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jenosbigtoe · 5 months

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your abo fics slaps so hard honestly 😩😩😩 please write alpha!haechan w my beloved breeding kink… only if you’re up for it ofc! the way he’s been hitting the gym lately got me all 🤪🤪🤪

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: brother’s best friend!alpha!lee haechan x mark’s little sister!reader

warnings: breeding, creampie, unprotected sex

a/n: idk why i can’t just write a normal abo fic i gotta add another trope… but brother’s best friend!hyuck is so.

it should be a federal crime for lee donghyuck to look that fucking hot.

it was obvious he had just come from the gym, wearing a black tank drenched in sweat and grey sweatpants. he reeked of pure alpha pheromones, making your little pussy dampen and drool. he had been working out so much lately, you could tell. his arms got so beefy and his chest so thick, veins popping out as he bragged about his gains to mark. you fantasized about how it would feel to get pinned underneath him as he took you as his omega, your face buried in his burly chest as his biceps held you down.

as he stood in the doorway to your room, he gave you a flirty wink and blew a quick kiss. he definitely noticed you eye fucking him. “sup, babe.”

you groaned and threw a pillow at his big head. “ugh, hyuck, get out. mark still isn’t back from class if you’re looking for him.”

lee donghyuck. your brother’s best friend, whom you’ve known since he was the annoying little shit that was attached to mark’s hip at 6 years old and teased the daylights out of you for being such a little baby that still clung to big brother markie. the donghyuck that once put a frog in your hair and let it pee on you. the donghyuck that has blown out the candles on your birthday cake every single year, for 17 years, since you were 5. the donghyuck that was only a year older than you but still treated you like a little baby.

in spite of all his teasing, you always had a huge crush on him. and he knew that. he loved taking advantage of that fact. when you finally presented as an omega a year after he presented as an alpha, he took his teasing to another level. making sure to grab your hips as he walked past you, pretending to hump your ass when your back was turned. rubbing his scent all over you when markie wasn’t looking, giving you a sly wink when you were sufficiently claimed and red in the face. getting really close to your face to brush a hair out of your eyes, almost as if he was going to kiss you.

you didn’t really know what your relationship with him was. really, you wanted nothing more than to be his omega and for him to be your alpha. but he just loved teasing you and you loved all the attention you got from it.

“oh no, babe. i’m not looking for mark.” his eyes held a dangerous glint as he slowly walked over to the side of your bed.

you stared up at him nervously. “hyuck, what are you doing?”

he wordlessly crawled onto your bed and pinned you underneath him. strong hands grabbing your small wrists and body pressing you down into the mattress. his pupils were blown with lust as he looked at you like a piece of meat in front of a hungry predator. your heart was beating out of your chest. you felt like your blood was on fire and your stomach was going to twist itself into a pretzel.

“donghyuck, what the fuck are you doing?” your voice was small and nervous.

he leaned his head down to nuzzle your neck, inhaling your sweet scent deeply. you were getting dizzy from the pheromones emanating from his body as he kept you pinned beneath him.

“fuck, omega. let me stay like this for a second,” he groaned into your neck. you felt his hardening cock rub against your thigh. your pussy started drooling and screaming for him.

“hyuck…”

he shushed you by pressing a hard kiss to your mouth. he sucked on your lips like a man starved, grinding his erection against your thigh and keeping you pressed into the mattress so you couldn’t escape. you moaned at the contact, reciprocating the kiss with the same fervor.

he suddenly broke the kiss to look you deep in the eyes. you could see the flaming hot desire burning beneath his pupils. “omega, let me make you mine? please? i’m tired of these games. let me make you my mate, omega.”

your heart soared with happiness. you couldn’t hide your excitement as you grinned and nodded your head vigorously. were you dreaming? donghyuck had never even this was everything you had ever fantasized about and more. your dream alpha taking you and making you his? and you didn’t even have to do anything besides sit here and look pretty?

he took you balls deep, easily slipping his fat cock inside your dripping cunt. you were already so wet for him. such a good omega for her alpha. so perfect and all for him. you eagerly took everything he had to give you. after all, he was your alpha.

“a-ahh! ah! alpha, please!” you sobbed into his shoulder, mind numb and pussy clenching from pleasure. your legs shook from around his shoulders.

“fuckkkk, feel so good, omega,” he pressed a sweet kiss to the top of your head and caressed your cheek. “you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this day. how long i’ve waited to finally make you mine. just couldn’t take it anymore.”

his hips drove impossibly deep into yours, tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. your cunt gushed and clenched around his thick cock. his heavy balls slapped against your ass and made lewd sounds from the wetness of your pussy.

“alpha!! please!! don’t stop!” fat tears of pleasure rolled down your face.

you buried your face into his thick chest and grabbed onto his beefy arms for support. his delicious scent and intoxicating alpha pheromones filled your head and left you feeling so so needy for him.

your sweet pussy clenching and dripping around his cock was too much for him to handle. “gonna cum, omega, and you’re going to take it all. you’re going to take every last fucking of my load. gonna fuck my cum into you til you’re round with my pups and everyone has to know you’ve been claimed by your alpha.

you nodded your head vigorously, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts. “yes, please, alpha!! i need your cum so bad! cum inside my pussy, please!”

with a final hard thrust snapping against your hips, he bottomed out inside your bruised pussy. you could feel his cock throb and twitch inside as his hot cum filled you up impossibly full.

#nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream #haechan x reader #haechan smut #lee haechan x reader #lee haechan #haechan

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ivysangel · 4 months

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crying and starving..need jayroy..threesome..!!! save me!!!

(the way a jayroy threesome would actually fix me like hmmm let's take a little visit to the roommates!au !! also thank u for this ask lumi my beloved. a study needs to be done on how you keep curing my writers block)

you hadn't known them as long as they had known each other, and when you initially moved in, you'd felt like an outsider, wondering if it was too late to find another set of roommates with less history between them. somehow, you ended up being the missing piece in their friendship, and so the three of you evidently found a home in one another. in the apartment you shared, the couch you'd fallen asleep on many times waiting up for them, the kitchen jason’s banned you two from after you almost set the house on fire when he was out town, the bottle of shampoo you bought for one that was now shared between three. articles of clothing that no longer had one owner, the surplus of snacks in the cabinet that never seemed to run out or even run low. it's in the stolen bites of food, the hamper that never gets too full, the tv show you know you could've finished ages ago if it hadn't been for the promise that you wouldn't watch if all three of you weren't together; and you kept your promise. even when they were gone for weeks, radio silent, leaving you with a godawful cliffhanger to think about until they returned bruised and blooded, but eager to find out which character was getting killed off next. and return they did, tired and in pain; so you waited even longer until the night they both joined you on the couch, roy taking the remote and finding where you left off while jason made some popcorn in the kitchen.

it was in the way those tv show catch ups often ended with you naked, purple marks littered across your body, legs shaking, and tears streaming down your face. people talking on the tv still playing in the background, but you could barely hear it over the lewd sounds of the two men fucking you. starting with roy in your mouth and jason in your pussy until he got his fill, or as much as he could before roy started complaining that he was being a hog, and then switching places. now you lay on the couch, back flat against the soft cushions as roy holds himself above you, palms leaving indents in the sofa while he fucks you deep, and jason's got your head turned, cheek pressed flat against the plush cushion, as he rocks his hips into your mouth back and forth; the sensations of both overwhelming you as you start to approach your third orgasm. it was always a game between them to see which one could put you over the edge first; which nipple pinch or brush against your clit made you start shedding tears and beg for a break. they'd argue about it for days after too, even going as far as to ask you who the victor was, and each time, you'd tell them it was both. the way they'd fold you like a pretzel, the feeling of them alternating between fucking and teasing you, the lockjaw you got after giving them head, their muscles underneath your fingernails as you dug into their skin, searching for something to ground you, and the tickle of their hair when they got really close to your neck. the way jason's cum was thicker and roy's load was heavier, but they both ended up inside you almost every night before you were cleaned off and showered with praise. you may not have known it a few months ago but you definitely knew it now; it would always be the both of them for you, and it would always be you for both of them.

#★ dirty laundry ★#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood x you #roy harper #roy harper x reader #roy harper smut #roy harper x you #jason todd lover #roy harper lover #★ lumi ★

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corroded-hellfire · 3 months

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I just realized it's them. Eddie, the Reader, and my kids.

It would be funny if they were watching the movie and Eddie teases them that they look like kittens and some say it's actually them as a family.

I needed to write this. Was very compelled to write about Eliza making everyone watch this movie lol. I hope you like what my crazy brain came up with!

Previously talked about on this ask too 😻

Words: 1.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Family movie nights have become rarer as the boys have gotten older, but the tradition hasn’t been altogether lost. Once in a while you can wrangle the boys down for an evening of snacks and family bonding.

Luke is laid out on the floor as per usual, on his stomach and pounding down Doritos and Mountain Dew like a man starved, not a 14-year-old boy who just had three large helpings of baked ziti not an hour ago. Ryan occupies the La-Z-Boy lounger that is effectively known as Wayne’s chair, it being the older man’s favorite spot in the household. The older Munson brother’s attention is currently half on the movie and half on the girl he likes at school.

Eliza is sitting cozy on the couch between you and Eddie. At some point during the movie, she’ll end up snuggled against either you or her father, but right now she’s content enough to sit on her own, her pink unicorn blanket spread out over her lap and little legs.

Eddie is slouched against an arm of the couch but has his arm draped along top, the tips of his fingers just barely able to brush over the back of your neck. So, of course, that’s what he’s been doing since the movie started. You sit hip to hip with your daughter, a bowl of popcorn balanced on your thigh that she and you keep taking kernels from.

As the song Everybody Wants to Be a Cat ends, Eddie smiles to himself. He sees his children in all three of the troublemaking kittens that were just singing and dancing around on screen.

Ryan notices and raises an eyebrow at his father. “The singing cartoon cats making ya happy, Dad?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and flicks a pretzel in his eldest child’s direction.

“No, smartass. I was just thinking how they remind me of you guys.”

Luke rolls on his side so he can look at his dad over his shoulder.

“Did I grow a tail I wasn’t aware of? I’d like to think you’d keep me updated on that kind of thing, Dad.”

“You’re the little wiseass cat,” Eddie says, gesturing to the screen with his chin. “The orange one that tries to act all tough.”

“Toulouse,” Eliza says, as if her father should’ve known his name and it offends her that he didn’t.

“And he’s the one who’s most like the dad,” you point out with a shrug. It’s no secret that Luke is basically Eddie’s twin.

“He’s not their dad!” Eliza says with a small huff. Her parents are disappointing her with their Disney knowledge tonight.

“My point still stands,” you say before pressing a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head.

Luke shoves another handful of Doritos in his mouth and goes back to looking at the screen.

“I’m not a ginger,” Luke says, though with his mouth being full it sounded more like, “M’not a jinjuh.”

“Who’s he?” Eliza asks as she points to the black and white cat on the screen.

“I thought you knew all the names,” Eddie says. Eliza rolls her eyes, looking identical to her father as she does it.

“No. Luke is Toulouse so who Berlioz?”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie says now that his daughter has cleared up his confusion. “Definitely Ryan. He’s the quietest one but he can still be mischievous.”

“Silent but deadly,” Ryan says.

“Like his farts,” Luke adds, making Eliza giggle.

“Who me?” Eliza asks, looking up at her father with the same big brown eyes that she inherited from him.

“Marie, of course,” Eddie says as he musses her curls. That name he knows by now. “You’re the spoiled, pampered, sweet girl of the gang.”

The word “sweet” doesn’t seem to matter to Eliza, only focusing on the first two. Her little round face pinches up in a frown; her brows coming together over her dark eyes and her lips forming into a puckering pout. You try, and almost fail, to contain your laughter as your daughter stares at your husband with the cutest menacing look you’ve ever seen.

“What?” Eddie asks when she doesn’t look away.

“Not a spoiled kitty,” she says.

“You asked!” Eddie scrunches up his face and sticks his tongue out at her. She does the same in return, proving that your husband is as mature as a three-year-old.

Luke finishes the Doritos in his mouth and wipes his cheesy hands off on his White Sox shirt.

“You know, I think our whole family is like theirs,” he muses.

“What?” Ryan asks. By the tone of his voice it sounds like he’s over everyone talking and just wants to watch the movie in silence again.

