#and then when i needed a hot second to put all my energy into something really really important to me and fall of the face of the world

[echo-riot]

Posting somthing that isn’t sevika???? Unheard of

Anyways-

VI DATING HEADCANONS + a Cute Drabble

Vi is naturally protective of her girl. Whether you’re in Piltover or Zaun, she insists on walking you home, her arm wrapped securely around your waist. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, she’ll shoot them a death glare—or worse.

Vi is incredibly touchy. She loves holding your hand, resting her chin on your shoulder, or pulling you into a hug from behind. Her love language is physical touch, and she craves that connection constantly.

Vi shows her love through actions. She’ll fix things around your place, bring you your favorite snack, or leave her jacket draped over your shoulders when you’re cold.

Vi loves simple dates—grabbing greasy food from street vendors, exploring Zaun’s markets, or sparring with you just for fun. But she’ll also surprise you with occasional grand gestures, like taking you to a rooftop to watch the city lights.

Vi tries to play it cool, but she’s easily jealous. If someone flirts with you, she’ll wrap an arm around your waist and kiss your temple, making it crystal clear you’re hers

She doesn’t care much about social norms or what others think. If someone makes a snide comment about you, she won’t hesitate to step in, fists clenched and ready to defend you

While she loves teasing, Vi has a soft spot for calling you endearing names when it’s just the two of you—“baby,” “love,” or even a unique nickname tied to an inside joke. She tries out the weirdest nicknames for you too, ranging from “Snuggle Punch” to “Hot Pocket.” The worst part? She says them with complete sincerity. You had to veto “Big Toe”

Vi has exactly three cooking settings: “burnt,” “raw,” and “how is the fire alarm not going off yet?” Every date night she insists she’ll “nail it this time,” and every date night ends with takeout and her swearing vengeance on your oven.

She constantly tries to convince you that chips and energy drinks are a balanced meal. If you so much as suggest eating a vegetable, she’ll dramatically gag and say, “I didn’t survive the Lanes to die of kale poisoning, babe.”

Vi sucks at being low-key when she’s plotting a surprise for you. She’ll come back from shopping with a giant bag, shove it behind her back, and loudly declare, “You didn’t see anything! Nope, definitely not a gift for you in here!”

If you work out together, Vi’s that girlfriend who slaps your back and yells, “ONE MORE REP, BABE!” like she’s training you for the Zaunite Olympics. But the second you spot her doing squats, she’s flexing and asking if you’re checking her out.

She has zero chill when someone flirts with you. She’ll immediately put on her gauntlets (if she has them nearby) or crack her knuckles and stare the poor soul down while saying, “What part of ‘taken’ did you miss, buddy?”

Vi has horrendous taste in movies and insists on watching the cheesiest action flicks with you. She’ll quote every single bad one-liner like it’s gospel and randomly yell, “EXPLOSIONS!” during quiet scenes.

Vi is the queen of spontaneous dumb ideas. “Babe, let’s wrestle.” “Babe, I think we should dye your hair pink.” “Babe, dare me to jump over that fence.” (Spoiler: she’ll do it whether or not you dare her.)

Vi texts like she’s trying to solve a riddle, constantly sending random emojis that make no sense. “🏴‍☠️🥊🔥🦖” somehow translates to, “I’m at the gym, love you, want pizza later?”

Vi snores. Loudly. And if you try to wake her up, she’ll grumble something like, “Shut up, babe. I’m fighting shimmer thugs in my dream.” She also steals all the blankets and leaves you clinging to the corner of the bed like it’s a survival raft.

If she gets the tiniest injury, she’ll act like she’s on her deathbed. “Babe, I think my pinky’s broken. You might need to kiss it better. No, wait, kiss my whole hand. Actually, better make it both hands—just in case.” (Only for you though.)

Vi loves hitting you with the dumbest pickup lines imaginable. “Are you shimmer? ‘Cause you’ve got me addicted, babe.” She’ll then smirk like she’s the smoothest person alive.

————————————————————————____________________________________________

You sat at a table in the corner of The Last Drop, sipping on your drink while Vi sulked dramatically next to you. She had her chin propped on her hand, eyes darting to a group across the room. You followed her gaze to a couple of young women laughing and glancing in your direction.

“Vi, they’re not even looking at me anymore,” you whispered, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, they were looking, alright,” Vi grumbled, narrowing her eyes. “I saw it. That one in the green? She was trying to undress you with her eyes. And not even subtly.”

You rolled your eyes. “They were probably just curious about your big, scary gauntlets. Or the fact that you stomped in here like you own the place.”

“I do own the place when I’m with you,” she said, dead serious. Then she grabbed your hand and laced her fingers through yours. “Look. If anyone tries anything, I’ll break their noses. Just blink twice if I need to go over there.”

“Vi,” you said, squeezing her hand, “no one’s coming over here. And if they do, I can handle myself.”

She glanced at you, clearly skeptical. “Babe, I love you, but you once tripped over your own feet walking to the kitchen.”

You burst out laughing, making her smirk.

“Oh, you think I’m funny?” she teased, leaning closer until her face was inches from yours. “What’s funny is the fact that you can’t stop thinking about me.”

“Oh yeah?” you said, leaning back with a grin. “You’re so cocky. What would you do if I wasn’t thinking about you?”

Vi’s expression turned mock-serious. “I’d probably throw myself into the Hexgate,” she deadpanned. “Start a new life on the other side of the world.”

You snorted. “And then what? Punch your way back to zaun?”

“Damn right,” she said, sitting up straight and puffing out her chest. “No one gets to steal my girl’s attention. Not even a Hexgate.”

Despite her ridiculous antics, her thumb gently traced circles over your hand, grounding you in the little moment you shared. You leaned into her side, your laughter dying into a soft smile.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured.

“And you’re stuck with me,” she shot back, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

Yeah, you were stuck with her. But with Vi, life was never boring—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[beemintty]

i want to be their friend but they make it so hard for me to do so.....

[cruel-seduction]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Theodore’s devotion might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.

(+ Requests are open so if you wanna request something, go ahead)

mdni 18+

Theodore Nott 

6’4 | He’s taller than Mattheo, and yes, he lords it over him (quietly, of course, because Theo is above petty behavior… unless it’s funny).

Lean, but don’t be fooled—this man is cut. He’s that deadly kind of fit where you don’t notice at first because he’s always wearing loose sweaters and looking like a poetry major. But the second the sleeves roll up? Oh. My. God. Veins for DAYS, hands strong enough to snap a wand in half (or your will to argue).

He doesn’t work out. Like, ever. He’s just naturally like this. Probably from lugging around all those dark magic books and the emotional weight of his trauma (we love a man with issues!).

(He could choke you with one hand while quoting Dante and your ghost would thank him. RESPECTFULLY!)

Has that sleepy, “don’t bother me, I’m too cool for this” kind of vibe. Until he’s pissed, and suddenly it’s quiet rage central. A single glare from him could silence an entire Great Hall—and probably has.

His abs? Unfair. They’re there, but in the casual, effortless way that makes you want to cry because why do they look that good without trying? If you’re lucky enough to see him shirtless (bless your soul), you’ll be rethinking your life decisions.

Quidditch player energy without ever actually playing. His thing? Sitting in the stands, sipping black coffee, and judging everyone while looking hot.

"YOU WANNA KNOW IF I’D FOLLOW THEODORE INTO A CURSED FOREST AT MIDNIGHT JUST BECAUSE HE SAID SO??? THE ANSWER IS YES. I’D GO, NO QUESTIONS ASKED."

You think he’s calm and controlled until you see him in a duel, and suddenly he’s throwing hexes like he’s possessed. It’s giving “do-not-poke-the-bear” energy, and it’s hot.

His smirk? Criminal. It’s the kind of smirk that makes you forget how to breathe for a second and then hate yourself because he definitely knows the effect it has on people.

“Mia cara,” he says, and you’re done for. No wand needed. He just obliterated your whole existence.

Theodore Nott | Personality

He’s quiet, but it’s that kind of quiet. The "I could verbally destroy you with a single sentence but choose not to because I have better things to do" kind of quiet.

(WE LOVE A MAN WITH RESTRAINED CHAOS!!! IT’S SO SEXY!!!)

His reputation is split down the middle. People either think he’s the chillest guy in Slytherin or they’re low-key terrified of him. There is no in-between. He doesn’t go out of his way to make people uncomfortable, but if you catch his bad side? RIP to you, my friend.

Very composed most of the time, but don’t mistake that for softness. Theo doesn’t raise his voice; he raises his eyebrow. And somehow, that’s worse.

"You really thought that was a good idea? Cute."

Stone-cold when it comes to confrontations. No yelling, no theatrics—just a quiet menace that makes you wish he’d scream at you instead because this is SO MUCH WORSE.

However, if it’s for his friends? Oh, baby, the gloves come off. Someone messes with Mattheo? He’s done. Someone insults you? They’re not showing up to class tomorrow. He’s terrifyingly efficient when it comes to protecting the people he loves.

Doesn’t talk a lot in fights, but his insults are cutting when they come out. And he does it with a smirk that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him.

"What’s the matter? Spellbook too heavy for you? Or is it just that your brain isn’t working?"

Unlike Mattheo, he doesn’t get in trouble for starting fights. Oh no, Theo’s the one who talks his way out of detention, leaving the professors wondering how they ended up apologizing to him.

Let’s be real, Theo has layers. He’s the kind of guy who looks calm and put together on the outside, but his mind? A mess. Overthinks everything, but you’ll never know it because he’s mastered the art of hiding his emotions. (He’s good at this, but it’s also probably why he sleeps like four hours a night.)

Moody, but in a subtle way. You’ll notice when he’s upset because he’ll get even quieter, or start tapping his fingers on the table. He’s not the type to vent about it—he’ll just say “it’s nothing” while his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear it crack.

Theo loves order. He’s a perfectionist and gets mildly stressed when things don’t go according to plan. He doesn’t lose his temper, though—he just sighs dramatically and mutters something in Italian like "Per l’amor del cielo..."

(BILINGUAL KINGS ARE UNFAIR. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE CAN INSULT ME IN TWO LANGUAGES?)

A total academic weapon. Not because he tries super hard, but because he’s just naturally brilliant and does the bare minimum to get top marks. He can explain a spell you’ve been struggling with for days in five seconds flat, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Always looks like he’s in control, but put him in social situations? Total disaster. Theo’s not awkward, but he doesn’t do small talk. Half the time, he just nods politely and hopes whoever’s talking gets the hint.

Has the driest sense of humor. He’ll drop a sarcastic one-liner so deadpan you’re not even sure if he’s joking.

"I think your essay was… bold. Choosing to write it in such a confusing way must’ve been a creative choice."

Drinks coffee like it’s water. Black coffee, of course. None of that sugary stuff, though he secretly loves when you make him try your sweet drink.

Doesn’t like parties but goes because the group makes him. He’s the guy sitting on the couch, watching everyone else make fools of themselves while holding a drink he hasn’t touched. (He’s your ride home because you know he’s always sober enough to apparate responsibly.)

Theodore Nott | Boyfriend

Ah, Theodore Nott, the walking paradox of calculated charm and quiet vulnerability. Having him as your boyfriend is like playing chess against a master—except the stakes are your heart, and he already has you in checkmate before you even realize the game started.

Manipulation, Thy Name is Theo:Theodore isn’t one to beg for your love; oh no, he’s too smooth for that. Instead, he’ll make sure you think choosing him was your idea all along.

He’ll subtly nudge you into needing him.

He anticipates your desires before you even say them aloud:

"Thirsty? I grabbed your favorite drink. Tired? Don’t worry, I already finished that essay you were stressing about."

He’s not loud about his possessiveness, but it’s there. You don’t realize it at first, but suddenly, every other guy who tries to get too close to you is either giving you a wide berth or “just happened” to fail their next exam. Coincidence? With Theo, nothing is a coincidence.

(We love a man who’s low-key terrifying but only in a protective way!)

How He Realized He Was in Love:Theo didn’t believe in love. Love was messy, uncontrollable, and entirely too risky for someone who thrived on precision and control. But then you came along, and everything changed.

It was slow at first. He didn’t notice it happening until one day, you smiled at him across the library, and he felt his carefully constructed walls crack.

And then it hit him.

“Merlin, I’m in love with her.”

Of course, Theo didn’t panic outwardly. No, he spent the next week internally spiraling.

"What does this mean?"

"What if she doesn’t feel the same way?"

"How do I tell her without sounding like an idiot?"

Eventually, he decided that subtlety was overrated. One evening, while you were sitting in his dorm, flipping through one of his books, he just said it.

"I love you."

You froze, unsure if you heard him correctly. He didn’t look away, his intense gaze pinning you in place.

"You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know."

Affection, Theo Style:Theo isn’t flashy or over-the-top, but he’s deeply romantic in his own way.

Words of Praise: He’s a master of compliments that don’t feel like compliments until you think about them later.

"You’re too brilliant for this school, you know that?""How do you manage to look stunning even when you’re furious with me?""You’re the only person who’s ever managed to make me lose focus, mia cara."

Subtle Acts of Service: He’s always doing things for you without making a big deal out of it. Your favorite quill broke? There’s a new one on your desk the next day. You’re stressed about a test? He’ll quiz you until you feel confident (and then reward you with a kiss for every right answer).

The Praise Kink Is Real, Babe:Theo doesn’t just praise you to make you feel good. He needs you to know how much he adores you. Whether it’s your intelligence, your kindness, or just the way you look in his sweater, he’s always quick to remind you of your worth.

"You’re too good for me, you know that?" he murmurs against your ear, his hand resting on your hip. "But don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you go."

(Is it hot in here or is it just Theo?)

The Possessiveness Comes Out in Subtle Ways:

At parties, his hand is always resting somewhere on you—your lower back, your shoulder, your thigh. A quiet signal to everyone else: She’s mine.

If someone flirts with you, he doesn’t cause a scene. Instead, he’ll step in with that dangerously calm demeanor, his words laced with thinly veiled threats.

"I believe you’re in my seat." Translation: Touch her again, and you’ll regret it.

Theodore, the Unexpected Softie:For someone so composed, Theo is surprisingly soft when it’s just the two of you.

