H4wkz - Welcome To Wonderland

𝓯𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 ‎

wriothesley x sub!f!reader . nsfw — mdni . established relationship ﾉ daddy kink ﾉ breeding ﾉ oral [ m -> f ] ﾉ dirty talkin' ooo finger suckin' ooooo (๑ ˃̵͈́ᵕ˂̵͈̀ ) ﾉ infantilization + mindbreak ﾉ praise ﾉ lotsa petnames [ babydoll + little girl + princess + sweetheart + baby ] ﾉ sappie wuvie dovie sex bcos ! ! well :3 it's me !

the fortress of meropide’s pankration ring is vacant now— three hours after the stronghold’s annual boxing spectacle, two hours after champagne showers, one hour after all the prisoners and gardes have made their way back to their sleeping quarters.

the fortress of meropide’s pankration ring is vacant now, nearly— it’s pitch black, nearly, save for the warm yellow flickers of the half-functioning light fixture hanging above the ring’s canvas, the image it casts on the rusty steel walls of two bodies pressed together.

a dancing shadow of your back curling into a perfect arch off the floor, the tilts and turns of wriothesley’s head as he fervently suckles on your clit with alcohol-stained lips, the heels of your frilly-socked feet digging further into his shoulder blades, toes wriggling within the lavender fabric.

“daddy—!”

“pussy tastes so good—”

“pleasepleaseplease— won’t last if you keep— h-huuughh…”

“so fuckin’ sweet— shit, babydoll.”

it’s not like your lover to dirty talk you like this— obscenely and unabashedly and so greedily— licking and sucking and slurping and huffing, blunt nails digging into the plush of your thighs, past the white stockings he’s fortuitously torn off your legs where he now leaves little mauve moons upon your skin.

your lover is usually all grunts and groans and whines that get tangled in his throat— but you adore it when he gets like this. you adore it when he gets all touchy and clingy and desperate for your love after he’s knocked back a couple drinks, you adore the carnivorous growl in his voice when he tells you, fuck, princess, need you so bad, you adore the shower of praise and kisses and bold touches where his heart lies in his fingertips and he smudges lines of pink and red all over your flesh.

“pretty little pussy’s all mine… look at you, sweet thing practically drooling for daddy, yeah?” wriothesley moans, speaking more to your cunt instead of you, and pulls away, slick strung in a thin ribbon that connects his lip to the pearl of your clit. he watches how your hole twitches and clamps around air as it searches for something that only he can give you— hungry and ready with how much of your sticky cream oozes from it and drips down the globe of your ass, soaks the silk of his scarlet boxing robe that you lay atop of.

and your daddy’s right— it is practically drooling, so pathetically leaking for him. 

“fuckin’ gorgeous.”

a glob of saliva builds under his tongue at the sight, and he gathers it in the purse of his lips before spitting it out onto your pussy, watching the frothy bubbles cling to your skin, laughing lowly when you begin to whimper and writhe beneath him, knead biscuits on his chest in a weak attempt to push him away.

“daddy, ‘s embarrassing when you look, o-oh—!” your protests are shushed when he collects the stringy mixture of his spit and your slick from your pussy and moves back up to meet your lips, kiss you messily.

“ah, ah, ahhh… don’t get all shy on m’now, sweetheart.”

the peach champagne on his tongue hits you after the sugary saltiness of your release, and evidently, you realize he must be drunk by the slur of his words, the greedy paws that cup your pussy, and then grab at your hips, your waist, your breasts.

a sharp glint of bright white has one of your eyes squeezing shut when wriothesley shifts to look down at you, his smile nothing short of beguiling. his frame is wide— broad shoulders and a strapping chest and sinewy arms that you’re caged under, the gold of the medal hanging loosely off his veiny neck reflecting the light from above.

and, oh, wriothesley thinks you look so pretty when the heavy metal thuds against your cheek amidst his soft swaying— he thinks you’ll look even prettier with his victory wrapped around your neck, because what’s his is yours, yours is his; you belong to him and he belongs to you.

he wouldn’t have it any other way.

bringing the gold up to his lips, he places a sweet kiss on it, lowering the medal back down to you so you can place another one right on top of his, baritone voice losing it’s primal growl and replaced with something more silky, loving. “fuck, couldn’t have won this without you.”

your fingers scrabble at one of wriothesley’s hands, holding it tight to your chest— to your heart— because you think the sheer sincerity in his voice is enough to have you losing balance and falling into an abyssal love. but that’s okay, that’s where you belong, deep, drowning in it, because you love him, you love him, you love him.

“love you, i love you, daddy— so, so much; love you forever…”

and the fortress’ duke thinks you just might kill him, with that admission.

with that milky, fuzzy, adoring look in your eyes, and how you press his palm to your heart, serve him your entire soul on a diamond-embedded platter— it cuts into his chest and carves deep into his flesh. your words are flames, and they are but dew on his skin, soothing and healing. 

something knots in his throat; and all of a sudden he feels overwhelmed— by the rush of alcohol in his blood, by how sweet you’re being for him, by the painful ache of his leaky cock as he slides the length up and down your folds, each of his movements decorated by a tiny whimper that’s pried from your throat.

“fuuuuck, haha— love your daddy that much, huh? well, i love you, princess. love you even after forever.” wriothesley hunches over so close to you, cupping your cheeks with such delicate care— as if you’re crafted from the finest porcelain— before he kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, shoving an eternity’s worth of promises and secrets down into your lungs.

he pulls back shortly thereafter to admire your kiss-swollen lips, wiping the pearls that dew at your lashes from just how achingly painful your weeping cunt feels— from how awfully you need to have your daddy inside you.

“inside— nghhh, wanna feel you inside, wanna—”

“i know, i know, but can you be a big girl ‘nd wait a little longer? can y’do that for daddy?” he shushes you with a sweet coo and prod of his thumb at the swell of your bottom lip, gathering the drool that sits there, before you obediently take the digit into your mouth. his cock jumps against your clit and wriothesley doesn’t realize that his mouth has been watering at the show you’ve been putting on for him until a drop of spit lands on your shoulder— your smaller fingers lightly wrapping around his wrist to hold his hand in place, sucking and swirling your tongue around his thumb, licking the tip repeatedly and hollowing your cheeks, giving his thumb the same attention and care you would his cock.