“Yeah,” Luke says and gestures to the screen in front of him. “Stray, scruffy alley cat gets the pretty, sophisticated girl that’s out of his league?”

As unsubtly as possible, Luke jerks his head back towards you and Eddie on the couch.

“Hey!” you pout. “That’s not true.”

“Pretty much is,” Eddie admits with a laugh.

You move to scoot closer to your husband, little Eliza getting caught in the middle. The small girl hisses like a cat when she gets squished between her parents.

“Jesus,” Ryan groans as he rubs a hand over his eyes. Any form of overt affection between you and your husband has been annoying the teen boy lately. Eddie finds it amusing and whenever the two of you are alone your husband quietly surmises to you that your son is more annoyed by the fact that he can’t express the same sort of affections to the girl he likes. It makes sense since Ryan has always been one to express his love physically with hugs and such.

Now, Eddie presses a smacking kiss to the side of your head—almost to spite Ryan’s attitude—

before looking down at your daughter squeezed between the two of you.

“I think you even look like a kitty!” he tells her.

Eliza pushes her way to her feet on the couch with a huff. Watching her trying to stand in the cramped space has you tucking in your lips to avoid laughing. Once up, Eliza shoves at her dad’s shoulder as she’s seen her brothers do to one another many times.

“My little kitty!” Eddie teases, finding her reaction comical. He snatches Eliza and holds her in his lap as he tries to press kisses all over her face. Stubble scratches and rubs against Eliza’s soft skin, making her squeal and wiggle around in Eddie’s grip.

“If we’re all cats, do you think another family will adopt me?” Ryan asks in a sullen adolescent tone.

“No,” Luke answers simply. Thank God he hasn’t become a brooding, moody teenager—yet, anyway.

Eliza manages to slip free from her father’s grip and runs over to jump on Ryan’s lap.

“Save me!” she wails.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got ya,” Ryan says as she snuggles into his lap, tucking her head beneath her eldest brother’s chin.

Eddie takes advantage of the newly empty space between you, and he pulls you flush up against his side. You give Eddie a soft kiss before laying your head on his shoulder.

“Ick,” Eliza complains, looking over at you on the couch.

“Yeah, ick,” Ryan echoes.

“Wasn’t he the one who wanted us to have a baby practically as soon as we got together? Now he thinks it’s gross that I kiss you,” Eddie says softly to you, but not soft enough that Luke didn’t hear.

“Yeah, but now we got what we wanted,” Luke says with a shrug.

“Maybe now you guys can get fixed,” Ryan says with a smirk.

Eddie opens his mouth to retort but Eliza holds her arms in the air, an immediate call for silence.

“Shhhh! This good part!”

She snuggles back against her big brother, who sticks his tongue out at his dad.

Casually, Eddie wraps his arm around your back so he can flip his oldest son the bird without Eliza seeing. Ryan just laughs and goes back to watching the movie, curious to see what’s so special about this part. The sixteen-year-old’s laughter brings a smile to your face. You haven’t heard it as often as you’d like to lately.

After Eddie situates his arm around your shoulders, you snuggle up to him and drape Eliza’s unicorn blanket over your lap. The Disney movie is not as enticing to you as your husband is, so you press a kiss just below Eddie’s ear before whispering to him.

“I love our kittens. No matter how ferocious they like to pretend they are.”

Eddie chuckles his agreement.

“The cutest little feral monsters around.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS #request

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eroticdarling · 6 months

Text

☆×☆×☆×☆×☆×☆×☆×☆

Their favorite positions!

Tokyo Revengers × Reader

☆×☆×☆×☆×☆×☆×☆×☆

Headcanon~♡

☆ LINKS WILL BE INCLUDED ☆

× Featuring × — Timeskip! ♡ Shuji Hanma ♡ Kazutora Hanemiya ♡ Keisuke Baji ♡ Takashi Mitsuya ♡ Seishu Inui ♡

× Cw × — ♡ Fem!Reader ♡ Anal Play ♡ Rough Sex ♡ Vaginal Sex ♡ Nipple Play ♡ Marking Kink ♡ Biting Kink ♡ Teasing ♡ Deep Penetration ♡ Oral (M & F Receiving) ♡ Ass Smacking ♡ Soft Sex ♡ Soft Smut ♡ BDSM ♡ Dick Riding ♡ Begging ♡ Sex Toys ♡ Vanilla ♡ Hair Pulling Kink ♡ Praise Kink ♡ Counter Sex ♡ Shower Sex ♡ Doggy Style ♡ 69 ♡ Upstanding Citizen ♡ Flatiron ♡ Cowgirl ♡ Stand and Deliver ♡ Leap Frog ♡ Seashell ♡ Pretzel Dip ♡ Missionary ♡ Spooning ♡ Table Top ♡ Chairman ♡ Pinball ♡ Seated Wheelbarrow ♡

× A/n × — ☆ Literally worked my ass off on this and tbh I wanted to do something like this for a while and add links cause I saw a few people do this about a month ago but I forgot to like it so I could give proper credits. This is a one-time-only thing cause I'm not putting myself through this hell again. Sorry besties 😭. I do not own any of the TR pictures that will be shown below × Credits to @chironiverse on Pinterest ×

☆ MINORS DNI ☆

(☆)

☆ — × Shuji Hanma ×

Doggy Style | 69 | Upstanding Citizen

If there's one sex position this man loves is the classic doggy style, the way you get on all fours while his upper body is draped over yours does something to him. He also loved that this sex position allowed him to have deep penetration and easier G-spot stimulation.

Another thing that Shuji found particularly enticing about the doggy-style position was the feeling of control he had over you and how he could use it to his advantage whenever he wanted. He often would tease you in this position or add to the stimulation by rubbing your clit or making you do it.

His second favorite position was the 69 position, he would lay down, flat on his back, and make you climb on top, so you facing away from his upper body. This position was one of the best for dual pleasure so you both could get a piece.

The easy access to your cunt and how he could see it was a beautiful sight for him. While you're sucking his dick while playing with his balls, he has one hand on your ass squeezing or smacking it while he's eating your pussy like a starved man with two fingers in your ass to increase the ecstasy.

Honestly, the upstanding citizen position was a turn-on for him when he felt like it. Don't get him wrong he loved this position but he would most likely use it in situations like when you both are in the shower and he finds it as an opportunity to do this or when he's standing up rock hard and then you playfully hop on him and straddle him, wrapping your legs around his body. One thing leads to another and now you're pinned on the nearest wall and holding onto him for support while he's fucking you senseless.

You both moved in perfect sync with one another, with pleasure and satisfaction washing over your bodies in every feeling. Shuji could visually see how he made you feel, he loved watching your face as you felt the overwhelming bliss while in this position. He loved hearing you moan and seeing your breathing become rapid.

𝑫𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒚 𝑺𝒕𝒚𝒍𝒆 ♡ 𝑺𝒊𝒙-𝑵𝒊𝒏𝒆 ♡ 𝑼𝒑𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒏

☆ — × Kazutora Hanemiya ×

Flatiron | Cowgirl | Stand and Deliver

Kazutora's first favorite position is the flatiron, laying you facedown on the bed, legs straight, hips slightly raised, creating a snug place for his cock kept him on his feet. One of the things he liked doing in this position was placing his hands on both sides of your hips, pressing them into the bed while thrusting so he could go deeper into you.

As he fucks you in this position he can't help but start biting on your shoulders and the back of your neck. His teeth sink into you while going at a slow pace that's driving you crazy. He's also calling you the sweetest nicknames in between the bites and thrusts letting you know he's all yours.

The Cowgirl was his second favorite because even though he liked being in control he loved it when you were. You would kneel on top, pushing off his chest and sliding up and down his thighs, Then leaning back and supporting yourself on his thighs.

By using this position you were able to delay his climax and intensify your own, which was something you enjoyed as much as he did. For extra intensity, you would bring your chests closer together by leaning forward, then taking the time to add some nipple play and neck kisses into the mix.

I feel like you could just simply imagine Kazu putting you in the stand-and-deliver position. He has you standing, bent over with your back arched at the waist, while he's behind you with a silky scarf that's already tying both of your hands together as he fucks into you, feeling how tight your walls are getting around his cock.

This position got you seeing stars as your tits hang and bounce up and down while he's going deeper into you. He's gonna put in a few ass smacks that'll leave burning marks and nine times out of ten he'll even lift your back a bit and put your arms in between his so you don't run and to keep you locked in. I also feel like he loves this position better in the shower because he often enjoys shower sex.

𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏 ♡ 𝑪𝒐𝒘𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 ♡ 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑫𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓

☆ — × Keisuke Baji ×

Leap Frog | The Seashell | Pretzel Dip

Keisuki loved the leapfrog position so badly that it was like he could do it every day if he wanted to. You get on your hands and knees like the doggy style but fully face down with your hips raised, basically being the face down ass up.

His hands grab your soft hips for more leverage while his thrusts are getting animalistic and your face is sinking into the pillow taking in all of your moans and cries begging him to slow down while gripping the sheets tightly trying to last long before getting pushed to your climax.

Now for the Seashell position, he would most likely have you lie back with your legs raised and your ankles crossed behind your head while he fucked you from a missionary position. I also feel like to tease you he would ride high by rubbing his pubic bone against your clitoris, or ride low by directly stimulating your G-spot with the head of his cock.

In this position, he had full control over you, and seeing how full and cock drunk you were would be sending him into a spiral. Your face and how your body responded to him would give him the power to keep going even if he already cums inside of you about three to four times.

The Pretzel Dip position plus Kei is something else because he's gonna be extra with it. He's already got you set up by laying you down on your side. Then, he kneels between your thick soft thighs, straddling your bottom leg. Your top leg then rests on one of his thighs for deep penetration and while he's fucking you he's also grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him so he can see you better.

And remember when I said he would do the extras? Well, this man would be into nipple play and using sex toys to add more stimulation. He's adding nipple clips into the mix or grabbing an ice cube and using it on your nipples while at the same time using anal beads and/or vibrators for your ass and clit. If he doesn't feel like using those then he'll simply use his fingers to circle your clit while two fingers are in your ass.

𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒑 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒈 ♡ 𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 ♡ 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒛𝒆𝒍 𝑫𝒊𝒑

☆ — × Takashi Mitsuya ×

Missionary | Spooning | Table Top

I feel like Takashi would be into simple and Vanilla positions like Missionary for example. You're on your back, while he lies facedown on top giving you slow and sweet strokes. As he's thrusting and stuffing you mercilessly hitting all your pussy’s favorite spots he's whispering how good you feel with a sprinkle of neck kisses here and there.

He's also praising you, telling you how beautiful you look and how much he loves you, while he's trying not to be vocal but the feeling of him burying himself into your tight and aroused cunt made his dick twitch. It's hard for him to not melt when he's balls-deep in you and you're looking so stunning under him.

He more than likely loves the Spooning position when comes home from work at night and you're in the bed lying on your side on the phone, waiting for him. He would take a shower and only put his boxers on then get under the covers with you in the same position, facing the same direction, and bring your knees up slightly to align your ass with his pelvis. You're already naked so it's easier for him to just slip his underwear down and slide his aching cock into your cunt that was waiting for him to fill you up.

This was like a routine that you both loved and couldn't stop and as his chest made contact with your back his hands were gripping your hips with his nails digging into your soft skin. His thrusts were deep and if he wanted to go deeper then he would place his hands on your shoulders to increase the intensity.

You were the one who introduced him to the Table Top position and ever since then he's been addicted to it and uses it whenever he can. He would fuck you on the edge of a table, counter, bed, or any flat surface. He doesn't care, whatever is close to him he would pick you up by your ass and lay you down. Nine times out of ten if he's hungry for it he'll rip off your clothes and under clothes.

For example, Takashi grabs your ass and picks you up, making you wrap your legs around him. He goes to the island that divides the dining room and kitchen while hungrily kissing you also dipping his tongue in your mouth. He laid you down and instantly took your clothes off, leaving you naked, and started unbuttoning his pants. And before you knew it he had your legs down and placed your feet on his chest, in front of your shoulders snapping his hips into you at a rough pace. You writhed under him cause the pleasure you secretly yearned for was given to you.

𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒚 ♡ 𝑺𝒑𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ♡ 𝑻𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒐𝒑

☆ — × Seishu Inui ×

Chairman | Pinball | Seated Wheelbarrow

Chairman is a simple position for you both and pretty easy, unlike his other favorite position. Seishu sits on the edge of the bed and you get on top of him but, face away. You leaned back on him, creating full body-to-body contact as he wrapped his arms around you and slowly thrust upward into you.

