#boy x reader

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

Roman: Despite his well-earned fuckboy reputation, once Roman trusts you he’s really into aftercare. More receiving than giving, admittedly. He loves it when you wrap yourself around him, though he’ll roll his eyes and tell you to stop being so goddamn clingy. But if you do try to pull away he’ll hold you tighter, nuzzling his face into your neck.

Eric: Eric is all about the aftercare. He likes to get pretty rough during sex, often leaving you with tears in your eyes and red welts on your body from the tight grip of his fingers against your flesh, but he soothes every single mark with his tongue and his lips, mumbling how good you are, how pretty you look, how much he loves you.

Marquis: The Marquis doesn’t really have time for aftercare. He loves being inside you, and he’ll murmur words of adoration to you whilst he’s fucking your pussy or your mouth, but when he’s done he’ll dress hastily and excuse himself. He’ll send two dozen roses with a note written by someone else, but your bed will remain cold in the aftermath.

Boy: Boy doesn’t really know how to take care of you or be taken care of, but he’s an enthusiastic learner. He adores it when you pet his hair and trace the defined muscles of his abs. The only problem is it usually gets him hard and leads to round two, or three, or four.

Eddie: Eddie is lazy after a good fuck. He’ll pet your hair a little if you drape yourself over his chest and demand it, but his eyes will flutter closed after just a few seconds and he’ll be asleep before you realize. You roll your eyes and get up to clean off, but your face softens at how sweet he looks when he’s sleeping. 

Mickey: Mickey can be a little bit neurotic about his performance. He likes to talk about it after, even though you’d rather lie in comfortable silence or take a nap. He wants to know what you liked and what you didn’t, so he can do better next time. It’s a bit annoying, but also kinda cute.

Henry: Henry might prefer aftercare to actual sex at this point. He loves holding you, loves how clingy and soft you are after you come. Henry loves nothing more than snuggling in bed with you completely naked, running his fingers up and down your spine and pressing soft kisses to your damp hair.

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

Roman: Roman’s favourite body part is his cock, obviously, and he’s not afraid to show it off. Any time he’s even half-hard he’ll press himself against your ass or grab your hand to rub against his bulge, a confident smirk on his face as he asks you what you’re gunna do about it. On you he loves almost everything, but he’s obsessed with your neck. Whenever you wear your hair up he can’t stop kissing the light protrusion of your jugular, and nothing sends him over the edge like pressing his fingers against your throat until you gasp.

Eric: Eric doesn’t really like his body, but if he had to pick maybe his arms? Only because of how they look wrapped around you, making you seem small and safe in his hold. He loves to cradle you against his chest, loves the contrast of your softness against his muscled physique. His favourite thing about you is your mouth. He’s fucking obsessed with it, with watching the way your lips move when you talk, and about how pretty you look with those lips stretched around his cock, drool coating your chin as you take every punishing inch.

Marquis: The Marquis likes his shoulders. They’re broad and strong and cut an imposing shape under his suits, which is necessary in his line of work. He also likes how much broader he is compared to you, likes to wrap his arms possessively around you from behind and whisper into your ear. His favourite part of you is your ass. It’s vulgar to say so, but he can’t get enough of the way it looks in the expensive dresses he buys you, or how good your ass cheeks feel rippling under his hand as he spanks you.

Boy: Boy doesn’t think about his body much. It’s useful to him, it doesn’t fail under pressure and it moves quickly when he needs it to. He’s littered with battle scars and finds them ugly, but he likes the contrast of his skin against yours. There’s nothing about you he doesn’t like, but if he had to choose he’d probably say your thighs are his favourite thing. He loves to feel their soft quivering around his face when he eats you out, and he loves the way you tighten around his hips as he fucks you.

Eddie: Shit, Eddie thinks it’s weird to think about his own body, but you asked so he’ll try. His cock is an obvious choice, maybe too obvious. He likes the defined V of muscle either side of his abdomen, likes to watch it flex as you ride him. As for you, he can’t get enough of your hips. He grips them tightly when he fucks you, fascinated with how much wider and rounder they are than his own.

Mickey: He’s pretty proud of his beard, even though you tease him about it not growing in all that thick. Mickey loves your hands. You’re great at picking locks and there’s nothing sexier to him than watching you work with the tiny picking kit. Not to mention your fingers look phenomenal wrapped around his cock, too.

Henry: Henry has body image issues but he’s slowly learning to like himself with you. You pepper his scarred skin with kisses and whisper about how perfect he is, and he melts for you. There isn’t much about you he doesn’t like, but if he had to pick something he liked best it would have to be your eyes. He gets lost in them, finds he can’t quite remember how to breathe when he’s drowning in your eyes, and he wishes he could paint them. But every time he tries he can’t get the colour right, can’t replicate the light in them.

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

Roman: Roman is a possessive motherfucker, and seeing you covered in his cum is akin to a religious experience. He isn’t gentle about it and he never asks permission. Right before he cums he’ll just pull out of you and aim wherever he feels like it. You’ve chewed him out a million times for cumming in your hair or ruining your panties, but he just doesn’t give a shit.

Eric: Ever since you made it official and exclusive, Eric stopped wearing condoms and now he’s obsessed with cumming inside you. He’ll lift your ass up and spread your thighs over his lap so he can watch his semen drop out of your hole only for him to fuck it back into you with his fingers or his tongue. Shit, it’s enough to get him hard again.

Marquis: The Marquis adores cumming on you when you’re fully dressed. Not to say he doesn’t like to spurt across your bare tits or the curve of your ass but seeing his cum stain the expensive fabric of your tailored outfits sends him feral. He’ll buy you a new closet full of couture every single week as long as you let him ruin a couple of dresses.

Boy: The fact that he produces that at all has been a relatively new thing for Boy, and he still isn’t sure what to do with it. You assure him that you love it when he finishes in your mouth, and he does like to watch your throat bob as you swallow his cum.

Eddie: Eddie’s already a daddy and he isn’t super stoked on doing it again whilst his life is still such a mess, so his pull-out game is immaculate. He loves to cum on your back or your ass, watching it drip down between your cheeks. He’ll even get you a towel to clean up after, like a gentleman.

Mickey: Mickey will cum literally anywhere you’ll let him. He especially likes finishing in your hand, likes the way his cum drips over your fingers and the nasty way you’ll keep pumping his length after he’s blown a load, jerking him through it until he has to forcibly pull his cock out of your fist.

Henry: Henry apologizes every time he paints your mouth with his cum, but he secretly adores it. He wishes you’d let him take a picture of how pretty your lips look dripping with him, though he’s too shy to actually ever ask.

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

Roman: Roman doesn’t really have any secrets, but he’s plenty dirty. He’s obsessed with blood of course, and will often bring a bag of donor blood into the bedroom to splash across your naked body. He’s desperate to see what it would be like to bite you but he’s too terrified that he won’t be able to stop.

Eric: He’s stolen three pairs of your underwear so far and he has no intention of stopping. He’d die if you found out, but it’s a compulsion at this point. He keeps them tucked into his pillowcase so he can pull them out when he’s alone and press them to his face. One day you’ll notice that you’re running out of underwear, but Eric literally can’t stop himself from stealing them.

Marquis: Despite being one of the most feared men in the world, the Marquis secretly loves to be degraded. It takes a lot for him to trust you, but once he’s sure you care about him enough to keep his secret, he drops to his knees and begs you to berate him. He whimpers as he kisses your feet and apologizes for being such a slut, such a worthless little whore, but his cock is hard and leaking against his stomach.

Boy: Boy has a mommy kink. I know, I know. He’ll never express this to you in any way of course, but when you call him a ‘good boy’ it makes him so impossibly hard he can’t think straight, and if you ever referred to yourself as mommy during sex he’d cum immediately.

Eddie: It’s not really dirty but it makes Eddie panic to think about admitting how much he loves you. How much he wants more with you. He’s not ready to settle down, but every time he’s with you he wonders if he will be sooner than you think.

Mickey: Mickey would really, really like you to be more dominant with him. Sure, you peg him sometimes, but it’s not quite far enough. He’d like you to pin him down and take him, make him feel small and weak and used. He doesn’t have the words to tell you this is something he wants, and he probably never will, but it’s something he thinks about sometimes anyway.

