#right up there with pink scarf baby

[missmaywemeetagain]

Judging by my feed, it’s apparently EXTRA horny for E hours tonight so I figured I’d make things worse 🥰

[pure-smut]

touch starved.

featuring: Sakura Haruka x f!reader

contains: sakura is a needy, subby mess in this, riding, unprotected s*x, creampie, overstimulation, implied multiple rounds, praise, begging

word count: 1.9k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

masterlist

You and Sakura Haruka have been dating for two months and you’re starting to feel… on edge.

Not because of anything bad, of course. Sakura is a total sweetheart as a boyfriend, if not a little bashful - always walking on the curb side of the sidewalk, remembering your coffee order, sending you pictures of dogs he sees on his patrols throughout the day.

But if there’s one thing you’ve noticed, it’s that Sakura doesn’t touch you.

You kissed him on the cheek once and his head turned into a tomato. You managed to get him to hold your hand for a movie date and he blushed so hard he started sweating.

It’s cute but you’re both adults and you want something a little more. So you start to lay it on thick.

You meet Sakura for breakfast before his patrol, sitting on the same side of a booth as he scarfs down his eggs. You start light, resting your temple on his shoulder. Sakura stills for a moment before carrying on eating so you move to the next step.

This time, you slide your hand over his thigh, squeezing his leg.

Sakura nearly chokes on his breakfast, heat crawling up his neck.

“You look so handsome today, Haru,” you purr in his ear.

Sakura’s breath catches and you see his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“T-thanks,” he manages to stammer out before looking sideways at you with one golden eye. “You look pretty today.”

You break out in a smile, reaching up to press a kiss against his cheek. His skin is hot as you let the kiss linger slightly.

Sakura leaves for his patrol, still beet red, as you wave him off. You don’t see him again until later that afternoon, when he’s having a break with some other Bofurin members.

You greet them all warmly before standing in front of Sakura, who’s sitting half-slumped on a bench with one arm resting on the back. He’s sporting a new bandage on his forehead.

You lean forward under the guide of checking his bandage, concern on your face, and let him see deep down the neckline of your top. You know it’s worked when Sakura’s cheeks tint pink, his eyes glued to your chest.

“You get hurt again, baby?” you ask him, running your thumb down from his forehead to his jaw.

“I-It’s nothing,” he says thickly.

You plant a kiss against the bandage before moving down to press a chaste kiss against his lips. You expect him to pull away but, to your surprise, he nearly chases your lips with his own when you withdraw.

Sakura blinks a few times, blushing furiously, as you smile and tell him you’ll see him at home later.

You’re home before him, leaving you with just enough time to choose the right outfit. You settle on a short skirt – too short to wear outside your home – and low-cut top with no bra.

That should do the job.

When you open the door to Sakura, he makes a choked noise from the back of his throat. You usher him in before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I missed you,” you tell him sweetly.

Sakura’s cheeks are beet red but he reciprocates your hug, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you flush to him.

God, you look incredible. The very picture of sin. Sakura’s normally tripping over his words, not used to being treated with kindness or soft touches, but it’s quickly overtaken by a visceral need.

Sakura adores you. Every time you’re close, every time you touch, he’s reminded of the bewildering fact that you’re with him and every nerve in his body lights up. He had to run from the diner earlier because just you touching his thigh gave him a tent in his pants. He had to go back to patrol late from his break because he saw down your top and he needed ten minutes to calm himself down.

It's not that Sakura doesn’t want to touch you. It’s that he knows if he starts, he won’t be able to stop touching you.

You gently guide him to the couch, climbing on his lap to straddle him. Sakura’s hands immediately go to your hips as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“You’re so good to me, Haru,” you say, your voice sultry as you push his two-toned hair back from his forehead. “I want to make you feel good now, okay?”

Sakura’s awe-struck. He nods eagerly, licking his lips and tipping his face towards yours.

You snake a hand up his neck to cup his jaw before capturing his lips in a kiss.

Sakura inhales sharply through his nose, the feel of your pillowy lips against his making his heart set off at a gallop. You deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth and Sakura tightens his grip on you, almost whimpering against your lips.

It’s like a dam breaks inside Sakura. He kisses you back frantically, his tongue meeting yours. His hands run up to your waist, squeezing you as if afraid to let you go. You move from his mouth to his jaw and then lower down still to his neck, kissing along his windpipe, and feel him melt under your touch.

You’ve never kissed Sakura like this before, never gone anything beyond a one-time hand hold and a few pecks on the cheek. But now you’re both filled with a desperate need.

You can feel his hard-on already, pressing against the thin fabric of your panties as Sakura bucks his hips under you. You push down, grinding against his bulge and making Sakura whimper.

“Does that feel good, baby?” you coo, peppering loving kisses across his warm cheeks.

“Mhm, fuck… y-yeah, feels s’good…” Sakura breathes out as you drag your clothed pussy along his length.

Even as his brain becomes addled with needy pleasure, he can’t stop his hands roaming over you. He reaches up to start groping your breasts, feeling the soft flesh between his fingers and your nipples hardening under his palm.

“S-Shit…” he mumbles.

How many times has he thought about touching you like this? More times than he can count – and none of his imaginings come close to the real thing.

Sakura leans forward, pushing your top up over your tits so he can bury his face in your cleavage. His hands move down to your ass, gripping you tight as he pushes and pulls your hips, encouraging you to grind harder. Every stroke of your pussy, even through two layers of fabric, is making his cock leak so much precum, it’s soaking through his pants.

Sakura’s lips latch onto your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as he starts to suck roughly, his teeth grazing you. You card your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, encouraging him.

“You’re such a good boy, Haru,” you tell him, your voice coming out breathless and lusty.

Sakura moans into your breasts and you feel his cock throb. Neither of you are undressed but he’s a mess already, all needy and handsy and desperate.

“P-Please let me fuck you,” Sakura whimpers. “Please, I’ll do anything, just let me fuck you, please.”

You pull your hips back, cupping Sakura’s chin to force him to look at you.

“Are you sure, baby?” you ask between soft kisses at the corner of his mouth.

Sakura nods desperately, his hips involuntarily bucking up. His cock strains against his pants, so achingly hard.

“I need to feel you, please, let me cum inside you. Please, baby, please, I can’t-” Sakura whines through gritted teeth, his hips still stirring at a chance of feeling your pussy rub against him again. “I need you so bad right now.”

The sound of his sweet begging only makes you wetter. You press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I can’t say no to you, Haru.”

You reach down to unbutton his pants, pulling his cock free. He’s hard as a rock, the tip shiny with precum. Your eyes widen slightly – he’s bigger than you thought he’d be.

“Ah! F-Fuck…” Sakura gasps as he feels your soft fingers close around it, his hips bucking again, desperate to rut into you.

You pull your panties to the side, drenched with your arousal, and align your sopping hole with his fat mushroom tip. Sakura whimpers as he feels your heat, making you smirk. Having him under you like this, like putty, so needy and helpless, is making your clit throb with desire.

You slowly sink down onto him, his girth stretching you but made easier with the amount of slick between your legs. Sakura gives a long, relieved moan as he feels himself slot inside you, so snug and warm and tight.

“That’s it, baby,” you soothe him, slowly bouncing up and down. “Does that feel good?”

“So f-fucking good,” Sakura stammers, pleasure short-circuiting his brain and making it hard to speak.

He squeezes his eyes shut, his brows knitting together in the middle as his lips part. His hands are on your tits again, groping you, feeling them bounce under his touch as you ride him. His cock throbs inside you, engorged with how close he is to cumming.

You roll your hips, rubbing your clit against him with every stroke, bracing yourself with your hands on his muscular shoulders. Sakura starts to thrusts up, meeting your hips with his as he becomes more needy, more desperate to cum.

Sakura wraps both his arms around you, pulling you flush to him and raising your hips slightly.

“So close… so close…” he whimpers as he thrusts up, holding you in place as he ruts up into you. He’s so sensitive he could burst, caught between the need to cum and the need to prologue this feeling for as long as possible, your heavenly walls squeezing him so tightly.

He presses his face against your tits, sucking roughly on your nipple as he fucks up into you. Sakura’s cock bullies into your pussy, stroking against the spot inside you that’s making you drip like a faucet. You tug on the roots of his hair, scratching your nails over his scalp as you whisper hoarse praises to him.

Sakura’s eyes roll back inside his head, your nipple falling from his mouth as he lets out a deep moan. His mind whites out as his orgasm hits, a choked groan escaping his throat.

“Fuck… fuck…” he whimpers as you feel him come undone inside you.

Sakura doesn’t stop thrusting even as he spills his load, fucking it into you. His grip loosens slightly on you so you meet his thrusts, bouncing on his cock again as Sakura bucks and jerks under you.

“That’s it, let me have it all, baby,” you talk him through it softly.

You slow as Sakura’s arms tighten around you again, his face smooshed between your tits, his hips stuttering to a stop. You can feel him breathing hard against your chest, sweat coating both your bodies.

Gently, you pry him away from you and meet his lips in a kiss.

“You did so good, Haru,” you praise him, cupping his jaw.

You’re aware he’s still inside you when he throbs at your words, even as his face is dazed, cheeks pink.

“I’ll give you a few minutes and then we’ll do that again, okay?” You wiggle on his lap, Sakura wrapping his arms tighter around you as your walls squeeze his oversensitive cock. “Can you do that for me?”

Sakura nods eagerly, his eyes glazed over with lust.

“Yes, ma’am.”

masterlist

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[norrizzandpia]

hii this is inspired by lando’s trip to Finland, I’d like to request fem reader freezing and lando constantly trying to warm her up! Something fluffy something heartwarming I think would be cute💕

Hi hi i love this!! Hoping to be back for good actually this time yall <3

My Coat, Your Coat (LN4)

Summary: Y/n is freezing. Lando is her boyfriend. There’s only one remedy.

Warnings: language and like two sexual inference

“It’s cold as shit out here.” Y/n whined, her arms shaking as they hugged her body in an effort to warm up.

Lando, standing beside her, looked down to meet her eyes, smiling softly at her pink cheeks before pulling her into his body, “I’m sorry, love. Although, would this be a bad time to say I told you so?”

What he’s referring to and what has Y/n pouting is the moment they had spent earlier that morning in their hotel room as they got ready for the day. Lando had been zipping up his last layer as Y/n stared at herself in the mirror, holding two coats on hangers and holding them up to her body as she tried to decipher which one she should wear. One coat was significantly thinner than the other and, unfortunately, the thinner one was the cuter one in her own words. Lando had tried to lecture her about what would happen if she wore the thinner one, trying to save his girlfriend from misery, but she hadn’t budged. All she done was roll her eyes and shake her head as Lando spewed off words at her.

“Beauty is pain,” She had said, Lando giggling at her and the inevitable complaining he would have to deal with later. It was a good thing he loved her as much as he did.

Now, as they stood tangled together amidst the snowy mountains, she continued to shake her head, “Yes, this would be a bad time.”

He shrugged, hugging her tighter and resting his head on the side of hers, which was nuzzled in the crook of his neck, “Does this feel better?”

She nodded, her hands in a ball between their chests as Lando’s body swallowed hers.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, Lando deep in conversation with their friend in the midst of it all. When he had fallen into talks with someone else other than Lando, he turned back to his girlfriend.

“I have another coat in my backpack, baby. I can go get it if you let me go?” He chuckled, but Y/n just groaned.

She pushed her head up a centimeter, just enough for her eyes to peek up at his, “Can’t you just shimmy over there while still holding me?”

His gloved hands pushed back the hair in her face before he kissed her softly, lips cold as ice yet warming at the touch.

“I’ll be one minute, I swear.” He gave only for her to shake her head once more.

He looked away for a moment, looking back down at her right after, “How about this, you let me get you the coat in my backpack and we take a hot shower when we get back to the hotel.”

His suggestive eyebrows went right over Y/n’s head, “Why would a shower matter to me? I take one everyday. That’s nothing new.”

He dipped his head down so his lips were right above her ear. He whispered, “You would be in the shower, I would be in the shower. I would be doing non-shower things to you.”

Y/n blushed, letting her body detach from Lando’s immediately. The boy laughed at her before moving away, going to rummage through his backpack to look for the extra layers he brought, knowing she would end up needing them.

He pulled the black puffy jacket from his bag as well as a scarf, running back over to her shivering form. She smiled at him as he pulled the coat and scarf around her, situating them on her body in an effort to salvage the outfit she had been so excited to wear. He knew she would still be stubborn about the way her clothes looked even if it risked hypothermia.

She looked down, nodding after a moment, “Much better.”

The jacket was rather oversized on her, coming from Lando’s closet, and the scarf covered the majority of her face, yet she still looked pretty as ever to him. In a moment of fuzziness over her smiling at him, Lando’s hand cradled one side of her face, moving it toward him so he could kiss her temple.

“Glad I could help,” He whispered against her skin.

Y/n giggled, “You’ll be doing a hell of a lot more tonight.”

Lando nodded as if she wasn’t joking around, face stone cold with seriousness, “Hell yeah, I will.”

[ur-favboy]

Pretty Risky

⋆.*ೃ✧→ Top Male reader

CONTEXT→ Y'all Fuck in a public park 🏞️

TAGS → Top Male reader, Male Reader, X male reader, AMAB! Reader, Scaramouche, Scaramouche x male reader, Genshin, sub! character

Scara's trembling arms linked around your neck, His form shuddering as visible ropes of sweat formed on his pale skin, subtly moving around your lap, grinding on your hard-on situated on his ass. The sound of people at the park, children playing and the chatter of the people around the both of you made his pussy wet. A wet patch showing on his panty under his pleated skirt. Scara bit his lip feeling your callous fingers slide across his spine, smoothly slipping their way under his skirt and going inside his pink lacy panties.

"A-ahn..~!" He moaned under his breath, feeling you use your two fingers to rub on his already swollen clit, The simulation invoking pretty mewls out of his lips, still attempting his best to stay quiet. His pretty lips turned into a cute pout, hearing you only laugh at his poor efforts of keeping his noises in. He squeaked in surprise as you suddenly (and easily) lifted him and placed him on the branch you were previously sitting on. You kneeled in front of him. Your large hands lift his skirt, looking up at him while you use your teeth to move his panty to the side. The sight of your sharp canines made him shiver, A needy whine escaping his throat. "Let your noises out baby, nobody will hear nor see you." You guys were in a secluded part of the public park, hidden behind a beautiful large oak tree.

Suddenly, Scara's eyes rolled to the back of his head. A loud moan escaped from his mouth as he tightly gripped your hair feeling you eat his pussy raw, Your tongue skillfully eating everything his pussy can offer. The juices of his arousal, everything. You ate like a man starved. As if his pussy is the only water to quench your thirst. You licked, sucked, and ate him out as if it were your life's purpose. Moaning in pleasure at the taste of his juices. You scarfed further, wanting more of his heavenly taste.