At first, he goes slow into you until you beg him to go fast and then you're bouncing up and down his dick. He's also the type of person to add in love bites and mark you on your neck or somewhere where it's visible so people know you're taken.

Seishu loved putting you in crazy positions and the Pinball was one of them. You get into a partial bridge position (like a pinball machine), with your weight resting on your shoulders, then he's fucking you from a kneeling position. He finds it enjoyable because depending on the angle of how he's thrusting into you it allows different kinds of stimulation, ranging from fast and intense, to slow and sensual.

He likes to stay in control and make sure that you're loving it just as much as he is. He enjoys hearing your moan and gasp as your arousal builds to a climax. He also liked grinding against your pelvic bone for more intensity and if you wanted more then he threw one of your legs up against your shoulder so he could go deeper into you.

Another crazy position he liked was the Seated Wheelbarrow, Inui is sitting at the edge of the bed, while you position yourself so your ass is in his lap. Then, you plant your hands firmly on the floor, stretching your legs out behind his waist and he's holding your thighs for support. When you both first did this he noticed that this position allowed him to rearrange your guts and since then he's been lowkey addicted to it.

The way you look in this position to him is intoxicating and the atmosphere is getting thick. He loves when your back is arched and your ass is on full display for him to pump two fingers in while his other hand is kneading your other cheek. What's even sweeter to him is how your ass bounces every time he rolls his hips into you and you're arms shaking, trying to keep holding yourself up. If your arms gave out on you then Seishu would pull you up and fuck you in a reverse Cowgirl position.

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏 ♡ 𝑷𝒊𝒏𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 ♡ 𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘

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arlerts-angel · 5 months

Note

I’ll go back to Armin for a second. I think Armin prefers love making (hate that term) over fucking, many probably agree. What does he do that distinguishes lovemaking from fucking?

a/n: senpaii you're absolutely right and i agree. here you go the two (2) people who asked for this now 🫶 i really love this one i hope y'all do too 🤍 i'll get back to the taglist eventually!

cw: armin arlert x fem reader, oral sex (m and f receiving), penetrative sex (piv), breeding kink 😃👍, pet names (angel, pretty)

making love

armin sets the mood. i'm talking rose petals trailing to the bedroom, candlelight, chocolate covered strawberries, the whole nine.

and if he wasn't already all about pleasuring you, you can count on having lots of attention from him when he makes love to you. from kisses trailing from head to toe, soft "i love you"'s to "you're so beautiful"'s spoken against your skin, he takes his time with you; hands exploring your already familiar body for probably the millionth time. he finds something new to love about you every day.

he kisses your inner thighs lovingly. his lips travel slowly to your core, flicking his tongue sensually up and down your slit before finding it's home at your clit. his fingers slide in and pump gently at a steady pace, curling up just enough to hit your sweet spot.

when you're close to cumming, he quickly shifts positions to put his cock inside you. he holds your hands against the mattress, level with your head. fingers intertwined, his grip tightens with the first thrust of his hips. his pace is slow and steady. heavy breathing, sighing, quietly mumbling about how good you feel, how pretty you are, and how much he loves you. he lets go of one hand so he can rub your clit, ensuring that you feel as good as possible when you cum on his dick.

fucking

when armin's desires are a little more libidinous, he'll want to start with his dick getting sucked. he loves the look and feel of his dick in your mouth. it's such a dirty thing for his pretty girl to do :(

he's much more taunting when he fucks, too. if you gag while sucking him off?

"aw, too much for your pretty mouth? you can take it, angel. show me you can handle it."

once you've satisfied him with your dick-sucking abilities, he rewards you with his sweet, hot load down your throat. not something he does often because it's wasteful to him. he much prefers to dump his cum inside you in hopes you'll give him a baby one day.

while he's recovering, he'll make sure you get yours too. he'll eat you out, but much more messily and hungrily, like he's starving. he also spells his name with his tongue on your clit as a way of marking his territory, like some kind of ritual.

when he's ready to fuck, he folds you into a pretzel and watches how you take him in. he gives you about one or two soft thrusts to adjust before absolutely pounding into you, the tip of his cock kissing your sweet spot just perfectly.

while he's fucking you like this, he's a whiny, whimpery mess with tears in his eyes. he stays elated on cloud nine, and when he cums he makes sure to cum as deep inside you as possible, so not to be wasteful. :)

"gonna cum, angel. you ready for it? gonna give me a baby, right? gotta fill you nice and full— ah fuck yeah—take my cum— y'look so pretty fucked and full"

#📝 — mack wrote that #cw: breeding #tw: breeding #breeding kink cw #armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin x reader smut #armin arlert x fem reader #armin smut #x reader smut #attack on titan smut #aot smut #shingeki no kyojin smut #snk smut #aot armin #armin aot #armin snk #snk armin #smut

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slothspaghettiwrites · 8 months

Note

Bestie. Bestie…

The world deserves to know all about Country!BigDaddy!Ari. Bless them. Bless us. Tell us all about his rusty red truck and his bad habits and how he fucks when he’s had cheap Jack Daniels. Tell us, bestie.

Look, I know we were just talking about Daddy and this ask is quite old, but let's talk

Big Daddy

Warnings: country/hillbilly au, female!reader(she/her), heavy daddy kink, pet names, a bit of second chance romance, smoking, drinking, explicit sexual acts, head canons because I doubt I will make this full fic to share with everyone and we were feral and unhinged on discord when this first came about.

Country!Ari is a wild one night stand that turns into so so much more when you finally leave the big city and come back home where you belong.

Ari is very blue collar, works for the county on the highway crew, owns a bit of land and lives in a double wide.

Ari was captain of the football team when you were in high school together, and he is still very popular. Most of the guys from the team still get together and play touch football on the weekends

When you come back to town, he makes it his mission to make you his for keeps. He got one taste of your perfect pussy, heard you moaning his name and calling him Daddy for one night and he was hooked.

Everyone around town teases the fuck out of him the way he follows you around like a big puppy dog. If only they knew what he was whispering in your ear 🫣

"C'mon, sugar, why are you fighting us? Such a stubborn little thing just because of something in high school? I just wanna treat you and that sweet pussy of yours right. Let me be your Daddy."

It is no surprise the first time (really this is the second time), you fuck it's during a Friday night football game. You don't even know why all it took for you to say you'd go was your mama saying "Ari goes to every home game", but you showed up.

The 1st quarter isn't even over yet, but Ari catches you a few spots over on the bleachers eating a soft pretzel with cheese and he's dragging you away to where his truck is parked far out in the field lot. It took everything in him not to lick the little bit of cheese off the corner of your mouth in front of the whole crowd.

Ari's truck is big and red and "old". It's a bit rusted out and really jacked up, but he looks regular sized next to it. The passenger side is missing the foot rail so he always has to help you climb up.

However when the tailgate is dropped, it's the perfect height for him to have you lie back while he eats your pussy like a starved man.

And does he fucking love giving you oral. Loves feeling the weight on you on his face, the muffling of his hearing with your thighs clenched around his head.

He could spend the rest of his life with your clit in his mouth and your pussy juices running down his chin.

The one thing he won't do is finger you.

At least not if he plans on fucking you. If your sweet lips are around his cock he can't stop himself from coming down your throat. He will finger you then if you want something to cum on too.

But when he has every intention of fucking all the thought outta your little baby head, Daddy only uses his mouth to get you ready for his dick.

"Let Daddy in sugar, wanna feel every inch of me in ya, don't you? Gonna treat you just right, baby, fuck you just how you need."

God taking his cock a stretch 😤 it's heavy and thick and long and so fucking pretty just like the rest of him. He loves when you get dumb on it. Loves how all it takes to get the sour outta you is Daddy's cock stuffing you full.

"Only sweet for me, ain't'cha? Only like this for Daddy."

Big Daddy is full daddy mode basically all the time. He is so sweet on you.

Anyhoo 😤😤😤😤😤😤

#sloth asks #howdoyousleep3 #ari levinson smut #ari levinson #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x reader #this has only been sat in draft for an age and a half #😅😅😅

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lovebugism · 1 year

Text

✶ ┄ I LIKE YOUR FACE !

summary: eddie and his cynical eyes have a confession to make pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 0.7k a short and sweet lil thing warnings: just tooth rotting fluff <3 a/n: i need this man like i need to breathe at this point ..

( MASTERLIST )

“I like your face,” Eddie confesses in the faintest, gentlest murmur a loudmouth like him can muster.

It hangs in the humid air of both your breaths and lingers beneath the thin sheet looming over the two of you. He smells faintly of beer and weed and the mint gum he chewed in attempts to get rid of it all, and you of the chocolate chip cookies you scavenged from his pantry like a person starved.

It’s getting hot and harder to breathe beneath the covers, in this impenetrable fortress you’d made out of blankets as old as the both of you. From where your legs are twisted together like pretzels, you can feel skin going sticky with a fine sheen of sweat. But neither of you are eager to leave; to pierce the bubble of peace surrounding his stained mattress like a summer cloud, with the both of you upon it.

You want this moment to last as long as the universe will allow it to.

You grow somehow warmer at the compliment. You tuck your face into the pillow beneath your head in a fruitless attempt to run away from his words.

Eddie’s hand rises from where it was twisted in the thin cotton of your t-shirt — an oversized piece of Blondie merch from a few years back he picked up for you at a thrift store; “Made me think of you,” he shrugged like it was normal for him to exist and see bits of you all around him.

His fingers crawl into your hair and settle at the roots, resting between the strands like they were made to do it. It sends a soft tingle down your spine.

You fear if you close your eyes for too long, you’ll fall asleep. That frightens you. It means, when you wake up, that this nirvana will be a memory.

You shift your head on the cushion to peek one eye over at him, all shy and cheeks pink with it.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” you wonder aloud. It sounds more pathetic leaving your mouth that it did jumbling around in your head.

You can’t help it, though. You need to hear it more than you need to breathe. Of course, I do. You’re the prettiest thing these cynical eyes have ever seen.

Eddie doesn’t say that. Not any of it. Not even close.

He only shrugs and juts his lip out like he’d never thought about it once. “I guess so,” he concludes. “If you want me to.”

Maybe he feels you stiffen from next to him. Or maybe he hears the way your breath catches in your throat. Perhaps it’s all of those things and the flash of hurt that strikes across your features like lightning. Because Eddie goes lax with a sigh, realizing how it sounded coming out of his mouth — more pathetic than yours.

He was never a wiz with words. That’s probably why he can’t seem to pass Ms. O’Donnell’s. Give him a D&D board, a beat up journal, and a campaign idea and he’s golden. But put a pretty girl in front of him and a heart so full he’s scared it might burst and he’s done for.

“It’s more than that, though,” he whispers. The breath of his admission brushes featherlight across your cheek. “It’s more than beauty... There’s a— I don’t know— like, a kindness to your face, you know? You look at me so soft sometimes, and no one’s… No one’s ever looked at me that way before. 'S nice.”

You feel your throat run dry like a barren creek at his honesty.

You’re not sure how he can say any of this with the way he’s looking at you.

His got this lopsided smile on his lips, pink and wet from where his tongue darted out to wet the chapped skin. His cheeks are splotched with red from the heat of the trailer and the blanket that nurses the two of you into the warmth of its velvet arms. Bathed in an amber light that seeps from his lamp and through the thin sheets, his gaze twinkles like that of a glimmering moon.

The entire universe swims in his eyes, and he’s looking at you with them. You're grateful for the chance to float in their infinity.

A kind face, you think to yourself. Hmm.

You’d never thought about it like that before. Albeit, you were never the kindest to yourself. That’s why you so often sought affirmation from the boy beside you, who held all his love in his hands and so-called cynical eyes.

Sometimes you didn’t think you were pretty, let alone beautiful. But kind? Soft? That’s so much better.

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #published by bug #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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chocolatecoveredfanfics · 5 months

Text

Ezreal NSFW Alphabet

Heartsteel! Ezreal x Fem! Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Mature

Cross-posted from AO3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ez likes to pamper and praise you. Especially after trying out something new in bed. You put up with all the crazy positions he wants to try out, so he has to give you something in return (other than his cum).

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His face. Even more when it's drenched in you cum.