Henry: Henry really likes it when you’re mean to him. It’s not like you’re mean mean, but when you tease him about his blushing or tell him he’s being needy his cock throbs. He wishes you’d be a little bit meaner actually, but he’ll never, ever tell you that.

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

Roman: Roman ‘fuckboy’ Godfrey absolutely knows what he’s doing. He’s not shy about showing off, either. He’ll have you bent in half, eyes rolling back with your third orgasm of the night with a smug smirk on his face like unravelling you is easy.

Eric: Eric might look like a fuckboy, but he’s actually only had a couple of relationships and he’s not interested in casual hookups. But he knows what he’s doing, because he reads every minute twitch and sound you make, cataloguing them away for future use.

Marquis: the Marquis doesn’t actually have much experience, but he fucks with the easy confidence of someone who is naturally good at everything he tries. He’s powerful, strong and domineering, and that just makes for good sex regardless.

Boy: No experience outside of you, but he has stamina and enthusiasm in spades.

Eddie: Eddie has been around the block a few times. He’s fucked people you know, you’ve heard the stories. None of that really bothers you because when he’s with you he’s yours and he really does care about your pleasure.

Mickey: Mickey hasn’t been with loads of people, but he’s got enough experience to know what he wants in the bedroom and he’s not afraid to take it.

Henry: Outside of you Henry has no experience whatsoever, and he’s more than happy to let you take the lead and show him what to do. He’s a quick learner though, once you show him exactly how you like to be touched he hits those buttons every damn time.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Roman: Roman likes it when you’re on top. He likes to watch your tits bounce, and he likes how you fuck yourself on his cock like you’re desperate for it. He sinks his fingers into your hips to help you move, thrusting up into you until he hits your cervix and you let out the prettiest whimpers.

Eric: Eric likes missionary the best, because he wants to press every inch of himself against you. He loves making out with you as he fucks you deep and slow, grazing his tongue against yours as the head of his cock grazes your g-spot. The pace is maddening, but he won’t speed up until he has you begging.

Marquis: It’s all about the visual with Vincent. He likes to lay you on the table, spread you open so he can devour you with his eyes before he even touches you. It takes some getting used to but once you come to expect the scrutiny you learn to lean into it, to push your chest out and lift your hips in a way that makes him melt for you.

Boy: Boy’s still pretty unsure of himself, so he loves it when you’re on top because you take control of the pace. Plus he can watch your mouth to read the praises you give him as they spill from your lips.

Eddie: Spooning is how Eddie gets you most of the time when he slips into bed well past midnight smelling like strawberry vape and motor oil. He wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles your hair to see if you’re awake, and as long as you don’t push him away he’ll start to nudge his stiffening cock against your ass until you sigh and part your thighs for him.

Mickey: Mickey really likes all positions, but there’s something he really loves about doggy-style. He likes to watch your ass bounce as you push back to fuck yourself on his cock, and he likes to wrap your hair around his fist and tug your head back so he can see your pretty eyes go all glassy.

Henry: Henry has so little experience that any position seems like the best thing in the world, but he’s happy as long as he can see your face. He loves to watch the way your lips part on moans and how your eyes flutter closed when his cock grazes your insides. He doesn’t mind if it’s missionary or if you’re on top, as long as he can watch you.

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

Roman: Roman can be a cocky little shit in and out of the bedroom, but you’re used to it and can give as good as you get. He’s not goofy exactly, but he’ll tease you and he’ll be sarcastic and a little mean to rile you up before he gets you off.

Eric: Eric can be super serious and dominant, but he turns into a little kitten after he cums, all cuddles and breathless laughter against your neck like he just can’t believe he got so damn lucky.

Marquis: The marquis does not joke around. In or out of the bedroom, really. He’s a serious guy with serious business.

Boy: Boy is unintentionally funny all the time, and he’s no different during sex. He can’t control his facial expressions, so when you do something he likes or something that he finds weird, his face shows it in a hugely comical way.

Eddie: Eddie cracks jokes all the way through and it’s distracting as shit. He can’t really help it though, if he didn’t he might accidentally tell you he’s in love with you or some shit.

Mickey: Mickey loves to make you laugh whilst he’s inside of you. Your walls contract around him when you do, and it’s fucking intense. So he’ll joke, he’ll pull faces, he’ll do weird accents. Whatever it takes to have you shaking with laughter around his cock.

Henry: Henry is too nervous to be goofy. He stutters and he can’t always look you in the eye, at least until you’ve got him whimpering and leaking underneath you. Then he’ll meet your eyes, but only to beg and plead and tell you how good everything is.

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

Roman: Roman will kill you if you ever tell anyone, but he gets waxed. Full body, every couple of weeks. It borders on a fetish for him actually, he loves the clinical setting and the sharp sting of pain as the pretty beautician rips the hair out of his balls. Plus being bare makes his cock look bigger.

Eric: Eric has a dark trail of hair leading from his belly button to his cock, and he keeps the rest trimmed down.

Marquis: Immaculately groomed everywhere, no doubt about it. The Marquis cares a great deal about his appearance, and he’s not above manscaping to keep everything in order. The carpet matches the drapes, but it’s neat and shaped.

Boy: Unlike the sun-bleached hair on his head, Boy’s cock stands out from a dark patch of hair running from his belly button to his pubic bone. He doesn’t know he’s supposed to groom the hair there, and you don’t much care anyway when there’s so many hard, sweaty muscles to trace with your tongue.

Eddie: Eddie is surprisingly well groomed for someone who looks so… scruffy most of the time. He cares about his body and he works out, so naturally he keeps things tight and trimmed down there too. His hair is artificially blonde though, so the carpet does not match the drapes.

Mickey: Mickey isn’t bothered about grooming, but he doesn’t grow a huge amount of hair down there anyway. He’d trim it back if you asked him to but so far you haven’t, so why would he bother?

Henry: Henry’s pubic hair is dark and thick like the hair on his head, but he’s meticulously clean so you don’t care. It’s actually sort of nice to rub your nose against the rough patch of hair as you take his cock into your throat.

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

Roman: Mostly Roman just wants to fuck you. But there are times when he’s feeling a little more open, a little more vulnerable even, when he’ll hold you closer, kiss you longer, whisper things into your ear that he never really says out loud. You keep coming back because of those times.

Eric: Eric is insufferably romantic. He holds you like you’re oxygen, wrapping his tall frame around you and cradling you against him as he fucks you deep and slow. He likes to press his forehead against yours, brush his lips over every inch of your face like he’s memorising you with his mouth. It’s suffocating in the best way.

Marquis: The marquis struggles with the concept of romantic intimacy. For him, sex is about release and passion and power. But he’s romantic afterwards, sending flowers and taking you to fancy restaurants.

Boy: Boy literally doesn’t have the words to explain how he feels about you, but he shows you during sex with intense eye contact. He worships your body, kissing every inch of you and running his hands over you over and over again like he can’t get close enough.

Eddie: Eddie is the king of telling you what you want to hear. Sometimes that means hatefucking when you’re mad at him, but other times it means telling you how hot you look, how good you feel around his cock. He’s not one to spill his guts over a good fuck though, so he never says anything real. Maybe one day.

Mickey: Mickey actually loves you, so sex can be pretty sweet. He’s not a sappy guy by nature, but he’s overcome with his feelings when you’re fucking him or sucking his cock, and he’ll kiss you like he’s drowning.

Henry: Christ, Henry is the poster-boy for romance. He whispers words of love against your mouth as he grinds into you slowly, his hands stroking your hair back or pressing against your heart so he can feel how fast it’s beating for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Roman: Roman doesn’t feel the need to jerk off all that often, but sometimes he can’t be bothered to deal with all the talking and shit that comes with seeing you, so he’ll run himself a hot shower and cum against the tiles for easy cleanup.

Eric: Eric is super horny at night, after you’ve gone to sleep. Most of the time he can hold off until you wake up, but if he’s really pent up he’ll roll onto his side and jerk off in silence, eyes flicking up to your sleeping face every few seconds. He feels a little guilty about this, but he won’t be able to sleep until he’s done.

