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#but it’s just a little baby! a little guy!
pucksandpower · 2 days
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So Good to Me
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc is the perfect man for you … getting stopped on the street for a random TikTok challenge just serves to prove that even further
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The warm Monaco sun beats down on you as you stroll leisurely along the bustling sidewalk, a canvas tote bag filled with fresh produce and flowers from the local farmer’s market hanging from your shoulder. The salty sea breeze wafts across your face, carrying with it the excited chatter and laughter of tourists admiring the luxurious yachts bobbing in Port Hercules.
You smile to yourself, relishing this perfect Mediterranean afternoon. Just a quick stop at home to drop off your purchases, and then maybe you’ll take a dip in the infinity pool on the terrace to cool off before Charles is done with-
“Excusez-moi, mademoiselle!” A young man’s voice breaks through your daydreaming. You glance over to see a twenty-something guy with a neatly trimmed beard, expensive-looking sunglasses, and a black t-shirt emblazoned with HUSTLE in white block letters. He’s holding a mini microphone and has his iPhone pointed at you, clearly filming.
A TikToker.
You sigh internally but force a polite smile.
“Oui, puis-je vous aider?” You reply in French.
“Ah sorry, I don’t speak much French! Do you speak English?” The TikToker asks eagerly in a British accent.
“Yes, I do. Can I help you with something?” You say, switching to English yourself. You just want to get home but you know these influencer types can be annoyingly persistent.
The TikToker grins. “Brilliant! I’m doing a social experiment for my followers. I was wondering — do you have a significant other? A boyfriend or husband perhaps?”
You raise an eyebrow questioningly but decide to humor him. “Um, yes, I have a boyfriend,” you answer simply.
His eyes light up. “Fantastic! And would you say your boyfriend loves you very much?”
You can’t help but chuckle at the boldness of this stranger’s line of questioning. “Yes, I would definitely say that. He loves me a lot,” you confirm, a soft smile playing on your lips as you think of Charles.
“Perfect! Okay, here’s the challenge,” the TikToker announces dramatically, staring intensely into his camera. “I want you to call up your boyfriend right now and ask him to send you some money. Doesn’t matter how much. But for every €100 he sends, I’ll give you €20 to keep for yourself. Let’s see how much he really loves you, shall we?”
You stare at this guy incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. Is he serious? He clearly has no idea who your boyfriend is. An amused smirk spreads across your face as you fish your iPhone out of your designer purse.
“Alright, you’re on,” you say confidently, already unlocking your phone and tapping on Charles’ contact. The TikToker looks surprised but excited that you actually agreed to his silly challenge.
“Put it on speaker phone,” he instructs, zooming his camera in on your phone screen which is now dialing Charles.
After a few rings, the warm, honey-smooth voice you adore comes through. “Allô mon amour, what’s up?” Charles greets you sweetly. “I’m just finishing up some simulator runs but I should be done soon to help with dinner.”
“Hey baby,” you reply, your voice automatically softening. “Sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy. But I’m out right now and I just passed by that little boutique near the casino, you know the one? And I saw the most incredible pair of shoes in the window. I swear they were calling my name.”
Charles laughs affectionately, the sound like music to your ears even through the cell phone speaker. “Oh yeah? The ones that were calling your name last week turned out to be, what was it, €900?” He teases.
You roll your eyes playfully even though he can’t see. “Okay, fair, but you know I hardly ever splurge on myself. I’m usually so frugal!”
“Mmhmm, whatever you need to tell yourself, chérie,” Charles says wryly and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Let me guess, you need to go get these dream shoes right now? Or else they’ll haunt you forever?”
“You know me so well,” you gush dramatically. “I promise I’ll pay you back though! I get paid next week and-”
“Hey, hey, stop,” Charles cuts you off gently. “Mon cœur, you never have to pay me back, you know that. I love being able to treat you and spoil you. You deserve the world. Never forget that.”
You feel yourself melt at his earnest words, momentarily forgetting you have an audience. “I love you so much,” you murmur. “Thank you for always being so good to me.”
“Right back at you, ma belle. Je t’aime,” Charles says tenderly. “There, check your banking app. Let me know if you need any more. And have fun shopping! I’ll see you at home in a bit, okay? À bientôt!”
You glance down at your phone as a notification from your bank pops up on the screen. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the amount Charles sent over, but you recover quickly.
“Thank you, baby. See you soon!” You reply before hanging up. You turn back to the TikToker who is gaping at you in disbelief. Casually, you turn your phone screen towards him and his camera so he can clearly see the notification that €10,000 has just been deposited into your account.
The poor guy looks like he’s about to pass out from shock. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, rendered speechless. You just laugh good-naturedly.
“Well, guess I won your little challenge, huh?” You remark, slipping your phone back into your purse. “Tell you what, why don’t you donate whatever money you were going to give me to a local animal shelter instead? I think it’ll be put to much better use there.”
The TikToker finally manages to pick his jaw up off the floor. He laughs shakily and nods. “Yeah ... yeah I can do that. Wow. Um, thanks for being such a good sport about this. And congrats on, uh, winning, I guess?”
You give him a friendly wink. “Anytime. Have a nice rest of your day!” With that, you turn gracefully on your heel and continue on your way back home, feeling rather smug and deeply appreciative of your wonderfully generous boyfriend.
“Wait!” The TikToker calls out after you. You glance back over your shoulder curiously. He hesitates before asking in an awed voice, “If you don’t mind me asking ... who the hell is your boyfriend?”
An enigmatic smile plays on your lips. “No one special really,” you reply breezily. “Just a guy who loves driving fast cars.”
You leave the gaping TikToker in your wake as you saunter off, already daydreaming about showing your appreciation to Charles later for being the most incredible boyfriend imaginable.
Maybe you really will splurge on those designer shoes after all … and pick up a little something special from the lingerie boutique next door while you’re at it.
Your smile widens. Just as a little thank you to your man, of course. Life is good when you’re in love with Charles Leclerc.
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Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.
“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”
Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.
The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.
“Are you sure?”
And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.
The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.
Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.
“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”
Not ominous at all.
Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 
He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.
Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.
The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)
He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.
One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.
Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.
Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.
It’s… nice. A good break if anything.
They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.
“Hi there! Is he yours?”
Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.
“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.
He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.
“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”
Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)
“Sure.”
Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.
“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”
Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.
“Grayson.”
Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.
Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.
Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.
“Funny guy, huh Dami?”
Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.
“Come here, little guy.”
He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.
“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.
Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.
That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.
“Damian,” Batman whispers.
“Bah-mun.”
The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.
Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.
Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.
Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.
“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”
Danny says it so plainly. So simple.
Batman straightens.
“He isn’t yours.”
He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.
Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.
So Damian says nothing.
“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.
“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”
“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.
They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.
“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”
When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.
The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.
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Little Baby Man King
Batman had underestimated the cult. He’d been captured—as Bruce Wayne, no less—and been stripped of all the items on his person before being tied up in a strange device, half-technology and half–magic circle.
And they began to chant.
His hands worked at the bindings. They’d been tied well, and only had a tiny amount of give, but he’d escaped similar binds before. But it could take time. Time he didn’t have, if the increasing fervor of their words and thrumming of the circle gave any indication.
Still, he continued his work.
Suddenly, something seemed to crack and the temperature in the room plummeted. A fissure appeared in the ring, leaking Lazarus-green light. No, that was an understatement. Lazarus Water was just a sickly imitation of the glow emanating from the rift.
Bruce felt the ropes around his wrist finally come loose, but he worried it was too late as the crack expanded to fill the circle with swirling green.
A hand reached out from the depths.
A very small hand.
The figure that emerged was not some towering conqueror. It was a child.
A very cranky child.
“What the hell do you people wan— Dad?!”
what the fuck, did the cult forcibly make him adopt some otherworldly child-entity?
Danny could be forgiven for yelling and mistaking some guy for his father, alright?
He was exhausted! He’d been having a shitty day! Cut him some slack!
First he’d been physically de-aged into a toddler, he deserved to be pissed off about that. He was in college, damn it! How was he supposed to work like this? And to make things worse, some idiots had to go and tear a hole into the Ghost Zone. But not just that—nooo, that’d be too easy—they had to tear a hole right into the middle of Pariah’s Keep and nearly free him. Meaning that Danny, as the Zone’s own Designated Problem Solver Ghost King, has to go fix that.
The sooner he could get home and take a nap, the better.
At least now he has some fruitloops to take out his frustration on.
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screampied · 6 hours
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toji realizes he’s in love with you when he lets you shave his face for the first time,
he’s got the biggest grump of a scowl plastered on his naturally crooked lips. as he’s glowering, he’s also trying to prevent himself from smiling because you looked so cute. your touch with him was gentle—like it always was. after you wiped his face with a dampened face towel, you rub your hands against the lower part of his jaw. “soooo,” you utter, breaking the dead silence as he’s just peering down at you. “tell me ‘bout your day, toji.”
with the palms of your hands tenderly caressing against his chiseled jawline—you smear every part of his chin and cheekbones with shaving cream. even the secluded areas underneath his nose. as you do so, toji tchs. “day was fine, baby. ‘n i told ya i can shave myself.”
“i know i know,” you hum, creating a circular motion with your hands before gently making sure every sector near the lower part of his face was lathered with nice frothy amounts of shaving cream. “wowww, you’ve got such soft skin. skin routine when?”
“ugh, y’er insufferable,” he rolls his eyes. although, his skin was surprisingly clear. toji only had a bit of a stubble, hardly any facial hair but it was growing the more he aged. you took it upon yourself to ask to help him shave and he said yes, not realizing how much he’d soon grow to like it. the feeling of your delicate, warm hands rubbing against his face was somewhat . . soothing. with a deep, heaving sigh, toji’s hooded jade eyes meet yours. he spots your pout and his shoulders lower. “alright fine, i’ll teach you one day. only if ya stop poutin'..”
with a cheeky grin, your little pout falters and you smile. “okay,” and you wait for about a good three minutes to allow the spumous cream to souse everywhere on his pores. it takes a while—and as you wait, you take a moment to stare at his features. toji was definitely easy on the eyes up close. naturally long black lashes of his flicker as he returns your loving gaze, and he avoids eye contact for a moment. perhaps you were making him a bit . . nervous. darkened eyebrows of his arch into an almost sheepish raise while he watches your adorable curious simper stretch further. “don’t be so stiff, what are you, nervous?”
“not nervous. jus’ don’t want ya to cut my face off.” he grumbles in a hoarse tone, ogling intently at you opening the bathroom cabinet for his razor. “you know what y’er doin’ right? i’d like ‘ta keep my face.”
“oh, don’t be dramatic,” and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. toji’s got a growing smirk tugging against his lips as he gawks you carefully start to shave in the exact sectors of where his facial hair resides. you did lots and lots of research—he knew this because he caught you reading various wikiHow articles on how to shave a guy’s face correctly. toji would never in a million years tell you, but he found that fact entirely adorable. you made sure you knew how to avoid burns and razor bumps. as you’re fixated on his chin, you mumble, “you’ll keep your pretty face, don’t cry.”
“aw, think ‘m pretty?” toji says, and you see the playful glint in his eyes. he’s easing up a bit, and he acknowledges that you were right. right about his stiffness, he was a bit tense. shoulders raised and all, but now—as of late, he’s starting to calm down a bit the more you talk to him. “i’d prefer the term 'handsome' but that works too, i guess.”
you deadpan, continuing your trail against his face—the razor sings out a shrieking tiiiing the more you gingerly shave with soft, gentle strokes.
it’s somewhat relaxing with the way the edges of the instrument adapts to the chiseled contours on his face. the foam starts to come off within each downward stroke and you’re very slow and precise. “okay, don’t be cocky,” you titter, and he feels his heart flutter a bit at how you’re just so dedicated. you’re so focused that your tongue briefly sticks out of your mouth, trying to make sure you do it perfectly. you tried your hardest not to cut him—you were so careful and that simple detail alone could have been enough for him to propose. “you should let me do this more. ‘s kinda fun.”