But on you? Your tits. He's gonna be shoving his face in-between them, nude or not.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is viscous and things can get really messy. But god does he love seeing you covered in his cum. He has so many cum-shot photos of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has definitely jacked off with your clothing you’ve left behind. The smell of you drives him crazy. Ez has not doubt fapped with you underwear.

God you do not know how much you affect him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's pretty experienced. Had a couple girlfriends and one nightstands here and there but they were always vanilla. But you? Whole other experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It's impossible for him to choose. But so far he's enjoyed pretzel dip and cowgirl. Especially cowgirl. It does something to him when you take control. And seeing your face contort into pleasure and your tits bounce while you ride him? Pure heaven.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

God he can be too goofy. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sometimes, when he's about to go down on you he blows raspberries on your stomach. He also sometimes adds sound effects, like “boing!” when he presses your breasts up and lets them bounce.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

You've never really known what his real hair color was until the first time you gave him head. He's a blond. And very well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You become absolute putty in his hands. He compliments you so sweetly and sincerely. He’s a lovestruck fool around you. And so are you but you’re honestly better at hiding it. He loves PDA while you’re a bit more lowkey. When you have soft, slow, romantic sex? He makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world that matters to him. He may be a goofball but when he expresses his love for you… Wow.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Not that often since his sex drive is pretty sedated with you around. But if you’re far away from each other? Phone sex or video call. You both struggle to reach your peaks without each other’s voice.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BDSM and creampies. Again he loves seeing you covered in his cum. He prefers to be dominated when it comes to BDSM.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) In bed of course. But he also likes doing it in his car or (on rare occasions) the changing room at the studio.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything and I mean ANYTHING that has to do with you will get him going. You sent a cute little selfie to him? He’s glad his pants are pretty loose because he’s gonna have a hardon all day, thinking about you sucking him off. You send him a clip of you practicing your dance moves? He’s gonna need a quickie ASAP. He NEEDS your thighs wrapped around him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that makes you uncomfortable. He's excited to try new things with you, as long you both understand each other's boundaries.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

BOTH. Man is STARVED of your pussy.

But also feeling your mouth around him?? He feels like he's died and gone to heaven.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)Depends on the mood and what you’re both planning for that round. But if you’re away from each other for too long? Desperate sex.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves quickies. He usually makes it into a competition to see who can cum faster. Quickies are also a form of motivation for him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Depends. The thought of getting caught turns him on sometimes.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

1-2 rounds. If you want anymore than that you’re going to have to take the reins.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Fuck yeah. He loves using toys with you. His favorites are vibrators and cock rings.

The only toys he doesn't really like are strokers. He'd rather have your delicate hands wrapped around his cock or your face stuffed full of him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)He loves to tease, but at the same time doesn’t since you’ll retaliate x2 worse the next time you’re in bed together. And he honestly can’t handle that, you make him feel like he’s going to implode.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can be pretty loud and his moans are just as pretty as his singing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He has a phone he uses specifically to record sex with you. The amount of photos and videos he has is crazy. And they’re not just you, there’s various photos and videos of him too. He takes it with him when he’s on tour and can’t see you. He loves mutual masturbation btw

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)His girth is pretty average but it’s long with a slight curve (that hits all the right spots).

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high. He’s really addicted to you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If it’s a night where you’re in control? He’s knocked out like a light. But if it’s a night where he’s in control he’s lulling you to sleep with soft caresses to your back and head.

All in all, this man is absolutely obsessed with you. He's a lovesick puppy around you.

#reader insert #ezreal x reader #heartsteel x reader #lol x reader #heartsteel ezreal x reader

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raainy-daze · 2 years

Note

Hello friend! I'm gonna dump a few of these in your asks, hope you don't get overwhelmed 😂

First one (yes they're all Leo x reader, sue me)

Leo x gn!reader who's pressure-touch-starved in the way that if you put a weighted blanket on them, their brain would short-circuit. What happens when Leo decides to use Y/N as a mattress? 😏 ~🌺👸

Physical Affection

rottmnt leo x gn!reader

summary: while you have the apartment to yourself, you invite your boyfriend over. you weren’t expecting him to be so tired, however.

word count: 584

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i’m sorry if this seems a little rushed, october tends to be a busy time of year for me. you didn’t specify which version in your request, but since i’ve only written rise so far, i assumed that would fit. enjoy!

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Your family was all out tonight. You had the entire apartment to yourself - at least, you did at the moment. You glanced down at your cell phone, noting the message on your screen.

Again, you were correct. He’d promised to show up at eight o’clock sharp, and yet the clock was nearing nine with no sign of him.

You almost fell backwards when someone started knocking on your window at that moment.

You scrambled to the window, undoing the latch. Then, he came toppling in, with his stupid smirk and all.

“Hey, Leo.”

“Why, hello there. Come here often?”

You both began laughing.

“What took you so long? I thought you were dead or something.”

“You know how it goes, come topside, get attacked by the Foot, Murphy’s Law.” He sat down on the edge of your bed. You couldn’t help noticing he looked a bit tired. “I was going to bring something to eat, but apparently the Foot really like Hawaiian.”

“Oh, that’s fine, it’s not like I have a snack stash, or god forbid, a pantry.” You clutched your chest in mock offense.

“Oh, of course not! That would be outrageous!”

You couldn’t help smiling at your boyfriend. “I’ll go grab some chips or something. Back in a minute.” Before he could respond, you vanished into the kitchen. You could’ve sworn you heard a yawn behind you.

When you returned, bag of pretzels in hand, you found Leo had managed to fall asleep in the less than five minutes you’d been gone.

He was lying sideways across your bed, appearing to have fallen backwards from where you’d left him sitting. You sat down beside him, leaning back against your pillow. He shifted a bit, coming back to consciousness. “Mm… (y/n)?”

“Go back to sleep,” you said as you opened your pretzel bag. “You look like you need it.”

He got up to adjust, and before you knew what was happening, he was lying on top of you. His arms were wrapped around your waist, and his face was buried in your chest.

You went tense and froze up. Your arms just kind of hovered, pretzel bag still in hand. He looked up at you, mumbling a very sleepy “Everythin’ alright?”

“It’s fine!” Did your voice crack? You were pretty sure your voice cracked.

That dumb grin was back on his face. “You’re cute, you know.”

The laugh you let out was about two octaves higher than usual. your mind was somehow working overtime and was blank at the same time.

“I can move if you want.”

“No, no, no, it’s fine! I’m just - well I’m just not used to physical affection - just go back to sleep!” You somewhat awkwardly placed your hands on his back (well, his shell, same difference really), as you supposed you were meant to.

He didn’t give off much warmth. That was to be expected, him being a turtle and all. It was kind of soothing. You could feel his chest rise with each breath, and… he was asleep again.

You remained there the rest of the night. It took you a while to fully relax and fall asleep, but… it was nice.

You did kind of regret not eating when you woke up hungry, though.

#tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #tmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leo x reader

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luvliewriting · 2 years

Text

❦Cuddles with Quarry❦

Imagine: Imagining cuddling with the Quarry characters

Pronouns: she/her (only really for the gifs tho)

Note: Is this just an excuse to look at cuddling gifs because I'm sad and touch starved? Maybe

❦❦❦

Dylan Lenivy

He's a lot more playful when it comes to cuddling. Sure when time calls for it, he will just hold you and play with your hair. But most of the time, your cuddle sessions are just full of giggling and playful batter. Tickling each other, pinning games (that he most of the time wins but he lets you win sometimes), hiding his face in the crook of your neck leaving kisses. Overall he's just a playful guy.

❦❦❦

Abi Blyg

You're like her personal pillow, especially if she gets anxious letting her just lay on you and doodle on you. Though when she just feels touch starved she just wants to crawl up on you and slip away with your hands running up and down her back and kisses to her head

❦❦❦

Emma Mountebank

BOY IS THIS GIRL CUDDLY! Like even if you're just doing something simple like making dinner, she will come up behind you and cuddle you. Her online fans love you two and she will frecuantly take pictures of you two while you're cuddling and post them for her fans. She loves to kiss your head as well while you two are wrapped up under your blankets like a pretzel

❦❦❦

Jacob Custos

Jacob is just so sweet, he’s one-hundred percent a big spoon, it comforts him to know that he’s able to make you feel safe and loved just by having you in his arms. It’s even better when the cuddles come from after a workout. Having to watch you sit on the couch while he works out and not be able to go over to cuddle you, so when he finishes, be aware he won’t let go of you for quite sometime

❦❦❦

Kaitlyn Ka

Kaitlyn isn't much of a cuddler, not much of a toucher even. But she loves to just lay in bed with you sometimes, she might play with your hair a little or nuzzle your shoulder. While being very hands off in your relationship, if you really need her to cuddle you she will wrap you up in her arms and hold you and never let go

❦❦❦

Nick Furcillo

He’d crush you! Like no really, mention even just a hug and he’d find some way to make it cuddling just to crush you, not that you minded actually. He isn’t too heavy so it’s not like he suffocates you, and sometimes it’s nice to just have him so close to you.

❦❦❦

Ryan Erzahler

This boy secretly loves to be the little spoon, just getting to have your arms around him and your head against his back. Of course, Ryan will jump up at the mention of you wanting to be the little spoon, he loves to make you feel safe and protected by him. But at the same time, the man just wants to be held.

❦❦❦

Laura Kearney

Like Kaitlyn, she isn't very touchy. But when it comes to cuddling, she loves to have your head in her lap while she just runs your nails up and down your arms or in your hair. She likes having you close without being too close, not that she doesn't like you, she loves you, she's just not very used to physical touch

❦❦❦

Max Brinley

The dude was definitely the little spoon in the first few weeks of your relationship but he’s slowly got more comfortable with being the big spoon, you barely remember the last time you were the big spoon. He just likes to play with your hair or watch you sleep, not to be a creep but more just to know you’re at peace in his arms

❦❦❦

Travis Hackett

As much as Travis loves to have you in his arms, he equally loves getting to lay his head on your chest and just listen to your breathing. Especially if he’s just had a stressful day or been working for hours, just getting to lay on your chest while you talk about anything that comes to mind, your hands in his hair, he completely melts in your touch

❦❦❦

Thanks for reading and don't forget to like and maybe reblog as it really does help me out

Taglist:

❦❦❦

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liz-allyn · 1 year

Text

sugar and vice, pt 5 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: what is the appropriate amount of time to forgive your kidnapper?

words: 3.9 k

warning: mob-typical violence. whump. hurt/comfort. allusions to violence. coersion. kidnapping. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. 'only ten one bed oops' trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. nudity. extremely toxic relationships.

a/n - as many of you pointed out in the last chapter, this version of Peter is darker and messier than TASM canon. expect him to make a lot of mistakes before he becomes a changed man. if he changes.

18+. you're responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if you don't remember watching an episode of pop up [music] video on a television network, then keep it movin'.

Back to Part 4

Part 5

She awoke to darkness. Her whole body felt sore. Head throbbing from the onslaught of tears. She felt like a ceramic pot that had been roasting in a kiln for hours.

Stirring from her dreamless sleep, she glanced left and right. Her hands were free of the bindings. Brow curled, she looked over at the closed door, pondering if her captor had snuck into the room while she was out.

Honey sat up with a start, blinking the remnants of sleep from her eyes. She reached for her wrists, finding nothing but an oily residue left behind. Still puffy from the duct tape rash, her skin was sensitive to her touch, but otherwise unharmed.

She glanced up at the closed door. Her stomach churned. She fought the instinct to curl up and hide beneath the bed. The memory of Peter’s fierce gaze lingered, a raw burn in her mind.

Despite her logic telling her that she was the victim, she still felt conflicted.

She had been kidnapped, sure— and she needed to do whatever was necessary to survive. Strangely, she still felt guilty for taking a swing at him like she did. As soon as her fingers touched the rock, she slammed it into the side of his head, without much thought.

“What are you, stupid? It’s a wonder you even make it home alive each night!”

She couldn’t quite name what came over her. She dealt a blow to his temple that could’ve killed him. Surprised that it didn’t. And then what would that be like? Could she really find it in herself to kill another human being? Not to mention, she’d be alone in the woods with a dead body, with no clue where she was.

The thought made her queasy, twisting her stomach into a pretzel. She could’ve just run away, but when it came time to do so, she froze. Typical.

While she was hiding, she watched and listened quietly to his rampage below. Rage was one thing she expected, but not the misery she witnessed. The look she found in his eyes was something else entirely. Heartbreak and relief, like he would burst into tears at any moment.