He loves curling up with you on the couch, one arm draped over your shoulders while he reads aloud from a book he thinks you’d enjoy.

Sleeps with one hand always touching you—your waist, your hand, your hair. It’s the only time he truly relaxes.

Occasionally whispers “I don’t deserve you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

Having Theo as a boyfriend is a rollercoaster of intensity and tenderness. He’s the type to protect you from the world while also making you feel like you’re the center of his universe. And honestly? We’d ride that roller coaster over and over again.

Theodore Nott | Obsessive Devotion

If Mattheo is chaos in bed, Theodore is calculated destruction. Theo doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time. He knows every move, every word, every touch is designed to drive you absolutely insane.

The Slow Burn King:Theo isn’t just about getting you off; he’s about making you beg. He’s not the type to drag you into the nearest broom closet and go at it like a madman. No, Theo prefers to let the tension build—catching your eye across the library with a smirk, his hand brushing yours during dinner, leaning in close to whisper something sinful in your ear when no one else is looking.

"You’re squirming, mia cara. Tell me, what’s on your mind?"

Possessive but Polished:He loves control—holding you still with a firm grip while his mouth works wonders between your thighs. Theo thrives on the sound of your moans and whimpers, each one a confirmation that you belong to him.

But don’t get it twisted: his possessiveness is refined. He’s not shouting it from the rooftops; instead, he’s branding it into your skin with every kiss, every bite, every low growl of, “Mine.”

(We love a man who can ruin our lives with just one look.)

Praise You Like a Goddess:Theo is the king of praise. He’s not subtle about how much he worships you, and he makes sure you know it.

"You’re so perfect, amore mio. I could stay like this forever, just watching you fall apart for me."

He’ll kiss every inch of your skin like it’s holy ground. He’ll tell you how beautiful you are when you’re flushed, trembling, and completely at his mercy.

And if you praise him back? Game over. Tell him he’s a good boy, and suddenly you’ve unlocked the most obedient, eager-to-please version of Theo. He’ll do anything to hear you say it again.

Control with a Dash of Chaos:Theo’s not loud, but his intensity is deafening. He thrives on being in control, but sometimes he loves to break his own rules. If you push him just enough—maybe tease him in public or drag him into a forbidden situation—he’ll snap in the most delicious way.

"You think you can play games with me? Let me show you how this ends, bella."

Experimentation, but Make It Sophisticated:Theo isn’t one to dive into wild kinks without purpose, but he’s creative when it comes to trying new things.

Silk ties? Check.

Blindfolds? Of course.

Whispering Latin endearments in your ear while he has you completely at his mercy? A standard Tuesday night.

And don’t get me started on the way he uses his fingers—this man could write symphonies with how skillfully he plays your body like an instrument.

Stamina for Days:Don’t let his cool demeanor fool you—Theo can and will go for hours. He has the patience to draw out every moment until you’re gasping and begging for release, and then he’ll do it all over again.

"Oh no, dolcezza. We’re not finished yet. Not until I’ve had my fill of you."

Switch Theo = UNLOCKED:Normally, Theo’s the one in control, but when you take charge? When you straddle his hips, grip his jaw, and order him to behave? He’s putty in your hands.

"Tell me what you want, bella. Anything—it’s yours."

And the best part? He loves it. Watching you take what you want from him, hearing you praise him as he falls apart under your touch—it’s enough to drive him to the brink every single time.

In Private, He’s All Yours:While Theo keeps his emotions tightly guarded in public, behind closed doors, he’s all in. He loves to hold you afterward, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings as you both come down from the high.

"You’re everything, you know that? My whole world."

Having Theodore Nott as a lover is like being the muse of a masterpiece—every touch, every word, every moment is designed to make you feel like the most desired person on the planet. And honestly? We’re not complaining

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Please like, Reblog, and comment.

[teaboot]

question i suspect you may know the answer to. I'm in Quebec right now, it's well below freezing and I'm having to stay in an uninsulated attic without a sleeping bag or warm enough blankets. I can't sleep because of the cold. Any tips on not freezing to death? I can't feel my face anymore.

-sleep on top of something. Cardboard, Styrofoam, balled-up paper, a mattress, a blanket, dry towels, whatever. If you're stuck with just the floor or ground then it will suck the heat out of you.

-keep the top of your head covered. You lose an insane amount of hear through your head.

-Wrar all of the clothes that you have. All of them. Only remove layers if you start sweating.

-drink warm or lukewarm water.

-mittens are warmer than gloves. If you have neither, put socks on your hands.

-change your socks before going to bed. Do NOT wear socks you've worn all day, even if they still feel dry.

-Cover yourself in blankets, clothes, towels, WHATEVER, but DO NOT COVER YOUR MOUTH AND NOSE. Condensation will get stuck under there with you and make you damp and cold.

-Stick your hands under your armpits or between your legs near your groin. These are the warmest parts of your body.

-if you wake up freezing, pace in circles to warm up. Don't exercise to the point of sweating, just to warm up a bit.

-air is the best insulator. The more air something has in it, the better it is at trapping your body heat. I was serious about crumpling up newspaper

-Stay as far from the windows as you can, and as close to the centre of the house as possible. Ideally away from any stone fixtures.

-If there is a fireplace, light it ONLY IF YOU ARE CERTAIN THE CHIMNEY IS CLEAR. Carbon dioxide poisoning is a risk. If it is clear, use paper and small slivers of wood to get it started, then larger burnables. Fire needs to grow before it can eat bigger foods. If you have no matches, but the electricity is on try a stove burner, or a hot light bulb.

-If you break a light bulb and turn the lamp on, you will get a flame for a few seconds, but only if you have no other options because this is dangerous.

-if you are with people or a pet, this is a great opportunity to cuddle.

-STAY DRY.

-EAT. Making and msintaining body heat burns energy.

-If you suddenly feel like you're boiling, KEEP YOUR CLOTHES ON. Paradoxical undressing is a symptom of hypothermia. You ARE NOT HOT, your body is lying

-Suddenly not shivering when you've done nothing differently is an early hypothermia warning sign. CALL SOMEONE.

Leaving this open cause this is all I have off the top of my head. Good luck out there

[puckinghischier]

Fakers

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader needs jack to be her fake boyfriend, and it leads to something very not fake

notes: hello!! it’s literally 2am and i just finished this, so needless to say it’s unedited, but i love this fic so much. i combined two different requests for it and i had so much fun with it. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

also i’m starting a tag list in the comments, so let me know if you’d like to be added!! 🫡

request: from my 400 follower celly - You owe me.” “I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to be your partner to get your parents off your back” & “A realizing that they have feelings for B when they see them with someone else”

[5.4k]

“Jack! Please tell me you’re home. It’s an emergency!” you frantically slam his apartment door shut.

Searching the large space for any signs of life, you beg for him to be home.

“Jack! C’mon! It’s urgent!” you yell out, walking down the hallway towards his bedroom.

You twist the knob of the closed door, finding it locked. Huffing, you start beating your fist against the wood.

“Open up! I know you’re in there!”

You continue your assault on the door, stopping only when the door opens and your fist meets air. You step back in surprise, nearly hitting Jack square in his bare chest.

A soaking wet, shirtless Jack stands in front of you with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“God, what took you so long? I texted you SOS on my way over here,” you barreled past him, walking into his bedroom.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not like I just had a grueling three-hour practice or anything. God forbid I take a hot shower afterwards,” Jack throws his hands up in the air, watching you walk straight for his closet.

You and jack had been friends since the second you moved to Jersey, the sassy brunette being just what you needed to make you feel at home in the unfamiliar state.

As you were moving in down the hall, Jack had half of the team over at his apartment watching game film in preparation for a week of road games.

Him and few teammates walked out into the hallway to investigate the loud bangs they kept hearing, watching you try to squeeze a bookshelf into your apartment that was three times the size of the doorway.

An hour later you had a disassembled bookshelf and four very attractive men in your living room.

Jack had recruited some of his teammates, as you later learned, to help you put the bookshelf back together.

You apologized for interrupting their plans, the rest of Jack’s teammates still in his apartment, and insisted they go back to their friends. You told them you could handle putting back together a bookshelf, even though you had absolutely no idea what you were doing.

They waved off your concerns, telling you they needed to help you finish what they started.

After the bookshelf was put together and in place, Jack invited you over to his apartment, deciding they had watched enough film for that night, using the incentive of pizza to lure you. You would’ve objected, seeing as he invited you into an apartment full of strange men, but the pang of hunger in your stomach threw all caution to the wind, leading your feet three doors down and into the strange apartment.

You gained a whole group of friends that night, not knowing until a week later your new friends were Jersey’s own professional hockey team.

Jack and Luke helped you finish the rest of your move in, spending more and more time with your new neighbors as the days went on. You added weekly take out dinners into your schedules and alternating hockey watch parties in each other’s apartments, the brothers insisting you need to learn to love the game.

You can’t deny the fact that you started developing feelings for the middle Hughes pretty quickly, his fun energy and magnetic personality roping you in. The nature of your friendship was extremely laid back, the two of you bickering nearly as much as you made the other laugh. Luke often said the two of you either act like an old married couple or newlyweds that already resent each other.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out, however, that Jack was too focused on living the hockey lifestyle to settle down anytime soon. You noticed the flow of girls in and out of his apartment, having met a few on their way out in the mornings on your way to work.

Attempting to push your feelings to the back of your mind, you continued spending time with the rowdy athletes. A small part of you still held out hope, especially after Jack gave you a key to their apartment, telling you he was tired of having to get the door every time you decided you wanted to come over.

Which is exactly how you were able to enter his apartment now, in your desperate time of need.

You knew your parents were going to visit you once you had settled in. The piece of information they left out, though, was that they scheduled a dinner with the lawyer son of one of your dad’s coworkers that also happens to live in the city.

Now, sifting through his closet in search of an outfit appropriate for the high-end restaurant your parents reserved for tonight, you worry about Jack’s reaction to your – and now his – predicament.

“Jack, don’t you own anything that isn’t designer? I don’t want my parents to think you’re a douche throwing his money in everyone’s face,” you slide each Tom Ford, Armani, and his one Gucci suit to the side.

Jack, still standing with his hand on his open door, starts walking over to you, crossing his arms.

“So, you not only barge into my apartment unexpectedly and interrupt my shower, but you’re now criticizing my formal wear?” he asks before realization shows on his face. “Wait, what do you mean your parents? And why are you so dressed up?” he suddenly notices your floor-length, black formal dress and full face of make-up.

You turn to face him slowly, an overexaggerated, nervous smile on your face.

“Well…you’re…meetingmyparentstonight,” you mumble out, running your words together.

“Run that back one more time?” Jack asks you, eyes widening.

“You’re meeting my parents tonight,” you say at a normal pace this time, doing small jazz hands.

Groaning, Jack turns away from you, placing his hands on the top of his head as he paces.

“What did you do?” he asks, still pacing, knowing how you are and that you’re only ever this anxious about stuff when there’s a reason.

“Okay, so don’t get mad,” you start, placing your hands out in front of you as if you’re calming down a wild animal.

“Oh, great, that’s always followed by good news,” Jack rolls his eyes, stopping to stand in front of you.

“I might have, maybe, just a little bit…told my parents that you were my boyfriend,” you rush out again, closing your eyes and wincing.

Jack doesn’t respond, not making a single sound. You slowly open one eye, waiting for him to start scolding you. You see him standing there, wide eyes and frozen.

“You told…parents…your boyfriend?” his broken sentence amuses you, but you have to hold in the laugh, figuring laughing at him wouldn’t do you any favors right now.

“Yes,” you confirm, causing Jack to close his eyes and inhale, his hand flying up to press against his forehead. “But! They’re trying to set me up on a blind date with one of my dad’s stuck-up coworker’s sons. You know I told them I’d never date a lawyer,” you explain, stepping closer to Jack, testing the waters. “Plus, I hate being set up, Jack. One of my dating requirements is friends first, date later.”

“Why?” Jack now pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why in the hell would you tell your parents I’m your boyfriend? I haven’t dated in someone in…I don’t know, three years? This should’ve been a Luke job.”

“Because you’re my best friend. It wouldn’t have been believable with Luke because I don’t know him as well as I know you,” you tell him, watching him open his mouth to argue. “Plus, you owe me.”

Jack scoffs. “Oh, I owe you, huh? Do tell, what for?”

“When I bought your sushi last week because you forgot your wallet at the rink when I met you out for lunch.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Are you serious? I owe you $20, not a day of pretending to be your boyfriend to get your parents off your back!”

“But…a day of pretending to be my boyfriend can pay your $20 debt,” you smile and tilt your head, batting your eyelashes.

Jack mulls the idea over in his head for a few moments, deciding on if he’s going to help you or not. You continue batting your eyelashes and giving Jack your trademark puppy dog eyes.

“Fine…give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready,” he grumbles, shoulders deflating a little.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squeal, doing a happy jump and running over to hug him.

You realize a second too late he’s still damp and very naked, jumping back and apologizing mere seconds after you made contact with his bare skin.

“I’ll go wait in your living room,” you say, turning and heading towards his door.

“I’m wearing the Gucci, by the way,” he calls out as you reach the doorway.

“Please, at least wear the Armani so they think you’re poor rich, not rich rich,” you hear him laugh as you shut his door.

Just as Jack told you, twenty minutes later you’re in his car on the way to some rooftop restaurant your parents reserved for your ‘family’ dinner.

“So, what’s our story?” Jack asks, breaking the silence.

“Our story?” you repeat, confused.

“Yeah, our story. Like, what was the magical moment we realized we were actually more than friends and were head over heels with one another?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You look over at him, a small smirk on his lips.

“Do you seriously think I went into that much detail when I stuttered out ‘oh…I uhh…forgot to tell you, Jack and I are dating now!’ when my mother mentioned Ben was joining us for dinner?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

You scoff at him, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms.

“We don’t have a story. Mom didn’t ask questions so I didn’t offer any,” you respond, looking over at him.

“Wait, she didn’t ask any questions? What was her response?” he asked you, glancing over at you every few seconds.

“No? She just said it was great and to invite you to dinner too, maybe you and Ben would get along,” Jack’s furrowed brow confusing you.

“Shit, Y/N, she doesn’t believe you,” he sits up straight.