“a-awhhh, shit— you’re such a good girl, mhm?”

your hips grind up mindlessly against your lover’s cock at his praise and your mind fogs up in submission, taking the digit deeper, deeper, suckling and licking until you’re drivelling spit down your chin, giggling stupidly and coating his heart in fondant. “mhmmm, hehe—! wanna be your good girl, daddy…”

“yeah? archons, you’re so cute,” he chuckles with you, shaking his head at how you’ve already gone featherbrained from so much as a mere suckle of his finger, pinching your cheek softly within his thumb and forefinger. “gonna put it in now, ‘kay? gonna give you your cock ‘nd you’re gonna take it; like my good little girl.”

with his free hand, he holds the heavy weight of his cock in the palm, tapping it over your clit and thumbing at his slit to coax more pre out from it, using the glossy cream to lubricate you further as he slowly pushes his aching, flushed tip past the tight ring of muscle lining your entrance. there’s a lewd, wet pop that follows when he gets his bulbous head settled in between your sticky walls, and he can’t suppress the noise— something in between a groan and laugh— that escapes him.

“fuuuck me, y’hear that?” squelch, squelch, squelch. “haha, that’s my liquid luck.”

“uh huh, ‘s yours, daddy— ‘s all yours, i’m all youuurs,” your voice comes out as a sweet, broken keen, one that dizzies wriothesley and has blood flooding his cock.

“a-ah, you’re gonna be the death of me, i swear…” his breathing picks up as he shallowly thrusts himself deeper into your cunt— it hugs him like a vice— like it loves him, his cock, like it wants to milk it dry. 

and without warning, he sinks fully inside of you until he’s buried deep in your sopping cunt— it’s a perfect fit. where his oozing tip is pressed up snugly against your cervix, every ridge and vein hitting all the right spots that line your walls. 

you drawl out a pitchy whine of his designation at the sudden split of his cock, hiccuping on your breath as he leans his whole weight on you and pushes your thighs back to meet your chest until the backs of your knees land on his shoulders, hips gyrating to grind his pubic bone down on your puffy bud. it soothes the sharp tremors of pain ripping through your core, washing them over with waves of pleasure, and you can only arch your chest up into his almost instinctually, fingers finding his face to trace sloppy stars over high-set cheekbones. 

“daddy, daddyyyy, i wanna k-kiss…”

your boyfriend smiles adoringly in response, not ignoring the heavy throbs and twitches of his cock within your drooling cunt at how fucking stunning you look underneath him: pouty and glassy-eyed as you weakly tug him closer by the lanyard of his medal, all ditsy and limbs pliable like the sweet little baby doll of his that you are, head near empty with nothing but daddy, daddy, daddy on your brain.

wriothesley finds himself unable to do anything but indulge your desperation, brushing his lips against yours softly— once, twice, until he feels your velvety breath settle in his lungs, and then he’s left craving more. 

“ohhh, baby, so tight.” his hips begin to rock against yours, and with each drag of his fat cock along your gummy walls, a hot knot begins to boil in the pit of your stomach. 

your lips break free from wriothesley’s when his thumb finds your clit, feeling him trace his name over the sensitive nub, gazing up at him through your dumbed out doe eyes, tongue caught in between your teeth in a dreamy little smile. because he looks so handsome like this, so, so gorgeous with raven and sleet slicked back by his fingers and the small strands that bounce and fall and curl around the pinch of his brows— it’s like he’s made of stardust and moonshine and tufts of clouds from the celestial skies because your daddy’s just so incredibly beautiful that it give you such a strong kick, one that sends you toppling back into the deep end and has you drowning in his love.

“you won me this gold medal, what d’you wan’ in return? a ring? fuck— i’d give you the whole universe if you asked. put the fuckin’ oceans in the sky for you.”

an erotic mewl escapes you from how romantic he’s being and you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize the effect his champagne-kissed words have on you— your toes curl and hips grind up mindlessly into his, pussy throbbing on his cock when your clit brushes against the cream-frosted hairs at the base.

the hard clamp of your walls peels a low groan from him, head hanging low and medal gently slapping your cheek with each slow, deep stroke, “s-shit, you like that, huh? tell me what you want, sweetheart—"

“want your cum— want it inside— in here,” you cut him off with needy babbles as you bring his palms to your tummy, laying them gently over the love bites that scatter your flesh likes the stars scatter the night sky— an eternal reminder that you’re his. “please, pretty pleaseee— wanna make you a papa— mhnn!” 

and then he’s plunging into you deeper than ever before, cutting your words short, breaking them off into pitchy little pants as he presses his crotch flush against your messy, web-coated folds and swirls the tip of his dick deliciously over that one spongy spot where you’ve been needing to feel him the most.

“awh, you wanna make me a daddy? but i already am one, aren’t i?” he teases, runs his knuckles under your jaw and tugs on the plump of your lip with his teeth.

flustered by his words, you whine, shake your head petulantly and try to hide your face from him with the back of your hand. squeeze your eyes shut bashfully. melt his heart into icing and frost cupcakes with it. “nuh uhhh, you know ’s not what i mean…”

it’s staggering— how adorable you’re being for him, with your sweet pleas and darling little whines, he can’t help but huff out a growl through gritted teeth before leaning down to gather your lips in a kiss; it’s filled with so much love and so much fervour when he swallows your pretty cries with his tongue in your mouth and, fuck, he’s certain that even the mere thought of stuffing you full of his seed is enough to bring him down to his knees.

“perfect— you’re my perfect little doll, yeah? gonna make you a mother, gonna make you my wife, gonna make you the happiest girl alive.” 

and it’s all so much, too much, the thumb he has pressed flat against your tongue to pacify your sobs, the promises he washes your tears away with, the sound of gold thudding harshly against the canvas of the floor when he thrusts into you at a different angle— one that has the tip of his cock knocking at the sponge of your cervix in a way where your hips rock up into his own. “daddydaddydaddy, please, ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cuuuum—!”

“my sweet girl’s already fucked silly? got nothin’ but cock on your little brain, uh huh?”

“uh huh, uh huhhhh— wan’ daddy’s cock, wan’ daddy’s cum, wanna— mmph!”

your mindless babbling pulls a harsh guttural noise deep from wriothesley’s stomach, his vision doubling at the shaky lilt to your voice, at the manicured nails that dig into his biceps and claw red wings there— an eternal reminder that he’s yours. “oh, baby, that’s it, there you go— c’mon, be a big girl and cum all over my cock.” 

