#All the hate from BoBs made me think of this...

[ruewritesoccasionally]

Tequila Temptations | Terry Richmond

pairing: terry richmond x black reader

warnings: smut (18+), power dynamics, oral (m+f receiving), teasing, light choking, overstimulation, squirting } lmk if you think i missed anything else !

summary: in a fiery clash of power and desire, they engage in a competitive battle of dominance and submission; a game no-one can win.

word count: 3.2K

a/n: ngl i kinda hate this one 😭 but take a shot for every time i wrote 'tequila' (yes the title and a/n are included) 🤭

They should have never been friends—never even been in the same circle. She didn’t know how the hell he got along with the people she loved, and Terry was convinced she was merely tolerated, not liked. Every group outing, every game night, every holiday trip—it was a cycle. They bickered. They argued. They ruined the vibe just enough for someone to sigh and say, “Can you two behave for once?”

She thought he was self-absorbed, cocky, arrogant as hell. He thought she was stuck-up, too chipper, fake as fuck. And yet—somehow—they always ended up in the same damn rooms, at the same damn events, circling each other like two predators who hadn’t decided who was prey yet.

Tonight was no different.

Terry’s place. A small gathering—good music, good drinks, a little too much tequila. The group thinned out as the night stretched on. Before long, it was just the two of them.

She could have left. Should have left. But there was something smug in the way he leaned against the counter, glass in hand, watching her like he had already won something she hadn’t figured out yet.

Terry took a slow sip of tequila, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “You know, you could go. But there’s still a lot of tequila left, and I’m not finishing it by myself.”

She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “So?”

His smirk deepened. “Unless you’d rather get home early than stoop as low as entertaining me, your greatness.”

She knew it was a trap. She should have just rolled her eyes, grabbed her bag, and left. But she didn’t. Instead, she tilted her head, eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite name yet.

“Little-known fact,” she said, stepping forward, slow and deliberate. “Tequila, aka the Devil’s Juice, will land me in one of three places.” Her voice dropped just enough to make him pay attention. “On top of someone, underneath them, or simply in jail.”

She leaned in, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin. “Are you sure you’re prepared for that?”

That was when Terry knew.

Knew he was about to test fate. Knew they were both about to cross a line they’d never be able to uncross. And he had never been one to back down from a challenge.

He poured another shot, licking his lips as he met her gaze. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

The tequila burned warm in her throat, but it was nothing compared to the heat crackling between them.

She sat opposite Terry, legs crossed, back straight, one arm draped over the chair like she had all the time in the world. The rest of their friends were long gone, leaving behind empty glasses, a lingering rnb playlist, and the kind of silence that made every glance feel weighted.

He rolled the dice between his fingers, smirking. “Truth or dare?”

She tilted her head, considering. “Dare.”

Terry leaned back, slow, deliberate, gaze flicking from her lips to her throat before settling on her eyes. “Take a shot without using your hands.”

A soft scoff left her lips, but she reached for the lime wedge, dragging it between her teeth before knocking the shot back, throat bobbing as the tequila slid down. She didn’t break eye contact, even as she sucked the juice from the lime, tongue flicking against the rind just to make a point.

Terry’s smirk didn’t falter, but something darkened in his gaze.

Her turn. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he said easily, licking the salt from his thumb.

A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “Who’s the best you’ve had?”

Terry’s smirk twitched, just barely, but she caught it. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, voice dropping lower. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Her nails tapped against the glass, watching him over the rim. “You don’t have an answer or you don’t want to say it out loud?”

His chuckle was quiet, almost amused. “Cute. You think you’d make the list?”

She didn’t blink. “I think I’d top it.”

A beat of silence stretched between them, so thick it nearly swallowed the air in the room.

Terry exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he poured them both another round. “You talk a lot of shit for someone who still has all their clothes on.”

She arched a brow. “Is that your way of asking me to strip?”

He slid a deck of cards across the table. “It’s my way of saying you won’t win a single round.”

They played. Each hand was a battle, not just against the cards, but against the tension threading tighter between them. He lost first, dragging his shirt over his head like it was nothing. She refused to look—refused to give him the satisfaction—but when he sat back, flexing like it was second nature, she felt the tequila settle deep in her stomach.

Then she lost.

Terry drummed his fingers on the table, watching as she peeled off her sweater, revealing smooth, bare shoulders and the strap of a lace-trimmed bralette. His eyes dragged over her like he was committing her to memory.

Her breath hitched—barely—but he caught it.

A slow smirk curled at his lips. “Something wrong?”

She met his gaze, chin tilted. “You’re staring.”

“So are you.”

Neither of them moved. Neither of them blinked. The air between them was electric, pulsing with something that wasn’t quite hostility anymore.

Terry leaned in, elbows on his knees, voice smooth as sin. “If I win the next round, you do whatever I say.”

She mirrored his movement, their faces a breath apart. “And if I win?”

His gaze flicked to her lips before dragging back up. “Then I do whatever you say.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Richmond.”

He poured another shot, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of tequila before he spoke.

“You'll love it, trust me"

The next hand played out in slow motion.

She had him cornered—a queen of hearts against his king of spades, her victory sealed before he even flipped his card. He let out a low hum, jaw flexing, before exhaling through his nose.

She tapped the table, smug. “Looks like you’re all mine.”

Terry’s gaze flicked up, slow and heavy. “That so?”

She nodded, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “And since I won, you have to do whatever I say.”

He licked his lips, the remnants of salt and tequila making his tongue drag slow. “What’s it gonna be?”

She hadn’t planned that far ahead. Maybe she expected him to call it quits, maybe she thought she’d be the one to break first, but the way he was looking at her—like he was already three moves ahead, waiting for her to catch up—had her pulse kicking up a notch.

A slow smirk lifted her lips. “Take another shot.”

Terry arched a brow but reached for the bottle anyway. He poured, the liquid sloshing slightly, before tilting the glass back. She watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed, the heat in her stomach curling tighter.

His glass hit the table with a soft clink. “That it?”

She rolled her eyes. “For now.”

He chuckled, deep and knowing. “Scared?”

That did it.

She slid her chair back, moving around the table until she stood in front of him. He watched her, amused, eyes dragging over her bare shoulders, the strap of her bralette slipping slightly. She leaned down, hands resting on the armrests of his chair, caging him in.

His smirk didn’t waver. “Bold move, sweetheart.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she murmured, head tilting.

Terry’s fingers twitched on the arms of the chair. “You tell me.”

She leaned in, just enough for her breath to ghost against his lips.

That was all it took.

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her waist as he pulled her down—onto his lap, against his chest, into him. A sharp gasp left her lips, but before she could think, before she could react, his mouth was on hers.

The kiss was messy, reckless, months—maybe years—of tension snapping all at once. His lips were hot and insistent, his grip firm as he held her in place. She wasn’t passive—never that—fingernails digging into his shoulders, pressing closer, daring him to give in completely.

Terry groaned, low and deep, as her teeth scraped his bottom lip. He grabbed her jaw, tilting her head just so, before deepening the kiss, tongue sweeping past her lips in a way that made her stomach tighten.

She hated him. She hated him.

So why was she still kissing him like she never wanted to stop?

He pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against her lips. “Admit it.”

She swallowed, heart hammering. “Admit what?”

His grip tightened. “That you want this.”

Her chin lifted defiantly, lips still wet from his. “Not if my life depended on it.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest, his fingers brushing over her thigh, warm and possessive. “Liar.”

She exhaled sharply, but before she could form a retort, his lips were on hers again, stealing the words right from her mouth.

And this time?

She didn’t stop him.

The aftermath of the kiss left an electric hum in the air, their lips barely parted, still tasting each other like the heat was a living thing between them. But this wasn’t just about the kiss. It wasn’t just about the brief collision of mouths, the hard press of bodies that came before. No, this was the point of no return. Their breaths came fast, erratic, as if they both realized in the same instant what they were about to do.

There wasn’t time for careful calculations. There wasn’t room to weigh the consequences, not when every nerve in their bodies was set alight by the undeniable pull of temptation. Terry’s hands, rough and demanding, slid down her back, fingers digging into the curve of her waist, steadying her against him. Her skin burned wherever he touched her, and when his lips grazed the sensitive spot on her neck, a soft moan escaped her throat—one that she couldn’t hold back if she tried.

It was all moving too fast, but neither of them cared anymore. They were already on the edge.

Terry’s hands, large and possessive, slid behind her back, undoing the bralette and pulling it off in one swift motion, leaving her exposed to him. He took a moment to study her, eyes dark with lust, before his fingers traced the curve of her ribs, dragging his touch down to her hips. “You really think you can control this, huh?” His voice was low, husky with barely contained desire.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “Maybe I don’t want to control it,” she shot back, smirking, her fingers working the button of his pants with practiced ease. “Maybe I just want to see how long you can last.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound almost menacing. “Sweetheart, I’ve been handling you this whole time.” His lips pressed against hers again, urgent, demanding. He wasn’t kissing her for pleasantries now. There was no civility, no holding back. His mouth was a declaration, a promise—I will have you, no matter what it takes.

But then, just as quickly, he stepped back, smirking at the frustration that flickered across her face. “Let’s see if you can walk,” he challenged, voice dripping with arrogance.

Her eyes flashed with defiance. “I’m not the one who needs to be carried.”

Before she could react, Terry’s hands were on her again, this time lifting her off her feet effortlessly, his grip firm around her waist. She gasped, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist as he made his way to the stairs. The tension between them thickened, both of them trying to outdo the other, but neither willing to break.

She kissed his neck, biting it lightly as he carried her up the stairs, her breath hot and unsteady. “You’re not the only one who’s in control,” she teased, but the words were heavy with lust, her hips grinding into him in an instinctive act of defiance.

Terry’s hand tightened around her waist, and he pushed her gently against the wall at the top of the stairs, his lips crashing into hers again with the force of a storm. His hands were everywhere—gripping, guiding, demanding. And still, they both played the game, each trying to push the other into submission.

The couch—where it all started—was forgotten now. They were past the point of no return. No more teasing, no more games. He flipped her onto the bed with such precision that it was clear he knew exactly what he wanted. And right now, it wasn’t her fighting for control.

It was him.

Her back hit the mattress with a satisfying thud, but she didn’t lie still for long. She tugged at his beltloops, drawing him closer, her nails raking down his body, marking him as her own. The electricity between them crackled, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

“You really think you’re in charge here?” she challenged again, her voice breathless, desperate to break him.

He smirked, hovering above her, his breath heavy on her skin. “We’ll see about that,” he growled, before leaning down to claim her mouth again.

The control—the teasing, the simmering heat—they both fought for it, one pushing the other further into the depths of desire until neither of them could hold on any longer. Terry’s mouth trailed down her neck, his hands tearing at her remaining clothes with an intensity that matched the desperation in her own touch. She moaned, but it was a challenge, a dare for him to do more.

And so, he did.

His fingers slid between her legs, pushing her further into the bed as he tested the waters, teasing her until she was trembling beneath him, her body a wreck of frustration and need. “You want me to break, don’t you?” he murmured, pressing against her with just enough pressure to make her want more.

“I want you to try,” she shot back, her voice dripping with defiance, but even she knew it was a losing battle.

She took control next, leaning over and wrapping her lips around him, giving him no room to breathe as she sucked with relentless precision. He gripped her hair, groaning at the sheer effort she was putting into it. But it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t done yet.

Even as Terry’s body trembled beneath her, she didn’t stop. She kept sucking, savouring the feeling of him twitching in her mouth, fully aware that he was drained but too prideful to pull her away. The whimper that escaped him was drowned by her steady movements, her lips drawing him closer, until the overwhelming sensation forced a breathless moan from him.

“Terry,” she murmured, licking her lips, “You really think you’ve won?”

But instead of answering, his hands found their way into her hair, tugging her head back and forcing her to meet his eyes. The smirk on his face was one of both satisfaction and challenge. “You may think you have control, sweetheart... but not for long.”

Now it was her turn. She was already gasping, her body betraying her as his mouth descended on her, devouring her with the same brutal hunger she’d just shown him.

She tried to hold it back, to control the inevitable release, but it was useless. His tongue, his lips, his hands—they had her shaking with pleasure, unable to stop the wave of her orgasm as it crashed over her. She bit her lip, struggling to keep quiet, but the obscene sound of her wetness, the gush of her squirt, only seemed to drive him harder.

“Go on, then,” he coaxed in a low, teasing tone. “Say it.”

Her legs trembled, her body on the edge of climax, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She wouldn’t let him know just how badly she needed him, not yet. But the words that slipped from her lips—raw and unfiltered—were nothing but lies. “You’d have to fuck me better,” she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut, already surrendering to the storm building within her.

Terry flipped her over once more, making sure she was pinned beneath him, before he drove into her again, claiming her completely. She had no choice but to take it, her body a mere vessel for his pleasure and power.

She would never forget this. Neither of them would.

Terry’s grip on her tightened in response, his hands running down her body as he thrust deeper, more desperate, trying to push her past her breaking point. He knew she wasn’t ready to admit she was losing—he wasn’t ready to either. But everything was becoming harder to deny. The way they both moved, the way they fought for control—it was all leading them to the same conclusion.

But then, with a smirk tugging at her lips, she pushed further. “That all you got?” she taunted, voice dripping with defiance, daring him to prove her wrong.

Terry froze for a moment, chest rising and falling as he took in her words. She was playing with fire, pushing him with that fucking smirk of hers. “You just don’t fucking quit, do you?” he growled, his jaw clenching. He was about to give her what she wanted—only, this time, she wouldn’t get away with it.

“I’ve made myself come harder than this,” she threw out, casual as ever, eyes meeting his with a hint of challenge.

His breath caught in his throat. A fire ignited in him, something darker, possessive, and raw. “From who, huh?” he rasped, his tone dangerously calm as he leaned over her, locking her in place.

She tilted her head, smirking, maybe unaware of the danger she’d unlocked. “Or from other guys.” The words slipped out like nothing, too easy, but the second they left her mouth, she could feel the shift.

Terry’s eyes darkened. His fingers closed around her throat, not in a gentle way, but firm, enough to remind her who had the power now. “Other guys, huh?” His voice was low, threaded with menace. “Bet they didn’t fuck you like this.”

