#or tucked underneath the pillow beneath his head.

[hartxstarr-art]

together.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

requested by anon 18+

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I- ohgodohfuckohfuck-”

You grinned, hips never faltering, relishing in the way the boy beneath you squirmed and clutched at your hips, blunt nails digging into the dough there. You hoped he’d leave marks, evidence of the way had the king of Hawkins falling apart beneath you.

You rode him into his bed, naked in the daylight, the burst of Saturday afternoon sun coming in from his open curtains and the hazy light hitting your naked bodies made it all the more real. Steve was sunkissed and pink, tanned from the summer, flushed from the way you rolled your hips over his, hands pushed to his chest to keep him pinned down for you. The boy could easily overpower you, you knew that. Steve knew that.

But fuck, if it wasn’t more fun to let you have the control.

“S’wrong, Stevie?” You cooed, choking man your own moan when his cock kicked up inside of you at the sound of your voice. “It’s good right? You’re not gonna come already, are you?”

Steve groaned, pink lips parted and swollen from the way you’d kissed him against his front door, a scramble up his staircase as you led him with a finger tucked into the collar of his shirt. He was a mess, wild looking and pliant underneath you, head tipped back onto his pillows, brow scrunched up, eyes closing every time you took his cock a little deeper. He was huge, almost too big to take and his reputation did him well. Thick and nudging up in all the right spots, he’d stretched you out with a pleasurable sting as you’d sunk down on him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, nails raking down your thighs, grabbing at you to stop moving, just for a second, so he could collect himself. “No, nononono, jus’ gimme— shit! Gimme a minute, honey.”

You cooed again, soft noises leaving your lips as you leaned down to kiss him, dotting affection over his cheeks and chin, marvelling at how hot his skin was, how he whined and gasped at each touch. He was looking yo at you like a god, like something to be worshipped, like something to be revered. And maybe in the glow of the afternoon light, that yellow, gold shine across his sheets, they’d exactly what he wanted to do.

“Thought you were King Steve, huh? Thought you got all girls, handsome?” You didn’t offer much reprieve, immediately rolling your hips again, a steady back and forth, crying out when Steve swore, bucking himself up into you like he couldn’t help it. He was unwinding, a pretty little toy ready to burst, all pink and honey, caramel hair and brown sugar eyes.

“S’been a while,” Steve murmured and he sounded drunk, he sounded dazed. He blinked, pupils blown wide as his gaze settled on your bare chest, the peak of your nipples, the dip in your waist, the way his cock was nestled tight and hot inside your cunt. “And you’re so pretty, Jesus, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, you know that? Can’t help it, I need to—”

Steve grunted at he grabbed at you, jaw clenching at he canted up, hips drilling into you until you were the one crying out for him. He came a little soon after that, groaning your name like it was something holy, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you smoothed down his messy hair. He was pink cheeked, surprised at his own reaction, at how much he came, how sloppy he’d gotten, murmuring apologies into your skin with depserate kisses and the promise to make it up to you as he crawled down your body, pressing you into the mattress this time. His mouth was as eager as his cock, his tongue just as talented.

And he did make it up to you.

Twice.

[milkteabinniechan]

♡ sleep deprived - felix

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY commissions // m.list

pairing: idol! Felix x female reader (sort of)

warnings: masturbation, pillow humping, sleep deprivation (get ur sleep!!)

a/n: this is a long one, folks! but I'm proud :) comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Room service, single use shampoo, turn down service. Every hotel was starting to blend into one enormous mansion of anonymity. Felix dropped his bags at the door and pulled out his key card. A green light blinked and a locked clunked from inside the handle.

He pushed his way through to see what he had seen a hundred times before. A bed with sheets tucked in tightly and pristinely. A large television with crappy TV shows. A shower with complimentary towels and fancy soaps that would disintegrate and crumble within the first hint of water.

Felix sighed as he looked around at the all too familiar environment. Only this time, he was running on zero sleep. The plane that brought them all here had experienced terrible turbulence and as a result, he was never even able to close his eyes.

At this point, the adrenaline from the tour and the press conferences was started to wear off and now his body was just running on instinct. He made his way to the sprawling California king bed and threw his entire weight on top of it. The plush foam cushioned his fall and cradled his body and aching muscles in the exact way he needed.

Finally, he thought to himself, while his arms caressed the nearest pillow and squeezed it firmly underneath his head. Felix let his eyes flutter close as he tried to sleep, but what had happened the other night was keeping him up.

A few nights prior, Chan had brought you home to the apartment that he and Felix share. You had walked into the living room in a short black skirt, the pleaded fabric whipped lovingly across your bare thighs. Felix couldn't help but shift in his seat when he watched you make your way to Chan's bedroom. You were gorgeous.

You and Chan had hooked up a few times before, but Felix always came home when you were leaving. The two of you would exchange pleasantries and be on your way. But this particular day, Felix was home. He didn't want to listen. To eavesdrop. In fact, he had made a conscious and drastic effort not to listen. But your voice pierced through the music in his headphones like an alluring siren song.

And that's where Felix found himself in this moment, in this hotel room. In his ears still echoed the sounds of your moans, the rhythmic grunts of Chan as he slid in and out of you so exquisitely. The sounds reverberated in his mind. His hips gently began to press into the king sized mattress. A low grunt left his throat and into the pillow beneath his face. He could easily picture your soft skin and closed his eyes to imagine your sweet scent.

His hips picked up speed slightly while his growing cock was willingly enjoying the sensation of fabric to skin. His sensitive tip leaked and left a desperate little spot onto his boxer shorts. Felix pressed his face further into the plush pillow as he bucked his hips up and pulled the shorts off and into the floor. His hands squeezed the cushion and he imagined squeezing your soft legs, your delicate stomach. Sliding his tongue down to your perfect, soaking, tight....

"Fuck... Fuck.." Felix whimpered pitifully into the mattress as he pushed the pillow down to his throbbing cock with a frustrated force. He pictured your big, dark eyes looking into his as he slid into you nice and slow. He imagined your hands running down his chest and waist, gripping his hips to pull him further inside of you.

The pillow hugged the rigid length of him so sweetly as his mind turned fuzzy and dumb. His tip continued to leak and pour out onto the pillowcase, leaving a long, thin string of pre cum connecting him to the plushy faux cunt. His whimpers grew in volume and length. Drool fell from his lips while his hips rutted ruthlessly into the hotel bed. He could see you underneath him so clearly now and all he wanted was to fill you up so entirely that his seed would have no choice but to pour back out of you.

When Felix finally snapped back to reality, he witnessed the fruits of his labor. He sighed and instantly fell asleep. The deepest, longest sleep he had had in a very long time.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang

[eddiessluttywaist]

the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: romantic night at the trailer, based off of this prompt!

pairing: bf!eddie x gf!reader

word count: 1, 944 words

content/warnings: MDNI, fluff, kissing, lots of touchy feels, a lil smutty?

a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage! also would like to credit @carolmunson for this prompt and @mrsjellymunson for tagging me! I haven’t written for eddie in so long, and this was a great way to get back into it <3 thank you! hope you enjoy my contribution <3

You basked in the scent of Eddie’s bedding, how he was ingrained into each and every fiber. Every motion, every shift of the sheets, you could smell him. He had foolishly left you to your own devices in his bedroom (which was surprising since the last time he did that, you almost dared touch his Sweetheart) so you indulged.

You curled up in the sprawling mess of blankets and sheets then grabbed the small throw pillow you had embroidered for him and buried your face in it. It was a delicate, pretty, little thing that stood out in his room even with its DnD theme, but he loved it. He loved that you made it, that you put so much effort into it just for him, so he slept with it every night. Unfamiliar with the concept of purely decorative pillows, he didn’t realize most people tucked such things off to the side before getting into bed each night. So, it smelled like cigarettes, convenience store aftershave, and his shampoo. The scent filled you with dizzying affection, only pulling it away from your face to then hug it to your chest as he walked back into his room.

“I ran out of, like, nice cups. This okay?” he asked as he blew into one of the mugs and then used the bottom of his shirt to wipe it down. He was planning on cleaning those cartoon-themed cups properly for some absurdly fancy hot chocolate you had brought back from your family vacation. He was even planning on making another case for not wasting it on him, but, of course, his attention strayed easily when you were in his bed.

When his gaze finally fell on you, a lazy smile quirked up one side of his mouth. The handles of the mugs hung off the curl of his fingers which rested against his hips now as he took in the sight of you. He tilted his head to put it at the same angle as yours, his favorite pillow in your arms. You were an unbelievably endearing sight. The love that filled him was fluttery and overwhelming.

“And who said you could hold my favorite pillow?” He teased, sauntering over to the bed.

“I made it,” you scoffed with a smile.

He hums lazily in response, that crooked grin still hanging around as he shoved at the clutter on his bedside table. He picked up a small notebook, brow furrowed as he observed it only to haphazardly toss it towards his dresser to make more room. It was that or your tub of Betty Crocker, and he knew better.

You stared at his forearms, drinking in the movement of the musculature underneath. The warmth of his bedside lamp made it even better to watch the lines and curves of his tattoos beneath its comforting, golden light. How could something so simple be so beautiful? Your focus then trailed to the perfect structure of his hands as the mugs slid down his fingers. The ceramic cups clinked against the surface of the old table.

“I think as the creator, I have some right to hold it too,” you continued to make your case while he crawled into bed with you, giving you that subtle mischievous look he always got when he was toying with you.

His strong arms wrapped around you to secure you closer to him.

“I worked very hard on it, y’know.”

Eddie let out an “Is that right?” kind of sound, the texture of his jeans scratching against the bedding. He pulled you into him with such a desperate need to squish you as close as possible as if he thought you might be leaving soon. Those brown curls tickled your jaw while he nuzzled the side of your neck, audibly breathing you in.

“And it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to embroider all that Dungeons and—”

He finally pulled back to cut you off, smushing his face against yours in a way that made you giggle. Eddie’s kisses were always lazy and sloppy this late at night, but you loved them that way. His lips were warm albeit a bit rough from all the anxious biting that he abused them with. A pleased hum left him and vibrated deep in his throat, his large hands encasing the sides of your face and his fingers tangling in your hair. His rings would probably tug a strand or two when he pulled them away, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

The way your body relaxed reassured him, and he slid his arms down to pull you in again so your stomach could be flat against his own. Then, he let out a small chuckle when he had to separate from you to pluck the throw pillow out from between you. Eddie placed it elsewhere with emphasized tenderness while you stared at those ruddy lips that you missed already.

“Pillow was in the way,” he murmured in a low tone, kissing you back as you pulled him in for a few more pecks.

“And here I was thinking you were starting to love it more than me.”

“Aw, now don’t be like that. You know that’s not true,” Eddie drawled, grinning over that unconvincing little pout you gave him.

He sat back on his legs to move the bedding out of his way, then pulled you forward by your thighs which he readily settled in between. There was nothing he wanted more than to be thoroughly pressed against you. It wasn’t even about sex, at least not always. He just loved the feeling of you being so close to him. The softness of your stomach against his taut abdomen. The plushness of your chest pressed against the flat planes of his own. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way your bodies fit together too, but he’d melt into you if he could.

Eddie was the type to lean into you while you were walking together, ending up so close that his wallet chain would keep bumping against you. He always sought out your hand to hold or your shoulders for him to drape his arm across (which of course always ended up with him folding you into him so your face would press against a Hellfire symbol or band name, and he could settle his chin on the top of your head). 

“I don’t think I believe you.”