Scara's tongue lolled out of his mouth, pupils blown into hearts, drilled into the back of his head. "AHHNG!-" HMPHH!!~" "AH~~!! F-FUCK~~!!", wails of pleasure spewed out of his saliva-dripped mouth, toes curling in pleasure as the knot in his stomach grew and grew at the feeling of your hot tongue slurping and eating his pussy.

"AHNG~!!-" T-THERE!! RIGHT TH-THERE~~!!" choked cries kept erupting out of his mouth, back arching while one hand is tightly gripping your hair, his feet high in the ground, toes curling while you tightly grip his hips, pulling his heat closer and closer into your hot mouth.

A choked cry left his throat when he finally hit his high, Squirting in your warm mouth while gripping your hair tighter than ever, eyes crossed at the back of his head. Vision painted white, toes curling and a fucked-out smile on his lips. Drool at the sides of his mouth.

[ajortga]

the warmth of your hand

pairing: cairo sweet x fem reader

summary: tender kisses with the crisp cold of a sunset winter night, you and cairo go ice skating, another sweet memory being made.

word count: 1.9k+

Where the long lasting snow falls from the sky ever so gently,

The hushed whispers of words of the wind that blows in your hair when I brush it through my fingers.

Forever winter,

The cold that answers my prayers and tints your cheeks pink,

So I that you can ask for my warmth and comfort,

While I envelope you in a love that’ll keep you so safe, pressing my lips against your snow-fallen cheeks..

“Cairo!” you call out, your voice a soft melody as it rings through the coldness of the snow, and to the small creek that leads to the window of her room. Cairo’s ears perk as she places down her pen and swipes her thin hands over her journal filled with poetic beauty, the ink slightly smearing and leaving its mark.

She closes her notes filled with poetry of you, using the clip of her pen to grasp onto the book’s handle and wraps it in the band that keeps it together. 

“I’m coming love!” Cairo says, her voice growing a bit louder so you can hear her from outside. She didn’t want you to wait outside for long as she rolls out of bed and opens her closet, grabbing a pair of mittens, earmuffs, and wrapping a scarf around the nape of her neck. She flings her bedroom door open and swings down the hallway, opening the door to be greeted by your figure. 

You had your headphones hung around your neck, earmuffs in and your hair curled beautifully down. It took your girlfriend's breath away as she smiled at you. Your soft eyes met hers and she squealed, making you giggle. Your breath warmed up the cold air around you, a breath trying to warm it up, a sigh that is visible to one who sees it, your breath fogging in the cold winter air as it travels and dissipates. 

It’s like her writing when it comes to life. Of course it would come to life, all her writings are about you, your love, your beauty, you. Where the cold answers her prayers and tints your cheeks pink. It makes Cairo’s lips curve into a warm smile to see the way you look adorable, with your scarf covering your chin and you waddle up to her like a penguin. 

“G’morning..” you say, a small sniffle following in suit. 

“Hi baby,” Cairo whispers, ruffling your hair and scratching your scalp gently. She nuzzles your nose, having to bend down to press her nose to yours and giving your lips a kiss. Her lips are warm, soft, your lips are pouty, sweet. 

Before you can pull away and feel the eternal warmth of her lips again, her arms wrap around you and slide down to your waist. You feel her lift you up as a cheeky grin forms on your face, spinning around in her arms and making a small childish squeal like it’s Christmas day. Cairo grins, feeling your nimble hands brush the invading bangs away from her forehead.

“I missed you. And it’s cold,” you murmur, your hot breath purposely blowing against her face, causing a contagious laugh to sound from her. 

She feels the way your legs lift to wrap around her waist as she carries you, her nose pressed into your shoulder as your face buries into her neck.

“You are cold,” she states, “But that’s okay, we have plenty of time to cuddle and warm up before we go on our date in the evening, cmon.” 

She opens the door to her house and shuts it with her foot, you two kissing and making out along the way, lovely mumbles being made between each.

“I missed you.”

Kiss.

“I love you,” 

Seal that promise with another kiss.

You nestle your nose to the home of her neck as she carries you to her bed that is invaded by the sweet vanilla smell of her. You squeak as she pulls away from your lips, you press another greedy kiss to her lips again before she swings you back and forth.

“Here comes the airplane!”

“Cairo.. Cairo! CairOoOOOOOO!” you shriek as she throws you on her bed and comes right after, jumping on you and hugging you. You giggle from her funniness before feeling her fingertips wiggle against your stomach, tickling you.

“No! Stop!” You belly laugh, your body squirming under her as she tickles and tickles.

“Tell me you love meee.”

You can’t breathe from all the laughing as you snort and giggle, squeaking in between.

Your giggle is so cute, she thinks.

“Noo!! Okay yes I love you!” you squeal as you surrender your hands to say that you give up.

“I know,” she says softly, letting you scoot into her embrace. “I just wanted to find a way to warm you up a little.” 

It worked a little. You tell that to her, giving her another reason to let you rest against her body, like a puppy wanting their mothers warmth. You kiss her neck, nuzzling it with your nose as she kisses your forehead with a loving remark.

You spend the rest of the morning cuddling while resting in Cairo’s arms. She puts you to sleep by whispering her poems about you into your ear. The warmth of her breath against the shell of your ear makes you fall asleep faster. She notices the way your eyes flutter and twitches that you're fast asleep. You don’t know how she does it, you already got enough sleep but she always finds a way to make you sleepy again, even with the most amount of caffeine you may have had. From 9 to 11 you’re in a deep sleep with her sweet gentle whispers.

From 12-3 you and Cairo spend time cooking together. Boiling water and pouring some noodles in. After making your alfredo with garlic bread, anybody would die to look through the window and live your love life, your eyes looking into each other as you feed each other. Your fork reaches her mouth as she captures it with her lips and eats, she feeds you and wipes some of the sauce off your smooth chin.

From 4-5 you two get ready for ice skating, it was going to snow tonight. It’s like a rom-com movie and you would die to live in that with Cairo, sharing kisses near the campfire. Maybe more. Holding hands while you sleep and curl to each other. You cling on and your legs wrapped around her body as others look at you in pure awe.

You slip on a puffy white jacket above your top and put on some flared jeans, topping it off with some earmuffs that you may or may not have stolen when Cairo was changing. 

“I saw that.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Give me those back.”

“Cairo.”

“Y/N.”

“Do you not love me?” You say, looking like you were about to cry. You loved when you could fake cry. Guess acting classes really did benefit you besides doing theater. 

She sees your trembling lips and teary eyes and immediately she gives up. Coming to hug you and pressing her lips to your forehead. 

“Okay shh. You can wear them. Or keep them because I love you, okay?” She coos, voice coaxing you as a childish giggle erupts from your chest.

“Yay!”

You hug her and she lifts you up, kissing you softly, “Come on princess,” your legs wrap around her as she grabs her key and unlocks the door, walking to the ice skating rink not too far from her house.

-

After a few minutes of walking and giving gentle, loving kisses, she places you down on the floor, caressing your cheek.

“Okay love bug, let’s go ice skating, okay?” 

You nuzzle her neck, intertwining your hand with hers as you swing them up and down, giggling along the way. You sit next to her, snuggled up while you put on your ice skates. 

“Your nose is all red honey.”

You sniffle, letting her touch her nose with yours, feeling her scarf wrap around her neck when she lifts you up

Yours and Cairo’s feet were going to touch the rink as she examines the glossy ice, “It looks a little slippery, be careful, I can guide you-”

Before she could finish you giggled and skated on the ice, doing a small spin.

“Be careful!” she squeals, letting you drag her hand onto the rink as she clings onto you for support. She screams as her legs shake, begging you to start on the edge. Cairo was gripping onto the edge for dear life as you assured her, kissing her neck with love.

The sun was setting, you two were skating while holding hands. It was beautiful as you were cuddled up to her while she wobbled. She got the hang of it as you guys skated faster among all the other sweet couples.

“I think we look the cutest,” you whisper, looking up at her and playing with the twist of her hair.

“Oh really? I know we look the best baby. You’re making everyone jealous of me to be with a girl like you.”

A blush creeps up on your cheek as you smack her playfully, “That’s not true.”

“Well everyone else probably would kill to have a girl like you.”

“But I only have eyes for you. You are the prettiest, sweetest, kindest, most lovingest girl I’ve ever known.”

Now it’s Cairo’s turn to blush, it caught her so off guard that she lost balance and slipped, taking you down with her as you two yelped. You landed on top of Cairo as you laughed.

“See, you know it’s trueeee.”

“No!”

“Maybe they’re just jealous of us, they want what we have because we never fight unless it’s to prove the other person’s personality Cairo.”

The curled hair brunette lifts you up and you two continue skating.

-

After a few hours of skating and tenderness, the sun greeted the moon as its sweet warmth faded. The twinkling lights above the rink glistened against the ice.

“That was fun, huh baby?”

“I loved it more because it was with you.” 

Cairo giggles, your smile never fading as you two leave the ice rink. She helps untie your skates and gives your hand a little kiss before taking hers off.

You spend the rest of the night getting street food and sharing it with each other. Your hands never tear away from each other as you hug her while walking around the bustling city.

When you drop her off it’s like a scene from a romance movie that makes you kick your legs.

“Thank you for tonight,” you whisper, your hands holding on hers as she looks down from you, one stair up to her house.

“We should do that again.”

“And again,” you say, your cheeks scrunching in a small smile as she nods.

There’s a comforting silence, a soft cool breeze blowing through your hair as she looks down at you from her step.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Cairo,” you whisper, before leaning on your tippy toes to reach her lips. You kiss her softly before pulling away.

"Call me when you're safe cariño."

You keep kissing her, until you turn to leave. You were a few feet away from her after taking small steps as she watched you walk to your car on her driveway before turning around.

“Actually.. Can I stay the night here and cuddle?” you whisper, looking like a precious puppy with those eyes.

Cairo knew she couldn’t say no, she would do anything to spend time with you as she smiles widely, nodding. 

You waddle up to her in happiness before jumping in her arms and kissing her again, making a small squeal as she giggles and carries you back into the comfort of her home.

[rachalixie]

eight days of christmas carols - day 2

minho - baby it’s cold outside

a/n: i took out all the creepy from the original song and made it cute bc we like respectful men in this house (gn!reader)

“i really can’t stay,” you whine, attempting to disentangle yourself from minho’s octopus limbs that had wrapped around you hours ago. 

“are you sure?” he looks up at you with wide eyes, blinking slowly. like he was trying to hypnotize you with just his stare. 

“yes, you little gremlin,” you finally get free of his grasp and you sit a safe distance away from him on the couch, massaging the blood back into your hands. “i’ll see you tomorrow, you won’t be away from me for too long.”

“but,” he starts, biting his lip. “baby, it’s cold outside. what if you get sick?”

“it’s just a ten minute walk,” you smile, fondness threatening to burst out of you when you take in his genuine worry. “i’ll be okay.”

“just don’t complain to me when you’re sniffling tomorrow,” he says, pouting like a petulant child. it was as if you were taking his favorite toy away from him. he reaches over and takes your hands in his, playing with your fingers between his own. “will you let me walk you home? i’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice.”

“what, so i can listen to you complain about the cold the entire way?” you giggle, raising your linked hands to your mouth to press a series of kisses to each of his knuckles. “i’ll be okay, baby.”

he relents, standing up and dragging you with him to where you had discarded your coat. he helps you into it, buttoning it up all the way to your neck and patting it down so he could make sure every inch of you was covered. you reach in to give him a goodbye hug, but he interrupts you with a -

“wait!” he straightens up, dashing out of the room and leaving you standing with your hands outstretched. you blink once before dropping your hands, rolling your eyes - he would do anything to keep you to stay, right?

he comes back with a bundle of crocheted items, a smile on his face and pink dusting his ears. 

“have my hat and my gloves and my scarf,” he tucks the hat and scarf under his arms so he could pull the gloves onto your hands, carefully tucking your fingers into each section. “they’ll protect you.”

he wraps the scarf around your neck, tying it around and using it to pull your towards him once he was done. you stumble into him, glaring at the little giggle he lets out. he puts the final touches on you, securing the hat on your head, making sure your ears were properly covered. 

“gosh, your lips look delicious,” he says, eyes transfixed on you. “can i have one more kiss for the road?”

“pushy,” you tease, leaning in to press one, two, three kisses to his lips. it sends warmth tingling up and down your spine, more so when he presses his palm to the small of your back to keep you against him. 

“baby, it’s cold outside,” he murmurs against your lips before pulling back. “text me when you get home, please?”

—

carols masterlist

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 7

Thankfully, two comments last week spared me from believing that Anin had really left Pin without saying bye, but just like Pink Person Pin, I felt I was owed some babying for the mental anguish I had to suffer, and Blue Beauty Anin delivered.

Well, until the goodbyes started again!

Pin gifting Anin the pillowcase with the pink flowers and the blue "P" pulled on my heartstrings.

But I really felt all the emotions once Prik started tearing up when Anin said Pin wouldn't be saying bye.

BUT PIN WAS STANDING THERE WATCHING THE CAR LEAVE IN PINK AND A PURPLE SKIRT OF LINES WHICH IS THEIR COLORS COMBINED WITH ANIN'S LINE AND STRIPES THEME!

Before this series started, I thought Pin was going to fight this love and lose her color, but she proved this entire episode that she lives and breathes for her girl, so as much as her mom/aunt/caretaker stresses me out with her getting out her color, I trust my Pink Person!

Pin is not only solid in her color this episode, but solid in her love for Anin.

Even when she would momentarily lose her color due to something someone would say (like her mama constantly mentioning marriage),

Pin would bounce right back!

All these other girls wanna be a Pink Person *cough* Aon *cough*

And even though I wanted to believe this was a dream because THE AUDACITY, I'm glad these color-coded girls in love were handing everyone their marching orders and asses.

And in style too because when Pin told Kankuea she would never like him, she did it in a pink- and blue-striped top because Anin is always with her!

Even the older color-coded brother, who I've been told to trust, understood this week's mission.

Tell these people they ain't worthy of a princess!

There is only one person who is the right one for the loyal and royal Blue Beauty.

Who is her loyal Pink Person Pin!

And Pin consistently showed it in her floral pink and blue skirt!

By knitting Anin a scarf in her pink-lines skirt.

Wearing a pink and purple-lines skirt after graduation.

Wearing purple and a flannel skirt when she sat next to the guy she knows likes her but ignores all his advances.

AND DRIVING A BLUE CAR!

Because, once again, even when Pin's color fades a bit after not hearing from Anin.

She is still thinking of her with a blue-lines scarf tied around her neck.