“n-no! nonono, wanna cum with youuu—” you cut him off with a sharp keen, wailing out when you feel him start to thrust harder, faster, pearls of your slick and his pre spluttering out to fall as dewdrops on your thighs. doing your best to wrap your arms around his neck amidst the jostles of your body, you pull wriothesley in closer, closer, until his lips meet yours and there’s no space for air between the two of you. 

he can’t help but crumble to ashes as you weep into the kiss, as you cling to him— it’s heart-wrenchingly cute how badly you need him. your slurred whimpers of, daddy, daddy please cum— wan’ it in me f’ever, remind him of just how much he loves you, so much, it reminds him that he is the only one for you in this timeline and every other, he is the only one that can ever make you feel this way— and, fuck, it fills him with a rush that he’s certain he’ll never find in anything else. the knot of fire that treads up his spine coils tighter on itself at the sound of your pitchy breaths and pathetic whines. 

it brings wriothesley to the heavens, and soon enough, he’s prattling on and tripping over his words just as you had been, drooling drivelling from his lips like a fucking dog.

“shiiit, all those pretty fuckin’ sounds you make, h-hah, gonna make me cum, baby— you want that? wanna make daddy cum? want his seed so deep inside ya? yeah, ohhh, i know you do, c’mon then, milk this fuckin’ cock, ’s all yours.”

and so, you moan and whimper and cry out for your daddy, goaded by his words and his cock moulding your cunt to the shape of him, toes curling and tapping helplessly over his shoulder, your orgasm flying through you from head to toe. “fuck, fuck fuck, daddy— ‘m cum’ng— cummiiiing, daddyyy—!”

it’s nothing short of endearing, how you clutch at the nape of his neck and whimper in the junction of his neck, little incoherent mumbles falling onto deaf ears. because when you cum, wriothesley cums too, seeing white, a strangled whine ripping from his throat when tiny squirts push past your hole where the creamy base of his cock sticks to your cunt and thick ribbons of his milk paint the walls of your womb.

your heart dances with wriothesley’s when they meet on the tip of his tongue, his nose brushing against yours with so much delicate care and a boyish chuckle pushing past him when your hips swirl in cute little motions to catch your clit on his pubic bone, grinding up and chasing his cock to keep it plugging you full. “wrio.” 

it comes out as a sniffle, and he can’t help but blush at the small pout you send his way. 

“yeah, princess?” he moves back to pull out of you, but your legs slip down from his shoulders in between his arms to wrap around his waist, ensuring his full length is kept inside your stuffed hole.

“if you move it’ll all leak out,” you whine, pitchy and puerile, “don’t want it to— wan’ it to stay in me forever and ever…”

his seed as a sliver of him in your tummy, a sliver of his love kept in your body until the end of time— his head falls forward into your neck where he can only bring himself to huff out an endearing laugh and repeat your words, “forever ‘nd ever, huh…?”

“mhm… forever ‘nd ever ‘nd even after that.”

you tug on the medal’s lanyard to prompt him to meet your gaze, absolutely cockdrunk and bambi-eyed with your bottom lip tugged coyly into your top teeth— wriothesley knows that look well, you cheeky little minx; and you giggle when you clamp down around him once more, coaxing another tiny rope of milk from his slit, evident by a sharp moan that escapes him mid-breath.

“you’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”

he's dizzy— either from all the alcohol or the intensity of his high or a mix of both, but he still manages to bar you to his chest with two steady hands against your back and raise you both so that you’re sitting upright on the floor, and you cry out at the shift in position, at how his cock is nestled so incredibly deep inside that you swear you can feel him piercing your womb.

and it’s a sound that so sweet, so tooth-rottingly sweet, because wriothesley can’t help but mutter out small proclamations of his love as he lays them all over your face, can’t help the excruciating ache in his limbs and muscles and the uncomfortable twist and turn of his organs because, archons, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

“gold looks good on you, wrio,” you whisper, cheeks burning with warmth and popping like corn from how wide your smile is, from the accidental tickle of his fleeting touches.

you’re floating— high on his love, floating higher, higher, until you’re swimming in the oceans he put in the sky for you, the waterfalls up in the clouds. 

the loss of his touch brings you back down to earth— his fingers are sticky, sweet and salty with drying champagne and a mix of your releases, but he could care less when he removes the medal from his neck and hangs it around yours, carefully laying the gold flat on your sternum, right above your heart.

and maybe he jumps the gun a little when he rubs your ring finger and searches for something that’s not there— his soul fanning across your face in sweet breaths when he starts thinking about white picket fences and a little angel with his hair, your eyes, his nose, your smile— the most beautiful blessing of all.

“well, i think it looks better on you.”

do u evr hate a character so much you wnt to write the most unabashedly horny smut for them . bcos i do ♡ anw hehe :3 tusm for readin ! ! ‎٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و i hope u liked dis n' it made u just as flustered as i felt when writing ⭐️ pls consider commenting ﾉ reblogging if u enjoyed aaa ( =v= ) it wld make mi so happie yayayayyy ! !

𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 2.4k | content: fluff, high school setting!, some cursing

notes: this was something requested by an anon !! i realised this prompt was also done in my other fic whole except nagi was the second lead :’) also pleaseeeee excuse me if this is ass because i haven’t written in a long time T_T but i’m working on getting back properly !! <3

summary: he didn’t ask you out because he wanted to, yet nagi gets more than he bargained for in the end.

“so, um, nagi, why’d you ask me out all of a sudden?”

it’s kind of an awkward situation to be in, you think, as you look around the arcade, shuffling your feet beside where nagi’s seated, trying to win some tickets from what you can only assume to be a music machine.

when he’d asked you out on a date yesterday, you didn’t think he’d take you to an arcade, of all places. (then again, nagi asking anyone out is sort of unbelievable, honestly.) if you knew sooner (or if nagi had bothered to tell you), you wouldn’t have worn such a nice dress for today.

besides, you’re not even sure why you’d agreed. call your state half-flustered or whatever, because you heard that nagi seishiro of all people does not bother with human relationships much. you’ve only ever seen him interact with mikage reo anyway—and you’d just chalked it up to him wanting it that way. nagi had never shown interest in girls or romance or that kind of shit, so cue your surprise when he asked you out yesterday, when he saw you at the bus stop.