“eh. maybe,” toji shrugs, his voice coming out in a rough rasp. he doesn’t even realize it but his expressions significantly soften. he was only this way around you. to him, the thought of that was kind of scary. after you start to edge with the precision trimmer and reach underneath his nose and chin, you wrap it up. successfully discarding all of the foamy cream from his face, spotting his now clean jawline, you break away to rinse off the now grubby blades in the sink. “all done?”
“wait— don’t look yet,” you gasp, preventing him from gazing at himself in the mirror. “i still have to do the uh . . what’s it called again?”
toji snickers. “aftershave, baby.”
“aftershave,” you repeat. “right right,” and you’re so cute, kneeling down towards the wooden cabinet directly underneath the sink. you take out the mini bottle, pouring a nice goopy amount into your palm. you let toji wash his face with cold water first, patting it dry, and then you start to bedaub the facial balm in all the sensitive areas against his skin. he adores the mushy texture of your hands making contact with his face as each second passes. toji’s eyeing you, an almost grunt leaving his lips as a thumb of yours gently tickles against his infamous scar. the scar that slants itself near the right side of his lip. “thereee we go,” you give him a soft smile, the aromatic scent of tea tree oil setting against your nostrils. up close, his pores were now all so clear and you stare in awe for a bit at just how charming he was. the moisture that lays against his skin feels a lot more smooth. you grow silent for a moment before your own face softens. “okayyy, ‘m done.”
toji finally glances into the mirror, seeing his freshly new spotless face and he sees your proud toothy grin in the mirror’s reflection behind him. he cranes his neck to the side, feeling the once rough texture of his jawline now soft. he then lets off a tiny exhale. “looks good. y’er a natural,” and he turns to face you, he’s pondering on what to say. oh, your eyes sparkled with such admiration from his praise that it was just adorable. “thank you, sweetheart. for y’know . . takin’ care of me. y’er really . . sweet.”
and with that, his lips inch down to press a warm kiss against the crown of your head. your heart immediately swarms up with a frantic school of butterflies and so does his. toji prepares speak again and it’s an almost inaudible mumble. you could barely even register what he said at first because it was so hushed, but toji gruffs in a low tone. “i … love you..”
“h- huh?”
scoffing, he hides the burning embarrassed flush against his face by pulling you into his broad chest. you giggle at how he just abruptly snatches you close into his warm body before he slings a beefy arm around you. “i said, let’s uh.. do our skin care together later t’night.”
“awww i love you too toj—”
“oh my god, s-shut up..”
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uzurakis · 1 day
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hello!
Can we have JJK guys reaction to his friend/buddy being in love with his girlfriend? (can sukuna and other any other characters you like).
THEIR FRIEND ALSO . . . LIKES YOU?!
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featuring: ryomen sukuna. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. fushiguro megumi.
n. hey sweetheart, i’m not used to writing sukuna, but i tried to write him as him as much as i can! i hope it suits him. thankies for the req x—x
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GOJO SATORU. when gojo found out that his friend also liked you, his reaction was, unsurprisingly, far from what most people would expect. instead of anger or jealousy, he simply shrugged it off, his trademark smile playing on his lips.
“did you hear what i just said?” you asked, looking at him with wide eyes, he wasn’t fazed. “your friend likes me.”
gojo laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “oh, i heard you,” he replied, leaning back against the couch with an amused glint behind those glasses. “but why should i be worried? i know you’ll choose me at the end of the day.”
you blinked, taken aback by his confidence. “you’re not even a little bit concerned?”
“not at all,” gojo said, grinning. “i mean, can you blame them? you’re everything. but they don’t stand a chance against me, darling.”
“besides, it’s not like i don’t trust you. i know you love me.”
his words were playful, but because you know him well, he was serious. it was just the way he expressed it. “you’re right,” you admitted, tracing figures on his hands. “i do love you.”
“see? nothing to worry about. let him have their crush. it doesn’t change anything between us. if anything, it’s flattering. just proves i have excellent taste.”
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RYOMEN SUKUNA. being in a relationship with sukuna meant navigating his unpredictable moods and overwhelming presence, but you had never seen him this angry before. the air seemed to crackle with his frustration as he paced back and forth, his eyes blazing with a fury that sent chills down your spine.
“babe,” you began, trying to calm him down. “what’s wrong?”
he stopped pacing and looked at you, his expression dark. “fucking jerk, it’s that so-called ‘friend’ of mine,” words spat out immediately. “i found out he likes you.”
your heart skipped a beat. you had noticed the way his friend had been acting lately, but you hadn’t thought much of it. now, seeing sukuna’s reaction, you realized just how serious this was.
“ryo,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “i chose you from the start, right?”
he growled, his hands clenching into fists. “i don’t care about that. he should have known better. he should have known that you’re mine.”
sukuna lined up his hand on your chin, causing your eyes to meet. “if he comes near you, he’ll face my wrath,” he whispered, his tone still laced with menace. “no one threatens what’s mine.”
“especially my woman.”
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ITADORI YUUJI. you told him about his friend’s feelings while you both were sitting inside your cozy room. itadori’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he leaned back in his chair, processing the information.
“wow,” he said softly, scratching the back of his head, those pink locks becoming messier. “i didn’t see that coming.”
bitting your lower lip, you’re worried about how he might take the news. “you’re not mad, aren’t you?”
but your boyfriend shook his head, full of understanding. “no, i’m not mad, baby. feelings are complicated, y’know? it’s not like he can control how he feels.”
you sighed in relief, appreciating his maturity. “okay... i was just worried about how you’d react.”
“baby, i trust you, and i trust our relationship. besides, i’m kind of curious now. like, since when did he start liking you? how did i miss that?”
feeling the tension ease out of the situation, you chuckled at him. his obliviousness always gets in the way. “don’t know the exact moment, but i guess it’s been a while.”
“hmm,” the guy leaned forward, resting his chin on his free hand. “did he ever try to tell you or make a move?”
you shook your head. “no, i guess he didn’t. i think he knew about us and didn’t want to cause any trouble.” after your statement, a thoughtful expression was written on his face. “that must have been tough for him. i mean, having feelings for someone who’s already in a relationship.”
“it probably was,” you agreed. “but i’m glad you’re handling this so well.”
“hey, anyone would be lucky to have you. i just got there first.”
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. he took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. after fushiguro found out that his friend liked you, it hit him harder than he wanted to admit. the knowledge gnawed at him, and although he tried to brush it off, doubts began to creep in, making him question his own worth and your relationship. “i found out that one of my friends likes you.”
“really? who?” you blinked in surprise, not expecting that. he named the friend, and you frowned, thinking back on any interactions you might have had. “i had no idea…”
fushiguro nodded, but his eyes avoiding yours. “i didn’t either. it just… fuck, it bothers me.”
“i guess it makes me question things. like, am i good enough for you? do you have feelings for him too? those sorta things..”
your hands immediately caressed his by instinct, seeing him like this made your heart ache. “baby, you’re enough for me. i don’t have any feelings for them. i’m with you until the end.”
the man looked down for a long while, his grip on your hand tightening. “but what if i’m not enough? what if there’s something lacking in our relationship that makes you look elsewhere?”
“there’s nothing lacking, megumi. i’m happy with you. and i love you just the way you are.” you shook your head, cupping his face with your free hand.
after that he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. “i don’t want to that jealous boyfriend but i can’t help it. the thought of losing you to someone else…”
“you’re not going to lose me,” you interrupted softly. “i’m here with you, and that’s not going to change. fushiguro then opened his eyes, searching for reassurance in yours, before closing them again. a little, relieved smile tugged on the edges of his lips. “i love you. i’m sorry for doubting us.”
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@uzurakis
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4ngel-inc · 2 days
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DEMON SLAYER + S/O WITH A HIGH SEX DRIVE ಇ
tags / notes — [ 18+ ], my first demon slayer post eeeek you guys i think i'm in my demon slayer girlie phase !! :'>
word count — 300 words each. only two characters cus i'm still working on my characterization sob :')
RENGOKU wasn't experienced at all before he met you, so making love to you was like being submerged into a completely unfamiliar, ethereal world—every second of his first time with you was so beautiful, so comfortable. the first time you two made love, he cried a little afterward. he was worried you'd be turned off, but you simply cradled him in your arms and cried with him. you're the only person kyojuro has ever had sex with, and he honestly doesn't think he'll ever need anyone else if this is what it feels like to fall in love. anything you want, whenever you want it—his goal in life is to make you happy. the pleasure you give him is so fucking euphoric, kyojuro absolutely loves fucking you—sometimes, he even surprises himself with how much he wants it. he's still a little shy about coming onto you first, so he'd never say it aloud, but he suspects his own sex drive may be even higher than yours, though you're under the impression you've always wanted it more than him. every once in a while, he does get a little antsy—those are the days he makes the first move, returning home from a mission, all of his dirty fantasies about you over the past months spilling over once his eyes are on you, his cock aching the moment he pulls you in to kiss you. he wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you up to carry you to the bedroom—"it's been too long, my love. i need to fuck you now, i can't wait another moment. . . i've nearly gone crazy dreaming of your touch." overall, your high sex drive is completely matched by his—though it takes him a while to grow comfortable expressing it.
SHINAZUGAWA is no stranger to sex—he definitely enjoys it. however, it isn't until he falls in love with you that he comes to realize how intertwined emotion and pleasure actually are for him. every time you're together, he fucks you so deeply, so passionately, he thinks he might actually go insane from how good it feels, from how much of himself he's giving to you—the way you whine and beg for him every second he isn't touching you just lights his soul on fire. there's just something inside him that awakens when he's with you, as though his only purpose behind closed doors is to make you feel wanted, seen, adored."f-fuck, you want it again already, love?" he climbs back on top of you when he feels your delicate hand tugging on his shoulder, a needy little whine escaping your lips as you do. your eyes are glossy as you instinctively grind your wet pussy against his still rock-solid cock. he shudders at the sensation—"your clit isn't too sensitive for that? god, baby, i can't fuck you enough to make up for the time i was gone." he kisses you like he'll never see you again, because he doesn't know if, or rather, when, his duty to the corps will tear him away from you again—he only knows he wants to make this moment last a little longer. the little world of bliss he hides in with you is utterly perfect—he never wants to leave your side, never wants to stop touching you and satisfying your carnal desires. "gonna make you cum as many times as you want, baby—never gonna stop fucking you, not until you're satisfied, that's my job, yeah?" protecting you, loving you, and fucking you—that's all sanemi needs in this life, really.
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peachesofteal · 2 days
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Simple Math / Part Fourteen
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Discussion of child loss/miscarriage and domestic violence. Oral sex - fem receiving, face sitting, Johnny is a menace as usual, Simon talks you through it, dirty talk, brief daddy kink, pet names. Nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies, feelings of fear and anxiety, PTSD. Dialogue heavy. Bunny making progress. What's in a name?
When you were a child, you got caught in a storm.
Getting caught in a storm as an adult is a normal thing. It’s not frightening and foreign like it is when you’re young. When you’re a child, storms feel like hurricanes. They feel life altering, life ending. With no concept of larger, or smaller storms, it’s hard to understand how you’d make it through the to the other side.
You remember this one vividly. Your mother was on her way to work, her night job, and you were clicked into the backseat, barely awake, staring out the rain pelted window. The wind was so strong it shook the car, blew it all over the road, your mom’s fingers like rebar gripping the wheel. It was terrifying. It was like you’d never be safe, like the wind would pick your entire world up and send it crashing down into a farm field that stretched a million miles long.
It felt, somewhat, like this moment, and hundreds of moments before it. Small thorns in a life that no longer felt like your own. A far cry from the dreams you had when you were that little girl.
The thorns, the storms, had twisted you into this version of yourself, this stranger, and that’s how you feel as you stand in front of Simon, cold panic crackling through your bones.  
Your mouth opens and closes without sound coming out. You’re a fish out of water, lips parting just to swallow dry air, eyes wider than saucers.
Penny cries in your arms, but Simon doesn’t move. Johnny doesn’t breathe, and you stand alone in the silence, baby vomit on your clothes, trembling in fear.