And counting down the days until she can see her again on her color-code calendar.

I'm sorry I ever doubted you Pin. You're a real one.

Which is why you deserve those pearl earrings Anin gifted you with your and her initials on them because you always carry her with you.

It's also why she wrote you that amazing letter in the blue-lined box in a blue envelope, with a pink "P & A" seal, and the silver and gold pins on it WITH YOUR BUNNY!

And it's why she returns to you time and time again.

So as stressed as I know I'm going to be watching this love story unfold as the class dynamic start pushing down on the girls, both brothers married a Pink Person,

And, as they say, good things come in threes!

[henneseyhoe]

Milk Marie

Unique x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: unprotected seggs(wrap before you tap!), dirty talk, after care, soft(ish)!Unique, pussy whipped!Unique, kinda short, das it(I think)

SUMMARY: Unique figures if he can’t get over her, he’ll get under her instead.

✮Prompt✮

✮✮✮✮

Girl, I want everything that come with you. Even if you got stretch marks and even two children. I can’t blame you, girl.

It seemed like he always ended back up here. Right here. In this bed. With this woman. Wrapped up in her sheets with his hands touching all the parts only the luckiest of men got the pleasure of even seeing. He swore they were meant to be, and she almost thought so too. He treated her so well, like the beauty she was, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

They had known each other since the sandbox, his mother always offering to watch her while her mother was at work and since that first time they met, they were connected at the hip.

No matter if they fell out and swore to stop fuckin’ with each other, they always ended right back together. No matter how many times she attempted to leave, he’d just find her again.

He hoped by the last time she left he’d be too tired of her bullshit to follow after her, but he was more resilient than he thought, and withdrawals are a muthafucka. Now he knows how the people he serves feel.

That first taste he had of her? It was like a babies first lick of sugar, addiction waiting to happen. The first time he came was like floating in outer space with no destination or desire to be anywhere else. And as ironic as it was, she looked innocent on her knees for him.

Her mouth worked its way down on him until the tip of her nose touched his stomach and her eyes began to water, her throat capturing his entire length. With no problem, she bobbed her head up and down on him, her mouth so sloppy that spit escaped from her lips and trailed down to his balls, making him shudder.

She took her hand and began spreading the spit around his heavy sack, massaging as she felt him throb in her mouth, the taste of precum already being prevalent on her tongue. He occupies his hands and digs his fingers into the couch cushions, knowing that she would stop and he’d be fucked if he reached for her freshly done silk press that was wrapped in a silk scarf, secure for those rough times.

Flashes of white appeared behind his eyes like stars as that familiar pull in the bottom of his stomach appeared once again, a warm sense of feeling covering his body as he came down her throat for the first time in months since he found out where she had been hiding. Which just ended up being her childhood home in the city over.

It took unique all but a mere few seconds to recover before he was pulling her up from her knees and into his strong hold, giving her that kiss of death before he got to doing his own damage. As he stood from the couch with no care about the jeans and belt still around his thighs, their tongues danced together in sync. Unique could taste every bit of both of them on her tongue, but he was never one to fuss about kissing after head if it was with her. He welcomed it if anything.

Tossing her body onto the bed, he takes a second to admire how the room hadn’t changed one bit since she became an adult. A doll house sat in the corner with dolls still inside, a memory of the last time she had played with them. Teddy bears that had eventually fallen off the bed when she was sat. Pink walls with brown, white, and gold for the future. A color pallet reminding him of something else in particular.

✮✮✮✮

“Nique~” She moaned sweetly, her hands gripping the sheets underneath her as the man above her pushed his hips onto her ass, his piece sinking into her ever so slowly. The stretch was always the same, the thickness of him leaving a burning sensation at her entrance the more he pushed into her, but it only stayed for a few seconds as she adjusted to his size, which was nothing average.

The thrusts were sensual and loving until he leans up off of her and pulls out just a bit further than usual, giving her the room to pull her ass up in the air and put a perfect arch in her back. She began bouncing herself back onto him, gaining speed and momentum as he meets her ass with his hips.

“Oh fuck..” He groans quietly.

His eyes were trained on the motions of her soft skin jiggling with every collide of their bodies. His thrusts only got harder from there, segments of moans falling from the girls lips. He didn’t even have to tell her how wet she was, the squelching sounds erupting from where they connected told her all she needed to know.

Switching the angle of his thrusts, he places one knee onto the bed and leans into her, his hands placed in the middle of her back just to make sure she wouldn’t be able to run from the lethal position. And running, she did not do, couldn’t do because of how he was holding her. Suddenly the bed dipped under them both with the strong force of his thrust making her collapse on her stomach, leaving the girl breathless after calling out to the highest one she worshipped.

“You feel that, baby? I’m in it?” He asks with his breathing unsteady, his balls tightening and her toes curling.

“Yes, Nique!”

She was in shambles trying to keep up with him. She could feel the tip of his dick pressing against her g spot, constantly slamming into it like a button, like he’d get some kind of prize if he pushed it correctly. He fucked her so hard, sweet compliments being the only things that contradicted the rough strokes. She could hear the belt buckle of his pants jingling around his ankles, remembering that they had barely been undressed fully before Unique got impatient and just shoved his pants down and her nightgown up before pushing her to her knees.

As Unique continued on with damn near breaking this girls childhood bed, he thought to himself. This was the pussy that niggas killed for. The type pussy that’d have you bussing back to back without a second thought about a condom. This was the pussy he thought about on those lonely nights when she was mad at him, when he had to take matters into his own hands and desperately jerk himself off, his mouth agape and muscles flexing as he cums all over his stomach to the beautiful thought that was her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She whimpers. At this point she could feel him poking at her stomach and being pressed against the mattress helped nothing. He would probably fuck her through the cushion if he could.

“Uh-huh. Cum on this dick, Princess. Lemme feel you wet this dick up, show me how good I make this pussy feel” He spoke, punching nothing but a thick 9 inch pole into her spine. The man gave her no choice but to scream and give him exactly what he wanted, which was her release.

✮✮✮✮

Between her thighs were messy and wet, coated with a layer of white cream that was from both of them. Unique gently wiped her down with a wet towel, careful not to swipe over her sensitive clit too fast or harsh.

“Shhh—“ She hissed, her thighs almost closing in on his hand. Unique’s eyes flickered from her core up to her expression. “My bad” He simply apologized before tossing away the dirty rag in a hamper next to the bed. Laying next to her on his back, he sighs. “you gon’ learn to stop running from what you love”

She smiles, turning her head to look at the side of his face, getting a view of that nearly perfect profile. “Who says I love you, Unique?”

He smirks. “I don’t need a second opinion on a fact”

And the cycle continues…

✮✮✮✮

Woke up and remembered I forgot the taglist chile! LMFAO(some tags aren’t showing up, dk why!)

🏷️ @thatone-girly @notapradagurl7 @swavydadon @miyahmaraj @planetblaque @msinterlude @milkiboo @bloodripleygal @stevelacyballs @naj-ay444 @blackelysian @shaolyninferno

[dilfl0v3rss]

Basketball player ony x cheerleader reader?

coming right up boooo🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

tonight was game night, but not only for your boyfriend. as a cheerleader games were just at important to you as they were to ony. “mama you seen my socks?” he yelled from the living room as he dug in his bag for the third time looking for these damn socks. though it was nine in the morning and the game was at 8 in the afternoon, you and ony both had prep to be at by eleven. usually the two of you would still be in bed at this time on a saturday regardless of the game, but due to your recent activities last night neither of you prepared anything for the morning.

“in the dryer baby. they might be a little damp cause i just put em in ten minutes ago.” you yelled from the bathroom. words muffled as you leaned over the sink with your toothbrush still in your mouth. “shit” he mumbled as he ran towards the dryer. still in just his boxers and durag as he opened the still running dryer to feel for any water still in his socks. “shit!!” you had just finished brushing your teeth. pink scarf wrapped around your ponytail as you ran towards your bag to double check your uniform.

“papa you seen my bow? s’not in my bag!” you walked towards the door to find your boyfriend when you were met with his hard chest. face in a pout at he held pink socks in his hand. “babyyyy loookk” he whined as he showed you his usually white compression shirt that was now pink as well. “shit!!” you yelled. “what we gon dooo?” you sucked your teeth before running to your dresser. pulling out a pair of fresh socks. “cant do nun about the shirt so you gon have to play with just the jersey on, but you can wear these and i’ll get you some more tomorrow.”

ony quickly kissed your cheek before pointing towards his bedside drawer. “ian know where to put it so i just put it in my drawer” you gave him a quiet ‘okay’ before quickly walking to his side of the bed, pulling the bow out of his drawer before putting it in your bag. you took a deep breath before you looked up at your still half naked boyfriend leaving the room. “ony?” he walked back in the room with his bag on his shoulder. “hmm?” “where your clothes at?”

panic began to set in his mind as he thought of the last place he seen his team sweatsuit. eyes glued on the ceiling as he was deep in thought. “aww hell nah. baby where is it? you literally can’t leave without it on.” ony lifted his hand, cutting you off. “i know mama, i know. i’ll find it. you got yours?” you immediately closed your mouth. where did you leave that sweatsuit? “see?! look at you in my business and you don’t even know where your shit at.”

now it was your turn to wave your hand to cut him off before you walked out of the room in search of your cheerleading warmup. you ended up finding them both folded up on the dryer. at least you got one thing done last night. you gave ony his clothes and the both of you got dressed. before you got in the car the two of you made sure to double and triple check your bags before leaving your apartment.

“what you getting for breakfast?” ony mumbled as he made his journey to the starbucks that was just two minutes away from campus. “whatever i get we gon have to share cause we don’t got time to wait for two orders.” he nodded in agreement as he parallel parked right in front of the store. before you left the car you felt a light tug on your arm. “none of that healthy shit mama. i’m a big boy i want sum wit meat in it.” you rolled your eyes as you pulled his arm off of yours.

“you gon eat what i bring lil boy.” ony sucked his teeth before watching you walk into the starbucks. you ended up coming back with a bagel with avocado spread, which your boyfriend wasn’t happy about, but he didn’t have the time to argue with you so he sucked it up and ate his half as he drove the two of you back to campus. you were making good time since it was just hitting 10:15 when you got there. as the two of you approached the locker rooms you gave ony a kiss.

his large hands gripped your ass as he slid his tongue in your mouth. deepening the kiss to the point where you felt like if you didn’t stop him soon the both of you would end up in the locker room getting each other in trouble. “nuh uhh papa save it for after you win.” his lips curved into a smirk as he slid his hand off your ass, putting his finger under your chin so he can look in your eyes. “make sure you give daddy a show during halftime aight? ion get to watch the whole thing, but for the little part i do watch make it real sexy f’me”

you roll your eyes as you nod at his request, giving him another quick kiss. “i love you mama” he pulled you into a tight hug, breathing in your scent as much as he can before he’s separated from you for the rest of the day. “i love you more baby. good luckkk!!” as you released each other you gave your boyfriend two more quick pecks before he put his hand on the doorknob to his locker room.

“ion need luck when i got you”

[dira333]

Current Friend, Future Husband? - Tenma Udai/Little Giant x Reader

whoops, my finger slipped... Words: 5k

Enjoy this reluctant Friends to Lovers/He falls first with the Little Giant from Karasuno.

created as a fanfic gift exchange for @lees-chaotic-brain

tagging: @mariaace @snail-squasher @yamaguchiwestad @respitable

- 6 -

“Tenma’s here,” your mom calls up from the kitchen.

The announcement is unnecessary because Tenma has yet to learn how to walk quietly, stomping up the stairs to your room.

His face is set in a scowl too, dark curls and dark eyes giving him quite an evil aura.

But you’ve known him long enough not to care about that.

“Grab a scarf,” you tell him as soon as he steps through the door, “I’m playing wedding.”

“Not again,” he groans, though does as he is told. The pink scarf he picks has hundreds of little coins sown to it, chiming as he wraps it around his shoulders and moves through the room.

“I’m a Djinn,” he exclaims, “I will curse you.”

“Djinn’s don’t curse people! They fulfill wishes,” you correct him.

“Fine,” he huffs, “What do you wish for?”

“I want Tenma to play the husband.”

“Not again!” He groans, throwing his hands in the air.

“You have to!” You declare, “Djinn’s always have to follow their master's wishes!”

He huffs and whines and begs but it’s no use. He plays the husband to your wife.

“Can we play outside now?” He asks as soon as you kiss his cheek and declare the marriage official. “Mom brought my ball.”

“Fine,” you decide to be nice today. “But don’t kick it too hard. I don’t like that.”

.

- 8 -

“It’s so weird that you’ve got a boy as a best friend,” Asuka exclaims. Your small group of (girl)friends has gathered in your favorite spot, overlooking the garden and the big open space below. Tenma’s playing Ball with a group of boys and he’s easy to pick out, he’s always the smallest in any group.

“You think so?” You ask back, taking one of the strawberries Sango brought for lunch break today. “It’s not like I had a chance. Our mothers are best friends. He’s basically my annoying twin brother.”

“Do you think he’s cute?” Ryo asks, looking up from where she’s painting Tomoko’s nails.

You consider this for a moment, look down to where he’s running around, red-faced and panting. He’s not ugly, that much you can tell, but cute?

“I don’t think so,” you say, because it’s better than to admit that you don’t really know what cute really means for a guy. You think babies are cute, but that’s not the same thing, right?

“I think he’s cute,” Ryo admits easily now that she thinks she knows where you stand. “Can I ask him to be my boyfriend?”

“I mean you can ask,” you offer, feeling a little weird that she asks you in the first place, “but I don’t know what he’ll answer you. I bet he still thinks girls are gross.”

.

- 10 -

“I think you’re getting a little too old to be sharing a bathtub,” your mother announces after Tenma has left.

“We weren’t sharing,” you explain, drying your hair. “We were playing that he was my magical shapeshifting dog but he rolled around in a mountain of dragon poop and I had to give him a bath. He pulled me in when I was almost done washing him.”

Your mother sighs. “Aren’t you getting a little old for those stories too?”

You tense and she notices right away.

“Dear, I didn’t mean… if this is how you want to play, I’m totally fine with that. I was just wondering…”

“How else are we supposed to play?” You ask, unable to keep the agitation out of your voice. “Am I supposed to kiss him and hold hands like the other girls in my class are pretending to do? Or play Volleyball the whole day? Or just do our homework and study, study, study until we fall asleep? Or play video games that you don’t like because they make you dumb? How are we supposed to play?”

Your mother sighs again, lowers herself until she’s sitting crosslegged on the floor next to you.

“Come,” she says, opening her arms until you crawl into her like you used to do. “I’m sorry. I know, as your mother, I should say and do all the right things but that was pretty stupid of me. Can you forgive me?”