And before she could respond, his hands were on her again, dragging another orgasm out of her, harder, deeper, relentless. She gasped, trying to hold on to some shred of control, but he wasn’t giving her any space to breathe.

“Say it,” he demanded, his grip tightening as he pinned her against the bed. “Tell me who fucks you better.”

Her body trembled beneath him, overstimulated, her entire being in the grip of his power. She tried to fight it, to hold back the admission, but the words spilled from her anyway, a whisper of surrender. “You,” she gasped, breathless, barely able to get the words out. “You fuck me better.”

Terry smirked, the victory written all over his face. He wasn’t done yet, though. “That’s what I thought,” he growled, driving into her again, hard and fast, forcing her to take it, forcing her to feel every inch of him.

The rest of her words died in her throat, her body overwhelmed by him, pushed to the edge until she had nothing left to give. He didn’t let up, didn’t let her off easy. They were both drowning in the competition of who would break first, but by now, she knew—it wasn’t a matter of if, it was a matter of when.

And Terry? He would make sure she never forgot who she belonged to.

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[ride-em-cowboy]

The Doctor, The Pilot and The Little Girl

Bradley’s little girl is sick and what should have been a routine doctor’s appointment might just change the both of their lives.

“I don’t want to go papa,” the little girl said as she squirmed in his arms, not wanting to go into the large building.

“I know you don’t sweetheart, but you’re sick,” Bradley tried to calm her as he rubbed a hand up and down her back. Her little head came to rest in the crook of her neck and he could feel the heat radiating off her.

“‘M not sick-” she began, but was cut off by a fit of small coughs racking her tiny body.

“Mmhmm, not getting out of it that easy baby girl,” he chuckled softly, holding her just a little bit tighter as he felt her tears begin to soak through the collar of his t-shirt.

“After this, we can go to the store and you can pick any toy you want, deal?”

A small whine left her throat. Usually she’d jump at the idea of a new toy.

Bradley walked up to the reception desk, still holding his daughter who had refused to pick up her head that was still buried between her teddy bear and her dad’s neck. The inside of the building was a lot more inviting then the outside, with a colourful corner for the children Lucy would usually be rushing to play with or pointing out and naming all of the animals painted onto the walls.

“Hi, my daughter has got an appointment with Doctor Jamie.”

The receptionist looked between the pair with a smile as she got a look at how pale and sad the small girl in his arms looked, “Sure thing, can I get her name?”

“Lucy. Lucy Carole Bradshaw,” he replied.

The receptionist typed away at her computer before she frowned. “Unfortunately her usual doctor is out on maternity leave, but we have an amazing paediatrician filling in for her. Doctor Jake will take great care of her,” the receptionist said with a smile, “take a seat and a nurse will be right out with you.”

“Nooo,” Lucy squirmed tiredly in her dads arms as he sat down in the waiting area. She wasn’t a stranger to coming to the doctors, but it didn’t mean she liked it.

”I know princess,” he soothed her the only way he knew how, smoothing back her hair and peppering light kisses on her forehead.

He hated having to drag her to the clinic but with her medical history, he couldn’t change it. Lucy had been born premature and been in and out of hospital growing up for various complications and check ups, so whenever she even had as much of a sniffle his protective instincts would kick in.

They didn’t have to wait long before a man with dirty blonde hair and wide wire rimmed glasses came out into the waiting room. He wore bright coloured scrubs and a name tag shaped like a bear with ‘Nurse Bob’ stamped across it. He knew Lucy, had helped treat her many times.

He walked over, slowly kneeling down in front of where she sat cuddled in Bradley’s arms, one arm around her bear and the other clutching to his shirt. “Hey Lucy, remember me? Somebody told me you’re not feeling too well.”

She sniffed, wiping her tears on the back of her hand before nodding.

“Well, how about we get you feeling better and guess what?” He said, whispering to her as if to make sure no one else could get in on the secret.

“What?” She croaked quietly.

“I’ve refilled my sticker drawer since your last visit and I think I have a few you and Mr Bear might like.” The bear she carried around with her had been one from the many hospital trips growing up, the cream bear with the little pastel outfit had been with her through countless check ups and procedures.

Despite the temptation of the stickers, Lucy made no effort to move, completely exhausted and cuddled in Bradley’s arms. Bradley rose to his feet, clutching his little girl as he followed Bob to one of the many exam rooms lining the hallway. Bob took a seat on a wheely stool and gestured for Bradley to sit up on the exam table with Lucy. “So, Lucy Lu. What brings my favourite patient back?”

She hid further into Bradley’s neck causing him to sigh. He looked exhausted himself, dark circles under his eyes, stubble starting to form where he hadn’t shaved for a few days. “She’s been running a fever since yesterday morning, can’t bring it down with tylenol or cool baths. With her history, I thought it best to bring her in.”

Bob nodded in agreement, “you did the right thing.”

“Okay, Miss Lucy. Why don’t we start with letting me take your temperature? Can we do that?”

She nodded, and allowed Bob to put the thermometer in her ear and wait until it beeped. Bob frowned at the reading, noting it down on her chart. “Definitely still running a fever.”

He ran through a few more questions as he set up the next piece of equipment, asking when her last dose of medicine was and if Bradley had noticed any rashes or anything else out of the ordinary for her. “

“Just the fever and the cough, she was complaining her throat was sore too but won’t let me near to get a good look. Spent half the night cuddled to my chest last night, the only thing I could do to get her settled.

“Lucy, can I clip my special laser on your finger? Like we usually do so we can show the doctor how good your numbers are?” Bob asked.

Bradley loved the way Nurse Bob was with her, he had such a way with kids and always explained things at their level and gave them the choice. She held out her little hand, letting him clip a pulse oximeter on her finger. Both him and Bradley watched the monitor closely. Being a dad of a sick baby meant you picked up a lot about the medical world.

“Her pulse ox is a little low and her heart rate is a little fast, but with the fever it's not unusual. I’m going to write this down and then go and grab Doctor Jake to take a look. But first, I think you did such a good job that you and Mr bear both deserve some stickers,” Bob said as he turned to his sticker drawer and pulled out a shiny blue box filled to the brim.

He set the box next to her, pulling out a few he thought she might like, “I’ve got some princess stickers, doc mcstuffins and my personal favourite, strawberry scented ones.”

She moved her hand slowly, pointing towards the strawberry scented ones, letting Bob hand her a few.

“And we can’t forget Mr Bear, can we?”

Lucy let out a tiny smile, the first one Bob had managed to pry from her that morning. He’d definitely be noting that down as a win. With Mr Bear covered in a few Doc Mcstuffins stickers and Lucy quietly sniffing the strawberry scent of the stickers, Bob left the room to go and grab Doctor Jake.

Bradley shifted her in his arms, letting her show him all the stickers doctor Bob let her pick out, pressing a kiss to her cheek and pushing the sweaty curls from her forehead. Lucy didn’t always do well with new doctors and despite reassurances from Nurse Bob and the receptionist, it still didn’t ease his nerves having someone new looking after his baby girl.

He didn’t have long to think about it before there was a knock on the door. Bradley didn’t know what he was expecting, maybe an older and wiser man, salt and pepper beard - been in the business for a while and was great with kids. What he didn’t expect was the tall, broad shouldered and blond-haired doctor who walked into the room. He was good-looking, there was no denying that. He grabbed the wheelie chair that Bob had not long occupied and rolled into position in front of the pair.

“Hi, my name's Doctor Jake,” he held out a hand for Bradley as he introduced himself. Bradley took his hand and adjusted Lucy who once again had buried herself in the crook of his neck, hiding from the new stranger in the room. Bradley watched as his kind green eyes moved to the little girl in his arms and tilted his head to get a better look at her.

“And you must be Miss Lucy? A little bird told me that you’ve not been feeling too good, huh? Can you tell me about that?”

“‘M not sick,” she mumbled.

He’d already got the low down from Bob and checked over her initial vitals. He had read her chart and noted her history; premature, spent time in and out of hospital in the NICU and had heart surgery for a small hole in her heart from being born so soon.

“Hmm, well. I guess you wouldn’t mind letting me check you over so we can prove your daddy here wrong.”

She shuffled a bit to get a better look at the stranger. He was at her level, wearing a kind smile as he looked her over. Despite watching him, she still stayed clutched in her dads arms, not looking like she was going to be moving any time soon. He noticed the bear clutched in her arms, the standard ones they give to pediatric patients when they’re in hospital and decided to change tactics.

“Who’ve we got here?”

“It’s my bear,” she croaked.

“Does he have a name?” Jake asked.

“Mr Bear”

“That’s a great name! And you’ve already got stickers from nurse Bob! I can’t say I’ve got as good a sticker collection as his but there might be some super special ones nurse Bob doesn’t have that we can put on Mr Bear.”

This definitely got her attention. “Can I have one now?”

Jake let out a chuckle. He knew this game, knew she’d end up with a shirt full of stickers and he’d still have an exam to complete.

“I’ve got to get a look at you first. Nurse Bob tells me you’ve got a bit of a fever and if you are feeling yucky it’s important you tell me so we can get you feeling better. Then we can have a look at the stickers and if you’re good, you can have three whole stickers!”

“Promise?”

He held out his pinky and curled his much larger finger around her tiny delicate finger, shaking it lightly, “pinky promise.”

Bradley shifted her around better so her back was against his chest, still holding her protectively.

Jake grabbed a pen torch from his pocket, “is it okay if I take a look at your throat first?”

She hesitated for a moment before letting him, it was red and raw as expected.

He continued on with his exam, taking the stethoscope from around his neck he noticed the faint pink scar in the centre of her chest. “Do you know what this is, Lucy?”

She nodded, “a stethoscope,” not quite getting the pronunciation right.

Jake chucked softly at the way she said the word, “that’s right! Do you mind if I take a listen to see how strong your heart is?”

She hesitated a moment before nodding. He checked her too quick beating heart and the way her breathing rattled slightly.

“Looks like you’ve got a case of the flu, Miss Lucy,” he said, speaking to her first before turning her attention to her dad. “Her lungs sound a bit congested but it doesn’t sound like we’ve hit pneumonia yet and there’s no new heart murmurs. We’ll get a couple of viral swabs just in case but I think we’re good to continue with Tylenol, fluids and rest. I can prescribe something to help her feel a little more comfortable and obviously if her fever spikes again or you’re worried you can always bring her back and we’ll take another look.”

“I know I’m probably overreacting but every cough or fever…” he paused, his mind wandering slightly before he continued, “just sends me back to nights in the hospital, alarms beeping, doctors and nurses rushing around and her tiny little body more wires and tubes than baby.”

Jake placed a comforting hand on his elbow, meeting his gaze. “You did the right thing, it’s always best to err on the side of caution especially with her history.”

“Thanks doc.”

“Now, Miss Lucy. As promised,” Jake spoke as he turned around in his chair and unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk pulling out another small box with his stash of stickers. He placed them on the exam table beside her, pulling out the sheets and spreading them out. “I’ve got princesses, special Dr Jake stickers, planes, because I’m a plane guy myself.”

“Can papa have one of mine?” She asked so innocently. Jake nodded as she pointed to the plane stickers, “he needs a plane sticker, because he flies planes!”

“He does, does he?” Jake asked as he glanced at Bradley who was most definitely blushing. “You’re a pilot?”

“I-uh, I’m a naval aviator.”

Jake smiled at that, “that’s pretty cool, you must be proud of your daddy, huh Lucy?” He continued choosing stickers for her and Mr Bear, helping her stick them on her shirt and her bear for her. She stuck the plane sticker to her dad’s shirt, cuddling into his side now the excitement had turned into exhaustion again.

Bradley picked her up easily, holding out his spare hand to shake to doctors before he headed out of the door. “If you need anything, just give us a call and I can see her again. I’d like to see her again in a week's time just to be sure she hasn’t gotten any worse. I’ll get that all sent through for you.”

Jake watched as Bradley held the small girl close to his chest, smoothing back her hair and placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, whispering something he couldn’t quite make out. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was secretly looking forward to running into the pair again the following week. Whoever her mother was, was a very lucky woman to have a man like him in her life.

“Alright, come on sweet girl. Let’s get you your medicine and get you home. I’ll call Auntie Nat and tell her I won’t be coming in today.”

Taglist: @robertsfloyd

[darklove9314-blog]

A Rose Without Thorns: an Elucien Fanfic

Hello everyone and welcome to Day 2 of SJM Romance week, Prompt: First Fight. I hope everyone enjoys the story.

Synopsis: When tensions rise between Lucien and Elain, will a heated argument turn into something more? . NSFW: for hate sex.

Rage and fury bubbled up within her, threatening to escape as she slammed the door shut, shoving her back into it as her throat bobbed in frustration, That arrogant, smug, son of a bi-

An aggravated knock sounded at the door, the repetitiveness of it driving her up the wall as she ground her teeth. the beast she tried to keep buried underneath her flesh finally breaking free as she threw the door open revealing Lucien's furious gaze before it flickered to her own. He made his way past her, not bothering to ask for entrance as the fury at the intrusion welled up inside of her.

She slammed the door again, challenge in her gaze, daring him to say anything, to do anything as the fire in his eyes threatened to consume her.

Good. She wanted that fury unleashed on her, she was tired of everyone being silent around her. so afraid to harm her that they treated her like a porcelain doll instead of a person. sometimes she wished they would just let her shatter. No one ever had, not until-

"Care to explain?" He snapped making her spine straighten in response.

"Why should I explain? I'm a grown woman with my own wants and desires. No matter what this bond thinks is going to happen between us means very little to me. I am my own person, I have desires of my own and if I wish to channel those desires it is no business of yours.” She shot back at him, twisting her hands in frustration.

He took a step closer, forcing her back to the door once more, but she refused to back down. She had had enough of this, enough of this tension between them. It was finally time to let it snap.

"Do you want to fuck him?" He asked her. His voice low, almost primal.

She had expected this question. Had expected it the moment Lucien had saw them kiss. What was worse was that when she had done it she had thought Azriel was the male that she had wanted, her desire for him was so potent that she couldn't help but try a taste of him. But when they had kissed, when she had finally given into her fantasies and desires for him. it was-It had not been how she imagined it would be.