They won’t understand. They’ll know you’re a liar. They won’t trust you. 
They won’t want you.  
“It’s not… I arranged it months ago.” You blurt, words strung together in a stream of consciousness. “It’s not like, you can just go out and buy a new passport. It takes a while, and connections, and lots of hoops and money and I-“ Simon holds his hand up.
A signal to stop.
“Give me the baby.” He says, stepping forward, arms out, and your hands shake as you pass her over, avoiding eye contact until he tips your chin back. “Take a deep breath, go upstairs, get cleaned up. When you come back down, we’ll talk. Okay?” He looks to Johnny, who nods, and then back to you, expectantly waiting on your answer.
“O-okay.”
Simon still has the passport.
It’s in front of his knee, on the coffee table, but within arm’s reach, close enough he could snatch it up in moment’s notice.
“Were ye goin’ to leave us?” Johnny whispers, and you shake your head.
“No, I… it takes a while. I arranged it months and months ago, before I even met you.” Simon frowns.
“This is not a fake, it’s a real passport. How did you get it?” Oh, fuck. Your throat is as dry as paper, scratchy and stiff, and you force yourself to spit out a coherent sentence.
“I bought it… from a guy.” Brilliant. You sneak a glance at Johnny, who’s watching with a pink sheen on his cheeks, knuckles white against the arm of the couch. He looks upset, and guilt swamps you, worry over making him feel worse in his state eating away inside your heart.
“You know a guy who can get his hands on government issued documents?” Simon holds himself very still. Nearly a statue, his eyes never leave your face, and you move your hands under your thighs to try to stop their trembling.
There’s a familiar feeling building in your chest. A twisted, gnarled root of fear, growing deep. “I… it’s… no, he’s… I was referred to him, by someone else. He doesn’t even know my real name, I’m careful, I’ve-“
“Done this before.” Simon finishes, and your heart stops in your chest.
“Yes.” You whisper. How are they going to feel when they realize you’ve been lying to them about your name? You spiral, imagining the hurt flashing across their faces, the disappointment from Simon, the sadness from Johnny. “I use a new identity, when I move around.”
“Your name…”
“Isn’t my real one.” The admission stings, but that person doesn’t exist anymore. You haven’t been that happy, fulfilled, carefree girl in too long. You don’t know her. You don’t remember her.
She’s dead.
She’s a ghost.
“Will ye tell us? Yer real name?” Simon is thoughtful from where he sits on the chair, focused, as Johnny looks hopeful. They’re both looking at you with trust heavy in their eyes, and it gnaws, burns in your bones all the way through until your real name is slipping free with a whisper.
“That’s beautiful, bun.” Johnny murmurs sweetly, and they exchange a look, something stern etching across Simon’s brow before it drifts away.
“Do you want us to use it?” You shake your head.
“N-no, I… I’m not that girl… anymore. She’s long gone.” The room is silent, and you mull it over, toss it back and forth in your mind. You’re so disconnected from the person you were when you last felt whole, when you last felt real. How will you ever feel that way again?
Something flickers in Simon’s gaze. Something severe and almost sad, a storm in the middle of a sea, a little boat with nowhere to hide, and you get lost in it, lost in him, a million lives and a million emotions clouding the space between your bodies.
He swallows, and it’s gone.
“How does that work with your nursing license?” You blink, but you’re not surprised he knows to ask the one question that will undoubtedly unravel the rest of the threads. The biggest piece of the puzzle.
“I…” Fuck. Are you really going to do this? Are you doing this? 
Do you trust them? 
It’s not a question now, you know the answer. Know why it is you’ve been sleeping in their bed, helping with their baby, living in their house.
It’s more than trust.
“I had a friend in college. Dean.” You’re really doing this. “He was really smart, and really kind, and going places. We were on different paths, but we stayed in touch. As best we could… my ex didn’t really like me talking to… anyone.” Johnny’s fingers slide across the couch, hesitantly brushing your thigh, and it grounds you, calms you. “He became a fancy, big time lawyer. Like, really big time. One of the best in Texas,” Simon’s eyes narrow, head tilted as he stares at you, before it all flits away, and he returns to stasis, “possibly the country. He… he helped me.” You pause, unsure, and Johnny nods encouragingly.
“Helped ye how?”
“I’ve been running, had been running, for a while. Years. At one point, Dean got a judge in a different state to agree to change my name, my identity, everything, and then seal the record. It gave me a chance to disappear, a fresh start to build from. Or, I thought it did, anyway. My ex is… very determined, it didn’t take long for him to catch up.”
“So, your license…”
“Whenever I get a new job, I refer the HR department to my big fancy lawyer in Texas, and he makes sure my license is accepted and they understand the circumstances. I manage the rest… on my own. The turning over of a new identity- identification documents, passports, housing, everything.”
“Do they know anything about this?”
“No. I think they probably think I’m in witness protection or something, and per the court order, they can’t discuss the discrepancy with the name on the license to anyone in the hospital. Dean makes sure of that.” You laugh weakly, but Simon doesn’t, he only studies you, laser focused. “I can’t really have contact with him anymore, because it leaves too much… out in the open, but he’s a really good friend. The best.” Tears blur your vision as you think about Dean, remembering the way he stared at you the night you turned up on his doorstep.
You were so young then. So stupid. But he gave you best chance he could, and you’d always be grateful.
Johnny reaches for where your hand is shoved beneath your thigh, and lightly tugs until it’s in his grasp, warm and safe.
“An’ ye change yer identity every time?” You nod, lips tucking in over your teeth.
“That’s what the passport is for. In most places, a passport counts for both a birth certificate and identification card, so they don’t ask for a secondary. It’s the easiest to use.”
“You were preparing to run.” Simon murmurs.
“Before Johnny became my patient, I was getting ready to, yeah.”
“Why?” You take a deep breath, but your chest feels too tight. Fear is still dripping down the back of your throat, making your stomach sick, your hands tremble.
“I knew he was here.” The words break apart into a sob, and your eyes slam shut.
The next thing you know, you’re breathing into Johnny’s warm chest, a hand running up and down your back slowly.
“I don’t want to be scared anymore.” You cry, gasping. “I.. I’m scared all the time. I run all the time. I d-don’t even know who I am, without it. I don’t know how to be here, or be a normal person, or have a normal conversation.”
“Shhh, yer alright, pretty girl. It’s okay.” Johnny hums, and you feel his diaphragm vibrate as he soothes you.
“I want to be with you… but I don’t know how. I’m terrified he’ll come here and- and hurt you, or Penny. That it will be my fault, like everything else has.” You cry harder, chest aching, Simon’s hands closing around your shoulders and pulling you back to tilt your face up to the two of them.
“It’s not your fault, bunny. None of it, ever, has been your fault. Do you understand?” You shake your head no, because you don’t. You’re good at running, at hiding. You’ve made a new life over and over again by doing it, and getting caught is your fault, no matter what they say.
You slipped up. It could happen again. 
“You don’t understand. I… I should have left, after he found me in my apartment. I should have left.” It sticks in your mind, playing over and over again. “I sh-should have left, I shouldn’t be here, I-“ your vision tunnels.
“Okay, okay. Easy, sweetheart.” Simon tries to settle you, but everything is bubbling up and you feel like you’re going to explode, like your skin is too tight, like you’re falling apart, all at once.
There’s nothing left inside of you, nothing left to do.
You break.
Millions of miles of denial and fear and agony splinter, shattering into shards that destroy you from the inside out.
“He’s going to kill me.” Johnny curses something thick as you sob, palm flat over your racing heart. “He t-took everything. He made me into… into this, and it’s only a matter of time. He’s going to find me again, and he… he’s-“ He cups your cheek.
“Shhh, bunny. We’re here, we’re right here.”
“No, he’s not. Listen-“ you try to pull away but Johnny stops you, holding you firm as Simon ducks into your line of sight. “Listen to me. He’s never going to touch you again, do you understand? We will never let him near you, ever again. We promise.”
“You can’t pr-promise that.”  
“We can,” Simon vows, “but… we need to know everything. What we’re looking for, who he is.”
No. You don’t know why, but there’s a barrier around Phillip’s name. Like you can’t force your tongue to make the sound, and you can’t tell them.
If they know, they’ll look for him. They’ll try to find him; you can already tell.
They’ll get hurt, or worse.
You can’t let that happen.
“I can’t.” You whisper. “I can’t.” Johnny pulls you back into his arms, and you curl up against him, his chin on top of your head. They look at one another, long glances you can’t interpret, before Simon takes a deep breath, his hand gentle on your knee.
“Bunny… do you have a child? Someone you’re trying to protect?” Your eyes slip shut, and despair grips your throat like a vice.
“No.” You croak. “No, there would have been one but…” you drag the truth into the light. “I lost it. He didn’t want it so… he got rid of it.” They both freeze.
“Sweetheart.” Simon whispers, Johnny’s arms going rigid, and you shrug, slipping away from this moment, from them.
“It was a long time ago.” You pause, keeping your eyes closed. “I’m fine.” Johnny scoffs.
“The hell ye are. And ye shouldnae be.” You shake between them, exhaustion settling into your bones like it belongs there, and they linger in silence with you, in the moment, letting it stretch long before Simon murmurs something and brushes his fingertips against your cheek.
“We’ll wait, until you’re ready.” You relax with a small sigh. “But if we don’t know who we’re dealing with, that means no more coming and going. I don’t want you outside this house without me, do you understand?”
“I’m going back to work.” You refute immediately.
“When you’re ready to go back, we’ll come up with a plan to keep you safe.” He says sternly, and you swallow, eyes wide.
“We jus’ want to keep ye safe, pretty girl.” Simon tugs your hand into his, and murmurs lowly.
“I know you’re independent, and you’re used to being on your own, but we’re here now. You don’t have to do this alone. We’ve got you.” Tears burn at the corner of your eyes.
You should tell them no, but you can’t.
You should be angry, or nervous, or even scared, but all you can feel is relief.
You don’t have to do this alone.
The house is quiet when you wake up the next morning.
It’s odd now, opening your eyes to an empty bed. All you’ve known for years, is being alone. All you’ve relied on for so long, was yourself.
But now, when your arms and legs spread wide between the sheets and you come up empty, panic flutters in your heart. “Johnny? Simon?” When there’s no answer, you stumble over the side, loping steps hauling you down the stairs and into the living room.
Johnny’s half-awake on the couch in his boxers, flipping idly through television programs. You breathe a little bit easier, and he cracks a smile. “Morning, pretty.”
“Morning.” You bend in front of him, swooping down to press your lips to his. “Where’s…”
“He took Pen to swim. She’s in classes and then has a playdate at a friend’s house after. Busy wee one, our Penny.” Fingers idly rub against the skin beneath his ear, tracing down to his collarbone.
“You eat breakfast?”
“Was waitin’ for ye.” Something dark and hungry glints in his eyes, and your knees go weak.
“Oh, w-well I can make you someth-“
“No.” He traces down the inside of your thigh, where he’s eye level, and then up, backs of his fingers stroking over the front of your panties, thumb skirting along the seam between your legs. “Not hungry for food, bun. Just for ye.”
“O-oh.” His thumb presses, just enough pressure brushing against your clit, and you gasp, hand shooting out to steady yourself on the arm of the sofa, where his head is.
His lips touch to the inside of your wrist, and he grins. “C’mere Bunny.”
“You’re still recovering.” Your fingers twist in the hem of the t shirt you grabbed off the floor, one of theirs.
“My face isn’t.” His hands wrap around the backs of your thighs, tugging you closer. “My face is the perfect seat for ye, pretty girl. Let me make ye feel good.” Everything tightens, your chest, your heart, each blood vessel stitched throughout your body. Your clit pulses, knot in your stomach tying so tight it makes you lightheaded, agony and arousal singing together in perfect harmony. It’s a song with perfect pitch, swirling around the two of you in euphoric polyphony.
You want this. Want him. Want to let it all go. 
“Johnny.”
“Got a seat for ye,” his fingers trace over his lip and down his neck, where his throat bobs with a swallow. You can’t pull your eyes away. “Right ‘ere.”
