- really good, yes. thank you."

he was vocal, just as you thought, showing unnecessary amounts of gratitude for something so inappropriate. it was cute.

you wasted no time, smooth ins and outs, craig moaning at the slightest movement. poor man was already drooling. he didn't know what to do with himself, trying to piece together anything to say, but instead he finds something else to busy his mouth. leaning up, he sucks and licks at your neck. there were very faint marks, ones that will fade in the next couple hours. you'd need to thank him for that later.

your thrusts grew faster, harsher, making the skin of craigs ass ripple every time you made contact, his entire body jerking up with it. you didn't know where this aggressiveness was coming from, since you haven't done this in what seemed like forever. you assume that the craving to fulfill craigs every need played a part in it.

and he gladly takes this burst of energy, for as long as he can, though the warmth flooding his stomach was unbearable. "gonna, fuck, gonna come, can i? can i?" the second you nod, thick ropes of cum spurt from his slit, shooting far, all the way up to the nick in his eyebrow. you don't stop, holding out until nothing was left, then slowing.

both of you take a few moments to pant, giving one another a couple pecks here and there. you think you're down, that you can get off some other way, but judging by the way he tightens his legs around your waist, you now doubt it.

"keep going. please?"

[cheollipop]

rainy season

navi | taglist

pairing: jeong yunho x gn!reader

w.c.: 1.3k

tags: so... much... fluff *breaks down*

As the rain pelted heavily against your frame, soaked clothes sticking to your skin, Yunho's humming was muffled by the downpour as he swayed the both of you from side to side, dancing together under the first rain of the season.

A/N: I saw those pictures of yunho and went on a spiral I'm sorry- salaryman yunho coming home to you only to be dragged downstairs to dance in the rain??? excuse me if I'm nothing but a woman in love.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Yunho loved winter. He loved the hot chocolate with marshmallows melting into the whipped cream, snuggling up with candles burning, blankets draped over him, and most of all: he loved you, specifically when you nuzzled your face into his neck, the tip of your nose icy against the warmth of his skin. He loved the big jumpers and hot homemade soup that burned his tongue, and you rushing to soothe it – he always insisted a kiss was all it took. He loved the anticipation of snow, and the happiness it brought, the smile gracing your features while you bounced on your toes by the window, eyes fixed on the sheet of white coating the windowsill. 

However. He only loved the winter when he had an umbrella, which – at the moment – he didn’t. He wondered why the universe hated him while he ran, his work bag over his head to shield him from the downpour. Getting rained on after a long, tiring day at the office. A classic.

“I don’t know if I even need a shower anymore,” Yunho huffed, closing the front door after him, button-down sticking to his skin, a puddle forming under his feet at the enterance to your shared apartment.

You were sat by the window, marveling at the first rain of the year. You loved winter, too – pretending to be cold so Yunho would bring you closer to his body, occasionally squeezing your side; blowing hot air over your palms and holding them in his until they warmed up. You'd wait for winter to come every year just to catch a glimpse of that version of Yunho – all flushed cheeks and red nose, the specs of snow in his dark locks, his eyes sparkling under the morning sky – it was all so captivating, so bewitching. 

Winter was Yunho's season, you thought. The butterflies that he gave you during those months were far more intense, violent, ripping through your insides. You always blamed the red coating your cheeks on the frosty air, but Yunho knew very well that it had more to do with him than it did the weather. You would often whine about forgetting your scarf at home on an exceptionally cold day, hoping Yunho would offer you his – which he always did – and you’d hold on to it until the overwhelming scent of Yunho faded, and only then would you return it.

“Babe, can you hand me a towel so I don’t get the floors wet?” His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and yet you didn’t budge from where you were standing at the window. 

“Let’s go downstairs.”

An amused smile stretched the corner of his mouth. "(Y/n), it’s pouring outside," he pointed at his drenched self. 

“That's the point,” you turned to face him, eyes glimmering, hands fisted in determination. “Come on, Yuyu. It'll be fun!”