You crossed your arms, failing to keep up with your façade, especially with that smile and those dimples.

“Well then, my dramatic lil lady,” He spoke with that same theatrical cadence that he used during campaigns, his brow furrowed with determination. You groaned over the incoming mawkishness, rolling your gaze up to the ceiling and smiling to the point that the apples of your cheeks ached.

“I suppose I must convince you.”

His hand settled on the side of your neck, thumb brushing against the center of your throat as he dipped down for another kiss.

“You’re so corny,” you laughed against his lips. 

“And you… taste like vanilla,” he sighed, laughing with you after.

“Mm, well, that is the work of Ms. Betty Crocker,” you smiled up at him, gently tapping his nose. “Speaking of…”

Eddie groaned, mentally cursing himself for even bringing it up as you squirmed out from underneath him to grab the container from behind the abandoned mugs. He watched you intently while you sucked a scoop of frosting off your finger. When you met his gaze, he gave you a cheeky grin that he failed to conceal by biting his lip and then wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re a child,” you snorted, reaching out to tap some frosting onto the tip of his nose.

“And you’re devastating,” he countered in a voice so sickeningly saccharine with love that you wiped the frosting right back off. He caught your hand and sucked the sugar from the pad of your thumb before you could fully pull back.

“Who knew the local bad boy could be such a softie,” you teased softly, scooping some more frosting to feed it to him. Eddie playfully bit down just enough to make you laugh.

“I believe you mean ‘the local freak.’”

“Mm, tomato, tomahto,” you shrugged, lapping up some more frosting off your finger. His rich umber eyes seemed to glitter in the dull lighting, his pupils dilating. You looked up at him through your lashes when you felt his stare.

“We’re gonna have a problem if you keep doing that,” Eddie’s voice was rough even as he smiled over you.

“What?” you laughed, full of faux innocence. He just smirked. “No, what?”

“You know what.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you shrug, going to scoop some more frosting out when he snags the tub from you.

“Wh— hey!”

You already missed his warmth when he sank back onto folded legs, dipping his forefinger into the tub.

“You’re gonna get your rings all sticky,”

You blushed when that made him cackle, but you at least got the comfort of his body again as he hunched over you. His smile was tangible against the side of your neck, his hair tickling you again.

“Not the only thing that—”

“Eddie, shu-u-ush,” you laughed, and he flattened himself on top of you again, leaving tacky, sugary kisses on your neck while you pried the vanilla frosting from his hand. He gave up on keeping it from you, happy to have a free hand again to seek out your waist with.

Holding the container with one hand, you arched your other arm over him to scoop just one more—you swore just one more! —fingertip of frosting, but he was pulling back before you could even dip into it.

“Gimme that—”

“So rude taking things from me today,” you tutted, watching with a pout as he fed himself some of your treat.

“Have to have you all to myself,” he mimicked some toxic-alpha-dude-type bravado, but he couldn’t even get through it without chuckling at the end.

Eddie prodded at the dwindling supply of Betty Crocker’s then tossed the container back onto his bedside table. But you reached out to catch his wrist and brought his index finger to your mouth before he could bring it to his own.

He groaned, leaning onto one elbow while he gawked at you. His full lips parted at the sight of you, his thumb brushing against your cheek as you sucked on his finger. Damn.

“You never play fair.”

“And you like that,” you stated proudly once he slid his finger back out of your mouth.

“Course I do,” he grunted, sliding the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. “May have taken a few attempts to graduate, but I’m not that dumb.”

Your following giggle was breathy and fleeting as you sunk into the tension filling the room. You took in the growing heat in his gaze that tracked his thumb while it hooked your bottom lip. He mimicked opening his own mouth as you did so without even being asked, making him smile and drag his tongue over his lip. He slid his pointer finger down your tongue again, letting it trail down until he was holding your chin between his curled finger and thumb. Keeping your chin down and lips parted, he leaned in. The kiss was firmer—more determined—and desperate. He was putting every ounce of his desire into you, and this time you were the one melting. You felt like you were sinking deeper into that old mattress, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him with you.

[monarchberrysblog]

Giving miguel backscratches. Idk saw requests open and i just had to. Theres a spot he just cant reach. Also miguel giving backscratches sounds awesome, dudes got killer nails. Tho maybe his nails would hurt idk

𝔰𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰

Miguel O’Hara x GN! Reader

Summary: Your man loves some good back scratches.

Content Warning ⚠️: none lmao

Word Count: 837 words 😋

Author’s Note: Yes. I would DIE to give this man back stretched and for his talons to tear at my flesh and—

This isn't proofread, and mostly wrote this having the reader no pronouns and gender-neutral terms (if there are any)

To my readers who love their baby girls (men who have emotional trauma and baggage), this is for you 💌

The gentle pitter-patter of the cool rainwater created a soft, soothing melody that danced against the glass window. Its rhythmic beat was reminiscent of the delicate tapping of fingertips on a hollow, wooden desk, providing a sense of calm that embraced anyone in its embrace—a three-wick candle flickers from nearby, creating a cozy ambiance. The cozy smell of clean linen immediately filled the space while in a queen-sized bed, someone squirmed underneath the soft blankets and shoved some throw pillows away from them.

Slowly emerging from the sherpa blankets surrounding you, a big yawn escaped before you rubbed your eyes and looked around your room. It was the same old, same old—the cozy blankets and pillows, with a couple of plushies accompanying your bed.

Sighing in defeat, you tucked yourself back into the blankets and looked at the flickering candle. “When is he coming home…?”

The colorful hues of tangy orange, yellow, and red filled the space immediately.

As you lay in bed, lost in your thoughts, a deep sigh echoes through the silent room, drawing your attention. Slowly raising your head from under the covers, you glimpse Miguel's entrance. His tired yet friendly eyes meet yours, and a faint smile spreads across his lips, revealing a sense of relief upon seeing you awake.

“Hola…” He sighed, slowly making his way to your dresser, and dug around for his sweats that he always left behind. You let out another yawn before nodding your head.

The tangy colors that filled the room vanished as you looked over to see Miguel in his Spiderman suit still and slipped into his sweatpants. “Lyla, turn off the suit.” The unbodied AI responded quickly as his suit was deactivated immediately.

Miguel flopped onto your bed with a suddenness that startled you. The impact of his body caused a few of the plushies and decorative pillows to tumble to the floor while you bounced slightly from the force of his literal collapse onto the bed. “Hey,” You cooed to him before you placed your hand on his back, feeling his taut muscles underneath the pads of your fingers. A simple grunt from your partner was a good indicator that the man had a long day and wanted nothing to do but sleep and relax.

“Can you move your hand upwards?” Miguel grumbles to you, face-planted onto your pillows. Slowly, you moved your hand up and massaged the taut muscle. “No, cariño. Don't massage it. Can you scratch that spot?” You hummed to him in response and lightly scratched at the irritated spot. “How is that?” You whispered to him. He only grumbled in response, causing you to chuckle.

If Miguel wanted to, he could sleep through a tornado if he wanted to. The inconsistent sleep schedules were always a concern; however, the man managed to get seven hours of sleep per day, surprisingly. It was at an unhealthy consistency, but this was the first time in two weeks you had seen him on your bed, collapsed on top of plushies and pillows.

Miguel let out a contented sigh as your fingernails scratched his muscles, leaving an invigorating sensation in their wake. "Yes, thank you, cariño," he murmured, his voice low and sultry. He could feel his body responding to your touch, the muscles twitching beneath your fingertips. "Add a bit more force," he groaned, his voice muffled by the fox plushie he held tightly in his embrace.

You complied with his request, scratching a bit more aggressively, your fingernails kneading his flesh expertly. He let out a deep moan of pleasure, lost in the sensation. "There...move to the left, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire. You hummed in response, your fingers working their magic, as you inched to the left.

"A little bit more," he urged, his voice growing more urgent. You complied, your fingers dancing across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath, completely lost in the moment.

"Alright, that's enough," he breathed out heavily. You instinctively hummed in acknowledgment before gently massaging the reddened and irritated area, which offered him a sense of relief. "How are we doing?" You turned to face Miguel, draping the soft and cozy blanket over him to provide some much-needed warmth.

As his hand moved towards your thigh, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation. You felt a firm grip on the soft muscle of your thigh, his nails digging into your supple and warm flesh. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you placed your hand on top of his, letting him know that he should be careful. The tips of his talons lightly punctured your thighs, with the talon in his thumb lightly drawing a puncture wound, drawing a trickle of blood. “Easy there…” You cooed to him, rubbing your thumb against his knuckles. The talons on the pads of his thumb retracted like a cat, and immediately felt his calloused touch.

“Everything is great now that I'm here…”

[some-bunniii]

Even the Devil Mourns

・❥ You awake one night to find your husband, Lucifer Morningstar, missing from your side. You go out to search, only to see him distraught in a pool of tears.

x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n. more luci angst popped into my head yall, sorry not sorry

~ 3.2k words

Warnings: Angst!! Hellish themes! Descriptions of death & Satanic rituals ft. human sacrifices!

You awoke suddenly, sweat beading on your forehead and heart pounding in your chest. The silken, satin sheets slid across your naked back as you stirred. The cool breeze across your exposed skin sent goosebumps up your spine.

What time was it? What was that sound that had pulled you from your beauty sleep?

Your face was still buried into the cool pillow beneath you. Its plush, velvety touch beckoning you back into slumber. You snuggled deeper into the pillow’s embrace, your pulse slowing as you began to drift off. 

And then, you heard it again. Echoing from the cracked doorway across the bedroom, emanating from somewhere down the hallway. A stifled sound, like someone holding in a large intake of breath. You shifted your face off of the pillow slightly, straining your ears. 

Sleep was slowly ebbing from your mind, as you stirred underneath the sheets once more. The strange noise piqued your interest as you pulled the covers away from your face, the room beginning to feel unusually cold.

It was night, you guessed, since your eyelids were still bathed in darkness. Usually, the morning light would peak from the drapes that covered the large glass panes that bordered your bedroom. The rays of light would bask your bed sheets in a red glow, and you would have nestled your face closer against the soft, supple skin of your beloved. His arm lifting to snake around your waist, pulling you closer. Hot breath tickling against your lashes as he placed a drowsy kiss on your temple.

Your beloved.

Lucifer.

Where was he? You couldn’t feel the warmth that seemed to seep from his very being, enveloping you like a gentle embrace without even touching the man. You couldn't feel Lucifer beside you at all, not even the weight of his figure on the mattress. 

The fallen angel always had some part of his body against yours. Whether that was his head snuggled against your chest, or his legs wrapped around yours. There was always some sort of contact with Lucifer, no matter the time of day. 

His fingers always seemed to graze against yours as he handed you another one of his candy apple creations. The feeling of his hand resting on the small of your back protectively, as you took a drunken, wobbly step backward as the two of you enjoyed another romantic evening filled with laughter and soft whispers.

But, now. There was none of that. For the first time since you began sharing a bed, Lucifer wasn’t here to greed your tired form. Which made you uneasy, and you lifted yourself slowly from the mattress, renewed energy feeding your tired muscles as you rose to a sitting position.

Twisting your legs, you pivoted until your feet floated over the edge of the bed, before lowering them to the ground. Your skin met the cold, firm wooden floor beneath as you inhaled a deep breath. Sitting there for a few moments, you allowed yourself a little more time to wake, before shifting your weight to your legs and rising.

Your hands reached for the hanger beside your bedside table, a dark red that called out to you with warmth. The thick, plush garment enveloped your fingers as you pulled it from the hook. Wrapping the robe around your semi-nude figure, you quickly shuffled your feet into the fuzzy yellow duck slippers neatly tucked beneath the hanger.