It doesn’t take more coaxing after he tucks his fingers into your underwear and rolls them down your thighs, giving you a light pat just under your ass, shifting and arranging until you’re perched across his shoulders.
“What if you can’t breathe?” Your voice hitches on a panicked note, and he rubs your legs soothingly.
“Then I’ll die a happy man.” You choke. “Just kiddin’ bunny. Ye cannae hurt me, I can breathe just fine.” His eyebrows crinkle and crease, soft expression puckering down to where his lips part.
Let go. You can do it. You want this. Just let go. 
“I- I’m not very good with…” You gulp, chest heaving. “With sex, I uh. I don’t have good memories of it, and I’ve never… I’ve never done this.” It’s the best you can explain, in this moment, and you pray it’s enough, that he’ll understand.
“We’ll go slow.” He promises, still rubbing circles into the backs of your legs, grabbing fistfuls of your ass and thighs, pressing long kisses into your skin. “Ye tell me to stop, if ye dinnae like it or ye want to stop, promise?” You nod. “Say it, pretty girl.”
“I’ll tell you… to stop.” He smiles, and urges you forward, palms still curved around your cheeks.
“Cannae wait to taste ye,” you move slowly, hesitantly, and he encourages gently, patting and rubbing patiently, eyes locked your face the entire time, “have been dreamin’ about it, since that day ye didnae wear any panties to work.”
“Johnny!” you hiss, playfully scandalized, heart trilling. He’s turned a miserable memory, a scary memory, into something not so bad, so easily. It means a lot, means more than you think he knows, and you’re just about to tell him when you feel heat slip across your skin, thumbs stroking down the seam of your cunt. He jerks you forward completely, until the bottom half of his face is missing, and all you can see beneath your legs is a crop of mohawk.
The first touch is heaven. He’s warm, and safe, and you melt onto him, indulging in the feeling of it all. His arms wrap around your hips, anchoring you in place, mouth sloppy against your pussy like he’s trying to devour you whole. You jerk, falling forward at the waist, one hand against the couch, the other fisted in his hair, trying to create space for him to breathe.
“No.” He growls, slamming you back down, nose bumping against your clit over and over as his tongue dives into you, curling up into your body.
You close your eyes. You need more friction, but you don’t know what to do, don’t know how to get it, and the longer you try to figure it out, the more you’re slipping away, kicking and fighting in darker waters.
Stay present. Stay here. With him. You’re safe. Let go. 
Your breath stutters in your chest. Two factions fight one another, one trying to catapult you towards an orgasm faster than you’ve ever gotten there in your life, and the other, trying and failing to stem the memories and anxiety that bleed freely from your brain. The pleasure is mixed with pain, with nightmares, and your muscles turn to rock, eyes slamming shut.
A big, warm hand settles between your shoulder blades.
You jolt away from it, but when your eyes snap open-
You see Simon.
He’s on his knees at your side, part of your thigh now pressed against his chest. He watches you intently, sweeping over your features and down to where you’re sitting on Johnny’s face, half relaxed, half coiled tense.
“You’re in control, sweetheart.” Even kneeling, he’s tall enough that he’s nearly eye level with you, and Johnny’s free hand searches for him when he hears his voice. Simon gives him a squeeze, and then lovingly strokes some of his hair from his forehead. “Our sweet boy just wants to make you feel good. Do you want that?”
“Y-yeah.. but I don’t… I don’t know how.” You squeak, burning with embarrassment, still clutching the couch. He pulls that hand free, into his, and rubs a thumb over the back of your knuckles, before placing it back against the armrest. It’s comforting, and reassuring, and he keeps the other one anchored at your back.
“Just relax.” He murmurs above your ear, now cradling your hips. “Hold onto the couch with both hands, like that- good girl.” His grip tightens, and then slowly, he starts to move you. “Find what feels good, take your time.” You roll your hips slowly, looking for the right amount of pressure, the friction you’re desperate for, and Johnny moans beneath you, his own hips flexing. “There you go, does that feel good?” Simon’s eyes are nearly black, and you nod hungrily. “Ride him just like that, don’t stop.”
“Oh my god.” You moan, tilting back. Each time Johnny’s nose or tongue rubs against your clit it’s like lightning striking in your blood, and warmth crackles around you like a blanket.
“Fuck,” Simon growls, palm pressing against your lower belly. “Look a’ the two of you, all mine.” The possession shivers across your skin and you moan, head heavy. Johnny’s tongue finds your rhythm, and then he’s flicking across your clit like he’s plucking a string, a perfect note.
“Johnny, ah…” He groans something in response, the vibration shooting straight to your brain. You tip to the side, face pressing into Simon’s neck, and he supports your weight, keeping a hand on your hip, now spread over where Johnny holds you. You're in a frenzy now, panting, chasing, rough pace only increasing with desperation.
“Good girl, rubbing your little pussy all over our sweet boy’s face. Is he going to make you cum? Can you show daddy how pretty you are when you cum?” Daddy. The word makes you dizzy, strikes you dumb. Simon’s lips press to the crown of your head, and all you can do is gasp and whine, hips jerking across Johnny’s nose and mouth, slick, lewd noises coming from between your legs.
“Oh, oh- fuck,” you gasp, fingers now tightening in Johnny’s hair, electricity sparking through your muscles like fireworks, “I’m gonna- I’m-“ You drag yourself across him, chasing the edge of oblivion, white light crackling behind your eyes as you clench them shut with a near shout. Your orgasm shoots through you, exploding every cell in your body into star light, everything heating together as your eyes roll backwards and your hips shake. Johnny grunts, still anchoring you down onto him, aftershocks rattling through your bones to your teeth. Simon pries him lose, keeping a hand on you, and him, as he pulls you back to reveal Johnny’s face.
He's soaked. Neck, chin, cheeks, stubble all coated in you, and your eyes goes wide, wicked pleasure at the sight curling in the pit of your stomach.
You did that. Your boy.
Simon chuckles like he’s reading your mind, tucking you into his chest before pulling you free and placing you in the space next to Johnny on the couch, laying down. He kisses him slowly, softly, running his tongue over his cheeks before returning to dip back into his mouth and pulling away. “Stay, ‘m gonna go get a towel to clean you both up.” He says quietly, kissing your nose before rising and slipping off into the kitchen. Johnny tries to tug you closer.
“How was that?” You can hear the smug smile and his face as he breaks the silence, and your cheeks burn.
“Really good.”
“Hmph, I was shooting for amazing, so I guess we’ll just have to try again.”
“That’s not… it was!” He laughs, and then gives you a half hug with his good arm.
“Ye were perfect, bunny. We’re so lucky to have ye.” Tears burn and threaten to spill.
“I’m the lucky one.” You whisper, and you don’t know if anything could be truer. It’s more than luck now, more than a chance meeting, a chance occurrence. It’s something bigger, something all consuming, something stronger than anything you’ve ever known.
Something bright, like the sun.
Something like… love. 
914 notes · View notes
januaryembrs · 2 days
Note
Hi! May I have a hot chocolate with Aaron Hotchner and a splash of angst please?
OVERPROTECTIVE | Aaron Hotchner x Reader
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length: 2.5k (Em doesn't know how to go small on things)
warnings: mention of a knife? mention of feeling sick? mention of a wound?
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“Sit down, Agent,” His voice was a growl that made you stop loading up your gun, Emily and Derek freezing in their seats to witness the catfight when they caught the heated glare exchanged between the two of you. Your fingers paused on the cartridge, clicking it into the ammunition vault before switching your glock onto the safety, turning to face your boyfriend with a sneer on your face. 
“Agent?” You tested the water with a raised brow, seeing if he would double down with his attitude once he seemed to have realised he had crossed some sort of line with his words. 
“Prentiss and Morgan are going after the suspect, I want you here with Reid mapping out the geographical profile,” He ordered his teams, though you were quick to catch how he couldn’t meet your eyes as he turned to Dave, his fingers fixing his cuffs the way he did when he was thinking about something, “Dave, I want you with JJ at hostage negotiation, he still has the girls and might not be willing to give them up so easily-”
“Surely we’d be more use in the field, I mean, we’ve gotten pretty much everything out of the profile that we can.” Reid tried to point out, only for Hotch to turn to him with a scathing frown. 
“Is there something wrong with the orders I’ve given, Reid?” Aaron asked, his tone particularly cold, and Spencer was quick to look flustered, ever the teachers pet who loathed being told off. 
“N-no I just thought,” He spluttered, quickly packing up his files as Hotch gave him a sharp look, “We’ll stay here, it’s fine,” 
Your Unit Chief barely acknowledged him as he huffed, turning and heading for his office, “Wheels up in ten,” 
But you weren’t going to let him slip away that easily, especially not with an attitude like that. 
“Baby girl, think about what you’re doing here,” Morgan tried to call as you paced after him, your expression ruthless as you stalked behind the man, “Starting a fight with the boss is not going to win you any favours, sweetheart,” 
Except he wasn’t just your boss, only they didn’t know that. 
Aaron could tell you were hot on his heels even without hearing Morgan’s desperate attempt to help. To them, it must look like one of their colleagues was about to make a huge misjudgement on just how harsh their boss could be when he wanted to. Every single one of the BAU had gone head to head with Aaron at some point, it was only natural for eight people who spent day in, day out with one another, but not one of them had left the interaction feeling good about themselves. 
As a boyfriend, Aaron was almost a complete antithesis of who he was at work. His words were butter smooth, his touch gentle as lace, his heart surprisingly tender for a man who had seen the worst humanity had to offer. And he respected you, he was kind, he was soft and mallowed out, and it had started bleeding into his demeanour at work in the five months you’d been dating. He’d come to work with a skip in his step, you showing up around five minutes later now you guys had coordinated sitting in his car for a little longer to avoid suspicion. Aaron seemed to find your eyes in moments of worry, and it usually only took a small smile or a passing touch of your hands that could easily be explained as an accident to calm him down. 
But he had changed last week, when an UnSub had managed to catch your shoulder with a knife.
It was a surface scratch, nothing a few stitches and a dose of painkillers hadn’t cleared up, and you could already feel the scab peeling off, but since then Aaron had been stiflingly overbearing at work. 
You shut the door behind you, already seeing the way he rubbed at his temple with calloused hands, and you knew the sigh was coming even before you heard it, low and tired, like he didn’t want this argument here. 
“What the hell was that?” You said, your tone clipped as you stared furiously at his broad shoulder blades where he still had his back to you, “Spencer did nothing wrong, he was just trying to help, and he’s totally right, we’d be so much more use with Morgan and Prentiss-”
“If you have an issue with how I run my unit, you can take it up with Strauss,” Aaron snapped, barely looking over his shoulder, “Until then, I expect my orders to be followed, agent,”  
You crossed your arms over your chest, and he knew by the way you’d gone quiet you were staring daggers at him. Taking a shaking breath, he looked at you finally, and felt his resolve crumble almost immediately when he saw how truly seething you were. So much so he didn’t even catch the hurt in your expression until you began speaking. 
“Is it just ‘agent’, now?” You asked, your voice cracking as you swallowed quickly, “It’s not honey, or love, or sweetheart? Or is that only when you want the girlfriend version of me.”
Aaron stopped, whatever witted and crass remark that had about to fly out of his mouth vanishing, and he wished the rest of the team would just clear out of the floor, because he wanted nothing more than to pull you in for a tight hug and tell you in every way he thought possible that he was sorry he was being so cruel. 
But he couldn’t. Because he could feel their eyes on the two of you from here. Here he had to be SSA Aaron Hotchner. Here he couldn’t protect you when creeps were coming at you with knives or stalking women who could easily be your twin. Here he had to stop himself from being so pliant under your touch. 
“You know why I can’t,” He said coldly, his eyes begging and weak, yet they were the only thing that gave him away. His jaw was tense and his brows furrowed, and to anyone else on the floor it looked like he was giving you a stern talking to. 