“hey, wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

you blinked at him, utterly surprised because that was the first time that nagi had ever spoken to you.

“um, where to?” (you were still malfunctioning over the fact that he was asking you out on a date.)

nagi scratched the back of his head, and you could faintly make out reo a few ways behind him, watching on.

“hmm, not sure, i’ll text you tomorrow morning?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. “what’s your number?”

okay sure, you could’ve asked for more details, but it was hard getting nagi to respond to you at all. you’re pretty sure he was gaming, that’s why.

“oh, ‘cause reo asked me to.”

that… was not the answer you were expecting. “reo asked you to?”

nagi has a bad habit of not elaborating. you don’t really like that, because you don’t like asking questions, but you can’t help yourself now. this is too bizarre for you to let go.

“yeah, something about how he’s sick of me playing games all day long, told me to go get a date, then he’d return me my switch,” nagi mumbles, and you can’t help but think that reo’s plan may have backfired, considering how he’s on a date and still playing games.

while nagi’s grey eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, you find yourself drawn to the way he’s sucking in his cheek as he concentrates, the way his bangs fall over his eyes and how his fingers can respond so quickly to the lines on the screen.

“you’re pretty good at this,” you tell him, getting lost in how well he’s playing. the points on the screen gets so high he’s almost nearing the high score.

for a moment, nagi’s distracted by how close you are to him; your hair smells like citrus and it’s really smooth. it’s also the only time anyone other than reo has been this close and you’re not anyone so he doesn’t really see why you’re able to steal his focus from the game.

someone like you shouldn’t make him notice things that aren’t about games or himself.

but you do—and he misses the first note since the start of the game, though he recovers fairly easily.

he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re in his class and you’re very pretty (now that he’s actually looking at you). you have a really cute laugh too, he realises, right when he wins the game and probably what’s a thousand tickets, with you rejoicing happily beside him.

“oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this,” you’re jumping and giggly and nothing like how quiet you are in school and why does he feel a little giddy knowing that he’s getting to see this firsthand? this doesn’t make sense. “okay, move aside, teach me, i wanna do it too.”

nagi obliges. it’s a pain having to teach someone else compared to doing it himself, he gets to know, as you miss probably half the notes on screen even when he tries to tell you how to do it. hell, he’s not really a good teacher.

you win about 300 tickets.

“not bad for a rookie,” nagi comments as you grab your own pile and stack it in your shared basket. the neon red and blue flashes pretty against your skin. it makes you even prettier, he feels.

you raise a brow. “nagi seishiro, wanna play a bet?”

no, not really. but somehow, he can’t quite turn down a game when it’s from you.

“what’re you betting?”

you hold out the basket in front of you. “i’m gonna find a game where i can beat you.” your chest is puffed out, like you’re determined, like you really believe you can. “if i lose, you can decide my punishment.”

nagi blinks at you. you’re… weird. you make his heart beat faster than usual. it’s a little concerning. “and if you win?”

grinning, you wink at him, “let’s leave that to later.”

whatever possessed him to spend the entire day following you around the arcade and watching you fail, he doesn’t know. you’re pretty bad at everything compared to him, but it’s not really fair—he’s probably spent ten times as much of his days in the arcade than you.

have you ever even set foot in here before?

nagi observes as you try desperately to beat him in ddr. you fail, naturally. your feet coordination really isn’t that good, but it’s pretty cute how hard you’re trying. you’re still pretty even at the end of it, even when you’re sweating and some of your hair is matted against your skin. he keeps that to himself though.

throughout the entire day, nagi finds himself entertained by your persistent insistence to beat him at something. it’s funny how you’re awful at the arcade games. it’s also funny how you’re honestly trying. it’s really no use but here you are, sweating once again from shooting hoops.

your 64 versus nagi’s 154.

“wow, you’re really bad at all these games,” nagi murmurs when he sees your score. “wanna go somewhere else?”

you’re quick to open your mouth but it takes you just as quick to shut it, probably knowing you’ll never beat him. at least, not today. “fine, you win,” you say through gritted teeth. you’re a little prideful; nagi’s learning a lot about you. “what do you want?”

nagi seems to have forgotten your earlier bet. he just shrugs and tells you to choose what you want at the exchange counter.

“you don’t want anything?”

nagi looks at the prizes with such disinterest it makes you wonder what can interest a guy like him. he shakes his head, “i can get anything i want anytime anyway.”

(the underlying insinuation that coming to the arcade with him is your only chance to win prizes flies right over your head.)

but when nagi looks at your slightly disappointed face, he tries to backtrack. “i’ll let you know when i think of something i want since i won,” he says, looking away from you. “but you choose one of the prizes today.”

turns out it’s so easy to please you. just like that and that smile is back on your face.

you choose a big goddamn pink teddy bear by the way. nagi sighs as he leaves the arcade with you. it’s probably a character nagi doesn’t know. he’s judging you, but then you hug it and smile at him and he forgets what he’s thinking about.

“i know this was only because reo asked you to, but…” you mumble after you and nagi both finished eating dinner, sitting across from each other at the ramen shop. “it was fun.”

nagi’s not sure what this is. just a customary thing where you’re showing appreciation for the time you two spent together today? you’re looking away from him though, he’s pretty sure normal customs don’t dictate that. he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to look at him when you say that.

“why’re you looking away?”

you look at him in blank shock (an expression that he doesn’t know how to process—what’s so weird about asking you that?) before you smile helplessly. “you’re very weird, nagi seishiro.”

“what do you mean?” nagi’s clueless, in that nagi seishiro way only he can be.

a few seconds of silence pass when you try to make up your mind. it’s unnerving how big and wide his eyes are, especially when they’re focused only on you and nothing else. in the end, you manage with a shake of your head.

“it’s nothing,” you decide. telling him of your possible crush on him would not do any good, you guess.

something bugs nagi; he can’t understand what it is. he just knows something feels off but it’s not like he’s ever felt this particular kind of irk—he doesn’t know what to do.

when the time comes to leave the restaurant, nagi finds himself walking the opposite way to his home because you started walking first.

somehow, his feet follows you.

it’s stupid—walking this far away from the direction of his home is troublesome. it’ll be a hassle to get home when his bus is on the other side of the long gone restaurant. why is he walking you to the train station again when he’ll just see you next week anyway? you’re in the same class.

