HI PRETTYYYY a question for the prince and princess!! Do they miss having the theater open?
XOXO, Anonymous-C
Omg pretty????? Lil ol me??? Stap 🤭💕
And to answer ur question, it's kinda complicated....
One one hand they miss the happy moments on stage, hearing people reactions to their act and hearing how their talent brought comfort to those who needed it
But the other....
Not everyday was it easy for them....specially on the youngest
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love deeply your depiction of fem azul and I have come to offer that oh my godd….she would be such a god awful toxic homoerotic female friendship she’s locking you into an ultra competitive ed relationship I just know it…..I’m a huge fan of azul but when you make her into a venomously insecure character wannabe mean girl…..😩 - can I be 🍒 anon pls ?
tw. yandere. fem azul.
you are so terribly right. azul's dream remains one of the better parts of book seven for me, because i adore twst telling us rather directly that azul YEARNS for that extremely primitive social affirmation. not the kind of reputation you have to earn, as she has. no, what she wants is effortless, natural adoration. to be charming without trying, to speak without thinking—without having to think. or care, for that matter.
that's the privilege you get when you are loveable: a wonderful lack of consequences to your actions. most people do not look back. bullies can afford not to, victims are forced not to. the former escape unscathed, the latter pretend to have escaped unscathed.
thus, most bullies do not get the taste of their medicine, let off the hook and left revengeless by their victims. eager to forget, eager to move on.
not her—she's stuck looking back, letting the tether to her past act as an anchor for her future. no getting carried away by the stream and no leaving. she may not be perfect yet, but she'll be, she'll be.
you are the tether.
lumped together through the process of elimination, you grew to fit each other. a unit. partners in studies, partners in sports. partners outside of school, you doodling idly while she works, nimble limbs crawling over the many pages of the many manuscripts.
she's sure she would have gone insane, if not for you. the isolation would have gotten to her. it's only because she had you to cling to that the path into the future was bearable: she knew she'd make it out, because she had you.
you, who has been there from the start. you, who cannot be taken away.
imagine her horror when you try to leave. right as she's become interesting, too. right as she's getting everything she wants.
you do not like the new azul, stealing voices and sealing off fates. you do not like the painful urgency with which she is trying to shed her skin, pretending to let go of the past even as it's embedded in her bones. you realize that you've been holding on to your friendship for far too long, listening to her equally demeaning and adoring whispers with far too much trust.
you want the comfort of normalcy—and you find it. you get a girlfriend. dating, as it turns out, isn't the same humiliation ritual that your school years used to be. you have your quirks, but, contrary to what you were told, you are not unloveable. you aren't simple, plain, boring, unattractive.
you are, actually, completely fine.
you think you might separate amicably. what does she need you for, when neither of you is stuck in her little cave anymore? you have outgrown the pot holding you captive, the both of you emerging changed and ready to face the struggles of life on your own, even if you don't quite agree on the methods. you have to cut the tether off, for good.
you are mistaken. obviously.
she needs you—she needs you terribly. because you've seen her as she was before, because you know the truth she isn't willing to reveal to anyone else, you are everything. her one true friend. her pillar. her pillow to throw around and scream at, to wrap around and cry in.
she cannot lose you. that you would think otherwise is, of course, one of your many flaws: so simple, so plain, so boring in your moralism.
no matter. it's not like you can leave without her permission. do not get too attached to your little girlfriend—it was stupid of you to go through with getting one in the first place. what happens next isn't her fault. there are consequences to your actions, and, as you should know by now, she isn't a forgiving kind.
Aventurinee's Guardiann, I have something for youu (maybe a little ooc but I hope that can be forgiven!)
I know I said I'd wait with this ask buut I'm in a bit of a gloomy mood tonight so I wanna ramble a bit about being affectionate towards Aventurine
I don't know if I already said this but I'm so glad you believe he's touch-starved cause that makes the beginning of a relationship with him & then once he finally lets himself be loved in that way so much better.