Except you just scowled, “Can’t be my boyfriend or can’t stop worrying that something is going to happen to me in the field?” You said, and his lips pressed together tightly, because sometimes he hated not being the only one in the relationship that was a profiler. Of course you knew what it was about, you’d seen it in his face when the two of you were being intimate and he caught sight of the bandage, how he’d been completely distracted and tense for the rest of the evening, “That’s what this is about, right? All of this for a tiny cut on my shoulder that’s going to be gone within a week?” 
“Two inches to the right and that guy could slashed your throat,” He snapped, the truth a sore spot for him, and you shook your head, throwing your hands up in despair. 
“How many hits have you taken, Aaron, huh?” You bit back, and he ground his teeth for lack of response, “It’s an occupational hazard, it’s not a big deal, I mean Reid and Penelope have taken bullets for us, I just think you’re being a little overprotective here,”
“I can’t lose you, can you not see that?” He snarled back, his voice rising so high with his frustration he felt his cheeks warm, and in a split second he looked like a wounded animal stuck in a bear trap, cornered and scared and waiting on the inevitable. 
Your mouth dropped in guilt, the fight dying out of your chest because you got it then, you got it why he was being so defensive. He was too slow to stop something from happening to Hayley, and here, right in front of him, was his sparkly new girlfriend risking her life like that wouldn’t be anyone’s worst nightmare. 
You felt terrible, and judging by the way he seemed to bite the inside of his cheek, he did too. Perhaps for shouting at you, perhaps just for being too intense for a relatively new relationship, but before you could attempt to come to an understanding, Spencer opened the door, his eyes shooting between the two of you as the silence became a medium for your tension.
“Rossi wants to know if you guys are ready to head out?” He asked sheepishly, waiting for another snarl of anger from his boss, only to see Hotch looking more like he had a sour gummy shoved in his mouth as he avoided all eye contact. 
“We’re staying to do the profile, Spence,” You said solemnly, and he seemed to not want to poke at a sleeping bear, nodding and leading the two of you out to the drawing board, flicking one last look at Aaron where he was sorting some files around his desk, most likely looking for something to keep his shaking hands busy. 
Sighing, you closed the door behind you and tried to ignore the pain in your shoulder. 
He thinks you’ve probably caught the subway home with Spencer by the time they get back. The sixth floor is quiet, his bag heavy with the reports he could easily leave for Monday morning, except he wants to take his mind off the fight the two of you had. He cuts through the middle of the desks, Emily’s coffee cold and stale, Spencer’s cardigan stranded on his chair. He thinks about how he could show the youngest agent he’s sorry, because he shouldn’t have snapped like that, shouldn’t have made him feel small just because you were so totally in the right to be looking at him like that. 
He was immediately confronted with your coat and bag when he opened the door to his office, the two of them leaning against his filing cabinet like they were waiting for him, and he thought it was strange until he saw the culprit, or more so saw your shoes placed neatly under the sofa, your socked feet peeking over the end of the cushions. 
His gaze trailed to your face, calm and smoothed out, like he hadn’t seen the way a frown marred your face that moment he’d left the office as you’d been consulting the giant map he’d pinned up in the round table room. You were fast asleep, one hand tucked beneath your head as a pillow, your knees squishing out to accommodate your body on the two-seater.
Aaron drew a deep breath, gently sliding his bag off his shoulder and letting it sit on the floor beside your shoes, his hand immediately reaching for your calf with a gossamer soft embrace, his fingers squeezing you lightly and dancing up the length of your leg up to your hip. His other hand found home on your head, caressing the roots of your hair as he murmured your name. 
He said it again, a little louder, when you didn’t stir, and it was only then that your eyes fluttered behind your lids. Blinking slowly in the low light of his office, his desk lamp the only source of beige glow, you smiled on instinct when you saw his brown, puppy-dog stare, kicked and hurt as he looked down at you. 
Which was when it came back to you in a shooting pain, the last time you’d spoken, the tone and formality, as if he didn’t know you at all outside of these four walls. 
“You waiting for me?” He asked, his hand continuing its rhythm over your crown, and you nodded under his attentive gaze. 
“I didn’t want to go home alone, I wanted to make sure we were okay, and I knew you’d come here,” You said, and he smiled with an exhausted expression like he had the weight of the world bearing down on his back.
“Of course we’re okay, honey,” He replied, his hand migrating from your waist to grab your knuckles, bringing them to his dry lips to kiss softly. He sighed softly, looking down to where your fingers meshed together, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Or Reid. But especially not you,”
You let go of his rough fingers to bring a hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently so he would look at you with those mournful noir hues. 
“Aaron, I’m gonna get bruised sometimes. This probably won’t be the last time, and it probably won’t be the worst one either,” He grit his teeth like the thought of it being even deeper, in an even more lethal spot, made him physically ill, “But I need you to trust in me, trust that I’m going to do everything to come home to you at the end of the day, the same way you do everything to come back to me. Alright?” 
Aaron sighed, leaning in to press his forehead to yours as you nudged your nose against his. 
“You make it so difficult for me to think straight when I’m meant to be your boss, you know that?” He murmured, and there was something boyishly teasing in his tone as he did so, so much so you smiled with him. Leaning in, you kissed him softly on the mouth, your hand moving to the back of his head to pull him closer 
“You will apologise, won’t you? For hurting Spencer’s feelings,” You implored, breaking away from the embrace for a moment, until Aaron tried to dodge your question by kissing over your jaw. But you stood your ground, despite the fact you felt your eyes fluttering in pleasure, “Aaron, he’s sensitive,” 
“First thing Monday morning, I promise,” He said, though you half guessed it was just to please you, since he was already aiming for your neck, his hand grazing the hem of your shirt. 
“So, I know we’re in work, but I take it this is boyfriend Aaron I have now,” He hummed in confirmation, your skin pliant and warm under his lips, and he caught the splutter in your breath when he kissed your jugular the way you liked, “Okay well seeing as you’re boyfriend Aaron, I got to tell you, honey, my boss was being a total worms-for-brains today,” 
Aaron stopped, drawing away to look you in the face where you his a snicker, and he quickly found the humour in it too as his fingers gripped around your stomach, “Oh, so it’s like that is it?”
You went to say something in rebuttal, only to feel his hands quickly start tickling your stomach, and you squealed in protest, grabbing at his wrists in an attempt to stop him. But it was no use. Aaron’s laughs, tired and groaning as they were, filled his office, and yours quickly symphonied them.
You didn’t even get a chance to tell him that Spencer definitely, definitely knew you two were dating.  
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spencerreidenjoyer · 3 days
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love bites | spencer reid x reader
word count: 2k, rating: 18+/explicit
tags: established relationship, hickeys, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, overstimulation
a/n: hello again... i'm back with another pwp fic... idk where this came from ngl, but i sort of ran away with this idea of spencer leaving hickeys and this happened lol. also i've been having chip taylor (mgg's character in 68 kill, a guy who has the biggest, wettest eyes and fucks like a madman) on the brain lately so this is definitely inspired by him too ❤️
(p.s: you can also find this fic on ao3!)
Spencer always wants to give you everything you want. He’s eager to please, with those wide puppy-dog eyes that stare up at you, that gaze that makes your insides warm, the tension between you two that makes you want to spread your legs. Not like you would put up a fight anyway.
He was already such a sweetheart on the date you just came home from, a nice dinner at a nice restaurant. Spencer was a proper gentleman, who was playing footsie with you under the table. You’d wanted to jump his bones the moment you’d left the restaurant. You hoped Spencer would get the hint, from the way you were tracing circles with your fingers onto his thighs on the drive back to his place.
“Baby,” you hum, while Spencer kisses down your neck. He always treats you like a princess, makes you feel so revered.
Sometimes, he loses himself in making you feel good. You have to call his name again – “Spencer–!” you say, in a whimper, before he responds.
“Hmm?”
“Are you leaving marks?” You ask. You feel a little conscious about it, because having to wear a turtleneck to work in the summer heat is definitely funny, but kind of embarrassing.
Spencer’s lips pause against your neck. He murmurs, “Do you want me to?” and you feel his warm breath on your skin as he says it. Your hair stands on end, your body reacting to how close Spencer is to you.
Spencer pulls away, and you mourn the loss of his warmth for a moment. He looks at you, the hazel of his eyes so deep and sweet that you feel like you could lose yourself in them. “Then I can leave them in places that you don’t have to worry about.”
“What? Where?” You ask, but your mind starts running already. His lips on your body. His gaze, scorching as he stares up at you.
He doesn’t give a verbal response, rather lets his hands fall to your waist and slips his thumbs under the waist-cutouts of your dress. Where the tips of his fingers touch your skin, you feel like you’re burning with desire already. Spencer asks, “Can I?”
“Please.” Your voice comes out breathier than you’d like.
Spencer pushes your dress up, revealing your thighs, your stomach. His fingers skirt over your skin softly, the touch almost ticklish. The dress goes up, up, up, until Spencer helps you tug it over your head. Even with the sweet gesture, him getting you undressed is making you flush, the attention he gives you and the lust in his gaze making your stomach flip.
Spencer’s lips find their way back to your neck. You hold your breath as he kisses his way down the column of your neck, taking his time. He kisses your collarbone, then the top of your breast. He nips the skin between his teeth.
“Someone’s bitey,” you gasp, trying to joke.
“Did you know that while the Brits call hickeys ‘love bites’ , you don’t actually need to bite to break the superficial blood vessels under the skin’s surface? Suction is often sufficient to cause bruising.” Spencer murmurs, as if the fun fact is absolutely necessary to him giving you a hickey on your breast. It’s cute to you, though. It kind of turns you on.
“‘Love bites’ are a cute name for hickeys, though.” You laugh. “And sucking… Isn’t that kind of gross?”
Spencer’s eyes flit up to meet yours. “I think it’s hot… I mean, being so desperate to mark you up, that I can’t control myself. Being willing to do anything to make it known that you’re mine.”
Arousal washes over you. “Jesus Christ, Spencer.”
He surges forward to kiss you, slow and languid and kind of sloppy. Still, you can feel the desperation behind his movements, his eagerness as he basically eats your face off. Spencer pulls back panting, eyes studying your face, your shirtless figure, your breasts in your bra. He stares greedily. You’re wet between your legs already.
Spencer dips his head down to press his lips to where your breast spills out of the cup of your bra, flicking his tongue over a spot he’s chosen. His front teeth graze over your skin gently. Spencer nips the skin between his teeth, sucking softly. It makes your hair stand on end – the wet sounds coming from his mouth, the heat of his breath on your skin, the slow but pleasurable twinge of pain that sinks in when he sucks a mark into your breast.
It’s erotic, the way your hand is tangled in Spencer’s hair, holding him close to you as he continues to mark up your chest with his mouth. Spencer’s hair is so soft between your fingers, slightly messy and curling at the ends. He’d moved on to mark up your other breast, his large hand cupping you perfectly, like you were made for him.
Spencer litters hickeys all over you, on your tits, your stomach, and he kisses along the waistband of your panties when he gets to them. You only have to whimper to get him to slide them off as well. He kisses your hip bone, while his hand on your other side feels you up. You feel Spencer slide his hand from the swell of your ass, to feeling the meat of your thigh, before his hand comes around and pushes your leg out to spread your legs.
“Babe,” you moan, as Spencer bites down gently on your plushy inner thigh. His tongue laps over where he had bitten, acting to soothe you from any pain, and he sucks a mark into your thigh. You see the marks of his teeth and the redness of the spot, the beginnings of a bruise. He moves over to your other thigh to give you another mark, then his lips trace their way closer to the heat between your legs, giving you more marks on the way up.
You gasp when he presses a kiss to your clit, your wetness extremely obvious to you now as he blows cool air to tease you. You shiver. Spencer laughs, “Needy. You’re so wet.”
“Because of you, baby,” you sigh, running your hand through his hair to push it back, letting you admire his gorgeous bone structure and those wide eyes of his. “Need you.”
Spencer hums, smiling to himself, as he settles himself between your spread legs. His hand comes up to your heat, two fingers spreading your lips before he leans in, licking a fat stripe up across your hole, to your clit. You moan shakily as he flicks at your clit, playing with you, the tip of his sharp tongue making pleasure jolt through your body.