You nod and she pulls you in a little closer, kissing your damp hair. “Now tell me, what do you like to do? What’s fun?”

You lean into her, the familiar smell and warmth, and let yourself open up.

“When I come up with a story, Tenma always makes it bigger. Like today, when I said: Do you wanna play my dog, it was his idea that he could shapeshift. And that we’re living in a world that has dragons. And… and I was a maiden that had a tavern and there would be knights who came by to slay the dragons but the dragons are actually our friends… It’s like reading a book but you’re in it, you know? And he doesn’t ask about who I like and what I like and what I think is cute all the time. That’s so annoying.”

“You like hanging out with Tenma?”

“He’s okay,” you offer and she snorts. “If he ever gets on your nerves, you can tell me, okay? I know boys can be annoying too.”

“I can handle Tenma,” you tell her, knowing you’re right. “But can you, like, not allow me to go to Ryo’s sleepover next week? She’s so obsessed with boys and she always pranks someone during sleepover. I don’t want to wake up with my head shaved.”

.

- 12 -

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement. 

It’s not that you don’t get chocolates and confessions, because you do, a lot actually even though you decline every time, but never from Tenma.

For a long second neither of you does or says anything and all you see of him is the back of his neck as he bows.

But then he pops up, a weird grin on his face.

“Got you!” He declares, opening the pack of chocolates and biting into it without a moment of hesitation. “Did you think that was real?”

“No,” you say even though that’s a lie, “Why did you do it?” 

He shrugs, offering you the chocolate. You take a bite as well, feeling a little smug that neither of you cares that it will be an “indirect kiss” as the girls call it. 

“Everyone thinks we’re dating,” he admits finally when he pulls the chocolate back again, “just wanted to see what you think about it.”

“It’s annoying,” you declare ad you should have watched his face a little closer because something like a shadow moves over it, but it’s gone before you can catch it. “You’re like my brother.”

“Yeah,” he says, but it sounds a little weak for someone as headstrong as Tenma.

You don’t wanna think about it though, so you poke his shoulder. “Where did you get the chocolate?”

“Someone confessed to me. I said no but I kept the chocolate because they thought I was dating you and still confessed. That’s stupid.”

“Mhm,” you don’t ask for a name. “Wanna stay and play a bit before we walk home?”

“Volleyball?” He asks, ears perking up. 

“Sure.”

.

- 14 -

Neither of you is dating anyone. 

None of your girlfriends believes that you’re not into Tenma and you’ve given up on convincing them of the truth. You don’t really want to date anyone. You like solving puzzles and coming up with crazy ideas that Tenma can bend and fold into even crazier stories. You like going for a run with him in the morning because even though you hate waking up early it sets your mind at ease and you like going for a run with him in the evening because without it, you’ll be unable to sleep.

Sure, there are some good-looking boys in your class. But maybe you’ve spent too much time around Tenma, or boys in general, to find any appeal in them. 

They fart and they burp and they dig their dirty fingers into their noses and they refuse to shower even though they smell awful and sweaty. The number of times you’ve had to drag Tenma into the shower, turn it on, and hold him under the spray because you couldn’t allow him in your room otherwise and he wouldn’t go on his own is too high to admit at this point.

It helps a little that Tenma thinks the same of girls.

Not that the girls from your class are as disgusting as the boys. 

But they giggle too much and they always flutter their lashes at him which he thinks is a little creepy and they don’t listen to him when he talks about anything that isn’t their appearance.

“I like talking to you instead,” he admits and this is probably the highest praise he’s ever sung you, “you know what I’m talking about.”

And you know what he means because you always know what he means. It’s not that hard. Tenma likes stories, the crazier the better, and he likes volleyball. And food, but he’s picky with that, giving you his tomatoes and eating all your salmon even though you’d have wanted to eat that yourself. 

All the other girls in your class are talking about boyfriends and getting married and having a family and all you want to think about is solving riddles with Tenma or telling him a story so he doesn’t make you practice receives with him. 

.

- 16 -

“Did you get your first kiss already?” Hisoka asks and you shake your head. Nothing sounds less appealing than tasting someone else’s spit.

“Don’t you and Tenma kiss?” She asks and you stare at her as if she’d said that Alien’s are real. 

“Why would we kiss?”

“You’re dating, aren’t you? Everyone says that you’re dating.”

“He’s like my brother,” you tell her. “We grew up together.”

“But you’re the manager of the Volleyball team too.”

“Yeah, because I like Volleyball.”

She huffs. “Okay, who do you like? I think Tsukishima is still single.”

Tsukishima, blond, tall, and universally liked, blushes like a strawberry. You glare at him for eavesdropping.

“I’m not interested in anyone,” you declare loudly. You hope that’s the end of it.

It isn’t.

.

“Hey, can you walk home without me? We’re going to prank the store owner down the street,” Tenma hands you his bag without waiting for an answer.

You walk home alone, grumbling to yourself about how you would have wanted to play along with the prank.

But it doesn’t matter.

After years of being an okay player, Karasuno’s trainer seems to have spotted something in Tenma that he didn’t even expect there himself.

Extra training. More time on the court. Recognition from others.

Soon enough you’re sidelined with Tsukishima and the others.

First-year managers are not allowed on the court during official matches. 

Is there anything worse than realizing that you’ve made a mistake? Putting all your faith in one friend only to realize they can drop you without a moment’s hesitation?

.

“Tenma’s here,” your mother calls out from the kitchen.

You’re not fast enough at sprinting toward your door. He slips into your room before you’ve managed to close it.

“Tsukishima told me you’re leaving the team?” He sounds out of breath. Did he run here?

“I’m just a manager, it’s not like the team will notice,” you scoff, pushing him off your bed. “Besides I’m taking up Advanced English, so I’ll have more time to study.”

“What? Are you going to turn boring now?”

“You’re boring!” You scream, surprised by the anger that’s spilling from your lips. It feels as if he’d stabbed you with that question and all the words are just the blood that’s spraying out of open wounds. “All you do is play volleyball and think you’re the greatest and it sucks!”

“You suck!” He yells back. “You’re just jealous I’m finally cool!”

“You’ll never be cool!” 

Tenma stomps his foot like a little kid before storming out of your room.

You can hear the front door slam shut all the way up to your room and if you crawl into your bed to cry right after that’s nobody’s business but yours.

And your mother’s, as it seems, because she appears at your doorstep just a few minutes later.

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“No.”

“Hm, maybe not right now,” she offers at your tear-soaked voice, “but I expect an explanation until tomorrow evening, okay? Tenma’s family to me too. You know we can solve all fights with good communication.”

You don’t answer and she leaves you alone to wallow in your despair.

.

“Tenma wants to apologize,” Udai-san pushes him toward you. Your mother nudges you forward in much the same way.

“I don’t want you to be cool,” you say instead, the words prickly on your tongue. “I like you better when you’re not cool.”

Tenma’s eyes flutter around the room, arms crossed. Your mothers leave the room and you sink into the floor, annoyed and hurt and so many more things you can’t properly name.

“Do you really think I’m boring?” Your voice is much to vulnerable for your liking.

But it stills his nervous movement and he sinks onto the floor just like you, heavy and exhausted. You’ve never fought like this before. 

“I think you’re trying to be,” he offers quietly, “but I want to you to keep playing Volleyball with me.”

“I’m just a manager.”

“Yeah, but it feels like you’re playing with me. And… and you’ve always been the smart one, okay? Everyone’s always said: Tenma, you should be more like her. She’s so smart. Can’t she tutor you? No one ever told you to play Volleyball like me. No one ever told anyone to try to be like me until now.”

“I’ve always wanted to be as creative as you,” you offer and even though he wrinkles his nose you can tell he’s touched by that.

It feels like you’re standing at a crossroads. Whatever you decide or do or say next will change the trajectory of this friendship. You’re not ready for that. You doubt you’ll ever be. 

As long as there’s the safety of your past, you’ll always try to grasp it.

“Do you wanna play my dog?”

.

- 18 -

You’re not sure if it’s the awful music, the crowd around you, the smell of sweat and food and spilled soda, or just everything all at once, but you don’t think College parties are for you.

You recall a balcony or backdoor to your left so you move that way, push against the wall of bodies with everything that you’ve got, panic already bubbling in your throat.

Someone grabs your hand just as you’re gasping for air and with a well-aimed push you’re through, cool air hugging you like a loved relative at a family dinner.

“You good?” Tenma’s squinting down at you. He’s grown a little during break, though you doubt he’ll ever be as tall as the other guys on his former Volleyball team.

“Yeah, thanks.”

His hand is still around yours, now pulling you down the path into the dark garden.

“Where are we going?”

“Dunno, getting some fresh air into you. Met anyone you like?”

“Yeah, the fridge.”

He snickers. “What about that girl from your business Class?”

“She’s trying to eat the face of some guy I don’t know.”

“Tsukishima?”

“Pretended he didn’t know me.”

“Aww, I’m wounded.”

“I bet you are. What about you? Any hot girls tried to talk to you?”

“About that,” he knocks his elbow into your side, “one of them tried to kiss me.”

“A hot girl tried to kiss you?” He nudges you again at your incredulous tone.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m famous.”

“Bet you are,” you snicker. “But what happened? Did she realize you’re not a tall girl but a small guy and run away?”

“No,” his voice sounds weird now, but you can barely see his face in the dark, “I turned her down. Didn’t want my first kiss to happen at some party.”

“How do you want your first kiss to happen?”

“Ah,” you know he’s just shaking his head from left to right as he’s thinking, you don’t have to be able to see him for that, “Like this, you know? In the garden in the dark? That’s kinda romantic.”

“Should have brought someone else over here then.”

His hand lets go of yours.

“Right,” he says, voice weirdly tight.

“Shit, did I ruin the mood?” You ask, nudging your elbow into whatever you can reach, “I can get that hot girl for you. Just tell me what she looks like.”

“Do you wanna get KFC instead?” He must have turned his back to you. You don’t know what you said to derail this conversation, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to keep it up. 

“Sure,” you agree, “but you’re paying.”

.

- 20 -

Tenma has started growing his hair out.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t suit him.

You’d be a filthy, awful, terrible liar if you said you didn’t want to drag your hands through it all the damn time.

“You should cut your hair,” you tell him when you meet up for lunch, “You look like a homeless guy.”

“And you look like a sexy secretary,” he jokes, pulling you in and putting you in a headlock. It feels brotherly and it’s just what you need to get through this lunchdate that’s not a date.

Somewhere in between graduating Highschool and today Tenma’s gotten hot. 

Or maybe you’ve just finally gone through puberty, discovered all the hormone’s healthy teenage girls were supposed to have.

Last week you even sniffed his leather jacket when he was in the bathroom and you wished you could have put in on for a few minutes, but you feared he’d notice and how would you ever live that down?

“Did you get any feedback on that story you submitted?” You ask, trying not to overthink his comment. It’s probably meant as a loving insult, after all you’re not a secretary.

“Yes, actually, they told me they’re printing it.”

“No way,” you shut the menu again, “You’re joking, right?”

He grins. “You think I’m joking?”

“Not really, but I wanna make sure you’re being honest with me before I pay for your lunch.”

“You could let me pay and we call this a date,” he says and even though you catch yourself freezing up you can see on his face that he caught it.

“I was joking,” he tells you and if you’d be able to be honest, if you’d trust yourself not to ruin this, you’d tell him that his joking is the one thing that makes you still freeze up in fear.

After all, you don’t throw away a friendship of twenty years to a joke, right?

“I know,” you tell him pointedly, clearing your throat and opening the menu again. “Which means you’re paying for yourself.”

“Come on,” he whines, but his voice comes easy now, which means you can breathe again.

The moment is gone and somehow, you’re sure, you’ll survive the next one too.

.

“Can’t your girlfriend sleep in your room?” You can’t place the voice for a moment even though it sounds familiar.

“Not my girlfriend.” That’s Tenma. Who are they talking about?

“Well, if you keep having a girl over make sure she has a place to sleep that is not the living room. I need my space in the morning.”

“Sure, sure.” Tenma sounds like he’s not taking this seriously. 

You blink and wipe the drool from your face.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” Tenma’s face is so close now you can smell the toothpastey-freshness of his breath.

“What day is it?” You ask, feel your jaw crack as you yawn.

“Sunday,” he pulls you up with ease, “Let’s put some of my spare clothes on you before we meet up with our parents. Or did you bring something?”

You rub your eyes as you lean on him. He might have stopped playing Volleyball, but he hasn’t lost his muscles. 

The memories are slowly coming back to you. Going through his newest idea, a Manga this time. Reminiscing over old footage from his Karasuno days. Sharing one, two, maybe three beers as you giggle and swat away his hands on the Couch.

You can only hope you didn’t say or do anything embarrassing last night.

But this is Tenma. He’d let you know right away if you had.

.

It gets easier to live with your crush. 

Tenma never mentions any girl he’s seeing or points out who he thinks is cute.

He’s pretty good at keeping in contact even when he’s so lost in his creative mind that he forgets to eat.

And while your work is equally demanding, the hours there are more regular.

It’s not uncommon to find you in his kitchen after work, growing from putting ready-to-eat food onto plates to actually preparing home-cooked meals. They’re not awful and you think that’s the highest praise you can get.

Sometimes, when it’s so late you can forget about catching a train back home and Tenma’s so tired he sounds like he’s speaking a foreign language, you end up sleeping in the same bed.

If you drag your fingertips through his hair then, hear him mumbling softly under his breath as you fall asleep, that’s your secret to keep.

.

- 22 - 

Tenma’s a full-fledged Manga Artist now. 

You got your own promotion just a short month later and as he raises another glass on your good work, the question tumbles out of you before you can stop yourself.

“Do you want to move in together?”

His grip is suddenly too tight around his glass. You can tell because you’ve grown a bit too observant lately, always way too laser-focused on where he is and what he’s doing and how he’s smelling like, freshly-showered or cozily slept-in.

“You can say if it’s a stupid idea,” you ramble on, “I mean, I’m over at your place all the time anyway to make sure you’re eating enough. It would be weird though if one of us brought home a date, but like-”

“Sure,” Tenma clears his throat, “we could move in together.”

He deflects all further questions though, whether it should be closer to his work or closer to yours, how many rooms you’ll need, and if you’ll be able to get a cat, instead filling up your glass again and again.

Eventually, you walk home arm in arm, each of you trying to support the other.

It’s a hopeless case but that doesn’t mean you’ll stop trying.

.

“This was fun,” you say at the train station, debating if you’ll take the train home or find some excuse to stay at his place.

You turn your head, surprised to find him this close. His eyes are wide open, dark and beautiful. He’s always had the prettiest eyes.

You’re still debating their color - more of a dark brown or maybe black - when he leans further in.