I'm imagining a first date setting, or a night out. Of course it's expensive & luxurious which Aventurine rambles on about at some point. He mentions how popular this place is, how long it takes to get reservations & how most don't even get to experience this.
Just as he's about to keep talking about how lucky he actually was to have gotten tickets or smth for him + reader, they just lean in, kissing his cheek oh so tenderly & quietly thank him for the night, specifically mentioning it's him that made it so great. Though… Aventurine was probably not hearing any of that.
I imagine he's frozen, his touch starved system about to overheat from this action. Oh but reader makes it even worse by putting their hand on his, trying to bring him back to earth.
Next thing to happen is Aventurine going in for an actual kiss, to take his chance while he has it, to get the situation back under control & make reader forget about him losing his cool for a minute there.
Although he likes to go all in, I think in that moment he wouldn't. Like the kiss would be short, but sweet, enough to leave want & make your head dizzy, but not enough to overstep anything.
When he breaks the kiss, he tries to ask if that was okay, but he can't finish his sentence because reader's going in for another kiss, arms going around his neck & lips moving against his with a bit more passion & want, need even.
I just know his thoughts must be going crazy during & after this, especially after they broke apart once more & he could see how reader's lips got swollen from the kissing, & later at night when he's lying in bed, trying to sleep but that scene is looping in his head nonstop. He can't focus on anything but the way that felt & he wants that again.
I think once reader & him enter a relationship or become more comfortable with kissing, he will just steal a kiss anytime he can. Like he'll be near the reader, with that signature grin & then go in for it, certainly with the intent to catch them off guard with a particularly teasing action or smth.
Though I don't think he'd always just go for quick kisses or the ones that really surprise the reader, once he gets comfortable, maybe not as Aventurine but Kakavasha, he'd seek out those slow, careful & sweet kisses too.
I'm sure it'd take a bitttt until Aventurine feels genuinely comfortable just taking physical affection whithout having to pay it back in anyway, but I'm still gonna ramble on about it xd
So besides kisses, I've also been thinking of playing with his hair (because howww does it look so goddamn soft ingame??) & generally touching it, like when you hold him or smth.
Speaking about that, man I genuinely just want to hug & hold him forever. Just the image of him trusting & feeling comfortable enough to let such a situation happen, seek it out & just let himself soak up the love & affection?? Enough to make my heart ache man.
Even better though would be cuddles in bed (yes I'm just as touch starved most likely), Aventurine's head by reader's chest, their hand combing through his hair while their arm's slung around him.
I wish I could go into more details but idk I'm just not able to 😭
Last thing I'll ramble on about buut I'm not too sure about is complimenting him. I love referring to my fav male characters as "pretty boy"s, though I'm not actually sure if Aventurine would like that, or generally compliments. I'm not entirely sure how he feels towards his visual image & how easily he can take earnest compliments (especially from his partner after they get to know what else there is besides the confident gambler), so I can't really go into a full blown scenario like above </3
Something else I can imagine though, is complimenting not his looks, but him. Based on the way the quest log text was like during the last mission you play as him, yeaa Aventurine definitely needs some incredibly heartfelt words 🥹
I wonder what it'd do to him if he was being held, reader's hand on his cheek, caressing his skin with their thumb, with the most loving gaze & whispering to him how incredible he is, not just for the reasons he might think + more affectionate words & then going in for a featherlight kiss on his forehead, as well as the rest of his face.
Happy Holidays, Lily :)
Spoiler: I've got 3 Ray asks I should be able to send soon. I think I mentioned I'd also wait with that but I reread on one of your replies that my asks make you smile so maybe that's a bit nicer than me waiting until you've got time again to answer to stuff ❤️
🍒 Anon
Lessons in Affection (Aventurine x Reader snippets)
A/N: Hi again Cherry. :) As I mentioned in my other reply, I loved reading your thoughts. So. Instead of just replying to them and basically agreeing with everything you said, I wrote some snippets. :) Based on your wonderful thoughts about affection-starved Aventurine…I hope you‘ll enjoy. :)
The restaurant is exactly what you expected from Aventurine—expensive, exclusive, dripping with luxury. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light across white tablecloths, and you’re fairly certain the silverware costs more than most people’s rent.