You let out a sigh when he presses his face deeper because you didn’t think he could get any closer, and you feel his mouth on your cunt– slurping, licking, breathing heavily as he eats you out fervently. He gives you head like he was born to do it. The way he pleasures you makes your head spin, amidst all the slick, wet noises, and Spencer’s own eagerness to make you feel good.
You lock eyes with Spencer, his piercing gaze meeting yours from between your tits. It’s almost funny, but you’re too turned on to even joke about it. You tighten your grasp in his hair. He whimpers, a sound you never get tired of hearing, and the vibrations to your cunt make you shiver.
You want him in you, now. You tell him that. Spencer pulls away, his wide eyes seeming dark and serious.
He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, shiny with your slick and fluids. You watch the pink of his tongue dart out as he licks his lips. You whimper a little as he gets onto his knees between your spread legs, his nice button-up, slacks and boxers off and on the floor. You admire the smooth lines of his body, the softness of his stomach, his happy trail leading down to where he’s hard and leaking into his hand.
There are no words exchanged, just a knowing glance that tells Spencer to hurry and do it. Spencer’s always been good at following instructions, and he knows you and your likes like the back of his hand. You know he always wants to please.
One hand on your hip, Spencer’s other hand guides his cock to your hole. He teases the head of his cock over your clit, circling over your entrance. You can only imagine how wet and sticky you are down there, with Spencer’s cock making you even more of a mess.
He puts the head in, watches intently as he slides in, and you look up at Spencer, breathing hard. He stops for a moment and begins to pull out, only the tip inside of you. He’s such an ass. You glare at him. Spencer grins cheekily.
“Spencer–” His name leaves your lips brokenly as he suddenly presses himself deeper, in, in, in, until his cock is bottoming out and you feel so incredibly full. “Fuck me.”
Spencer grunts, eyebrows furrowed as he starts fucking into you. He goes hard and fast, knowing that’s how you like it: his skin slapping against yours, the slick sounds of his cock pounding into your hole downright obscene. Even while you shake from the force he’s putting into fucking you, Spencer’s face reads like he’s trying hard to keep it together, trying to concentrate on making you feel as good as he feels.
His mouth falls open as he grips the headboard, fucking you relentlessly. You hold onto his biceps for dear life, close to screaming as he rails you. Spencer moans, as your fingernails dig into his arms in your desperate need, “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight, angel. All wet for me.”
“Spencer, fuck, oh my God–!” You cry out, helpless, horny, feeling like you’re in heaven as Spencer fucks you just how you want, just how you need. His cock hits all the right places, deep inside of you, fucking you open like you’re made for him.
And then, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body jolting with the pleasure that overtakes you. It’s so good, Spencer ramming into you till the overstimulation starts to sting, pleasure tinged with pain around the edges, and your clenching and writhing has Spencer pushed over the edge as well, his head dropping between his shoulders as he comes with a groan, loud and whiny, his load spilling inside of you.
You’re both breathing hard, but your eyes meet his, and you share a small smile. Spencer has paused, cock softening inside of you, and he kisses you softly. You taste yourself on his lips. You don’t care, and kiss him back. Both of you giggle when you pull away.
One of Spencer’s hands falls from the headboard to your body, his fingers gentle as they skirt over your curves, a sharp contrast to the way he was fucking you just moments ago. His hand slides over your breast, your stomach, your thighs – thumbing over the marks he’d left behind. Spencer presses down on one on your inner thigh. You moan as he grabs the meat of your thigh eagerly. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee.
“I love you,” you giggle softly, feeling like you got your brains fucked out. “You’re too sweet to me.”
“Why wouldn’t I be sweet to you, darling?” Spencer answers softly as he leans in, kissing your jaw gently. Your cheeks feel warm. “I love you too. Let me clean you up.”
You hum softly, laying back while Spencer gets up. You watch as Spencer, even more gorgeous in his post-orgasmic glow, grabs a small towel and slips onto the bathroom. He emerges quickly enough, the towel now damp, and slides back into bed next to you.
Spencer glances down at where you’re wet and messy. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, mind clearly busy, and asks, “Wanna let me finger you before we really go and get clean?”
You let out a laugh, and after a moment’s pause: “Yeah, okay."
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gremlingottoosilly · 12 hours
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reader trying to baby trap mafia konig, thinking he’s just some rich guy
It was a good little gig you got going on. Of course, it's not like you wanted to get pregnant by a random rich guy you scouted from a bar - but you needed money, and the rings on his fingers looked like they could pay not just for abortion but for the entirety of pregnancy and a couple years of raising the kid. The fiddling of his fingers also made it look like he is somewhat weirdly soft and nervous for a rich guy - so, you were ready to crash out and get your baby money out of him. Just a little something, either a thousand for abortion or a couple more if he is fine with keeping the kid. Nothing personal. Then he immediately whips out a ring once you give him the test, and all of your plans go straight to hell. You, of course, had no idea that when you were meticulously poking holes in all condoms you had in your pocket during that night, Konig was simply taking the condom off before cumming. You also had no idea that while you were lying beside him, trapped in post-orgasmic bliss, he was copying all of your information and preparing himself for a married life. He saw through all your little tricks - but unfortunately for you, he liked you too much. Couldn't live without the feeling of your tight pussy trapping his cock, allowing him to fill you up with his potent semen. Konig was never one for kids, especially with his line of work - but god, he is going to be the greatest dad. And daddy, of course. You tried to serve him with a regular explanation of needing money - and he simply nodded, saying that he totally understood and would be moving all of your stuff to his place so you could be more comfortable in your position as a newly pregnant lady. All of your doctor visits are paid for - and even when he can't be by your side, a couple of his best bodyguards will make sure you won't escape. Now you sit on his lap as he caresses your baby bump and asks what names you have chosen for the kid. He doesn't really care - he'd take anything besides his father's name - and what colors you want the nursery to be painted in. If you have any special cravings that he can use his henchmen to satisfy, and if your pregnancy hormones are making you extra horny so he could spend hours lazily fucking you while you moan and beg him for another kid. You never do, of course - you're essentially kidnapped, locked away from everyone because your now-husband turned out to be a fucking mafia boss and not just some nervous rich heir. At least now you don't have to worry about money. Just about where they come from.
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st7rnioioss · 3 days
Text
₊˚⊹⋆
matt was leaned against the heaboard of your bed, his legs sprawled out on it. on top of his lap, you were sitting with your pink makeup bag on the bed beside you. your index finger rested under his chin, making his head slightly tilted upwards so you could apply his baby pink eyeshadow correctly.
"matt, sit still! im gonna ruin your makeup," you whined, looking at him with a pout as he moved his legs under you.
"babe, you're- you’re writhing your hips on top of me!" matt argued back, his hands resting just above your skirt tightening gently on your waist. you couldn't hold back your giggle. it was cute how he got so worked up, his brows furrowed the slightest bit.
"'m sorryyy! i just wanna make you look cute.” you chuckled, resting both of your hands at the sides of his face, giving him what you thought would be a quick kiss.
but to your surprise, matt gripped your waist tighter and leaned into the kiss, making the lipgloss you earlier applied to his lips completely smudged against your own.
“matthew!” you mumbled, pulling away from his shimmery lips. matt just laughed, kissing your cheek, leaving a sticky mark.
“you’re so annoying! now i gotta redo your lipgloss and lipliner.” you huffed. of course you weren’t really mad, you just liked to tease matt a little.
“you love me, baby.” he smiled widely, his cheeks an evident pink, fingers tracing smalls patterns on your hips.
─── 🐇
“come on, pucker your lips,” you mumbled, your index finger back under his chin.
matt did as you told, but not without rolling his eyes. he was too busy staring at your tits, pressed together the tiniest bit in your tank top. gently, you swiped the shiny lipgloss across his soft lips, making them a glossy pink.
“look at you!” you leaned back, still holding his face. you smiled at him, but he didn’t look the slightest bit amused.
sighing dramatically, you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing a tiny handheld mirror from your makeup bag, handing it to matt.
“what the fuck,” he raised a brow, trying his best not to smile. the tough guy persona was not gonna last for long.
“don’t say that! you look so pretty,” you giggled with a proud smile, your hands landing on his cheeks again.
you didn’t hesitate for one second, giving him a fat kiss on his lips, definitely messing both you and his makeup up. safe to say, matt was on cloud nine.
─── 🐇
ib: @mattscoquette
taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @toriinie @cupidzsq @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @k-l-a-w-s @pearlzier @pjmpcyy @mbsbaby @christhopersturniolo @mattspolitank @sarosfilms
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xxsunoosprincess · 3 days
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Hi! How are you doing? I love your writing btw, you’re definitely one of my favourite writers 🙈
I don’t know if anyone has asked this yet, but enha legal line + aftercare?? What they’d do, how they’d act kind of thing? Maybe even how they’d like to be taken care of? It’s perfectly okay if you don’t want to do this 🤗
hi hi!! I’m a little sick rn but doing good because I’m finally done with school >:3 also u make me blush sweet anon… I’m glad my stuff makes you happy!! sorry it took a minute to get around to this but I’m indulging in some softer stuff while I sniffle away in bed :,) thanks for the request!!
Enhypen and Aftercare (OT6)
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pairings: Enhypen legal line x reader
warnings: 18+, minors dni, mentions of sex but not pure smut, fem bodied!reader
Heeseung
His face contorts into an expression halfway between pain and pleasure as he slow lying inches his sensitive length out of you, a breathless “hahh” escaping him as he shivers, collapsing onto you. It pulls an unexpected grunt out of you, followed by a series of giggles as he borrows into your neck, huffs of hot air tickling your sensitive skin.
“What the fuck” he whines out. You feel his hands squeeze your hips “your pussy is crazy”. The seriousness in his voice has you caught between a belly laugh and a faux scandalized gasp, swatting his ass gently as you scold him for such crude words. “I’m serious! You. Your body. You’re just perfect…” small pecks between each word, sleepy yawns, and a dopey heeseung clinging to you like a koala. Has fallen into the routine of fucking you before bed, claims it’s “the only way I can sleep now. Need you so bad”, and it might just be true because you can already feel the gentle vibrations of his snores against your collarbone.
Jay
Don’t play rn Jay is literally the embodiment of doting aftercare. The routine is locked and mf loaded. After he bullies your cunt until it’s sore and you are sure you can’t walk, this pillow talk starts. This part is just as much for you as it is for him, because he doesn’t think he could walk right now either. Promises of a future together, a catch-up on how your days have been, chats about if you liked the newest thing he introduced to your romp in the sheets. Just hearing your sweet voice cut through the quiet of night is enough to reground him (plus, he really does care about what you have to say).
I think he’s a little lazy with clean up, keeps a pack of wet wipes at the bedside table to give you both a once over, makes a half-promise to shower with you in the morning, and then rolls over to spoon you, peppering light kisses down your neck as your naked bodies intertwine to watch an episode of your guys’ favorite tv show. To Jay, aftercare is just as intimate as the actual sex. Unintentionally romantic in every way.
Jake
He’s the one that needs the most extensive aftercare, and come on, doesn’t he deserve it? He will eat you out for hours until you are kicking and squealing and prying him away by his hair. He will fuck into you from behind like it’s his sole purpose on his earth. And when all is said and done, he can hardly talk, slipping between English and Korean as he mumbles out a mix of curses and “so good, princess, so good”.
We wants you to play with his hair, curling up into your chest and peppering light kisses across your skin. He won’t admit how his heart skips a beat when you coo out a soft “good boy” to him, instead, he playfully bites you in retaliation. He won’t say anything about it, though. He loves the extra soft treatment, it’s like a reward for pushing himself to his limits to make you feel good.
Sunghoon
He’s such an angel. He’s sweeping you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. It doesn’t matter how big you are, he insists on carrying you because you are his baby (“you know, I don’t lift all those weights for nothing” cue the cheesy flexing). Lets you soak in the shower for a bit while he changes the sheets and prepares pajamas for you. Big believer in actions speak louder than words.