Your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness of the room, the only source of light teasing you from the doorway. The door was opened only an inch or two, but the familiar orange glow that flickered from the hallway still reached your bedroom even from the lounge. 

Reaching an arm down, you let your fingers gently graze against the marble surface of your bedside table, until your pink landed on the small item of value. Its smooth, metal surface slid against your finger as it nestled around your digit.

Your wedding ring, something you never parted without. Even in a nightly search like this one, where you weren’t sure what exactly you were going to find outside of the safe confines of your chamber. Lucifer had a ring just like yours, but in the darkness, you couldn’t see whether he had taken it with him when he departed.

Snaking your arms together, you held them closely to your chest as you crossed the distance, using your foot to quietly peel the door farther open. It creaked quietly, and you grimaced at the noise. Turning slightly, you shimmied through the gap, the soles of your slippers meeting the carpet in the hallway. 

You turned your head towards the orange glow, that flickered around the corner. The pitiful noises beckoned you as you tiptoed across the corridor, past the large paintings hung across the walls. Scenes of rushing, deep blue waters cascading over glittering rocks as it fell into a pool of sunlit waves. 

On the edge of the large waterfall, was a mother grizzly bear and her cubs, their small frames hanging from their mother’s legs in playful banter. The large bear’s caramel-brown coat stuck out from the sharp, gray edges of the rocks standing tall behind her. 

Her snout was lifted towards the cascading water, her mouth parted to show sharp, white teeth as the shadows of long, pink fish leaped from the edge of the falls, their bodies barely grazing her jaws as she snapped at their forms. 

You weren’t particularly aware of where that painting had come from, but it was a very beautiful scene of life on Earth, a very rare type of piece to find down in Hell.

There was one, that you favored over them all, of you and Lucifer. It depicted a midnight-red sky, the large pentagram glowing above the two figures on a large balcony. Vines snaked around the pillars on each side of the terrace, blue and purple flowers blooming across their green, prickly skin. The familiar face on the left, a pearlescent glow against the red backdrop, wore a playful look on his features. One hand holding a wine glass, the other snug against the figure on the right, you. 

You stood beside Lucifer, a large smile plastered across your face as the two of you leaned comfortably against the tall marble balcony railing. It seemed like the two of you were at some kind of party, perhaps one of those annual meetups all the Sins and friends have away from the prying eyes of Hell. Lucifer’s attire was a more casual fit for a king, his favorite red-and-white striped waistcoat, over that clean, white dress shirt. You were also adorned in an eye-catching outfit that displayed your power and statue of royalty, without making you the center of attention.

The two of you looked so happy, as you leaned into each other with lips curved into goofy grins. For being the highest-ranking figures in Hell, the two of you looked so natural and carefree in this moment. A moment you cherished every time you glanced at the portrait hanging comfortably along the wall during your walks between rooms.

Unfortunately, the light illuminating from the end of the hall wasn’t strong enough for you to get a good glimpse at it, as you neared the corner. You planted your back against the wall, peeking your head slightly out of the edge. You couldn’t see the fireplace from here, but the sound of wood crackling as it split from the flames echoed through the room.

You could hear the strange noises much clearer now, a shaky breath followed by quiet, soothing murmurs. Sniffling, before another one of those stifled sobs. 

Your breath quickened, muscles tensing as you listened for another moment. The voice intermixed with the sounds was awfully familiar, and you couldn’t understand what would make the owner so distraught.

You calmed your beating heart, before pivoting to stand in the entryway of the lounge, your gaze landing on the figure curled on a piece of furniture. Their side faced you, and you partially see their features, illuminated by the orange glow of the flames.

Across the room, was Lucifer. He sat on top of a dark red ottoman, only a few feet from the fireplace as he stared into it, lost in thought. He wore his white dress shirt loosely against his figure, the buttons partially undone in the front, exposing his collarbone. Lucifer’s arms were wrapped around his legs, and his knees were hugged to his chest. His head limply lay against one of his kneecaps, his head out-turned towards you. 

It wasn’t until you approached him, and your footsteps creaked against the floor, did the sullen man perk up from his ball of comfort. Tears glistened against his pale features, and his quivering lip curved into a shocked frown. The man’s disheveled hair bounced softly as he lifted his head, those platinum-blonde curls practically glowing like candlelight.

“Oh, Honey!” Lucifer gasped, his head whipping to face the opposite direction of you. His hand rubbed across his face hastily as he straightened himself atop the sofa. He fixed his loose collar, clearing his throat as he fixed his posture. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? You should just go back to sleep, I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s hard to sleep when you see your husband like this at one in the morning,” you responded, taking a few steps closer. Your tone was firm, prompting him to speak more on the subject. 

Lucifer stayed silently, the only noise between the two of you were soft pops and crackles from the burning wood. Fear gnawed at you watching him ignore your words. Your husband always tried to hide his emotions at first, masking them behind a smile while he let his mind drift off to such dark thoughts. Except, with you, he always came undone and spilled the beans like a teenage girl at a sleepover.

But, your presence was not breaking him just yet, as he averted his gaze. In the faint light, you swore his fingers were shaking just a tad against the fabric of his shirt. Should you prod him further? There was no way you were going to leave him to drown in whatever sorrows he was battling right now.

“It happened again,” Lucifer finally breathed out after a moment. His fingers harshly squeezed the sleeves of his dress shirt, his chest shuddering as he inhaled another shaky breath. His eyes were still trained on the flames licking against the metal barrier, as he refused to meet your gaze.

You stood there, your arms crossed against your chest as you shivered. The heat of the fireplace felt so welcoming to your tired bones, but the sight of Lucifer sullen upon the ottoman kept your feet frozen in place.

“What happened again?” You whispered, taking a step forward, careful not to cross any boundary that could set your husband off further. This was a side of him you rarely saw. Yes, he was an emotional being, but the distress Lucifer was exuding was making you more nervous after every second he remained silent.

“I was summoned, to one of those… rituals.” Lucifer spat out that last word with disgust, a growl underlying his tone.

You tensed. Oh, one of those.

Since Lucifer fell, and became the King of Hell, his soul was chained to the realm. Unable to cross to Heaven or Earth, even with another’s magic. The fallen angel was stuck, cursed to watch the cruelty and hate that sprung from his past actions.

Except, through the slaughter of a newly-born lamb, could he enter into the mortal plane. Only to answer the call of whoever had landed the killing blow. Something about being punished to only view your creation through ‘the blood of the innocent’ or some stupid Heavenly shit like that. You never asked him what transpired during those summonings, and he never spoke of it.

There was one kind of summoning, that you knew of, that was different from the rest. Cults that worshipped demons and monsters, perpetuated suffering in exchange for a supposed blessing from the fiery pits below. Lucifer always seemed… off, after those times.

“I always feel it, before it happens,” your husband started, his hand raking across his scalp as he pulled the tangled blonde mess behind his forehead. “Like a tugging at my shirt, but from deep inside, like my soul. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I ran to the bathroom. Just as I was pulled through the portal to Earth.”

Those images flashed through Lucifer’s mind as he spoke. Large, crumbling pillars dot the perimeter. Torches circled a thick, wooden stake planted into the ground. Satanic symbols were woven into posts and burned into the ground around the grassy, hidden clearing.

A bloodied figure lay limp against its surface, rope wrapping around their thin frame as it kept them in place. Flames licked at their feet, the stake beginning to catch fire as they writhed in pain from the intense heat.

Hooded. figures stood in the shadows, chanting some awful, ancient tune. Asking for blessings and powers Lucifer couldn’t even grant them.

“It was a girl, I don’t know how old. But, she was young, not even full grown,” Lucifer started, his voice shaky as the words slipped painfully from his tongue, “When I got there, she was already burning. Screaming in agony, pleading for mercy.”

You grimaced, trying not to picture the scene. The metallic tang of blood that no doubt had permeated the air. The stench of burning flesh, as it sizzled off its owner. 

Bile rose in your throat, threatening to spill from your mouth before you held it in. Leaving you to wonder how many times Lucifer had witnessed such a thing to have better composure to the scene than you.

“Do you know who she cried out to during her last moments?” Lucifer turned to you, his features glowing as his eyes glistened with tears. A bitter smile bloomed on his lips, a dark chuckle escaping his throat. “God! She begged Him to save her! To strike those hooded men down and end her suffering.” 

You said nothing, instead taking a few steps closer to your husband's quivering form, only a few feet from him now as Lucifer spoke with a pained tone.

“Do you know what ended her suffering? The flames that ate away her skin.” He snarled, his eyes turning blood-red as he pivoted towards you. You reeled back, your heartbeat quickening at his bared teeth.

“There was nothing I could—nothing I can do,” He cried to you, his tone wobbly, desperate. As if he was trying to convince you that was the truth, that he didn’t let such terrible actions go unpunished purposely. “I’m always too late when they call for me. Too much damage already.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you listened to him. You would have never had that kind of idea in your head, you knew Lucifer wasn’t that twisted of a man. 

“And imagine, when those bastards finally kick the bucket, they’ll come here,” Lucifer spat hoarsely, venom dripping from his words, “another citizen that I’m expected to protect and rule over. I’m expected to care about, as King. What a cruel joke Heaven has played on me.”

Lucifer sat there for a moment, breathing heavily. His horns jutted out of his head as he fumed silently at himself. Those tears threatened to spill from his pretty eyes once more as he lifted a hand with an anguished growl, and Lucifer raked his claws down his face. 

You gasped, watching blood spill from the small gashes across his cheek, glowing sickly against the blazing light from the fireplace.

“Don’t do that!” You begged, lacing your fingers with his, pulling his hand to your chest as you kneeled before him. The golden liquid spread across your fingertips from his damp claws, and your face screwed into anguish, “Don’t hurt yourself, none of this is your fault. Absolutely none..”

Your finger rubbed against a small, smooth surface on Lucifer’s hand. Glancing down, your eyes followed the glint of his wedding ring as it shined in the basking light. Your heart fluttered, and you sighed.

Slowly, you lifted your other hand to his face. Lucifer leaned back slightly, hesitant at your touch. He broke a moment later, squeezing his eyes shut as he brushed his cheek against your open hand. Your nails grazed lightly against his skin, the damp feeling only driving your own tears.

“Do you know what it feels like, to watch innocent people be burned alive to please some sick, twisted version of me?” Lucifer whispered into your palm, tears pooling against your skin as he blinked them away.

You pursued your lips, the agony on his face clenching your heart tightly.

“Those defenseless men and women, sentenced to death simply for theatrics.” Lucifer whimpered, and you slid your hand from his fingers to rest against his other cheek. 

“All those children—”

Lucifer choked on the last word, a sob escaping his throat as he struggled to contain the shakes racking across his body. 

In a swift motion, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling the fallen angel flush against you. This time, there was no fuss from him as he collapsed into your hold. 

You held him, as he sobbed. Painful, heartbreaking cries of grief. As Lucifer mourned the lives that were destroyed in his name, for an image that didn’t exist. 

You shook against him, ceasing the noises that threatened to escape your aching throat. You only bit your lip harshly, tasting blood drip flood your tastebuds. You ignored the pain blooming in your mouth, staying silent as Lucifer began to calm in your grasp.

All because he wanted mankind to be able to express themselves outside of Heaven’s strict rules and suffocating influence.

“I gave them a chance to do so much more,” he whispered against your skin. His head lay limply against your shoulder as he sobbed quietly. “And, they fucked it up.”