“She doesn’t?”

“No, she doesn’t. If she believed you then she would have told Ben not to come. If she believed you, she would have grilled you with questions and squealed with excitement. She wouldn’t have just accepted the answer and told you to bring me along like some pet,” you note the worry in his tone.

Thinking about your mother’s reaction, you remember the uninterested tone she used when telling you how great it was you were with Jack. The lack of enthusiasm definitely uncharacteristic from your mom. You had just assumed she was shocked, not that she didn’t believe you.

“Holy shit you’re right! She didn’t believe me. What are we gonna do?” you reach down the hand resting in your lap and start picking your thumb nail on again, extremely worried they’ll see through your bullshit the second you sit down at the table.

Jack notices the anxious habit of yours, reaching over and placing his hand over your own, effectively stopping your movements.

“We give them the best damn performance of our lives.”

———————————————————————————

As soon as you walk onto the open rooftop, you think you should’ve let Jack wear his Gucci suit.

The dimly lit space is full of people in expensive looking dresses and crisp, clean suits.

You suddenly feel very underdressed.

The hostess leads you over to a table in the corner, you and Jack being the last to arrive.

Jack’s hand is held tightly in yours, the small pep talk he gave you in the elevator already forgotten.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re here!” you hear your mother’s voice as you approach the table, breaking you out of your wardrobe anxieties.

You give a tight-lipped smile, keeping yourself pressed against Jack’s side.

“Well, don’t just stand there, give me a hug!” she exclaims, standing from her seat, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You reciprocate her actions, placing your hands on her back.

“Honey, you look so good. I hope this place has been kind to you,” she places her hands on your face, a smile beaming back at you.

You nod at her. “Yeah, I love it here so far.”

She lets you go, her smile never fading.

“Alright, where’s the hug for your old man?” you hear your dad speak from somewhere behind you, turning to see him walking towards you with open arms.

Sinking into his hug, you let yourself enjoy the feeling. Getting to spend time with your dad is a rarity, considering he’s part of a big law-firm back home. He was always working late and missing holidays when you were a kid, your experience with him why you always swore you’d never marry a lawyer like your mother did.

“I missed you, Dad,” you tell him honestly, pulling back from his embrace.

“I missed you more, kiddo,” he pats your cheek, stepping away to take his seat at the table once again.

You hear Jack clear his throat behind you, reminding him that you need to introduce him.

“Oh! Mom, Dad,” you turn back and reach your hand out towards Jack, “this is Jack, the neighbor I’ve been telling you about.” Jack squeezes you hand, reminding you he’s your boyfriend tonight, not your neighbor. “Well…I guess I need to introduce him as my boyfriend now, cause we’re dating!” you say a little too enthusiastically, lifting your intertwined hands for everyone to see.

Jack chuckles, bringing his free hand over to push your joined hands down.

“Hi, I’m Jack, Y/N’s neighbor boyfriend,” he reaches over to shake your dad’s hand.

You notice your mom’s skeptical smile, standing to give Jack a short, half hug.

As you scan the area, trying to find anything else to focus on other than your lack of being able to play it cool, you notice the third body at the table.

You look at the man, his jet black, scruffy hair not at all what you were expecting. He was extremely handsome, you had to give him that. His blue eyes stood out against the dark setting, his black dress shirt under his black suit jacket causing them to stand out even more.

“Well, since introductions are being made, this is Ben, Jim’s boy. He works at a firm just a few miles away, actually,” your dad beams as Ben stands, walking around the table to give Jack’s hand a firm shake.

They exchange a short greeting before Ben makes his way over to you, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles, taking you by surprise.

“Pleasure to meet you…” he trails off, keeping eye contact as he raises back up into a standing position. “Both of you,” he adds as an afterthought, letting go of your hand and glancing at Jack.

“Yeah…you too,” Jack’s tone is laced with an emotion you can’t quite pick up on, but the glare he’s sending Ben is extremely noticeable.

As everyone takes their seats again, Jack scoots your chair out for you before sitting in the chair beside of you, taking your hand in his and resting them on the table.

Small talk is exchanged about Jack’s job, a disapproving nod from your father, your mother asking questions about what he plans to do after his career is over, making sure to throw in digs about how young hockey players are required to retire and the fact that contract money runs out fast with the lifestyle athletes live.

Jack handles them in stride, talking about how he wants to get into coaching once his career comes to an end, but he wants to play hockey for as long as he’s physically able. He also informed your parents that his mother instilled in him how to budget, making sure his necessities are always paid before anything else gets purchased, including a retirement fund.

The conversation then shifts to you and your new job, your mother filling Ben in with side comments the whole time about how you graduated with honors and was offered a big city job right out of college. Ben looked at you the entire time you were talking, seeming genuinely interested in what you were sharing.

Once the conversation shifts to Ben, that’s when the dinner starts going south.

“Ben is in line to become a partner at his firm very soon. It’s all his father talks about at work anymore,” your dad informs the table, laughing and slapping a hand to Ben’s shoulder.

“Well, there’s a few other guys in the running, I’m not a shoo-in yet,” Ben responds, trying to knock down his praise a bit.

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Ben, our Y/N here loves an overachiever, isn’t that right, darling?” your mom looks over to you.

You don’t know what to say to her, stunned that she would be so blatantly obvious about her intentions in front of Ben like this.

“I…well…Yeah, I guess,” you stutter out, not sure how to respond to your mother’s words.

“Do you excel in your field, Jack?” your mom questions your fake boyfriend of the night.

He looks up from his food, not entirely sure how to handle the question. Does he tell them the truth and risk sounding like a gloating asshole, or does he play the modest card and confirm your parent’s suspicions that he’s less than?

“Jack was team captain of team USA! And he’s an alternate captain for the Devils now! He’s also one of the team’s top point scorers,” you ramble out facts about Jack’s hockey career, sensing his hesitation.

Your father’s brows shoot up in surprise.

“Way to go man, sounds awesome,” Ben sounds genuinely impressed.

“That’s something to be proud of,” is all your mother responds.

You look over at Jack in apology, the flush of his cheeks hidden by the dark surroundings.

“Jack was also drafted number one overall in the NHL draft when he was only eighteen. Isn’t that crazy?” you continue, not knowing how to stop the information rolling from your mouth.

“Good for you, son,” your dad says through chewing his food, earning a glare from your mother.

Jack chuckles out a thanks, kicking your foot under the table.

“Always my biggest fan, huh babe?” Jack looks over at you, the look in his eyes telling you to stop, you’re being obvious again.

“Well…it’s not just your good looks that won me over,” you attempt a joke, but it didn’t land very well.

Jack winces at how that sounded.

Realizing what you just said, with the current scrutiny surrounding Jack’s choice of career, you mentally palm your forehead.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me,” you all but run away from the table.

You make your way to the small bathroom, collecting yourself and telling yourself you don’t have that long left of this torturous dinner.

When you exit the bathroom, you see Ben standing there, waiting for you to come out.

“So…is now a good time to tell you that I know you and Jack aren’t dating?” he asks you, an amused smile on his face.

Your body turns cold, every muscle frozen in place. How does he know? Has your act really been that bad?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him, laughing nervously.

“Listen, you don’t have to hide it from me. I’m not here because I want to be set up with you. I’m here because I need my dad to still think I’m single,” he surprises you.

“Wait, you have a girlfriend?” you ask him, shock evident in your voice.

“Boyfriend, actually. But haven’t really broke that part to my parents yet.”

Your jaw drops, not believing that your parents are unknowingly trying to set you up with a gay man.

“Holy shit,” you start laughing, unable to hide stop your hand from shooting out to grip Ben’s arm. “I promise I’m not laughing because you’re gay. I’m laughing because my parents would die if they figured out the man they’re trying to set me up doesn’t even like girls.” You want to go over there and scream this piece of information into their faces, but know it’s not your place to out Ben.

“I hate when they try to set me up with people, and I thought it would stop since I moved away, but when they told me you were coming to dinner tonight I panicked and told them I was dating Jack because I didn’t want to have to dodge phone calls and ignore texts, again,” you bring your hand up to wipe the tears out of your eyes. “Who would’ve thought I didn’t even have to worry about it because there’s more of a chance you’d be attracted to my fake boyfriend than me.”

Ben laughs with you, allowing you to lean against him.

From the dinner table, Jack can hear your laughter, turning his head to see you leaning on Ben, the two of you being entirely too close for his liking.

“Well, looks like they’re getting along,” your mother tells your father, nodding her head in the direction of you and Ben.

Jack fully turns in his seat, watching how you talk animatedly with Ben, a large grin on your face as he returns it, looking down at you.

Something wicked swirls in Jack’s stomach, not enjoying watching you laugh with someone like you laugh with him.

He thinks back to all the times you’ve been around his apartment, complaining about the latest guy you were trying to meet up with canceling on you and how angry it makes him to see you upset. He thinks about how you always complain to him about dating apps, wishing you could just meet someone naturally, going on and on about having a ‘meet cute’ like your favorite rom coms and wondering why it always makes him think about how cute you looked trying to shove that big ass bookshelf into your apartment. He thinks about the time you brought a date to one of his games, the satisfaction of seeing you in his jersey almost enough to outweigh the sudden burst of anger he felt in the middle of the game, looking up to see his arm around your shoulders, hand resting a little too close to your chest for his comfort.

He thinks about how he’s always fending off his teammates and random men at bars, not trusting their intentions with you. And the looks that he catches Luke giving the two of you when you’re arguing, his favorite activity being getting you worked up, loving how red your ears get when he keeps firing sarcasm back at your anger.

He always assumed these feelings were a general protectiveness of you and enjoyment of being around you, almost like you were his sister, never once entertaining the idea that they could be more than that.

Until now, that is. Until you’re standing there in that dress, possibly the most beautiful he’s ever seen you, leaning all over another man when you asked him to come here with you. You asked him to be your fake boyfriend, not Mr. Big Time Lawyer.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go make sure my girlfriend is okay,” he tells your parents, dropping his cloth napkin on the table and scooting his chair back.

You’re still laughing with Ben, exchanging stories about the different set-ups your parents have tried on the two of you.

“You know, even though it’s very obvious you’re not dating, I do have to admit, I can see the feelings you two have for each other,” Ben tells you, changing the subject.

“Oh, no, we’re just friends,” you tell him, your cheeks flushing a bit.

Ben gives you a look, rolling his eyes. “Honey, anyone within a three-mile radius can see that that boy is smitten with you, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

You look over at Jack who’s looking over at you and Ben.

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head, deciding you can trust Ben. “I mean, I definitely have feelings for him, have for a while, but he’s not the dating type,” you laugh. “Hell, he was worried about having to be my fake boyfriend, considering he hasn’t dated anyone in years. Anyways, the girls I see leaving his apartment most mornings says otherwise.”

“Haven’t you learned men are stupid? Someone usually has to tell them what they’re feeling. Show them what they’re missing out on,” he steps closer to you, the two of you only inches apart now. “Just like right now.”

You cock your head, confused at Ben’s words until you hear footsteps stomping towards you.

“Y/N, babe,” Jack spits out, anger radiating off of him, “can we go somewhere…private to talk?” he puts on a tight smile, watching Ben step back away from you.

“Uh, sure,” you tell him as he grabs your arm, gently leading you over to a secluded corner of the rooftop.

He stands in front of you, running his hands up his face before sweeping them through his hair.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, jutting his hand out in the direction you just came from.

“We were just-“

“You were ‘just’ flirting with the man your parents are trying to set you up with in front of their eyes when you brought me here to show them you’re not interested,” he interrupts you, frustration clear in his tone.

“Jack, you don’t understand, Ben is-“

“Perfect for you? Handsome? Your parent’s dream man for you? Better than me?” he cuts you off, his last statement taking you by surprise.

“Jack, where’s this coming from? Ben’s not better than you? What would ever make you think that?” your confusion turns to concern.

“Oh, don’t act all sad and worried now. Not when you were over here getting all close to Ben,” he waves his hands around, disgust lacing his voice as he said Ben’s name, “just mere seconds ago while I was sitting at the table with your parents, watching the whole thing and thinking about how much I love you!” he raises his voice, but not loud enough to disturb the people dining around you.

You’re so shocked at Jack’s words that you step back from him, not believing what you’re hearing.

“Jack, I-“ you start once more, but Jack’s voice cuts you off.

“I know I’m realizing this way too late, but dammit, Y/N, that man,” he points over to Ben, “is not the guy for you. I know I’ve just stood by and watched you try to go on date after date after date with men who weren’t right for you, but I think I was too scared to think about what my feelings meant. I’ve ran off so many men at bars its not even funny. Hell, I’ve told my own teammates you’re off limits, thinking I was just protecting you from getting hurt. But really, all I was doing was being selfish. I was keeping you all to myself while bringing random girls home every couple of nights after having drinks, only to kick them out first thing in the morning when I woke up and had a nasty feeling in my chest,” he pauses, his tone turning from stern to soft as he takes a step towards you.

“I’m realizing that feeling was disgust. Disgust at myself for filling my time with girls that don’t matter, girls that I would never be satisfied with because they weren’t you. I think part of me knew from the second I saw this crazy woman at the end of the hall, trying to push a bookshelf that had to outweigh her by at least a hundred pounds, through the tiny ass door of her apartment. It was confirmed when you agreed to come to my apartment and ate pizza while goofing off with my teammates, instantly clicking with every single one of them. It settled a little deeper when you showed up at my door after I had gotten home from being on the road, demanding we watch Quinn’s hockey game because it was time for you to study hockey. It was made permanent when you showed up to your first Devils game, my name and number on your back, eyes lit up in awe like it was Christmas morning,” he continues, causing tears to sting your eyes as he reaches over to cup your face in his hands.

“I ignored it for all of this time, because I think, deep down, I was scared of losing you. I was scared that you were going to see me as this dumb, jock hockey player that lived down the hall from you and let me down easy. I was scared you’d see how absolutely out of my league you are. I was scared to be vulnerable and admit that I was in love with you, because I couldn’t bear to think that you didn’t love me back,” his face is mere inches from yours. “But I’m tired of ignoring it. Seeing you, laughing with Ben, all pressed up against him like that, thinking that I might have already lost you before I even had the chance to have you, made me realize that I had to try. I had to at least…try,” he finishes, resting his forehead against yours.