Marquis: The Marquis has no need of such things. If he wants release, he’ll call you.

Boy: This is a nightly ritual for Boy, whenever he’s not with you. He sleeps under the stars, back straight against the hard ground, and he imagines the softness of you and your bedsheets as he wraps his hand around his cock. He’s quick and quiet, not wishing to be discovered, and he grits his teeth hard as he pumps himself roughly.

Eddie: Eddie only really jerks off to get to sleep on the nights you’re too pissed to let him come over. Those are the nights he has to sleep in his van and it’s cold as shit in there, so he jerks off with grainy pictures of you on his phone and shivers himself into unconsciousness sitting upright.

Mickey: Mickey uses jerking off like foreplay. He’ll just start doing it, palming himself over his jeans before dipping his fingers into his boxers and teasing himself right on the couch out in the open because he knows you won’t be able to resist taking over.

Henry: Often, and always thinking about you. He’s not into porn, so Henry just thinks about you, about how you look on top of him or about the softness of your voice when you moan his name as he cums into his own fist under the duvet.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Roman: Blood, blood, and more blood. Roman loves to cover you in blood, loves to drag his nails through it and mark your skin. It’s not your favourite thing in the world, but the ravenous hunger in his eyes as he watches his gore-covered cock push in and out of you makes it worth doing every now and then.

Eric: Eric has a breeding kink and he has it bad for you. He’s not really ready to be a father or anything but he can’t help himself from filling you with his load and watching it drip out of your hole. There have been a few times where you’ve let him do it over and over until you’re absolutely full to bursting, and he’ll never get over it.

Marquis: The Marquis is into dacryphilia. On the nights he calls for you, you wear cheap mascara because he likes how it tracks down your cheeks and stains his sheets as you sob into the pillow. He’s rough, he’s almost mean with it, needing to see you fall apart. But you’ll endure it all for the affirmation you’ll receive afterwards.  

Boy: Boy is desperate to fuck you in public. He’s just so damn proud to have you he wants everyone to know you belong to him. But the moment you step outside the sanctuary of your house he freezes up and goes into protection mode, so it’s never happened.

Eddie: Maybe it’s not such a kink, but Eddie really loves phone sex. Sometimes he’ll stay out late on purpose so he can call you way past bedtime and hear your thick, sleepy voice. He loves to coax you out of unconsciousness and tease you until you're whimpering his name over the line.

Mickey: Mickey has a praise kink, and it’s bad. Getting him on his knees takes little more than a ‘good boy’ and a gentle push and he’s folding for you, begging you to tell him all the things you want him to do.

Henry: Henry likes to be tied up. You hadn’t expected that from him, and had discovered it by accident when you’d pinned his hands above his head and demanded his attention when he’d been sketching for hours. His pupils dilated and his cock stiffened against your core, and you’d pressed his wrists harder against the mattress.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Roman: Roman has a king-size bed with silk black sheets and he likes to wrap those sheets around your body as he fucks you. He’ll do you anywhere you like, really, but there’s no place like home and there’s no pussy like yours. Plus he has restraints built into the headboard and a drawer full of toys right there so it’s super fucking convenient, too.

Eric: There’s a little spot on the rooftop of Eric’s apartment building that nobody knows about but him. He goes there to smoke and to look at the stars, and the first time he takes you up there and sees the wind ruffle through your hair and the shine of the stars in your eyes, he can’t stop himself from pushing you down and fucking you right there. It’s somehow both public and completely private, and he takes you up there any time the sky is clear.

Marquis: The Marquis has fucked you in almost every room of his chateau, which is an impressive feat considering the size of the place. But his favourite place ever is the grand dining room. All his most treasured works of art reside in that room, and the sight of you laid bare against the polished mahogany of his table gets him so hard he can’t think straight. Plus there’s the secret added bonus of knowing he’s fucked you here or there, right where his guests are eating dinner.

Boy: Boy doesn’t have a place of his own, but he loves your bed. The sheets are soft and they smell like you, and laying your body down against your mattress and rutting his hips against that softness makes him feel like a fucking king.

Eddie: In a really nice car, obviously. He loves nothing more than to push his seat back and have you climb into his lap. Sometimes he’ll reach around to grip the steering wheel as you ride him, and the creak of the leather and the steam on the windows has him filling you up so fast it’s almost embarrassing.

Mickey: Being with Mickey means motels and truck stop bathrooms most of the time, because he never settles in one place for long. But there’s this one place, a B&B with a boutiquey feel upstate that he’s taken you to a couple of times. If he had to pick a place that’s his favourite it would be there, because it’s cute and classy and belongs just to the two of you.

Henry: Henry is a wallflower by nature, but outside of the bedroom he loves fucking you in the lake where he swims at night. There’s just something about the cold water pressing in and the heat of your pussy around his cock that is so goddamn perfect. And on a clear night when the moon is high, you glow like an angel.

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

Roman: Roman gets hard when he’s pissed off. It’s easy to get him there, too. He hates when you act like a brat and he can’t help but bend you over the nearest surface and shove his cock in your pussy or your mouth, anything to shut you up and remind you who’s in charge.

Eric: Eric is a sucker for a damsel in distress. Doesn’t have to be anything major, but if he can help you, fix something for you, it turns him on. Sometimes you pretend like you can’t open jars so he’ll open them for you, and you can kiss him on the cheek and thank him for being so strong, and he’ll bite his lip as his cock thickens. You’ve bought IKEA flatpacks you don’t need so you can watch him put them together, always rewarding him with your mouth when he’s finished.

Marquis: It’s all about clothes. He’ll sometimes make you put on a little fashion show for him, and Vincent will sit in his big chair at his big desk and watch you parade around in outfits that cost more than most people make in a year. He’ll palm himself through his suit trousers all the while, edging himself until he can’t take it anymore and he’ll have to peel the fancy fabric from you layer by layer and impale you on his cock.

Boy: Boy has an oral fixation like nothing else. He watches your mouth when you talk, partly because he has to in order to understand you, but also because your tongue will slip out to wet your lips and your teeth will flash when you catch him staring and he just has to push his fingers into your mouth and drag the rough pads against your tongue until you hollow your cheeks around them. This almost always ends in him forcing his cock down your throat, not that you mind.

Eddie: It’s the fucking cars again. Eddie hasn’t got the cash to buy one, but he sure likes to take you to sales lots and watch you run your fingers over the paintwork on an expensive jag, or lean over the hood of a Porsche so your tits go flat against the metal. He’ll adjust himself over and over as he follows you around, imprinting the sight for later.

Mickey: Mickey isn’t a violent guy by nature, but there’s something about seeing you with a gun that gets him very fucking hot. Always unloaded, safety on, but he likes to watch you run your hands over the barrel. If you really want to fuck him up you’ll tease the tip over your lips, cocking your head at him and telling him to get on his knees. He’ll fold, whining and desperate, and he’ll bury his face against your pussy as you press the gun to his temple.

Henry: It’s the seemingly little things for Henry Pearl. Watching your fingers fiddle with the edge of the page of the book you’re reading, or the way you tap your rings against your coffee cup when you’re sitting with him in the diner. He fixates on these minute gestures, can’t look away as his cock hardens and his breath quickens and all he can think about is what your hand would look like wrapped around him instead.

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

Roman: Roman won’t let you piss on him. You’re not into that either by the way, but he made a fuckin point of telling you it’s a hard no right from the start. He’d piss on you if you asked him to though.

Eric: Eric can’t humiliate you in the bedroom. He’s tried, actually, but it just doesn’t work for him. He hates to see you cry and saying anything mean to you just makes him feel like an asshole.

Marquis: The Marquis won’t do public sex. He’s too much of a target, and publicity in any form would be bad news for his reputation and your safety. He’ll tease you a little in public, graze his fingers over your ass at a gala or allow you to palm him on the way home in the car, but that’s the extent of it.

Boy: Boy won’t let you anywhere near his ass. He loves you, and he wants to make you happy, but that’s a big ol fuck no thank you.