“Please don’t cry,” you whispered hoarsely into his hair, inhaling the deep scent of apples and cinnamon as you hugged him tightly. “I’m here for you, as always. You don’t need to hide your grief from me.”

“I know, I'm sorry.” He replied quietly, his fingers rubbing soothing circles against your upper back. The weight against you grew heavier, as he fell completely limp against your hold, his hand coming down to rest against your waist. 

“I’m just so tired.” He muttered into the crook of your neck, and you pulled him closer.

“Sleep, I’m right here. Just rest your eyes, for me.” You begged your lover.

Lucifer nodded into your skin, before you felt him curl farther into you. You nestled closer into his hair, your back against the ottoman now, as you let the heat of the fire dry your soaked cheeks.

Oh, how cruel Heaven truly is, to give such a fate to such a loving soul. 

And now, you’d make sure he would never feel so alone in his pain again. A silent promise to your husband, as you drifted into bliss-less sleep.

YOU GUYS. this idea had me by the chokehold suddenly after work, and i wrote it in one sitting, my ass hurts yall 😂

also, don’t worry, that alastor fic is still coming! i’m about halfway done, so stay tuned for that next :)

what do you think? let me know your thoughts! <3

tag list 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma-archive @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @thy-tortured-poet @th3-st4r-gur1 @astro-raven-power @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @enigmatic-blues

[cal-flakes]

could you maybe do reader using her safe word with dealer!rafe ,, love your writing you are amazing

<3333

╰┈➤ safe word w rafe

warnings: smut, overstimulation, use of safe word, fluff after.

summary: y/n uses the safe word for the first time.

her thighs had been trembling for what felt like hours as tears cascaded down her face continuously. her hands tangled in his hair as he lapped at her folds, circling her clit with his thumb.

the overstimulation invaded her senses as her frame vibrated underneath his rough grip. the sheet beneath her was soaked with tears, perspiration and cum. his need to please her was endless, and sometimes too much to handle.

her thoughts were cloudy, unable to speak or think. her chest heaved as she neared yet another release, her grip on his hair tightening.

“you gonna cum for me baby?” he growled, the vibrations against her folds causing her hips to buck involuntarily. “fuck..” she whimpered, unable to string any other words together.

her body fell limp as her walls clenched around his fingers, letting out a hoarse cry of release.

“r-rafe..i can’t..” she whispered, looking down at him in plea as he continued rolling his tongue around her sensitive clit, his hearing muffled by her thighs.

continuing her attempts to grab his attention, her vision became spotty as her heart beat furiously in her chest. in a panic, she let out a yell.

“p-pineapple!” she shrieked in a moment of strength, quickly dropping her head back down against the pillow.

instinctively, rafe stopped all movements and immediately retracted his hands from her core, concern settling over his brows.

crawling further up the bed, he rested against the headboard as he pulled her deadweight on top of him. he cradled her head, stroking her hair as she curled up between his legs.

“i’m sorry angel, are you okay?” he cooed, guilt washing over him as he saw the affect all those orgasms had on her.

if he didn’t know any better, he could’ve mistaken her quivering frame for a seizure, tears now drying down her neck, settling around the purple marks he’d left earlier.

still unable to muster the strength for words, she nodded her head against his stomach. he sighed as he pulled the covers around her bare body, tucking her in while his fingers danced along her skin.

he slid out from beneath the covers, intending to retrieve some water and a snack to keep her awake. a frail hand clasped around his wrist as she let out a quiet whimper, her eyes peaking over the covers.

“i’m not leaving baby, i’m just getting you some water..” he assured, squatting down to press a gentle kiss to her head.

while he disappeared downstairs, she lay there, bundled up in the covers, desperately trying to clear her thoughts.

after a minute or so, he returned with some chocolate and a glass of water with a straw. setting the chocolate aside, he bent down again, guiding the straw through her lips.

“just sips baby, not too much..” he soothed, holding the cup for her. pulling away gently, she met his eyes through her lashes while the cold liquid coated her dry throat.

his concerned expression softened at the sight of her, her doe eyes so glassy, lacking any thoughts behind them. “too much for you princess?” he sighed, staring at her exhausted body.

nodding slightly, she continued staring into his eyes, still struggling to put any words or thoughts together.

“i’ll run you a bath angel, you just wait here f’me, m’kay?”

[gtgbabie0]

‘I love you’

{Spencer can’t sleep without saying I love you, no matter how mad you are with each other}

Hope you enjoy as always my lovelies! 💕

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You both shouldn’t have gotten so mad over such a trivial thing, though you suppose it’s been building up for a while now, the lack of communication, the missed dates and whatnot. In all honesty, you couldn’t even remember why you were initially mad at him and now that you’re laying in bed with a tear-stained pillow beneath you, it seems all so pointless.

Arguments are bound to happen in relationships. Two people aren’t always going to see eye to eye, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. A part of you is expecting him to apologise and the other half of you is trying to come up with an apology yourself, but nothing happens. Spencer stays in the living room to give you some space and you’re left to simmer with your thoughts.

He was late again tonight, it seemed like your schedules did nothing but clash for weeks and the distance was slowly eating at you until you finally snapped. You’d also blame your own work stress for the anger that pinches at your skin, the same anger that only fuelled tonight’s argument.

Spencer hates it, hates the silence that comes afterwards, albeit arguments between you two were few and far between it still had the same effect on him, the odd sinking feeling that hits his stomach.

You both should just apologise and talk about it like adults, but yet you’re both stubborn in your own rights, and so neither of you do. Instead, you fall asleep alone with a heavy heart, and Spencer creeps into the room hours after with an ache in his chest.

He notices the dampness on your pillow from your tears and it only makes that dull ache in his chest hurt all the more, he gently pushes your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear as he sighs at the tear stains that paint your face, even in sleep you look sad.

You wake up as he climbs into bed, and you make no effort to let him know, in fact, you’re pretty sure he knows you’re awake when he starts drawing patterns on your back with his finger.

You frown softly as you try to figure out what he’s doing. You're about to turn around and complain, and then you feel it. He gently traces the words ‘I love you’ into your skin, fingers grazing along your spine. You feel him shuffle closer to you, and his lips press gently onto your shoulder, then the soft words, “I’m sorry” leave his lips, and you can feel the guilt drown you.

You turn around, noticing how the tears in his eyes glisten under the warm light of the lamp and you don’t think twice before reaching out and wiping them away, he sighs at your touch.

“You don’t have to apologise, I blew things way out of proportion” you admit. Spencer shakes his head, noticing how you don’t make eye contact with him, and so he holds your hand, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“You had every right to be mad, and we both blew things way out of proportion” he reasons, not liking the sigh that leaves your lips as if you didn’t believe his words. His eyebrows furrow slightly watching the tears collect in your eyes.

The root of your sudden argument was really because were both so tired and missed each other’s touch, which in retrospect should’ve had the opposite effect of what happened tonight, but emotions are a tricky thing,

So that’s why you don’t pull away when Spencer opens his arms out to you, pulling the blanket over the pair of you as you settle against him. “I’m sorry,” you say, his chin resting gently on top of your head as his hand soothes your back.

He presses a kiss to your hairline as you mumble, “And, I love you too” He smiles when your hands dip underneath his shirt, a desperate need of his warmth, you just needed to feel him.

“I love you more” he smiles, his arms squeezing you just a little tighter against him, tight enough to make you giggle, a sound Spencer swears could cure all of his ills.

There's a silence that drapes over the pair of you, and it's not like before it's different Spencer thinks, much more comfortable as he listens to your breathing.

You look up at him, and he catches onto the exhaustion that stains your face, before you can say anything he's already speaking, "You're tired. Get some sleep and we'll talk tomorrow, over breakfast, yeah?" he smiles leaning down to press one last gentle kiss to your forehead, and you would be lying if you said the idea of breakfast with Spencer didn't make you feel a little giddy.

So you whisper a quiet 'Okay' before drifting off in his arms. and you both make a silent promise to talk about it tomorrow, like adults.

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[timedhoney]

MDNI.

His parents are in the next room over, you think tiredly. You’ll have to be quiet.

The warming yellow glow of the bedside lamp soothes the gentle planes of haechan’s face. He seems to glow from within anyway, soft light or no. The endearment in his eyes as he looks at how your hair is splayed across his pillow. Your heartbeat thumping as though time has been honeyed. You reach up for an open mouthed kiss, pulling his lower lip into your mouth so you can taste his sound of choked pleasure. You unhurriedly pull it further into your mouth in an attempt to bring him closer.

He’s happy to visit home, you can tell. He sheds a persona here, revealing the soft side of him you’ve always adored. Happy to come visit and announce your engagement. Happy to show you off.

The room is hot, though not stuffy. It’s relaxing, like the sensation of his hips pinning yours to the bed. The warmth of his legs seeping into the white sheets around you. The promise of something firm in his boxers that you’re very eager to explore.

You offer your neck to his searching mouth, a moan gently rising from you as he finds his favorite spot at the junction of the shoulder. Smiling lazily, you wrap your legs around him further as you passively notice the moon hanging in his window. The summer night breeze is warm enough that you get to appreciate how it compliments his gauzy curtains rippling with the wind’s soft breath.

You’re brought back into proper focus as he smoothly glides a hand beneath your shirt, fingers splayed wide across your stomach as he moves up. You dreamily offer up the sound of his name he slides further up, up, up under your soft tshirt and finally teasingly pinches at the soft underside of your tits.

You look at him scoldingly but he just laughs, and those mischievous eyes dance underneath the hem of your shirtas he nips at the site in apology. Pulling at his hair seems a fitting punishment. His breathy moan only confirms this.

His hands now wander to your waistband, pulling his old boxers smoothly down your legs as he dramatically throws the duvet back. Tongue warm and wet as he licks you in a way that takes everything away from you. Hands still in his hair as you urge him to suck on your clit.

He doesn't need any urging. A hint of teasing teeth before he has you writhing and biting your lip to keep quiet. You like it best when you can feel his hint of a smile as he buries his face further.

He brings you to a gentle orgasm, rolling rhythmically not unlike the ocean's tides, you muse. He has the effect of making you think these types of sugary thoughts. Only then does he rise back up to kiss you, lips holding that beautiful sheen that makes your kiss that much dirtier.

The first glide of him into you is something you frequently daydream of. Haechan's appreciative whine and whisper of "so fucking good" tells you he feels the same way. One hand holding onto his bed frame in desperate hopes it doesn't squeak. His hair curls around his neck in sweaty effort and you laugh at how this makes you wetter.

Eventually he crushes you in an embrace, hips rutting in the delicious way that tells you he's close. This is always your favorite part, and you close your eyes to catalogue the sensation. The head of his dick catching you in just the right way. How his back muscles ripple against your fingers, skin tan and smooth. The way his thrusts turn to desperate scoops, like a teenage boy humping against your leg. How his voice cracks when he says he's close. How could you say no when he asks, "inside?" You wouldn't want to make a mess in his parents home, after all. How he shudders as he comes in you as deeply as he can. How he uses his fingers to scoop his cum out of you, spreading it glistening over your clit as he makes quick work of a second orgasm for you.

You tuck him in as you head to the bathroom to pee, pressing your lips to his forehead.

By the time you return his breathing is already deep and regular. You toss your leg over his hip as you slide back into bed and let the way his chest rises and falls take you to your dreams.