His heart did a little jump at the nickname. “You'll get sick,” he chuckled, already walking out the front door.

You didn’t even have time to react before you were being dragged out under the pouring rain. Despite it being your idea, Yunho seemed more excited than you were, twirling you around under the heavy pelting of the rain. 

“Isn't it beautiful, Yuyu?" You tilted your head upwards, the rain streaming down your face, your eyes barely able to remain open to take in Yunho's smile – so fond, so loving; you felt your heart leap at the look in his eyes. 

He snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. "Never as beautiful as you." His smile widened, leaning in to press his lips to your forehead.

You mirrored his expression, your own smile stretching your lips, looking up as the droplets hammered over your face. He admired your side profile: how the rain slid down the slope of your nose, some drops collecting on your eyelashes; teeth shining white under the streetlight. In everything you did, everything you were, Yunho saw beauty. Inside and out, you were nothing short of gorgeous in his eyes. 

He held your cheek in his palm, eyes softening, smile unwavering when you leaned into the touch, seeking warmth now that the rain had completely soaked through your clothes. The moon peeked through the clouds, shining its light over Yunho's face, the droplets hanging off his eyelashes reflecting the streetlight hanging over you, his eyes big and bright, his gaze so tender it sent waves of warmth coursing through your shivering body.

Yunho's eyes traveled down your face, from your eyes, to your nose, then down to your mouth. He leaned in, slotting his lips against yours, and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways words could never be. His hand rested below your ear, his thumb caressing your jaw as your breaths mingled. You ran your fingers down his spine, catching on the wet fabric covering it, pulling him closer until there was no space between you, feeling the even beat of his heart against your chest.

Yunho grinned against your mouth, placing gentle kisses on your cheek. “Let’s dance, (Y/n).”

“Dance? Here?” You raised your eyebrow at him, looking around at the empty sidewalk. “We have no music.”

“Don't worry your pretty little head." He pressed a final kiss to your jaw. "I'll sing."

He took your hands in his, placing them over his shoulders and around his neck. His palms were gentle as they held onto your waist, swaying around while humming. You smiled up at him, tucking a wet strand behind his ear before placing your cheek against his chest. You missed the grin splitting Yunho's face at the gesture, the butterflies in his stomach going berserk, the tips of his ears turning bright red. You moved slowly while you held each other as close as humanly possible – partly because you had both become a shivering mess – humming the rest of the song.

You moved away just enough to look up at him again, taking in his doe eyes as they reflected the streetlight, face aglow as the rain drops rolled down his soft skin. Yunho leaned back in, kissing the droplets off your mouth, feeling his lips smile against your own. He swept the strands sticking to your forehead aside to plant a kiss on your forehead, allowing you to sink into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck, hands flexing around his back.

“You make me so happy, Yunho," you muttered against his skin, closing your eyes and sighing contently. 

Warmth surged through Yunho's body despite the rain soaking through his clothes, and he held onto you just a little tighter.

“Me too, (Y/n).”

Rushing back into your shared apartment, you stripped at the front door, racing to the shower. Yunho washed your hair, holding you under the steamy water, ignoring your complaints about him being cold as well. He wouldn't mind getting sick knowing that you'd be there to dote on him, feeding him your homemade soup, holding him so close he could hear your steady heartbeat. 

You walked out of the bathroom wrapped in the fluffiest towel Yunho could find, quickly throwing on a warm set of pajamas before crawling into bed. Yunho did the same, except his descent onto the bed was much less graceful, long limbs flying and making the bed bounce under you. Wrapped within his warm embrace with the thick blanket pulled up to your chin, your eyes fluttered shut, breathing in the fresh scent of his body wash wafting through the little cocoon you had made for yourself in his arms. With the rain pelting against the foggy glass of your bedroom window, heat radiating off Yunho’s body as your limbs tangled under the sheets, breathing the same air, your face nuzzled against the skin of his neck. You giggled when his body jumped, trying his best to kick your icy feet off his calf as your toes climbed up his pajama bottoms. His fingers poked at your sides, and you laughed into his skin, trying to push his hands away from you.