Eddie: He won’t do age play (not that you’ve asked for it). He’s got a kid, y’know? It’d be too weird.

Mickey: Consensual non-consent. He just doesn’t have it in him. The moment you start to struggle against him, his cock goes soft.

Henry: Henry won’t hit you. You’ve asked him, tried to very gently persuade him that you like to be slapped or bitten or choked, but he just can’t do it. He’s tried, but his hands go slack and his cock softens and he just whispers about how sorry he is until all trace of your arousal has vanished. It’s a little disappointing, but he’s an angel and you get over it.

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

Roman: Roman is skilled with his tongue, but he’s really only interested in showing you those skills when he’s pissed you off or if you’re on your period. But he fucking loves getting head from you. Anytime, anywhere. He’ll push you to your knees in public bathrooms if you’ve been teasing him, he just doesn’t give a shit.

Eric: Eric loves to go down on you. He can lose himself for hours between your thighs, tongue laving over your clit whilst his long, inked fingers curl inside you. He’ll go until you beg him to stop, or until you can convince him that fucking you would be even better than feeling you come on his mouth.

Marquis: The Marquis demands blow jobs on a regular basis. He’d never force you, but you know it’s an expected part of being his lover and you don’t mind doing it. He’s considerate, too, has a little pillow under his desk for your knees. He’ll summon you at random points through the day and click his fingers at you, pointing to the floor, and you’re expected to kneel between his legs and let him cum down your throat every single time. When he does go down on you, it’s insane. Vincent eats your pussy like you’re the finest cream pastry in the world, delving his tongue deep and lapping at you until you’re slick and shaking. You wish he’d do it more often, but then, it’s not in his nature to be so messy.

Boy: Despite the lack of a tongue, Boy is an enthusiastic muncher and he does it pretty much any time you’ll let him between your legs. He loves the taste of you, loves to mash his nose against your clit as he sucks every drop of your arousal into his mouth. Your pussy is so soft and warm and he can’t get enough of the way your thighs crush against his head.

Eddie: Eddie fucks up a lot, and he finds apologizing with his tongue buried in your pussy is a sure-fire way to get off the hook. He’s talented with it too, the gift of the grift translating perfectly into an ability to get you to come in minutes. He’ll kiss your oversensitive clit and smirk up at you through slick lips. “All better, baby?”

Mickey: Mickey loves to go down on you, but his slutty little moustache creates almost unbearable friction against your clit. He knows this and rubs his face against you just to hear you squeal. He’s not against receiving either, obviously, and he’s perfected the art of carrying on with whatever he’s doing (driving, reading, talking to his friends on the fuckin phone even) whilst you choke on his cock.

Henry: Henry finds receiving blowjobs humiliating, but he’s completely addicted. He can’t control his hips as the fuck up against your face, and he’ll press his fists against his mouth and his eyes as if he can stop himself from whimpering (but he absolutely cannot). You love sucking his cock because he’s so vocal and he blushes all over. He’s soft and hesitant when he goes down on you, so unsure of his own abilities. You really have to talk him through it every time.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Roman: Roman is almost always rough when he’s in charge. He doesn’t even really mean to be, he just… is. He likes the way his balls snap against you as he fucks you, and when you’re coated in blood and bitemarks he can’t really stop the aggression from coming out.

Eric: Eric likes to switch it up. Sometimes he’s feeling aggressive and possessive, and then he’ll fuck you mercilessly, pounding you into the mattress until you’re shaking. But other times he’s overcome with how much he loves you, and he’ll take things painfully slow, rolling his hips into you as he looks into your eyes.

Marquis: The Marquis is somehow rough and sensual. He captivates you with his powerful presence and his intense stare, completely mesmerising you, but his pace is often aggressive and rough. You always leave his bed with a stomach full of feelings even though bruises litter your skin from his rough handling.

Boy: Boy fucks like an animal most of the time. He’s just so into you, and into the feeling of being inside you. He’s too strong to be all that gentle, and often you find yourself holding on for dear life as he fucks you so hard you’re sure he’s going to break your bed (or your spine).

Eddie: Eddie mostly fucks like he’s running out of time or late for something (which he often is). Even when he takes his time, he’s quick about it, too eager to show you what he can do.

Mickey: Mickey switches it up. He likes to go slow and tease you a little sometimes, when he’s bratty and in the mood to have you beg for it. But he likes to go fast too, fingers digging into your hips as he slams into you from behind, dragging your body back onto his cock over and over.

Henry: Henry is just a Loverboy. He doesn’t like to rush it, though sometimes he gets too excited and his pace quickens because he just can’t help himself.

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

Roman: Roman loves a quickie. All of the release without the fucking foreplay? Yes please. He’s thrilled every time you drop your head over his lap in the car or pull him into a bathroom at a boring function. 

Eric: Eric doesn’t mind doing some things quick. He’s fingered you in a crowded club, whispering heat into your ear as he grinds his hard cock against your ass. But he isn’t interested in quick sex. He likes to feel connected to you, and knocking one out without foreplay would feel hollow.

Marquis: The Marquis is so busy that half the time a quickie is all he can offer you. If he has twenty minutes here or there he’s not going to waste them seducing you properly when he can simply point to his cock and demand you take care of it.

Boy: Boy doesn’t get as much time with you as he’d like, so sometimes a quickie is all you can manage. He doesn’t mind them, but he always wishes he’d had a chance to go down on you when it’s over too fast.

Eddie: Loves a quickie. He’d take quickies any day of the week. You’re not usually so spontaneous, but he’s so, so into it when you are.

Mickey: Mickey is down for a quickie every now and then. If you’ve been on the road a while and pull into a rest stop, sometimes you’ll climb into his lap and just impale yourself on his cock, no prep at all. It’s hot to see you a little uncomfortable, makes him feel like he’s got a massive cock, and you ride him fast and dirty and… yeah, he likes that a lot.

Henry: Nope. Henry just doesn’t have it in him. You’ve tried, climbing into his lap and giving him the barest peck on the lips before reaching for his cock, and he froze. He needs the buildup, needs to be warmed up with gentle touches and kisses.

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

Roman: As is so often the case with spoilt rich boys, Roman is game for anything, consequences be damned. You want him to bend you over the glass railing on a rooftop and slip his cock into you? Sure thing, baby. What’s the worst that can happen?

Eric: Eric will take some risks, like the previously mentioned club fingering, but nothing that might put you in any real danger.

Marquis: No, not really. The Marquis knows what he wants, and what he doesn’t want. He’s not open to experimenting much, and certainly not in ways that might be considered a risk. Not in his line of work.

Boy: Boy is risk adverse by nature, having trained to see danger everywhere. He won’t put you in danger, but he’s happy to go along with some experiments within reason if it makes you happy.

Eddie: Sure, why the fuck not? When you suggested he fuck you in the back of the fancy car he was borrowing from a really powerful dude, he didn’t say no even though his heart was pounding in his throat at the thought of being caught.

Mickey: Mickey’s a goddamn criminal, his whole life is about taking risks. His priority is taking care of you, always, but he’s not against fucking you on a pile of stolen money in a motel twenty miles away from the bank you just robbed. Actually you look very fucking sexy sprawled out on a pile of stolen money.

Henry: Almost everything is an experiment to Henry, but he’s not big on taking risks. He’s too worried about the consequences, mostly for you. People already think he’s a freak, but if the two of you were caught somewhere doing something compromising he’d hate for you to be judged.

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

Roman: Despite his confidence, Roman doesn’t actually last all that long. He’s respectable, and he makes sure you finish on his fingers or his tongue at least once before he pushes his cock into you, but once things get going he can usually only last five minutes or so. Give him a cigarette break and a make out session and he’ll be ready to go again in under half an hour though.

Eric: Eric doesn’t last as long as he’d like, not with you. His cock is thick and long, and you can’t take it all in your mouth, so he can last a pretty long time when you’re giving him head. But when he buries himself in your pussy, it’s all over. He can go again pretty quick after finishing though, as long as he can get his mouth on you first to get worked up.

Marquis: The marquis can last as long as he wants, most of the time. Unless it’s one of the occasions where you’re degrading him, then he’ll cum quick and graceless, often without ever getting to fuck you at all. But usually he’s in control and he keeps himself on the edge for as long as he likes, or until he has to take a phone call.