[micropoe10]

Desire at Daybreak ~ Astarion x Reader

Summary: Just a short morning drabble with you waking up to Astarion starring at you in bed. Do you cuddle? Do you kiss? Anything can happen in the early morning hours. Thank you to @tragedybunny, @tallymonster, @brabblesblog for constantly encouraging me even if I only dabble in drabbles rn :'D ❤️

You're laying in bed, still waking up, the haze of sleep hasn't left your eyes as you slowly open them to see Astarion laying next to you. The iridescent hues of the summer morning sun cascades through the window. Astarion smiles at you, as you realize he must have been awake for god knows how long watching you sleep and it brings warmth and a faint blush to your face.

Your hair fans out across the pillows as you exchange good mornings, while you stretch out beside him waking up your tired limbs. He rolls over, now laying on top of you. It's certainly not an unwelcome move but you're taken aback. You giggle in your flustered state as he hovers above you. His shirt hanging loosely away from his body you catch a glimpse of that pale skin underneath it, and in that brief possessive moment you want to mark it.

Your body is pinned beneath him but you still can move if you wish...but you both know you won't as he is propped up on his forearm you go to speak his name. But he holds his fingers to your soft supple lips replacing them with his thumb slowly tracing them and pulling down gently on your bottom lip before releasing it. He sighs contently how easy it would be to just capture your lips with his own as he feels your heart hammering against his chest.

He strokes the side of your face with his fingers and then his hand. Your breath catches in your throat as he smiles giving a subtle chuckle tucking a stray curl behind your ear. Letting his hand linger there for far to long as your eyes gaze over his delicate features.

His hand gets lost gently tangling in your hair cradling the back of your head. As he leans in kissing your forehead, your eyes, his lips brush against the tip of your nose before the tip of his own is softly rubbing against it. 

Where lust and passion may have been last night in those deep red orbs that stare back at you. Now is overtaken by tenderness and desire. As he kisses your lips, stealing your breath you wrap your arms around him, your body arches off the bed into his. His tongue teases against your bottom lip coaxing you to open your mouth as he slips inside. You moan out hushed approvals that are lost in a mix of his own...

[trappolia]

IS IT CASUAL NOW? ── ace trappola + gn!reader, 1k

ace trappola has always been a somebody.

he was born a somebody, there is no denying that; not his father's iron fist always reminding him and his older brother that they could not have achieved the comforts they had today without the hard work of his ancestors, nor his mother's soft hands smoothening his messy hair and telling him to always be humble. there is something distinctive to his family name, the consonants twisting around his tongue like the echoes of the eternal city in a dying sunset and the ancient pathways of the foro romano; english nannies and private schools, summers in the afterglow savannah, winters in the north of the shaftlands.

his "first love" is at seventeen, summertime, at the poolside of some seaside village where a distant cousin let him sleep in the spare bedroom. the sun beats down on his nape kissed a hot, angry pink, and he lays on his back for hours and thinks of how the sun can eat him up with her love. he does not remember why or how he kissed you ── beautiful, sunkissed and golden in his memories of that heat wave in july ── but he remembers the mornings after where he awoke to your legs tangled with his beneath thin, cotton sheets as the sun rose in the horizon, skin tingling with sunburn and bruising kisses.

no one asks why you come down together for breakfast in the mornings, or why the mattress underneath the bed is no longer pulled out for someone to sleep on at night. when his nonna mentions how she expected it, considering how attached at the hip you two have been since first year, ace just gives a non-committal hum, and the subject is never brought up again.

when summer ends, ace does not kiss you goodbye. neither of you talk about it either.

this is not to say that you are a nobody, not to ace. he is not so foolish, not so prideful as he was in his youth just two years ago. ace has already shared with you most things that he would not divulge to just anyone; his time, his space, his bed. you are his other half, the same way he is to deuce; the way your little gaggle of troublemakers have tangled themselves in a web made up of a red string of fate. and so neither of you speak about those hot summer months, entangled with each other like pieces of an ambitious puzzle, and life goes on. there is a shift, yes, he feels it in the marks from your nails in long, linear b lines down his back, stolen moments in between classes in dark janitor's closets, your tie and underwear tucked inside his drawer, but nothing has changed. you sleep over, then you're gone by morning for your next class. you see him in the hallway and beam, let him sling his arm around you like you are both still sixteen and first-years in a school that seems so much bigger than the two of you.

you never stay, but ace never loses you.

ace cannot lose you, or at least, he doesn't think he can. he has never lost anything, anybody; not once in his life. people have only been dismissed from his company, or little toys taken away for some time for his misbehaviour.

but he has never lost.

and then winter of third year rolls along, and there is a trembling sense of finality that settles over ace when he sees you studying for what will be your final exams, skin pale without that warm glow months before. he sees you less often, kisses you less often, as even he has to be hidden away indoors, skulking around dark corridors leaves him saturnine and dreading the exam hall and the weight of his pen in his hand. ace goes to bed alone, and even in those few moments where he manages to stay awake before his head hits the pillow, he thinks about how cold the bed is without you.

ace thinks about how this will be the last year the two of you spend together, before you're both inevitably sent off someplace else, surely not together, for your work practice.

and suddenly losing you becomes terrifyingly plausible.

ace doesn't want to be a somebody if it's not with you; he knows this now for certain. he sleeps over at ramshackle when exams are over, but even when you kiss him he cannot help but think: this is the last time, this is the last time, this is the last time—

maybe that's why he swallows when he watches you get dressed the next morning, thinks of your mocking in saccharine sweet just the night before, crooning in his ear: poor, poor ace. always gets what he wants, and the moment he doesn't, he throws a little fit.

that's wrong, ace had wanted to say. he doesn't remember throwing a fit, not once in his entire childhood. and then he looks up at you, divinity in the flesh, hands wrapped around his throat, and he thinks: oh. i've never had anything to lose before you.

“mhm?” you hum when ace wraps his arm around your hips, lazy but firm. his lips press against the curve where your the skin of your waist stretches over your hipbones, that sweet curve. “you want me to call someone to bring breakfast? i think jack can be convinced.”

“mrm,” ace mumbles against the sweet curve of your waist to hip, the single syllable roughly translated to “no, thank you” by your keen sense.

(his sweet darling, his other half)

“what is it?” you coo, running a hand through his messy auburn hair. “c’mon, i agreed to take ruggie’s shift—“

“fuck ruggie, respectfully,” ace grumbles, and he tilts his chin to look up at you, his mahogany eyes soft and sweet and lovely. “stay.”

stay.

he sees your expression falter at the word. he’s never said it to you, not in this context. ace was so foolish to think he could have you without asking, so dumb to even consider that you’d stay for someone you weren’t even officially bound to.

“stay?” you echo, voice small.

“stay with me,” he reiterates, his cheeks beginning to burn. ace sees the corners of your lips tug up, and he thinks he sees you somewhere down the road, making fun of him and his stupidity at your wedding table.

(his heart swells at the thought, endlessly fond)

“yeah?” you’re smiling now. little shit, he thinks in the same breath as: how pretty.

“yeah,” ace exhales, before his heart seizes. “…will you?”

you laugh, and it sounds like summertime and first loves. “obviously, dumbass. i thought you’d never ask.”

(he was foolish to even doubt)

© trappolia 2024

[pidgeispunk]

Pedro Pascal Character Headcannons — Cuddles.

Joel Miller:

Joel can’t help but want to protect you, he revels in the way you fit so perfectly into his arms, back pressed flush against his chest. One arm drapes lazily over your waist, hand finding your abdomen to keep you close. His calloused fingers draw small circles over the skin, slipping a hand underneath the fabric of your shirt. His other arm is occupied cushioning your head, outstretched for you to rest your head on. You’ll have one hand lifted to hold the hand on said arm, fiddling with his fingers as the two of you chat quietly about whatever. Your legs are tangled with his, at some point his hand will travel down and push you back until your hips are pressed into his, fully spooning you now. His head is either pushed into your neck from behind, nose against your exposed shoulder as he inhales the smell of you. Not your perfume or body spray, you. Occasionally he’ll rest his chin on top of your head, but he much prefers burying his face in your hair, trying to get as close as possible.

Javier Peña:

It took Javier a little while to get into the habit of cuddling with you while you slept. Usually he’d just have a hand in yours, eventually letting go of it as he fidgeted in his sleep. Once he had learnt he could really trust you, that you might just be the one, he was able to admit just how bad he wanted sleepy cuddles. He expressed his love for the way your head tucks under his chin when you lay on his chest, curled up at his side with an arm draped over his torso. His arm would most likely be around your shoulders, thumb digging into the knots he could find in your shoulder blades, earning sleepy groans from your lips. One of your legs would be tossed over his, knee up by his abdomen as his other hand happily takes place holding that thigh. Sometimes he even lets you sleep on his back, on particularly hot nights when all he can do is toss the duvet away. Lying on his front with his arms folded beneath his head, your head nestles between his shoulder blades.

Frankie Morales:

You knew Frankie was a fan of cuddles right away, just from the way he hugged you. The way he held the back of your head was mirrored when the two of you were tangled up in bed, letting you settle yourself nice and comfy right on top of him. Your legs rested either side of his body, arms tucked around his torso with your hands wedged between his back and the olive toned sheets. At first his hands would be holding the plush of your waist, thumbs rubbing back and forth as he told you about his day, finding himself rambling about his helicopter for god’s sake. Throughout the night you would slump into his body, head pushed into his neck as his hands moved to your back. One hand would settle at the small of your back, occasionally running up and down along your spine. His other hand would take to your hair, fingers carding through it as he let his nails lightly scratch at your scalp.

Din Djarin:

Din wasn’t too big on cuddles, the times you slept together started as each of you just lying on your own sides on the bed. However, it eventually turned to something much more intimate, and vulnerable. Din relished in you being the big spoon, the way you would croon your head down to settle over his shoulder, sometimes pressing kisses to his bare back and scarred shoulder blades. Your arm would undoubtedly be around his waist, and you soon found he would always seek out your hand during the night. He’d lace his fingers with yours, and pull your hand right up to his chest, to his heart. His other arm would stay tucked under his pillow, a favoured position since he was young.

Dieter Bravo:

Dieter is a big fan of cuddling. The moment you two get into bed he’s wriggling his way down and between your legs, settling his head comfortably against your abdomen. He doesn’t mind where your legs were, over his shoulders, splayed down beside his body, his hands would always find your thighs. Sometimes he’s on his front, head turned sideways on your abdomen as your fingers stroke down his neck, nails tracing over the slope of his shoulders. Other times he’s on his back, arms tucked under your thighs as he feels your fingers card through his fluffy hair, occasionally humming at the way you gently massage at his scalp.

Marcus Moreno:

Marcus always want to see your face, he likes the idea of falling asleep with your features fresh in his mind. However, he’ll probably end up tugging you closer by the waist, until your head settles in the crook of his neck and he’s able to wrap both arms around you. He doesn’t miss the way you slip a leg between his, your own arms folded at your chest between the two of your bodies. His head rests above yours, a perfect position for him to be able to press kisses to the top, letting his lips linger there for a moment. He’s even fallen asleep with his mouth pressed to your head once.

[graves4girls]

☆ my love mine all mine | johnny cage

✮ wc. 1.09k ⚠︎ warning(s): fem!reader needed some soft johnny so this is completely self-indulgent ⟡ be sure to check out my work on ao3 → gravesforgirls !!

You enjoyed the quiet moments between the flirty quips and cocky remarks, ones where the only sounds are the candle flames flickering around the bathtub, painting the room in a warm sunset of oranges and yellows, or the crashing waves in the early hours of the morning, cold air whipping through your hair and seagulls crooning overhead as you walk along the rocky coast. 