“oh, are you gonna take the train too?”

nagi blinks at you, drawing a blank at your question. he must’ve completely zoned out. did the both of you get here in complete silence?

“no,” he answers honestly. he doesn’t elaborate. as usual.

by now, that doesn’t surprise you. instead you just nod your head, a hesitance borne in the shuffling of your feet. “well,” you drawl out, dragging the syllable, somehow hoping this wasn’t the end of the night but it is. “this was a nice one-time date,” you settle for, smiling. you’re about to just say goodbye, but you bite on your bottom lip, contemplating, before you slip his phone out of his hand and slide the screen to the side, taking a picture of the both of you together, nagi looking at the screen in surprise and you winking beside him.

when you hand it back to him, you bite your inner mouth, trying not to grin. “in case reo asks for evidence,” you offer as an excuse. you totally didn’t want to take a picture with nagi. “he better give you your game back!”

nagi gets this fleeting feeling that he doesn’t know how to explain when he sees you smiling at him. like how you remind him of the color gray. not because it’s bland but because it’s his favourite color. you remind him of spring and the cool breeze and how refreshing it feels.

“it was a nice one-time date, nagi seishiro,” you chuckle before you turn around, ready to head into the station and probably never spend such time with nagi again. you’ll probably get over the sadness of what could’ve been pretty quickly. you think.

but just before you can enter, you hear the firm steadiness in nagi’s voice. “no.”

you whip your head around, not quite sure you heard him right. “no?” you narrow your stare a little, moving out of other people’s way as they push past you into the station. “as in, you didn’t like it?”

you hope he doesn’t mean it like that.

nagi looks away, earnestly processing it. it came blurting out of him, he didn’t even know what he said until he said it. “i won the bet and what i want is… this. again. with you.”

the implications of his words slowly sink in and it has you feeling giddy. nagi, the guy who barely cares about anything nor makes the time for anyone—is he actually telling you this? is he really saying he’d take you out more?

meanwhile, nagi’s feet stay firmly planted where he is, wondering why you make him feel like this, why you make him feel like he can’t get enough. you’re just… you. before today, he could honestly say you were insignificant. but just the way you are; how you speak, your smile, your laugh and your resilience—nagi likes it, finds comfort in it, somehow.

“then,” you say as you enter the station, face giddy with the excitement of something new blossoming. “i’ll wait for more dates with you, sei.”

the way you call him that makes his heart skip a beat and he’s left blankly staring at your figure as you retreat into the station, stealing his heart with you.

“fine, fine,” reo sighs. it’s two days later on a monday and reo grudgingly gives nagi back his switch. “so, what’d you two do anyway?” he asks, shifting his gaze between nagi and you, though you’re at the other end of the classroom, talking excitedly to your friends.

nagi’s attention quickly transfers to his switch, already opening up a game to play. “nothing much,” is all he offers, and reo’s beginning to think maybe it was more of a punishment for you than a date.

reo sighs again, ready to lecture nagi for being the worst date ever when he pulls up his phone to look at the time. but he accidentally takes nagi’s phone instead, unlocking it to find his own chat thread—to which nagi doesn’t even bother saving his name (reo side eyes him but nagi doesn’t even realise).

that doesn’t surprise him, but what does is when reo realises your contact is saved—with the icon being a picture of the two of you together. you must really be something to be able to make nagi do something so idiotic like this.

“oi, nagi.”

nagi only responds with a raise of his brow. he’s still clicking away at the controls. reo guesses it must be a racing game from those sounds.

“if you guys get married i better be the best man for being your matchmaker,” reo teases, his grin filling his face.

even though nagi doesn’t respond, the champagne pink that brushes across his cheeks is enough indication to reo of nagi’s feelings for you.

looks like he never needed to worry after all.

satosugu x riding

When you ride Gojo, he can’t stay still. You just look so cute when you’re on top of him, lips parted and breaths coming fast and choppy. He loves the squeeze of your walls, but he needs more. Needs to feel you quicker and harder, so he holds your hips steady and fucks up into you, pistoning his cock into you until your pretty eyes are filled up with tears and you’re crying out. He cums with you just like that, legs shaking as he fills you up with his cum, revelling in the wonderful feeling of your hot cunt around him.

When you ride Geto, he stays as still as possible. He is leisurely watching you, smirk never leaving his face as he watches you struggle to angle your hips just right so that the head of his cock hits your sweet spot. You can’t seem to manage it, making you whine and beg for him to help. He goads you, teases you, about how helpless you are and how bad you need him in order to feel good. Only when your cheeks are wet with your frustrated tears does he flip you over, pounding into you hard and fast until your legs are seizing and your pussy is pulling ropes of his cum out of his dick, groaning into the nape of your neck as he releases inside you.

DUMMY CUNNY — you were so so easy. and wriothesley loved how dumb he could make his pretty little baby.

wriothesley x sub!fem!reader. nsfw content. pwp. office sex. finger sucking. nipple sucking. thigh fucking. p -> v. unprotected sex. over stimulation. wittle bit of cockwarmin'. infantilization. inspired by a nsfw audio that 'm a little obsessed wit rn. wc :: 2k

"hey baby" wriothesley turns in his chair the moment he hears you opening the door to his office, moving his whole body to face you. you stood at the doorway of his office, not making the move to step inside. you were waiting for his permission. "you can come in, baby girl. you know i don't bite"

you stepped inside his office, closing the door behind you. you walked over to him, standing between his knees as he sat down in his chair. "what are you up to ?" he asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, tip of his chin resting on your stomach as he looked up at you.

"i was just studyin'.. wanted ta take a break" you answered

wriothesley nodded, "yeah ? what were you studying ?"

"math. takin' a calc class this semester"

"ohhh, such a big girl class. you sure you're little baby brain can handle all those numbers ?" he cooed at you, his fingers hooked into the waistband of your skirt, tugging you so you were sitting on his lap, legs straddling his thighs "i like this outfit. it's pretty. i think you're pretty"

you looked at him, eyes sparkly from his compliment. "think 'm pretty ?"

wriothesley nodded "pretty like a little bunny" he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "got such a cute little face, don't you baby. i could just take a big old bite outta these cheeks, couldn't i. could eat you alive, yes i could"

it really didn't take wriothesley long to realize that a little bit of baby talking to you was all it really took to get you in the mood for him. you were easy like that. he loved that about you.