Boy: Since his sexual awakening, Boy can just go and go. You’re always the one to call it after hours of fucking, when your legs burn from the strain and your pussy is sore from overuse. He never forces you to carry on, but you’ll usually finish him off with your hand or your mouth.

Eddie: Eddie doesn’t last long at all. By the time he crawls into bed with you he’s usually too tired to do much more than push his cock into you from behind and rut his hips against you. You always feel so good and tight at that angle, and the sleepy thickness of your voice and the heat of your skin has him busting quicker than he’d like.

Mickey: If he’s high, he can go endlessly. You’re usually the one to tap out first, or if he’s got your ass in the air sometimes you’ll take a little power nap during. He doesn’t always notice, and you usually wake up in time to come.  

Henry: Henry, god bless him, is just so sensitive. You can barely get him inside you before his face is tensing up as he tries so, so hard not to cum, but you just feel too good around him. You’re considering teaching him how to edge himself so he can train to last longer, but there’s something pretty hot about a guy being so into you that he can’t control it, anyway.

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

Roman: Roman loves toys. He has an extensive collection that he uses on you, when the mood is right. He can tie you to the bed and tease you for hours with feathery whips and vibrators and a little device that sends zaps of electricity against your skin. He has a secret box of other toys, slim plugs and vibrators for himself, that he’s let you use on his ass a couple of times, but it’s not his favourite thing.

Eric: Eric isn’t really interested in toys for himself, but he’s got a wicked vibrator he uses on you whilst he fucks you missionary sometimes. He’ll rest the wand against the base of his cock, turning himself into a vibrator as he fucks you, before pressing it to your clit until your eyes roll back.

Marquis: For a man with so much power, the Marquis really likes it when you take it away from him. He has a chastity cage that you’ll secure onto his cock sometimes, and you’ll watch him get more and more agitated as you tease him in public, watching the pain twist on his face as he tries to get hard against the confines of the cage. He doesn’t use toys on you, his cock and his fingers and his mouth are all you need, and he doesn’t share, not even with silicone.

Boy: Boy doesn’t really get toys, and he isn’t interested in using them. He loves to touch you in any way you’ll let him, loves to get his fingers inside you or his mouth on your pussy, and he can’t see how any object could replace that feeling.

Eddie: Eddie is pretty vanilla about toys. He has a cock ring he’ll slip on when he really wants to go all night, but other than that he’d prefer to just fuck you properly.

Mickey: Mickey lets you peg him and he isn’t shy about it at all. He loves it when you play with his ass, whether it’s your fingers or one of the many anal toys you have. You weren’t the one to introduce him to the idea, and he takes it all like a pro.

Henry: Henry’s too shy to suggest anything like it, but you have a silky blindfold and a pair of handcuffs that he lets you use on him sometimes. There’s something freeing about being deprived of his senses.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Roman: Roman is an entitled little brat and he loves to make you suffer. When he’s feeling in a particularly devious mood he’ll pin you down and edge you with his fingers for hours, bringing you to the brink of orgasm only to pull away and smirk at you as you wriggle underneath him. He usually won’t stop until you’re sobbing, and even then there’s a chance he’ll fuck you until he’s done and still not let you cum.

Eric: Eric loves to unravel you, but he’s careful about safe words. He checks in with you regularly to make sure you’re still enjoying it and he’s more than okay with bringing the game to an end and giving you what you need.

Marquis: The Marquis uses teasing as training. If you’re getting a little outspoken, or god forbid dare to disobey him he’ll tie you to your bed or a chair with silk ribbons and tease you until your legs shake. One time you passed out from the overstimulation, and the Marquis just kept on going, grazing his fingers over your g-spot. You regained consciousness as an orgasm finally washed over you, so strong and almost painful. That was after a weekend trip you’d taken with a friend the Marquis didn’t approve of. You never went on a trip like that again.

Boy: Boy doesn’t want to tease you too much, but he isn’t always the best at reading your cues so sometimes he does it by accident. He just loves being between your legs, and he wants it to last. So he’ll eat your pussy for hours, stopping when you jerk against his face and waiting for you to calm down so he can do it again. If that’s teasing he’s sorry, but not sorry enough to stop.

Eddie: If you asked him, Eddie would say he’s too nice to tease you. It’s not true, but that’s what he’d say. In his defence, he does always make sure you get to cum eventually. He just likes to work you up a whole lot beforehand.

Mickey: Mickey has to be in a very specific mood to tease you. After a plan has worked out, he’s feeling powerful and that’s usually when it’ll happen. He likes to make you beg for it, likes to have you whimpering underneath him and reminding him that he’s the only one who can get you off.

Henry: Henry doesn’t like to tease you. He’s literally just too nice for it, the moment you say please he’ll give you anything you want.

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

Roman: Roman likes to pretend he’s silent and unbothered, but when you really get him going he’s a moaner. He’ll try to stop himself, clamp his teeth together and spit ‘shit’ and ‘fuck’ as if he can prevent them, but he’ll always moan when he comes. Sometimes it’s your name, other times it’s just a choked groan from deep in his chest.

Eric: Total baby. He doesn’t really moan, but he whimpers when he’s close, whispering praise into your ear and begging you to tell him how much you love him.

Marquis: The Marquis isn’t much of a moaner, but he loves to talk to you when he fucks. It’s mostly commands, ‘tell me how good it feels, tell me you’re mine, you’re my little whore, aren’t you’, but sometimes he’ll get a little more vocal about how he’s feeling, and you live for those moments.

Boy: Boy doesn’t really make much sound outside of breathless little pants and whines, air hissing from between his teeth as you tease him. BUT if you edge him, like really, intensely edge him for hours, he’ll whimper so deliciously. You don’t do it to him too often because he looks so insanely pathetic when he’s all overstimulated, but it’s a rare treat you allow yourself every now and then.

Eddie: Eddie is a shameless fucking slut when he’s balls deep in you. He’ll dirty talk to start with, but it’ll dissolve into groans and moans and the occasional curse word as he loses focus and pounds into you like nothing matters as much as filling you up.

Mickey: Mickey is overwhelmed with affection when he’s about to cum. It’s really the only time he gets like that, babbling about how ‘beautiful you are, my pretty fuckin girl, so fuckin smart, so good to me Iloveyousomuch, shittt’.

Henry: Henry doesn’t say much, but he can’t stop himself from whimpering and whining and moaning. The sounds are soft, so quiet you’d miss them if you weren’t listening hard. Sometimes he’ll try to muffle his cries against a pillow or his fist, but you won’t let him. He sounds beautiful when he’s in the throes of pleasure and you make sure to let him know.

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

Roman: Sometimes he gets himself into trouble on purpose so you’ll tell him off. He acts like he’s pissed off when you chew him out for bad behaviour, but he secretly loves it. He likes the drama, the angst of fighting with you by text and then making up in person.

Eric: Eric gets pretty turned on when you’re sick. He knows he isn’t supposed to, but there’s something incredibly hot about you being all dopey and vulnerable. He likes how you need him, likes holding your through fevers and pulling your hair back whilst you puke. He’s pretty good at hiding his erection from you though.

Marquis: The Marquis has a huge thing for injuries. You fall from a horse during a routine practice and are left with nasty grazes and cuts and he personally sees to each one, cooing over you and pressing a cloth gently to each wound, but he’s leaking in his pants and he wants nothing more than to drag the head of his cock over the gashes on your knees.

Boy: Boy’s internal narration is changing. He hears your voice in his head as much as he hears his own, and he’s terrified by how much he’s come to rely on it, and on you.

Eddie: Though he’s not sure he wants to be a father again just now, Eddie dreams about getting you pregnant all the time. He’s considered messing with your birth control, that’s how fucking serious it is. He hasn’t, wouldn’t do that to you, but fuck, the thought is there.

Mickey: Mickey has a ring in the glovebox of his car. Well, okay, it’s just the ring box at the moment cuz he can’t afford a rock, but he’s working up to it. He’s going to ask you to marry him and he’s not 100% sure you’ll say yes.