Soon enough, Yunho would cease his ministrations, pulling you back into his arms, your laughter dying down. Drowsiness weaved its way into your system, your breathing evening out, the world around you fading into a blur as you laid there, engulfed within the overwhelming warmth of Yunho's embrace.

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[raz-writes-the-thing]

Deep, Deep Down (Broadchurch One-Shot)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Your menstrual cycle was always the worst, but Alec does his best to make it better.

CW: reader is gn but has periods (rip- readers just like me fr), tooth-rotting fluff, comfort, idk what else to tag this

Broadchurch Tag List: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Deep, deep down inside you’re aware that everyone’s experience is relative to their own situation and tolerance. You know this, but you’re also not entirely sure that anyone else could possibly have a period this bad.

They’re always like this. Agonising, debilitating, and very, very heavy. Alec was quite concerned when he witnessed his first one of yours. He was fawning over you and itching for his keys to take you to the doctor at any given second. It had taken a fair amount of convincing to get him to stand down. This was your normal. You’d gotten used to it (sort of) and now so would he. 

So month in and month out you spent at least one week a month curled up in a blanket fort cradling a heat pack like it was the only thing holding you back from death. Not even a hot chocolate made you feel better on your worst days. Not even the fancy ones with the whipped cream and the marshmallows. It was truly a cause for concern. 

Alec had started keeping mental track of your periods. Not on purpose, but it was hard not to notice when you basically stopped being able to function like a regular person for a minimum of a week per month. 

Alec knew your cycle was due to start any day, and he’d been trying to think of something to do for you to help you through it for at least three days. There was the standard, of course- the flowers, the chocolates, the hot water bottles- but he wanted something else. Something special. But what? 

Alec had thought about it for a little while before it came to him.

 

He prepared as many of your favourite things as possible. Your favourite snacks, flowers, plushies, blankets, foods. He’d even gone to the effort of grabbing all of your favourite restaurant meals and portioning them up for you so all you had to do when you got hungry was pop them in the microwave and start snacking. 

When you’d deemed yourself well enough to emerge from the bedroom and flop down in the lounge room, you’d almost cried at the sight that met you there. 

Soft blankets ready and waiting to cuddle into. A couple of your favourite plushies to keep you company. A little wicker basket of your favourite snacks. He’d even brought home Indian food for your lunch. The lights were dimmed and your string lights across the top of the TV cabinet were on and flickering softly. 

“I- erm, I’ve got t’go back to work, love,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. He was genuinely apologetic, you could see. And you chewed back the grateful tears. “But this should keep you goin’ till I get home, yes?” 

You looked around at the piles of things. He’d even teed up your favourite comfort film. Wow, maybe it wasn’t all men. 

“Y-yeah, Alec- I- this is amazing,” you breathed, rubbing at your tummy softly. 

Alec clocked the movement and turned around to pass you a bottle of water and some painkillers. Behind him, there was a hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream. Right next to the remote. You were a little in shock, to be completely honest. 

“Here, take these. Erm- once I get back, I’ll run you a bath an’ we can watch a movie or cuddle or something,” his cheeks flushed the palest shade of pink. You nodded, taking the pills and swallowing them down. “Whatever y’want. I want that water done, though,” he said pointedly. “Keep y’fluids up, y’ken?” 

You sighed and took an extra large sip just to appease him.

 

“Yessir,” you said cheekily, followed by a much softer, “thank you, Alec. Really. This is one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.” 

“Low bar,” was all he replied. You reached out for him and pressed a loving kiss to his lips. Alec hesitated to pull away, and you chuckled sadly. 

“Go on, now. Off to solve some crimes, hey?” 

“Tha’s me. Alrigh’, take care, love, yeah?” 

You plop down onto the couch, pulling a blanket close.  “Always, sir.”

[altea-devotion]

Lyney X GN!Reader

Headcanon

Lyney, as an magician, encounters a lot of People, but has his eyes wander in the public of its Last show saw you.