“—nearly impossible to get reservations here,” Aventurine is saying, that familiar grin playing at his lips. “Months-long waitlist. Most people never even get through the door.”
He leans back in his chair, gesturing elegantly with one hand. “Lucky for us, I happened to know someone who—”
You lean across the table and kiss his cheek. Soft. Tender. Lingering just long enough for him to register what happened.
“Thank you for tonight,” you murmur, pulling back just slightly. “You made it wonderful.”
Aventurine has gone completely still. His eyes are wide, lips parted slightly, and you can see the exact moment his brain stops processing.
“Aventurine?” You reach out, placing your hand over his on the table.
That touch seems to reboot something. He blinks once, twice, and then he moves.
Fast, decisive, like he’s calling a bluff he can’t afford to lose. His hand comes up to cup your jaw as he leans in, and then his lips are on yours.
The kiss is short. Controlled. Just enough to leave you wanting more, to make your head spin, but careful. So careful not to overstep, not to assume, not to take more than he’s been given.
When he pulls back, his eyes search yours with something vulnerable flickering behind the usual confidence.
“Was that—” he starts, voice rougher than usual. “Is that okay? I didn’t mean to—”
You don’t let him finish.
Your arms wind around his neck as you kiss him again, properly this time.
His sharp intake of breath is swallowed by your mouth, and for a moment he’s rigid with surprise before he melts into it, one hand sliding to the small of your back, the other still cradling your face.
When you finally break apart, both of you breathing harder, you catch the way his eyes drop to your mouth. Your lips feel swollen, tender, and from the way he’s staring. Pupils blown wide, that careful mask cracked completely.
“I…” Aventurine swallows hard. “We should probably finish dinner.”
But his thumb is tracing your jawline like he can’t quite make himself stop touching you.
Later that night, Aventurine lies in bed staring at the ceiling.
He should be sleeping. He has an early meeting. There are deals to consider, plans to finalize, risks to calculate.
Instead, all he can think about is the way you kissed him.
The softness of it. The wanting in it.
The way you came back for more. The way your lips looked afterward. Kiss-swollen and beautiful and his fault.
He rolls onto his side, then his back again, restless.
He wants that again.
He wants that so badly it aches.
━━━━━━━━━━━
II. Safe Enough to Stay
It takes time.
Weeks, maybe months of slowly built trust before Aventurine lets himself have this: your bed, your arms, your gentle hands in his hair.
He’d made it here through his usual methods. Deflection, flirtation, that rakish grin that usually gets him whatever he wants. But this? This quiet, domestic intimacy? This is different.
This is terrifying.
“Come here,” you murmur, and he does.
Slowly. Carefully. Like he’s still not quite sure he’s allowed.
But he settles against you. His head coming to rest on your chest, your heartbeat steady beneath his ear. Your arm comes around him, secure and warm, and your other hand slides into his hair.
Aventurine goes very, very still.
“This okay?” you ask softly.
He nods against your chest. Doesn’t trust his voice.
Your fingers begin to move. Gentle, soothing strokes through the soft strands of his hair. It’s even softer than it looks, and you take your time with it. Combing through slowly.
You feel the exact moment Aventurine starts to relax.
It happens in increments: the tension bleeding from his shoulders first, then his spine, then finally the careful control he keeps over his breathing. He exhales long and slow, and it sounds almost like relief.
“You can stay,” you whisper. “As long as you want. I’m not going anywhere.”
His hand curls into your shirt, just slightly. Holding on.
And for once—maybe for the first time in longer than he can remember—Aventurine lets himself soak it in. The warmth. The safety. The feeling of being held not because he earned it or bought it or won it, but simply because someone wants to hold him.
“This is nice,” he murmurs eventually, voice muffled against you.
You press a kiss to the top of his head. “Yeah. It is.”
His arms tighten around you, and he burrows a little closer.