Henry: Henry has an entire gallery-worth of paintings of you that he can’t show you. It had started small, just painting your mouth from memory because he liked the shape of your lips, but he’s slowly worked up to bigger, more explicit scenes and he’s terrified you’ll leave him if you find out.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Roman: He’s firm everywhere, but not exactly muscular. He isn’t interested in working out, and fucking is as good an exercise as any. Besides, with his diet of whiskey and cigarettes it’s not like he’s gunna get fat anyway.

Eric: Eric is tight with muscles and covered in tattoos. You like to trace each one with your fingertip or your tongue, and his eyes roll back as his hips roll up when you trace the GOOD BOY ink just above his pubic bone.

Marquis: He’s broad under his tailored suits, deceptively strong too. But there’s a softness to his torso, a slight curve to his belly owing to his penchant for sweet pastries. He’s got an ass on him as well, though any time you try to grab a hold of it he pushes you away.

Boy: There is not a single inch of Boy that isn’t toned to perfection. He’s all sharp edges and tanned, toned muscle. Though he’s been trained for destruction his hands are painfully gentle when he holds you, careful not to push you too hard or squeeze you too tightly. You love the raised veins on his strong hands as he pushes your thighs apart to settle between them, and the way the muscles in his stomach jump when you graze your nails over his abs.

Eddie: Eddie is absolutely more ripped than he has any right to be considering he eats nothing! You grumble about how it’s always the least deserving people who get all the pretty genes, but you can’t help but admire the view every time he strips off his hoodie and presses the planes of his torso against you.

Mickey: Mickey is kinda skinny owing to excessive drugs and gas station hotdogs in place of real meals, but he’s pretty strong. He’s long everywhere, and he wraps himself around you and pins you to his chest so he can rub the scruff of his little beard against your hair to make you laugh.

Henry: Henry is delicate. He’s actually pretty toned, broad shoulders and a sharp v-line dipping into his pants, but he’s soft and pale and breakable in a way that makes you want to pepper his skin with kisses. There’s the livid red scarring down the side of his body too, and you’re so careful when you touch him there. It doesn’t hurt physically anymore, but he winces every time your fingers brush against him and your heart aches.

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

Roman: Roman would tie you to his bed and keep you there permanently if he could. It’s not necessarily that he wants to fuck you all the time, but he’d like to know he could whenever he wanted, y’know?

Eric: Eric doesn’t think his sex drive is that high, but every single time he sees you his cock stiffens like a pavlovian response. He tries very hard to not get hard when you sit in his lap or stroke your fingers through his shaggy hair, but he fails miserably.

Marquis: Sex-drive is subjective for the Marquis. When you’re around all the time he’s not too bothered, but when you dare to go off and do your own thing, whether it’s for a few hours or a few days, he demands your attention. The moment you return to him he’ll pin you to his lap and rut up into you, reminding you that your place is with him.

Boy: Boy has spent so much of his life celibate that meeting you opened a floodgate. He wants you all the time, and he can get hard just thinking about you. His reload time is non-existent, he’s often ready for round two or three or four before you’ve even caught your breath from your last orgasm.

Eddie: Eddie’s so stressed all the time, his sex drive really isn’t so high these days. Not that he can’t get in the mood when you’re interested, he can, but he doesn’t initiate much. Being broke will do that to a guy.

Mickey: Mickey is like a lovesick teenager with you. You can get him hard with little more than a suggestive look, and he’s up for it anytime, anywhere. He’s not above begging, but most of the time he just doesn’t have to.

Henry: Henry yearns for you all the time, but it’s not really about the sex (though he likes that, obviously). He just wants to be close to you, wants your arms around him every night and your mouth on his whenever he can get it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Roman: Roman struggles with the concept of being asleep around another person, even you. It’s a vulnerable position he doesn’t like to put himself in unless he’s smoked a couple joints or you’ve edged him past his limit and he passes out.

Eric: Because it’s never just one orgasm with Eric, he’s always completely exhausted by the time he finally collapses beside you. It only takes a minute or two of you running your fingers through his hair for him to pass out, though his grip on your hips or your stomach or wherever never lets up, all night long.

Marquis: The Marquis is too busy to sleep. He’ll sometimes hold you until you drift off, but he’s never there when you wake up the next morning. He catches a few hours between meetings and international calls, though he has a camera set up in your room so he can check on you through the night.

Boy: Boy only really ever sleeps when he’s on the verge of collapse. There’s no safety in sleep, and he’s been awoken more than once by the shaman attacking him out of slumber so he’s always guarded. But it’s hard to keep his eyes open with your soft weight against his chest. He listens to the steady in and out of your breathing and his eyes flutter shut and his arms tighten around you protectively.

Eddie: Eddie is near permanently tired, so any time you let him crash at your place he’s out like a light. He’s a cuddly sleeper, which you don’t mind, but you do wish sometimes he’d stay awake long enough to actually say goodnight to you.

Mickey: Mickey is a bit of an insomniac. He knows sleep is important, and he makes damn sure you go to sleep at a reasonable hour. But once you’re out and he’s sure you’re out, he’ll slip away to scroll through his phone or play video games until well into the early hours of the morning.

Henry: Henry tries to stay awake after you fuck, because he only gets nights with you and it seems a waste of time to sleep through them. But you’re tired, your eyes have closed and your head rests like a warm weight on his chest, and he can’t stop himself following you into oblivion. You always go first though, always.

Tagging people I think might be interested:

You’re watching at the window anxiously, as you so often are these days. People pass by, shawls pulled low over their faces as they shuffle past your house on their way home before curfew. You don’t want to be caught out in the streets after dark. Nobody dares break the rules, not after a decade of cullings. That’s how he gets away with it. That’s how your Boy slips unseen through the silent city, despite being a towering hulk of a man at 6’4. You spot the shift of his brown cloak across the street, briefly illuminated by moonlight as he darts between buildings, and you push your window open and step back as he climbs through with surprising grace.

His mouth is on yours before you have a chance to say anything, lips soft but insistent as he parts yours and sucks the breath from your lungs with a low gasp. Big, scarred hands lift to cup your cheeks, covering almost your entire face with his palms as his fingers lace into your hair and tug you closer, tilting your head to the side as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth and nips lightly.

Your body reacts to him instantly, as it always does. Heat rushes through you, your clit throbbing as arousal begins to kindle and slick between your thighs. You whine lightly into his mouth, and Boy untangles the fingers on one hand to skitter down your back and grasp a handful of your ass, dragging you against his firm body.

He finally pulls away from your lips to mouth ‘missed you’, and you push your hand against the stiffening bulge in his pants. “Show me.”

Boys eyes flutter closed for a moment, his brow furrowing in pleasure as his hips buck gently into your hand and the fingers in your hair tighten ever so slightly. You press your other hand to his cheek and his eyes open. “Show me.”

Boy watches your mouth make the shape, and the hand on your ass tightens, the strong muscles in his arm flexing as he lifts you easily against his body. You squeak in surprise as your legs wrap around his waist automatically, hands dropping onto his shoulders to steady yourself as your core makes contact with his clothed cock. Boy seizes your ass in both hands now, encouraging you to grind against him as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and watches pleasure flicker over your face. Because God, you’re pretty. The prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Resplendent. Having a very bright or beautiful appearance. Boy feels his cock twitch and leak against the heat of you as you roll your hips down against him, and your fingers travel up his shoulders and graze the sides of his neck before tangling in the short, sun-bleached strands of his hair. You pull him towards you, licking against his teeth until he releases his lip so you can suck it into your own mouth and trace the meat of it with your tongue.

Boy groans. He loves your tongue, he’s maybe obsessed with it. The delicate way you use it to trace his mouth or the veins on his neck. The feeling of it flicking against the head of his cock right before you take him into your throat. Transcendent. Going beyond ordinary limits; surpassing; exceeding. That’s how Boy felt, with his cock in your mouth and you on your knees, looking up at him with a hunger so intense it rivalled the aching pit of his own desperation.

You’re looking at him like that again, and Boy is about to release your ass so you can sink to your knees and show him when your head shoots to the side, to the open window, and Boy’s spine tenses.