She had expected a lot from that kiss, had expected to have this earth shattering, world turning experience. She thought when their lips touched, it would make sense. Her losing Grayson, her broken engagement, all of it. She had expected the kiss to put everything into perspective, to set everything right and give her a direction, a purpose. She had been naive to expect anything more than what it was.

She should have known that Azriel was not the right person for her, that no matter how much peace and quiet he gave her, it would never be enough to settle her, because deep down she knew silence wasn’t always a good thing. And that made her so furious that she could barely speak.

I don't want the cauldron to be right. She thought glancing into Lucien's livid gaze as she squared her shoulders, preparing to strike him with her words once more.

"You have no right to ask me that. I can fuck who I want to fuck. If I take a lover in your absence that is no business of yours and yet you still feel the need to sit there and lecture me about wanting and desiring others but what about Vassa?"

Lucien's jaw clenched, that heated gaze concentrating every ounce of that intensity on her, turning her body near molten from that stare alone.

"What about Vassa, mate?"

She stiffened,

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? Why shouldn't I call you what you are to me?" He challenged her, taking a step forward, yet she refused to take a step back. If he wanted to intimidate her, fine, but she refused to be seen as prey any longer.

"I'm nothing to you. Don't you get it? and don't change the subject. I've seen how you look at her."

A low chuckle escaped Lucien's lips, giving Elain pause as Lucien glanced down at her. His focus solely on her.

"How exactly do I look at her?" He inquired, stepping so close that her back was pressed to the door as she could have sworn that his fingers twitched towards her. Her nipples pebbling in response at that voice. That power, hers wanting to come out to play. To see who would dominate who. But she wouldn’t even give him a taste of that until she knew where they stood.

"You gaze upon her as if she's a goddess walking this earth." She sneered hearing his laughter to her response.

"I will admit, being attracted to Vassa would be easier, She's a beautiful and fierce female who anyone would be lucky to have in their bed and despite our quarrels, we have a lot in common. It would be easy to fall into bed with her, to fall in love with her knowing that she would return that love, however -" He stepped closer, his gaze drinking her in as her fury at his words began to flare, "I have no desire to fuck her. to be with her. She's not the female i dream about, she's not the female who i want to taste, she’s definitely not the female whose legs I want wrapped around my head. The one I want to sink my cock deep into-“ he rasped, their hurried breaths mingling together as desire stronger than she’d ever known pooled between her legs.

He closed the space between them, daring to push the bounds of their separation and she let him, Gods and Mother above, she let him.

Pressing his cock to her center, letting her feel every inch of desire he had for her as he leaned in close, his mouth nearly a whisper away from her ear as those clever hands of his weaved into her hair, tilting her head back to expose her to him as he breathed.

"She's not you."

She erupted, her lips colliding with his own as she let her primal instincts drive her. She was tired of suppressing them. Tired of driving them down to adhere to everyone’s expectations when all she wanted to do was unleash herself.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Lucien slammed Elain into the door, his desire evident as she yanked his hair back wanting to deepen their kiss. If he wanted to play these games then they would play.

His hand found her throat. applying the slightest bit of pressure as she moaned into his mouth, the pressure felt so delicious that Elain couldn't help but revel in it.

"Like that?" Lucien whispered between her lips. never taking his off of her.

She refused to answer, wanting nothing more than for him to shut the fuck up and take her like he wanted to, but after years of waiting for this, she knew the fucker would make her work for this.

He chuckled, the sound sending heat between her thighs as if she hadn't been wet enough, as his other hand that had not been occupying her throat went to her nipple, twisting it through the fabric of her bodice as she moaned loudly into his mouth. Her nipples pebbling at his touch as he pinched her other nipple and rolled it between his fingers making them stay nice and perky for him.

"Answer me." He commanded, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes." She hissed out, cursing his name for making her feel this way.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Mate." She hissed at him. damning him yet again.

"Good Girl." He mused, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine at the words as he pressed a kiss to the side of her throat making it bob. Reminding her that he could be gentle when he wanted to be.

He inhaled her scent, exhaling at the desire he smelt from in between her legs as he pressed her to the door, palming her breast as a growl of frustration escaped from him.

"These clothes are in my way." He growled ripping the top of her bodice as her breast spilled out for him.

Before she could even breath a word about the dress, his hands lifted her thighs wrapping them, around him as he pressed his erection to her center, letting her feel just how much he wanted her.

Her head was heady, she could barely think as his hands moved to underneath her skirts, moving her undergarments and ripping them off in one fluid motion, leaving nothing of hers inaccessible to him as his clever fingers roamed over her folds, exploring the wetness there. Elain moaned from the fire his touch provided, his hand warming the most pleasurable parts of her.

"So wet for me, my mate, tell me, were you ever this wet for him?"

"Gods." She muttered as he pinched her clint rolling it between his fingers as she cried out in pleasure.

"Answer me."

"N-No."

"No what? He asked, drawing her orgasm out from her and denying her every time she was close.

"No, he never made me as wet as you."

"I might have to put that to the test."

"What are you-"

Before she could answer, the rest of her dress was ripped from her, her body lain on the floor as he bared the rest of her to him, leaving her on full display for him, remaining fully clothed in the process.

Keeping her legs open, Lucien knelt before her, moving his head between her legs as the silky strands of his hair brushed against them. he spread her wide making sure he had full access to her pussy as he purred in delight,

His head lowered, meeting her gaze with an intensity she had never seen before as she shattered underneath the first stroke of his tongue.

Making her cry out from how good his tongue felt on her, her nails raked against the wooden floors. Pawing at them for dear life as Lucien continued his exploration only stopping when he felt sated with how much of her wetness he could gather in his mouth. her moans and pleads for him to fuck her filling the room.

"Lucien, please." She begged,

"Please, what?" He taunted,

"Please. fuck me."

He pulled away roughly, tearing her from her orgasm as he stood up, his cock straining against his leathers, making sure he was out of her reach, as she glanced up at him, confused as she questioned,

"What are you-"

"Stand up."

She didn't know why she obeyed as she stood naked and waiting in front of Lucien as he circled around her, observing her as her heart pounded in response. She hated it, Hated the pleasure that he could draw out of her without even trying.

"Hands on the door." He commanded as her nipples hardened in response.

She turned back to the door, leaning against it, as she heard Lucien come up behind her, getting her into position and kneeling her aching body foreword so he could display the full picture of her desire.

His hands went to her hair again, pulling it back as he lowered his voice asking,

"Is the Shadowsinger home?"

"Yes-Yes, why?" She breathed, her core tightening at his words as she felt his lips at her ear, hearing the buckle of his leathers as he undid them before he answered,

"Because I want him to hear what happens when us Autumn Court males fuck the females that are ours."

Before she could respond, his cock drove up inside of her, making her feel every inch of him as she cried out in pleasure. She could barely even remember his name as Lucien rode her with his cock, her pussy gladly accepting him as the door rattled in response, making sure everyone outside of it could hear them.

Her cries turned to sobs as her pussy took more and more of him, she had never had this big before, had never felt so full before as her pussy clamped around him soaking his cock with her desire as her pussy clenched around him, her orgasm erupting from her lips as he continued to pound into her mercilessly.

"Fuck." He exclaimed, as she felt the splashes of his own orgasm inside of her, promising herself that she would ask Madaja for a tonic later as he filled her to the brim. His seed seeping onto her legs as her body ached from the pleasure he had thrusted upon it.

He pulled away, shoving his cock back in his leathers and buckling himself up as he leaned into her, the evidence of what they did between her legs, dripping onto the hardwood floor as he said,

"You're mine, Elain Archeron, just like i am yours. remember that the next time you want to fuck anyone else ." He told her, as he left the room, leaving her stunned, wondering what she was going to do next.

@sjmromanceweek

[peoplemakemesick]

You guys know the trope with the sunshine

and the grumpy one,

where the grumpy one sometimes shows his soft and smiley side because of/with the sunshine one?

(not interested my ass, look at how adorably excited Tommy looks when they decide to give it another chance)

I really love their golden retriever and sarcastic/pessimistic dynamic...

The first time they met Tommy literally said "we're probably all gonna die anyway" and Buck decided to maul his best friend for him

[0mg-bird]

Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader

Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.

“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.

Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.

Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.

“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.

“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.

Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.

By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.

“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.

“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed.

Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.

As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”

Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”

“I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”

Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”

Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.

His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”