"come 'ere, precious" he put his hand on the back of your head, guiding your face closer to his until his lips pressed against yours. it wasn't a very sweet kiss, more hungry and messy than anything, but you ate it up. you took anything and everything wriothesley could ever give you. and you took it all without any complaints. "you're so good for me. such a good little girl, aren't you ?"

he looked down at where you sat on his lap, fingers wrapping tightly around your hips, your body was tense waiting to be able to move. "go on" he nodded. he knew what you wanted to do. you were just waiting for his permission.

you didn't hesitate to begin grinding yourself against his lap. feeling the rough hem of his pants rubbing against your drippy cunt though the thin fabric of your underwear was nearly everything you'd been daydreaming about the entire time you were trying to study.

you whined as wriothesley pressed his thumb against your bottom lip. "open" he said, pulling your lip down, and slipping his thumb past your lips and teeth. "there we go baby, suck on my thumb"

your lips wrapped around his thumb, eyes fluttering shut as you sucked on his finger, gagging a bit as he pressed it down onto your tongue.

"oh, that's a good girl. a good little girl" he praised "bet you wanna suck on my cock too, huh ? you love suckin' on my cock don't you. makes you feel so good suckin' on it, doesn't it ? makes you feel so at ease, huh ?"

you nodded, eyes still shut as you sucked on his finger, grinding down on his clothed lap "let's get this top off, yeah?" he said, pulling his finger from your mouth, lips slipping off with a pretty wet 'pop' moving down to pull your top over your head, undoing your bra in the process, leaving your top half bare.

"god, look at these perfect fucking tits" he leaned down, lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking and flicking the nipple with the tip of his tongue, nibbling gently at the the perky and hard nipple. his hand was busy groping and squeezing your other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingertips. "you like that, baby girl ? you like it when i play with your tits ? hmm ?"

all you could do was nod, eyes shut tight as you whined from the stimulation on the sensitive skin. "y-yes... mmmhh l-like it s'much"

wriothesley's hand moved down, palming his hard cock through his pants, grinding his teeth at the discomfort of it straining hard against his clothes. he pulled away from your breast, he looked at you chin resting against the mounds of your breasts "you wanna take it out for me, pretty girl ?"

your eyes opened, hands eagerly moving down to his pants undoing his belt. you pulled his pants and underwear down, hand slipping into his boxers to pull his thick cock from it's confines. wriothesley groaned at the feeling of release.

you looked at him impatiently waiting for his next order. hooking his arms under your thighs, he pulled you up onto his desk. his hand went to the center of your chest, pushing you back.

he pressed your legs together, sliding his cock in between the fat of your thighs. "gonna fuck your thighs. is that okay baby girl ? is it okay if i fuck my sweet girl's pretty thighs ?"

he wasn't really asking for permission, but you nodded anyway, waiting patiently for him to do as he pleased. feeling his cock moving back and forth, rubbing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh made your body jolt, a chill running through your whole body. the fat head of his dick hitting your puffy clit through your panties, the fabric of which was now soaked, the thin lacy white fabric now almost completely see-through.

wriothesley leaned down, his chest pressed firm against your, low grunts and moans spilling right into your ear as he fucked himself between your thighs, hands holding your legs together keeping you as tight as possible around his cock. "does my little girl like that ? hmm ? she likes it when my cock hits her pretty clit ? likes it when i fuck her tighs, huh ?" he spoke in the baby voice again, the voice that sounded like a mix of a sweet and gentle coo and a mocking, degrading insult. either way, it nearly made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"oh, baby's too dumb to answer. too stupid to think about anything but my cock. that's okay. it's okay, little baby. ohhh, it's okay. so dumb and desperate for my big cock, yeah ? you want me to fuck your pretty little cunny instead of your thighs ?"

that got your attention, snapping out of the near trance like state you were in, nodding eagerly "yes. oh, oh yes please. yes please. please, please"

"yeah ? 'm surprised my dumb baby remembered her manners. remembered to say please, what a good girl" his fingers hooked into the lacey waistband of your underwear, pulling the down and tossing them under his desk.

he leaned down, leaving a trail of kisses starting from your waist, making his way up your stomach, across your chest and neck, before his lips pressed against yours. "wanna fuck you so bad baby" he whispered into your mouth "i wanna fuck my sweet little girl so bad"

his hands moved over your stomach, palms rubbing up and down, fingers curling around your sides. "god i love this stomach. so fuckin' perfect. you're so perfect. so so pretty."

he lined the head of his cock with the entrance to your dripping cunt. in one quick thrust, he pushed himself in, bottoming out in one movement.

"oh— wrio !!" your hands shot out to grab onto his arm, nails leaving little crescent indents in his skin.

"sorry baby" he whispered. he gave you just a moment to catch your breath, it didn't take too long before you adjusted to his size. you had taken him so many times before.

wriothesley's hands found leverage in your hips grabbing them tight enough to leave finger shaped bruises on your delicate skin as he began thrusting in and out. pulling out almost all the way before slamming back into you.

the sound of your cunny squelching around him with every thrust went straight to his head, giving him a feeling that felt close to being high. brain foggy, the only coherent thoughts he could have were the ones of fucking his cum into your cunt.

"wrio— w-wrio !!" you squealed, cunt fluttering and tightening around his cock. "'m gonna !! gonna.."

"i know baby, i know. just hold it. can you hold it back for me baby girl" he whispered, head dropping to your shoulder for support. your cunny was just so good. "just hold on for me, m'kay"

you nodded, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace with your heavy breathing.

"tell me how— fuck — tell me how good it feels baby" wriothesley groaned into your ear "tell me how good it feel when i fuck your little cunt"

"so good !! 's sooooo good !" your legs flailed behind his back, kicking and swinging in the air "love it soooo much !! o-oh please !! please, please need ta cum !! please, pretty please"

wriothesley smiled, lips pressed against the shell of your ear "go ahead baby girl. so good askin' for permission. begging me like the good little girl you are. go on n' cum around me. let me feel you"

his words of encouragement, and more importantly his approval, was all you needed to push you over the edge. orgasm hitting you almost violently, legs kicking uncontrollably in the air, back arching as your eyes rolled so far back they were almost completely white. your mouth hung open, in a silent stream of pleasure that caught in your throat.

he didn't stop though. he slowed down for just a moment, just barely long enough to ride through the peak of your high, before returning to the hard, fast pace he had set before.