You half expect him to headbutt you when instead, his lips touch yours.

The kiss is so soft, you think you’re imagining it, along with the sigh that follows it.

But you’ve always been a realist, digging your fingernails into the skin of your arm to prove yourself you’re not dreaming. It hurts.

“Tenma?” You ask, breathless and floating, “Did you mean to do that?”

His face turns pale, eyes wide like those times you’ve pushed him into a cold shower to sober him up.

“SHIT!” He pulls away so quickly that you stumble, lose your balance and fall flat onto your ass.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Tenma’s rubbing his face with his hands, up and down, up and down, and you’re left sitting there, backbone hurting, the world spinning in the wrong direction.

“Okay, shit, this…” He’s folding himself into a tiny version of himself, just across from you on the cold sidewalk, “I didn’t meant to do this, okay? I know you think of me as your brother, so we can just pretend this never happened, okay? I’m drunk. You’re drunk. We’re going to have forgotten about this tomorrow-”

“Tenma?” You interrupt him, your voice weirdly cloud-like. “Are you in love with me?”

He deflates like a balloon, there’s even a little whistling sound coming out of his mouth when he further shrinks into himself.

“Maybe?” He squeaks out. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, though-”

“I love you too.”

There. You’ve said it. You can’t take it back. Maybe you’ve misunderstood a lot of things tonight, you’ll for sure be able to blame the alcohol for it, but you don’t kiss people you don’t like, right? Especially not if you waited twenty-two years for that. 

Wait, did Tenma even wait that long? Is this even his first kiss like it’s yours?

“Why didn’t you say something?”

You blink, shaken out of your musings by the petulance in his voice.

“You didn’t ask.”

.

- 24 -

You’re not sure what wakes you, but his side of the bed is empty and cold.

You push yourself up with a groan, hiss when your feet touch the freezing ground. 

You don’t have to look long to find him, hair disheveled, eyes foggy.

“Hey,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your chin on top of his head, “I miss you.”

“Sorry,” he yawns, “I’ll be in bed in a minute.”

“You said that four hours ago,” you remind him, leaning further into him, “can you still see what you’re drawing?”

“If I lose this idea-” he starts before a loud, jaw-cracking yawn cuts through his sentence. 

You unwrap yourself to dig your thumbs into his shoulders, press a well-aimed kiss underneath his left ear.

“Come to bed,” you're not surprised when he follows you without another argument.

Last week one of your coworkers mentioned off-handedly that your boyfriend looks like a delinquent, all long hair and dark shadows, the hint of a stubble and a shirt he forgot to iron.

You weren’t meant to hear it, you’re sure, but you don’t care anyway.

He curls around you now, long limbs and warm hands, head resting heavy on your chest.

You drag your fingers through his hair, up and down and up and down, tell him about all the plans you have until you fall asleep along-side him.

-

“Look at you,” Saeko pulls you into a hug, “You’re practically glowing.”

You snort. “Don’t tell that to my mom. She’s started asking about grandchildren.”

“Yours too?” Akiteru jokes, turning from you to Tenma. “Are your parents united on the grandchildren front or are they more like ours?”

“No, no,” Tenma shakes his head, “My mom is just as insistent that we get started. Our mom’s are best friends for a reason.”

“And they never tried to set you up?” Saeko waves at someone across the streat before dragging you onto the seat next to her, “I smell a story.”

“I’m not sure my mom really cared about it as long as we stayed friends,” you think back. “But there was that time when she asked me to stop taking baths with you.”

Tenma’s face turns pink.

“I remember that time well.” He laughs along with the others, but your hand finds his under the table, squeezes tight.

You like to think that he fell first but you fell harder, but he disagrees.

If anything, he likes to say, I love you most.

“I say,” Saeko interrupts your thoughts, slinging an arm around you, “we play it like your parents. We just have to have babies around the same time and the rest will be history.”

“Don’t get ideas,” Akiteru says but you know him, he’s just as helpless against Saeko’s charm as you are.

“Not the worst idea she’s had,” Tenma whispers into your ear.

.

- 26 -

“Morning Udai-San,” Akaashi greets you.

“I told you to call me by my first name,” you tell him, laughing when he blushes a soft pink. “How’s it going, anyway?”

“Good. We’re actually on schedule, but I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Hmm, I get it.” You resist the urge to tousle his hair. “Is Tenma in his office?”

“Yes, I was just going to get coffee. You want some as well?”

“No, but thanks for asking. What are you getting for Tenma?”

“Two shots of espresso and extra sugar.”

“Make it one shot and I’ll make sure you get a promotion,” you wink and he winks back, slipping out of the office.

.

“Baby?” You ask, slipping through the door.

Tenma’s leaning heavily onto his desk, one hand playing with his hair as he thinks.

“Hmm?” He sits up, opens his arms to welcome you. “Hey, what brings you here?”

“I left Naoki with Saeko and Mi, they were playing so nicely.”

He smiles as you plant yourself on his lap, sink into him like you’re not much bigger than your toddler and not the grown woman you are.

“You good?” Tenma asks, rubbing a hand over your back. “You seem in your head today.”

“Yeah, I am, I just…” You sigh and turn your head to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad you stayed my friend.”

“Where’s that coming from?”

“I was thinking about how I don’t have that much patience. I don’t know if I’d kept crushing on you for as long as you kept crushing on me. What if you’d have given up? We wouldn’t have gotten together.”

He hooks his head over yours, wraps his arms a little more snuggly around you.

“Listen, I didn’t stay your friend because I was hoping you’d one day see me as more. I stayed your friend because I’d rather have you as my friend than nothing at all. After all you’re the best friend I ever had.”

“Even though I made you play my husband, my dog and my dragon?”

“Especially because of that.”

.

“Did you have fun playing with Mi?” Tenma asks your thirteen-month-old. 

The bathroom door is open and you can hear them splash around in the bathtub.

“Mi,” Naoki repeats with excitement.

“Yep, Mi. Now, can you say Dada too?”

“Mama.”

Tenma laughs, easy and carefree and you leave the dishes in the sink in favor of joining him.

After all, the dishes won’t run away, but those little moments with your family might.

[drsbutmakeitspicy]

A bit in the future of the Single Dad!Carlos CarCar au:

Carlos was on a video call with other members of the team on a Friday afternoon of a rather cold day, a boring meeting that could have been an email, a meeting that he didn't even need to be part of. He could be relaxing analyzing some data he has been given early this morning while sitting on the bean bag by the baby mattress on the floor, where Catalina slept. Or he could be home by now, making dinner and washing clothes as she slept. His thoughts get interrupted by a knock at his door, before he can say anything Lando makes his way inside with Oscar right behind.

During non-race weeks the drivers had meetings with race engineer and strategists, sim work and marketing duties. 

“I'M DONE WITH TODAY, WHERE IS SHE?” Lando announced as he goes in, Carlos was glad he was muted.

”Lando! shh” Oscar says in a loud whisper, pointing to the toddler who now got her big brow eyes open and her faint eyebrows narrowed looking at Lando while still laying down. One of the many rules at the Sainz office was: Never wake up the baby, but if you do, you deal with her wrath.

She makes small whimpering noises as the first tears leave her eyes. “Oh baby girl, I'm so sorry.” he tells her in a sweet voice, crouching down with Oscar by his side watching the Brit try his best. Carlos keeps his eyes both on the call and the boys, watching the disaster he knows is about to happen.

As Lando picks her up she lets out a wail and cries loudly.  “No no no baby, Uncle Lando didn't mean to scare you!”

She is shoving his chest looking around searching for her father, still a bit confused from sleep. It was the worst choice Lando could make, he forgot that in situations like this Carlos lay down by her side and caress her hair until she falls asleep again.

He is also starting to panic as swaying her is not helping. Oscar sigh “Lina, baby.” He puts both hands in front of her, grabbing her attention. 

A gesture that she learned by the time she was 7 months old, he is asking if she wants him to hold her.

“Hey, it's not fair! She always wants you” and sure enough she extends her arms, small hiccups still leaving her mouth as she babbles nonsense for him. 

“You're okay baby, see? Uncle Lando didn't mean to scare you.” She is grabbing his shirt as he cuddles her close, swaying slightly.

Oscar makes eye contact with Carlos, who is up from his seat, ready to do something about the whole scene and watches his daughter rub her face on Oscar's hoodie - there's a chance she will fall asleep again, good. - he thinks as he sits down.

“In the kitchen fridge, inside the pink bag.” is all he says to the Aussie who already knows what to do. “Lan, let's give her a bottle and see if she will go back to sleep, maybe she will forgive you after.”

Lando just scoff with a disgusted expression “She absolutely love me Mr. Piastri! If you give me her right now you will see Uncle Lando is the best, aren't I, Catalina?”

“She will cry again, Lando. Just go to the kitchen while I deal with this meeting.” Carlos hands Lando a baby blanket and shoos them away, mouthing a ‘thanks’ to Oscar.

Before closing the door they can hear Carlos apologizing and asking someone to repeat the question. As it closes with a click they turn right on the corridor.

Lando has the baby blanket around his neck, walking a bit behind Oscar, faking that it's a fancy scarf, throwing it back and making silly faces which has earned him some giggles from the little girl that is laying her head on Oscar's shoulder.

“You cannot tell me she loves you more because you have sisters, mate.”

Oscar turns his face to look back at Lando, confused.

“Well, good. Cause I never told you that. I said I know what to do because I have 3 sisters and helped my mother with them growing up.” 

The small kitchen is not far from Carlos office as he is one of the few people that uses it.

“Then why is she so attached to you?”

Lando puts the tiny blanket on Oscar's shoulder as he goes to open the fridge, grabbing the pink bag and setting it on the table.

Oscar uses the corner of the blanket to wipe her tears. “I don't know.” She giggles when he nuzzles his nose on her hair, tiny hands grabbing the yellow blanket.“She just chose me, mate.” The beeping of the microwave grabs Lando’s attention. “See if it's the right temperature, I'll try to set her on the high chair.” Before Oscar can turn around-

“No high chairs.” He is surprised to see Carlos walk in. “Maybe if she agrees Lando can hold her as she drinks, no?” 

“Why no high chairs?”

“I'll explain later.”

Carlos ask Lando to pass the bottle checks it's temperature, he points for Lando to sit down on the big bean bag on the corner and turns to Catalina in Oscar's arms.

“C'mon princesa, you're probably hungry.” she goes with him easily babbling ‘papapapapa’.

“Be good Cariño” he tells her as he hands her to Lando who is distracting her with the warm bottle, pretending it's a plane.

The Brit sticks his tongue out in Oscar’s direction as if saying I won as she accepted the bottle from him. Drinking happily while looking around, trying to grab Lando's curls.

Carlos steps back to where the Aussie is, his fingers touching Oscar's in a light caress barely noticeable to others, repeating the motion enough times to make it known as not an accident. They stand there watching how Lina smiles with her eyes as Lando baby talks to her.

Oscar feels bad lying to Lando, but he also knows the Brit is horrible at keeping secrets, he doesn't know how Catalina is still a secret for the media.

He knows why Lina is attached to him, he just couldn't mention how many nights he spent at the Spanish man's house reading her stories, helping her with her dinner. He couldn't mention how he was there for them when she got the scary high fever Carlos always talks about. He couldn't tell Lando that he ended up falling for the man and god forbid he finds out they kissed for the first time last night. 

“You're drinking too fast Miss Lina, this is almost empty. Can she have another one ?” he looks at Carlos who takes a step creating a gap between him and the blushing Aussie.

“Only one is fine, try to burp her Lando, you remember how, no?”

“Pff, yea” As Lando gets in his own world talking to the toddler and patting her back Oscar takes his place back close to Carlos and laces their fingers, squeezing it twice.

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . . WHAT A STEAL!

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ not rlly any warnings i think!! basic sashisu x reader (suguru’s is prob a lil more obvious) u r just a victim of sashisu thievery 🫶🏾

SASHISU who steal your things.

your favorite pink beanie has gone missing. you wear it every time you go out, even around the house sometimes, but the hat has suddenly went MIA. last you saw, it was on your desk. and shoko was the last person in your room, but she doesn't seem to have your beloved hat. the four of you are heading out for brunch at some cafe satoru was going rabid about, so you don't want to keep them waiting over a beanie. it’s not until you settle for another and meet the trio at the door that you spot it on satoru’s head.

he doesn't show the slightest hint of guilt as you approach, in fact gojo acts like everything is normal. you'd find the sight of this 6 foot giant topped off with a baby pink beanie amusing if you weren't so annoyed in the moment.

“i have been looking all over for that!” you glare up at gojo, poking a finger in his chest.

and he just gives you a shit-eating grin. “oh, i know! looks like you finally found it, yeah?”

he thinks the little frown you give him is so cute, but gojo still pacifies your angry stare by engulfing you in his blue scarf. he taps a finger on your nose, and his eyes light up when you grin at him. you suppose this is a fair trade.

a brand new pair of pink slides that you just bought to wear around the house have suddenly disappeared clean from your bedroom. you wonder if you left them in shoko’s room, and search for her to ask.

“sho?” you call as you stick your head out onto the balcony. “have you seen my sandals?”

she’s leaning against the rail having a smoke, suguru sitting in one of the balcony chairs. your eyes gravitate to her feet as she asks, “which ones?”

‘which ones?’ you repeat mockingly in your head, staring at said shoes on her feet because she’s seemingly helped herself. along with a pair of your new socks, too, apparently?

"now, shoko-"

"okay, okay." she and suguru share delighted giggles. "can i wear them a little longer, until i finish this?" shoko lifts the glowing cigarette in her hand.

you huff, though unable to fight the way your lips curl up into a smile. "fine. i want them back right after, though. get your own slides."

she brushes you off with a turn of her head, giggling. "love you, y/n."

"yeah, yeah, whatever."

one. two.

one...two...

yep, one of your pillows is definitely missing.

it's not on the couch (like the last time gojo took it when he fell asleep there) and not in shoko's room (which you assume would make the most sense). you're headed to the guest room next to see if it's been misplaced there, but something feels off when you pass by suguru's open door. his eyes are on you as you step back for a doubletake, and find him relaxed atop a very out-of-place pink pillow on his black bedsheets.