Lyney Who could think of anything else after this Day, feeling extra nervous than usual on his next show cause what if you are here again ?

Lyney Who make Lynette read all the previous reservation of ticket of the first show where he see you, just so he could learn you name

Lyney Who couldn't help but… force the hazard when he have to choose à member of public for an magic tour

Lyney Who basks in your attention, he loves it and wants only this.

Lyney who is so flirty but the second you flirt back or seem to like him back became suddenly too shy

Lyney who will hide is face with his little hat if you even just say one sweet Word to him

Lyney Who one Day, blurt that he love you without thinking, after seeing you laughing at one of his magic trick

Lyney Who disappear just after, leaving you with only Lynette Who, with an blank face tell you that you don't have to be surprise because it was pretty obvious

Lyney Who blush when you run at him, telling him you love him too

Lyney who now follow you like a lost kitten but acting like a feral cat when someone try to take you away

Lyney who will use his magic trick and his extrovert personality to humiliate anyone who tries to steal your heart away. Magician don't like to share their magic for anyone to use,and you are HIS magic

Lyney Who is a little jealous when Lynette have your attention, he love his Sister and normally he would share anything with her… but not you

Lyney who swear he could teach you how to swim like if you are born in Fontaine even tho you are not. It's just an excuse to see your body, he dont care if you don't have abs or if you have scars or anything, he just wants more of you.

Lyney who will always Greet you with a flower, and will tell his affection for you with them.

Lyney who hold you tight and whisper his undying love for you, as he listen to your heartbeat

Lyney who talk so much about you, its wake the attention of his Father

Lyney who beg Lynette and Freminet to talk in your favor at Father so she dont disapprove of you. Despite the fact that Freminet and Lynette already love you and accept you as their sibling's lover so of course they would help

Lyney who call you his magic, cause as an magician, nothing else is more important than his magic in his eyes

Lyney who gave you a ring one Day, just because he wanted proof of his love for you. He has the twin ring in an inside pocket, by his heart with a picture of you. As a promise that one Day he would spend all his life with you.

~~Little Drabble~~

It was a cold night, Lyney watched the snow slowly fall on Fountain as he waited for someone to Come. His nose a little red from the cold despite his scarf on him, he smiles as he sees the object of his affection coming at him.

"Lyney ! Sorry i was helping traveler with a commission"

Say the person, smiling apologetic, Lyney, not really thrilled by the fact that his love was with someone else, especially someone as charming as the traveler chose to smile despite the jealousy growing in his heart.

"Don't worry, my magic" He blush as he talk

"So let's enjoy yourself with this stargazing spot I found?"

The eyes of the blondinet don't stop to admire the Man beside him, blushing when the subject of his affection interlocks their hand with his and starts to follow him.

Lyney, with the help of Lynette, has already done all the preparation for this date. A little campfire is already lit so neither of them would feel cold, a blanket and a tent is already up if they decide to sleep here for the night. He even has some marshmallows. The date is perfect, even though it's not an official date.

The two take place, watching the stars beside each other…. The magician can't repress his yearning to watch the face of his beloved, captivating by the star… and as he watch the little star shining in the eyes of the love of his life… A sudden Light of red and violet illuminate their feature.

"Wow…" is all they say. Lyney, à little surprised, watched the sky and… saw the most beautiful Aurora Borealis he has ever seen. The first too to be fair. In 20 years of life in Fontaine, it's the first time he saw it…

He can't suppress his little chuckle, of course if something so magical happens, it's gonna happen when he is with the most magical, almost ethereal person he knows.

Despite the beauty of the sky in front of him, Lyney wanted to see more of his love, but when he saw the look of adoration mixed with the Light who is almost like his eyes color, it's as if his love watched him with adoration… and without thinking, Lyney whispered…

"I love you."

He would have not realized what he said, if he didnt see their surprised look as they turned their gaze from the sky to look at Him.