I could get used to this, he thinks but doesn’t say.
(He’s terrified of how much he wants to.)
━━━━━━━━━━━
III. The Compliments Aventurine Can’t Accept (Yet)
“You know you’re incredible, right?”
Aventurine laughs. That practiced, effortless sound that means he’s deflecting. “Well, I do try. Though I’d settle for ‘devastatingly handsome’ if incredible feels like overselling—”
“I’m not talking about how you look.”
That stops him short.
You’re holding him, one hand cupped against his cheek, thumb stroking gently across his skin. The touch is so tender it makes something in his chest ache.
“I mean you,” you continue quietly. “The person you are. How clever you are, how brave. Yes, brave, don’t give me that look. How you’ve survived everything the universe threw at you and you’re still here. Still trying. Still caring even when you pretend you don’t.”
“I don’t—” He’s deflecting again, instinctive. “You’re giving me far too much credit. I’m just good at playing the odds.”
“Aventurine.” Your voice is soft but firm. “When are you going to let yourself believe that you matter? Not because of what you can do or what you’re worth to the IPC or how lucky you are. Just you. Kakavasha.”
His breath catches at the name.
You lean in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his forehead. Then another to his temple. His cheekbone. The corner of his jaw.
“You are incredible,” you whisper between kisses. “You are so much more than you think you are. And I’m not going to stop saying it until you believe me.”
He’s trembling slightly in your arms, and you realize with a pang that he doesn’t know what to do with this. With gentleness aimed at the parts of himself he keeps hidden. With affection that doesn’t want anything in return.
“I…” His voice cracks. “I don’t know how to—I’m not good at this. Accepting this.”
“I know.” You kiss his forehead again. “But I’m patient. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch like a man starved for it.
(Because he is.)
“Say it again,” Aventurine whispers finally, so quiet you almost miss it.
“You’re incredible.”
His arms tighten around you, face hidden against your shoulder.
And though he can’t quite bring himself to believe it yet, can’t quite silence the voices that tell him his worth is conditional, that this is too good to last, that he doesn’t deserve softness, he wants to.
For the first time in a long time, Aventurine wants to believe he’s worth keeping.
And maybe that’s enough for now.
⋆ ✦ ⋆
A/N: Thank you for sharing these thoughts, Cherry. I hope my snippets were worth the wait. Sorry about that. :) Your asks always make me smile, and I hope this captures even a fraction of what you were imagining. I loved exploring these moments with you. :) I miss Aventurine a lot...
Please keep sending your wonderful thoughts whenever they strike. I treasure them. :)
Hey if you’re still taking requests can I perhaps interest you in Banana with acts of service as a love language. Points at that one video where he dyed Breads bed for him without saying anything abt it. Whilst dodging three mobs. And also like all of the everything else banana does for the channel and for bread. I hate him a lot.
But yea uh something like banana making bread dinner or just random little favors.. he complains about bread being too lazy to do it himself and yet insists on doing it. Bread gets the princess treatment and bullied at the same time, Banana’s great at multitasking!! /silly
I need to write something like this myself but also writing is hard so I’m throwing it at you in hopes that gives it a bigger chance of happening. They can pry acts of service banana out of my cold dead hands <3
I am always taking requests!! Maybe I should make a pinned post... it may not happen for a bit but I will write most things
I am so into acts of service Banana because that's literally just him, the fic im working on now has a lot of that but do not frett I will make one that's more focused on it! Literally him making the banana bread during the qna and Bread just standing there is so.....