"what, are your pillows not good enough?" hands falling to your hips, your head tilts, a brow raised at geto's unbothered reaction.

he replies with a languid smile. "i find yours a little more comfortable."

you hold your tongue on reminding him that you both went pillow-shopping together, so they're the same pillows. he holds his tongue on admitting that he also likes the way your scent calms his nerves and lulls him to sleep. you both decide it's not important, right now, anyway.

tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis @mysugu @hellkaiserinphoenix :3c

[xas24]

hellooo!! lmfao idk if its just me but am i the only one who noticed that pedri absolutely HATES the cold, or he just gets rly cold easily idk but the way he wears his puffer jacket is so cute, anyway i was hoping u could write something related to that?? love ur work btw !!!☺️

cold boy - pedri

summary: pedri visits england for the first time and realises that he was definetely not made for cold weather.

being from an island that is known for its hot temperatures, pedri cannot handle the cold that surrounds him in various areas of barcelona in winter, or anywhere that is close to a minus in the temperature. his coat would be clung to his body, begging for some sort of warmth in these freezing conditions, and this was something that didn't go unnoticed by y/n or many barça fans.

y/n thought it was absolutely adorable, the way he would shove his hands into the pockets of his coat, head and neck covered by the hood. sometimes she would fling her scarf around his neck, just so he could get that extra bit of warmth she knew his body very much needed.

currently, the two were in the uk, back in y/ns home town for a few days of the holidays. y/n was aware of how cold the temperatures usually are in england, which is why she’d made her boyfriend pack as many fluffy sweaters, puffer coats and beanies he had.

pedri was excited for the adventure, the new experience of visiting england, a place he had never been before, but most of all he was looking forward to meeting his girlfriends family once again. he knew how much they loved him, and likewise he enjoyed their presence and the positive, cheery aura her folks possessed.

what he wasn't mentally prepared for was how cold it would be. in all honesty, he thought y/n was exaggerating with the temperatures; he didn't think it would be this cold until it had smacked him right in the face. his nose and tips of his ears had instantly started to turn pink and his lips became chapped, yet he still put a smile on his face whilst greeting his girlfriend's family and laughing at their jokes of how the canarian was finding this freezing weather.

it was now the second day of the couple being in england, and pedri was slightly adjusting to the winter weather. when y/n had asked him to go down to the markets with her, he had refused as he didn't want to spend another second freezing his ass off outside.

but when she pouted and pressed a delicate kiss to his lips, he couldn't deny her anymore.

"thank you! i promise it'll be fun, its not that cold out today." y/n stated as she put on her puffer coat. just a quick look outside begged to differ but pedri huffed and put on his own coat, grabbing his gloves and his beanie before following her out the bedroom.

the two made their way downstairs and as y/n was grabbing her bag, she noticed how cute her boyfriend looked stood to the side, his hair and ears submerged into the wool of his beanie and his hands in his pockets.

she grabbed a scarf and smiled as she made her way over to him.

"here," pedri watched as she reached up and wrapped the scarf around his neck twice. she fluffed it up so he was fully covered, then kissed him on the lips. "now you won't feel as cold."

pedris heart practically leaped out of his chest at her gesture; his cheeks warmed with love and adoration for the girl infront of him, transforming his lips into a shy grin. his arms wrapped around her neck as he pulled her body closer to his so he could lay a kiss onto her lips properly, mouths slotting together and cold breaths mixing as he kissed his gratitude and love into her.

"thank you, but i think i'll still freeze to death." he whispered against her mouth once he pulled away.

y/n chuckled and pinched his side, eyes glaring up into his brown ones. "you'll be fine, stop being a baby."

pedri pouted and snuck his head into her neck. the warmth he felt, all snuggled up into her body with his arms around her waist, was unmatched - no cold could truly bother him whilst he was in his girls arms. he pressed a kiss to her neck and whined once again that he would rather stay inside.

"no, you're gonna have fun, trust me, amor. c'mon." she grabbed his hand, letting him kiss her cheek one last time before pulling him towards the front door.

she really wanted him to see her home town, the markets that she grew up going to every weekend, the views of the sunset, the lights that illuminated the night and kept the town awake, and especially the snow that made everything look like a fairytale.

pedri saw the excitement evident on her face, so his fingers tightened in her hold. he pulled her closer to his body and they both made their way down the streets and to the markets. they laughed and talked about whatever they wanted whilst the snow trickled down and the cold wind wafted around them but pedri could’ve cared less in that moment as he had his girl by his side.

[reaveries]

▬  a warm place for numb fingers (18+)

summary: after a conversation with a friend, tension arises between the reader and arthur. action is ultimately forced into her hands... or fingers, more like.

pairings: high honor!arthur morgan x female!reader

warnings: mature content (18+)// explicit descriptions of fingering, cunnilingus, and some good ol' fucking

word count: 5.7k (estimated 23-minute reading time)

a/n: this goes out to all the cold and horny girls out there. i see you and i salute you. enjoy the fic

masterlist archive of our own

The chill was an inescapable thing and it followed her closely wherever she went. It burned her face red whenever she emerged from the mining town cabins. When she’d been forced to ride against it in fierce storms, it possessed her hair to lash violently across her cheeks in a blinding fury. And once those storms passed, it continued to insatiably lap at any skin left exposed to its gnawing teeth. Numbness in her fingertips became commonplace, leaving her defenseless as her trigger finger trembled beneath thin leather gloves. Like a starved coyote, the chill searched for any scrap of flesh it could find and devoured it to the bone. It wasn’t forgiving, as nature often isn’t.

She draws her coat closer to her body now, but the little winds continue to hungrily nip at her cheeks and dust them pink. What once ravaged her has become meek since they’ve descended the peaks of the Grizzlies. But it’s still there, and will continue to be until spring thaws the world. 

“Can’t believe I’m lookin’ at one of the most wanted outlaws this side of the Dakota.”

She looks up from her feet and sees Karen smiling, holding a cigarette between her fingers. She brings it to her lips and draws out the smoke.

“God, if the Pinkertons knew how big of a baby you really are, maybe they’d have tried their luck in Colter,” she says with a cheeky grin.

“That’s the only way those fuckers could’ve taken me down,” the outlaw says, laughing bitterly into her scarf. “I’ve never done well in the cold. Every day that I wake up and can’t feel my toes, I’m closer to packing up and fleeing to New Austin. Thinking of building myself a house made of cacti.”

She walks through the frost-laden grass to where her friend stands, overlooking the Dakota river.

“You’re fulla shit,” Karen says, rolling her eyes. “The day you leave this bunch will be the day God, himself, shoots you off your horse. Got too much love in your little heart for the lot of us.”

The woman chuckles dryly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Got too much love for you, Karen,” she says in a sickeningly sweet tone and leans in, tilting her head dramatically to the side as if to give her a sloppy kiss.

“Get the hell away from me!” Karen screeches and fumbles to push her away. 

The outlaw stumbles backward lazily with her head thrown back in laughter.

“You play around too much, you know that?” Karen says, shaking her head, but the forceful tug on the right side of her lips gives her away. 

She smiles down her nose at the blonde woman, “Yeah, that’s what I keep hearin’.”

Once they both settle down, Karen extends the cigarette to her, offering whatever she can manage as it quickly dies out. She takes it between her forefinger and thumb and lets the smoke warm her from the inside.

“You know what I overheard some of the workin’ girls sayin’ when I was in town?” Karen speaks up as the smoke escapes the woman’s throat. 

She hums in question. Words out of the mouth of a working girl can hardly ever be taken for truth, but damn if they weren’t entertaining.

“Apparently, the number of clients they get skyrockets in the winter months. Somethin’ about men subconsciously wantin’ to be warmed up so they seek out activities that make ‘em break a sweat.”

She nods, “I guess that makes enough sense.”

Karen shakes her head, “That’s not all. The girls were also sayin’ that as it gets colder, the men are more and more riled up. Almost like it’s something with the moon, but instead of turnin’ into the dogman, they just wanna bury themselves in a woman real bad. But all I’m hearin’ while these girls are sayin’ this is that we got ourselves a bunch of fools too dumb to think clearly down in that little town.”

She stomps the life out of the cigarette with the toe of her boot, her spurs jingling as she drives it into the dirt. 

“Ain’t no way that’s true,” she says with a sardonic smile. “That last part, sure, but the moon’s got nothin’ to do with it.”

“Well, somethin’s gotta explain it,” Karen says and crosses her arms defensively across her chest. “I can tell ya, once it gets colder the men start lookin’ at ya different. I never noticed the link ‘till now but it kinda makes sense.”

She has to fight the laugh rising in her chest as she tries to seriously process the idea that men are becoming more aroused due to a giant orb in the sky. It takes everything in her not to but Karen sees right through her.

“It ain’t that ridiculous, you know. You can’t tell me you ain’t never noticed Arthur actin’ different.” 

The amusement rapidly drains from her face and is replaced by a look of bewilderment. 

“What are you talkin’ about Arthur for? Arthur and I are just friends, we ain’t like that,” she sputters out. 

“Oh, sorry,” Karen says, putting her hands up, “I forgot you was still on that.”

Her flustered reaction surprises even herself, causing a creeping warmth to crawl its way to her cheeks. A biting retort fumbles dumbly in her mouth.

“I’m not on anything. Don’t know what got in your head but it ain’t never been like that between Arthur and me.”

“It ain’t just in my head, honey. Everyone here knows it. You think folk ain’t seein’ the way you two touch up on each other the way you do? How neither of you goes nowhere without the other? Get real. It’s plain as day to everyone but yourself.”

She tosses a quick glance over her shoulder, hoping no one is near enough to hear their conversation. Instead, she sees that the camp has slowly come to life while she’d been distracted by Karen. Folk have begun their morning chores, migrating from washboards to clothing lines or splitting logs of wood in two. Her eyes flit across their faces until they land on the one she’s searching for. He’s far enough away, speaking with Pearson by the food supplies wagon. The cook waves his hands around animatedly but he’s turned away from her so she can’t tell what they’re speaking about. Arthur looks past the man and meets her eyes. He smiles and nods at her, to which she returns with a forced thin smile of her own. 

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Karen,” she mutters, and without turning to say goodbye, walks away.

And yet, Karen’s words burrow themselves deep within her mind and linger in the spaces between each normal thought as the day continues. Surely she'd been exaggerating and not everyone in camp suspects her and Arthur to be intimate with each other. Karen just thinks she knows more than she does sometimes. It was very much like her to be overly confident about certain things, proclaiming them as fact even past the point she knows she’s wrong. Then again, that also wasn't the first time someone had mistaken their closeness for something more amorous in nature. Dutch, having watched her throw an arm around Arthur and share from his bottle, assumed the pair had made themselves official. This prompted some proud fatherly spiel wherein he clapped Arthur on the back and congratulated him. It was vague enough that neither of them knew what he was referring to until later. Once they both realized, it gave them a good doubled-over, tears-from-the-eyes sort of laugh. But Arthur quickly cleared it up with the man, assuring him that there was nothing of that sort going on. Apparently, Dutch remained unconvinced.

As she sharpens her knife, an interesting thought intrudes past the others. For a moment, she wonders if Arthur might be an exception to this phenomenon the working girls were talking about. He never spoke of women the way that most men did. So, if he’d ever been interested in that sort of way, she wasn’t privy to it in the slightest. But, he’s still a man and he isn’t immune to the desires of men. Could it be possible that Arthur wishes for a woman to warm his bed at night? Or perhaps, on the coldest nights, a woman to warm himself inside?

Her blade slips against the whetstone and nearly slices her hand open as depraved imagery flies behind her eyes. She curses loudly and the knife drops to the dirt with a muffled thud.

A horse gallops and skids next to the hitching post beside her and the rider quickly flies off the mount, hitting the earth with heavy feet. She looks up from her hand and it’s him. There’s a pristine buck carcass flung over the back of his mare from a hunting excursion he must be returning from. 

“You alright?” He asks in a raised voice, meeting her with a walk that holds no patience. He looks down at her hands, likely expecting to see them covered in blood. His shoulders drop in relief when he can’t find any.

“I’m fine,” she says, standing up quickly and brushing dust off her pants. She forcefully clears her head of the intrusive thoughts, worried he might be able to see them if he looks too close.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, woman. Don’t know what I’d do if you went and chopped off your trigger finger,” he says, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“You’d have to find a new riding partner, that’s for sure,” she quips unenthusiastically.

A breath of laughter leaves his lips to tell her she’s being ridiculous.

“Naw… There ain’t no replacin’ you. Ain’t a single person here has what it takes to put up with half the shit you and I do. We’d just have to teach ya to shoot with four fingers.”

His tone is lighthearted but there’s a hint of sincerity to his words that makes her cock her head in intrigue. He notices the change in her expression and quickly backpedals.

“Ah, don’t let that get to your head, now! I can barely tolerate ya most days. There’s just… no denyin’ you’re one of the best shots here,” he says, avoiding her eyes.

She smiles smugly and pats his chest.

“Tell me something I don’t know, cowboy.”

“Like I said, I can barely tolerate ya,” he says, swatting her hand off him. “Anyways, you mind takin’ that buck to Pearson? I need to have a word with Dutch about tomorrow.”

“Sure thing,” she says and slips past him to retrieve the fresh game. 

She hoists the buck over her shoulder and nearly gasps from the unexpected weight. The animal is nowhere near light and it’s a wonder he managed to cleanly take down the thing. He looks over his shoulder at the sound of her boot scuffling in the dirt as she steadies herself. 

She stumbles over to Pearson’s wagon and throws the carcass down on the ground. The cook is nowhere to be found so she figures she’ll save him the trouble and put her sharpened blade to good use. The knife cuts cleanly through the skin like warm butter, separating the hide from tender pink insides. As she’s making the final incisions, she looks up from the gruesome sight and sees Arthur talking to Dutch outside his tent. He seems relaxed enough, his hands resting on the buckle of his gun belt while he talks. It’s something he does often, just like someone might stuff their hands in their pockets for the sake of keeping them occupied. An endearing little action. And yet, for some reason, the common and utterly insignificant act of him doing this makes her forget herself. 

Maybe it’s the suggestion of him holding a different object hidden beneath the confines of denim, right below his loose grip. Because the longer she looks, a vision of him taking himself into a fisted hand begins to overshadow her mind. He’s lying in his cot, and while everyone else huddles together for warmth in their makeshift beds, he’s fucking his hand in the darkness of his tent. His eyes are screwed shut and his mouth is parted slightly, but no noise escapes his lips to save himself the mortification of someone walking past and overhearing. He quickens the pace of his pumping hand and breathes out a quiet, ragged moan as he coats his stomach with ropes of sticky seed. His chest heaves, then slows to normal before he wipes the evidence away with a worn shirt.

Arthur looks at her with a confused look on his face. He waves a hand slowly in mock greeting to rouse her from her dazed state. Dutch, mid-sentence, turns to look over his shoulder, but she averts her eyes before they can meet his. 

“Holy shit,” she whispers. She frantically finishes skinning the deer with her chin to her chest to hide the furious blush tormenting her cheeks. 

Once she’s finished, she practically sprints back to her tent before Arthur can ask her what her deal is. She closes the flaps hastily and goes to sit on the edge of her bed to collect herself. 