“She’s not fake!”

~~~~~~~

“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.

Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.

Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.

“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.

“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.

You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. ��Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”

Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”

Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.

You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.

As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.

You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over his upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.

“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.

You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.

“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.

“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”

You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”

“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.

“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”

He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”

Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.

“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”

“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”

He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”

“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.

His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.

Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.

As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.

“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”

He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.

~~

Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.

“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.

“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.

“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”

You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.

By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.

Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.

“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.

A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.

“What?”

“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.

Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”

You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.

“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.

Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.

Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.

You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.

“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.

“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.

Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.

“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.

“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”

The crew grows a sour look.

“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.

Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.

“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.

“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.

The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.

When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.

“Where you goin’?” He questions.

“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.

He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.

His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.

“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.

Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”

They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”

“What?!”

[crushmeeren]

MEN WHO ARE SECRETLY PUSSY HOUNDS. (✿˶˘ ³˘)

⋆ ft. izuku, tamaki, megumi, tobio 𓌹-𓌺

master list link

࣪ . ˖˙ 𖥦 I kind of hate this…… and I made it way too long on accident. But once I started I wanted so badly to finish it, so….. please enjoy while I crawl into a hole. (՞߹ - ߹՞)

Izuku never fails to stand tall in the face of whatever comes his way. The man is an unyielding force in his resolve if he believes in what he’s doing.

Such a statement is simply a fact of life. It’s like declaring that the sky is blue, grass is green, and Midoriya Izuku happens to be the single most determined man you’d ever met.

He’s clever, wicked smart and, as he’s gotten older, he’s managed to get a handle on his nervous stuttering and rambling.

Hell, if you watched him in an interview now, you wouldn’t think to associate him with the humiliating first interview he’d had right out of school that managed to make him go viral overnight. The comments were not kind.

So, as calm and well spoken as Izuku is today, you never expected him to be such a….. such a pussy hound for you. It’s the best way you can describe it.

Izuku fucking loves that tight little pussy of yours in such a gut wrenching manner that he day dreams about it often enough it’s resulted in Bakugou smacking him upside the head to “pay fucking attention,” more than once during department meetings.

The scenarios that run rampant through his mind are more than enough to send all his blood rushing below his bellybutton while he’s at his desk. With the way his stomach clenches and the ache that burns and nags at him to just get. inside. your. fucking. pussy. — well, he’s sure his briefs are sticking to the tip of his cock in the most lewd way.

So, Izuku takes a long lunch.

Just like that, as soon as he gets home, Izuku becomes the stuttering, blushing, babbling mess he was not so long ago. He strides into your kitchen, snaking his arms around your waist and groans when he smells the sweet vanilla scent of your lotion on your neck.

You easily let him grip your hips and lift you up onto the edge of the counter, fingers slipping into your soft sleep shorts and tugging them down and off your ankles. Izuku kisses you frantically, shoving his pants to mid thigh and allowing his cock to bob free and smack his stomach.

He shivers, giving you the prettiest high pitched whine that shoots straight to your pussy when his heavy dick starts stretching you a bit too eagerly. His lips part and his cheeks blossom with a blush so intense you’re sure steam will come from his ears as he bottoms out.

It’s too much too quickly and when you hiss, sinking your nails into his shoulders, all he can do is bury his face in your throat and whimper in apology. You can tell he’s desperate when his voice starts to shake and his hips thrust in shallow motions controlled by a mind of their own.

He babbles, “M’sorry princess, m’so sorry! Your pussy’s so good squeezing my cock, I can’t stay still. God — oh my god, please please let me fuck you!”

It’s fruitless to resist his begging. So suffice to say, you let your blubbering, stupidly hot, pussy hound of a husband use you until you’re both curling your toes and seeing stars.

Tamaki is shy on a good day.

He blushes bubblegum pink, he stammers, he avoids eye contact to the absolute best of his ability during interviews. Of course, he does manage to put on a more approachable front to face the public. If only to show impressionable children that if he can be brave, then they can, but still he struggles with his own anxiety.

It’s only common sense that everyone assumes you’re the more dominate one in the bedroom, and well, they aren’t wrong, per se.

But, there are two sides to every coin, and Tamaki is nothing if not a pussy hound for you.

Granted, his inner dog only comes out every so often, and even then he’s still a desperate puppy who seems to wiggle his way into having control.

And tonight, that’s where you find yourself.

Tamaki swears he can’t help it.

“T-Tamaki, stop!” You push at his shoulders, the warmth of his slick chest presses firmly against your tits and it does not help your resolve in any way. “Let me finish washing my hair at least,” you protest weakly, steam curling up into the air around you both, blanketing the shower in a fog.

Tamaki whines childishly into your throat, sucking at the hollow of it until you shudder in his hold. His fingers tighten on your hips, thumbs tracing the bone softly.

“Please pretty girl, I need you so bad. I wanna feel your pussy sucking on my cock. I’ve wanted it all day,” he pleads against your collarbone, voice pitching higher, dragging out the words at the end as he complains continuously.

He’s been at this for almost the entirety of your mutual shower and, really, it’s not as if you don’t want to have sex with him, you just wanted to finish cleaning off first! Decidedly, you lace your fingers in his drenched purple hair and yank until he pulls back and meets your gaze.

His face is a pretty rosy pink and his eyes are so hooded they’re almost shut, no trace of your shy husband to be found as he stares you down with a searing heat.

Within a heart beat of your agreement he spins you, pushing a hand into the middle of your back and tugging on your hip until your ass is sticking out. You yelp, catching yourself with palms meeting cool tile.

His cock is full and jumps steadily when he rolls his hips to drag it over the lips of your pussy, gasping softly and hanging onto your waist with an iron grip until his weeping tip catches. Then he’s sliding inside and stretching you out completely with one sharp thrust.

One low moan of his name and Tamaki’s wrenching you back to meet each desperate push of his hips. The smack of your skin is so loud it makes your face burn, and the force of it pulls you up onto your toes to keep your balance. This man’s got you biting your fingers just to keep yourself grounded.

Your poor husband’s been so worked up all day that when his panting turns into stuttered breaths and cut off whimpers after about three minutes, you’re not surprised.

“Oh, oh god, I’m gonna cum baby, wanna cum inside. Please can I?” He pleads, eyes glued to where his cock disappears inside your pussy and returns even shinier than before.

He’s crying out, shoving his dick to the root inside you and stuffing you full before you finish nodding yes.

But, it doesn’t bother you much that he finished so fast. Soon after, a soft, warm tongue starts playing with your clit, lazily eating your pussy until you’re licked clean of his release and squirting on his face.

Megumi pretends to be aloof. He pretends that he’s cool, collected, and apathetic. As if nothing ruffles his feathers, and to give him credit, he can be those things.

Yet, he’s also much more. Once you sneak past his prickly exterior, Megumi is the kind of guy who cares so violently that he has to pretend he doesn’t or it’ll tear him to shreds. Actions speak louder than words with him.

Most people aren’t privy to the softer side of your sweet husband and he maintains his uncaring attitude to the majority nonetheless. Like it’s some kind of secret.

So you’re sure people would be unfathomably shocked to find that Megumi can and has, on several occasions, dissolved into a messy, needy, unraveled pussy hound when it comes to you.

When Megumi falls into this sort of mood, he really lets go. He’s been sending you increasingly toe curling texts and pictures all day while you were at work and you just knew what was coming once you returned home.

You find the dark haired man sitting on your couch, shorts and briefs shoved to his thighs and t-shirt rumpled at his collar bone. Slender fingers curl tightly around his cock, jerking himself off slowly, a delicious peachy blush trailing from his cheeks to his nipples.

His head raises up when he spots you, eyes heavy and smoldering when he reaches a hand out to you and makes a grabbing motion.

“C’mere baby, want you so bad,” he murmurs pitifully, hips rolling up to meet his hand when he drags it back down his shaft. You raise an eyebrow in amusement and he pushes out his lower lip.

“You need it that bad Megumi?” You tease, sauntering over to the couch to get a better look at him. He scowls in return but his hand never leaves his cock, thumb swiping over the head which makes him bite harshly onto his lower lip.

He sinks down a little lower into the couch, brows pinched together to emphasize his pretty little pout. “Don’t be mean. Just ride me.” He pauses, eyeing you. “Please.”

“Awfully demanding for someone who needs my pussy so badly, aren’t you?” The smug smile on your face makes Megumi huff indignantly.

You don’t waste much more time teasing after that, too riled up from all the nasty texts he’d sent you throughout the day.

You strip off your clothes until you’re bare. Megumi kicks off his shorts and yanks his shirt off in similar fashion, tossing them aside carelessly. You crawl onto the couch and straddle his lap, raising on your knees and steadying him at the base until you smoothly sit all the way down on his cock.

Megumi’s hands fly to your waist, head tossing backwards and eyes rolling back with a throaty moan when he finally gets the unrelenting tight squeeze on his dick that he’s been longing for since he woke up this morning.

You thread a hand through the hair at the base of his skull and pull until he looks you straight in the eye. He looks pussy drunk already with his glassy eyes and pink cheeks, jaw hanging open as his chest heaves. To think, you haven’t even moved yet.

You ride him slowly at first, listening to his bitten off gasps each time you sit back down. When you start to pick up the pace, Megumi’s eyes widen and his nails pinch your hips.

Megumi pleads with you to no avail. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels amazing princess, I can’t.” His voice takes on the whiny quality that you adore. “Please, s-slow down baby or I’m gonna cum.”

You don’t slow down. You kiss him sweetly, brace a hand on one shoulder, tangle the other in his hair again and fuck him until his breaths are shuddering remnants of a sob and he’s limp on the couch beneath you.

Tobio, without sugar coating it, is arrogant. Don’t get it wrong, he absolutely can back that confidence up with the seemingly natural intelligence he has when it comes to volleyball, but he’s clueless with relationships. Not to mention he has zero filter.

But he’s kind. He’s sweet, and you love Tobio so much for trying his very best to understand the ins and outs of what it means to be a good boyfriend to you. He becomes such an easygoing version of himself when he’s alone with you and you get more enamored with him by the day.

That’s why you’re sure people, mainly Hinata, would pay good money for the information that “the king” is a desperate fiend for you. Your very own personal pussy hound.

Tobio commands the court, but he melts into the mattress and becomes something akin to putty when you have sex.

Your usually indifferent boyfriend has been persistently begging you all night to sit on his face and now that you are, you wonder why you didn’t do it sooner.

“Jesus Tobio, you’re so good at eating pussy — fuck,” you praise, voice slipping into a whine as you roll your hips to drag your swollen clit over his velvet tongue. Your fingers tangle in silky black hair and pull until Tobio’s eyes flutter shut with a husky moan.

One of his hands slide from your hip to your ass and he spanks you harshly, grabbing a handful before he moves it down to squeeze the base of his cock.

You keep your heavy lidded gaze on his pretty face, chest rising and falling with choked off gasps the closer you get to cumming. Tobio licks lazily at your pussy, pushing his tongue inside you and then sucking on your clit.

He cracks open his eyes and his stare makes you feel as if warm honey rushes through your veins instead of blood. His cotton candy pink cheeks paint him as the picture of pussy drunk between your thighs, whimpering when you yank on his hair that much rougher.

It doesn’t take much more for you to cum with a shiver and then Tobio’s wildly shoving you down his body until his heavy cock is nestled against your pussy.

“Baby please,” Tobio whines, large hands kneading your ass and spreading you until cool air brushes over you. “I was good yeah? So let me put my cock inside you.”

“Why should I? You’re already about to cum, aren’t you Tobio? Just from eating a little pussy.” You can’t resist the urge to tease him, tone dripping in condescension and a wolfish grin tugging at your lips.

He glances at the wall with a frown, blush roaring back to life with a vengeance but the cock twitching rhythmically between your thighs contradicts his petty actions.

“You’re gonna cum as soon as you get inside of me.”

Your boyfriend shoots you a halfhearted glare. “No, I’m not.”

Tobio, in fact, does cum the instant you sit all the way down on his cock. His voice cracks when he does, a sweet cry of your name falling from his lips.

Lucky for you, he stays rock hard afterwards, and he only looks a little dazed. Tobio flips you both and fucks you until your pussy is raw and he has nothing left to give.

[sebsbarnes]

unspoken || minho moon

minho x reader

summary: there was a moment of consideration as you gnawed on the inside of your mouth. the weight of your secret was becoming unbearable.

part two!

warnings: angst! insecurity. probably a few grammar errors

word count: 950+

masterlist

a/n: i fear i couldn't resist writing for him. first work for him so there isn't others in the masterlist. i wrote this pretty quick so i apologize in case.

you always fought, but that night you didn't.

it was inevitable that when you and minho were around, some sort of bickering would ensue. it was as if the friendship you had relied on those sharp-tongued comments and eye rolls. there was some enjoyment in the banter; you could always rely on minho to be as quick-witted as you. most of the time, it was truly nonsense and comical to those around you, but sometimes he took it too far.

he would cross a boundary, known or unknown, and the aftermath was either venomous words spilling off your tongue or complete silence and avoidance.

it hurt, to ignore him. act like minho wasn't there. sure you would come around to him after a few days and pick right back up where you left off. and yes maybe it was unfair to ignore him after an argument, but that was you, that's what you did.

what you've really come to recognize is these silly little arguments hurt because you had feelings for minho. you hated the giddy feeling you had when he was around. the slight heat to your cheeks when he gave a real, genuine, compliment. the sizzling sensation that coursed through your skin when his hand brushed against you. or the way it felt like your chest was caving in on you and your lungs were screaming for help when minho confessed to q that he had a crush on someone, someone that isn't you.

so here you were avoiding him after he made an innocent remark about his crush. it shouldn't have, but it rubbed you the wrong way and perhaps it was because of the newfound knowledge of your feelings towards minho.

the evening was approaching and soon the sun would exchange places with the moon. the friday night would come alive and the sounds of eager students heading off campus would echo into the night, almost taunting you in your sadness. there was a nice footpath you've called home for the last week. after classes were finished you found yourself walking on the winding path away from school, taking in the fresh air and allowing yourself some peace. nestled a few feet away from the path was a small gazebo with a picnic table in the center. you sat down and allowed your eyes to close, soaking in the tranquility of nature away from the dizziness of life.