His head is resting on your chest, cheek smooshed over your heart with an arm lazily tossed across your stomach, his other arm tucked underneath his pillow. He's got a leg tangled around your own, soft snores slipping past his parted lips. 

You wake first, the arm draped over his back twitching as the warm sun cuts through the curtains and falls over your face, and before you can realize he's trapped you against the mattress, you attempt to roll onto your side. It's futile, his heavy limbs pinning you exactly where you lay, a sleepy mumble protesting your effort to pull away. You slowly peel your eyes open, gaze falling to your prisoner when your pupils adjust to the bright room, and you gently card your fingers through his hair, your other hand crawling over his arm to settle over his strong bicep, fingertips carefully feeling along the taut muscle as you listen to his slow breaths. It's refreshing, moment's like this, where everything seems to be still, almost stuck in time with how serene it all feels. 

His hand curls under your waist, striving to pull you closer as he scoots into you, tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose against the underside of your jaw, the quiet hum of his snores halting for a moment, and you think for a tick that he'd woken up, but he only sniffles, and his lips part once more, hushed breaths spilling out. Your hand tucks itself into the nook where his shoulder meets his trapezius, eyelids falling shut as you drink up the cozy rays of sun folding over the covers and leaking onto the exposed skin along your arm. 

He stirs a while later, wedging his hand out from beneath you to stretch his arm out, a soft groan reaching your ears as he strains the tight muscles. He takes his time untucking his face from the comfy spot in your neck, humming when you slide your hand over his shoulder, tracing over the dusting of freckles spattered on his bare skin like paint flicked onto a canvas, completely mindless and messy, yet still gorgeous, even in it's chaos. 

The tip of his nose prods into the fat of your cheek when he presses a feather-light kiss to your jaw bone, eyelids still anchored with sleep as he mutters into your skin, big hand smoothing over your stomach atop the duvet. "Morning." His voice is coated thick with his lingering exhaustion, gravelly and deep as it rumbles in his chest. 

"Morning," you parrot, short nails stroking over his shoulder blade as you tip your head down to look at him. 

He offers you a sweet little smile, his cheeks flushed the softest shade of red from the warm nest of blankets that heats him up, eyes dancing across your delicate features for an instant before they settle back on your own gaze. He brings his hand up to nudge your chin toward him, sticking a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth, another to your cheek, one to the tip of your nose, until he's littering your entire face in light kisses, pulling hushed giggles from your throat as the hand holding his bicep comes up to try and push him away. His hand slides down to the back of your neck when he presses a sweeter kiss to your lips, and you relax against him, flattening your palm over his chest as his lips move carefully against your own, his slow movements still tethered to the tempting bliss of sleep. 

You loved when he was sleepy like this. He's always clingy and mushy when he first wakes up, griping when you slip out from his grasp to start your day. He'll lay in bed and whine as he watches you shuffle about the room, begging you to come back and cuddle up in the warm covers with him, and he pouts when you shoot him down. He tries to pull you down when you drop one more kiss to his lips before you leave the room, but you know his routine by now, so it's not a very effective tactic. 

"Do we have anything planned for today?" He hums when he finally pries himself from your lips, propped up on his elbow as he looks down at you, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

"Not that I can think of."

You can see his eyes practically light up at your words, and his fingers brush some hair away from your face as he grins down at you. "You mean I get you all to myself all day? I'm not still dreaming, am I?"

You roll your eyes with a soft chuckle. "You're so unbelievably corny." Your hand slips out from around his neck, slicking back the messy strands of hair that frame his face, and you shift your body to better face him.

"And yet, you still married me. What does that say about you, hm?" He garnishes the taunt with a raised hand, presenting the silver band to you, as if it were the first time you were ever seeing it, that stupid smug grin plastered to his face.

"That I love to torture myself."

His hand falls to lay over your ribs as he leans in to steal another long kiss, a low hum vibrating in his chest when your hand cradles his jaw, thumbing over his cheekbone as he chuckles. "Yeah, you must hate me."

You nestle your head into his chest when he snakes both arms around you, enveloping you in his body heat and just a twinge of the cologne lingering on his skin, and your arms curl around his waist to keep him pressed against you, not that he'd ever try to part from you in the first place. One of his hands caresses the crown of your head, lazily petting down your hair as you breathe out a long, tired sigh, eyelids falling shut as your body threatens to slip back into unconsciousness, the other hand running up and down the side of your waist and over your hip to lull you further into that ever-so enticing sleep.

[milkteabinniechan]

♡pink satin - minho

Bf! Minho solo x afab reader ☕|m.list

warnings: masturbation, pillow fucking, slight angst, slight degradation

Minho was bored. And not just the basic boredom that comes with a dull day. No, Minho was excruciatingly, unapologetically, desperately bored. He stared at the ceiling and contemplated calling you. The fight between the two of you was still fresh and new. New enough that he knew better than to try to contact you. The argument was over something petty. Minho knew he should have already apologized by now, but he was stubborn. Almost as stubborn as you were. 

He drug his hands down over his face and let out an exacerbated sigh. His head fell to the side and he saw your pillow laying next to him. Pink satin pillowcase. Such a princess, he thought. 

Minho took one hand to the pillow and gripped it softly, just how you liked it. He missed you. He missed your smell, he missed your taste. God, he even missed the way you yelled at him. Something about your voice hitched up to a higher tone made the blood rush to his dick every time. 

“You’re turned on by this?! We’re fighting!” you’d say. And Minho would respond with a smug can’t help it, babe.

Which was the truth, he really couldn’t help it. The was you’d look when you’re flustered, your face turning red, biting your lip in frustration. You just looked so goddamn cute, he was powerless against you

Minho turned on his side and continued to stroke the soft satin. The gentle fabric against his fingertips caused a sudden pulse in his boxer shorts. He glanced down at his groin, the back at the pillow next to him. He shrugged and let out a firm what the hell? before propping himself up on his knees, already pulling down his boxer shorts just enough that his semi-hard shaft starting to push its way out. He strongly tugged at the silk lined pillow and positioned it in between his open thighs. He lifted himself up just enough to tuck the pillow halfway beneath him. 

Minho smirked at the sight of your soft, pink pillow underneath his cock and balls. This certainly wasn't his first time grinding onto something smooth and plush like this. This was, however, the first time he had ever used something of yours. What would you think of him? What if you came home right now and saw him in such a predicament? The thought drove him wild. He threw his head back and began to move his hips back and forth at a slow and even pace. Lazily he let his ever-growing cock slide across the supple fabric of the pillow. His tip began to tingle and leak but Minho continued his pace, unhurried.

But soon the listless pace became too much and he could feel the heat from inside urging him to push harder, to go deeper. Minho bucked his hips and sprang into a rutting motion. His body launched into a rhythm that he no longer had control over. His mind was taking a backseat to what his cock wanted to do. His body jerked forward and both his hands gripped the pillow for more leverage. Grunts and groans were bouncing off the walls of the bedroom you shared as Minho began to reach his climax.

Take it. Take it. Yes, like that. Come on, princess, I know you can do it. Take. it. All.

Minho moaned under his breath. The words like a mantra as he persisted, his hips fully rutting and crushing into the mattress now. 

His orgasm poured out of him mercilessly. The pink satin now drenched in the mess he had made. Minho fell back onto the mattress and let out a sigh of relief. He chuckled to himself at how out of control he had gotten over a simple pillow. Then he saw the stained mess he had left.

“I’ll buy them a new one.”

taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121

[stvharrngton]

hey! can u do 12 and 49 for the prompts if you're still doing them? with steve of course!! thank u <3

tysm for requesting!! i hope i got the right prompts cause i literally counted the list like 5 times kshfjsks but i hope you enjoy!! <3

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, shower sex, heavy petting, steve and reader are a little goofy

prompts: "i won't bite. unless you're into that sort of thing." and "and where do you think you're going?" from this list (x)

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

Beams of yellow and gold peaked through the curtains as you stirred awake, Steve snoring softly behind you. Your neck lay on his bicep as his face was tucked softly into your shoulder. His other was draped across your stomach, his hand splayed across your skin beneath your shirt.

You stretched your limbs underneath the sheets, a soft groan rumbling in your throat as sleep still racked your body. He shifted behind you, his large hand tightening on your stomach, lips smattering soft kisses along your shoulder and back.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he hummed, voice rough and gravelly, still laced with slumber.

“Morning, handsome,” you replied, eyes still firmly closed shut. You reached behind you to card your fingers through his hair, soft brown tresses silky smooth between your fingers.

You treasured these moments with Steve. Early mornings shared together before either of you had to go to work, lay ins on Sundays when you set no alarms. You loved to just lie in each other’s arms, hands wandering, legs tangled together beneath the sheets.

Unfortunately, this was not one of those mornings.

Glancing over at the red numbers on the alarm clock on the nightstand, you sighed. You really needed to get up and get moving, no matter how badly you wanted to stay wrapped up with Steve.

You managed to free yourself from his grip as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, ready to make your way towards the bathroom.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Steve whined, hands outstretching to grab at you.

“For a shower.” you stated, your eyes rows raised just a tad. A playful smile threatening to tug at your lips.

“Without me?” 

Steve was a picture as he said it. Sprawled out in the mass of sheets, hair a floppy mess on his head. Pink lips formed in a pretty pout. How you ached to climb back into bed with him but you really had to get ready.

“You’re such a boy, Steve,” you chortled, finally making your way into the en-suite. You turned the shower on, letting the water heat up.

He grunted as he rolled back over onto his stomach, head laying soundly on his crossed arms on the pillow.

“Well, are you coming or not?” you asked, appearing in the doorway once more, hands on your hips in Steve’s signature pose. He responded with a sleepy Hmm? as he rolled back over, eyes fluttering up at you.

“I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.” You said with a shrug as his attention was fully on you now. Eyes wide with a grin on his face, carefully watching as you lifted your sleep shirt up and off your body, revealing your tits to the boy still in bed.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m coming, shit—“ Steve stumbled out of bed, doing his best to rid himself of his boxers on his way to the bathroom. “C’mere, you,” Steve cooed, fingers wrapping around your wrist, spinning you into his arms.

His large palms delved beneath your panties, hands squeezing at your ass beneath the material. You braced yourself against his chest, rough ringlets of hair scratching at your palms.

“I am, by the way,” he breathed as his lips came only millimeters away from yours, “into that sort of thing, I mean.”

You huffed out a laugh, your arms slung over his shoulders now, “You’re such a dork,” you whispered as your lips brushed against one another in a kiss.

He pulled you closer, if that was even possible, his fingers still kneading at the doughy flesh of your ass, the kiss getting more heated by the second.

Steve was handsy and you loved it. He loved to always have his hands on you in some way, loved to pinch and squeeze, to caress and grope. 

Your panties slowly made their way to the floor as you stepped out of them, leading Steve into the warmth of the shower. His hands never left you, lingering on your waist as he pecked your lips over and over, in quick succession.

You hummed as the warm droplets of water covered both your bodies, Steve’s hands slippery as they wandered up and down your skin. “I do actually have to shower, Steve,” you breathed against his lips.

You felt him smirk into your kiss as he replied, “I know.”

Steve reached behind you for your favourite body wash, with scents of grapefruit and ginger, squirting a generous amount into the palm of his hand. You watched through your wet lashes as Steve lathered the soap between his hands before starting at your shoulders, massaging the scrub into your skin.