Lyney started to panic, what is he gonna do now ? He had said his feelings without thinking ! What if they hate him now ? But As he fidget his hat, trying to search à come-back so he's not entirely screwed… He feel lips touch his… realizing it's his love who is kissing him, reciprocating his feeling, he blush, shutter for one sec. Then hiding his blush with his hat ask shyly

"Can we kiss again ?"

[rosesloveletters]

What Lies at the End of A Rainbow.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 1,668

Warnings: sexual content / smut

Summary: The sight of Reader wearing Wonka's clothes gets him all hot and bothered.

Author's Note: I finally wrote a smut piece that's shorter than 6k!! this one might seem a little ooc, but what can I say? He's been alone in that factory for so long and he has needs lmaooo enjoy~

Edited.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

It was mid-morning when Willy Wonka was getting dressed for another day of work inside his chocolate factory and had come out of the bathroom to fetch something, though now he could not remember what; it had completely slipped his mind the moment he saw you moving about in the living area wearing nothing but one of his stark white undershirts. 

It took a lot to get him hot under the collar, that was for certain, but the sight of you wearing his clothes gave him an instant erection.

He felt like a hormonal teenager, his body buzzing like it was full of bees akin to the ones living inside of his three-course dinner chewing gum gizmo. His ears were burning and were most assuredly tinged with red and hot to the touch; had he been able to see himself he would have probably crumbled with embarrassment over pitching a tent in his trousers the second he laid eyes on you, but as it turned out, he didn’t give that a second thought because the sight of you held far too much of his attention.  His pupils were dilated, almost swallowing up the ribbons of caramel swimming inside his ocean blue irises. 

His lips parted, but for once was he completely speechless. Not until your eyes met was he able to form words.

“Gorgeous…” you heard him whisper under his breath.

Just one word murmured in that decadent cadence was enough to make your spine tingle and your lips twitch. The velvet tone of voice he used with you sent warmth straight to your core which ached and pulsed with need as your eyes raked over his half-dressed form. 

Wearing only his khaki trousers and white undershirt, Willy Wonka was only half the tastefully dressed chocolatier he normally was, but he was all yours. 

Several moves later and you were both on the couch, Wonka in a sitting position with his legs spread and you on top, straddling his lap with purpose. Your tender kisses had him all worked up, his marshmallow-soft lips parted to allow your tongue to delve in and taste the cherry-sweetness of his mouth. 

The taste of him always gave you a sugar high. 

Your delicate fingers tangled in his wild curls and he groaned deliciously as his eyes rolled back and his hips jolted up into you. You had never seen him this needy for your touch or your body; every graze of skin or kiss to his lips made his stiff cock throb. 

You shimmied backward on his lap just enough for you to unbutton his trousers and pull down his zipper while he produced a condom seemingly out of thin air. He tore open the packet, pulled out his cock and rolled the condom onto his shaft. Giving himself a few firm strokes, his head dropped back against the couch and his eyelids fluttered in bliss. 

He was ready for you almost immediately and the speed with which he did things made your head spin, but you could not wait to sink onto him and let him fill you up. 

His lips crashed onto yours like a tidal wave of tongue and teeth, unwilling to let you stop to take a breath as he entered you abruptly and set a deliberate, steady pace. 

His large, warm hands rested on your hips and guided you as you glided up and down on him. 

Willy watched you with the hint of a smirk on his face as he shamelessly made love to you in the openness of his living room. 

This peculiar behavior made you wonder what had gotten into him, but then again you did not care, so long as he kept thrusting into you like it was the only thing left that mattered. Your heightened sensitivity and the force of his thrusts made moans waterfall from your lips like melted chocolate. You had a distant thought of awareness that you were soaking the crotch of his trousers with your wetness, but neither you nor Wonka were going to stop what you were doing just to reposition.

The wet squelches coming from your core each time his hard cock slid into you sounded obscene, but not as much as the look on his face as he neared release. 

His hands slid up underneath the shirt you were wearing and cupped your full breasts, pinching your hard nipples and rolling them gently between his thumbs and index fingers. You mewled and arched your body against his; this reaction pleased him and you could have sworn you heard a faint chuckle fall from his lips. 