The tears are fully streaming down your face at this point, not caring that you’re likely ruining the mascara you spent over fifteen minutes perfecting earlier.

“Jack, you stupid man, just kiss me already,” you whisper out, your breath fanning across his lips.

He smiles, lifting your chin up to press your lips together, sighing happily into the kiss.

You match his smile, making the kiss silly and sloppy, but you don’t care. His lips feel like they were made to fit in-between yours, the softness of them far better than you had imagined.

Pulling back from the kiss, you bring your hands up to rest on his wrists, his hands still holding your face.

“You know, if you had let me speak, I would have saved you the speech and informed you that Ben wasn’t trying to make a move on me, because Ben is gay and has a boyfriend,” Jack pulls back from you, allowing you to see the shocked expression on his face. “We were bonding over the amount of times our parents have tried to set us up with people just like this before, and then he was telling me how in love with each other we were. I was telling him how I definitely was in love with you, but I didn’t believe you were in love with me,” you laugh at Jack, the situation comical now.

“I- he’s gay?” is all Jack responds with.

You throw your head back, laughing at him. “That’s what you took away from what I just said?”

“Sorry, I just, wasn’t expecting it, is all,” he says, moving his hands to your neck, pushing your head back up to look at him.

“Oh, so you were expecting my love confession, then?” you tease him.

“Well, duh, you did ask me to be your fake boyfriend tonight,” Jack moves his hand to pinch your cheek.

“So…are you still? Fake, that is?” you ask him, placing your arms on his shoulders, clasping your hands around the back of his neck.

Jack looks down at you, the expression on his face something entirely new to you, but it’s one you can surely get used to.

“Ehh, I don’t know…ask me again the next time you need a buffer,” he shrugs, smirking at you.

You tug on a piece of his hair, causing him to hiss out.

“Geez, I’m kidding. Of course I’m your real boyfriend now. I gave you a monologue, we’re basically engaged at this point,” he jerks his head a bit, making your hands fall from his hair.

You know it’s a joke, but your cheeks heat at the implication anyways, Jack noticing your lack of response.

“Relax, I was just kidding. That’s at least three more surprise blind date dinners with your parents before we to that. I’ll even pull out a ‘fake’ ring and everything,” he winks, putting air quotes around the word fake.

As Jack enjoys the sound of your laugh, he steals a glance over at the table where your parents sit, surprised at the pleased look on your mom’s face and earning a slight nod from your dad.

He looks back down at you, face scrunched in laughter, thinking about how this night was worth way more than $20.

[hoshifighting]

thoughts abt svt who’s s/o has a mommy voice 🙏

(i stalk ur account everyday 😭 i love your work sm 💗💗💗)

seungcheol’d try to act like he’s unaffected—like he’s too strong to be fazed by anything—but the minute you start with that slow, sexy tone, calling him “good boy” or something, his determination would just pulverize. he’d give you this look like he’s trying so hard to stay dominant, but deep down, seungcheol loves when you take control, especially when you use that voice. it’d hit him in a way he’s not ready for, and suddenly, all his confident energy is slipping away.

jeonghan would love it. he’d smirk at first, maybe tease you about how you're trying to “boss him around,” but you know that teasing smile is just a front. as soon as you start with that velvety tone, calling him out, telling him how good he’s making you feel, he’s the one who’s suddenly flustered. pretends to be unaffected, while his mind is spinning from how hot it is.

joshua the cutie—until you drop that voice on him. you’d be whispering in his ear, telling him how good he’s doing, how much you love his cock, and suddenly, he’s not so collected anymore, his breath hitching as he tries to keep up with you. his voice would crack a little if he says something, betraying how much your tone is destroying him. he’s the type to need that reassurance, and the way you give it, in that deep, commanding voice, it’s everything he didn’t know he needed.

junhui’s reaction would be straight-up surprise. he wouldn’t expect the shift in tone at first, his eyes would widen, his whole body reacting before his mind even catches up. “wow, okay, you’re serious,” he’d mutter, and you’d hear his breath hitch as he tries to keep up with the energy you’re putting out. jun would be so into it, though—he’s the type to fully give in once he realizes how much he likes it. he’d end up nodding, letting you lead, his mind already spinning with the way you’re controlling the mood.

hoshi would be completely caught off guard. like, one minute he’s all fired up and ready to take charge, and the next, you drop that deep, sultry tone, and he’s: “oh, shit—wait, wait, what?” he’d stutter, his mind racing to catch up. it flips the switch in his brain. he’d get this wide-eyed look, cock raising up in his trousers so fast that is almost comic, yeah, he’s putty in your hands.

wonwoois a person with a hot voice too, and he knows how much it can affect ppl. he would try to rationalize his way out of it at first, but deep down, he’s so into it. “you think you can handle me like that?” he’d say. but then you whisper something dirty in his ear and suddenly, he’s blushing, he’s more focused on the way your voice is making him feel than anything else. wonwoo loves when you’re in control—it’s just that he doesn’t realize how much until you use that tone on him.

woozi would try to pretend like he’s unaffected, but you know better. that’s exactly why he fins u sexy, because you always know, and you would tease him about it getting to him so much. the minute you start talking like that, his hands would tighten around your waist, and you’d feel his breath hitch. “you—you're really gonna do this now?” he’d ask, his voice weak, trying to stay cool, but you’d see the way his eyes widen just slightly. he’s so into it, but he won’t admit it. instead, he’d let his body do the talking.

minghao would love it, but he wouldn’t let on right away. calling him “my baby/my man” or praising him in that low voice, he’d just raise an eyebrow at first, trying to act unbothered. but underneath that he’s shaking. minghao loves the power shift—he loves it when you take control, and when you use that voice, it makes him shiver from feet to the last strand of hair. you’d see the way his lips twitch, like he’s trying not to smile, but deep down he’s thriving on every word you say.

mingyu’s so reactive to everything, and the moment you drop that mommy voice on him, his eyes would go wide, his whole body freezing for a second. “wait—oh my god, what?” he’d stammer, not sure if he should be embarrassed or completely turned on. but the more you praise him, telling him how good he’s doing, how much you love how he feels inside you, the more he’d melt. mingyu loves validation—and when you give it to him with that deep, bossy tone? he’s harder than ever. he’d start moaning louder, getting even more into it, begging for more without even realizing it.

seokmin’s reaction would be pure shock. like, he’d be so used to being the one who’s playful, who’s teasing and making you laugh, so when you suddenly drop that sexy, authoritative voice on him, he’d freeze. “oh, wow, okay, this is happening,” he’d mutter, his voice cracking a little as he tries to adjust. but once he gets over the initial surprise, he’s all in. seokmin’s secretly a bit of a praise kink guy, so when you start telling him how good he’s making you feel, calling him your “good boy” in that naughty tone? his head would spin. he’d be a moaning mess by the end of it, loving every second.

seungkwan would be so embarrassed, but also so into it. like, he’s the type to get flustered easily, and the minute you start talking to him in that voice, he’d turn bright red, stuttering out something like, “oh—what—uh, okay, this is new.” but as much as he’s trying to hide how much it’s affecting him, you’d see the way his body reacts. his hips would start moving faster, his breath coming in quicker as he realizes how much he loves hearing you talk to him like that. “you—you really think i’m doing that good?”

vernon’s eyes would widen, and he’d just stare at you for a second, trying to process what’s happening. you’d see the way his lips part slightly, his breath hitching. “oh, shit,” he’d mumble, his voice all shaky as he tries to keep up. vernon loves when you surprise him, and that voice would throw him completely off balance. he’d start thrusting harder, chasing that feeling, trying to get you to say more, completely hooked on the way you’re talking to him.

chan would be a mess, eyes going wide as he looks at you, and you’d see the way his body tenses. “fuck— you want me to— wait, what?” he’d stutter, not even sure how to process it. the second you start praising him in that sultry, he’d FOLD, hips jerking up involuntarily, his moans getting louder. you’d see him practically begging to use more of your voice eon him, craving every word that falls from your lips.

[trashytracktales]

Drive me, clutch | LN⁴

𐙚 summary ──── He should be worn out after the night he's had. But Lando is insatiable, and one night is not nearly enough. His need has only been stoked by a few hours of sleep, giving him an endless supply of energy that matches his intensity on the track.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, descriptive language, mature/sexual content, unprotected sex, established relationship, fluff & smutt, bit of praising, swearing & a down bad Lando.

𐙚 word count ──── 2.8k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 1, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I'm new on writerblr can y'all tell :')

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE MORNING LIGHT sneaks in through the curtains, creating a gentle glow and soft shadows all around the room.

He was always a deep sleeper, not easily disturbed by noise or movement. Over time, he conditioned himself to slip into catatonic slumbers, because in his line of work, it's vital to be fully rested. She, on the other hand, has always slept like a bunny, her ears picking up even the subtlest sound, amplified by the quiet of the morning.

With one arm stretched possessively over her waist and his face nestled into the curve of her neck, Lando is wrapping her like a second blanket, his warm breath fanning across her skin in steady, sleep-heavy sighs. His body radiates a deep warmth, a furnace that causes her to shift and almost run out of breath in the cocoon they've created.

It's way too hot.

She moves again, trying to get his arm off her waist while suppressing a quiet giggle when she realizes her attempts are futile — and that she made it all worse because now, Lando pulls her in, resting half of his body weight on her.

“Lan… ” she cries in a sleepy voice, lifting her hand to brush stray curls off his forehead. “Baby, you’re suffocating me,” she tries again, feeling Lando anchoring himself tighter around her waist.

His brows furrow in mild protest while he stirs slightly, as if he can already sense she's trying to get away. However, he gently presses his nose on her skin, muttering something incoherent in a sleepy, low voice. Even in his half-awake state, his thumb is making languid circles over her skin, just to remind himself that she's there, in his arms. There’s a spark in his touch, a warmth that seems to spread like wildfire, and she can feel it.

The girl decides to give it one more try, his name falling from her lips in a loving whisper.

“Mhm… ‘m heavy?” he asks.

She puffs out a chuckle, “A little, but the heat bothers me more.”

Lando lets out a soft chuckle, pushing the blanket off in a swift move, the air in the room immediately feeling cooler against their bare skin.

“Better?” his voice is a gritty, gravelly whisper that feels like sandpaper against her skin after being warmed by him.

The girl gasps in surprise, laughing at the sudden change in temperature, “Lando, we’re fucking naked. Put it back!”

“Oh, now you’re worried?” he asks, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her shoulder.

His eyes finally flutter open, sleepy yet filled with a familiar mischief. A lazy grin spreads across his face as he locks eyes with her, a quiet intensity lingering just beneath the surface. His fingers move along her body in a way that makes her shudder as his hand goes up her side. His gaze never leaves hers, glimmering with a glow of want and danger.

“Of course I am. We all get self-conscious in the daylight,” she admits, reaching for the blanket to put it back over them.

Lando stops her just in time, holding the velvety material out of the way. He leans over her on his forearms, loving how quickly she changed her mind just because she got shy from his intense staring session.

“I wanna see you.”

“No,” she protests, pullig him in, so his chest could cover hers.

“What do you mean no?” he chuckles. “I've had your thighs around my face last night, but now you're getting self-conscious?”

“It doesn't matter. I’m still shy,” she whispers.

The distance between them vanishes in an instant, his fingers running through her hair, while his lips are slightly brushing against hers, meaning to meet in a deep, tender kiss that is infused with the passion and hunger of the night before. But Lando has other plans. On one hand, he wants to kiss all the shyness away, to show her that there is nothing she should worry about, because she'll be beautiful in his eyes no matter what, day and night, and always.

On the other hand, he knows it's his job as a man and as her boyfriend to make her feel comfortable in her own body — a body that he worships with every chance he gets. He loves the constellations on her back, the softness of her legs, and the way she fits perfectly with him.

If he wouldn't know better, he'd say they were made for each other, in every aspect.

Lando watches her as she closes her eyes, knowing she's expecting him to kiss her. Instead, he chooses to study her face, closely, like he's never done it before, taking in every detail, from the tiny mole under her left eye and her rose lips that can do so much damage to him, to the marks he left over her neck and shoulders the night before.

Without thinking twice, he traces his finger over some of the darkened spots, taking in every part of her that he’s made his own — an artist admiring his own work.

“You’re mesmerizing.”

It's the last thing she expects him to say. Usually, he'd call her beautiful or breathtaking, but this time the compliment goes behind the surface. He knows he could look at her for hours, without getting bored. It means that, in the daylight, he is finally able to see something more profound.

She can’t help but let out a sigh in protest, but still smiles in return, “Shut up.”

“And all mine, yes?” he adds, letting his eyes slide down her bare chest, following each line and curve.

She nods, “You know it.”

It’s making him crazy — the way her body lays out under him, and the way he can clearly see the result of his need, desire and hunger on her skin. He’s speechless for a while, his mind filled with one lonely thought: her.

Her eyes snap open the moment she feels his hand gently squeezing one of her breasts, caressing her nipple with his thumb.

“Did I hurt you, baby?” he asks softly, pressing a finger into one of the hickeys that ended up looking like a little, weirdly shaped heart.

Her soft wince takes them both by surprise, a sudden wave of guilt washing over Lando at the thought that he could hurt her unintentionally.

“I’m fine,” the girl tries to assure him, but he frowns, already beating himself up for losing control like that.

He can't help it, though.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

“Don't,” she cuts him off, “You didn’t hurt me, I promise. Plus, I got you good, too,” she says, running the pads of her fingers over the crimson fingernail marks left on his shoulders.

He can hear the sweetness in her voice, all the guilt melting away in an instant. From there, Lando moves with an intensity and skill that is all too familiar — as if he were on the track, determined to put together the perfect lap.

He presses his lips on her silky skin, desperately wanting to soothe her. To continue to worship her. To thank her for existing and choosing him to share herself with.

“If it hurts later...” Lando begins, raising his head to look at his girlfriend.

Her hand glides up to cup his chin in her palm, “It'll be a reminder of how good you make me feel every single time,” she finishes his sentence, finally pulling him in for a kiss.