Your eyes fluttered closed as Steve dug his fingers and palms into you so delicately, a sweet little sigh leaving your lips. His hands travelled to your chest, fingers tracing over your tits, your pert buds erecting at his featherlight touch. Steve lathered the body wash into your soft skin, large palms groping and cupping your breasts, the boy’s gaze fixated on how soapy and wet your tits looked.

“Such pretty tits, baby,” Steve groaned, as he squeezed them together, letting them bounce free. His fingers found your nipples, finger and thumb squeezing at the sensitive peaks, causing a moan to erupt from you.

“Steve,” you whimpered, hands bracing themselves on his broad shoulders, your thighs clenching beneath you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, hands still firmly on your chest as he leant into you, lips brushing against yours softly. Steve kissed you all pretty, tongue swiping along your bottom lip as he licked into you. 

Not bothering to wash the soap from your body, his hands wandered to your thighs, large palms hooking underneath as he urged you to jump. Steve held you to him, your ankles crossed at the small of his back as he pressed you against the glass of the shower.

You exhaled a groan as Steve moved his lips to your neck, sloppy kisses pressed against the skin there. You felt his stiffening cock press between your bodies, electricity rolling throughout you at the feeling of his lips on your skin, his fingers pressing into your doughy thighs.

Steve reached between you, his fingers travelling to your core. They pressed at your entrance, middle and pointer finger teasing your hole, eventually pushing inside. You whimpered as your head rolled back against the glass, Steve’s fingers scissoring and pumping in and out of your pussy.

He hummed against your skin, wet lips teasing as they enveloped your ear lobe, nibbling and sucking. You breathed out a ‘please’, a pathetic whine as your lips formed in a pout, pleading with Steve to give you something more.

“Alright, alright,” Steve chuckled, hushing you softly, “easy tiger.” His fingers wrapped around his cock now, wrist pumping a few times as he pressed the tip against your entrance, pushing into your wet hole ever so slowly.

The whimper that tumbled past your lips was music to Steve’s ears, loving how the stretch of his cock inside your cunt got you to make that noise, every damn time. His lips tugged upwards as he pushed in further, his jaw going slack as he made it halfway

“That’s it, baby, there you go,” Steve cooed, praise oozing off his tongue. His hand returning to your thigh, a gentle squeeze to your flesh, a subtle way of checking on you.

You dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving little crescent marks in their wake as you urged the boy to move. Steve began slowly, torturously so. Thick cock fucking in and out of your heat at a relaxed pace, the protruding veins pulsing against your wet walls.

“Steve, fuck–,” you moaned out, the sound bouncing off the glass along with the water continuing to blast from the shower head. The rivulets dousing your bodies, skin hot and slippery as you melted into one another.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Steve breathed, sopping wet hair flat against his forehead, cock aching within you, “taking my cock so well, s’like you were made for me, huh?”

Steve’s voice was syrupy sweet, full of saccharine with just a hint of a condescending tone. The boy loved how easy it was to get you like this, to get you whimpering and breathless. He knew exactly what buttons to push, exactly what parts of you to touch and kiss and usually, you would curse him for it. Until you were full up of his cock and moaning out his name, that is.

“Just for you, Stevie,” you cried as Steve picked up the pace now, hips snapping up against you.

“Good girl,” Steve moaned, the loud slap of skin on skin heard just above the sound of rushing water, the glass of the shower fully steamed up now. The boy’s cheeks were flushed pink, mouth hanging agape as his moans got louder and sharper. The way Steve was bullying his cock into your hole was sending you closer to the edge, the coil in your lower stomach wound tight.

 “Don’t know how much longer I can last, fuck,” Steve groaned, lips searching for yours as they found your jaw instead, “pussy’s too fuckin’ sweet.” 

You simply whined in response, crying out for your own climax. Your fingers found their way into Steve’s hair, tresses sopping wet as you tugged at the strands, pulling a pretty little sigh from the boy. You were so close to the end of your tether, your orgasm right around the corner as the tip of Steve’s cock brushed against your sweet spot, over and over again.

Your hand slipped between your bodies, your dainty fingers finding your puffy clit as they circled the throbbing bud harshly. Steve’s eyes followed your fingers, a lustful haze overcoming his gaze as his cock twitched inside you.

“Can you cum f’me, pretty?” he asked, desperation lingering on his voice. 

You simply nodded, fingers speeding up as Steve matched your pace with his thrusts. The both of you crying out at the pleasure that overwhelmed you as you neared your summit, white hot sparks shooting through your skin.

“Need you to cum, babygirl, come on,” Steve was yearning for it now, aching and craving the sweetness you were going to give him. 

And that’s all you needed. One more circle of your fingers, one more stroke of Steve’s cock and you were coming undone with Steve right behind you. You wailed as Steve grunted, his fingers digging into your skin harshly now, his thrusts becoming hard and messy as your juices coated his length.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he groaned, hot cum filling you up as your chest heaved against his, the rough scratch of his chest hair against your tits making everything ten times more euphoric. Steve lapped up everything you gave him, his thrusts slowing but still present as he longed to fuck his cum back inside your hole for as long as he could.

The sensitivity became too much eventually, toes curling on the tiled floor of the shower as Steve let his cock fall from you. He held you against him softly before setting you down on shaky legs.

He chuckled as you wobbled, holding you up straight at your shoulders, pressing soft kisses all over your face. “I’m definitely gonna be late,” you groaned, grinning as Steve continued his assault with his lips, “and I am definitely blaming you, Harrington.”

[yangfleurs]

skz reaction: you getting scared during a thunderstorm

masterlist

chan

you shot up out of bed as a loud crack of thunder vibrated through your bedroom. you groaned, dizzy from the sudden noise. another loud clap tore through your home, making your heart thump rapidly against your chest. it was 3 am and you turned to look for chan next to you even though you knew he wouldn’t be there, not with a deadline creeping up on him in a matter of days. again, thunder filled your ears, this time making you yelp. you got under the covers in a hurry, covering your head with your blanket as you nervously anticipated another lightning strike.

but before that, you heard the soft and quick pattering of feet coming to your door. the door opened slowly, and as you peek out from underneath the covers, you see chan shuffling over to you, abandoning his slippers halfway as he quickly rolled under the covers. you immediately inched closer to him and wrapped your arms and legs around him. he did the same, tucking your head into his chest and swiftly covering your ears as the thunder rumbled even louder. as it passed, he looked down at you.

"you alright, baby? must've been so scared." he mumbled, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

even if being pushed up right against him was suffocating you a little, you didn't mind it. not at all, actually---you were so thankful for chan in that moment as his palm laid flat against your ear every time lightning struck turned those strikes of lightning into muffled background noise. you sighed in relief, your body loosening up against chan's.

"thank you, I know you're busy." you mumbled, looking up at him with an apologetic glance.

he shook his head, pushing a few stray hairs away from your face, "you come first. I'll just work a little harder tomorrow." he smiled warmly.

you craned your neck upwards, leaning into him to press a kiss onto his lips. he giggled as you moved away from his lips and peppered his entire face with light pecks.

"what did I do to deserve you?" you sighed, looking at him with a dazed look in your eyes.

"I could ask the same for you." he replied, kissing the top of your head. always a sweetheart, that he was.

just as the sweet moment ended, the lights began to flicker. you both gasped, and you fell back into your initial position, pressed firmly against chan's chest with your head under the covers. the flickering soon turned into a darkness that consumed you and your surroundings.

"I think this is our sign to call it a night," chan laughed breathlessly, "hey, at least the thunder's passed."

"mhmmm." you mumbled, letting out a loud yawn.

"come on, let's sleep." he lowered your pillow to where your head was and played with your hair to help you sleep easier.

"mmm love you, night." you managed to mutter out, hearing chan's "love you, too baby, goodnight." before sleep finally overtook you.

lee know

you were in the kitchen, stirring the food atop your stove and humming along to the song playing on the stereo when a loud strike of lightning followed by immediate darkness filled your apartment. you shrieked at the sudden pitch black surrounding you as you blindly felt around in an attempt to find your phone. you failed to find it, realizing you'd left it in the bedroom in a rush to start working on dinner before your boyfriend came home. you took a deep breath as you adjusted to the darkness before finally managing to turn off the stove.

another bolt of thunder ripped through your home, making it feel like the ground beneath your feet was shaking. you yelped again, falling to your knees as it unsteadied you. you covered your ears as you heard the next lightning strike brewing when you heard the beeping of the front door's passcode being typed in followed by a panicked lee know bursting through the door. he slammed the door shut and threw his shoes off.

"y/n? where are you? tell me, I'll find you!" he yelled.

"kitchen! hurry!" you squeaked, hoping your voice was loud enough to hear over the thunderstorm.

you hear him walking through the apartment quickly, arriving to the kitchen and finding you sitting on the ground. he sighed in relief before sitting down next to you. you uncovered your ears and turned to face him.

"hey, I'm here now. it's okay, you're okay, alright?" he looked you in the eyes, nodding his head to reassure you that he wouldn't leave your side.

you nodded back, reaching out for his hand. he wrapped his hand tightly around yours, giving it a little squeeze as you scooted closer to him. you rested your head on his shoulder and he reached over his hand to shield your uncovered ear from the thunder. you stayed like that for a long time, sitting in a comfortable silence as the storm passed. after what seemed like forever, the lights finally flickered back on. you sighed in relief, pulling away from lee know and groaning as you stretched.

"now why did you make me sit on the cold kitchen floor for so long?" he moaned, getting up along with you.

you rolled your eyes at him. "well, if you're actually curious, I was making dinner, but..." you looked down at the raw chunks of meat sitting in your pan, "this won't be done any time soon." you sighed loudly.

lee know thought for a moment before he moved past you and placed the pan in the fridge. he reached for the electric kettle, filling it with water and turning it on. then, he walked past you again and opened the cupboard.

"do you wanna eat ramen with me?" he winked, pulling two cup ramens out.

you smacked his arm, snorting at his dumb joke. "sure," you chuckled, "god, you're such an idiot." you mumbled, making him playfully scoff.

(in korea, "do you want to eat ramen with me?" is a pg-13 euphemism, search it up kids <3)

changbin

you were looking forward to your first date night with changbin since tour ended. you knew he'd want to do something relaxing after spending months away from home so you had planned a movie night at home, with your favorite movies lined up in a queue and the coffee table covered in snacks. you heard a storm brewing outside of your windows, but you ignored the uneasiness settling in the pit of your stomach because you knew changbin would be home any minute now anyway.

and you were right, because just moments after you'd sat down on the couch, you heard the front door unlock and your boyfriend walk in, breathless and soaked to the bone in rain.

"the storm's definitely not going to settle down any time soon." he groaned, shaking the water out of his hair.

" you must be freezing! go change and take a hot shower." you said as you walked towards him, ushering him towards the bathroom.

"my baby doesn't want a hug first?" he pouted, trying to trap you in his arms.

"seo changbin, you get my clothes wet and it'll be the last thing you ever do," you warned him, quickly avoiding his outstretched arms. "shower quickly, I'll be waiting." you pecked him on the cheek, running back to your place on the sofa and waiting for him.

you scrolled through your phone, growing more stressed out as the thunder began to get louder and louder. you began hoping for changbin to get out of the bathroom and to join you more and more as the storm picked up. the sound of the shower raining down soon stopped and you heard changbin come out humming a song, answering your prayers. but just as you began to relax, you heard the windows rattle and in a matter of seconds, your lights and the tv flickered off. you squealed in shock, matching changbin's loud yelling from the bedroom.