"o-oh no !! n-no 'm sensitive !" you whimpered, palms pressed against his chest. though they made no effort to actually push him away.

"i know, i know you are baby. oh, you sweet little pussy always gets so sensitive. i know" he whispered, cooing softly into your ear. "but you can keep going. i know you can. done it before yeah ? milk my cock, baby girl. come on, milk it and get all the cummies you deserve, princess"

you nodded, eyes shut tight to distract you from the growing over stimulation of his cock pounding into you over and over again.

wriothesley let out a low growl from the back of his throat "shit baby. shit, gonna cum. gonna fill this sweet little cunt with all my cum" he groaned "you want that don't you ? wanna be full of my cummies ?"

you nodded, ankles hooking together behind his back, pulling him closer to you.

"say it. tell me you want it. use your big girl words."

"wanna be full" you whined "wanna be full of your cum. wanna be sooo full !"

wriothesley's hips stuttered in their movements, shoving his cock as deep inside of you as it could go, hips pressed flush against yours as he came. thick, warm load covering your gummy walls. "oh fuck. fuck fuck, fuck" he moaned, head droppig down again "fuck !! baby you're so good ! so fucking good for me. can feel you — feel you milkin' my cock. god, baby girl."

he waited until he caught his breath, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back in his lap sitting in his desk chair, cock still buried in your cunt. he leaned his head back, resting it on the back of his chair. "you were so good. baby girl makin' me feel so good all the time"

he lifted his head, hand guiding your head to rest on his shoulder. he pulled you off his cock, not bothering to wipe up the mixture of fluids that immediately began leaking from your cunny, and rocked you gently back and forth.

he pressed his lips against your temple, mumbling quietly into the side of your head.

"love you so much, baby. you're such a perfect little princess for me"

SNOWBOUND BABY / TOKREV X READER.

@thvkei; cute lil things our boys do during winter ⟡ part one.

ft. takemichi, mikey, and draken x gn!reader

genre. fluff, headcanons

notes. this post is sfw, but this account contains nsfw content. please do not follow if you're a minor.

✰ TAKEMICHI.

as hard as he tries to be the stoic, protective boyfriend, something about the way the snow spills fluidly from the abundance of clouds above his head makes his heart retreat to his childhood days.

he loves winter, but hates the cold. you find it funny how he humors himself by building snow castles and other childish matters, yet complains when the icy burn of frost bites at the tips of his fingers.

CONSTANTLY gets caught underneath the mistletoe. he finds it so embarrassing but he loves kissing you so he can't complain.

gingerbread-house-decorating-competition in which his literally falls apart in front of your eyes and you hysterically watch him try and piece it back together.

no matter how long you've been dating, he still gets flustered when you take his cheeks between your palms, soothing the redness that consumes them due to the biting cold.

takes you to see a christmas play but it turns out to be for kids. you both get bored and end up running out, giggling whilst plotting to meet up with his friends and get tipsy on eggnog and mulled wine.

big fan of hot chocolate, but is absolute ass at making them. how someone can be bad at making at hot drink, you aren't sure. however, after his first and only attempt, you ultimately decide that you'll be in charge of making them from now on.

leaves buying christmas presents until last minute bc he thinks he can handle it... wrong L bozo. 💀

panics on christmas eve and embarrassedly calls you in the middle of a clothes store asking what your size is.

ends up buying you a pair of matching pjs, they're super cute 'n fluffy <3

tries so hard to wrap your presents but he literally can't figure out how to make it look neat for the life of him 😭. skill issue tbh.

running up to him before he can slip out for work in the morning, wrapping his scarf around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek while he quietly recognizes how lucky he is to have you in his life.

ice skating date where takemichi falls so many times you swear he will be littered in bruises the following day, which you were right about.

flu season. he believes he's immune, (he's not), and always ends up sick.

taking a hot shower together to warm up :))

BLANKET HOGGER‼️ steals the blankets from you when you're asleep, so you have to literally have to fight him for them. falls off the bed.

✰ MIKEY.

literally a winter fiend.

unbothered by the cold but always faces the consequences, which is lowkey annoying cuz he always catches a cold 'n then you have to babysit his ass back to full health.

steals all your coats, hoodies and jackets even though he has his own.

when you question him on it, he either lies about stealing, (even when he's LITERALLY wearing it), or deflects your accusing tone with a compliment.

"you know, the snow really brings out the color of your eyes. they're s'pretty, y/n. ♡."

"mikey 😐."

if you're stupid enough to even TRY and wear a scarf in his vicinity, you better run cuz he will grab that shit 'n force you to share.

forces you to make him hot coco (with whipped cream 'n marshmallows ofc)

he loves decorating the tree, will put you on his shoulders to place the star at the top ˊᗜˋ

intently watches you wrap presents. sticking your tongue out, fiddling with the tape 'n trying to hold it all together. he thinks it's so cute and endearing, he can't bring himself to help when you look so adorable.

gets concerningly pale?? i mean, he's already pale, but when he's cold, he gets like even whiter LMAO some1 help him

loves making snow angels

takes you on his bike to see the christmas lights!!

starts snowball fights out of fucking nowhere. you swear he almost gave you a concussion once but he denies it ever happening smh. 🤥

trying to do a christmas movie marathon but tbh good luck bc this man can't focus for more than 5 minutes.

as well as being a blanket hogger, in winter, mikey and the concept of personal space become complete strangers. bro will cling to you like you're tryin' to go somewhere when actually you're just trying to sleep.