It made her heart ache to witness it.

And then she hit him with a rock. Like some kind of cavewoman.

Brilliant idea, she thought disdainfully.

“You need to slow down!” More bitter thoughts flooded her, this time with the voice of her mother. “Always talking too fast! Always moving too fast! You do without thinking. No wonder you mess everything up.”

Her eyes grew heavy with melancholy and exhaustion. Despite the darkness wrapped around her, she felt like sleep was out of the question.

A strange melody crept up through the closed door to her room. Voices. Percussion. Music. Upbeat and entrancing.

There wasn’t a clock in her room but she had figured it was the middle of the night. Why would Peter be jamming out in the middle of the night?

Her stomach twisted again. The thought of coming face-to-face with him gave her chills. She rubbed her wrists idly. She could feel bruises there. She was afraid to leave the room. But she was also starving, and lamented not having at least one sandwich before her daring and ill-conceived escape. She was also miserably dehydrated, as every bit of moisture had leaked through her swollen eyelids.

And she had to pee. And that was now all she could think about. Her room thankfully had its own bathroom. Swinging her still-booted feet over the edge of the bed onto the floor, she tiptoed to the bathroom and relieved herself.

She thought she heard singing. Bad, out-of-tune singing. Creeping to the door, she placed her ear against the cool surface, trying to identify thes source. Out of curiosity or courage, she twisted the handle and peeked her head around the frame.

By the time she reached the bottom step of the staircase into the living room, she had a full view of the area and Peter was nowhere in sight. The one person who was in the room (and the source of music) was Miles, as he sat at the kitchen bar and dangled a pizza slice larger than his head above his mouth.

The music was echoing across the room from a tiny portable speaker on top of the kitchen bar. In his own world, the teenager’s head bobbed as he blew steam from his pizza, then took a giant bite.

She watched curiously as she approached from behind. The giant decorative clock built into the great room wall confirmed that it was incredibly late. Or early. One wouldn’t know it from Miles’ energy, or the volume of his jam session. She looked left and right, expecting to find more people, but saw no one else.

The flow of the music was broken when she accidentally walked into a low-height side table, her knee knocking to the corner. The lamp on top of the table jolted and Miles spun around in the barstool, letting out a piercing screech that could best be described as falsetto.

Honey responded in kind, letting out a shrieking Ahhhhhh of her own. Miles curled himself up on the stool, pulling his palms and one leg up defensively. “Sorry!” she blurted, as he clutched his own chest. “Sorry! So sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“You scared the crap outta me!” Miles said, his panic ebbing.

“I didn’t mean to—wait, is that how you really scream?”

“What about it?!” Miles exclaimed indignantly. “Not the point! You’re the one who’s creepin’ up on people like we’re in a horror movie... Crazy... La Llorona stuff!” The pitch of his voice normalized as he took a deep breath, frustration subsiding. “I dead-ass almost punched you in the face—I don’t mess around!”

“Sorry, sorry...” Honey babbled, her face twisted in a grimace. “I, uh, didn’t mean... to, uh... Llorona...”

“It’s fine!” Miles sighed, his heart rate slowing. It didn’t sound fine. “It’s over—maybe let’s just not ever mention this again, okay? To anyone? Especially not to people I know.”

Honey nodded her head in agreement, motioning that her lips were zipped and she was ‘throwing away the key.’

A few awkward moments of silence passed between them as he reached over and turned down the music on the speaker. He straightened out his zip-up hoodie uncomfortably. A small smile crept up on her face. She found his reaction endearing, and not at all what she expected from—whatever it was they were involved with.

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Hi.”

Miles gave her a sheepish look. “Hi.”

There was a mountain of awkwardness between them. She looked around, then pointed at the massive box of pizza. “So... post-midnight snack?”

“Oh,” the teenager responded, looking back at the pizza. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re probably hungry.” He reached for the box, opening the lid. “Here, have some. It’s Lucia’s. There’s plenty.”

“Lucia’s?” she exclaimed, pondering the distance between wherever they were to downtown Flushing. She moved to the box, peering inside. “I like Dani’s.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect. This pie heats up better,” Miles remarked, taking another bite of his slice.

“Yeah?” Her eyes slid over to Miles. “How fresh is it?”

“Boss said to bring Lucia’s. So I did.” He shrugged his shoulders idly, placing his attention back on his slice of pizza. She slumped with a huff, having been dismissed.

“Boss,” she repeated, a chill going down her spine. “You mean Ben. Or...Peter, I guess,” She glanced around the mostly empty kitchen and living area, almost as if saying his name would summon him like Bloody Mary. “Is he here?”

Miles smacked his lips, wiping his mouth. “Nope, just me.”

There was a pleasant calmness in his demeanor. It seemed to her that he was the only normal person that she’d met since being pulled off the train. The only person that treated her like a real person. Not that Peter hadn’t tried to show her kindness... or at least, what his mind perceived as kindness.

She rocked forward on her toes, suddenly interested in the fibers of the cardboard box. “Is he... Is he okay?”

Miles avoided looking at her, and she wondered how much Peter had told him about her escape attempt. She wondered why she felt suddenly embarrassed by her actions. Ashamed even. What did that say about her?

“Didn’t say much,” he replied. “Said he needed to take care of some stuff. Told me to hang out in case you needed anything.”

Something burned in her chest, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “That was nice,” she stated in earnest. “I guess.”

“He’s pretty cool,” Miles nodded, matter-of-factly. “Nice guy.”

She bitterly scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He didn’t respond. He was skilled at avoiding her provocation despite how badly she wanted to start a fight. Passively, he devoured his pizza in record time, then reached over the box to grab a paper plate. It looked sorely out of place compared to the grandeur of the kitchen.

“Wan’some?” he asked. “I also brought soda and stuff. Boss said no TV, but we can watch a movie on Netflix or something. Or we got a Switch. You ever play Smash Bros?”

It took her a moment for the implications to sink in. “‘No TV?’” she repeated with a growl, letting out a frustrated sigh. “What are we, children?”

She snatched the paper plate from his hand and reached into the box, grabbing herself a slice of pizza. Without further protest, she bit into the pie, savoring the taste. Lucia’s was superior, she recognized.

“He said to get you whatever you needed,” he answered, paying her complaints no mind. “The whole house is free range except for the office. But everything else is cool. You can use the gym. There’s a library. The sauna. A pool, if you wanna check that out, too.”

She blinked at him, nearly choking on her pizza. “This place has a pool?”

“Heated,” he wiggled his eyebrows enticingly.

She glanced down, conniving. “What about a computer?”

Miles shook his head. “Don’t know about that.”

“Could I borrow your phone?”

“No can.”

“C’mon,” she pleaded, her voice gentle. “I’m not gonna call the cops. Just wanna check in with my mom.”

“Can’t bring phones out here,” he shrugged apologetically. “It’s a rule. Phones can be hacked and traced. All you need is a sus text like ‘Hey, I’m here,’ or ‘We issued you a refund for $600,’ and you click on the link and boom. They got you.”

Honey peered at him suspiciously, “Who’s they?”

“No clue.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your ‘boss’ sounds pretty paranoid if you ask me.”

“That actually wasn’t his rule,” Miles explained conversationally. He leaned back in the barstool in a way that made her anxious. “That was Peni. She’s our tech nerd.”

“Peni?” she repeated.

“Yeah, she’s like—a genius.”

Her pizza suddenly became too chewy. “So I’m just a prisoner?” she huffed.

Miles looked over at her for a few moments, considering her. He let out a quiet sigh. “I know it’s a lot,” he said kindly, then added with consolation. “Pete’s a lot. Sometimes.” Stone-faced, she stared back skeptically. “But he’s a really good dude. Just... he worries. He wouldn’t do all this if he didn’t care.”

She glared at him through lidded eyes. “Do you hear yourself right now?” she spat. “You sound like a Lifetime movie. Do I need to call Child Protective Services?”

“Hey, not cool. M’not a child,” he bristled, offended. “I’m sixteen.” She stared at him with a raised brow, watching as he stuffed another slice of pie into his mouth. “Wan’some Mountain Dew?”

She blinked. Several times. Then resigned herself. “Sure.”

The eerie indigo and orange glow of civil dawn peeked through the bay windows of the great room. It was silent except for soft snores. With weary eyes and a suit jacket which had been wrinkled by physical exertion, Peter wandered into his house even more of an alien than when he’d left it.

The sort of activities in which he’d participated in earlier that night did that to him. It made him a stranger in his own home. Even more in his own skin.

He paused briefly and took a moment to gaze upon the lanky teenager sprawled out on one of the leather couches. Jordans crossed. sticking up over the sofa arm. A Nintendo controller rested on his chest as he dozed deeply, film forming in the corner of his open mouth. The sight made Peter crack a bittersweet smile. Nostalgia accompanied by an ache of longing. Somewhere beneath Miles’ oversized clothes, there was a good kid who wasn’t all that different from Peter.

Who he used to be.

His eyes roved across the room to the opposite sofa. Honey was curled up like a cat, still in the blouse and jeans that she arrived in. Her hiking boots were placed neatly next to the couch. The snuggly sight of her made his heart leap into his throat. Her upper body expanded and deflated in a steady rhythm like ocean waves, and the action both entranced and haunted him. The bittersweet feeling in his chest soured and blackened, until it became a guilt-ridden tumor wrapping tendrils around his heart.

He had been so cruel earlier. He erupted into a fit of blind rage. A brute. The kind of anger that made people want to turn their heads. Anger that if Gwen were still alive, she wouldn’t be able to look at without being sickened. He was the sort of person that Aunt May and Uncle Ben would cross the street to avoid.

He thought he’d lost her too. And he was terrified.

No wonder she was scared. It was his fault, to think that she could somehow see him as something other than a monster. Now, there wasn’t much hope in changing her mind.

Peter felt his eyes burn as he peeled them from her lithe form. He glanced down at his hands, observing the deep crimson stains in his skin. Rusty-brown spots soiled the wrinkled cuffs of his dress shirt.

He’d have to throw it out, he mused. There’d be no getting those stains out. No matter how much time he put into scrubbing. No matter if he flayed his own skin off his bones, the blood would always be there.

His heart rate quickened. He felt bile rising in his throat. With alarm, he disappeared down a hallway, tucking himself swiftly in a washroom.

When he returned, he was shirtless. His forearms were bright red, stinging with how hard he’d scrubbed. Head down, he crept quietly towards the staircase leading up to the bedrooms on the upper level.

He paused at the sofa, glancing down longingly at the woman he would never deserve.

The woman that would never forgive him for how he acted.

Never forgive him for what he was. The thought made his lower lip tremble.

He didn’t deserve her. This was an undeniable fact.

But regardless, she was still his responsibility. His to protect. His to keep safe.

His to keep.

His shadow fell over her as he reached down and gently lifted her from the sofa. Effortlessly, he carried her weight like a towel over his arm, or a down-pillow in his hands. Ascending the staircase with her tucked against his chest, he didn’t miss the way she huddled closer to his warmth. She sighed against the skin over his heart in a way that made gooseflesh rise.

Gently, he ferried her, like a small boat on a glass lake. He strode past the door to the room that she had occupied and continued down the hallway, headed to the southern-facing end of the house. He approached the heavy oak door to his bedroom and used his toe to push it open. The action barely disturbed her at all. Like floating on a cloud.

Moving through the bedroom darkened by blackout curtains, he drifted across his room and rested her body on the silk surface of the California-king bedspread. Delicately, he placed her head on a 1000-thread count pillow void of any scents other than his own. He hoped that it would smell like her shampoo by the time she woke up.

He stepped back from the bed, listening the pulsation of her heart. Studied the pace of her breathing. Fixated on her soft features as she floated in her slumber. A familiar pang reached his chest as he watched her, hesitating for only a moment more before he padded to the other side of the bed.

She sighed in her sleep, nuzzling the softest pillow she’d ever laid on, and shuddered comfortably as two arms wrapped around her waist. She felt herself pulled back and was cradled by a firm form shaping her own. It was warm. She was warm. The breath on the back of her neck was warm.

Her eyes shot open, a small gasp catching in her throat. Rapidly, she blinked through the murky twilight of the foreign bedroom, her heart spiking.

“Don’t,” she heard a deep, raspy voice whisper in her ear. She went rigid, recognizing the owner of the voice and the body pressed up against hers. Alarm flooded her.