"hey..." a voice called out ripping you back to reality.

the voice. his voice. in this moment it made you feel sick. you swear you could feel the bile rising up and threatening to escape. your vision went white. heart beating so hard you could've sworn you saw its outline rising from your chest.

"hey minho," you exhaled as he sat across from you.

his throat bobbed, "how are you?"

you hummed in response, unsure what to say.

the silence between you stretches longer than it ever has. there was no space for quick-witted responses or light-hearted banter. minho didn't know what was the reason for your absence, but he missed you. when he looked at you your eyes didn't hold that mischief it normally possessed. he knew this was not a moment for a sarcastic quip.

"talk to me," minho nearly pleaded, eyes dancing across your face.

you paused trying to find a way to convey your thoughts to minho without confessing your feelings, "have you ever realized something too late?"

his eyebrow pulled up on his face, "well...of course, yeah. i think we all have."

"like, the thing is right there," you nearly laughed, "right in front of you the whole time. but by the time you realize, it's gone, it's moved on like everything else. i realized the importance of it too late."

you looked to minho who sat silently as you rambled. his eyes were clear of any judgment or jokes. the typical smirk etched on his lips was erased. his brows pulled softly together, a delicate ridge separating them. you watched as his hand snaked up from his lap and cradled your hand. his fingers lazily intertwining with your own.

"you know you can tell me anything," he said softly, his accent lighter.

you offered him a small smile. not a fake one, a real one. you could tell minho everything, everything but this. not when he is interested in someone else, you can't ruin that for him. can't ruin your friendship.

he sensed the hesitation, "...c'mon," he urged gently, eyes hopeful.

there was a moment of consideration as you gnawed on the inside of your mouth. the weight of your secret was becoming unbearable. all you wanted to do was scream at the top of your lungs for every person in KISS and for every star in the galaxy to hear that you were falling for minho. but before you could open your mouth and string together all the consonants and vowels for 'minho i'm falling for you' his phone rang.

minho's hand slid out from yours leaving you feeling icy but not as icy as the blood coursing through your body as you watched a shy smile adorn his face. one of his hands ran through his hair, a movement he did when he was feeling nervous, in a good way. you sat in agonizing silence waiting for him to hang up.

a pink hue dusted across his cheeks, "that was uh-"

"go," you replied softly, barely above a whisper, "have fun."

the moonlight that illuminated your face was now blocked my minho's standing figure. if you could, you wanted to be swallowed by his shadow into the darkness.

"oh. what were you going to say before the call?" minho asked.

you shook your head, "it was nothing."

[januaryembrs]

ahhh can I ask for a drabble for sunshine reader x Spence when they're out with the team at a bar or something and reader is obviously a clingy and giggly drunk?

MY BABY'S SWEET AS CAN BE | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

description: Spencer's girlfriend loves karaoke when she's drunk, but she loves him even more

length: 1k

warnings: literally just fluff

He smiled at her unabashedly as she flitted through the crowd, the top of her head bobbing in between other patrons as she shoved through the sea of bodies, and he heard the odd “Excuse me, oh I’m so sorry, excuse me, Sorry-scuse me,” which let him know the mop of hair with two little bows in it was exactly who he thought it was. 

Not that he’d need to try hard to find her, his eyes hadn’t left her all evening. She had a tendency to get upset if they got parted when she’d had a couple to drink, and he hated the look she got on her face when she welled up and felt sorry for herself. 

She burst out the throng, her eyes quickly scanning across the group, and Emily barely had time to hand her a Frozen Daiquiri before she’d launched herself where Spencer leaned against the bar.

“Honey! Oh, I missed you so much,” She said, immediately homing into his waist, her ear pressing against his chest where his heart beat particularly loudly, because whatever affectionate streak she carried on a day to day basis was dialled to one million when she got like this. 

“Baby, I saw you five minutes ago,” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her nevertheless and running his large, warm hand down her spine where her backless dress gave him free rein to feel everything. 

She looked up at him with an aghast stare, “You didn’t miss me, too?” 

“Oh, I never said that, now did I?” Spencer asked, his words sweetened with his smile, and adoration stained every single syllable like coffee over clean breath, “Did you have fun?” 

She giggled, leaning to steal a quick kiss, and her hand brushed over his stomach to pinch the soft pouch of fat gently, “I did! Did you see me, I totally outsang Luke,” 

“For the last time; karaoke is not a contest, we’re supposed to be singing together,” Luke said, his forehead sweaty where he’d pushed through the crowd himself trying to keep up with her as she’d bolted off the stage to get back to her spot tucked under Spencer’s arm. 

She stuck her tongue out at him, rolling her eyes when he gave her a more obscene gesture, and turned back to where Spencer had yet to rip his eyes off her, his pupils dopey and wide and full of puppy love as she looked at him. 

“He’s just mad becaus he wanted to sing Beyonce’s part, and I made him be Shakira,” She said on chuckled breath, “But I think our cover of Beautiful Liar could top charts, like, nationally,”

“Ofcourse, I reckon you could go global if we got you a good agent,” He humoured her, and her eyes lit up with glee, bouncing on the balls of her feet to the point he almost spilled his beer. But he didn’t care, he just loved seeing her so happy. 

“Really! Really, really?” She asked, quickly stealing another adoring kiss from his lips like she could only go so long before she needed another one to fuel her words, like she didn’t even realise she was doing it as there was little to no pause in her end of the conversation. 

“Well, sure,” He said, his mouth interrupted when she pecked him again, and he wondered if she genuinely understood they couldn't kiss and talk at the same time with the way she was going, “But, if my sweet girlfriend becomes a popstar sensation overnight, who’s going to be there when I want to do this?” He said, wrapping an arm around her waist, his fingertips caressing the dip of her back, already knowing which moles sat beneath his touch and where, as he gave her a real kiss, one that made her squeak a little and the sound of it forced an even bigger smile out of him. 

He parted from her reluctantly, and he didn’t even care that he usually didn’t like PDA all too much if it meant she would look so content and glowing, her eyes creasing as she sighed with a besotted expression. Spencer never thought he would get so lucky to have anyone look at him like that, never mind someone who he loved with his whole entire being, and everything else left of him. 

“You raise a good point, my genius love,” She said, pressing her burning face into his sternum, her hands still never leaving where they’d buried into his waist, “I guess I’ll put my debut album on hold and stay to kiss you some more,” 

“Will you guys stop being so disgustingly sweet, it’s making my punch taste sour,” Penelope said, even though the team didn’t seem to mind their soppy exchanges. Spencer sometimes seemed like his old self again when he was with her, something boyish and teasing and loving returning back to his rough hands and exhausted expression, and for that the two of them could rip each other's clothes off for all they cared. 

Because they were one of those couples that made everyone else feel lucky to just see that kind of love so close, not envious or repellent, like finding a fawn sleeping on your doorstep. It was rare and pure and warmed everyone right through to their marrow. 

The two of them smiled at one another, and she leaned in to steal a few more kisses from his lips that tasted faintly of beer, only for another song to start playing and she gasped, her mouth dropping in excitement. 

“I love ABBA, we have to sing this song together!” She said, lacing her fingers with his and tugging his stubborn, lithe figure over to the stage, “Please, Spencer, please, please, please,” 

And he gave her exactly what she wanted, because when could he ever say no to a face like that. 

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

night out

a/n: we back babyyy!!! i haven't been able to stop thinking about these two for fucking months, so i wrote both this aaaaand another part to wrap up their story and get it out of my system.

summary: “I can’t believe you’re fucking jealous right now…”

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader x ex!peter parker, light smut, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, bffs kate bishop and yelena belova, french rave, dancing, kissing, over-the-clothes fun, foreplay, references to public sex, choking, manhandling, jealousness, possessiveness, angst, arguments, brat mode activated (though its totally justified), these hoes are not dealing with their emotions in a healthy way but it's just for the sake of yummy drama

word count: 1993

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“I thought we were just going to a cute little wine bar, not a fucking rave,” you yelled over the music as your friends dragged you further into the warehouse. 

“Oh, come on, babe,” Yelena boomed, slinking her arm around both yours and Kate's neck, “don’t be a chicken now.”

“Yeah,” your brunette friend on the other side of Yelena tilted her frame to catch your apprehensive eye, “you already sneaked out, so you might as well make it count.” 

“I hate it when you’re right,” you groaned, your gaze narrowed to a squint as you got used to the warm flashing lights that dully illuminated the club. 

“Then you must always hate me,” a smug smirk spread across her features before the trio of you ventured further into the crowded space. 

As the night faded away, you found yourselves bathing in the strobes of neon light as your bodies moved on their own accord, like you were all part of a hive, buzzing together in harmony.

But then when you tapped both of your dancing friends on their shoulders and ushered their ears to lean in close to your lips, you told them, “I’m gonna go get some water,” receiving two thumbs up before you made your way through the crowd to the curved bar in the corner. 

However, after the bartender handed you a plastic bottle and you tilted your head back to take a much-needed sip, a familiar voice found your ears from across the bar. 

“As I live and fucking breathe,” you tipped the bottle back down and glanced down the way at the unexpected figure moseying closer to where you stood. 

“Peter!” a surprised smile couldn’t help but spread across your features, “what are you doing here?” 

Settling in beside you, he said, “it’s a Saturday night, where else would I be?”

“No, I mean, what are you doing in Paris?” 

“Oh, what, am I not allowed to be in your city anymore since the breakup?” he joked.

“No, of course, you can be here.” 

Leaning in even closer so that he didn’t have to yell as loud, he asked, “so how are you doing?”

“Me? I’m good, yeah,” your head bobbed in a nod, “how about you?”

“Can’t complain,” his gaze washed over you as if no time had passed at all, “so… can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you shifted the water bottle to your other hand. 

“You seeing anyone?” 

“Oh, wow,” you half coughed, “Peter Parker, king of subtlety.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count, so I figured subtlety went out the window a long time ago,” he smirked, “so, are you?”

“I–, uhm…” your eyes averted a moment as you uttered, “no.” 

You weren’t, it was true. Though the reason for why you’d sneaked out in the first place did have to do with a matter of the heart. 

You’d asked your friends what their advice would be if you hypothetically needed to get over someone. They both of course assumed that you were referring to the man standing before you in the disco and not the person who watched you like a hawk every minute of every day. The method they had suggested wasn’t a sound one, though one that still found you desperate enough to try. 

To go out, meet someone else and bang the dude out of your system. 

“Can I ask you something else?” Peter asked again, ripping you out of your thoughts, away from your bodyguard and back in the moment. As you offered him a nod, he smiled brightly, “you wanna dance?”

And that’s how you found yourself in the middle of a crowded dancefloor, plastered against your ex.

It didn’t take long before your lips reunited as well, staying locked as you both let your hands wander, though for you it wasn’t entirely in the spirit of rekindling something that you’d missed, and more to help you forget about the person who you truly wished to lose yourself on a dancefloor with. 

“Fuck,” you heard Peter groan in your ear and his desperation poked your lower abdomen for the attention you used to give it, “you wanna go slip into the bathroom?”

“Uhh,” you giggled as his lips tickled the side of your neck, “what kinda woman do you take me to be?”

“Mine,” he smiled, “that’s who. I know you. A club bathroom is nothing… remember Amsterdam?”

“Y-yeah, I remember,” your body tingled at the thought. 

“That’s also an option, if that’s the kind of mood you're in,” he winked. 

Chuckling as he squeezed your tit, you shook your head lightly, “I’m not fucking you here on the dancefloor.” 

“Oh, come on, it–”

But the rest of your ex’s sentence was cut short as a figure forced itself between you two and pried you apart.  

Instinctively reaching out for Peter as he was forcefully pushed back, your arm then faltered as you blinked up to discover who had shoved him. 

“Barnes,” a shiver ran down your spine at the stormy expression plastered all over his face, a side of him you’d never witnessed before, “I–”

But he cut you off, only to bark, “out, now.”

“But I–”

“Do you wanna walk on your own or should I just toss you over my shoulder?” he glared down at you just before you watched Peter’s hand plant itself on Bucky’s broad shoulder. 

“Hey, dude, don’t touch her, back off,” your ex tried to square up to the intimidating guard dog. 

“No, no, Peter, it’s alright,” you rushed to explain, knowing full well that your bodyguard could and would put him in the hospital, “he’s–…” your eyes briefly flickered up to Bucky’s steely blue eyes, still directed at you, “he’s my bodyguard,” before you let your touch graze Peter’s forearm, “I’m so sorry, it was great seeing you again, but I have to go.” 

Getting dragged out of the club like a perp from a crime scene was not the way you’d imagined your night would wrap up. 

After he’d virtually tossed you in the back and slammed the car door shut behind you, you fished out your phone and swiftly sent your friends an explanatory text while you half-watched Bucky march around the vehicle to the driver’s side. 

The silent treatment he then served you nearly felt worse than the heated words you imagined tumbled around in his head as he fumed, his knuckles nearly turned white from how fiercely he was gripping onto the steering wheel. 

But when you finally mustered the courage to break the eerie silence, your words came out just above a whisper, “I’m sorry…”

“Are you?” his eyes snapped up to find yours in the review mirror, “really? Because I don’t fucking buy it.” 

“Well, I am!” you threw up your arms, “what do you want me to do?” 

“Not sneak out like a fucking teenager to get drunk with your little boyfriend,” 

“I’m not drunk and he’s not my boyfriend!” 

Not taking any of your words to heart, Bucky went on, “you know how stupid this was, right? What if something had happened, huh? I know you didn’t personally read the threats you got back when I first got this job, but trust me when I tell you that if any of those fuckers had gotten their hands on you tonight, you’d be lucky if you were still breathing when the sun rose. This is exactly the sort of reckless behaviour that caused you to need my help in the first place.”

Your mouth then fell open, utterly stunned at his audacity, “oh my god… you’re unbelievable…” you uttered breathlessly before hazily commanding, “stop the car…”

“No–”

“Stop the fucking car!” you roared, casting your gaze to him once more till you felt his foot step on the break. 

As the car screeched to a stop, you wasted no time ripping the door open and storming out. 

Though you didn’t dare to look back, you still heard him exit the vehicle as well and shadow you as you wandered a few paces away, just far enough for you to be able to get some air. 

“Y/n,” you heard him from just a few meters behind you, “get back in the car–”

But you didn’t shift your feet as you then interrupted, back still turned to him.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking jealous right now…”

“What?”

“Well aren’t you?” you heatedly twisted around to face him, “because it sure fucking looks like it. Getting all fucking possessive, ripping me away from my ex before I can crawl my way back to him, before I get the chance to feel anyone inside of me but you–”

“Stop–”

“Is that it? You just want me all to yourself?” you kept on poking, too blind by your fury to consider the consequences, “you want it to be you that I’m so in love with that I’d make you personalised porn, which would consequently ruin my life and cause me to have a babysitter essentially stalking me.”

“Stop!” he took a step closer as he barked.

“Unless you’ve already seen the tape,” your feet shifted back, keeping him at a distance, “fantasising that it’s for you, getting yourself off to the image of me bouncing on that pretty pink dildo–”

Your sentence then crumbled into a shrivelled yelp as you felt his cold metal hand seize your neck and push you the last few inches up against the brick wall behind you. 

His fingers didn’t squeeze you in the slightest, though you still knew just how easy it would have been for him to tighten his grip and turn it into more than just a raging warning. 

“You done?” he spat as his eyes pieced directly into your soul, “or do you wanna give me more reasons why you’re nothing more than a spoiled little brat, why I should just quit now and not have to deal anymore with what a fucking pain you are in my ass?”

For the life of you, no attempts at offering him an answer were successful on your lips. 

He scared you. 

He’d never scared you before. 

Both because of the explosion you’d undoubtedly made even worse than it had to be, but also his fleeting threat of leaving you for good. 

It all terrified you… 