Building him 2 maps, doing redstone for him, getting him tools and armor, dying his bed, saving him from mobs, dropping a water for him no questions asked. And the way he wanted to melt that butter so bad.
had an thought and just had to ask your ideas on it.
what would the inhuman!vessels think or do if they accidentally found reader's writing left out on the open? it could be stories, poetry, essays, a full on unpublished novel, a journal entry, spilled thoughts about a certain subject... just about anything really.
and by writing, i mean the kind of writing that's just so captivating that you end up reading it all in one sitting and then immediately look for more of it? [your writing is like that for me 🖤]
does that make sense? idk.
i think vess would be really excited about it, and ivy would want reader to read them out loud to him just because he wants to hear how it all sounds from the one who wrote it.
not sure about ii or iii though.
take good care, sending armloads of hugs 🤗🤗
― Cherry 🍒
Hello my dear! First, thank you so so much for the compliment!! It really does mean the world 💖💖
So as for what the vessels would think about your writing:
I think you're right that Vessel would be really excited!! He's definitely something of a writer himself, in more ways than just music. I think he'd love talking shop with you, discussing ideas and worldbuilding and everything that comes with whatever sort of writing you're into. (He's also the first to spot any sort of reference to the vessels in your writing, which makes him very happy).
I think II can definitely appreciate good writing! He does love reading, after all, so any new material is almost immediately scooped up and nosed through. Hes not picky either; he's down for any sort of writing you do - poetry, essays, longform stories, fiction, etc, he's ready to tear through all of it. Also would enjoy talking to you about the intricacies of what you wrote, just to hear your own thoughts about where everything came from.
III can't read I'M KIDDING. (You all know me. I can't resist an opportunity to dunk on our favorite stickbug). Anyway, I think he'd be the most interested in any sort of fiction you write! I think he'd like asking you about worldbuilding things, little tidbits that others would see as mundane but he likes learning about. Catch him asking you about the taxation system in your little fantasy forest community lmao. Also one to ask you to read your writings to him, though for him it's mostly just because he likes your voice and he likes it when you read to him :)
I think you're right that IV would request you read to him, just to hear it in your words! Also like III, he enjoys you reading to him as well, and he finds it very soothing. I think if you've written anything longform/multiple chapters, it can become a nightly routine that you read to him while he's got his head in your lap or you're cuddle up together, and it relaxes him so much! He's definitely impressed with your writing talents, and tells you as much pretty often.
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I've loved all of what you've written for Dave Lizewski and was wondering if I could request a drabble about Yandere!Dave Lizewski? -🍒 anon
OH HELL yes. Cherry anon you get two cartoonish cheek smooches for this one.
I'm not gonna lie, yandere Dave was hard for me to picture at first bc he's not an aggressive or entitled person (not that all yanderes are) but with Dave, sweet submissive pathetic mommy issues riddled Dave, he puts the obsessive in obsessive. He saw you god knows where - online, at school, on a cam girl site, wherever. And you were just... the epitome of perfection. You were this monument, this idol built of everything he craves and dreams of. You're like a sex god to him, and he gets suddenly why Eros and Aphrodite had such devoted cults and followers. He would worship you given the chance. I'm not gonna beat around the bush here (pun intended) he jerks off almost exclusively to you. He thought he was chronically horny before???? By god you have made him so much worse just by existing. He is absolutely desperate for you, he will do anything for you at any time. When he works up the nerve to finally approach you after both online and in person stalking you for so long, he's just so... desperate. You've literally never in your life met such a desperate, pathetic man. He starts following you around like a puppy, he lets you walk him like a dog. He's bricked up around you constantly to the point where you stop noticing it. Like you notice it, but he is ALWAYS hard, so you just... get used to it.
He whines when you touch him. He whines and his eyes roll back and he stiffens up like someone just started deep throating him. From the simplest touch. A hand on his arm, a pat on his back, even just grabbing his sleeve to get his attention. You consume his every thought and he is NOT subtle about it despite his best efforts. He begs you to let him devote himself to you. He knows you'd never look twice at a guy like him, and he's fine with that. Genuinely, ALL he wants is to be your bitch. He'll get you coffee (and probably cum in it) he'll do your laundry and pick up your dry cleaning (your dirty panties and bras if you wear them will go missing. Also probably your socks and tights but you didn't hear that from me.) He'll happily do your homework and rub your feet or shoulders or anywhere you want. I don't think he'd be clear headed enough not to get Kick Ass involved if he thinks it's necessary. Maybe he'd try to set up someone who wasn't good enough for you, or at least tarnish their reputation enough to give you reason enough to stay away from them.