He sat up a little straighter, angling his hips to reach your sweet spot at the height of every thrust. 

Your head was swimming with dizzying sensation and you barely registered the feeling of his lips on your neck as he nibbled and sucked on your supple skin. He was giving you all that he had to give and with you cradling him against you as you rolled your hips onto him, you felt the familiar tension of an impending orgasm beginning to build inside you. 

“Oh…Willy…” you moaned his name breathlessly and he thrusted harder, “Willy, I’m gonna—”

He let you say no more; his lips slanted over yours as one of his hands retreated from your chest to rub your clit with his fingers, massaging your sensitive bud to the best of his ability in this position. He knew from pleasant, extensive experience that his hands worked like magic on your body and he could coax you into a mind-bending, earth-shattering orgasm with just a flick of the wrist and the right amount of pressure. 

Your lips parted and you emitted a long, low moan as your body erupted with pleasure and the heat of an orgasm flooded your senses. You were rendered silent as your climax took hold and your core throbbed with each crashing wave and milked Wonka’s cock for his own release, which he was steadily approaching with every thrust. 

His pace faltered and his hips twitched. He was on the brink and could feel a shudder travel down his spine as his balls tightened; the next thing he knew, he was spending himself inside the condom. 

You let yourself linger in the afterglow with him, the warmth spreading between your two bodies reminding you that moments of perfection like these was what lied at the end of a rainbow. 

Your mind was honeyed liquid gold and his eyes which were glued to your face reminded you of the planet, with its trailing echoes of land amidst the deep, out-stretched arms of oceans; it made sense to think of him that way, after all, because he was your entire world. 

Your fingers gently carded themselves through his mess of curls. You seriously doubted he would mind you messing up his hair, considering he had never tried too hard to keep it styled most days anyway. There were far more important things on Willy Wonka’s mind, now including whom he considered the love of his life. 

He wiped his sweat-slick brow with the back of his hand as you shifted your weight and climbed off him, his free hand outstretched to give you support. 

He removed the condom and tied it off, then carefully tucked himself away and redid his trousers before standing up to throw it away. 

You made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up and Willy met you there, his arms wrapping around you from behind. He gave your cheek a tender kiss and he hummed in your ear, a pleased little sound of appreciation for letting him take what he had so desperately craved from you. 

“I would stay, my dear,” he sounded apologetic now as he spoke to you, “but time waits for no man. Shall I expect you downstairs a little later, then?”

Time waited for no one, not even Willy Wonka. 

You nodded in affirmation, “of course, darling. I will see you soon. Shall I bring you some lunch?”

“I would appreciate it very much if you did.”

“Then, I will.”

Willy petted your hair in response and soon he let go of you altogether so that he could finish getting ready for the day. 

He made certain that he was presentable and that no one would suspect a thing.

He ended up changing his trousers because the lingering stain of your juices was still damp and, albeit barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking, lovemaking was a very private aspect of his personal life and Willy intended to keep it that way. He would not subject any outsiders to even the idea that he had an active sex life; the very thought made him cringe. 

Wonka emerged from your living quarters only once he was fully dressed and deemed himself well-kempt enough to be seen. 

You stayed behind and tidied up the living space, not that there was ever much of a mess. 

Despite Wonka’s unusual schedule and the disorderly chaos of his Inventing Room, his living area was always kept neat, with everything in its rightful place. 

As quickly as the interaction had occurred was it over with and you were still puzzling over what had come over your beloved chocolatier that made him so susceptible to the desire for physical intimacy. 

Perhaps the reason would make itself known, but if you had to bet, Willy was not going to be forthcoming about what had gotten him so hot and bothered. 

He was a man constantly changing, taken by whims here and there, wherever the wind blew him. 

He made up his own mind about things and if one was not swift enough to follow him, it was best to keep in mind that there would be no explanation. 

It was one of the things that made you love him so fiercely.

He answered to no one. 

You thought that made it even more special when he chose to answer only to you.