“Whistle.” You mouth, and Boy drops you carefully to your feet, pushing you further into the room and away from the window as he looks out into the street. Jeopardy. Hazard or risk of or exposure to loss, harm, death, or injury. The hooded figure standing in the street below is small and slight enough to be a child, but Boy knows better. Knows the deadly shift in his gait, the tap of his staff against the bare earth. He doesn’t have to hear to know.

He turns, expression tight, and you nod. “I know. Go.”

Boy crosses the room, dipping his head to press his lips to yours and hoping, as he caresses his fingers against your cheek, that you understand. That he would stay, if he could. That you mean so much to him that he’d rather die than let anything happen to you. That he’ll stay away, if it keeps you safe. “I know.” You whisper against his mouth, and Boy feels the shape of the words against his mouth and the churning of regret in his stomach gets worse.

*

The sun beats unbearably hot on your back, and you duck into the shade of a canopy as you make your way through the market, purchasing your weekly staples and a few extra things for Boy. Three weeks. You hadn’t seen your Boy in three weeks. Not so much as a glimpse of him. No cabbages at the market, and the addicts of the city were getting… twitchy. Because no cabbages meant no little wrapped packages of dreamleaf, and that was what kept the most downtrodden of the population ticking over. The true trade of the Shaman, his real legacy. You hated that your Boy was mixed up in any of it. You hated that you couldn’t convince him to just leave, but you trusted him enough to know he had his reasons to stay. But knowing didn’t stop the ache in your heart or the pit in your stomach with each passing day.

You buy a cinnamon bun wrapped in parchment paper, the buttery, golden pastry flaking delicately as you slot it into your bag. You’ll place it in the window tonight, like the scent of the sugar might summon him. It would be a small price to pay to see him again. You’re thinking about feeding him the treat, about the feeling of the scar of his tongue prodding against your fingers as he sucks cinnamon from them, when you hear laughter. A high, sharp sound, so at odds with the low hum of tension that underpins market day and your head lifts to find the source.

The girl is a bright spark against a sea of brown and grey. Her blonde hair hangs over her shoulder in soft curls, and she bats her pretty, big eyes at a man as she twirls the stem of a dried desert flower between her fingers. You see the man reach for it, his big, tanned hand with the scarred fingers curling around the flower. Her fingers brush against his as she hands it over, and your stomach drops out with a sick jolt. You’d know those fingers anywhere. They’d been all over you, brushing over your cheek and pushing into your mouth and fucking you open more times than you could count. Seeing them touch her twists ugly in your gut, and you’re stomping across the market, shoving people out of your way with heat in your blood. The smile on the girl’s face drops as you approach, and you wonder just how monstrous your face must look to make her go so pale. The man turns too, face freezing in shock as you grab for his cloak and tug hard enough to tear the threadbare fabric. “Really?” You shout, slapping his shoulder with an open palm. “Three weeks.”

The Boy’s mouth opens and closes, eyes darting around the market and heart thumping hard at how many eyes are on him. On you. You’ve already drawn the attention of a handful of Van Der Koy guards, but for now they’re watching with interest rather than suspicion. For now. Boy has to get you inside somewhere private. He reaches for you, hand grabbing your wrist where you’re still hitting him. He hadn’t actually noticed, hadn’t registered the weak slaps of your palm against his shoulder through his own panic. There are tears in your eyes, and it’s the worst thing he’s ever seen.

“Three weeks.” You repeat, your lips shaking with sobs so hard Boy isn’t completely sure he’s reading you right. “You’ve been gone for three weeks, and then.” Your shoulders sag as you glance at the flower girl, and understanding lights in Boy. His eyes widen, mouth falling open as he lifts the dried flower. ‘This?’ He mouths, and you can barely even look at it as you nod. You’re staring at the ground now, and Boy tugs on your hand until you look back at him. ‘Home.’ He mouths. You shake your head. ‘Please’. He tries again, and your tongue licks out to wet your lips as you consider it. Boy’s eyes slip past you, to the group of guards that are still watching, and you realize just how dangerous you’re being, having this fight with him out in the open. How much danger you’re putting him in. So you let him pull you out of the market, following him down a winding maze of backstreets until he’s sure it’s safe to circle around to your house. He hovers at the door, and you push past him with a shove as you open the door and let him follow you inside.

As soon as the door is closed, a little of the tension bleeds out of Boy, and he sighs. You’re home safe. It isn’t over, because you’re across the room and your eyes are narrowed at him in a glare, but you’re safe. Betrayal. The act of disappointing a person’s trust, hopes, or expectations. That’s the look on your face, and it cuts Boy to his core. Boy presses his hands together, holding them out to you in a gesture of supplication. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth for a moment before meeting his eyes. “Who is she?”

Boy frowns, shaking his head before shrugging his shoulders deliberately. I don’t know. Never seen her before.

“She smiled at you like…” you sigh, shaking your head. “Shit. I suppose I can’t blame her for it.”

Boy takes a hesitant step towards you, breaking the clasp of his hands to push his hood off. He reaches for you, and you let him cup your jaw and trace the shape of your lips with his calloused thumb as he tries to push your mouth into a smile.

It sort of works, and you pull away from him as your lips tug upwards. “Don’t.”

Boy frowns, reaching for you again, and you take a step to the side to avoid his hand. “No. I’m mad at you.”

Boy swallows hard. He knows about anger. Knows how it feels to be on the receiving end of rage. But you’re not the Shaman, thank Christ for that. You’d never hurt him. And Boy absolutely hates that he’s hurting you. He reaches into his cloak, pulling out the dried flower. Some of the petals have come loose crumpled against his shirt, and they flutter to the floor. “I don’t want that. From her.”

Boy holds the stem steady and reaches for the remaining petals, stroking them as delicately as he can manage before holding it out to you again. ‘For you’, he mouths.

You swallow as your eyes dart between the flower and his face. His pretty, sincere face. “You… got this for me?”

Boy nods sharply, eyes lighting with pleasure at your understanding. He reaches into his cloak again for his coin purse, shaking it gently.

“You bought it for me?” Your mouth opens in surprise as warmth floods your stomach. The Shaman doesn’t pay him for selling his drugs. “How?”

Boy’s hands are moving again, complicated gestures that you think might be… chores?

“You worked for other people?”

Boy nods again. He wishes he could tell you properly. It would be so much quicker, if he could use words to tell you he’d mended fences and fixed a horse cart for someone from a nearby farm, and that he was saving every penny so he could take you away from the city for good. He wishes he could tell you that he’d seen the flower, a perfect, vibrant delicacy in a sea of dust, and it had reminded him of you so strongly he’d had to buy it for you. He knows your face would soften if he could tell you that.

“And the girl was just…” You swallow, feeling an embarrassed blush creep up the sides of your neck. “Oh.”

Boy twists his mouth to the side before taking another step towards you, holding up the tattered flower again. This time you take it, pinching the dried stem between your finger and thumb and bringing it to your nose to inhale. It doesn’t smell like much, the scent of the petals has long since dried up and it smells more like your Boy, like sweat and salt and the rich earth of the forest. You inhale deeper, trapping the scent of him in your lungs. “I’m sorry.” You say, lifting your head to make sure he catches it. Boy wouldn’t have missed a single syllable, with the intensity he’s fixed on you. His hand lifts to cup your face, and you don’t pull away this time as his thumb traces the seam of your lips.

‘I’m sorry’ he mouths, eyes full of sincerity, and you part your lips to suck his thumb into your mouth, laving your tongue against the pad of it in the way you know he likes. You watch as his eyes darken, his pupils expanding, and you don’t need to look down to know he’s getting hard. You release his thumb with a wet pop. “Show me.”

His free hand slips down your side, thumb rubbing circles into the bone of your hip for a moment as he lowers slowly to his knees in front of you and looks up through his lashes. You’ve always liked him like this, he can see it in the flush of blood to your cheeks and the way your whole body seems to coil tighter. “What are you doing?” You whisper, your throat bobbing as you swallow hard against a lump of emotion.