It’s not like she’s never fantasized about a person before, and she’s taken people to her bed more times than she can remember. This flustered feeling isn’t rooted in some virgin-like innocence, and yet she might as well be a pastor’s daughter with the way she’s blushing over it.

It’s because it’s him. He’s her partner. Her friend. Someone who’s grown to understand her better than she understands herself. She’s been the same person for him ever since they crossed paths in Montana all those months ago. Many feelings, albeit platonic, have come and gone since that fateful encounter, but lust? Lusting after a friend may be the most foreign feeling she’s stumbled upon in all her years of living. 

A griminess so thick and so palpable enshrouds her, weighing heavily, filthily, on her skin. And there’s only one solution that comes to mind.

She straddles the firmness between her thighs as it bounces rhythmically beneath her. A moan unintentionally escapes her lips in response to the merciless feeling down below. Her blouse sticks to damp skin and plasters itself lewdly against the curves of her stomach and chest as her hips rock back and forth. Another moan. This one more pained than the last.

Her thighs have always burned something fierce whenever she’d mount her horse directly after a bath. Soft, herbal-scented skin would grate against thick cotton of riding trousers, eliciting the pained gritting of teeth. But this time, the minor uncomfortable sensation is preferable, simple, compared to the complexities of her consuming thoughts from earlier. A hot bath was her saving grace as it turned out. It cleared her head and made her feel like her normal self again. Whatever thoughts she’d been having of her partner had been washed away and left behind at the bottom of the steel tub like some tainted baptism.

She rides through the trees that fringe the perimeter of camp and calls out to Javier, who stands guarding the entrance. He gives her a short wave, and nothing else. The two of them haven’t talked much, despite having ridden together for over a year now. Most of the men in camp tend to keep to themselves, she’s noticed. It’s a shame the talkative Irish man went and got himself killed in Blackwater. He knew how to have a good time. He always claimed the two of them were kindred spirits, but she heavily denied it each time since it read like an insult. 

She swings herself off the saddle and, like a moth to a lantern, migrates toward the fire to warm herself. The sun has sunk beneath the horizon and with it any amount of heat it provided, leaving her a shivering mess. Dinner bubbles inside the stew pot, prompting her to grab a portion before taking a seat on one of the logs.

The fire is reduced to glowing embers that do little to warm her bones. She nudges the logs with her boot but they just shift and plume ash. Sighing, she tugs closed the lapels of her coat and brings a spoonful of venison stew to her lips. The steaming broth slides down her throat and settles in her belly, making a furnace of her stomach. It’s a nice feeling, one that quiets her mind.

Suddenly, the log shifts as someone sits beside her. 

“Where’d you disappear off to?” He asks. “I couldn’t find ya anywhere.”

Arthur settles to sit hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, a bowl of stew in his hands. He’s wearing a dark long-sleeve shirt and a light jacket, but not much else to protect him from the cold. In fact, when she looks around, no one else seems to mind the chill as much as she does. Maybe Karen was right in calling her a baby.

“Nowhere special. I just had to go into town for a bit,” she says, taking another sip of the stew. 

He nods his head, “Had to go into town and get yerself a bath, huh?”

She turns sharply to look at him, her brows drawn together in confusion.

“I could smell the lavender oil the minute ya hitched yer horse,” he explains. “What’s that about? Are ya plannin’ on finally actin’ like a lady or somethin’?”

She shoves his shoulder with her free hand.

“Shut up Arthur. You act more like a lady than I do,” she accuses. “Also, it might do ya good to take a bath for once.”

That last part she says a little lower than the first. Sometimes when they’d be out on extended errands they’d bathe in the river together. But no matter how much he scrubbed his skin, the stench of cigarette smoke and sweat would linger in the closed tent when she lay beside him in her bedroll at night. She always put up with it though because it likely meant she didn’t smell much better.

“The hell’s that s’posed to mean?” He asks, looking visibly taken aback.

“It means you smell like—”

“Naw, not that. Whatchu mean I act like a lady?”

“Oh. It means you’re goin’ all soft, big guy. Take it as a compliment,” she says, trying to suppress a smile.

“Great. First Dutch, now you. I ain’t goin’ soft, girl. And I sure as hell ain’t turnin’ into a woman,” he says, looking away from her and shaking his head. “As if you even knew what it meant to be one. Look at yerself!” He adds with an indignant wave of his hand that gestures from the top of her head to her feet.

She doesn’t need to look. Her coat is crafted from bear and bison pelts, made to fit a man larger than herself because the trapper lacked the expertise to tailor one for a woman. It keeps her warm enough, which is all that should matter. Wearing clothes that flatter her figure ranks relatively low on her list of priorities when every day is a fight to not freeze to death. On top of that, folk have always been mighty eager to remind her of her femininity whenever she dared step outside the docile role of her fairer sex. Which, in her line of work, was often.

“I’ll have you know I consider myself an expert on the matter… ma’am.”

She starts to snicker but when she looks over at him his jaw is set and he’s giving her a side-eye that makes the noise die in her throat.

“Keep callin’ me a lady and see where it gets ya, woman. Y’ain’t gonna be laughin’ when I’m forced to prove myself to ya.”

If there was ever any heat being produced in her body, it's all gone and rushed to her face just now. She stares at him, unblinking.

“What?” 

“Mm, s’what I thought,” he says, bringing a spoon of potatoes and broth to his lips. “Now, if you’re done foolin’ around, are you comin’ with us tomorrow or not? Dutch said you might but I know you’ve got a lot on your plate as is.”

He said he’d prove himself to her. Prove that he’s a man. There’s hardly any innocent way to interpret that.

“Tomorrow?” She asks. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

He looks at her all funny-like, slightly annoyed even.

“Did you drink the bathwater or somethin’? The O’Driscoll told us they was all holed up in some cabin not far from here. Mentioned Colm is with’em. I only told ya about it a handful of times.”

She hears him but isn’t really listening. The phrase repeats on a loop in her head. She wants to ask him what he meant by it but the moment’s passed and she knows there’s no real answer. If asked, he’d just say he was teasing her and there’s nothing more to it. 

He calls her name, bringing her out of her stupor. She opens her mouth to say something but the wind picks up. A bone-rattling shiver possesses her, making her shrink inside herself. He stares at her, unphased by the chill but with concern etched into his handsome features.

“Sorry, Arthur. I- I don’t know where my head’s at,” she says through clenched teeth.

“S’Alright,” he says, looking her over. “I forget how sensitive you are to the cold.”

He sets his bowl on the ground and brings his hands to cup around his mouth, heating them with hot breath. He then takes her hands into his and clamps around them, transferring warmth to numb fingers.

“Jesus, you’re freezin’,” he says.

He brings her hands close to his mouth and repeats the same action, trying to warm them back to life with his breath. He presses into her palms, massaging heat from the pads of his fingers into hers.

Had he done this simple gesture for her yesterday, she likely would’ve just felt grateful to feel her fingers again. But today isn’t like yesterday. Yesterday, she wasn’t acutely aware of the ever-present moisture nearly dripping down her thighs or the dull, aching pain at her core as it practically begs to be filled by a man. Yesterday, she didn’t envision that man to be Arthur. She didn’t envision herself blissed out and bouncing on his cock, being guided by his hands gripping her ass and forcing her all the way down on him every time. She also didn’t visualize their sweating naked bodies pressed against one another as he hoists her legs around his waist and fucks her relentlessly against the side of his wagon. Yesterday was, without a doubt, much easier than today. Today she’d thought of all these things and more.

She watches attentively how he holds her slender fingers in the thickness of his own. Those hands have snuffed out the lives of many, brutally at that. She’d seen them wrapped around the necks of men, crushing their windpipes and severing their spines when he’d been provoked on the wrong sort of day. Lots of blood on those hands. But there’s just as much on hers and in this moment, those blooded hands are so tender towards her. 

If these same hands could kill without remorse, yet be so gentle when the time came for it, then by God, what else were they capable of?

She slips her hands out of his faster than she intended to.

“Thank you, Arthur,” she whispers, looking away.

“Sure. Maybe that’ll help ya to start actin’ normal again. Get the blood flowin’ to yer brain and such.”

If only he knew it was doing the opposite. Blood is flowing elsewhere and she’s the furthest from normal she’s been in a long while.

She stands up, leaving the bowl of stew unfinished on the ground.

“Here’s hoping,” she says, her hands clasped together to preserve his heat. 

Her boots crunch ice-bitten dirt loudly beneath their heels as she makes her way through the quiet camp and to her tent. She doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until the flaps close shut behind her. 

“What… What is wrong with you?” she asks no one. Her tent is empty, and even though she wants to be alone, this is no comfort.

Her palms dig into the concave of her eye sockets, rubbing them furiously to wake herself up. She groans and shrugs off her coat, letting it collapse onto the floor. Her boots are kicked off her feet and her shirt is made quick work of before it’s thrown violently across the room. Her pants meet the same fate, being unbuttoned and kicked off, then kicked again so they lie atop the other garments. She collides with her mattress in a huff and lies there to stare at the ceiling of her tent, chest rising and falling rapidly.

She’s not going to be laughing when he’s forced to prove himself to her. 

Why is that phrase repeating over and over in her head? More importantly, why is she closing her eyes and slipping her hand beneath the waistband of her combinations?

She pauses. It’s wrong to do this. So wrong. To touch herself with visions of him in her head is sick. But she needs it so badly, so desperately she needs this to be taken care of. The throbbing at her core ultimately wins over her conscience, and forcefully pushes guilt to the side.

Her fingers slide between the delicate folds down below, the slick moisture coating her digits easily. She imagines it’s his hand. Large and warm, playing with her and teasing out moans by dancing around her clit. He asks her if it feels good, but only incoherent noises leave her lips. 

He chuckles and the breath of his laughter hits her center as he dips his head between her thighs. Lips replace fingers, sucking and leaving open-mouthed kisses heavy with tongue, ravishing her like a starved man. Her thighs clench around him and her calves tremble against his bare back. She whispers praises to him when she can find the words. 

Please keep going. You’re doing so good. So good.

Both of her hands tangle themselves in his hair. She can’t help but pull on the strands the minute he slides his thumb inside her all the way to the knuckle. Her back arches off the cot at the sudden sensation but he pulls her back down, locking her in with a hand wrapped around her thigh. She can feel him smile against her, momentarily letting up the relentless forces of his mouth. He’s loving watching her squirm beneath him, because of him. 

But the combined sensation of his thumb fucking her and the concentrated movements of his tongue at her clit nearly drive her to the edge. She squirms and brings her knees up around him, causing him to pull away and leave her empty.

Ya have to keep still, darlin’.

He coaxes her legs back open, spreading them apart with firm hands. But before he can return, she whispers desperate words that fall sweetly on his ears. He changes direction and begins to kiss his way north, traces of her still on his lips as they press wetly to her stomach, then her breasts, and then her neck. While he trails up her jaw, she tugs down his union suit from where it gathers at his hips. He assists her clumsily by shaking it off his legs and kicking it to the floor, where it now lies atop her own discarded clothing.

Before he takes her, he hovers on rested elbows and searches her face for any sign of reluctance. Only half of his features she can see clearly as warm oranges and yellows flicker across it from the lantern at her bedside. The fringe of his hair tickles her forehead, teasing her into closing the distance between them. With a hand on the back of his neck, she brings him down to her level and connects their lips. Their mouths move roughly against one another, their noses squishing and bending against the pressure of their touch. 

He’s warm, so warm. His mouth is hot against her tongue and the points on her body where the two of them meet are ablaze with a fire that spreads down, and down, until it rests in a sweltering mess at the apex of her thighs. She needs him, were the words she’d whispered. And she needs him now. She reaches down between their two bodies to where his cock grazes against her legs and with a sure hand, takes hold of it and guides it to her entrance. She can’t see it but it feels thick in her grasp; her hold not permitting thumb and forefinger to meet. 

The head slips gently inside and opens her up to him with a slow, shallow movement of his hips. He removes his lips from hers and rests his forehead against her own, looking down and indulgently watching himself disappear inside of her inch by inch. It fills her deliciously, stretching her open until he eventually bottoms out and their pelvises lie flush with one another. She lets out a sharp exhale at the contact, knowing he’s sheathed fully inside of her. Before he moves again, she brings her legs around his waist and crosses her ankles so his movements are limited to being shallow and forceful. 

The cot squeaks beneath them as he pulls out and thrusts back in, slow at first. He quickly picks up the pace, pistoling his hips to give short thrusts that fill her to the hilt each time with a near-bruising force. One hand wraps around the meat of her thigh and another hand starts rubbing furious circles at her clit. She throws her head back with a wide-opened gasp at the explosive euphoric sensation of being filled by him and the simultaneous attention given to the sensitive nub. He goes even faster when he sees how close she is, and within seconds she unravels beneath him. 

She notices through her clouded gaze his brows screwing together and lips parting as her soft muscles throb around the swell of his cock. It’s too much for him. He hurriedly pulls out and releases himself on her belly, coating it with spurts of his seed. He looks at her breathlessly through hooded eyes.

The two of them lie panting, him still stationed between her legs with a heaving chest and weary gaze. He leans down and places a chaste kiss on the inside of her thigh before slumping beside her and laying there in his nakedness.

She cums hard against diligent fingers. Hot and tingly ecstacy spreads from her core throughout her limbs, fluttering her eyes to the back of her skull and leaving her a panting mess. Once that passes and the drowsiness that always follows a dumbing climax sets in, she realizes she’d conjured a strange ending to her fantasy. It was one of genuine intimacy, not driven by the carnal desires of her body. 

Thankfully, sleep takes over before she can begin trying to process whatever that means. She drifts off as remnants of pleasure buzz beneath her skin and warm her beneath ticking sheets.

Morning comes quickly, and the accompanying chill of a new day forces her off the cot in search of heavier clothing. She pulls fleece-lined chaps over jeans and buttons them at the waist before throwing on the bear coat she’s worn every day since Colter. As she slips her arms into the clothing, she thinks back on last night. There’s no reason to make a big deal of it. Surely men get off with much worse ideas in their heads about the people they know. She hopes all of that is behind her now that it’s been forced out of her system.

But this is not the case. 

This hope is massacred in vain shortly after being conceived. For the day is ablaze with yearning, shame, and raging inferno. 

Accompanying Arthur to the hideout was soon realized as a mistake. Every small, inconsequential thing he did served to stoke the fire blistering her loins. Every word whispered atop the secluded hillock, every incidental brushing of skin, and every intentional one too. It all fanned incessantly at consuming flames.

She rides back to camp alone with heavy pockets and a heavier conscience. And as she approaches the grounds, she sees her friend, the blonde woman, standing guard outside. Without thought, she throws her reins and swings herself off the horse, hitting the earth hard and swift. A blustering storm brews inside her, fighting against fire and losing. She approaches Karen, treading heavily over branch and stone, a wild look in her eyes.