If you mention ANYTHING about being horny or having a dry streak in your love life (because all the guys you try to go out with end up arrested and usually released for various crimes and run ins with your local borough vigilante) you barely finish the thought before Dave is on his KNEES. Literally on his fucking knees, BEGGING you to let him go down on you. Like almost crying as he begs and pleads and whines for you to please let him service you. He'll do anything. And you know he will.
Reality hits you that this guy is crying and literally begging you to "use him like a toy". His mouth, his hands, his cock, ANYTHING. He starts babbling about how he's a virgin (barely catching himself from saying he's been saving himself for you. Maybe it slips out anyway.) That he'll be good for you, he'll even try his hardest not to cum if you decide he's not allowed to.
Obviously you fold.
You don't know how in a matter of weeks Dave ended up going from offering to help you study and do your homework for you to viciously going down on you, soaking your bed with his drool and tears and your cum while he just works orgasm after orgasm out of you, all while humping your mattress until the foot of your bed is sticky and dripping with his cum (leaking through his pants/boxers atp) but all you know is that when Dave is around you are always caffeineated, vaccinated, and freshly masturbated. And unfortunately his approach works, because you are so thoroughly taken care of by Dave attending to your every need and whim with dogmatic, almost religious devotion, that you... kind of put dating on the back burner.
You don't really need a boyfriend when you have a psychosexaully obsessed submissive yandere who LITERALLY kisses your feet and calls you goddess, god, mistress, master, owner. Dave calls you his owner. He will of his own accord collar HIMSELF with a tag that says property of your name. Fuck.
jayy!! lately i’ve been thinking that steve really really likes it when you ride him. like yeah, he loves to see you on top but i feel like he loves the idea of you using him to get off yknow?? like he just wants to be your boy toy. doesn’t even care if he doesn’t cum, but gets SO WHINY and blushy when he does cause he just feels so so lucky to have you jump his bones🙌
UGH i need him like i need to BREATHE. need him to whine in my ears 24/7
-🍒
oh lawd. this one…. brain goes BRRRRRRR what did you PUT in this ask cherry…. does this fit the prompt? maybe 🤪 but it was written at work so have mercy on me
Of all the things Steve loves in the world, making you feel good? Top of the list.
That much is a given— with the fervor in which he’ll bury his face between your thighs, moans that vibrate against your cunt just right, his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips rut against the bed.
When he’s determined to pull an orgasm out of you with his hands, his darkened hazel eyes drinking in every moan, desperately flicking between your blissed out expression and his fingers pumping into your cunt, covered in your slick— all of it shows in the ache in his pants, in the breathy noises he makes when you tip over the edge.
So, you’re not at all surprised at what he says to you that night — take what you want.
You’re both tangled together, haphazardly draped across the bed— too entranced in the hot press of each others mouth to think about letting go, even as you had both staggered up the stairs and into the bedroom. It had been one charged dinner date, with one hand far too comfortable sneaking up your skirt go tease you.
Now, Steve lies beneath you and when you break away, panting, to work on the buttons of his dress shirt, he’s a fucking sight to behold. Chest heaving, face flushed so much it crawls down his neck, his eyes fix on you with such an intenseness that it makes you shiver.
His shirt has been driving you crazy all dinner, undone just enough to show a flash of chest hair. Now you work it open quickly, each button revealing a little more of his glorious tanned chest, sprinkled with hair. Lust drools through you. You rake one hand down it, fingernails pressing into his skin lightly and Steve groans.
“Okay, you need to get naked, like, right now,” His hands pair with his words, finding the edge of your shirt. He’s tugging it up and your arms go up to let him pull it from your frame. His insistance makes your grin.
“Funny how you can say that when you’re still wearing pants.” You bicker back, using your now free hands to work on his belt buckle.
Steve watches you for a moment, his tummy clenches when you palm at his bulge for a moment and his head rolling back onto the duvet. He makes a pained noise. His hands form fists at his sides — just for a moment, before he’s sliding them up your thighs.