Though, there was also a different sensation that it awoke within you, one that caused your eyes to flutter down towards his lips, an action that your bodyguard surprisingly mirrored as well as your heated breaths synced up. 

You had no idea who moved first, if it was you or him, but the next thing you knew, you were kissing him.

With adrenaline still pumping in your veins, you clawed at his broad frame as you let your tongue flicker out and flutter against his own. The steely hand that had locked itself around your neck softened and whisked down your form, mirroring your own starving touch as he securely held you like you were about to fall. 

However, just as your palm slid down to find the bulge in his pants, rubbing it needily before your fingers tried to seize the short zipper, Bucky took a large step back, snapping to his senses and creating a wide distance between him and your melted form against the brick. 

His eyes refused to meet your foggy ones as he held them to the ground, slowly catching his breath before uttering, “get in the car,” defeat shining through in his low tone.

“Bucky–,” you tried, but without success as he then cut you off. 

“Please, just–…” his gaze fluttered shut a moment as you then heard him sombrely promise, “look, I’ll make sure your mom doesn’t hear word of what happened tonight. If we go now, then we’ll arrive before any of the staff wakes up, no one will notice.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[littlelamy]

part two of this post ;)

your hands trembled slightly as you tossed your bag onto the bed. the weight of everything that had just happened still hung in the air, thick and suffocating. you could hear rafe downstairs, pacing, probably trying to figure out what to say—how to fix what he broke and what he’s going to do about the video.

you weren't sure if you even wanted to hear it, but apart of you did feel bad about sending the video.

the doorknob turned slowly, and you didn’t bother looking up when rafe stepped inside. you could feel the desperation in the way he hovered by the door, like he was afraid to step too close, afraid you’d bolt the moment he said the wrong thing.

“babe…” his voice was softer now, pleading. “please, can we talk?”

you continued packing, each item thrown into your bag with just a bit more force than necessary. “what’s there to talk about, rafe?” you replied coldly, zipping up your bag without sparing him a glance. “you already said everything.”

he winced, guilt painted clearly across his face as he slowly moved closer, his steps hesitant. “i swear, i didn’t mean it. i was just… talking. you know how topper is, he—he was egging me on. i wasn’t thinking.”

you spun around, eyes blazing. “you weren’t thinking? you don’t get to hide behind topper, rafe. you said those things. you chose those words.” your voice cracked slightly, and you hated how vulnerable you felt in that moment, how raw the hurt was.

rafe’s shoulders slumped, his defenses crumbling with every word you hurled at him. “i know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “i know i messed up, but please—i can fix this. just… tell me how.”

you stared at him, your heart warring with your mind. part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to let him fix it, but another part—the part that was still stinging from his betrayal—wanted him to suffer a little. wanted him to understand just how deep he’d cut you.

“get on your knees,” you said, your voice cool and unwavering.

rafe blinked, his eyes wide with confusion. “what? again?”

“yes again…you heard me,” you replied, your tone firm. “if you really want to fix this, you’re going to have to earn it. get on your knees.”

he hesitated for only a moment before slowly sinking to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading, searching your face for any sign of forgiveness. but you weren’t ready to give that to him—not yet.

you crossed your arms, looking down at him, your gaze cold and distant. “you think you can just talk about me like that, and i’ll still be here when you’re done? you think i’m just some girl you can toss aside when it’s convenient?”

“no,” rafe whispered, shaking his head frantically. “no, baby, i don’t—i don’t think that at all. i swear. i was just being stupid. please, you have to believe me. i can’t lose you.”

“can’t lose me?” you scoffed, taking a step closer, watching as rafe’s breath hitched, his hands trembling slightly. “you sure about that, rafe? because from where i’m standing, it sounds like you already made that decision for me.”

he looked up at you, his blue eyes glassy with unshed tears, his lips parted as he struggled to find the right words. “i’ll do anything,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. “please, just… tell me how to fix this.”

you crouched down in front of him, your face only inches from his as you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin lightly. “if you want to fix this, rafe,” you said softly, your voice dripping with control, “then you’re going to have to do exactly what i say. no questions. no hesitations.”

he nodded eagerly, his breath quickening as he leaned into your touch, desperate for any bit of reassurance you were willing to give him. “anything,” he promised, his voice shaking. “i’ll do anything.”

“good.” you stood up again, your eyes never leaving his as you took a step back. “then start by telling me the truth.”

rafe swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he struggled to find the words. “i… i was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “scared of what they’d say—what they’d think of me if they knew how much i… care about you.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “and why’s that, rafe? because i’m a pogue?”

he flinched at the word, his eyes dropping to the floor. “no,” he whispered, shaking his head. “no, it’s not that. i swear, it’s not that.”

“then what is it?” you pressed, your voice cold and unrelenting. “what exactly are you so afraid of?”

rafe’s hands trembled as he clenched them into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. “i’m afraid of being weak,” he finally confessed, his voice breaking. “i’m afraid that they’ll see how much you mean to me, and they’ll think i’m weak. that i’m not… in control.”

you stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sank in. “so this is about your pride?” you asked, your voice dripping with disdain. “you’re willing to throw me under the bus just so you can keep up this stupid facade with topper and the others?”

“no!” rafe’s voice cracked, his hands reaching out to grab your legs, holding onto you like his life depended on it. “no, it’s not like that. i just… i don’t know how to be vulnerable, okay? i don’t know how to let go of control.”

you looked down at him, the sight of rafe cameron—cocky, arrogant, always in control—on his knees, begging for your forgiveness sending a surge of power through you.

“you’re pathetic,” you whispered, leaning down so your lips were only inches from his ear. “but i think you already know that, don’t you?”

rafe whimpered, his eyes squeezing shut as your words sliced through him. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “please, i’ll do anything. just don’t leave me.”

you smiled, the corners of your lips curving upwards as you cupped his chin, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “you’re going to be a good boy for me from now on, aren’t you, rafe?”

he nodded eagerly, his eyes wide and desperate. “yes, yes, i will. i promise. anything you want.”

you stared down at him for a moment, the sight of him so broken, so submissive, sending a rush of heat through you. “we’ll see about that,” you murmured, your thumb brushing lightly over his lower lip. “but for now, you’re going to start by making it up to me.”

“anything,” rafe breathed, his voice shaky as he leaned into your touch. “just tell me what you want.”

you stepped back, watching as rafe’s eyes followed your every movement, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “strip,” you commanded, your voice firm.

without hesitation, rafe began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, his hands trembling as he rushed to obey your command. within moments, he was standing before you, bare and vulnerable, his eyes wide with anticipation.

you stepped closer, your hand trailing lightly over his chest, watching as his body trembled under your touch. “you’re going to have to work for it, rafe,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “if you want my forgiveness, you’re going to have to prove that you deserve it.”

he nodded frantically, his breath hitching as your fingers ghosted over his skin. “i will,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll do anything.”

you smirked, your eyes dark and full of control as you pushed him down onto the bed. “then get on your back,” you ordered, your voice firm. “and don’t move until i tell you to.”

rafe obeyed instantly, his body trembling with anticipation as he lay back on the bed, his eyes wide and desperate as he watched you.

you leaned over him, your fingers brushing lightly over his chest as you straddled his hips, the feeling of his skin against yours sending a surge of heat through you. “you’re mine,” you whispered, your voice dripping with possession as you leaned down, your lips brushing against his. “and you’re never going to forget it.”

rafe whimpered beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets as he fought to keep still, his body trembling with need. “i won’t,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m yours. always.”

you smiled, pressing your lips against his in a slow, possessive kiss, your hand sliding down his chest as you asserted your dominance over him. rafe moaned into the kiss, his body arching beneath you as he surrendered completely, willing to do anything to make up for his mistake.

you pulled back, your eyes dark and full of control as you stared down at him, your hand trailing lightly over his skin. “remember this moment, rafe,” you whispered, your voice low and dangerous. “because from now on, you’re going to think twice before you ever treat me like that again.”

you moved against him with slow, deliberate purpose, savoring the way his body responded to every touch, every kiss. rafe’s hands were still gripping the sheets, his knuckles white as he fought to stay still, to do exactly as you’d commanded.

his breath came in ragged gasps as you took control, your body moving against his in a rhythm that left him trembling beneath you. he was completely at your mercy, eyes heavy-lidded and filled with raw desire. “please,” he whispered, his voice breaking as his body tensed beneath yours. “please, baby…”

you leaned down, pressing your lips against his in a heated kiss, swallowing his whimpers as you finally gave in to the fire that had been burning between you. his hands reached for you instinctively, fingers digging into your hips as he held onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“you’re mine,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, feeling the way he shuddered beneath you. “say it, rafe.”

“i’m yours,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m only yours, baby. i swear.”

the tension between you built slowly, each touch, each kiss sending sparks of heat through your body until the need to be closer to him overwhelmed you completely. rafe’s body trembled beneath yours as you moved together, his eyes locked on yours, filled with both desire and desperation.

“you’re so good for me,” you murmured, your hands running up his chest as you leaned down to kiss him again, more gentle this time, your anger and frustration slowly melting away. “just like i knew you would be.”

his breath hitched, and his hands moved to your back, holding you tighter, his heart racing against yours. “i’m sorry,” rafe whispered, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead to yours, his body tense with both pleasure and guilt. “i’ll never hurt you again, i promise.”

you smiled softly, your anger slowly fading as you felt the sincerity in his words, the raw emotion in his eyes. you could see how deeply he regretted what he’d done, how much he needed your forgiveness. “you better not,” you whispered back, your fingers trailing lightly over his cheek as you kissed him again, softer this time, more tender. “because if you do, you’ll lose me for good.”

rafe nodded, his chest heaving as his body moved in sync with yours, the last remnants of tension slowly dissolving between you as the two of you reached the height of passion together. his hands held you tight, his touch reverent, as if he was scared to let you go, scared that you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

when it was over, you collapsed onto his chest, your bodies tangled together, both of you still trembling from the intensity of it all. rafe’s arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips pressing soft kisses against your hair, his breath still uneven.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his voice shaky as he held you close. “i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to.”

you lifted your head slightly, your heart softening as you saw the tears in his eyes, the genuine remorse written across his face. you could tell he meant it—this wasn’t just a promise made in the heat of the moment. rafe had always been complicated, and you knew it would take time for him to really change, but in this moment, you believed him.

“i forgive you,” you whispered softly, your fingers brushing through his hair as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “but don’t make me regret it.”

his arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. “i won’t,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion as he kissed you again, slow and tender. “i won’t let you down, i swear.”

you sighed softly, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. for now, things felt right between you—balanced, in a way they hadn’t been for a long time. rafe still had a lot to prove, and there was still work to be done, but in this moment, you felt like you could move forward together.

“just… don’t make me go through that again,” you murmured, your voice soft as sleep began to creep in.

“i won’t,” rafe whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “i swear, i’ll be better.”

with that, you let yourself relax in his arms, the weight of the night finally lifting as you drifted off, trusting that for once, rafe meant every word.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[vivwritesfics]

Three Apples Tall

Lando and the readers son is insecure about how short he is. But he got his height from his dad and it was one of the reasons reader fell in love with him.

Lando Norris had never expected to become a father at 24. But life was odd sometimes. It threw curve balls when you least expected it. What counted was how you handled it.

Lando married his girlfriend, the mother of his child. He was going to do it anyway, whether there was a baby involved or not. He moved out of his apartment in Monaco and they got a proper house together, the perfect place to raise the family.

Robert 'Bobby' Norris was the spitting image of his father. Like Lando had made a little clone of himself. He was a little heartbreaker as a baby and had all of the women in his life fawning over him.

He was a mommas boy, but he looked just like his father. As he got older, the resemblance to Lando only got stronger. He didn't start karting, that wasn't in his future. He wanted to be a footballer instead (and Lando was going to support him the entire way).

When Bobby was eleven he expressed to his momma just how scared he was of growing up short. "Girls don't like short guys, mum," he said as they ate dinner together. Lando was away at a race, but Bobby and his mum had stayed home so that he could go to school.

"Trust me, Bob," his mother said as she grabbed his plate from the table. "Girls don't care about height. You've seen me wear heels around your dad, right?"

Bobby wore a frown, but he still nodded.

As Bobby Norris got older, he only got more insecure about his height. His friends all shot up around him, the boys on his football team were all much bigger than him. Bobby hated it; he couldn't help but feel as though people were staring at them. Of course, nobody was, but he couldn't help the way he felt.

He didn't say anything to his father, but he did speak to his mother. His mother that worried about him. His mother that had to speak to his father about it.

Bobby Norris might not have understood this, but his father had felt all of this before. He understood how Bobby felt, better than most.

"Lan," she mumbled as they laid in bed together, holding each other. "He feels really shitty. Do you think you can talk to him?"

Lando couldn't help but feel like this was all of his fault. The short genes were his, after all. He hadn't felt insecure like this since he was a teenager. But Lando didn't care about his own insecurities. He knew how to deal with his own insecurities. Bobby didn't.

I must say they had another child in this time. A daughter, Eleanor Norris. She was a daddies girl, followed in her fathers footsteps. As soon as she could she begged to get into karting, and Lando did all that he could to make that happen.

She was small, but she didn't care. It didn't affect her in the way it did her brother.

Now, back to Bobby.

His friends towered over him. He hadn't been picked on for his height, nobody but him cared about that, but he still felt shit. As a five foot nothing sixteen year old, he hated it. His friends were all nearly six foot, some taller than that, and he wasn't.

Lando knocked on his bedroom door. Booby normally left it open, but he was gaming with his friends so his mother had shut his door since, like his father, he tended to get a little loud.

"Yeah?" Bobby shouted as he pulled his headset off.

Lando pushed open his bedroom door and walked in. Bobby paused his game (it was call of duty - he didn't pause but hid somewhere on the map, a map that Lando remembered playing several years before) and spun in his gaming chair to face his dad.

"Hey, Bob," Lando said, trying to keep things light. Bobby raised his eyebrows at his dad. He just wanted to get back to his game. "Your mum and I have been talking."

Bobby's neutral expression dropped into a frown. "Fuuuuuck," he groaned as he leaned back in his seat. "What did she tell you?" His head was still against the back of the gaming chair as he looked at his dad.

"She told me that... you don't feel great about your height."

Bobby didn't say anything. He simply looked at his dad. How to you admit that you're insecure about your height to the person you inherited it from?

"I used to be insecure about my height," Lando admitted, linking his fingers together. "When I was a kid I really cared about what people thought about me and my height. My friends at school were all tall and I wasn't. I was really embarrassed when I was at school."

Bobby let out a groan. "Seriously dad, do we have to do this?"

"Just listen," said Lando. "I tried not to care, but I really did. Even in my 20's I still cared. But Then I met your mum. She made me realise that nobody cared about my height. It was all in my head and nobody cared but me. Your mum is taller than me in heels, and that made me insecure at our first FIA prize gala, but I realised I shouldn't care so much. I might be three apples tall, but nobody cares but me."