“Was I too rough on you today?” he pouts, slipping into the shower after finishing his post-coital rounds and eyeing the redness that has stuck around on the meat of your ass. No amount of reassurance of you liking it will erase the worried expression, eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed into a thin line. The only thing that makes him stop, makes him burst out into laughter and splash water at you, is the promise you make to spank him next time around.
Sunoo
I’m sorry but he is definitely crying afterwards. Y’all know I’m not on the babygirl Sunoo agenda all the time, but this is something I’m absolutely positive about. He’s just so overwhelmed with emotion, so happy that you trust him to see you in such a vulnerable state, so happy to be with you, so in love with you, the tears are forming in his eyes the moment he watches you reach your finish underneath him. “My pretty girl” sniffle sniffle “you’re so- fuck- so gorgeous”. Doesn’t matter how long you have been together, there is about a 50% chance of tears every time you guys fuck.
He tends to get embarrassed about crying like that so please give him lots of reassurance :(. Gets a little shy and whiny at vocalized praise, but loves gentle back rubs and showers together. Let him wash and dry you, he likes to feel like he is taking care of you just as much as you take care of him <3.
Jungwon
I’m sorry he’s so silly and sweet after. Needs to make you laugh after an intense moment. Eases his mind to see you so happy after being so vulnerable (firm believer in the wonie softie agenda). Still naked as the day he was born as he playfully wrestles with you in the sheets. He’s right next to your ear, letting our exaggerated high-pitches moans and squeals of “wonnie harder!”. He giggles at your indignant protests, reassuring you that he loves how you can’t get enough of your “very hot and sexy boyfriend”.
He seems like the type that needs to be constantly moving, fetching you towels and water and hand feeding you snacks. “Anything for you, babycakes”. Cheesy ass grin while calling you corny pet names in a teasing voice, dodging the pillow you launch his way.
END.
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a/n: reminder that requests are open. I have some to work through and might not do all requests I get, but I love hearing from y’all :3 also this isn’t proofread, just like every thing else 😭 xx - princess
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uzurakis · 2 days
Note
doing an ugly makeup look to see how the jjk men react? pretty please and thank u pookie pie 🙂‍↕️
REACTIONS TO YOUR UGLY MAKEUP . . ?
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featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.
n. ngl nonnie i had to spend a full ten minutes in front of my laptop thinking how to do this interesting request (i didn't immediately have an idea to write it down but got the hang of it later on). no problem pookie pie, i hope u like it :0
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you decided to have a little fun and see how megumi would react to an intentionally ugly makeup look. after spending some time in front of the mirror, you admired your creation—a mix of clashing colors, exaggerated eyeliner, and over-the-top blush. satisfied, you headed to your boyfriend’s room, where megumi was waiting.
as you walked in, megumi looked up from his book. his eyes widened slightly, and he stared at you for a moment, clearly puzzled. he opened his mouth, then closed it, trying to find the right words.
"uh, you look… different today," he finally said, after simulating a hundred different words and scenarios to say in his head, tone cautious but polite; as if he’s walking on eggshells. "did you try something new with your makeup?"
you struggled to keep a straight face. "yeah, i wanted to experiment a little. what do you think?"
megumi tilted his head, examining your face with a mix of confusion and concern. "it’s… interesting. very bold," he replied carefully. "is this for a special occasion or just for fun?"
you could see he was trying hard not to offend you, which only made it harder to hold back your laughter. "just for fun," you said, unable to hide your amusement any longer.
the guy nodded slowly, still looking unsure. "well, if you like it, that’s what matters. but, um, maybe next time you could try something a bit more.. subtle?"
you burst out laughing, unable to keep up the act any longer. "baby, it’s a prank! i wanted to see how you’d react."
relief washed over his face, and you felt his tight shoulders slacking off. “god, i didn’t know what to say without hurting your feelings. don’t do that next time, babe. i was really scared to say anything.”
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GOJO SATORU. his eyes opened theatrically as soon as he spotted you, and an immense grin became apparent on his face. "wow," he exclaimed, standing up and dramatically clapping as well as placing a hand over his heart. "you look absolutely stunning! ravishing! this is the new trend, right? you’re always ahead of the fashion curve, my darling!"
you tried to keep a straight face, but his over-the-top reaction made it difficult. "aww, you really think so?" you asked, playing along with a mock-serious tone.
your boyfriend, your number #1 supporter nodded enthusiastically, stepping closer to get a better look. "absolutely! i mean, just look at those bold choices. the color contrast is so… avant-garde. you’re a true trendsetter." (not the big words, guys..)
"you’re so ridiculous, satoru," you laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head.
he winked at you, his grin never faltering. "ridiculously lucky to have such a fashion-forward girlfriend, you mean. seriously, you could start a whole new makeup revolution with this look."
you playfully smacked his arm arm. "okay, okay, you can stop now. just tell me it’s ugly and i pranked ya.”
"oh, i knew that. but you know me, i can’t resist playing along. your creativity never fails to amaze me." you rolled your eyes, still smiling. "thanks for being such a supportive boyfriend."
gojo pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms warm and comforting around you. "my job, darlin. but next time, let’s try a look that doesn’t make me feel like i’m dating a clown, yeah?"
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GETO SUGURU. "well, well, well, what do we have here?" you made your way to where geto was lounging when he teased, raising an eyebrow. "are we auditioning for a circus today?"
"very funny, suguru. do you like my new look?"
he grinned, stepping closer to inspect your makeup with exaggerated scrutiny. "hmm, let me see… it’s definitely… something. and colorful. very circus-ish."
you gave him a friendly slap on his ribs while rolling your eyes. "huuh, i know it’s terrible."
geto chuckled, pulling you into a hug. "hey, i love you no matter what you look like. even if you do resemble a rainbow clown."
"but seriously, let’s go wash that off before anyone else sees you. i can’t have my girlfriend looking like a picasso painting gone wrong."
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ITADORI YUUJI. "ah, interesting look, babe. what inspired this? are you trying out for a new role or something?"
"nope, just felt like experimenting with makeup today. what do you think?" you chuckled at his inquisitive nature and the fact he’s totally not aware being thrown to the oblivion.
itadori blew an air inside his mouth, examining your face with genuine interest. "well, it’s definitely… unique. did you follow a tutorial or come up with this on your own?"
you shook your head, unable to hold back a smile. adorable, that’s what you wanted to say. "this was all me. just wanted to see what i could come up with."
your boyfriend reflected the smile, leaning closer to get a better look. "well, you’ve definitely succeeded in making a statement. it’s bold, to say the least."
“thanks for being so nice about it. i promise i’ll go back to my normal makeup routine tomorrow." a warmth feeling spread across your chest, relieved he was taking it well.
he chuckled, reaching out to gently touch your cheek. "hey, you do you. i love you no matter what you look like." your heart warmed at his words, and you leaned into his touch. "i love you too, yuu. you always know what to say.
"yeah," he replied with a smile, pulling you into a warm hug. "now, how about we go wash that off and spend the rest of the day doing something fun together?"
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@uzurakis
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latenightdaydreams · 2 days
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Recruit who openly shows interest in Colonel König. Poor guy doesn't know what to do with this bright-eyed, eager to please recruit who openly says to Horangi and Nikto they'd gladly sit on his lap all day if he'd let them.
I just wanna give best boy so love
Baby girl König deserves a soft girl that goes out of her way to care for him💖
Love At First Sight (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, love, fluff, minor dirtiness
1.0k word count
😍
.
.
The first time König saw you was when he was walking to his office. You walked past him and gazed up at him as if cupid struck you with his bow and arrow. You stopped walking and waved to him. König looked around and realized you meant him. He raised his giant hand and waved back to you. The mask on his face hid his confusion.
Later that day, when König went to get himself a coffee from the break room, he saw you there. You turned and smiled brightly up at him again.
“Hello Colonel.”
“Hallo.” He walked past you to the coffee machine.
“How are you doing?”
She’s really trying to make small talk with me? “I’m doing well. You?”
“I’m doing great. I just wanted to say you have really beautiful eyes. They look like a summer sky.”
He stopped what he was doing and just looked at you. “Oh, Danke.”
“Do you need me to make your coffee for you? I don’t mind. I’m on break right now.”
“I—” He looked down at the cup not even halfway filled with coffee.
You slowly take the cup from his hand, your soft delicate flesh coming in contact with his. König looks down at you and feels his heart skip a beat. He steps back slightly to give you room, watching in amazement.
Ever since that day, he seems to see you everywhere. You’re always smiling brightly at him and eager to talk to him. Confusion consumes him. Do you like him? No, you’re too sweet; especially for him. Then today he sees you talking to his best friend Horangi and Nikto. He hangs back, wanting to see if you’re speaking about him. Yes, you are.
“So, he’s single?” Your voice is so hopeful.
“Uh, yeah. The dude is so awkward.” Nikto says. König narrows his eyes.
“He is a good guy.” Horangi defends him.
“I feel like he just needs someone soft to love him.” Horangi and Nikto look at each other and then back at you.
“When he has free time. He’s always doing paperwork.”
“I’d sit on his lap all day then.”
König could feel his ears burning as he heard you say that. So, do you like him?
“Well, his birthday is coming up soon. Maybe give the poor guy a lap dance.” Nikto says, and Horangi laughs. This gives you an idea, though.
“What’s his favorite cake flavor?”
“I- I don’t know.” Horangi admits feeling a little bad.
“Wow, what a great friend,” Nikto nudges him.
König walks away, his heart beating in his ears as he rushes to his office. You see him walk past, your heart fluttering in your chest, and you imagine being held by him.
A week passes and now it’s König’s birthday week. He goes about his day as usual, hoping slightly that you’ll do something for him, but he doesn’t hold his breath. That was until there was a knock at the door. He stands and walks over.
Opening the door, he looks down and sees you with a handful of things. The bags are not festive like he expected from you.
“I came incognito just in case you don’t want people to know about your birthday.” You giggle as you speak.
A smile tugs at his lips as he hears that. The fact you considered his privacy makes him feel truly seen by you. “Come in, please.”
König steps aside and you enter, placing the things on his desk. You place the two gift bags down and then open the Tupperware to show 24 cupcakes. He looks at them and then up at you. The look in his eyes softened. No one has celebrated him since his mom passed away seven years ago.
“I don’t know what your favorite flavor is, so there is white, chocolate, red velvet, strawberry, lemon, and carrot cake.” You bite your lower lip and gaze up at him. What you wouldn’t give to see his face and kiss his lips.
“That’s…a lot of work for just me.”
“You deserve it.”
König looks away from you, not wanting you to see how vulnerable he is right now.
“Do you want to open the gifts?”
“Sure.” He walks closer to the desk, grabbing one bag. Opening it, he sees a Build-A-Bear wearing an army uniform, and he laughs. “This is very cute.”
You laugh with him and hand him the other bag. He reaches in to see a bunch of sweets. His favorite candies, cookies, and chocolates.
“This is all very sweet, y/n. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to make sure you know you’re appreciated.”
“You did a great job.” His voice lowers as he looks at everything. “Will you stay and share cupcakes with me?”
“Yes!” You can hide how eager you are to spend time with him.
He sits in his desk chair and you begin to walk to the other side when he grabs your waist gently, he is terrified for what he is about to do.
“Do you still want to sit on my lap?”
“Of course.” A small blush forms on your cheeks as you fall back on to König’s massive thighs. His arm wraps around your waist to hold you steady.
König lifts his mask, knowing you might reject him once you see that he isn’t a handsome man and that his face is scarred. You look at him and smile instead. He watches as you reach over for a cupcake.
“Which is your favorite?”
“Lemon.” His hand begins to caress your abdomen.
You grab a lemon cupcake for him and peel it. Holding it for him to take a bite. His gaze lingers on you for a second, feeling hesitant, but then leans forward and takes a bite. Your fingers gently wipe away buttercream frosting from his lip and lick it off your finger.