At the sound of her words, a low moan slips from his throat into her mouth, the simple affirmation enough to make Lando lose it. Her hands land on his shoulders, pulling him as close to her as possible. The eagerness is making him so desperate, wanting to feel the connection in every vital point of his body.

She wraps her legs around his waist, while Lando's hand travels up to hold the side of her neck, his tongue delving into her mouth into a messy kiss. Another moan escapes through her lips this time, the second she feels his hand slightly squeezing her.

As he deepens the kiss with a smile on his lips, she tries to speak, hardly able to form more words, her voice vanishing into a gentle moan.

This time, the race is different, and he is not in a haste to finish, enjoying every turn with an air of confidence that is unmistakably Lando. He seems to be able to read her so easily, even when she goes non-verbal, because it feels so good to have him on top.

With every touch and every inch of him, they fall into harmony. With each heartbeat and kiss, the low hum of energy between them intensifies until the world beyond their entwined bodies disappears into a fuzzy, faraway blur.

It's just them and the need to crawl under each other's skin.

His palm moves to cradle her face as he brings her closer, causing her to catch her breath and quiver. Her senses are sharpened, each gentle touch and soft sound more vivid than the previous, and she feels herself immersing herself in the present. In him. Entirely.

Lando feels her body arching up against his, a reflex reaction when he puts a little pressure between her legs. His tongue pushes deeper into her mouth, his hips rolling against hers, a low moan coming from the back of his throat.

“Your mouth…,” she exhales breathlessly, raising her hips to meet his halfway.

As a result of countless nights spent together, Lando gets the memo without her needing to elaborate. He became a pro at reading her body language like it's an open book, which makes him smirk, so proud he manages to understand her needs from a simple movement.

His lips are traveling south, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When she feels his hot breath hoovering above her thighs, her fingers find home in his hair, guiding Lando where she needs him most. His mind goes blank as soon as he feels her warmth, the taste of her flooding his senses.

He buries his face further, his tongue lapping at her intently, wanting to feel more of her. Much, much more. One of his hands moves down to her hips, anchoring them to the bed as he smiles at the sound of her soft whining — his favorite melody.

As soon as she starts to wiggle under his touch, his tongue begins circling, delving deeper than before. Her taste drives him wild while his mouth is making little wet noises against her.

“So sweet and warm f'me, aren't you?” he asks rhetorically, bringing his free hand between her thighs. “Fucking hell,” he lets out a breathy exhale, his thumb moving to rub against her clit, while two of his fingers push slowly inside.

She uses a hand to grip the sheets just as Lando pulls back a little, keeping his fingers thrusting in and out at an increasing pace that make her toes curl.

“Baby…,” she sucks in a breath, feeling the pressure building slowly, but surely.

“I know, baby,” he whispers, rolling back on top of her to muffle her moans with a furtive kiss. “You're so pretty, you know that? So pretty, taking my fingers so well.”

“Lando, please,” she whines, moving her hips in unison with his hand, trying to catch the wave that she's been chasing ever since she felt his tongue on her pussy.

Lando bites his lower lip in an attempt to hide his smile; he loves to see her losing herself like that only from his fingers.

“Mhm, you take what you need, yeah? Fuck my fingers, that's it.”

She arches against his hand harder, bringing her arms around Lando's neck for more stability. He lets his forehead drop on hers, their breaths blending together while she pants at his encouragements. Their lips come in contact once more, as Lando slows her down with the other hand on her hip, gripping her tightly to gently pull out his fingers.

The sudden emptiness forces her to let a cry out, her pussy clenching down hard on nothing.

“Don't piss me off,” she warns, wrapping her fingers around his neck, bringing his mouth to hers with the aggression of a needy woman that knows what she wants.

The kiss hits like a turbocharger at peak RPM, fast and powerful, leaving them breathless in its wake, their minds spinning wildly like they are racing against time.

“Need to be inside you,” he chuckles at her eagerness, pumping himself in his hand a few times before rubbing the head of his cock over her needy core to spread the wetness.

The feeling leaves her almost breathless, her thighs wanting to press together instinctively, until Lando stops them with a firm grip.

He lets out a noisy moan into her neck, her body making him feel like he's sinking, the feeling of her walls squeezing him bringing up all the memories from last night. Lando buries his face in her chest, trying to steady himself, but it's a losing game.

He's already a goner.

“How are you always this tight around me, baby, fuck,” he pants, breathing wetly against her skin.

Every cell in her body feels like it's on fire, his words far from being registered in her head. Instead, she spreads her legs wider, making more room for him to fill her up completely, inch by inch.

“Shit, it feels so good. You feel so good, please,” she continues begging, because there's nothing else she can do. Except raising her hips to push back against his thrusts as he finally starts moving.

The sound of skin on skin reverberates around the quiet room, peppered with occasional whimpers and Lando's low moans. It's almost too much, but that doesn't stop her from meeting her boyfriend halfway. Quite the opposite. She's aware she's ruining the sheets with how wet she is, her pussy dripping with both their juices. But seeing the look on his face while he drives her it's enough to simply not care about the mess they're making.

“Fuck, that's it, baby. Like that,” he moans, gripping her thighs, partially to hit her with hard, long strokes, that he knows it drives her wild. But mostly because he needs something to hold on to.

Soon enough, Lando's breath starts coming out in quick, hot pants, his free hand clutching at the sheets by her head. His body is on fire, being able to feel her raw and see her face change with pleasure every time he hits her sweet spot. His eyes squeeze shut, the build-up almost too much for him to not lose it.

“Fuck, baby, you're killing me. Squeezing me so tight, I'm not. Gonna. Last,” he admits, accentuating the words with each hard thrust.

“Don't hold back, please. Please, don't stop…,” her words fade at the intensity of the warm knot that forms in her stomach, her legs tightening more around him.

“Yeah? You want to come, baby?” he asks, fucking his cock deeply into her, making her squeeze her eyes shut at the feeling, while her nails are slowly digging into his back.

She doesn't have time to feel bad for causing new scratches on top of his old ones as pleasure meets pain at its sweetest level. He's not bothered in the slightest, too preocupied to enjoy her, his focus on how every inch of his length gets hugged by her walls so tightly.

“I'm… Oh, yes! Fuck. I'm so close,” she moans, her mind going numb, letting her breath out in short spasms.

He hears the desperation in her voice, which makes him picking up the pace, bringing his hand between their bodies so he could rub her clit in a ferm, circular motion.

With that, it's enough for her to let out a string of moans as she comes hard around his cock. Her mind wanders through spaces filled with pure pleasure, feeling her heart pounding in her chest.

The sight of her drives him crazy, determined to reach his release while she still has that satisfied look on her face. Lando starts fucking her harder, pressing their bodies roughly into the mattress as he mumbles filthy words in her ear, that she's too dizzy to decipher.

“So fucking pretty when you come, my baby.”

His baby.

“Yours,” she agrees, her mouth parting slightly at the feeling of his hands roaming everywhere on her body.

She knows he's close, judging by the sloppy thrusts he's struggling to keep under control. But control is overrated, anyway. And it only takes a couple more until hot shots are spilling deep inside, filling her up.

“Fucking hell,” Lando exhales, collapsing on top of her, his cock throbbing against her walls, too sensitive to pull out right away.

She wraps her arms around her boyfriend, kissing his forehead, his cheek, and shoulder, their heavy breaths echoing throughout the bedroom.

He swallows hard, completely spent, running his arm up and down her side, while her hand ends up in his hair, pushing his curls out of the way so she could look at him.

“Should we go get coffee?” she asks matter-of-factly, her genuinely curious tone making Lando laugh.

“After I take you from behind?”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[taintedcigs]

— cowboy hat rule.

pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising, kinda degrading but not really, a lil argument, dom!steve, rivals to fcking, swearing, good old bj for our good boy stevie! reader has a nickname 'sunshine' bc i didn't wanna do y/n sorry:(

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. (wc: 5k+)

author's note: this is just horny babbling. i have no idea how cowboy lore works so if im wrong pls just close ur eyes i tried to research but i couldnt find shit just pls i just want cowboy steve dick. and ofc no proof-reading bc im lazy as hell. no dividers ugly aesthetic bc of tumblrs f ass not showing my shit in tags SIGH.

also PLSSS LIKE + REBLOG + COMMENT TO SUPPORT ME MWAH ILY

When you told Mr. Harrington you’d be more than happy to help around his Ranch during the summer, you didn’t expect Steve to become a problem, but you were wrong, so fucking wrong. 

A cocky cowboy who’s way too into partying and into his looks and his fluffy hair than you could ever imagine. That’s exactly how you’d describe Steve Harrington. Even though you so badly wanted to believe otherwise, wanted to disregard the rumors and the reputation that came with him. But, he made it so goddamn hard. 

All he fucking did was tease you, complain. Order you around and act like you didn’t know how to do shit. And, you didn’t, but he was supposed to be your guidance, teach you. But all he did was grumble and give you that goddamned smirk. 

Yet, you couldn’t fully hate him, there was a side of him he rarely showed you, one that cared, one that offered you rides—it was more of a mumble each night but you accepted nonetheless, one that ended up at your side whenever an asswipe bothered you at the bar, one that offered you a hand on your back when you were crying, he didn’t ask what happened, didn’t speak, just stood there, letting you spill out your guts. The two of you never spoke about these incidents, ever, because he acted like they didn’t exist, like he couldn’t bear the thought of being nice to you. 

You were so fascinated by him, even though you’d never admit it out loud. He was charismatic, outright funny, and had a heart of gold that you only peered one layer of. 

And fuck it, he was fine, annoyingly good-looking that he was a distraction to be around when you were supposed to be working, him with those sturdy denim jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, wide-brimmed cowboy hat with a creased crown, put perfectly on his head. Even though you’d much rather see his pretty hair falling on his face, run your hands through his smooth layers.

Usually, when it got as hot as it did today, he’d even take off that stupid shirt, feast your eyes with his glimmering chest, all hairy and glistening with sweat, broad shoulders as he ordered everyone around made you gulp. Like he is doing with you, right fucking now. 

“Sunshine, get back to work.” Heat travels to your cheeks quickly, and that stupid nickname rolls off his lips so bitterly, the one he always called you just because you were all nice and smiley—even when he was being an asshole to you, something that grinded his gears, you guessed it was a foreign concept to him, being nice. 

You were quick to shake off the hold he had on you, getting back on your feet as you stood your ground. “I am working! Just needed a second to breathe!” The lies rolled off your lips so simply that you wondered if he caught you staring. When he turned around to leave, you guessed he hadn’t. 

“Asshole.” The insult leaves you before you can register how close Steve still was to you. 

Turning head-spinningly fast. “What did ya say?” He spits, making you gulp physically. 

He looks out of the world stunning when he’s mad, maybe it’s a toxic trait of yours but, fuck, the way his chocolate hues turn unrecognizable, that slight quirk of his brows, and the way his muscles flex in pure anger made you rub your thighs together. 

Jesus Christ. He is getting into your head, and you hate that you think of him this way when he is so mean. 

“Nothing! I’m just saying it’s really hot out today,” you hum, the sun rays hitting your face not making it easier on the heat that flame your cheeks. 

He gives you a snort, all mocking once he takes a step closer, making you feel hotter if that is possible. “Well that’s what happens in the summer, darlin’”

Hand on the wall he tilts his head slightly, all with sass that has you rolling your eyes. “Or did you expect the weather to give Miss Sunshine some sorta special treatment?”

You roll your eyes, an act you always did that makes Steve’s jaw clench. “Oh, come on Steve! It’s really, really, hot, and the sun is all on my face!”

“Boo-hoo, princess,” he mocks, tipping his hat, almost as if to tease you further.

You scoff, getting closer to him. “Easy for you to just stand around in that big hat!” With a narrowed gaze, you cross your arms against your chest, like a brat, another trait that annoyed Steve even further.

Then, you beam again, and Steve knows no matter how much you hate it, Sunshine is absolutely the nickname you deserve, eyes glistening with happiness that it annoyingly even brings a glint to his pretty amber hues. His gaze unintentionally droops down to tour lips, so plushy and soft looking when it curls into that pretty smile that Steve wants to kiss you all over. 

“Oh! Do you mind if I?” You ask all giggly, pointing toward his wide-brimmed hat, hand teasingly standing above his head. 

He scoffs as if you had just asked him the most insulting question ever. “Not a chance,” he spits, now he crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyeing you with a dark glint in his eyes, one you couldn’t decide was full of annoyance or just pure desire. 

“Mhmmm… okay,” you hum, feigning innocence for a second, before snatching it off his head with another hearty giggle.

Oh, what he would do to hear that on a loop, admire the way your lips stretched into the prettiest grin, brows quirked.

“Sunshine!” He chides, much rougher than he intends to, but you don’t pay attention to him when you place the hat carefully on your head, smoothing your hair.

You shrug, looking up at him with those doe eyes that have him melting, everytime, without fail. “Admit it, looks better on me.” You shrug, expecting him to agree.

Instead, he just offers you a deep sigh of breath, eyes almost widening when he realises what you just did. “Do you even—”

He huffs, hiding the obvious pink shade thats starting to color his cheeks, you really had no idea the hold you had on him, did you? “God, you city girls have no idea about anything, huh?”

Your brows furrow. “What?” 

“Cowboy hat rule?” He asks with a tilt of his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

A teasing smile curves on your plushy lips as you push for more information. “What’s that?”

“Just give me the hat back,” he insists, attempting to mask the warmth that crept into his tone.

With a shake of your head, your defiance only grows, a glint of mischief dancing in your gaze. “Not until you tell me the rules.” 

“Sunshine,” he warns, voice so grumbly that heat travels all over your body quicker than the sun burning you. 

“Steve?” You hum with a flirty gaze, so teasing that Steve wants to fuck you right then and there, until he teaches you proper manners, until he shows you not to be a total fucking brat and not to roll your eyes at him, until he shows you that you’re his. 

But, of course, he settles on a low grumble of, “You’re annoying.”

“You used to be more creative with the insults, Harrington.” Another teasing remark, and Steve rolls his tongue inside of his mouth. 

With a smirk, he takes another step toward you, when your back hit the walls of the barn, only then you realise, he has you cornered. “You wanna know the cowboy hat rule, princess?” He asks all smugly.