“Karen!” She calls out.

The woman turns to face her, her rifle lowering just as quickly as it’s raised.

“Oh, it’s just you. You here to tell me I don’t know what I’m talkin’ about again? If so, you can keep on walkin’, bigshot.” 

She sighs and runs a frustrated hand through her wind-tangled hair.

“No! No, I- I didn’t mean it,” she says, with an unmistakable sound of desperation in her voice. “Karen, you were right.”

Karen’s tensed shoulders sink beneath her coat and her features soften. She doesn’t seem to understand, but she’s no longer angry. It’s difficult to be when her friend stands before her, uncharacteristically vulnerable and fumbling with words.

Whatever forces are at work here, be it the chill, the moon, or an unknown third thing, it can be certain she is out of her depth, adrift in deep ice waters. And he is calling to her like a siren’s song but she knows it is an illusion she has conjured up and there is no solace allowed to be found there. He cannot take her like she needs so deeply to be taken by him. It would ruin them, for certain. Because they are not a wholesome people, and despite that, their bond has been forged by goodness. Something like that is uncommon for folk like themselves. It should be held closely, protected from whatever may destroy it, even if it is from herself. It’s for that reason she withdraws her hand, rides alone, averts wandering eyes, and tries her utmost best to quench the flames.

And yet, it has been only a day. 

“You were right.”

[fettuccin-e]

As Long As I Want

so yeah i may have not posted a fic in two months and WHATABOUTIT no i'm kidding i'm really sorry for the little hiatus!! my pedro pascal obsession circa 2021 has relapsed and i'm terribly sorry lol so yeah pls enjoy this short little fic that is only about sucking frankie's dick

Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, fem!reader, oral (m!recieving), size kink, deep throating, this is so nasty lol (w/c: 1.5K)

Francisco Morales is a pretty unassuming man. He’s tall and lumbering, but his patchy beard and ever-present baseball cap allow him to sink into the background of most things, which is exactly where he likes to be. He isn’t a standout, he knows that, and he’s plenty content with it. As long as you love him, he’s just fine.

And you do, god, you love him. You try to tell him constantly, try to express how fucking hot you find him, even if he shrugs you off with a shy chuckle and a blush on his scruffy cheeks. With his pretty dark eyes and soft hair, how he towers over you and how his broad chest presses against your back when he hugs you from behind, and when he fucks you from behind. Frankie is, by far, the sexiest man you’ve ever seen, and somehow, he’s yours.

And, as unassuming as he is, Frankie also has the fattest, biggest cock you’ve ever seen.

He hides it behind baggy jeans and boxers, but you pride yourself on being very, very familiar with it. It took the first six months of your relationship to take it all the way into your cunt, the thickness of it stretching you till you thought you were bound to break, the length of it bullying so deep you thought you would feel it in your fucking throat. Even now, four years later, you still need to be prepared thoroughly before taking Frankie, a process that he takes great joy in.

Frankie will spend hours between your thighs, sucking at your clit and fucking you open on his calloused fingers until you’re sobbing and shaking. He loves to pull your thighs apart when you try to close them, keeping you wide open and dripping for him. You beg for him to fuck you, that you’re ready, but Frankie also loves to ignore you, content to keep lapping at your twitching cunt, murmuring a, “quiet, princesa, I’m working.” You want to strangle him. 

You also love him so much that it hurts sometimes. 

He’s perfect, everything is perfect, except for the fact that, although he’ll spend an entire night eating your pussy like a man starved, he won’t let you return the favor. You can count the amount of times in four years that Francisco Morales has let you suck his cock on one hand, and you wouldn’t even use all of your fingers. Whenever you’re between his legs, working him between your lips, inch by thick inch, he always wrenches you off him with a grip in your hair, before he bends you over and fucks you until your pussy is gaping and your brain is mush.

But you know you’ve got him this time. His hands are bound with a silky scarf around the head board, the pinkness of his blush spreading down to his chest as he watches you with heavy eyes.

“Princesa, please, just- you can sit on my face, yeah? And do what you want to me, but baby, I just gotta...I gotta make you feel good, please?” he grunts with that deep voice of his, raspy and needy.

You kiss him softly as a reply, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Frankie,” you whisper. “I want to suck your cock today. I told you that, baby, didn’t I?” Frankie nods tentatively. You grin at the way his lips part, big eyes watching you like you’ve hung the moon and stars, just for him. “Then you’re going to shut up and let me suck you as long as I want, you got that?”

Frankie nods again, and nearly whines when you pull away from his face, brushing your lips down, down. You lick over the softness of his stomach, around where his cock, throbbing and red and dripping, lays against it. You avoid sucking the sticky tip into your mouth right away, instead moving lower to bite at his quivering thighs. You can hear Frankie’s breaths growing louder, desperate for your touch. 

“Please, mi vida,” he whimpers, hips bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burn at the sound of his own desperation, but when you smile at him, almost shyly, at his words, it almost becomes worth it.

“Okay, Frankie,” you whisper, and he gasps when you move back up his body, ever so slightly, to lick hungrily over the length of his cock, moaning at the taste.

He groans deep in his throat at the feeling of your hot tongue trailing over the veins and crevices of him, memorizing every thick, throbbing inch. You make your way up until you reach the tip, and, with one final glance at Frankie, his pupils blown wide as he meets your gaze, you close your plush lips around the tip.

Frankie’s back arches, just a bit, off the bed when you suck hard on the tip of his cock, tongue dipping into the slit as you swallow everything he has to give. “Ah- oh God, oh God, por favor, baby,” he whines, not even knowing what he’s begging for from you.

But you know, you always know. 

You can’t exactly smile around Frankie’s cock, not with your mouth stretched as wide as it is around the girth of him, but it’s a near thing. You slide down the length of him, tongue running along every new inch you let into your pretty mouth, watching as Frankie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, soft stomach heaving with every labored breath.

You brace yourself with your nails digging into his thighs as you push down even further, the tip of him finally budging into the back of your throat, and though you try to swallow around it, you can’t help but gag a little.

Frankie’s eyes snap open at the feeling and sound, his body going suddenly still. “Baby, do you need to stop? Fuck, you can stop if it’s too much, we can just-” You shake your head gently, not daring to slide him out of your mouth just yet. “Okay, okay, mi vida,” he breathes. “Just, please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You could never, you want to say, but your mouth is far too preoccupied. Instead, you push just a little further, shoving him just another inch into your drooling mouth.

Frankie never lets you do this, never lets you have your fill, and you’re drunk off the taste of him, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the tip lodges in the back of your throat. And even as it does, even as his fat cockhead makes you choke, you keep sinking down.

He slides deep into the length of your throat, forcing you to breathe through your nose. Your eyes are watering at the stretch of him, your nails digging little indents into his hairy thighs. You fucking love it.

Frankie loves it too, evidently. With every inch, he whines, crying your name in stuttered gasps. You just keep moving, bobbing your head up and down just slightly to get more and more of him in, until you finally, finally, reach the thick base of his cock, the wiry hairs tickling your nose.

“Oh God, fuck princesa, you’re so perfect. Shit, your mouth is so good, you- you’re so good to me, baby, oh fuck, no one’s ever gotten this far, I-I-” he gasps, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut.

Oh. Your head feels like it’s underwater, delirious with the fact that you’re the only one to ever do this for Frankie. The only one that can do this for him.

You gaze up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, pretty and needy. He blinks his eyes open, looking down at you when you stop moving, utterly still with his cock buried deep inside your throat. You, all pretty with your cheeks flushed and eyes watery, lips stretched wide and sticky and utterly obscene. You gaze back, your stare unrelenting, and suddenly swallow hard around the entire length of him.

Frankie nearly screams at the feeling, completely unreal and new. “Ah- ah!”

And you just keep doing it, bobbing slightly while you milk him with your hot, wet throat. Overwhelmed tears are leaking down Frankie’s face, his hips hitching up just barely to meet the minute movements of your head.

“I- Princesa, I’m gonna- I can’t hold it, ‘m sorry, can’t- it’s so good, too good mi vida, I-”

Frankie tries to pull his hips back, but you hold yourself onto him, keeping him buried within you as he spills hot, sticky cum down your throat.

You keep sucking him, milking him as the last dregs of his orgasm die away, before finally pulling yourself off him.

“Good?” you whisper, you voice sounding raspy and fucking used.

Frankie’s eyes widen in shock. “Good? Holy fucking shit, baby,” he mutters, head thrown back to look up at the ceiling, as if to ask God is she being fucking serious right now?

“You untie me, right fucking now, princesa. I’ll show you how ‘good’ that was. Until you pass the fuck out.”

[devildomcuties]

84: “I want to feel you inside” with mammon and fem reader please!!

Coming In First

pairing: mammon x f. reader

warnings: illegal drag racing, car sex, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie

The crowd lined the sides as Asmo stood between the two cars with a pink scarf in his hand. Mammon wasn't sure who the new racer was, but he didn't care. He had a lot riding on this race and had to beat this last opponent to make bank.

Mammon couldn't lie, he was stressed. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he revved his engine. His eyes were glued to his younger brother as the car beside him revved its engine.

"Ready!" Asmo shouts over the noise. "Set!"

Mammon rolls his eyes. Leave it to Asmo to drag this out. He would have come to the race alone if Asmo hadn't caught Mammon sneaking out of the House of Lamentation.

"Go!" Asmo pulls his hand down with the scarf and both racers take off. The roads are empty thanks to other people blocking them off.

Mammon slams the gas as he goes forward, aware of the racer beside him right on him. He swerves around a curb, then glides down the hill before hitting a sharp turn.

He grips the steering wheel tightly. He glances in the rearview mirror to see headlights behind him. He growls, slamming the gas as he swerves around a turn as the other car passes him.

"Fuck!" Mammon curses as he slams the steering wheel. He tries to catch up but the racer leaves him in the dust just as the finish line comes into view.

The crowd gathers at the bottom, waiting to see who the winner will be. Despite Mammon's best efforts, he comes in second. He curses, groaning as his car stops. He gets out of it, as Asmo goes to congratulate the winner.

The car door opens, and Asmo giggles as kisses their cheek once their helmet comes off.

Asmo moves out of the way and Mammon gasps when it's you who accepts the trophy filled with Grimm, his Grimm.

“Treasure!” Mammon calls out as he pushes through the crowd around you. You hand your winnings off to Asmo before you throw yourself at Manmon.

“I won!” You cheer as you kiss his face. Mammon wraps his arms around you.

“How’d you find out I was racing?” Mammon asks as the crowd disperses to end the night.

"Well, you always sneak out of bed on Saturday night, and I know there's nothing you love more than sleeping with me. So I followed you. I didn't think I'd win," you giggle as you hug him again.

"You little sneak," Mammon laughs as he kisses your head. He turns to his brother and tosses him your keys. "Take her car home."

Asmo nods, waving at the two of you as he places your trophy and Grimm in the passenger seat. He revs the engine before he takes off down the road, music blasting from the speakers.

"What do you have planned, baby?" You ask Mammon as he leads you to his car. He opens the passenger side door for you, helping you in before he gets in his seat.

"Gonna take you out," he says as he laces his fingers with yours, driving to the highest peak in the Devildom.

The sky looks beautiful. Mammon pulls his seat back, helping you into his lap.

"Congrats, Treasure. Who knew you had in ya," He teases as you place your hands on his shoulders. He moves his hand from your hips to your ass.

"I'd like to have you in me," you respond as you grind on him. Mammon moans as he kisses you, his teeth gently tugging your bottom lip.

"Soon, Treasure. I'll give you just what you need," Mammon assures you as his hands move upward to cup your breasts. He's a little reckless when he rips your shirt down the middle. Your bra nearly goes with it but Mammon undoes the hooks easily and tosses it in the passenger seat. His lips meet your skin, kissing from one breast to the other before taking a hard nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck, Mammon," you curse, arching into him.

So glad you wore a skirt, Treasure. Otherwise, I'd have to rip through denim and delay our gratification," Mammon grins as he bunches your skirt at your hips. He pushes your panties aside, groaning when his fingers meet your arousal. He slides two inside, curling them as his thumb finds your clit.

His name escapes you. Your greedy hands tug on his pants, palming his cock hungrily.

"Fuck me, please!" you beg, nearly in tears as you fuck yourself on his fingers, soaking them.

"So needy," he smirks. "Fucking yourself on my fingers like a good little slut. I want to feel you inside. Wanna stuff you full of my cock," Mammon groans when you kiss him, your tongue meeting his, sucking it before you unzip his pants and pull out his thick cock.

"Mammon!" You whine, as he slowly removes his fingers from your cunt. He sucks each of them clean as he locks eyes with you. He laughs when you grab his cock, line it up at your entrance and slide home.

You moan loudly, and your nails dig into his arms as you bottom out. Mammon curses, and he kisses you hungrily. You'd love to take your time with him, to fuck him until morning but you know Lucifer will be calling you two soon, asking where the heck you've snuck out to. You're sure Asmo will keep your prizes safe but if Lucifer spots him, you'll all be in trouble.

At the moment, Mammon doesn't care. He's too riled up by you riding his cock like you'll never get to again. He'd love to fuck you on the hood of his car and would love to see the mark of your body when he presses you against it.

Mammon holds your hips, slamming into you over and over as your eyes roll back and his name fills the air as you orgasm with trembling thighs and loud cries of his name.

"That's it, Treasure. Cum all over my fucking cock," Mammon encourages as you tighten around him. Mammon fucks you through your orgasm, praising you as you clutch his shoulders. His lips meet yours as you shake.

"One more time for me, Treasure. Can you do that?" He asks softly. You nod, kissing him as his hand moves between your bodies to rub your clit. You grind on him, cursing as your body grows hotter until Mammon has you cumming again. He fucks you through it, moaning when he cums inside you.

"Fuck," he pants as he leans back in his seat. You giggle as you lean back, startled when the car horn goes off. Mammon laughs as he tugs you into his chest, holding you tight.

"I love ya, Treasure."

"I love you, Mammon," you say sincerely as you rest your head on his chest. Mammon rubs your back in slow circles as you catch your breath. He'd hate to pull you off him but he knows he should get you home.

"Come on, Treasure. We need to get you to bed."

"But I want to stay here," you whisper. "With you."

"We'll be more comfortable in my bed," Mammon says with a smile. He takes his shirt off to cover you up. You thank him as he sets you in the passenger seat. He fixes your skirt and panties, patting your cunt.

"Keep my cum inside you until I get you home. I've got plans for us," Mammon smirks as he turns on the car. You flush with heat, nodding as you buckle your seat. You press your thighs together, eager to get home.