König watches intently. He tries to ignore these feelings, but his body betrays him. His cock slowly gets hard. The look in your eyes tells him you feel it. You lean in to feed him another bite, this time locking eyes. As he chews, you press a gentle kiss on his lips.
“I really like you, König.”
He swallows and nods. “I know…why?”
“Just look at you.” You caress his face with your free hand. “I just want to make you happy.”
König brings his hand to the side of your face and brings you in for another kiss.
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midwestprincesss · 2 days
Note
if you want it, you got it! *rubs hands together in excitement*
i will never get over the fact that we didn’t get an actual threesome in the movie 😭 but how do you think art and patrick would work together to get you off?
NAURRR cause i was FOAMING AT THE MOUTH waiting for a threesome scene.
patrick DEFINITELY teaches art everything. how to make out (by making out with him lol), how to give reader head etc.
"watch and learn" he says smugly, patting his blonde best-friend on the thigh as he dips his head into your pussy. art can't even think straight. like. ??? patrick??? the hottest guy ever going down on you, the hottest girl ever, AND IN FRONT OF HIM? this man is BRICKED UP. like, if there was a scale for boners, he'd be breaking it.
and then patrick makes him practice on you, after you've already cum. he's a little mean, and ofc he loves seeing you overstimulated with art's mouth on you <3 the way you keep closing ur thighs, and art just doesn't give a fuck. like, if u suffocate him with ur thighs, he'd be happy he at least got to be between them. but ofc, we have patrick, our lord and saviour, who gently opens ur legs again for art to have better access. and of course, for him to see how he's doing.
"suck her clit, yeah, like that, she likes that." patrick tells art. then he looks at you with that shit-eating grin of his- "don't you baby?" and you just MELT. he knows you like it. yet he had to ask, just to make you feel all embarrassed about it. "don't get all shy on me, now." patrick chuckles. "tell art you like it, honey. tell him he's doing a good job"
"f-fuck- i like it art, you're s-so good at this" you barely manage to say, trying to hold back moans.
"atta girl" patrick praises you, as both you and art moan, almost in unison. (only art's is a lil more whoreish than yours.)
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 2 days
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congrats on 1.6k my angel face ilysm hehe 😘😘
🐇 - “Why don’t you make me?” reader says to steve after being a brat all day…. desperately need stevie to come bully our pussy 🤭
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Heheh tysm bb I love uuu🥺🖤 so uhhh.. I know you said mean Steve but soft Steve kind of ended up taking the wheel on this one I hope that’s okay, also it ended up being 2.1k😅
This is for my 1.6k celebration✨
Warnings: A lil bit of jealous Steve, fingering, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, besties to lovers, fluff fluff fluff. 18+MNDI!!
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“That was so fucking lame.” You sigh as you flop down on Steve’s couch, throwing your head back against the cushions. You feel defeated after yet another unfulfilling hook up. At least for you. Whatever his name was seemed to be having a great time.
“I don’t know why you keep going out with these guys, these losers are never going to make you cum.” Steve scoffs, he’s honestly so over you coming over here after your shitty dates. He’s pretty sure this is how Robin probably felt when he was in the height of his serial dating career. Except she isn’t in love with him. Having to listen to you describe what these guys do, or in most cases, don’t do to you when he wants to be the only one that gets to touch you like that drives him insane.
“Why don’t you make me cum then, Steve?” Steve is almost positive he’s dreaming. There’s no way you just said that. As if you read his mind.
“What did you just say?” His head whips toward you, his eyes are wide and his mouth is agape.
“I think you heard me, Steve…” You cross your legs and Steve swears he sees them squeeze together just a little extra and you’re giving him this look you’ve never given him before. “Why don’t you… make me cum?”
“I -“ He rises from his spot on the other side of the couch to stand in front of you, he rests his hands on the back cushion on either side of your head and leans down so his face is mere inches away from yours. You can smell his minty gum and the way he’s looking at you makes your thighs clench together even tighter. “I don’t think you understand what you’re asking me to do…”
“If I’m not mistaken, I just asked you to make me cum. But if you don’t want to or if it’s weird like seriously it’s okay! Like maybe I shouldn’t have even -“ You’re cut off when one of Steve’s hands grabs onto your face as he leans down to smash your lips together. You let out a surprised gasp against his lips before putting your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He slips his tongue in your mouth and tangles it together with yours, not even caring that his body is bent at an awkward angle standing over you because god, he’s finally kissing you. When you try to pull him even closer he pulls away and before you can even protest he’s sitting on the couch next to you and pulling you into his lap so you’re straddling him.
“Are you sure about this? Because once I get a taste of you I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back.” Steve grabs onto your face again, his large fingertips splayed across the back of your neck while the pad of his thumb comes to run across your bottom lip, smearing the mixture of your spit like lipgloss.
“I’m sure Stevie, please.” Your lips form into a pout as you look up at him through your lashes and god Steve is going to fucking ruin you.
“Alright baby, I’ve got you.” He kisses you again, wasting no time slipping his tongue past your lips. One of his hands it’s still gripping onto your face while the other travels down to squeeze your tit. He gives the other one some attention before slipping between your thighs. He cups your lace covered pussy under your skirt, adding pressure against your clit with his palm. Steve starts to move his hand in circles as he continues to kiss you like he will die if he doesn’t, his other hand comes down to grip onto your ass through your skirt, encouraging you to grind against him.
“Mmm, that feels good Steve.” You pull away from him to catch your breath, a string of saliva still connecting both of your lips. The prettiest little moans and gasps are leaving you but it’s not enough, Steve wants more, Steve wants you screaming for him.
“Yeah baby? How about this?” He pushes your panties to the side, gathering your wetness on the tips of his fingers before slipping one into your slit. He curves it upwards as his thumb applies pressure to your clit.
“Oh god. Yeah, yeah that’s so good.” Steve smirks at you while the pace of his finger picks up and then he’s sliding a second one in and his digits are just so thick and he’s hitting your sweet spot with each thrust of them. You’re so wet his thumb is gliding along your clit with ease and he rotates between soft strokes and adding harder pressure against it. “Fuck, Steve, fuck I think I’m gonna - I think I’m gonna cum.
“Mhm, I can feel your fingers clenching around me baby, give it to me.” He lowers his face into the crook of your neck so he can place open mouthed kisses against it and glides his tongue along the expanse of your throat before sinking his teeth into your skin.
“Ohmyfuckinggod! I’m cumming, yeah I’m fucking - I’m cumming.” Your eyes roll back and your pussy is practically sucking Steve’s fingers in as your walls convulse around them.
“Yeah that’s it, good girl, so good for me.” He fucks you through it, not stopping until he feels you go limp on top of him, your head resting on his shoulder as you try to catch your breath.
“Fuck Stevie, thank you, wow.” You let out a breathy chuckle and go to move off of him but he grips onto your hips, holding you in place.
“You didn’t think I was just going to make you cum once, did you?” He chuckles, gently pulling your head back to make you look at him.
“I mean - you really don’t have to -“ Steve puts a finger on your lips as he shushes you.
“Stop overthinking and lay down.” You oblige him, laying your back against the plush couch cushions.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” He leans down to kiss your neck, down your collar bones, he places kisses at the top of your cleavage before grabbing onto the bottom of your shirt. “Let me see you.”
You sit up so he can pull your shirt over your head and he skillfully snakes his hand behind your back to undo your bra. He wastes no time gripping onto your tits so he can knead them in his large palms. Steve circles his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth.
“Oh fuck.” You moan as your fingers find purchase in his thick locks, just like you’ve dreamed about a thousand times before. Steve kisses down your stomach before looking up at you while his finger plays with the hem of your skirt, asking without words. “Yes, please take it off.”
He pulls your skirt and your panties down your legs and groans at the sight of your slick folds. He grips onto your thighs, kissing and nipping the soft skin there.
“So wet for me, bet none of those douchebags ever had you this wet. Your pussy’s so pretty, baby.” Baby, he’s never called you that before today and you seriously never want him to stop now. “Gonna make you feel so good.”
He leans down and licks a stripe all the way up your slit before circling your clit with his tongue. He sucks it into his mouth as he shakes his head from side to side, moaning at the taste of you.
“Oh my god, Steve! Fuck!” Your fingers find his hair again while you throw your head back.
His tongue slides down between your lips, running the flat of it up and down your dripping slit before shoving it inside you. He curls and swirls his tongue inside you, practically massaging your walls. His lips come up to latch around your clit again, sucking harder than before while he inserts two fingers inside you with ease. He pumps them in and out of you at a quick pace as his lips and tongue practically devour your clit.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum again, gonna cum Steve, oh god.” Your thighs clamp around his head as your back raises off the bed, pornographic moans falling from your lips. When he’s sure you’ve come down from your high Steve pulls his body up so it’s covering yours and kisses you passionately. The taste of yourself on his tongue has you desperate for him all over again.
“That was so hot, you’re so sexy. Been wanting to do that for so long.” Steve mumbles against your lips as he rolls his hips against you.
“Yeah? Me too. Shit Steve, can I make you cum too? Will you fuck me?” Your hips grind up into his, causing him to groan.
“You sure? Because if I fuck you I don’t know if I can just forget it happened afterwards…” Steve blinks rapidly, offering you a borderline nervous smile.
“I don’t want to forget, I want you, Steve, I’ve always wanted you.” You grab onto his face and gently caress his cheeks, admiring how beautiful he is this close. His nose is so perfect, you can see each and every freckle, and those green flecks in his eyes are more prominent than they’ve ever been as the lamp shining behind you practically illuminates him like an angel.
“Fuck, I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that. I love you, you know?” Steve chuckles and you feel his face warm under your palms as you watch his cheeks dust pink.
“I love you too Stevie, so fucking much.” You giggle and all Steve can think about is how fucking beautiful you look completely bare under him, your skin flushed from the pleasure he had given you minutes ago, your hair all tosseld, lips kiss swollen, looking up at him like he hung the stars.
“Yeah? Well, now that we’ve established that, I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.” He smirks down at you before pushing himself up on his knees so he can make quick work of his belt, pulling his shirt over his head afterwards. When his cock springs free you actually gasp at the sight of it.
“Holy shit.” Your jaw drops and you look up at him with wide eyes. “I knew you dick was huge from the outline of it in your slutty little jeans but fuck Steve, where the fuck is that gonna fit?.”
“I think you can take it.” He pumps himself a few times before running his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness so he can rub it along his cock. He bumps it against your clit a few times and it has your squirming underneath him.
“Don’t tease, Stevie.” You whine, pouting up at him, and Steve can’t take it anymore, he slams into you, your wetness having him practically sliding in despite the thickness of his cock. He pushes his hips flush against yours and he is so deep inside you and he’s stretching you out so perfectly. “Oh fucking shit, fuck, please move.”
“It’s okay Angel, I’ve got you.” He laces his fingers through yours as he leans down to kiss you, his hips picking up speed as his cock starts to thrust deep and hard inside you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”
“Faster, please, faster.” He picks up speed, his hips smack against yours so hard the claps echo through the room. He lets go of one of your hands so he can rub circles on your sensitive clit with his thumb.
“Fuck, so good, your pussy is so good, you’re such a good girl for me. Wanna make you cum again.” Steve angles his hips so his cock is brushing against your g-spot just right as he continues to rub your clit in time with the pumps of his cock into your soaking slit.
“Want you to cum too, I want you to fill me up until it’s so deep inside of me it’s leaking out for days.” You push your hips up to meet his thrusts and it only takes a few more rough strokes to have your pussy fluttering around him. “Fuck fuck fuck, yeah, that’s so good, I love you, I love you.”
“Oh god, shit, I love you too. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Steve groans as his cock twitches inside of you, ropes of his cum painting your walls. When he comes down he drops his body weight on you, burying his face in your neck.
“Damn. I don’t know why we didn’t do that sooner but I’m really fucking glad we did.” You chuckle, running your fingers along his muscular back and shoulders.
“God, me too. I fucking love you.” He pushes himself up on his hands so he can look at you with that signature goofy smile, resting his forehead against your own.
“I really fucking love you too, Steve Harrington.”
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