They creep beneath your skirt, finding the elastic of your panties — then one of his hands shift forward, cupping your heat tightly. You moan at the same time Steve does, his hand pressing up against your clit perfectly. He shakes his head on the bed, his hair messing up against the sheets.
“I take it back,” He whines. His hands shoot down to overtake yours, shucking his pants down his thighs as best he can. Just the thin material of his boxers remains. “I don’t think I can wait, honey, I need— you can just- please,”
“Hey, hey, I got it, I got you,” You push his hands away and Steve melts. He grows still, only his hands twitching and his neck craned up to watch as you tug his boxers down.
His cock must be aching with the way it looks, all pretty and flushed in the head, crying just for you. You can’t help yourself, giving it a quick pump, rubbing the head with your thumb.
Steve keens loudly, his body growing taut, his head thrown back. A strangled whimper tears from his throat. “Ngh- please, oh fuck, pleasepleaseplease—“
You release his cock and Steve deflates a bit, panting loudly. Your skirt takes only a second to remove and it takes another to push your panties to the side, your knees straddling across his hips. Your core burns hotly, clenching in anticipation of being filled.
You make sure Steve is watching as you hold his cock, prepped to sink down — and he is. His face, still flushed with his eyes bright, is intent on watch your own.
It makes the heat in your gut flare hotter. Hot lust sparks beneath your skin as he keeps his gaze on you for as long as he can — your hot, wet cunt sinking down on him finally forcing his eyes closed.
“Fuck, fuck— shit, don’t move just yet,” The words pour from Steve’s mouth, his eyes screwed up and head thrown back. Your hands shift forward, planting on his chest and you give him a minute— revelling in the delicious stretch his cock gives you. Fuck, it never gets old.
You lean down and kiss the closest skin you can find, his collarbone. Steve smiles, eyes still closed. His hands shift off the sheets, trailing from your thighs, your hips, up your ticklish sides, until he finds your face. His thumbs stroke over your cheeks delicately and when he pulls you closer, you follow without hesitance.
He kisses your lips, soft and sweet, and then murmurs against them. “Take what you want, baby.”
A little whine creeps out your mouth at his words and your hips follow without thinking, beginning to rock gently. A dose of lust licks up your spine and you sigh prettily.
Steve’s face shudders, pleasure rippling across his features and his eyes slip shut. His mouth drops open a little bit, the smallest noise escaping, his cheeks almost as pink as his lips. His eyes crinkle open, watching you closely.
“Ye- yeah, that’s it.” Steve manages to murmur. His hands haven’t left your face, still gently holding either side as you roll your hips back, slow and sensual. “Good girl.”
A gasp pushes past your lips and this time when you rock back, it’s a little more desperate. Steve moans, voice drenched in desire, and his hands fall from your face to grip the sheets. You lean on his chest further, your thighs aching deliciously as you fuck yourself on his cock— up and down, faster and faster.
“Steve,” you mewl out. It’s instinct to reach for him, to call out for him and in response, you feel the buck of his hips, pressing him deeper within you. Steve whimpers.
“You got it, honey,” He assures, voice more and more breathy. “Doing so good.”
There’s a soft squelch as you work yourself down on him, a coil of pleasure beginning to tighten up in your tummy. You feel a fiery warmth beneath your skin that spikes with every movement you make.
One of Steve’s hands comes up to cover your own, holding it tight to his chest — right over his heart and he lets the other nudge your face back to facing him. You hadn’t realised how it had begun to tilt forward, lost in your own pleasure.
“Mhm, fu- fuck, that’s my girl,” Steve whispers. You shift up to change the angle and when you fuck back down, you moan loudly — Steve writhing beneath you to contain himself from fucking up into you. You, however, show him no mercy.
“God,” Steve whines loudly. His breathes are coming out with little whimpers now. “That’s—that’s it— just fuckin’ take what you need. Take it, take it from me, baby.”
Your cunt gushes and you whimper — and you do just that.