Gaze meaner than he is, chest almost pressed against yours, voice so low that all you can do is slightly nod. 

Your breath gets hitched in your throat when his face is mere inches away from yours, hot breath fanning against your cheeks, skin heating on the impact, that brattiness you wear as a mask quick to slip off when he’s all demanding. “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” His tone is almost a growl, pupils blown wide, making you gulp, physically.

“What?” You blink, unsure of what he’s actually asking. Excitement jumping around in your tummy. 

“You heard me. Wanna take me for a ride, Sunshine?” He is so goddamn close that you are sure he can hear the annoying tumble your heart does at the weight of what his words hold. 

It makes you pause, gaze sticking on his, sometimes slipping away to his soft lips, almost to signal him of something, but all you can do is try to hide the embarrassment that burns your cheeks. 

“Didn’t think so,” he scoffs, backing away just slightly. 

His cowboy hat is too big on your head, tipping low over your eyes, possibly hiding your nervousness as you mutter, “What if I do?”

With a smooth motion, he flips it off from your head, holding it with his palm, away from you. “Get back to work, Sunshine.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I, those horses ain’t gonna straddle their strap themselves, off. to. work,” he hisses, turning to leave.

You huff, heat still burning off your cheeks, more embarrassed than annoyed, yet you still don’t have it in yourself to let it go, you can’t let him have this. Win this.

Quick to snatch the hat back, “So the hat rule is, wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy, huh?” You mumble behind him, your voice failing you, yet you appear to be giggly, and Steve heaves a deep sigh of breath, before fully turning to you.

He halts a bit when he sees you once again, in his hat, tipped low, that stupidly addicting smirk gracing your slightly-open lips, hand on your hips, and all he wants to do is fuck you till you lose that attitude of yours. 

“Stop,” he warns, taking a step closer to you but with a shake of your head you back away, and he sighs, loud and annoyed. 

“Gimme that, sunshine!”

“Nuh-uh.” All teasing and bratty, and grating on Steve’s last nerve. You know this, yet you wanna keep pushing him, further and further, until he snaps, until he can’t take it anymore. You have no reason to do this, you’re supposed to hate him, think of him as an annoying asshole.

But the two of you are finally tethering on that line, the line between purely teasing each other out of spite, to teasing each other out of flirting, you know that, and you don’t wanna take a step back. “Prove it.”

You are all up in his face, and all he can do his roll his eyes, cheeks beetle red, frustration worn on his face. “Knock it off.”

You tut gently, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Not until you—” Your words are interrupted quickly when he snatches up the hat from your head in annoyance, making you gasp when he discarded it easily.

“Get back to work!” His voice raises, and it makes you take a deep breath.

Shit, did you fuck this up?

“What?” You question, entire body feeling dizzy. He takes a step closer.

“You heard me.”

Another step closer, his breaths come out in short gasps, frustration taking over him. “Get back to fuckin’ work, before I can’t stop myself.”

He is close. Too fucking close, and you can’t help the way your gaze droops down to his soft lips, slightly parted open, downturned from frustration. God, you realize how hot he is when he is angry, once again. “F—from what?”

He hesitates, before licking his lips. This is it. He wants, no, he desperately needs you. Needs to put you to your place. Teach you what happens to bratty girls like you. Show you what exactly the stupid rule is. “From fucking you in this goddamn barn.”

You release the breath you’ve been holding back, feeling small, so small under his gaze. Mouth hanging open, and all you want is him to pin you against the wall, have you screaming out his name. “From making sure I show you how the goddamn cowboy hat rule works.”

Your back is plastered against the wall, his hands are by your side, you are caged beneath him, chest rising in anticipation. “Is that what you want, honey, think you can handle all of that?” He’s so smug, and you don’t know what overtakes you when he’s all in control like this, you wanna obey him, make him happy, proud, so you bite back on your insults.

His smirk is dangerously alluring, and you’re under his spell. 

“Please,” you beg, heat finds your cheeks again, you hate the hold he has on you.

He barks out a chuckle, so mean, yet as equally hot. “Please, what? Speak up,” he spits, rolling his tongue inside of the roof of his mouth, lips wearing a smirk.

“Ruin me,” your voice is small, meek, yet it makes him groan. 

You’re such a good girl for him, and he wants nothing more than to ruin you. Fully. Completely. Ruin you for every other man. 

His head ducks down to your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss before leaning into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Goddamit darlin’, you gonna be the death of me, huh?”

You don’t—you can’t answer, you’re speechless, rubbing your thighs together desperately, seeking some friction, a touch, anything. 

He levels with you again, dangerous gaze on your lips, fingertips brushing against your cheeks teasingly “You know what I always wanted to do, sunshine?” He coarses lowly. 

“W—what?” You ask with a gulp, lips twitching with need. 

He gives you another grin, that asshole. The pad of his thumb slowly caressing your lips now, making you shiver with hunger. “Always wanted to put you to your place, you and that damn smart mouth, always runnin’ it for no good reason. I’d give you a good reason for those pretty lips, huh? Use it the way I wanna use it, fill it the way I wanna feel it,” he grunts like he said the most normal thing, yet you’re already squirming, wanting to open your lips, take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, show him how much of a good girl you can be for him.

He has you on such a hold already, and you can’t complain. For someone who seemed to be annoyed—hell, even hated him a few minutes ago, you feel crazy, batshit insane, all you want is him.  

His fingertips play with your lips all teasingly, pupils blown wide, the other hand caresses your hair so possessively that you melt into his touch. “You gonna be good for me sweet thing?”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. “Y—yes, sir.”

Sir. 

Godfuckingdammit. You don’t know the hold you have on him, do you?

He bites back on the moan that rumbles in his throat, instead settling on a, “Good girl.” Your puppy dog eyes glint at the praise, and he makes a mental note of it. . 

“Get on your knees f’me, darlin’,” he grumbles, and you’re quick to obey, not minding the uncomfortable feeling of the wooden floors scraping your knees, or the fact that anyone might’ve walked in, the door was locked, and there was probably no one around yet Mr. Harrington might’ve returned to the ranch at any moment. But he made you feel safe, somehow. 

You look up at him with those doe-eyes again, making him suck in a breath before he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off his hips, boxers so tight around his hard cock that he grunts involuntarily.  

Your eyes go wide the second his erection springs free, almost hitting the tip of your nose, red, angry and leaking with pre-cum, he lets out a chuckle at your expression before grabbing the base of his cock. 

Same eyes, looking up at him all hungrily, Steve feels the way blood rushes quickly to his cock, making him harder if that's even possible, with a groan he runs the leaking tip across your lips. “Open up.”

Your hand replaces his quickly, and he runs his fingers through several strands of your hair, teaching you how exactly he wants you. 

You open your mouth wide, just like he likes it, tongue giving his slit kitten licks, moaning at the taste of his salty pre-cum, wrapping your plushy lips around his thick head, and sucking the life out of him, determined, and feigning innocence with the soft gaze you held. 

Head thrown back, heavy boots planted on the harsh ground, he lets out a low groan, stroking your hair all softly. “Look at you s’pretty like this for me.”

His hand wraps tighter around your hair, pushing you onto him, making sure you gag a little and that only spurs you on, making you whine around his cock, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” He chuckles all meanly. 

“God, do you have any idea how many times I wanted to shut up that bratty mouth like this?” He asks with grunts leaving his open mouth, hand working harshly around your head, mouth feeling like heaven the more you bob around his thick length, struggling to take all of him. 

“Those pretty lips are—mmpf, shit—better stuffed with my cock than being a spoiled lil’ city girl runnin’ her mouth, ain’t that right, baby?” You nod meekly, angelic eyes seeking for his validation before you flatten your tongue around the sensitive part of his tip, struggling to take all of him in your mouth. Earning guttural moans, eyes squeezed shut as he feels your soft lips wrapped around him again.

“Fuck, sweet thing.” You can feel his filthy grunts straight in your core, all low and lewd that you almost moan around him again, he puts one hand on the wall, helping himself to better move in and out of your throat. 

He knows if you keep this up, he’ll cum right and there, and fuck, he needs that. But he needs to be inside of you more. 

You keep up your stroking, now adjusting yourself properly to start licking and sucking on his balls. “Sunshine, you need to s—stop,” the words barely leave his lips, he so doesn’t want you to stop. But, he needs to cum inside of you. 

Yet, you don’t listen to him as your movement speeds up, determined to feel his load warming your throat, make him proud, and your mouth bobs harder around his length, making him growl at you harshly. “Sunshine,” he warns, pulling you by your hair. 

You’re quick to take a deep breath of air once he pulls you off, looking up at him with the perfect innocent eyes, your lips wearing the prettiest pout. “Was that not good for you, Stevie?” 

Stevie. That nickname makes his head spin faster, all he wants to do is fuck you against those stupid rustic walls, have you screaming out for him, the whole ranch filled with your filthy noises, no one was around anyway.

“You kiddin’, sweetheart?” He gives you a chuckle, wrapping his hands around your jaw, pulling you off the floor. 

“You were fuckin’ amazing,” he hums, leaning down to kiss you, tasing the salty semen on your tongue. 

His hands are quick to travel along to your waist, fingertips finding their way onto your panties rather quickly, earning a gasp out of you. “Need to be in here first, honey.”

You nod, so quickly that you can feel him grinning into the kiss, his hands are everywhere, yours are more or less the same, quick to get rid of his top, to feel his toned chest in your soft hands, your top is sprawled right next to his, revealing your pink and gold bra at him, breasts peeking out just enough to have him groan, big hands quick to get rid of them. 

He has you caged against the amber walls, back hitting the rough material, making you hiss. Your skin heats at the impact, it’s filthy, lewd, and so public, but none of you even care enough to break the kiss. He settles between your thighs, his pants drooped to his ankles, hands rubbing across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The sight of you so easily submitting to him, makes his cock grow harder than he thought was possible, looking so ethereal that Steve forgets all about everything else. “Sunshine,” he breathes, hands fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

“Mhmm,” is all you can muster, legs slightly open for him, and he almost feels possessive over you, it’s entirely stupid, but he looks so fucking alluring with those dark chestnut eyes, layered hair a mess, and cock weeping entirely with the thought of you. 

His thumb runs over the seam of your pussy, just a glimpse of how his fingers are going to ruin you, and you pulse and clench against him already. Wet. Drenched. And all ready to take him. “You’re soaked,” he groans.

Leaning further into your ear, “is that all for me, honey?” he rasps, desperate, needing your confirmation. 

Heat grows in your cheeks faster than a scorching day in July, and he grins, again, all cocky and proud. “Yes,” you admit meekly, and Steve’s quick to kiss your worries away. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he growls, swirling your wetness up and around your slit, almost toying with you, having you desperately mewl for him. 

He can’t put his finger on it, what it is that draws him this much into you, but he’s hooked, so goddamn obsessed that he feels like an idiot, for being this much of an asshole, for acting like a grade school boy who’s pulling the pigtails of his crush. Like a stupid cliche. 

“Stevie.” That nickname, again. Godfuckingdammit, Steve thinks. You have him so wrapped around your finger, it’s like a prayer, and he’s sure you’re not aware of it. And it drives him even crazier. “Please.”

“Talk to me.” His voice is low, lips now nipping at your neck, suckling, giving you all the marks you need. 

“I need you,” you hum, eyes squeezed shut, desperate. His finger discard your panties and slide easily inside of you, your back is fully dipped into the well-worn walls with how good he feels, his thick fingers making their way in and out of your soppy cunt, whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend. 

“Ruin me, Steve, fully, completely.” You don’t know how those words leave past your lush lips, but your thighs ache with need, cunt throbbing for him and him only. 

His eyes widen quickly, pure hunger quick to fill his veins, mouth hanging open, curses leaving his lips at how forward you are being. “Show me the cowboy hat rule, sir.” 

Steve all but groans, mouth harshly on yours again, chests pressed together and you can feel how hard he truly is, rock stiff, and aching to be inside of you. The sheer size of how he feels against your thighs almost makes your eyes bulge again. 

His fingers stop moving in and out of you, before you can whine, he spins you around so fast that you gasp loudly, hands immediately plastered on the wall, pleasure and excitement fills your tummy, but the fact that he’s seeing you all vulnerable like this is embarrassing enough that you try to close your legs. 

He’s quick to stop you with a grin, rough hands landing on the back of your thighs, spreading them open while tutting you. “Nuh-uh. Don’t get all shy now, princess. Spread them open f’me.” You spread them a little, cunt throbbing with how close his fingers are. 

He groans again once he fully gets a view of you like this, face down, ass up, your pussy slicked with your juices, at his mercy. “‘M gonna ruin you, honey, don’t you worry.” A dark chuckle barks out from his chest, sending chills down your spine, almost making you whine. 

Fuck. 

His hands are rough when he has you by your waist, bruising almost. Lining his cock in front of your slick core, he swipes the head of his reddened tip inside of you with one forceful thrust. Your plushy lips open slightly, stealing your breath away as you try to adjust to his size.

Shit, shit, shit, he feels even better than you fucking expected.

His cock splits you open, filling every goddamn inch of you. You don’t know how many times you thought this, but, shit, he’s as big as the gossip in this small town says he is. 

His thrusts are slow, grunts so loud and heavenly that it spurs you on more and more. His weight on you, the bruising hold. You feel him everywhere. On your back, hips, and fucking inside of you.

“F-fucking, fuck!” he growls, leaving nibbles all over your shoulder and back, even with the fact that this was Steve, and he was rough and filthy, it was wildly intimate, so wildly intimate that you could feel your heart pounding inside of your chest. 

“How are you this fuckin’ tight, s-sweetheart?” One of his hands travel up to your neck, roughly holding you down, hips slamming into you with such force that you cry out.

He watches the way his girthy cock disappears in and out of you, wetting himself with your juices, filling every inch of you. “Doin’ s’good for me, princess.” His praises are heavenly, making your chest swell with pride.

He moves inside of your soppy cunt with short thrusts. Completely bottomed out, thrusting against the same sensitive spot every time as his balls, heavy with cum grind against your clit, with each movement, making you cry out his name, babbles leaving your mouth. “Yeah, you like this don’t ya? Want me to ruin this slutty pussy, huh? Ruin it for every other men?”