✰ DRAKEN.

one of the best winter boyfriends omg!!

constantly warm. it's like hugging a fucking radiator, but in a good way :D

the feeling of waking up next to him in winter is unmatched. your head lies on his chest, and his bicep holds your waist against him with the perfect strength. soft snores pass through his open lips, blonde locks strewn across the pillow.

late night trips to the convenience store bc u want snacks!!

constantly shoving an extra layer of clothes on you, just to be safe.

personally isn't a fan of the cold, but bares it for you.

you force him to go ice skating with you, but all it takes is one fall and he's stomping off the rink cussing out the ice whilst you cling to him, drowning in your own giggles.

strokes you hair as you watch christmas classics, feeling his chest vibrate with gentle laughter as he cradles you against him.

laughing at him because he's wearing mittens LMAO

surprise attacking him with a wrestle in the snow, only to end up pinned beneath him panting and tapping out because his bodyweight is crushing you.

would take a lot of convincing, but would wear a onesie if it really made you happy.

going on a cut-your-own-christmas-tree-farm date and my god does he make a fine lumberjack.

even though you’d been extra cautious, you still got sick. but don't worry, ken takes care of you.

that is after he's lectured you on wearing warmer clothes even though you literally wear at least two hoodies every time you walk outside.

gets pissed when you shove snow in his hood and doesn't notice until he pulls it over his head. 💀

making cookies together but somehow coming out with triple how many you were acc supposed to make so your kitchen was practically overflowing with the damn things.

going on a date to see the fireworks. draken stares at you with love and true adoration in his eyes as you gawk at the pretty streams of light, lips forming an 'o' as you admire the way they shoot through the sky. he's never been happier.

please do not repost or steal my work ─ i don't allow translations or resposts on any other platforms.

𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓼𝓾𝓷 ꒱ྀིა . ｡˓ ❤︎ ˖ ݁ al haitham x f!reader . sfw . established relationship ﾉ fluff + suggestive ﾉ reader is smaller than haitham ﾉ kaveh!! ૮꒰ིྀ˶꜆´˘`꜀˶꒱ིྀა 

"someone's up rather early."

al haitham's kitchen is teeming with light when he walks in on saturday morning: the pots hanging from the ceiling catching the sunshine from the open window (ting! ting!), the blue flame on the gas burner that billows out along the bottom of the stone pan that rests atop it, and you.

the warmest, softest light of them all, standing there by the stove in your—his—shirt, silk strings of an apron cinched into a messy bow at your waist as you busy yourself with frothing the masala chai, turn to face your lover when his voice reaches your ears and welcome him with a cheery, "g'mornie! breakfast's gonna be ready soon."

darling angel, little sunspot in the corner of his mind.

he hums sleepily, making his way behind you and draping his broad frame over your smaller one, strong arms curled around your waist and tenderly squeezing your ribs, chin propped on your head before he leans down to nuzzle his nose into your hair—sweet and sun-warmed.

you don't need to tilt your head up to know al haitham is keeping a watchful eye as you split even volumes of the chai into three mugs, stir a tablespoon of sugar into two of them. spread ghee over the hot stone pan and wait for it to sizzle before you pour on a ladle full of dosa batter.

had it been a few months prior, you would've felt nerves from tip to toe, afraid of his silent judgement—yet here you stand now, blooming like a rose under his gaze.

it's one that's caring, tender, when he gently reminds you to watch your fingers as you're cutting an onion and to flip over the dosa so it doesn't burn.

"dosa and chai for breakfast? you spoil me."

you open your mouth to reply, but the words leave your throat as a garbled mess of stutters and little hums when al haitham surprises you with lazy kisses fluttered over your cheek, and then your jaw, trailing southbound of your neck to your décolletage.

"haitham, stoppp!" you burst into a lovely little peal of giggles when he nips at your skin—playfully, hungrily—pushing your rear back into him and shrugging your shoulders in a failed attempt to get him off you. "what if kaveh sees?"

"then he sees."

his voice is low and nonchalant, but he only holds onto you tighter, protectively, digging his arms further into your ribs as if to remind you that he's already made his home there, that he's staked his claim.

"if the sight of me loving on you drives him out of the house faster, then i may just have to do it more often."

"you meanie." you quip back and stick your tongue out at him as you transfer the crisp dosa onto a plate, reaching for the bowl of batter to make another.

a squeak escapes you before you can do so, because your lover is tilting your chin up with his finger and finally giving you a kiss where it should be given, sucking and licking at your lips, wiping a bubbled bead of his saliva off the corner with his thumb.

it's rare for your haitham to get like this—outwardly clingy with his touch, but you know him well enough to understand why he's displaying such behaviour.

"you're not still jealous from last night, are you?"

ah, yes.

last night.

celebrations at lambad's tavern after al haitham's successful demotion from acting grand sage to mere scribe—celebrations in the manner of a feast of delicacies, followed by innumerable rounds of genius invokation tcg, and concluded with pints upon pints of beer; one for the master (al haitham), one for the dame (you), and one too many for the roommate who swilled them without restraint (kaveh).

and what a sight to behold was the kshahrewar architect—your bestest friend—at the end of the night.

blonde braid mussed and his clips somehow finding their way into your hair, hiccuping and sniffling and pockets emptied beyond belief, trailing at your feet like a puppy and slathering you with sweet words and blubbering drunkenly on your shoulder:

you're so pretty, you're so kind, i really don't understand why you'd entertain a romance from someone of the likes of al haitham... i can assure you, if he doesn't get down on one knee soon, then somebody else definitely will!!

"me, jealous of kaveh? what a joke." your haitham scoffs, burying his face in your hair to hide the irritated pout on his face.

"that sounds an awful lot like something someone who is jealous would say."

"'m not jealous."

"i don't think i believe—a-ah!"

you're cut off all of a sudden—him growling into your temple and tugging you back firmly into his chest, arms unraveling from your waist to weave his fingers between your own, drawing your attention away from breakfast as he lays his love heavy on you with heated kisses to the shell of your ear, nipping and tugging and seemingly overcome with some form of carnal desire.

"i'm—" your knees wobble and knock together when he licks at a particularly sensitive spot, caging you against the kitchen countertop and leaving physical manifestations of his love over the fragile skin of your neck.

and then it becomes awfully hot in al haitham's kitchen on saturday morning, despite the stovetop now turned off and chai no longer steaming, the sun hiding behind a cloud and covering his eyes, allowing you and your lover the privacy you deserve.

"need t'a make breakfast—i-i'm busy, haitham..."

he hums in dismissal of your protests, mindlessly thumbing at your ring finger before he bunches your shirt up past your hips, lowers himself onto a knee and kisses up the back of your thigh—touches once possessive, greedy, now softening and sweetening into something more reverent and devoted.

"as am i."