"Okay, I get it," said Bobby as he turned back to his game. His controller had turned off and he pressed the button to turn it on.

Lando stood and laid his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "I just don't want you to wait until your twenties to realise this."

It may not have looked like Bobby was listening, but he was. He took in what his dad was saying, and stopped caring about his height. It made him a lot happier, his friends could tell, his family could tell.

Robert Norris was three apples tall, just like his dad.

[blondieeu]

Would you be okay writing some sfw & nsfw on what it would be like dating Connie? I know the reader is married, but he just interests me so much. I love how you based him on Rio, he’s my favorite.

i’m so passionate about connie being based off rio too it’s ok i love writing for him

been away. connie (constance) s.

“you good?”

and you’d just look at him. a moment for the two of you to be vulnerable together in a car you had no business being in, about to smoke a blunt you shouldn’t have been smoking, with someone you especially had absolutely no business being with.

“what’s wrong”

“can’t park here, my husband could see.“

he laughed, starting the engine as loud as he could while he looked at you, a bored expression. his eyes were low and his lips almost sparkled in the moonlight from the lip gloss you kissed him hello with.

“your husband mama?”

“yes!”

constance wore a white wife beater and some sweatpants, tattoos and muscles on full display to everyone who say him, but you knew it was only for you.

his prized gold chain laid across his collar bone. said his mother gave it to him when he was little. his car smelled like him too, the car you helped him pick out at the dealership. smelled like the color navy blue, if that made sense.

“yea ok. tell him your real man s’ takin’ you out.”

and he’d pass you the blunt, tattooed fingers grazing against your untouched ones and handing you a lighter before putting the car in drive and pulling off.

constance hated your husband, maybe you did too. he never listened and was always out, giving you the freedom to do the same. you weren’t a monster though, not like you didn’t care for him, just didn’t love him.

you loved constance— or as you knew him, connie. you knew you loved him when you started to worry about him when he told you he was ‘goin to make a play’ in the middle of the night. or at the point where you’d think about him, regardless of you being in a bed with a whole other man, your husband.

“where we going connie?”

“same place we go everytime girl. unless you want me to fuck you in this car.”

you squirmed in the passenger seat at the thought. wouldn’t be the first time but he could never not make you hot at the thought of having sex with him again, always gave you butterflies. made you feel like a virgin again. it wasn’t always about sex with him though, he was real with you.

when you got to his house it was like clockwork, order food, take a shower, put on some of his clothes and eat together. eventually deciding to eat in the living room and watch some bullshit show you’d been obsessed with recently.

so here the two of you sat. you laying with your head in his lap, and him with his hand rubbing on your butt and the other with the remote.

his house was like a second home to you, he said it was your home too. could come whenever you wanted to, move in if you wanted. got you a copy of the house keys, front door and mailbox.

“gotta move if you don’t wan’ fuck right now, you keep rubbin’ onnit.”

and again, like clockwork you’d work his sweatpants and then his boxers off to pull out his lengthy cock. he had a tan shaft with a pretty pink tip. connie always got so hard for you.

you wrapped both your hands around him but it still wasn’t enough to cover the whole thing. starting off you kissed the side of it, making sure to do it on both sides and even on the top before you took him all the way down into your throat.

connie would moan, head rolling and a tatted hand coming to push all of your hair up into the messiest ponytail you’d ever had. your free hand rubbing up connie’s tan stomach, pushing his wife beater up.

“fuck baby”

with your head bobbing at a decent pace, tongue flicking around his pink tip and getting a faint taste of his pre-cum. the sound of your boyfriends moans drowning out the tv show.

“want you to put it in connie”

you whispered as you let your head come down from his cock, still stroking while you looked up at him. his eyes were a little red from the blunt you smoked earlier. the tv illuminating his rough features, like the small scares on his face.

“so take your panties off then mama”

blondieeu xx

[icequeenlila]

oblivious Vander x jealous Silco

“See those girls over there? They seem plenty interested”, Silco said, taking another sip from his drink.

He had to switch to beer like half an hour ago, because working in the mines only paid you so much. Vander watched with a chuckle as his friend scrunched his nose at the bitter taste.

“Y’ could probably walk over ‘n simply grab one by the wrist”, Silco slurred, and Vander couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at the way the man’s eyes went a little cross-eyed as he checked the bottom of his empty glass.

It was the weekend and they were both well beyond wasted. They’d come here with Felicia, but as usual the girl had scuttered off to chat up every single person who was willing to listen. She was an extraordinary yapper on a normal day, the alcohol only boosted her confidence.

“Not interested”, Vander said after a brief glance towards the giggely group of girls. “I’m too comfortable here.”

It was true. The booze had warmed up his body and his mind felt comfortably numb. The booth he and Silco were sitting in was cozy, and their legs were entangled beneath the table. His mouth was curled into a constant smile, as usually when he was drunk.

Silco looked up at him with droopy eyes, his chin resting on one hand. He quirked an eyebrow at Vander, the usual sharp expression softened by too much booze. Vander would have to make sure his friend made it home safe, later.

“You’re the only guy I know who’d pass on that”, Silco said, lifting the glass to his lips.

Vander chuckled at the comment, watching as Silco threw back his head to make the last drops of liquor pour into his mouth. He watched Silco’s Adams apple bob up and down, transfixed by the motion.

The cozy warmth that had settled in his body suddenly felt like thrumming heat. Vander tightened the grip on his own drink, unable to look away. Silco’s neck was long and pretty and bared to Vander entirely. If he wanted, he could simply reach across the table and wrap his hand around his friend’s neck. He bet his fingers would encircle it entirely, his thumb placed on Silco’s Adams apple, feeling it work beneath soft skin.

God, he had to lay off the booze.

Vander almost jumped in his seat when Silco suddenly slammed the heavy glass onto the table, letting out a monster of a belch from the depths of his chest, successfully putting an end to the inappropriate daydream he was having.

Instead, Vander felt the muscles in his belly pull tight as he doubled over laughing. He loved this about drunk Silco; past a certain alcohol level, he lost his manners.

“I hate beer”, Silco muttered, frowning at his empty glass. “We need more.”

“I think you’re done for today”, Vander said, his voice still shaky with laughter. He wiped a tear from his eye, leaning back against the cushioned booth. “You just outdid Felicia’s death-belch.”

Silco looked at him, unimpressed. “I bet she would argue with you on that.”

He moved to stand, but Vander hooked his foot behind Silco’s heel beneath the table, making him slip and flop back down into his seat.

Silco blinked at him, then he looked down at the table, then back at him.

Another chuckle escaped Vander. He loved how his friend lost all his elegance after one too many drinks.

“Got a problem, Bozo two?” Silco quirked a brow at him.

Vander shook his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Not at all”, he said. “I just think it’s time to go home.”

Silco cocked his head. “And I think I need another drink.”

Again, he moved to stand, and again, Vander stopped him from doing so.

“That's bullying”, Silco said, tone dry. “I’m gonna tell Felicia.”

Vander was still smiling. “I think she’ll side with me on this one.”

“Really?” Another quirk of Silco’s eyebrow. “You think Queen Booze will agree?”

“In this case, yes”, Vander said, resting his chin in one hand. “Also, other than you, she’s able to hold her liquor.” He reached out, flicking the strand of hair that always hung into Silco’s face. “As much as I like to hold your pretty hair when you need to throw up, I believe you wanna spare yourself the experience.”

Silco crossed his arms, giving him a sarcastic smile.

Vander chuckled at the sight. Silco looked so pretty in the dimmed light of the bar. Of course he looked pretty in every light. Vander really had to lay off the booze.

“You’re such a nanny”, Silco muttered, looking out at the crowd.

Vander grinned at the comment. “Someone has to take care of you.”

He could see Silco roll his eyes, and his smile grew even wider.

His friend had put on eyeliner, like he always did when they were going out. After spending half the night dancing and sweating, it had gotten slightly smudged, drawing a fine black shadow beneath his pretty eyes. It made the pale blue of his eyes pop out even more.

“Your fan club is staring at us again”, Silco muttered. Vander quirked a brow at the displeased tone in his friend's voice.

He followed Silco’s gaze and found the group of girls whispering and giggling to each other, one of them waving over at him. He gave a short acknowledging nod, which was enough to have them cheering in hushed voices and sticking their heads together in excitement.

Vander chuckled at their antics before turning away. He looked back at Silco, finding him in an increasingly bad mood. He could tell by the crinkle between his eyes and the little pout on his lips.

Vander thought he looked cute like that. Again, he reminded himself to quit drinking for today.

Silco wasn’t looking at Vander, his arms still crossed.

“Hey, Bozo one”, Vander teased. “What are you thinking about?”

Silco gave him a short side glance, before looking back at the dancing crowd. “I’m thinking that I need another drink.”

He sounded almost grumpy now. Another thing Vander loved about drunk Silco; no filter.

“What?” Vander tugged at a dark strand. “You're jealous because I have a fan club and you don’t?”

He tugged again, and finally Silco turned to face him. The glare had deepened on his face.

“Sure”, he muttered. “That’s my problem.”

Vander cocked his head at the sarcastic tone in his voice. A down side of himself getting a little too drunk; he grew slow, especially when it came to social interaction.

Silco caught the questioning look on his face, and quickly deflected.

“Usually I have the suitors lining up, and you know it”, he said, holding his nose a little higher. “You’re just scaring them off tonight.”

A chuckle escaped Vander. “What, because I’m not standing behind the bar for once?”

“Exactly”, Silco said with a shrug of his shoulder. “People think I’m here with you.”

Vander frowned. “You are here with me.”

Like he said before; slow.

Silco studied his face, searching for something there.

“Not what I meant”, he said after a while.

Vander frowned harder, and Silco rolled his eyes.

“I have to use the bathroom”, Silco said, detangling his feet from Vander’s. “See you in a few. If you’re still here then.”

“Where would I go?”, Vander asked as he watched his friend stand up.

Silco looked down at him with his pretty, blue eyes, and an expression that said ‘really?’ inside them.

Vander kept staring up in his pretty blues. He realized the booze had gotten to him more than he’d thought in the beginning.

When he still wouldn’t get it, Silco let out a defeated sigh, slipping out of the booth. His eyes caught on that group of girls again. Vander didn’t understand how they bothered him that much. He himself wouldn’t even have noticed them if Silco wouldn't have pointed it out to him.

Their giggling became pretty loud now; another thing Vander wouldn’t have noticed if Silco wasn’t staring at them so intently.

“On second thought”, Silco muttered when he watched one of the girls get up as if to come over. Her fellow friends cheered her on. “Take me home.”

Vander raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Silco turned to face him, blue eyes locking on his, and a demanding hand held out to him. “I’ve had enough drinks. Take me home.”

+

Second Part

Wrote this out of a mood. It ends here bc my sis came in and asked me to play Mario Cart with her.

[wonysugar]

puff, puff and pass | ot4 aespa

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. high for this — the weeknd

synopsis : your dream blunt rotation, except you’re the blunt.

pairing : yoo jimin, ning yizhuo, aeri uchinaga, kim minjeong x fem!reader

genre : smut, porn without plot (sorry)

tags : high sex, aespa kind of gangbang reader to be quite honest—, objectification, reader is referred to as ‘it’ like once, oral sex, vaginal penetration, joint rolling tutorial included brought to you by jiminjeong xx, i’m joking, don’t do drugs yall

warnings : heavy use of drugs, like, they’re all high as hell help (more specifically marijuana) both fem!reader and aespa are intoxicated in this

word count : 1,4k(??)

a/n : the fact that i was basically finished with writing thisa while ago and the only thing stopping me from posting it was the fuckass moodboard.. AND EVEN THEN IT ISN’T EVEN ALL THAT I HATE ITTFJHHFJEJF anyways, here’s some food MWAHH love you sugarcubes<33

“come on, you’ve been at it for ages— pass it already.” complained ning, her voice all whiny. 

from those words alone, a normal individual would think that the five girls in the room, including you, were doing a blunt rotation of some sort. or perhaps you all were just participating in a chill activity that consisted of passing around an object for entertainment, nothing harmless.. right?

well.. yes! you’d be right in assuming that it was, in fact, a blunt being passed around originally. that is, until the other girls (intoxication clearly having taken over the good parts of their brains) thought it would be a great idea to pass something else, another object, one that’d cure their boredom in the middle of fucking nowhere. 

that said object turned out to be your very own body.

“ohh my god shut up—” was what aeri moaned, sharply inhaling air through her teeth as she fucked her cock deep into your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat with every thrusting motion she made. you were on all fours in front of her, fitting all of her into your mouth, watching your head bob up and down her long shaft effortlessly as you took all of her rigid length like the good slut you are, it made her lose control of her senses. “fuck y/n i’m so fucking close—“

then, to both you and aeri’s surprise, right as she was about to finish all over your mouth, your hair was suddenly pulled on from behind. “ah-ah, too late, it’s my turn now.” was what you heard ning say from behind you in a singing tone, visualizing the kind of annoying smile she had on her face whilst saying that to aeri. 

you winced at the sharp pain you felt on your scalp from such a tug, which was then immediately replaced by the overwhelming sensation by the feeling of ning’s dick sliding up and down your wet slit, teasing your entrance with her tip. 

in response to having you pulled away from her at the moment of her sweet release, you saw as aeri’s face contorted from one of pleasure to one of frustration very quickly, despite her seemingly sleepy eyes due to the ridiculous amount of cannabis she ingested, and keeps ingesting. “i wasn’t done, asshole.” exclaimed the half-japanese girl, clearly upset that the chance to cum all over your pretty face got taken away from her and delayed for another short period of time.

ning simply laughed at her before swiftly sliding her cock into your wet, wet cunt. you moaned loudly, as being in a situation such as this one while simultaneously being high just made you feel everything way more than you usually would. it was like all five of your senses were invaded with different, filthy things, and all of those things contributed to making you feel so, so good. you felt mindless, only present to please those that were freely using your body.

you loved every single second, as dehumanizing as it was. perhaps that’s what made it so arousing.

“please— i’m doing her a favor. she knows this dick fucks her the best, right, doll?” you looked back at her with hooded eyes, unsure what to respond.

while yes, ning knows how to use her length, you were quite frankly blinded by the drugs at that moment.

all you really wanted was dick, regardless of how you got it.

so, you mindlessly nodded, “stick to jerking off and watching how it’s done, ‘kay?” is what added ning, earning another annoyed groan from the other girl in response, before the latter sat down on the couch before you. with that, each second that passed was an increase in speed for the girl on top of you, your back to her stomach.

“can you guys stop bickering already? it’s like, ruining the vibe.” said what sounded like jimin, her words were slow, clear and enunciated.

that’s when you caught a glance of her and minjeong, sitting on the other corner of the dark room. they, on their side of things, were rolling yet another blunt, minjeong was focused on intricately filling the folded paper with the marijuana whilst jimin held the filter for her, aligning its edges perfectly with the edges of the paper before rolling it, twisting the end of the joint and eventually lighting the latter. 

“and can you roll that shit quicker? it’s getting boring having ning do everything.” snapped back aeri, a bit louder so that the two relevant girls could hear her above the music, clearly annoyed. obviously, ning heard and grinned at her mockingly, earning an eye roll from her.

“we’re working on it, be fucking patient, girl.” replied minjeong.

what differed her ways to handle you and ning’s was mostly the gentleness that was employed with you; aeri was rough, sure, but she also prioritized your comfort above everything else when you were sucking her cock. ning, on the other hand, was fucking you like she had a point to prove, she’d thrust into you in an almost animalistic way, also making sure that she could hear every single dirty noise that came out of your mouth. 

not like that was hard to do anyways, with how loud and shamelessly lewd you were being for her. 

with that being said, you weren’t exactly surprised when you felt her fingers lock your jaw into a tight grip, making you face the couch aeri was sitting on. the chinese girl dug into your skin with her long, pretty acrylic nails, leaving very visible red scratches on your stomach as she got closer and closer to her climax.

“you’re so tight, baby..” said ning with a groan, huffing and puffing into your ear with each pump of her dick into your walls, all of it causing you to moan out incoherent words. “oh fuck, i think i could do you for hours on end—”