You nod all dumbly, yet, it isn’t enough for him. He wants to hear you, have you scream it out. “Say it, sweet thing, fuckin’ say it,” he groans, coarse voice making tingles appear everywhere on your skin. 

“I-I love it, Stevie, want you to ruin me for everyone else, mmpf,” you moan all fucked out, eyes rolled all the way back to your head, hips desperately grinding against him for some more friction. 

He picks up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon.“F-fuck doll, won’t last if you keep runnin’ that dirty mouth.” 

But his words just encourage you to keep going, gasps coming out in short breaths as you manage to drive him crazier. “All yours, sir, all yours.” 

He grunts at that, one of his arms snaking around and under your hips to find a better angle, lifting you up so that he can fuck his cock deeper into you, make you feel how fucking big he really is. “That’s right, baby, it’s all fuckin’ mine.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks, entire body burning with it. The slick sounds of his hips driving into you, your moans, his low groans are all that fill the room. So fucking filthy, and you can feel yourself clenching around him. 

It’s all too much; his hands everywhere, the lewd noises he makes, how deep his girthy cock is bottomed out inside of you, making you feel every ridge. It’s fucking perfect, and you desperately need to cum. 

And of fucking course, Steve can feel your pussy gripping him, so tight that he knows he’s gonna cum right after you do. “Gonna cum f’me, huh? Such a good girl,” he praises, again, knowing the effect it has on you and all you can do is gasp and weakly nod. 

One of his thumbs quickly finds your clit, making your pussy throb around him in pure ecstasy, all the overstimulation enough to have you crying like a bitch in heat. “Give it to me, angel,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses everywhere on your skin.   

His movements pick up, padded thumb rubbing circles around your clit, the other hand landing on your nipples, twisting them while pumping into you, it’s all too much that it makes you sob and beg for him. 

“Cream my cock, let me ruin you completely, darlin’” It’s all the confirmation you need as your orgasm builds and washes through you, body exploding with pleasure, spreading through your skin as you scream out his name. 

Your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, and he fucking knows, he won’t last, not in the slightest. “S-shit, sweet thing, gonna make me cum with all those filthy noises.” 

“Want that, honey, hmm? Wanna be filled with my cum? Show everybody in this town who owns ya? Owns this tight lil’ cunt?” He feels it, that pure hunger for you over taking him, coarse voice, dark eyes, like a man possessed. His fingers dig further into your skin as he desperately chases his orgasm, enjoying the sloppy sounds your pussy makes as he drives into you.

“P-please, Stevie, n-need your cum,” you weakly hum. And it fucking breaks him. Hips losing all rhythm when he spills his warm load into you, twitching inside of you once he pumps you full of his cum. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sunshine,” he breathes, collapsing on your back, both of you trying to come down from the high. He slips free of you slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs, making him grin proudly. 

“S-steve,” you weakly murmur, collapsing in his arms. He holds you down, slight kisses left on your back, delicate in a way you have never seen him before. Yet, the two of you don’t mention it, “let me take you home,” he mutters, a gentle hold on you that makes you feel warm.

“N-no.”

“No?” Intrigued, his breath gets caught in his throat, the look you give him is so sultry that the blood rushes to his cock in an instant again. Fucking fuck, what have you done to him.

“We still haven’t followed the rules,” you purr sweetly, causing him to raise his brows in excitement, tempting him further and further. 

“The rule was wear the hat, ride the cowboy, wasn’t it?” You question with a slight grin, eyes lulled, still fucked out. 

Your fingertips gently grazed against his chest, hairy and slicked with sweat, his sudden dominance fading when you were so quick to switch from begging to cum underneath him to gaining that flirty, giddy personality again. Already leaving him a mess. “Y-yeah,” he murmured, watching you hungrily, his cock already weeping again. 

“Then, sit down and lemme take care of you, cowboy,” you ordered again, shuddering breaths leaving him in an instant.   

Now you were going to ruin him.

Fully.

Completely.

And Steve couldn’t be more infatuated. You were truly his demise.   

[homey-worshiper]

low energy devotion acts for lady hestia

{something i do when i either feel very bad or just don't have much energy}

sometimes veiling takes a tool on me, being judged and whispered about when im in public, so in times when it's really hard i just get my hair in a bun, out of my face

slow down when eating, i have a habbit of forgetting to eat and when i actually eat i do it in seconds, but when i catch myself i try to simply slow down, give thanks to lady hestia

have a pinterest boards dedicated to decor you want to have, want to make

and also a pinterest boards dedicated to food you like or want to make, cozy hobbies you want to try, maybe crafts that you already know how to make, i feel so connected to lady hestia every time i find a new craft i can make {and use as decor later}

journaling, even if i just write one sentence in a week, maybe i don't write at all i just open my journal and take in the energy i already put in it

i feel like lady hestia likes when you write for her, no matter what it is, poetry, short stories, journals, prayer, tumblr post, everything

setting my phone aside and not looking at the time, slowing down, taking as much time as i need, letting my body clock decide when to pick up work and when to do have cozy time

nap, sleep, staying in bed for those additional 5 minutes

treating drinking my morning coffee as a ritual, even if im doing something while drinking, it's like every sip of my hot beverage is a step in the ritual

wearing jewellery that reminds me of her, i try to keep the ring dedicated to her on the altar so everything i need to pick it up ismts full of her gentle energy

letting myself be bored and not do anything, instead of stressing what to do next just to do something

[daenysx]

lovely Hii

Can i get poly!marauders x fem reader where maybe she has been exhausted and busy lately and maybe they’re giving her some space cause they dont know if she wants affection now but she sees them all lovey dovey with eachother all the time and she feels sad cause she wants to join but feels too shy to ask so she tries to discreetly slip back and one of them notices?

Im sorry if that is a bunch of gibberish but i have been awake for over a day now and my brain is fried (i hate uni)

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy <333

(comments are always appreciated and i literally need to see what you think to keep writing, angels. of course i can't force you to send me anything but it would be amazing if you take two seconds to tell me what you think. it's not always easy to keep doing something without getting any feedback about it ♡)

poly!marauders x fem!reader

the relationship between james and remus has always been somewhat chaotic.

they have huge chemistry, maybe something like opposites attract situation. remus is calm when james is bubbling with excitement, remus loves with silent kisses when james loses his breath as he makes love, remus likes rationality when james swims deep in his emotions.

you watch them flirt as they sit on the couch. you're at the table across them in the living room, staring at your laptop screen with exhausted eyes. it probably would be easier to complete what you've been writing if you could have more energy, but sadly you sit all tense and cold at your place. your arms get the chills, you avoid looking at your lovers.

if you leave the table to join them, james and remus would welcome you with open arms. the mere thought of james's lips against your forehead and remus's fingers rubbing your neck makes you want to cry loudly. it's just torturing yourself, but you don't think you're strong enough to ask for love. you need to get this done. you need to think about the classes you gotta pass.

james kisses a line on his boyfriend's cheek, so warm, remus practically loses his mind. "where's sirius?" james asks, remembering sirius leave for the kitchen minutes ago. "is he burning up our kitchen, do you think?"

"we would've notice."

"no, we wouldn't." james whispers. "you're too damn distracting."

remus melts. autumn always brings starvation for touch and loving, two things james is the best at giving. he looks at your way briefly, your droopy eyes worry him.

"she seems so tired." remus says, his lips kiss james's knuckles mindlessly. "should we say something to make her give a break?"

"she said the essay has a deadline, moons." james answers. "i mean, she clearly needs a break, but i'm not sure if we should interrupt her."

it's hard to decide because you get nervous with breaks sometimes. you complain about not controlling the time good enough when you're spending your free minutes with them and being unable to finish stuff at time. you say most of this teasingly, but the boys know there's always some truth in it.

sirius walks into the room with a big mug in his hands. he carries it carefully to your table. james and remus watch the scene, their hands together and legs tangled.

"here it is." sirius puts the mug on the table. "a perfect cup of hot chocolate for my gorgeous girl."

you look at him with the widest eyes. you can't cry. fuck, he's so sweet. he smiles, he looks so handsome with his old t-shirt and messed up hair. you close your laptop, curve your lips to stop yourself from crying.

"this is so nice, siri." you say to him, unshed tears clog your throat. "thank you."

"um- can i get a kiss? i spend fifteen minutes for this."

you nod with a smile, he leans down for you. you only mean to kiss his cheek, but he smells so good and he's so kind- your hand shakes as it touches his shoulder. it doesn't take sirius long to understand what's going on. he manages to hug you before you start crying.

"oh, baby, no-" he says with a sad voice. he attempts to make a joke. "you can't cry for hot chocolate- i'm sure it doesn't even taste that good."

james and remus sit straight with worry. "dove?" remus leaves the couch. "what's wrong?"

"are you okay?"

you nod, they probably won't believe it. you hold onto sirius, he lifts you up from the chair. it's a proper hug now, your skin tingles with the sensation. it feels so good to be touched.

"it's okay." sirius kisses your head. "you're just overwhelmed. you're okay."

you keep your head on sirius's chest. he's warm and his arms are strong, he supports your body to help you stay on your feet. remus brings his hand on your waist, his thumb gently draws a circle.

"can we go to bed?" you ask. separating yourself from sirius is hard, but it's harder to stay vertical. james extends a hand to you, you hold it greedily. they are all thinking the same thing, you'll calm down but you need to feel safe enough with your surroundings to do that. even though they'd like to keep you stuck in their arms, this might not be the best idea.

the bed is cold. it will pass in a few minutes. remus takes you under the blanket, james adjusts the pillows. sirius has a wrinkle between his eyebrows, he gets behind you on bed and wraps his arm around your shoulder. you sniffle softly, suddenly embarrassed by all the attention.

"sorry." you offer, your voice sounds sincerely sorry. "i don't know what came over me."

"i think we should be sorry." remus says. "jamie and i were talking about whether we should tell you to take a break but- we didn't wanna distract you. we should've distract you."

"it's not your fault that i can't manage my time doing stuff i've been doing for years." you say, weakly. "i'm just sick of being tired. i guess i- missed you."

sirius gives you a generous kiss on the side of your head. "you can jump on us any time you want, you know that, gorgeous."

"i think my head doesn't work like that when i'm exhausted."

"it doesn't have to." james says. his voice is like honey. "you don't have to ask for anything. we should be giving you everything before you even have to ask."

"he's right." remus agrees. "it should be like this for all of us, i think."

you nod. your eyes have a grateful look in them, they are undeniably tired, but still pretty to your boys. the bed is warmer. you force yourself to stop counting down the minutes for deadlines. james puts his head on your chest, hugs you as your back touches the bed, his arms are tight around you like you'll run away.

it's good to be touched. it's amazing to have contact with their hands, safe and secure, you can do anything you want if you always feel like this. remus kisses your fingers. his eyes are gentle. they are all so gentle, kind with you, you feel like you'll never break as long as you have them.

sirius's kisses help you fall asleep at the end. he's always bold with his affections, this time he manages to be softer with his lips and more tender with his hands. long fingers in your hair, chapped lips on your skin. he whispers how much he adores you, the tone of his voice hits your mind so well. you are okay. you think you'll be okay, and that's a nice beginning to get things done.

[cherrychilli]

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, friends to lovers, mentions of nudity, brief mention of masturbation (m). Basically, Eddie finds you sleeping naked in his bed.

A/N: Idk I've had this idea in my head for too long now and I need to exorcise it out of me with this little drabble or I'll never be able to get on with my life.

Forest Hills trailer park wasn't your usual stop after clocking out of work but after the day you’ve had you don’t have it in you to wait for the next bus back to your apartment. Your place is 30 minutes away but the journey is sure to take even longer in the current downpour.

Staying over at the trailer wasn't anything new. A spare key was entrusted to you years ago and you made use of it on days like this to crash at Eddie’s for convenience sake. The key came with the promise that you were welcome to anything you needed even if both Eddie and Wayne were away – shower, food, an extra change of clothes, what have you, and you needed them all today.

With Wayne out of town for a few days and Eddie due back in two hours you sink into auto pilot, weary down to the bone from your shift. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel as weird as it probably should when you started to undress in their kitchenette, hanging your work clothes over the back of a nearby chair, rummaging through the fridge in your bra and panties for a quick bite to eat before heading for the shower.

There wasn’t much in it besides beer since Wayne hadn’t been around to stock it. Eddie always preferred ordering take out over getting groceries – something you were going to nag him for again when you had the strength to do so.

Cereal it would have to be.

You located a box inside one of the cupboards, tipping the wheaty, sugary contents straight into your mouth without bothering with a bowl and spoon. It’s not lost on you how similarly you’re acting to Eddie right down to the unruly state of half undress, wiping crumbs off your lips with the back of your hand. If you finished off with a belch it'd be like he never left the trailer this morning.

The messy mouthfuls of cereal prove enough to silence the toad’s croak of hunger that'd been gurgling noisily inside your belly, putting the box away.

Traipsing through, feet dragging, you threw your clothes into the washer next along with your underwear, completely nude now in the Munson trailer as you made your way to the shower – but not before reaching out for Eddie's Garfield mug that sat on a nearby shelf, turning it around so that the cartoon cat's lazy smirk no longer faced you. For your modesty.

You try to keep the shower brisk, not wanting to use up all the hot water but with the way it sprays down on your aching body, the steam and heat combo soothing your poor sore muscles, it’s so blissful that you have to keep yourself from nodding off right there.

You did make use of Eddie’s body wash, some spicy, woodsy smelling thing in a jet-black bottle but you didn't dare use the two in one shampoo that sat in their shower caddy. It might have worked fine for Eddie and his wild mane but you knew better than to apply the stuff to your own hair. Fortunately, experience had taught you to carry a travel sized bottle filled with your own shampoo whenever you stayed over, working over your locks in a lather scented with cranberries and vanilla.

Stamina depleting by the second, toweling off and brushing your teeth takes the last sliver of energy out of you. Eyelids slipping, movements sluggish, limbs feeling too heavy for your own body to hold up – you’re shutting down whether you like it or not.

Dropping the damp towel on his bedroom floor, you intended to change, you really did. You’d even picked out one of Eddie’s washed t-shirts and a pair of boxers out of the laundry and set them down at the foot of the bed to put on before you made yourself comfortable but that’s not what happened.