“Please don’t,” he said softly, with a tone that sounded shockingly broken. She was frozen. Stunned. By fear or surprise, or both.

Another murmur, “Stay with me.”

It was a whimper shaped like a demand. With it, she swore she could feel a tremble in his grip. He buried his face in her hair, his bearded chin tucking into her shoulder. His arms locked her into an impenetrable grip.

Instinct was screaming at her to break the hold. Told her she needed to fight. Or run, as far and fast as she could manage.

It wouldn’t be very far. The previous afternoon he proved that he was more than capable of bringing her back.

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The way the air from his lungs ghosted over her nape made her eyes flutter shut.

His arms were heavy. Firm, but not painful. Solid, not tight. She imagined the hearty limbs of the oak in the backyard of her childhood home. Three seasons out of the year, she’d scale into its arbor, hiding from her troubles. She once wanted to build a home there.

She should fight. She should run.

There was a monster in her bed. She was in a monster’s bed.

And yet, sleep took her soon after. The most peaceful rest she’d had in ages.

When she emerged from her rest, she was alone again. Harsh daylight flooded into the bedroom she hadn’t had the chance to see. After a moment of confusion, she turned around to see the other side of the bed unoccupied. The blankets undisturbed. She glanced down at her own clothes. Though wrinkled and dirtied from her tree climbing adventure and attempted escape, they were intact.

She was surprised, but even more surprised at the strange mix of... anxiety?

When is the appropriate amount of time when you’re forced into your kidnapper’s bed for him to... you know... make a move? Was it her? Was she awful, or even worse—did she smell bad?

The line of self-conscious questioning and odd disappointment frustrated her further. She sighed, silenting cursing her own stupidity, shaking the thought from her mind.

Someone once told her that if life was a horror film, she’d be the first to die. It would’ve offended her more if she wasn’t wrapped up in the notion that if life could be a horror film, how would any of us know we were in one?

Her mother answered— ”Stupid, stupid girl.”

Attention now turned to the surroundings, she came face-to-face with another real-life magazine spread. A dream bedroom. The coziest jewel of this particular dream home.

Although it was a modest size, it didn’t feel that way. The primary bedroom was decorated with a soothing blend of alabaster stone, exposed beams of reclaimed wood, and snuggly linen tones. Vaulted ceilings lined with ash. A winding, black iron chandelier dangled over the four-post bed she laid in. A stone fireplace stood opposite from the bed, accompanied by an overstuffed linen chair. Just as in the other rooms, a double-height window accented with floor-to-ceiling drapes towered over the room and revealed the breathtaking mountain landscape.

She sat up and gathered her jaw up off of the bedspread. Wiped drool from her lip. The room was charming and warm, like fuzzy socks and sherpa blankets. Marshmallows melting on hot cocoa. It wrapped around her, like a hug.

Like her visitor last night.

She yanked her eyes off of the rustic-contemporary decor, searching for Peter, as if he would’ve somehow camouflaged himself into the space. Placing her socked feet down on the blessedly toasty hardwood, she peered around curiously. The gentle roar of water running caught her attention as she wandered to the other side of ithe room. An open doorway led into another massive space, one side lined with wardrobe cabinetry and the other half of the room obscured by a wall.

Idly, she followed the path through what she recognized as a closet larger than her apartment, rounding the corner of the freestanding wall. Clouds billowed around her, as she gazed open-mouthed at the primary bathroom. Sunlight poured in, lighting up the space, bouncing off of white marble and black obsidian glass tile—

And Peter Parker.

Steam wafting off of his nude form, hot water pouring down his backside. She paused midstep, eyes like saucers. Felt the blood rush to her face. Panic swallowed her. She imagined this is exactly what deers must feel right before getting plowed by an F-150, blinded by headlights.

Except that she was blinded by his wet pale skin, the way the steam rose from it, like he was the source of heat. The smattering of freckles spread faintly across his shoulders. His palms were flat against the backsplash as he bowed his head into the stream of water. His dark locks slicked back by a cleansing cascade.

She followed the current down the curve of his shoulders and the peaks of his spine, down to the dimpled valleys of his lower back, and that breathtaking canyon ridge that dips down in a V at his hips— whatever that’s called— and never in her life would she see herself as an ‘ass enthusiast,’ but her mouth was watering now, maybe from the lack of hair on his body (his skin was so buttery smooth, what was his skincare secret?) or the subtle curvature of his shapely cheeks—

Aimlessly, she collided with a freestanding towel drying rack, sending it clamoring to the tile floor. To her ears it sounded like the whole Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade falling down a staircase into a pile of cookware. She didn’t bother to see if Peter could hear the racket.

Like Icarus into the Sun, she hurled her own body back into the closet before she could be seen. Landed hard on the carpeted floor with a thud. She scattered, scrambling like a crab, on her hands and knees until she could get to her feet and bolt from the room.

In a frenzy, she rushed to ‘her’ bedroom, the one nearest to the stairs. She didn’t breathe again until the door was slammed shut and she rested her weight against it. A fire raged beneath her skin, her face aflame with embarrassment. She dragged her palms down her cheeks, groaning with mortification, sinking to the floor.

At what point is it acceptable to creep on your kidnapper in the shower?

Continue to Part 6

a/n - I've gotten such overwhelmingly amazing feedback on this. thank you so much to each of you that commented, sent me an ask, and big thank you to those of you that reblogged!

don't forget, to be tagged you must reblog so I can keep track of you!

thank you so much, angels!

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katnissmellarkkk · 1 year

Text

Hiiii! I wanted to write a little something simple for Everlark and decided to lowkey mix two requests! “A kiss on the chest” and “Katniss learning what they did to Peeta in MJ and kissing his scars”. It was supposed to be set Post-Mockingjay but I instead made it a sequel to my “Peeta wasn’t hijacked in MJ reunion oneshot AU”. If you haven’t read it, it’s fine, the title right there tells you everything necessary to know 😂.

I hope everyone who reads this likes it! I loved writing it and I would really appreciate anyone who enjoyed this to like/reblog! It makes me so so so happy 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹. Also thank you to all my constant encouragers, you guys make my day with all your sweetness 🥹🥹🥹🥹.

Summary : Katniss learns more about what they did to Peeta in the Capitol and sets out to try and make him better. [Non - Hijacked Peeta Mockingjay AU].

Burned. Check mark.

Whipped. Check mark.

Starved. Check mark.

Shocked. Check mark.

Tortured (with water and [redacted][redacted]). Check mark.

I toss the file back onto the table where it was left by Peeta’s doctors, unable to stare at it any longer. Unable to stomach reading every which way Peeta was harmed while held prisoner in the Capitol. Again. I’ve already read it upwards of ten times tonight.

It never gets easier. Reading the extensive list of his injuries, reading the details they managed to pry out of him, visualizing what horrible acts were done to to him, listening to his doctors confer among themselves in sympathy and disgust, they themselves deeply disturbed by what he experienced at the hand of the president himself.

“Sweetheart, would you make up your mind?” Haymitch snaps. He’s in the worst mood he’s been in a while.

“Huh?” I furrow my brow and glare up at him.

“Either read that thing or stop messing with it.” He indicates toward Peeta’s file. “I’ve sat here and watched you throw it down and pick it back up a dozen times already. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic, Haymitch,” I say back but there’s little bite in my tone. I’m too preoccupied with the image of Peeta trapped in a freezing cold cell, naked and bloody and alone and terrified, and it’s driving me absolutely insane. It’s suffocating me, from the inside out. It’s taking up all of the space in my head, leaving no room for even bickering with Haymitch.

And Haymitch knows it too.

Of course, he of all people should be able to read me. After all, the same stupid file — and his crippling remorse — is undoubtedly what’s put Haymitch in such an awful mood in the first place.

“Just go see him, Katniss,” he murmurs, giving me a pointed look. “Go. You’re of no use to him just sitting out here, reading about what’s already been done. Get up and go see him.”

He’s right and I know it. As much as I hate to admit it, I know Haymitch has me there.

But still, I stall. It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta. The opposite, in fact. Since his rescue thirty-seven days ago — not that I’m counting exactly — I’ve spent copious amounts of time with him. I’ve spent every waking moment that I could in his presence and as many of my sleeping ones that I’m allowed.

The doctors aren’t really thrilled about our arrangement there. They want to keep watch on Peeta as he sleeps, to watch and study and take notes and examine him further, but evidently it’s rather hard to analyze his nightmares with me wrapped around his torso all night, like a protective pretzel.

It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta right now. It’s the fact that I don’t think I can look him in the eye, after reading exactly what those monsters Snow hired did to him, and pretend it isn’t all my fault.

“I don’t think the doctors are done with him…” I mumble, avoiding Haymitch’s eyes now.

“Cut the crap, Sweetheart.”

“Go away, Haymitch.”

“Go see the boy or I’ll find a way for you to spend tomorrow filming a propo.”

I glare at him again. “Would you stop?”

“Coin is getting hungry for some new ones.”

“Okay, fine, you win!” I exclaim, springing up out of my chair. “Congratulations, Haymitch. You blackmailed me into going to see my own boyfriend. Happy?” I hiss, kicking him in the shin as I walk past his chair.

Not hard enough to hurt him apparently. Not even hard enough for him to care. Instead he picks apart my wording with a smirk. “Your boyfriend? How darn cute.”

“Shut up,” I call as I exit the room.

The last thing I hear is him making loud, obnoxious kissing sounds in my wake.

I slip past the doctors, both the head and the medical, and beyond the nurses and supply carts and trays of food, into the room where I’ve spent more hours in the last month than I can count on two hands.

“Hi,” Peeta whispers softly as I close the door behind me. He’s shirtless, in bed and seemingly half-asleep already, laying on his side beneath the sheets. Waiting for me.

He looks so much better than he did the night of his rescue. His bruises are healing nicely, he’s gaining weight and muscle back, his hair is clean and curly again — thanks to me and Thirteen’s strong, medicinal shampoo — and his skin is starting to lose that scary, pale, translucent look.

But he’s still so hurt. He’s still injured — internally far more than externally — and I swear, I can feel my heart swell up and break into pieces just looking at him too long.

“Hi, baby,” I murmur softly, crawling beneath the blankets and folding him into my arms. Even with all the weight lost, he’s much too large for me to hold completely, so I make due wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist and stroking the back of his head tenderly.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, burying his face where my neck and shoulder meet.

A wave of guilt ripples through me. “Sorry I took so long.”

But he shakes his head, still having no room for spite in his body. Even after everything he’s been through, he’s still so sweet. He’s still so warm and kind and generous.

Well, towards me at least. The same can’t be said for his behavior toward Haymitch, who he blames for leaving us both in the dark about the rebellion.

“You were worth the wait,” he whispers. “You’re worth every wait.”

I feel myself blush and cover it swiftly by kissing his cheek. “How was your tests today?” I ask, smoothing his hair back.

He shoots me a sardonic look now and I giggle like a little kid. Every day when his dry humor peaks through the darkness, I get filled with ridiculous, unparalleled — uncharacteristic — delight.

“Still tedious as ever?” I murmur, rubbing his shoulder with my pointer finger.

“Boring as ever,” he mumbles before closing his eyes again. He’s clearly exhausted from all the probing they did today. And I know I should sleep too.

I usually sleep whenever he sleeps, wake only when the doctors make me leave, spend as much time with him as I can before getting sent away. But tonight I just can’t. I can’t make my brain shut off, despite the fact that at least half the compound is in bed, the other not far behind.

And of course, even tired as he is, even with everything going on in his mind, he still notices my distress.

“What is it?” He whispers, not even opening his eyes.

“Hmm?” I feign oblivion.

“Katniss, I can see something’s wrong.” He opens his baby blues, peaking down at me through his long, tangled up lashes. He has the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I reassure him, kissing his upper arm because it’s the closest thing within my reach.

“You saw my file?” He’s fully awake and coherent now, his voice much stronger than before. His tone leaves no room for question, even if I could lie straight to his face.

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling suddenly nervous he’ll be angry. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy to read it, I don’t know. The doctors left it out, I just assumed it was okay. “Are you mad?”

“No.” He chuckles lightly before moving his hand down to my hip, tugging me closer if even possible. “No, I don’t care. Read it as much as you want.”

He really means it too. He really doesn’t care if I invade his privacy, dig into his business and overstep my bounds. I don’t know if I’d be so generous if the situation were reversed.

Then again, going by the things I just read, he’s already been tortured and humiliated beyond belief. I doubt he has any concern for privacy left.