"hold on, baby, I'm coming!" he shouted out to reassure you. he rushed out with just his sweatpants on, walking around blindly and hitting his limbs multiple times and hissing in pain as he made his way to you.

you sat quietly, holding your breath and flinching at the roaring weather outside. changbin sat down next you and pulled you into his lap. you relaxed into his touch, his warm skin against your cheek comforting you. he rubbed your back gently, softly shushing you every time the thunder got louder.

"this is nice, isn't it?" he whispered, stroking the side of your face.

"I'm sorry about our date." you mumbled, sighing against his shoulder.

"why are you sorry?" he chuckled, "you didn't make the power go out, baby." he kissed the top of your head.

"still, I wish we could've done something." you pouted.

"I like this more, let's stay like this a little longer." he insisted, making you give in and rest your head against his shoulder.

"I love you." you hummed.

"I love you more." he kissed you sweetly.

hyunjin

it was a brutally rainy day, thunder grumbling like an empty stomach every once in a while to remind you of how miserable it was outside. the only good thing about this kind of weather was that it brought the artist out of hyunjin.

you were sat on the floor of hyunjin's art studio, watching him silently as he painted his newest piece. it was an honor for you, honestly; hyunjin usually hated the pressure that came with having people watch him paint, but he had decided to make an exception for you this once after months of pleading from your end. you beamed up at him, being especially careful to not make any noise that could distract him.

he was beautiful when he was doing something he loved. it was the same with when he was dancing; he would scrunch up his face in concentration right before he took action, whether that be moving his body or his paintbrush with fluidity, and as soon as he really began, it flowed. you were mesmerized by how freely his hands moved despite all of the control you knew he had in his brush strokes.

"you're staring." he whined, not looking away from the canvas.

"I can't help it, you're so amazing." you said breathlessly, eyes glued onto the way hyunjin's hand moved across the canvas. your concentration on him was soon disrupted, however, by a particularly loud strike of lightning. you gasped a little, but hid it by clearing your throat a little.

"hmmm," he hummed, "wanna help, baby?" he asked, turning towards you.

"hyunjin, I can't paint to save my life." you chuckled nervously, still uneasy from the thunder.

"come here, I'll guide your hand," he beckoned for you. you sat in between his legs, leaning your back into his chest and letting him wrap his hand around yours after you held his paintbrush. "gently, just like that. the harder you press, the richer the color." he told you next to your ear. you blushed a little at the proximity between you two, focusing back on the way he dragged your hand across the canvas.

just as you began to enjoy yourself, the lights flickered as another bolt of lightning disrupted the moment, making you flinch violently.

"shhh, I've got you. you're doing so well," he whispered into your ear, rubbing a comforting hand against your thigh. "keep breathing and follow my lead, yeah?"

"okay." you replied quietly, continuing to paint with him. as the storm passed through your area, you grew less tense, feeling safe with hyunjin wrapped around you and hearing him hum against your ear.

"hyunjin?" you called him after a long while.

"hm?"

"thank you for making me feel better." you said sheepishly.

"you don't need to thank me, baby," he hugged you, "I don't need anything as long as I can make you feel happy and safe." he mumbled, peppering your face with kisses.

"stop, it tickles." you whined, making him giggle.

"now that I'm looking at it, I think you might be a better artist than me, baby." he hummed, pressing a firm kiss to the temple of your head.

"acting like you didn't do the whole damn thing , huh?" you rolled your eyes, making you both laugh.

jisung

it was a sunday evening, and sunday evenings meant one thing in your home---game night. you and jisung were sat on the floor in front of your tv, wearing your comfiest pajamas with your hair tied away from your faces. you both pressed away furiously at the game controllers in your hands, with your occasional yelps and sneers competing for power with the grumbling thunder outside. for once, the thunder wasn't bothering you; the need to beat jisung at mario kart was much stronger than your fear of the thunder.

"hehehe, kiss my ass!" you yelled as you zoomed past his character, earning a scoff from him.

"shut up! I'm going to win like I have literally every other time." he grumbled, already bitter about a loss he hadn't even suffered yet.

"I'm gonna win, I'm so close!" you cheered. but just as you began to get excited, a terrifying strike of lightning rung through your apartment, followed by a flicker and then pitch black. you gasped at the suddenness of it all, dropping your controller with a loud thump. you heard jisung scream a little at the same time, only scaring you more. you heard him regulating his breathing, before he spoke up.

"I'm gonna come over to you, okay baby? don't get scared, it's just me, I promise." he said as he began to shuffle towards you. another deafening bolt of thunder screeched, making you and jisung scream yet again.

"oh my god, okay, okay. y/n, it's okay." he breathed, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than he was you. you felt his hand on your arm suddenly, making you flinch a little.

"just me, baby, just me." he whispered, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you against his chest. every time thunder struck, jisung's breath hitched and he pulled you closer as he rubbed your arm up and down. you could tell he was scared too, but he was braving the terrible weather in order to take care of you. as the storm passed, your gratitude for jisung only seemed to grow stronger.

"I love you so much, you know that?" you mumbled against his chest.

"nice to know," he hummed, chuckling when you slap him on the arm. "I love you, too. so much." he kissed the top of your head.

"you know I was gonna win tonight." you sighed, pouting at him.

"but you didn't!" he sang, earning a loud whine from you, "wanna call a truce? or..." as he began, the power suddenly came back, restarting your tv.

"a rematch?" you smirked, pulling yourself out of his arms.

"deal!"

felix

as soon as the thunderstorm started, felix dragged you out of the living room and into your bedroom. he tucked himself under the duvet, pulling it over his head so he was completely underneath the covers.

"y/n! come on!" his muffled voice yelled after you, making you do the same until you were face to face with your boyfriend underneath the covers. he stared at you and blinked cutely, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his body.

"baby?" you piped up.

"hm?"

"can I ask why we're under the covers like this when the sun literally just set?" you laughed.

"thunderstorms are the best cuddling weather. plus if the power goes out---" the lights flickered as if on cue, "well then, we're already next to each other so it's less scary."

"you're so thoughtful, baby." you giggled, planting a chaste kiss against his lips quickly. you wrapped your arms around him as well, playing with his hair. the thunder soon picked up, making your anxiety skyrocket. you hated the way it made it feel like your entire home was shaking underneath you and how it was the only thing you could focus on because of how it surrounded everything around you. you gasped lightly at each bolt, terrified.

"hey," felix tilted your head to look him in the eyes, "tell me about your day. what did you do in class today?" he asked, moving his hand to your hip and rubbing your side comfortingly. you took a deep breath, knowing exactly what felix was trying to do. you didn't care about his ulterior motive, though; if blabbering about your day distracted you from the storm outside, you were more than happy to comply.

you filled felix in on everything, from how you almost missed the train to school to how great your lunch was to nearly falling asleep in your dumb econ class. felix listened to you diligently, asking questions to further steer your mind away from the storm. he kept a firm grip on you the entire time, soothing you by gently rubbing his hand against your back as the storm peaked before finally moving across your area.

"I think the storm's passed." he said with a small smile as you finished talking about your day.

"mhmmm,' you nodded, "you wanna stay like this?" you questioned.

"you know I do." he grinned, smothering you as he scooted closer to you.

"okay, your turn. how was your day, lix?" you pushed the hair out of his face.

"well, I'm glad you asked." he moaned.

"oh god, here we go." you chuckled, making him smack you playfully.

seungmin

seungmin was never a physical affection type of guy. he avoided it and never really initiated it, but tolerated it when it came from you. that's how you knew he loved you; him letting you hug him without seeing your life flash before your eyes was a form of seungmin's love few had the privilege of receiving.

but seungmin's avoidance of physical touch was painfully clear right now, as you sat at the dinner table in front of your half-finished food in complete darkness. the rain and thunder pounded against your window, making you flinch harshly every time.

seungmin was out of his chair as soon as the power went out---always the efficient one, he had started searching for candles and a lighter right away. you could hear him muttering to himself as he searched, mumbling about flooding and how he was going to get to work in the morning.

you, on the other hand, had no thoughts other than keeping your calm. you had hated thunderstorms since you were young, spending many nights even as you got older in your parents' bedroom or with a pillow tightly held against your ears as you slept. you regulated your breathing, trying to focus on seungmin's soft muttering from the utility closet to distract yourself. but as a fast and sharp bolt of lightning screeched outside, you couldn't help but yell out of surprise. your heart pounded against your chest as you gasped for breath. you heard seungmin's feet quickly pad through the hallway as he came up to you.

"you okay?" he asked gently, sitting in the chair next to you.

you shook your head, rubbing a hand above your heart to help you calm down. "seung?" you reached out your hand, silently asking for his comfort.

he understood right away, putting the candle down on the table and tightly lacing his fingers with yours before carefully wrapping his palm over top of your intertwined hands. he rubbed his thumb against your hand, tenderly kissing it. you stayed like that for a moment before he stood up slowly and dropped your hand so as to not alarm you. he stood closer to you immediately after so you could wrap your arms around him.

"gonna light the candle, okay? we gotta finish dinner before our food gets cold." he said sweetly, leaning into your side hug and resting his hand against your back. he lit the candle quickly, illuminating your dinner table with its warm glow.

"romantic, isn't it?" you giggled quietly, leaning against his side as you finally eased up.

"let's call it a date night, then, yeah?" he chuckled along with you, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"then we go to bed and cuddle?" you asked hopefully, pushing your luck.

he quietly deliberated before finally relenting. "okay," he groaned, "but only if you don't make a big deal about it." he grumbled.

you squealed a little out of joy, hugging him tightly, "yay, thank you!"

"you're making me regret it already." he moaned

"no takebacks." you remarked swiftly, making him laugh a little as you both continued your dinner in front of the candlelight.

jeongin

there were many things to love about jeongin. whether it was his kind heart, his great sense of fashion, his dedication to following his dreams, or his wisdom that went beyond his years, it was really hard to find something to dislike about him. even after years of dating, you only managed to find one thing you found less than desirable from jeongin---his ability to sleep through anything and everything.

and that included now, as a thunderstorm roared and vibrated through your home. jeongin, always the sound sleeper, was knocked out in bed, completely unaware of the thunder pounding against your apartment walls. you, on the other hand, stared up at the wall, desperate for sleep to overtake you.

you gasped lightly at each loud lightning strike, being awoken from your sleepy state multiple times. you turned to face your sleeping boyfriend, jealous of how easy it was for him to fall asleep and stay asleep despite all of the noise surrounding him. you admired his relaxed face in the soft glow of your bedroom sleep light when all of a sudden, it flickered off.

you gulped nervously, taking a deep breath to try and keep it together. but your resolve soon went out the window as a bolt of thunder shrieked suddenly, making you yelp out loud. jeongin frowned a little instinctually before his resting face smoothed over once again. you were shaking, shifting around restlessly as your anxiety got the best of you.

"y/n?" jeongin croaked awake, "c'mere." he yawned, lazily opening his arms for you to join him.

"sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. the thunder just makes me anxious, I'm sorry." you explained apologetically as you laid down in between his arms.

"shhh, it's okay. try to sleep." he mumbled sleepily. he covered your ears before rubbing your back soothingly to help you fall asleep.

and while it didn't help you fall asleep immediately, you appreciated how much effort he put into taking care of you, even fighting the sleep he desperately needed in order to help you. as you grew sleepier and the storm passed, you whispered, "thank you, I love you."

and you couldn't tell if he really said it or you dreamt it, but you could've sworn you heard a "I definitely love you more" coming from above you as you drifted off to sleep against jeongin's chest.