Boy raises his eyebrows, fixing you with a look that is unmistakable. Reparation. The making of amends for wrong or injury done. He presses his lips to your clothed centre, looking up at you with electric green eyes as his hands slide up to the waistband of your pants and hover.

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth and nod, and Boy drags the fabric down your thighs with careful, deliberate reverence. The scent of you hits him and his cock twitches in his pants, and he inhales deeply against the dampness of your underwear.

You whimper, your fingers lacing gently into his hair and scratching against his scalp in a way that raises goose bumps on the back of his neck. You tug lightly, and he looks up at you to read your lips as you whisper “Please.”

He needs no further encouragement, as his nose nudges against your underwear and his thumbs hook into the elastic to pull them down your legs. They join your pants on the floor around your ankles, and Boy holds your hip to steady you as you step out. His hand reaches for your calf before you can put your foot down on the ground, and his mouth curves into a smirk as he lifts your leg over his shoulder.

You’re grateful that he can’t hear the sound you make when the sharp point of his nose makes contact with the hood of your clit. It’s a primal, guttural groan. His hands tighten on your flesh, fingers splaying across the back of your thigh as he holds you against his face and wraps his lips around the bud of your clit, sucking it into his mouth.

Boy’s lack of a fully functioning tongue doesn’t matter so much when he buries his face in your cunt like he wants to suffocate there. The thumb still coated in your saliva presses against your entrance, a barely-there weight against your quivering hole, and your fingers tighten in his hair. Boy takes this as permission, pushing his thumb into you and pressing down against the sensitive flesh of your walls as he drags your clit lightly against his teeth before sucking hard.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling, cunt clenching hard around his thumb, and Boy withdraws from your heat to push two long fingers into you instead. He curls them inside you, probing against the tight muscles for the spongy, sensitive spot that makes you clamp down on him. His mouth curves into a smile against you as he drags his lips harshly against your folds, nudging his nose against your clit over and over again as your hips begin to rock forward. You’re grinding against his face, soaking him and whimpering a steady stream of filthy things he can’t hear, and Boy wonders whether he should make you mad more often if this is how it ends. Your arousal is leaking out of you, soaking down his fingers and pooling on his palm, and Boy resists the urge to drag his hand over his mouth. He’s never wished for a tongue as badly as he does right now. To push it inside you, to feel the tight, wet heat of you in his mouth rather than just on his lips.

You pull on his hair, trying to drag his face away from you as your orgasm approaches, but Boy’s grip on the back of your thigh tightens as he nuzzles against your slick, suctioning his lips around your clit and dragging it back and forth over his bottom lip as his fingers fuck into you. You moan as your orgasm washes over you, legs shaking and arousal soaking Boy’s face as your muscles flutter erratically against his fingers. Boy keeps sucking greedily, nipping at your sensitive clit and digging his nose against you until you stop rolling your hips up against his face.

He pulls back and gathers your arousal from his chin and his cheeks, running the slick palm of his hand against his mouth to coat his lips in you before releasing your leg gently back to the ground. And he’d be happy with that, if it was all you’d give him. But your eyes drop hungrily to the bulge straining against the front of his pants and the dark spot of precum where he’s leaking, and you hook your fingers into the front of his shirt, tugging on it until he gets the message and stands up.

Your hand is on him immediately, fumbling with the waistband of his pants and tugging his cock out to squeeze heavy in your palm.

Boy moans softly, pressing his lips together as his hips push against you, seeking friction. You reach for his face with your free hand, brushing the tips of your fingers against his cheek until he opens his eyes to watch your mouth. “I want to suck your cock. Can I?”

Boy nods enthusiastically as his cock twitches its agreement in your hand, and you rub your thumb over his leaking slit before releasing him and bringing your thumb to your lips to lick the salty trace of him. You turn then, and Boy is powerless to do anything but follow you like a lost puppy deeper into the house, to the little room at the back with your soft sheets and dim lighting. You push him down onto the bed, palm firm against his shoulder until he lies back on the mattress. He cranes his neck to watch as you crawl over his body, settling between his legs and wrapping your fist around the base of his cock again.

“Lie back.” You instruct softly. “Just enjoy it.”

Boy wants to tell you that watching you take his cock into your mouth is a really big part of the enjoying it, but at the sharp lick of your tongue against his slit his head falls back anyway, eyes rolling. You suction the fat head of his cock into your mouth, letting drool drip down his length to coat him and jerking him into your mouth with a loose fist. It isn’t long at all before his hips are lifting from the bed to thrust into your mouth, and you relax your jaw to let him fuck into your throat .

Boy makes a keening sound somewhere between a sob and a whimper, and you feel fresh arousal throb in your clit at the desperate sound of it. God, you wish you could hear his voice. Wish he could tell you how good it feels.

Ecstasy. An overpowering emotion or exaltation; a state of sudden, intense feeling. Boy’s mind is blank of everything now, everything but the wet heat of your mouth and the drag of your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock and the tight squeeze of your fingers wrapped around his base. He knows he’s taking too much, can feel the way your throat spasms around him as you try not to gag, but he can’t stop unless you stop him. And you’re not stopping him, bobbing your head and pumping him into your mouth and encouraging him with the vibration of your moans against his length.

Boy’s hands fly to your head, tugging on your hair as a warning, and you tap his thigh in acknowledgement, the silent language of touch the two of you have crafter over the months of your secret relationship. But you don’t pull off, sucking harder and taking him impossibly deeper into your throat, and Boy cums with a startled, rough cry as his hips snap against your face and he spurts his load down your throat. You swallow around him, breathing through your nose as best you can with your face pressed harshly to his cock, still pumping his length into your mouth to milk every last drop of his release from him.

When his fingers loosen in your hair and his hips drop to the mattress, you withdraw slowly, licking over his sensitive skin and pressing your lips to the swollen tip of his cock before releasing him completely and rising to your knees to drink in the sight of him. Boy is boneless, his enormous, muscular body melting against the sheets as his breath leaves him in harsh pants. The sheets either side of his thighs are rumpled and damp from how he’s twisted them in his fingers, and you can see the pulse of his blood thrumming under the tanned skin over his throat. He’s a fucked-out wreck and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

You crawl over his body, your soft chest pressing to his hard one as you press your lips to his. His arms lift to wrap around your waist, pinning you to him as his lips coax yours open, silently begging for your tongue. You lick against the inside of his mouth, and he lets loose a low moan at the taste of himself on your tongue.

It’s at that moment his stomach gurgles, announcing its emptiness, and Boy feels a blush heat his cheeks as you pull away from the kiss to tilt your head to the side, listening. Boy knows it makes a sound, though he can’t quite remember it. Your lips curl into a soft smile. “Wait here.”

Boy huffs as you wriggle out of his arms, shuffling into a seated position against your headboard and tucking his soft cock back into his pants. You pout as you return to the bed and see he’s covered up, and Boy rolls his eyes at you before fixing his gaze on the greasy paper bag in your hand. ‘For me?’ He mouths, pointing at it and then his chest.

You grin, climbing onto the bed and ripping the paper open to present the pastry to him. The scent of butter and sugar and cinnamon hits him, and Boy swallows hard. His lips part as your fingers shred a piece off the bun, lifting it to his mouth. He pulls the sweetness into his mouth, dragging the pastry to the back of his mouth to dissolve against the stub of his tongue, and his eyes roll back at the taste.

You sit cross legged in front of him and balance the open bag on your knee, shredding the bun into bite-sized pieces with your fingers as you watch his face contort in pleasure. And you’re not like… jealous of the pastry or anything, considering he’d looked just as blissed out when he was eating you, but you still press your lips to his between every bite, just because you can.

He’s watching your lips move as the last piece of pastry sticks to the roof of his mouth. He’s forgotten, momentarily, how to swallow as your words form the words. “I love you, you know?”

He can only stare at you dumbly as the words sink into his skin and wrap around his heart until it hurts. You love him. You love him back.

“You don’t have to say it. Or, you know, whatever.” You mumble. Boy squints at your mouth, not completely sure of what you’re saying.

Adoration. Fervent and devoted love. He cups your jaw in both hands and brings your face close to his, nuzzling his nose against yours before pulling back and mouthing ‘I love you, too’.