“You can ask me anything, you know,” Peeta says after a minute and I cup his cheek in my hand, shaking my head instinctively. I can’t ask him to talk about what they did. That would be cruel.

Instead I lean up and kiss him on the mouth, slowly and softly. Conveying every feeling I have for him, conveying every ounce of affection and gratitude and longing pent up inside me.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Peeta,” I whisper against his lips.

I feel his hand cradle the back of my head, massaging my scalp. “I don’t want to keep anything from you,” he finally says, resting his forehead against mine. “Not anything that you want to know.”

My eyes fall, breaking contact with his. I have questions, yes — understatement if I ever heard one — but I refuse to pry and I’m terrified to ask and I don’t even know where to begin after what I read.

But then something catches my attention. A thick, red, angry line, splayed right in the middle of Peeta’s chest. It stands out vividly against his pale skin and blonde chest hair and I can’t look away from it now.

“What’s this?” I murmur, running my finger lightly across the surface, clocking the way Peeta cringes a little at the contact. “Does that hurt?”

He looks at the wall behind my head for a long moment before nodding. “That’s from a whip.” He meets my gaze again before casting his eyes low. “I don’t remember what I did to earn it.”

“Nothing,” I immediately gasp, my head shaking and brows knitting together. The idea that Peeta earned anything that happened in that mansion blasphemous to my ears. “You did nothing, baby.”

“I know,” he agrees, pressing his lips to my forehead lightly. “I just can’t remember why they whipped me that day.”

That day. Because there’s so many days where he was whipped to choose from. Of course.

My eyes land on another mark, this one dark purple and almost circular, high up on his torso, almost on his shoulder. It’s not a bruise, although at first glance it could be mistaken for one. No, it’s definitely a scar. From what, I can’t tell.

I trace it with my thumb, rubbing it back and forth. It’s raised and rough to the touch, a little jagged even, like it never properly healed.

His hand comes up to touch my arm, almost out of reflex, halting my ministrations. “That’s from the early days,” he explains, with almost a touch of humor in his voice. “They were more creative then… and they had a lot of matches on hand.”

It takes me a beat to figure out what he means by matches. “Fire? Fire matches, Peeta?”

“Yeah.” He nods sheepishly. “Snow had a big supply evidently.”

“I will burn him alive,” I say through gritted teeth before I can think better of it.

“Calm down, firecracker,” Peeta laughs but I’m fuming. I’m fuming mad and ready to fight at a moments notice. I probably could even make a half-decent propo right now, the amount of venom coursing through my veins.

I encourage my own anger, feed it, in fact. Because I want to be angry. I want to feel this rage.

Because if I don’t, I’ll start crying. And that’ll only serve to make Peeta feel even worse. Which I can’t let happen.

I’ve already done that too many times.

I don’t tell him any of what I’m thinking. Nothing good could come from that. Instead I search for a way to mask my anger, protect him from seeing it.

I stretch up and press a kiss against the corner of Peeta’s mouth, traveling to his chin, down the side of his neck and over his collarbone.

He responds by letting out a deep sigh, clearly enjoying the attention.

I journey further down his body until my lips land on his chest, exactly where his scar is.

“What are you doing?” He asks breathlessly, peering down at me now. “You don’t have to-“

“Let me,” I whisper, tracing it again with my finger. He shudders a little at the contact. “Let me make it better.”

I hear him swallow hard. “Okay.” He nods a little, quietly inhaling and exhaling.

I lean in slowly and press my lips to the mark, the whip scar, soft and tender.

I can feel him relax beneath me, deflating almost. I don’t sense any sign of discomfort, so I take that as my cue to continue on, kissing the same spot again and again, moving up and down the length of his wound, creating a circuit and following it repeatedly, waiting until he tells me to stop.

“Katniss,” he murmurs, sounding almost pained, like my name hurts.

“Yeah?“

“Thank you.” His voice is almost inaudible, almost a praise or a plea. Tears leak out the corners of his tired eyes.

I have to fight to keep my lip from trembling, to stop myself from crying too. Instead I crawl up his body, keeping my legs wrapped around his waist and fold my arms loosely around his neck.

“Let me kiss them all,” I say into his skin. My mouth travels across the top of his shoulder, my eyes closed, moving by the touch of my lips alone, not stopping until I land on his burn.

I press kiss after kiss into the bumpy, rough scar, until I feel Peeta’s breathing even out against me. I feel his heart beating against me and his chest rise and fall with mine, and an ember of hope that my method may be working grows stronger.

“Roll over for me,” I urge, keeping my voice as gentle as my touch.

“You don’t have to do them all,” he says but I can tell he’s enjoying this immensely. I can tell this helping him more than any treatment the doctors have recommended.

“I want to, Peeta,” I insist, no question in my tone.

Slowly and lethargically, he complies, rolling over so his back is facing me. I keep my hold on him, both my arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby animal clings to their mother.

He has a plethora of scars and wounds on his back. More than I’ve been able to stomach yet. Not once since his rescue have I been able to truly face the sight before me now.

I begin at the top, resting the palms of my hands on his shoulder blades, pressing my mouth to the center of his spine, to the back of his neck, the back of his ribs, anywhere with a painful mark or dark bruise.

I keep going, never tiring, as if I can kiss him better. As if my kiss can take away everything that’s happened, everything that I unintentionally caused and everything I ache to go back and stop. I kiss him like I can make him whole again. Like I can heal his fractured heart.

Eventually he relaxes underneath me, his breathing evens out again and he goes slack.

Even then, I keep kissing him. Even in his sleep, I refuse to stop trying to heal his hurt.

“I love you, Peeta,” I whisper against his arm, knowing full well that he cannot hear me anymore. “I love you and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save you from this. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

My lips are still on his back when the doctors order me out of the room.

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hellavile · 2 years

Text

pizza boy. eren yeager.

⍉ cw: fem!reader, lowercase intended, pizzaboy!eren, standing missionary, cum eating, unprotected sex, brief oral ꒰ m & f received ꒱, teasing, thigh kissing, hair pulling, eren dents a wall lmao, praising, pet names ꒰ sweet girl, baby, pretty ꒱, black coded.

⍉ mocha’s note: was watching high school musical 3 and thought of when troy brought gabriella some pizza and chocolate covered strawberries… yea lol.

“special delivery!”

crinkles of papers become crunched as you frantically shove away your school supplies after leaping out of your bed, airpods in your ears as you hold the phone in your hand you’re currently using to talk to your boyfriend. rushing to your double-doored balcony to tug open, a gust of warm air hits your face, the big tree in your backyard his easy access to climbing up on whenever he came to visit you. leaning over it to see that he was surely there. a woven picnic basket in his left hand with a box of pizza on top, and a single white rose.

“erennnnnn!” your screech is as adorable as your squishy cheeks, pearly whites and thick black prescription glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose fills his view of you glaring down at him. he’s waving up to you after hanging up the phone. your glossed lips are curled into the widest smile he hadn’t witnessed in days.

the man barely has a second to breathe after he climbs your tall tree into your bedroom before you’re jumping into his arms, eren deeply chuckling as he holds your lower backside with one tatted arm after your legs lock onto his waist, burying your face into his cologne scented neck. your comfort eased him in the matter of seconds. embracing you close, inhaling that adoring scent of shea butter on your skin and your favourite bare vanilla scented perfume. your presence is a gift.

“hey, sweet girl.”

you melt into his touch, eren kissing your cheek and humming as he gives you a big bear hug, swaying the two of you side to side. his big hand holds the back of your head, your hair styled in a high bun, blinking at him as he pulls you in for a slow kiss. moaning into his mouth, endeared by his approach. his hands travel to either side of your face, cupping gently, as if you were ancient porcelain, and kissing you deeper with his eyes shut, jaw shifting. bouncing on the tips of your toes, you giggle in his mouth and pull back, pupils expanded and dainty fingers balling his black tshirt up on his sides.

“wasn’t done,” eren’s roseate lips remain puckered, drawing you closer by your bare waist, plaid gray boxers sitting low just under the fat of your tummy, a simple cotton white tank on your chest. eren could feel your hardened nipples over his shirt the more you pressed your body onto his.

“hi,” you squeal, ducking his attack on your lips and giving him a chaste peck on his cheek before going for your next target . . . the pizza.

“woww,” eren drags sarcastically, folding his buff arms as you scramble to pull a few throw blankets out the closet to lay on the floor, excited to see what he packed, and starved. ready to indulge in the greasy, steamy, pepperoni pizza he had brought back from his job. he knew you were gonna be hungry. you’ve been home all day in your room studying for finals while watching horror movies. scream currently playing on the television. “giving that more attention than me?”

“am not,” playfully, you roll your eyes, crossing your legs like a pretzel and happily patting the empty side of the blanket he’s supposed to reside. “c’mon. i can’t wait any longer!”

“you haven’t eaten, have you?” eren raises his brow with curiosity, taking off his dirty converses before taking a seat. you shake your head no, and he sighs. “what’d i tell you ‘bout that? you can’t be up in this room all day studying without some sort of food in your system. i’m surprised you haven’t fainted.”

“i did eat—technically,” the tone in your voice grows quieter at the last word. eren’s face is straight. you hold onto your ankles as you shrug innocently. “i had two bowls of cereal!”

“when?”

“like, maybe ten this morning.”

“my point exactly. it’s nine at night. where are your parents?”

“out on a date. what you tryna say?”

“nothing. i figured they’d give you money for food or sum. can’t focus on a nauseous brain, my love,” eren pokes your nose before showcasing the items he had in his basket . . . well, his mother’s basket for you. obviously, your favourite pizza from the pizzeria he worked at that you’re obscenely obsessed with. he recalls you screeching in happiness when he first got the job as a delivery boy. two things you loved the most. him, and pizza. free pizza even more.

a fantasy, truly. your own personal delivery boy bringing you the worlds greatest delicacy. you notice he isn’t wearing his uniform meaning he changed in the car. the first week of him working there, friday night he brought over two boxes of pizza, knocking on your front door with his wine red uniform shirt with a pizza logo on the heart side of it. fucked you on the kitchen island after you pulled him inside. you bite your lip thinking about it. eren hands you the rose to sniff, smiling and thanking him as he sets up the paper plates, chocolate covered strawberries he made himself, and two pineapple, strawberry, banana, and mango mixed smoothies.

“you tryna get me fat?” you gape in admiration.

“duh, i need you thicker,” eren jokes, slapping your outer thigh as he guides a strawberry towards your plump lips. you shake your head at him before biting into it, rolling your eyes back and moaning, his fixation dark.

“soooo, good. thank you, baby,” you blow a kiss his way, eren goofily gasping and moving his head to catch it in the air. “can i have my pizza now? pizza gets cold fast!”

“pretty girl gets what pretty girl wants.”

eren meant that. after you finish half the pizza, half your strawberries, and literally your entire smoothie . . . that’s when you sink. heart and stomach satisfied. the lights in your room are dimmed; a few scented candles lit. the modern gray and dark interior always feeling like home to eren. he’s laying on his back with an arm behind his head and his left leg propped up he swings side to side gently. you’re cuddling him, cheek on his warm chest and your thigh thrown over his abdomen as the two of you watch nightmare on elm street. dream masters since it was your favourite. screaming the opening song in his ear as he tried his best to fight you off.

around the time freddy turns joey’s bed into a pool of blood, that’s when you’re craving different entertainment. tugging eren in by his silver chain for a kiss, grinding down on his stomach the same time he kneads the supple flesh of your ass inside of your boxers, kisses rough and wet, heads turning and tongues getting sucked on. the tips of your fingers vibrate, making you feverish to touch him everywhere. nudging the thick cock he walks around so proudly with resting on his hipbone. he’s leaking as you tug down his black joggers to reveal his pulsating dick; a blush pink, girth mouthwatering and the mushroom tip engorged with a heavy bead of precum.

“you gonna take this dick or what?” eren rasps over your cheek, pulling his face back to give you a serious stare, tucking a few strands of his long chestnut hair behind his ear. the bracelets on his wrist clashing as he spanks you hard enough to jolt you forward. mouth widening in shock. not that he’s never done it before, but from how hard he just hit you. pussy aching for him even more now.