when you actually concentrated on the girl in front of you, you noticed how no longer upset she seemed about being denied her orgasm, but more so impatient to have you all to herself again. she watched you attentively as she stroked her own dick, wishing she was the one to stretch your pussy out instead of it being done by the annoying and cocky girl that was behind you, ning. 

those two are very close, so it’s very natural for them to take basically everything as a competition.

then, as if to prevent you from looking anywhere else other than her, aeri quickly stood up in front of you and grabbed ahold of your hair, rougher than usual, before impatiently teasing your already agape mouth with the head of her cock, slapping it against your desperate lips before bucking her hips into your mouth, inserting it effortlessly. ning was still behind you, pounding you just as mercilessly as she’s been doing this entire time.

you came, repeatedly, at that. what else could you have done when you were being fucked stupid by two different dicks at once, both at different speeds and intensities? obviously, it didn’t take long before they came inside of you, too. aeri’s warm juices filled the entirety of your throat, forcing you to swallow every drop of it as she pushed her cock down deeper, while the chinese girl's dick was buried deep into your wet, swollen cunt, the perfect view of your spread ass obviously playing a huge part in her orgasm.

teamwork at its finest! especially when the two other girls are finally walking their way towards you, stumbling in their steps, all giggly and jittery from the weed, clearly excited to make you take a puff out of their freshly rolled and lit-up joint. too fucked out to have at least one remotely coherent thought, you let them ruffle your hair and get a tight grip on it to make you face minjeong’s pale hand, holding the blunt in between her fingertips.

still recovering from aeri’s thick load in your throat, you didn’t even notice how jimin had her phone camera above you, filming you from practically every angle before locking your jaw in a tight grip, laughing and caressing your lips with her thumb.

“come on, pretty slut,” she said, her voice just above a whisper, “take a hit.”

and you did, you took multiple, even. you felt yourself lose every ounce of sobriety left in your body with every inhale you took of the joint, if you even had any. so much so that you weren’t even fazed by sometimes having it suddenly replaced by one of the girls’ dicks at times and even forgetting that all of that was getting recorded by jimin. 

once that blunt was finished, they simply thought it’d be funny to have you crawl around on the floor like a desperate little whore that’s trying to get her throat used like it deserves to be, you took them, turn by turn, getting their mixed loads all over your mouth and throat, turn by turn. 

unfortunately for you, you couldn’t remember what it was that happened afterwards, all you know now is that your head hurts like a bitch and that your legs feel like you went to the gym for a week straight with no breaks. 

with that information, it was needless to say that you definitely got passed and used around by the other girls like you wanted for the rest of that long and hazy night.

[0mg-bird]

i would love it if you did a fic about bob finally introducing his shyer!girlfriend to the daggers! cute teasing, fluff, all the works <3

unrelated, but would you ever consider making a masterlist?

Hi! Thank you for the ask! And yes, I will be working on a master list soon, it just takes too much work for me to do as of this moment 😭. Bear with me y’all! I’m new at this! Anyway, here’s the story, hope you don’t hate it <3

Bob Floyd x Shy!Girlfriend Reader

“No.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Absolutely not, Robert.”

Bob sighed, leaning against the door while he watched you comb your hair. He’d brought up the idea he’d been toying with all day, only to get the answer he suspected he was going to get from you.

“Honey, it won’t be horrible. Look, the squad wants to meet you, and I want to introduce you to them."

He's hard to resist, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his. You understood his reasoning, but the idea of being surrounded on the beach with a bunch of cocky aviators...well, that was something you didn't really like the idea of.

You groan, looking at his reflection in the mirror before fully turning to face him. You give him a pouty look, one that makes him come forward and hold your face in his hands. "They're not gonna like me." You say, muffled from the way your cheeks are squished in his hold.

"Yes they will." He says.

"I'm boring."

"Your the most interesting thing in the world, honey."

He was always so sweet with his words, he calms your nerves every time. You know it means something to him to have his squad know who his girl is, so you try and be brave, pushing your worry out of your mind. You smile reassuringly. "Okay." You say. "It's a date."

Bob smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips, then your forehead. "It'll be a good day, I promise."

As you get into his bed, surrounded by the scent of him, he pulls you closer. "Maybe then they'll stop saying I'll never get laid." He states, making you look at him with disbelief.

"What, are we in middle school?" You ask.

He lightly chuckles. "You're gonna see the level of immaturity these guys have on Saturday, then you'll understand."

And when Saturday came, you gripped onto his hand like your life depended on it. You wore a white baby doll dress over your bikini, your sandals in your hand as you walked across the sand. As the two of you come closer, you see the group of pilots all gathered, setting up camp.

"Well, look who showed up." One of them call out as you come to join them.

You immediately blush at the amount of eyes on you They all look you over, almost like they were detectives and you were a case they needed to crack. You get introduced to them and quickly come to learn just what Bob meant, this group of the best fighter pilots in North America were no better than kids.

"I uh, I brought some snacks if y'all want some." You say, laying out multiple floral tupperware containers that were filled with homemade goods. Immediately, the boys were on it, fighting over who got what. They reminded you of seagulls.

Natasha, who was the most excited to meet the girl who Bob spoke about non stop, is yelling at the boys to mind their manners. "You wouldn't even think they were functioning adults." She jokes, making you smile.

You wait till the last minute to take your cover off, looking at the well built bodies around you made you retreat to modesty as a defense. You didn't put on your usual bathing suit because Bob said you should wear his favorite one. One that showed more skin, one that drew more attention to you. Stupidly, you agreed with him and put it on. You regret that decision now.

"Aren't you hot?" Nat asks as she pulls her tank top off.

"Oh no, I'm good." You say, giving her an awkward smile and then dig in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen.

You didn't really think it'd be embarrassing to pursue the routine you always have with Bob when you come to the beach, so as he, Hangman, Coyote and Rooster stand, talking about something way above your pay grade, you come to Bob's side. You try not to interrupt their conversation, but words slowly start to slow and they get distracted by the way you pull Bob's glasses off his face. You squirt some of the sunscreen out and into your hands, then you gently apply it to his face. The three others stop and watch, faces full of amusement as you make sure he has an even coverage. Bob doesn't mind, he was never one to be embarrassed of the loving acts you do for him, so you find it strange when you turn around and see the guys watching you.

"That's awfully sweet of you." Coyote comments, and you make the mistake of taking him literally.

"Bob, do you get your mom to fly in and do it for you when she's not around or do you just risk the sunburn?" Hangman teases, making the other two laugh.

You look at the tall aviator. "Sunscreens important, Jake, do you need some? I could help you with it or I'm sure your boyfriend here could do it for you." You say, motioning to Coyote.

Rooster bursts with laughter, wheezing at the joke you make, and behind you, Bob stands with a proud and smug look on his face.

Jake fumbles with his words, in disbelief that you’re being outspoken.

Back at your beach blanket, you clip your hair up and look around, making sure no eyes were directly on you as you pull your dress off and drop it into your bag. Any previous jokes that some of the boys made about Bob finding a goody-two-shoes for a girlfriend, are immediately regretted when they see how great you look in a bikini.

Payback looks ultimately confused. "Anyone else wondering how Baby on Board gets to sleep with a girl like that?" He asks out of ear shot from you.

"Probably because he's not a total dick like you are." Nat suggests.

"Bobby?" You get his attention as you lay on the blanket, holding up the sunscreen, silently asking him to get your back so you can tan for awhile.

At the sound of the name, some of the boys laugh, making you blush.

"Hey, Bobby, will you get my back next?" Fanboy teases, making Bob glare as he sits beside you. "Did he just glare at me?" He asks, in utter disbelief that Bob was capable of it.

Bob undoes the back of your suit, gently running his hands over your bare skin. "Are you good here for awhile? We're gonna play a game of dog fight football." He asks.

You turn your head to look at him. "I'll survive."

He ties your suit back together, then meets your lips as you lean up to kiss him.

It was peaceful, laying and watching the aviators goof around, running up and down the beach. You had no idea that the questions being asked between plays were all about you.

"What'd you do in order to win her over?" Rooster asks, grunting as he throws the football.

"I'm still trying to figure that out." Bob huffs, blocking Fanboy so he can't intercept.

"She's cute, doesn't talk much though." Fanboy adds.

"She does, just not to people she barely knows." Bob defends.

As Hangman runs by, he pauses. "Be honest with us, Bobby, you ever get bored of her?"

Bob looks at him like he's crazy. "Never. One of these days, Hangman, you'll learn that crazy bar girls don't make girlfriends. Maybe my girl's shy but she's a whole lot better than whatever new girl you can't make stick around."

The ones around them laugh at Hangman getting called out for the second time today.

"Jokes aside." Rooster says. "I'm happy for you, man, she seems good to you."

Bob looks back at you lazily reading a book, your feet kicking back and fourth in the air behind you. "Yeah, I really like her...actually I'm gonna ask her to move in."

They all gasp.

"We'll say a prayer for you man." Coyote shakes his head.

At some point, you had rolled onto you back and let your hair down, sunglasses on your face as you rest your eyes. Though, your sun is covered by a shadow after a while. You open our eyes, gazing up at the man who's standing above you. You prop yourself up on your elbows.

"Hi." You grin, watching as Bob pulls his sweaty shirt off, revealing his toned upper body. You move your sunglasses down your nose to get a better look, then take them off entirely.

"Hey, you ready to go into the water?" He asks, making you shake your head.

"I'm good on dry land, sailor."

Bob gives you a smirk. "Now, that's just not going to do."

"I'm okay here, Bobby, go have fun with your squad, they're already in the water." You say.

"So you want me to join them and leave you here?" He asks, making you nod in agreement.

He hums, pausing before leaning down and scooping you into his arms. You gasp, flailing in his hold but his grip is too strong. "Bobby, no! Put me down!"

"Not a chance."

You form a death grip, arms holding tightly around his neck as he makes it to the water with you. "Don't do this." You laugh loudly.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

"No! Bobby!"

He loosens his grip, pretending to drop you, making you yell and tighten your grip around him even more. The dagger squad starts chanting ‘overboard’, and you feel the cool water slosh up against you as Bob walks further in.

“Bobby!”

“One.”

“No, baby, please.”

“Two.”

“Robert Floyd!”

“Three!”

He falls sideways into the water with you, making you sink under before you pop back up, wiping your eyes. You can’t help but laugh, splashing him as he pops up in front of you.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

He grins boyishly. “Sorry, honey.”

The squad watches as the two of you swim beside each other.

“So…Bob is getting laid.” Coyote says.

“He’s the only one who is.” Rooster adds.

[floswife]

SORE LOSER - T.N X READER

Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Theodore and Y/n learn how to better focus their hate for each other

Warnings: SMUT, oral, dubcon..?

Author’s notes: this is my first time writing smut so I honestly apologise for how inevitably bad this will be 💀

Y/n didn’t know what it was about seeing the anger flash before Theo’s eyes when she’d taunt him, but it honestly was her main motivation when competing against him.

Like now in this quidditch match as she threw the quaffle threw the goal hoops once more, she had to turn to look at Theo for a split second just for the sake of rubbing salt into the wound. She would like to lie and say she was ashamed of her pettiness but what’s the point in that?

She had been out to get him ever since he made her cauldron explode in potions, which prompted Snape to hate her even more than he usually did with Gryffindors. Which was quite a feat, she wasn’t on a Harry Potter level of hatred but on the other hand Snape didn’t have a perpetual hard on for her mother either so that probably helped her too.

In hindsight it was a petty reason to name someone your sworn enemy, but his smug smile when he saw her turn to glare at him was enough to set her eleven year old brain off. Plus she just really liked being a hater for no reason.

After successfully winning the game she went over to Theo who was leaning against the wall, looking like a kicked puppy, she couldn’t lie, seeing him like that really did numbers on her but she wasn’t about to let that get in the way of her favourite thing to do with Theo, gloat.

“How does it feel to lose yet again, Nott?” She called out cheerily, the broad grin he loved hated so much painted across her face.

He groaned in annoyance at the sound of her voice, “leave me alone, l/n, I’m not in the mood.”

He had always been a sore loser, she laughed in amusement “or what? I’m sorry but the last I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Theo glared at her as she stood in front of him, both of them still in their quidditch uniforms, he towered over her but she did well to push that thought to the back of her mind as she had been doing ever since he annoyingly hit a growth spurt in third year. She remembered how ranted about it to her friends later on, pretending to ignore her friends knowing smirks as she’d feel a rosy blush rise to her cheeks every time she had to crane her neck to meet his cold gaze.

“Why do you always have to be such a brat?” He sneered at the girl.

“Oh I’m the brat? I’m not the one sulking like a child because I lost a match.” Y/n’s continuous retorts just made him snap.

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to follow after him, practically dragging her, and took her under the quidditch stands.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She rubbed her wrist in annoyance at his harsh grip.

“I’m gonna teach you how to shut up.” He pushed her down to her knees and she looked up at him in shock, she looked forward and saw the prominent tent in his trousers, “now be a good girl and listen to me for once.” His voice was slightly whiny as he said that, like he was begging her.

Y/n gulped, really beginning to question her morals, but all her internal monologue silenced when he unzipped his trousers and freed his member from its constraints with a throaty groan, wetness pooled between her legs at the sound and just the sight of his pretty cock. Merlin he was big.

He rubbed the tip along her lips, the salty taste of his precum invaded her tastebuds.

“Open your mouth and put that mouth to good use.” He demanded, she did as she was told and tentatively kitten licked the tip, he threw his head back in satisfaction and let out a whimper? She then wrapped her mouth around his tip and sucked.

He moaned her name out even louder, making her moan around his cock at the sound, she took as much of him down her throat as possible, she gagged when he hit the back of her throat but she powered through, bobbing her head up and down and using her hand to pump at the parts of his shaft that couldn’t fit in her mouth.

“Fuck! Just like that. Taking me so well.”

He was groaning loudly, and she suddenly gained awareness that they weren’t exactly in the most private of places, she tried to pull away to tell him to shut up but he just wrapped a hand in her hair and pushed her back down, he began thrusting his hips and fucked her mouth, tears ran down her cheeks and saliva dribbled out the corners of her mouth as he used her as he pleased. The thought of how blatantly he was using her as just an object couldn’t help but arouse her.

“Being such a good girl for me.”

He held her head down on his cock and she struggled to breath, he twitched before releasing down her throat, he pulled out and tapped her cheek, “swallow.”

He tucked himself away and she got up and stuck out her tongue to show him she swallowed.

He now smirked, “it wasn’t that hard to listen now was it?”

Y/n was still in a haze as she tried to compose herself and have the decency to at least pretend to be embarrassed and tried to pull away but he firmly placed his hands on her hips and pulled her right back against him again, “Shut up, Nott.”

He raised his brows teasingly and she couldn’t help but grow frustrated at how he had switched the tables on her so quickly when she was so clearly set up for a win.

“That’s not how someone who just had my cock down my throat should be speaking, now is it?” His voice was mocking, condescending.

She get that familiar heat pool between her thighs once more and she remained speechless, he smirked.

“Such a shame, you were gonna get a reward for being such a good girl.”

She tried to gain her composure as she scoffed, “like I’d want it.” She really did want it

He leaned in, that stupid lazy smirk on his lips again, “so you’re not soaked right now?”

Her eyes widened and he then inched his hand from her hip to under her waistband, as soon as his fingers touched her wetness that had completely soaked through her panties she moaned lightly, her eyes rolling back at the contact she was yearning this whole time.

“Theo!” She gasped.

He pulled his fingers away just as quickly as it came he pulled his finger and he brought it to his lips to suck her juices clean from it and he hummed, “so sweet.. on second thought, let’s continue this tonight, room of requirements?”

“What-“

And just like that he left her there, needy for his touch.

She really did hate him.

But he was so hot.

Looks like she had plans for the night.

Part two?