“so impatient,” you pout, eren hissing as you wrap your small hand around his cock, scooting back to assume your position on your knees in between his broad thighs. eren lifts his hips up a little to adjust his pants until it sits just below his dick. the lights from the tv flashes over his face, slowly licking his lips as a glob of spit dribbles onto the pretty cockhead from your awaiting mouth. using both hands to stroke him all over, twisting the base and slurping on the head, loving endlessly when his eyes falter shut. thigh twitching as a deep ‘oh fuck, baby’ drags imprudently.

“so pretty,” the way the muscles by your eyes droop into this state of awe blows him up inside, way too sensitive right now for you to sit here drooling and playing with his cock. there’s only one place he needed it right now. in that warm, honey pot you called your pussy. so fucking malnourished of it that it drives him to a brink of insanity from the mere thought of it every time.

days when he can’t get a hold of you because of school, he’ll pull up those filthy videos you send him during the late hours playing with your cunt like his dirty little slut and fuck his hand until cum leaks down his long fingers. finding a bathroom during lunch breaks to whip out your tits and send to him, or show off a new set you bought with your fathers money. spoiled little brat. daddy’s little princess. mommy’s good girl who goes to college. and eren’s fucktoy who he screws the sense out of whenever he has you in his hands again.

now he has you in his hands, and it’s the greatest feeling in the fucking universe. bottom halve bare with your back to your wall, eren tonguing your pussy with that dangerous metal ball pierced into the anatomy, suckling on your clit on his knees before you. the strands of his hair become tangled in your grasp, yanking the soft ringlets as you grind onto his face, dragging your cunt like you’re marking your territory. eren’s chin gets wetter by the minute. throwing your right leg over his shoulder so he could glide his tongue up your inner thigh. biting, swallowing.

then, since he’s so impatient, holds you up with his forearms locked under the curve of your knees, driving his girthy cock into your messy pussy. knees nearly pressed entirely to the wall behind you as you sob in his neck, nails clawing his mole littered shoulders. patchwork tats on either of his arms. cold chain skidding your chest.

“your face, fuck—you’re not thinking anything,” eren grunts in your face, tears staining your gorgeous face, glasses fogging up. he’s right, you really aren’t thinking. there’s nothing on your fucking mind but the way his dick hits into you at just the right pace and rhythm. rolling his hips to nudge that gummy spot . . . the secret to your silent gasps and pinball irises. “i like you like that. means i’m hittin’ it right.”

“hit it harder!” now you’ve lost your mind completely. unaware that this is your second time cumming, milking his cock and getting him to that breaking point. “s’your pussy. take it. fuck it, eren, please! w’na cum again.”

“make me so fuckin’ proud,” eren whimpers, abdomen tingling with butterflies from your pretty voice cracking and screeching. eren keeps his eyes on yours, brows caving in before he’s keeping you flat to the wall, setting your legs over his shoulders and pressing his forehead to yours before fucking you with more force, faster. pounding so hard he actually creates a dent in your wall, both of you ignoring it as you sob and scream his name until your voice box breaks. until you’re sliding halfway down the wall. until he’s stumbling and fucking you slower because he feels that rope threatening to shred in his gut.

“ooh fuck, baby. ooh shit, baby,” eren’s moans are high pitched, unable to contain them. groaning and losing his stroke after your cunt tightens around him as you cum, bellowing a powerful squeal of ecstasy. when he cums, he has no choice but to hurriedly rush you to toss you onto your bed, slipping his dick out and jerking it with a rough fist until he’s covering your tummy with thick, hot white cum.

you push his hair away from his face as he hovers above you, creating a ponytail on the top of his head with the hair tie on your wrist. eren smirks down at you as your delicate fingers scoop up his cum, licking it like icing with a devious grin.

“oh my fuckin’ god,” eren shakes his head before laughing at you, grabbing your throat and kissing you.

꒰ taglist form .ᐟ ꒱

. . . tags ꕥ @dejwrites @indiecursor @massivelynervousprincess @gabzlovesu @emomanswhore @sanwioz @taesd-urag @anajah @rinhoes @festive @erentoes @erenyeagerswhore @caribbeanwifey19 @yooniluvbot444 @cinnitsuki @hannas16 @bubs-world @sintiva @yoshimurah @sailewhoremoon @tojibreedingme @sleepy3 @princess-jaeger @imperatorkhaleesi @aizawap @mrsvaleska @sftbunnyy @zu-ku @sakurazukomura @monirei @sakurazukomura @monirei

#eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x black reader #eren yeager x reader #eren #eren smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #snk eren #☆. hellavile.

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hirsheyskisses · 1 year

Note

CONGRATS ON UR MILESTONE 🫶🏻

Anw, can I request fluff prompt nomor 1 w/ Mystaur and Fulgur?

GN!Reader x Mysta Rias and Fulgur Ovid (separately)

Genre: fluff, short

MYSTA RIAS

Well, here's the predicament: it was 3 in the afternoon. Who knows how long you and Mysta had spent up at night playing the most random games you could find on the internet: you must've only slept around 8 in the morning.

Thing is, is that you're starving.

Mysta still lay fast asleep beside you, his limbs practically making the two of you a very, very twisty pretzel. Legs entangled with yours, arms wrapped loosely around you, his head resting on your chest, snoring softly.

To see the fox detective so peaceful - it was so cute. But- but food-

Slowly but surely, you began to untangle yourself from Mysta, doing your best not to awaken the sleeping beauty.

"Hey.. where are ya goin.."

Mysta mumbled. Well, shit. He nuzzle closer to you and rewrapped his legs around you, a long and deep groan rumbling from his chest.

"Sorry, Mysta. I want food. You hungry?"

Your voice was soft, running a hand through his messy hair, a gentle smile painting your face. "But you're warm.." He grumbled, staring up at you.

"But food, Mysta-"

"...stay in bed with me. ...please? Just a little longer!"

Mysta begged. Those damn puppy- or should i say fox- eyes were what won you over.

".. oh fine."

FULGUR OVID

"'Ish so cold.."

Fulgur complained. The movie wasn't even half over yet, and your damn house felt like it had to be below freezing. Didn't help that he had metal limbs, either. Sure, they regulated heat, but how did you look so fine?!

"It's not that cold, Fulgur."

You replied, never once averting your eyes from the screen.

Fulgur huffed, arms crossed. However, an idea was quick to pop into his head: they were on your bed. And your bed just so happened to have blankets. He's a fucking genius!

In an instant he stood, carrying you in his arms bridal style, and was pulling open the blankets. "FULGUR?!" You yelped, letting out an oof as he flopped you in your bed, snuggling in besides you.

"Muchhhh better." Fulgur decided out loud, and you were squirming in attempt to escape

"Fulgurr- lemme go! This is- this is kidnapping!" His grip didn't loosen, and instead he snickered, snuggling in closer. "Nawwwww.. cmon.."

"..it really isn't that cold!"

Fulgur mumbled something incoherent, letting his head Rest on your shoulder:

"What was that?"

"Just.. stay. A little longer.."

Well, it wasn't like being in his arms was that bad, anyway.

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klbwriting · 3 months

Text

Who Am I Really?

Chapter 3

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Orm and YN settle into a day at the shelter while trying to figure out who he is

The first day with YN at her shelter was fascinating for Orm. After breakfast she took him to see the cats where they started fixing up their area. There were around 6 cats and 3 kittens right now and they all needed litter changed, water, and food refills. She was patient as Orm couldn’t remember ever seeing a cat before. She taught him how to measure the right amount of food per cat, how to figure out if any were on a special diet, and how to clean litter, which was the worst thing he’d ever experienced. She laughed at his face when the smell hit his nose.

“Sorry, sometimes Goose has tummy trouble,” YN said as she cuddled the black and white kitten while he worked. “I’ll get the next one and then we can move on to the dogs. I have a couple volunteers coming in to walk some today, maybe we can ask them if any of them know you from town.” Orm nodded but had a feeling no one knew who he was. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t a metahuman, that he was human at all.

The dogs were not much better smelling than the cats. They cleaned kennels, fed, and watered them and took a few into the play yard to run around. As volunteers arrived YN led them to meet Orm, explaining about him having an accident on a hike, the cover story they had come up with, and asking if they knew who he was or had seen him before. Just as he suspected no one had, but YN was undeterred.

“That’s fine,” she said as they were bathing a large German Shepard after most of the day was over. “We will go into town tonight, walk around, see if anyone put up missing posters or possibly just knows you on sight. How about we go to the mall? Its big and there’s a lot of people, do you think you could handle that? I don’t want to overwhelm you.” Orm thought about it as he caressed the animals head, keeping the boy calm as he was rinsed. The mall didn’t seem like a place he wanted to go, but it might help find someone who knows him. He should probably get it over with.

“Should be fine,” he said. YN noticed he was less than enthused and flicked some water at him. He jumped at the surprise and his mouth fell open before he started laughing. There was a sink near him for smaller animals, so he turned on the tap, got his hand wet and flicked water at her too. When he put his hand back under for more, he noticed the instant boost he got at the feeling off the water. It was invigorating, making him feel stronger than he had ever felt. It was heavenly. YN watched him closely.

“You must love the water,” she said. He looked over, not noticing that he had been entranced by it for longer than normal. He nodded. “Good, you won’t mind this then.” She turned the hose on him and sprayed his face. He sputtered from the sudden wet and then laughed and it felt good. He knew he didn’t have memories, but he felt like he hadn’t laughed like that in a long, long time. Maybe he never laughed, maybe he was miserable or angry, but right now, he wasn’t that. It felt good to laugh.

After finishing with the animals and closing up for the evening YN drove Orm to the mall. He hated it instantly. So many people, so much noise, so much excess. He didn’t know why he was bothered by how much stuff was around but he was. YN seemed to notice his annoyance and led him towards a cart that was selling food.

“I am starving,” she said. “What about you? You think you’re more salty or sweet?” Orm furrowed his brow, looking at the baked treats. Pretzels, his mind remembered that word without prompting. He was trying to figure out what he could remember, how to do basic things, how to read the language here, how to talk, and what he couldn’t remember, his name, past, family. He was trying desperately to pull anything out of his brain to help but nothing was coming. He sighed. “Don’t like pretzels?”

“No, I was lost in my mind,” he said. She looked at him with sympathy, but not pity, it was nice, he hated pity. Well, there was something he remembered. She reached out and took his hand. He felt a small spark in her touch and looked at her. She smiled back at him, and he almost moved closer but the guy at the counter asked for their order.

“2 regular pretzel sticks and 2 cinnamon sugar sticks,” YN said. She pulled her hand away to pay and Orm noticed the gap it left in his hand. Her hand should fill his, that’s all there was to it. She was here with him because she was made for him. And he was for her. Where was all this coming from? Why did he feel this way? She finished paying and he took the offered snacks. They walked towards the stores, and he watched her bite one before taking a bite of his small one. Butter, salt, bread, all tasted amazing on his tongue.

“These are good,” he said, taking a bite out of the sugar one. She nodded. “These are pretzels…”

“Yup, and maybe when we finish walking around we can get you more and try cheese sauce, will change your life,” she said. Orm chuckled. “While we’re here let’s stop and get you some more clothes, you look a little rumpled in those.” Orm looked at what he had been wearing for at least 2 days now. Ya, he could use a change. She led him into what she called a relatively cheap department store. She was asking people as they walked by if they might know him and checking any pieces of paper or notices on walls as they went. She cared so deeply that he be found, that if he had a family that they know he was ok. He was almost hoping he didn’t have anyone; he didn’t want to leave her side. He knew that his emotions couldn’t be trusted right now, anything could easily influence him, but he still had these feelings for her, and he didn’t want to leave her.

“So, clothes, anything?” he asked, motioning to the hundreds of items available. She looked at him, surveying his figure and honestly, enjoying her view, before walking with him and selecting some things. Once she had a few days’ worth of outfits she left him to try things on and find out right sizing. He wasn’t sure what else she did but when he came back out, she had some packets of other basics for him. “Are you sure you want to spend all this money on me?”

“Yes, because if I don’t, you’re going to start smelling like my dogs and I deal with that enough,” she said, a teasing smile on her face. Orm shot her a fake glare and she laughed. It was such a beautiful sound. They bought the clothes and decided to get out of there, heading home. YN couldn’t deny she was falling head over heels for this mysterious visitor. She would still do her best to find his family, help him get home, but deep inside, where her selfish impulses lay, she hoped she could keep him.

#orm marius #king orm #ormmarius #orm marius x reader #king orm x reader #kingorm #ormmariusxreader #kingormxreader #ormseries4

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