Still nude, you crawl into bed, seeking warmth and soft comfort, numbed down to a kind of tunnel vision with rest being your one and only goal.

It feels all the more natural because you’re used to sleeping naked in your own bed, much too tired to remember that you’re not in your bed, draping a blanket that doesn't belong to you over your spent body, surrendering to sleep seconds after your head hits the pillow.

It'd still been raining when Eddie returns later. Dragging himself through the trailer, nearly as worn down as you had been, shaking the excess water out of his hair like a dog trying to get dry.

The smell of your shampoo still lingering in the air tells him you're there, finding you curled up in his bed, all bundled up to your neck. The sight makes him smile.

It doesn't take too long for him to join you, following a similar routine – a quick bite with the addition of a beer and then a shower, only he doesn't skip out on clothing himself in his PJ's first.

If he’d shared the blanket with you he might have found out about your lack of dress sooner but as the gentleman that he can sometimes be, he pulls out a spare blanket from the closet so as to not wake you, prolonging the discovery. Being friends for so long meant that sharing a bed was never awkward even after you'd became adults.

That was until the next morning came.

It’s not the stream of morning light brightening from a cool blue to a warm amber peeking in between the curtains that wakes Eddie, or even the tinny smack of his neighbor’s broken screen door gusting open just a few feet away from his bedroom window. It’s the warmth of your ass pressed flush against his crotch and his nose nestled in your sweet-smelling hair that pulls him out of a dream he wont be able to recall later if he tried.

He shifts closer, eyes cracking open, remembering the tiny bottle of shampoo sitting on the bathroom counter. Remembering the new toothbrush placed in the cup next to his own. Remembering the powder blue towel that neither he nor Wayne ever used laying on his bedroom floor.

And then he remembers that he’s not alone.

Oh...

And then he wishes that he was.

Panic snaps up like a beartrap around Eddie when he realizes he's hard – his thick, throbbing erection pressed right up against your body.

Growing clammy, cold sweat beads on the back of his neck but he’s in luck because you haven’t noticed yet, still sound asleep.

This close together, he knows the slightest movement could rouse you. But what was the alternative? Wait it out? Hope to hell his boner goes away? Fat fucking chance. Not when the soft swell of your ass and your body heat alone had him questioning how he could ever go back to his calloused fist after this.

Carefully, desperately, he tries to inch back without waking you but just as he feared, you begin to stir. Your back arches instinctively, seeking out his warm, solid frame even in your sleep.

Shit shit shit.

The covers slip as you shift, your bare shoulders coming into view, eyes starting to flutter open. With no other option, Eddie swiftly rolls on to his back, his hard on no longer pressed up against you but the problem persists.

“Oh, morning”, you greet him through a yawn, pulling an arm out to rub at your eyes, blanket slipping lower but the frantic boy hasn’t noticed yet, too busy whipping his pillow out from under him to place over his lap.

“Uh-hey. Shower’s free if you wanna go first”, he offers quickly, smiling hard, hoping to subtly usher you out because he's too afraid to get up and risk you getting a load of the tent in his pants if he were to go ahead of you.

“Thanks”, you yawn again, still occupied with rubbing at your sleepy eyes to notice your best friend's pale face turning beet fucking red in an instant as you clamber out of bed, blankets no longer concealing you.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look first. His eyes dart everywhere, every bare inch of you on display. So much soft, naked skin it’s making him short circuit.

His gaze eagerly travels over the slope of your breasts as they jiggle gently with your movements, taking in your soft nipples, moving down over your belly and hips, noticing a few new freckles and beauty marks there along the way to the soft curls between your legs.

His erection digs into the pillow, brain dangerously close to fizzing because he’d been pressed up against you like that all night and not even known it.

A shiver works its way through you, making you question why it feels so drafty in his room all of a sudden. You turn back to ask Eddie if there’s anything wrong with the heating, catching the shocked expression on his face.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of your nude body, breasts bare, no underwear. It's a good thing the occupants of the trailer park liked to mind their own business, even if sometimes you thought they did so to a fault because in any other neighborhood your piercing screech would have had everyone within earshot dialing up the cops.

The scream ricochets off the walls at an ear ringing volume, causing Eddie to jolt and lose his balance, falling out of bed while you leapt back in. Grabbing his spare pillow, you press one half against your chest and squeeze the rest between your thighs to shield yourself.

Now he slaps his hands over his eyes.

---

More than anything, you try so hard to push it aside. To pretend that it hadn't happened but it looms over you like a cloud on the brink of bursting with rain.

After three whole days of walking around eggshells around each other it's Eddie who breaks first.

"I can't stand this I don't know what else to do, Can we just talk about it please?"

“Eddie…", you sigh, a gentle warning.

"So what if I saw you naked? you saw my boner!...sort of. I mean, I guess that doesn't exactly make us even but it has to count for something, right? you're not alone in this"

You immediately set your wide eyes on the only other patrons in the diner to see if they’d overheard – two older women swapping pictures of their grandchildren over coffee and cheesecake. When neither of them take a pause in the middle of cooing about little Tommy's third Birthday or little Emily's first day of Kindergarten you redirect your attention back to Eddie.

“Eddie! Keep your voice down!”, you whisper shout at him from across the booth. "There are literal grandmother's here!"

He rolls his eyes. Not mean spirited, just unconcerned by the ladies and what they may or may not have overheard.

And then, even though no one’s paying either of you any attention, you lean closer over your half-finished key lime pie, one hand shielding the side of your face like you’re trying to avoid getting recognized by an ex who’s just walked in.

"I'm so embarrassed...please can we just drop it?", you plead, voice hushed.

He gives you this look of mild incredulity. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me", and the inflection in his tone almost gives him away, prompting him to double back immediately.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel more uncomfortable than you already do. So he doesn't need you to catch on that he's got every moment of your unintended strip tease memorized. Or that he likes to replay what he's since thought of as the best 10 seconds of his life over and over again when he's fucking his fist in the shower.

“I just mean that it's nothing to be embarrassed by. It could have happened to anyone. Who among us hasn’t napped in just their birthday suit before, am I right?” he finishes with a slight wince, knowing none of this is exactly helpful.

And you know he’s only trying to be nice in his own, sweet, bumbling way but you still feel terrible.

"I don't know if I can shake this feeling", you cast your eyes down, looking too close to despondent for his liking.

"Listen I- I don't know how to fix this but I want to. Please just tell me what I can do and I'll do it, okay?"

God, he's sweet and it makes you feel a little flustered being on the receiving end of that gentle stare, needing to shift the mood lest you drown in all that earnestness pooling in his eyes.

It's moments like this that call for a bad joke to cut the tension, right? some momentary and well meaning deflection before you're ready to address the matter at hand again.

Letting out a half hearted laugh, you make your best attempt to inject some humor into the situation.

"I don't know. Maybe it might help if you got naked too", you nervously scraped your fork against the buttery graham cracker crust of your pie, dislodging a few golden crumbs.

It was so very clearly a joke. At least you had thought so. Eddie? not so much.

His brown eyes go wide, looking scandalized, his voice coming out a little more quite than you're used to.

"What?"

"I mean, I showed you mine after all", you tried again in a cadence that was wholly unserious but once again, he fails to catch on.

"You want me to get naked for you?"

You should correct him and you mean to but before you're able to do just that, something about the way he's staring at you makes you want to match his seriousness. The fact that he didn't say no right away strikes you as weirdly intriguing.

"You don't have to", you clarify, adding, "It's just that – well, you asked and I think it could maybe help? to really get us on even ground?”

The words that come out don't feel like you own – foreign to your ears even though they're said in your voice, with your own lips forming them and your own tongue curling around every syllable.

What the hell am I doing?

Eddie pauses. Seconds drag on like nails on a chalkboard as he taps a ringed finger thoughtfully on the edge of his empty plate smudged with faint traces of cream cheese and lime zest.

"Fine. On one condition", he leans back, arms crossing over his chest, smiling wide and megawatt bright.

Oh my god is this really happening?

“...Yeah?”

"You're going to undress me"

---

Part two? who knows. Certainly not I.

[archermind]

I Can See You

Spencer Reid x F!Reader - Smut (18+)

Description: “and we kept everything professional but something changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best if we move fast and keep quiet.”. You and Spencer are each other's dirty little secret, no one in the BAU knows what is going on between you both.

Word count: 1,800 approx.

Content Warning: Mentions of f!masturbation, kissing, PinV, Receiving Oral F, swearing, Fingering, dom!spencer, good girl, dirty talk

author note: okay.. so i tried writing a smut. idk how i feel about it. i read smut and think the things people write are really good but when i write it i always think it’s so bad. i hope it isn’t too bad. feel free to give me feedback! hope you enjoy <3

Stolen glances and longing stares, that was how this all started. You and Spencer found yourselves sneaking between each other's hotel rooms while on cases, searching for comfort in a form of lust. The first time was supposed to be a one time thing… never to happen again. Yet, you couldn’t help yourself… you longed for his touch and he longed for yours. Your mind is forever replaying the first moment he made, the way he-

“Earth to Y/N!” Derek announced, waving his hands in front of my face.

“Oh, sorry” you mumbled, realizing your zoning out and complete oblivious state to the world around you.

“What has gotten into you girl” Derek scoffed

“More like who!” emily remarked, causing JJ to snicker “we have seen that extra pep in your step lately Y/N”

You shifted in your seat becoming anxious that people were going to crack onto what was going on between you and Reid. Everyday you were nervous to even look in Reid’s direction… It didn't help that everyone that surrounded you both were some of the best profilers you know. You rolled your eyes putting on a confident facade and prepared your fighting argument against Emily’s wrong, but so right, speculation. 

“Right everyone let’s just focus on the case” Hotch ordered, “Agent Y/N’s love life will just have to remain a mystery for you all until you solve this one”

“Oh c'mon Hotch, you are supposed to be on my side!” you called out desperately as everyone laughed, “i am reporting you all to HR for bullying on the job!”

“Boohoo babygirl!” Morgan said, pouting.

Throughout the rest of the flight you all spoke about the case, trying to build a profile upon the characteristics of the murder. Words like sadist and sociopath were thrown around while you yet again zoned out, this time focused on Reid and his soft snores. You had woken up, naked, to the sound of his snores a couple times now. Each time was just as good as the last. You found yourself counting down the time until you landed, wishing the minutes would go by fast. 

-

Landing came by painfully and slowly. Some time before the flight landed, Spencer had woken up. He seemed shifty and irritated. Not to mention, he could not take his eyes off of you. You felt yourself become more and more needy for him with every passing second. Clock watching made it worse. 

By the time you all arrived at the hotel that you were staying at, it was midnight. Everyone had no energy. The goodbyes and goodnights were a mix of mumbles and grumbles. Your room was right down the hall from Spencer. Emily and JJ across the hall, Morgan next door to Reid, and Hotch was one floor above us all. A dim pale yellow light tried to light the room as you walked through to the bathroom, a hot soak was well needed. Today had seemed to be so long and exhausting.

As you plunged yourself into the bubbles and warmth, you leant back allowing yourself to relax in the tub. Soap suds covered your body as you massaged your aching muscles. You moaned at the release you felt, free from tension that ached your body. As you were massaging your sore body, you felt your mind racing back to Dr. Spencer Reid and your hand inching further to the place you wanted him right now. As your hand grazed your core, you heard a ping to your phone. 

You sighed as the moment had been rudely interrupted and ruined. You grabbed your robe, exiting the tub and putting it over your body. Grasping your phone, your stomach fluttered. ‘Spence’. ‘I need you Y/N’. you bit back a smirk, knowing what was about to happen. ‘Don’t let them see you..’ you responded back. 

Quickly, you ran to the door ready to let the man you wanted most into your hotel room. It was scandalous and thrilling sneaking around with him. It was what you both needed while dealing with stressful cases. A source of release.. Mentally and physically. 

As you opened the door, the slender built boy slipped past quickly into the room to avoid being seen and perhaps questioned as to why he was entering his co-workers' hotel room at 1am. You closed the door silently and instantly you were pressed against it. Spencer’s lips fit yours perfectly. You felt his wet tongue swipe along your bottom lip, begging for entrance. It was heated and vulgar. The desperation for each other was filthy. Your tongues played war with each other until like always Spencer won dominance. You were like a putty in his hands, allowing him to take control of your every movement. 

“You don't understand how beautiful you looked all day” spencer rambled, “i've been wanting to get you alone and worship your body since i first laid eyes on you this morning” 

You moaned at his sweet nothings, moving your lips to trail down his neck as your hands played with the buttons on his shirt. You were eager to rid him of his clothes, eager for him. As your hand went down each button, you slowly freed him out of his shirt. You gasped, running your hands along his chest and to his lower abdomen. 

“I have missed you spence” you stated, breathlessly. 

He slowly walked you backwards towards the bed, peppering kisses around your face. You giggled at the childish move but felt adored. Slowly, he lowered you to lie on the bed and hooked his arms around your legs giving you a strong tug to the edge of the bed. 

“Trust me, Y/N not as much as i missed you doll” he smirked, undoing the tie on your robe. 

Your chest rose and fell fast. You lay there in front of him naked and for the taking. Allowing him to see the most vulnerable and insecure side of yourself. He slowly lowered himself allowing his mouth to come in contact with your soft skin. Spencer kissed and nipped with his teeth, your most sensitive areas. Your neck. Your collarbone. Your breasts. You couldn't help but let the moans fall from your lips. He chuckled at your reaction, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted.

Spencer caressed your left breast pinching your nipple. all while he licked, sucked and bit the right one. You felt wetness pool at your core. All. For. Him. slowly, you felt his nose brush down your abdomen as the pit of your stomach flipped. No matter how many late nights you spent together and how much you prepared yourself, you still got nervous when giving yourself to spencer. Even if he was cautious and gentle.

You squirmed and wriggled as you felt his hot breath on your clit. You were dripping with anticipation at this point. Spencer began to kiss each thigh, slowly working his way closer to the place you wanted him most. Soon enough, Spencer pressed his lips against your clit licking and biting. Slowly, he circled his tongue against your clit as you became more and more sensitive with each lap. Your hand tangled in his brown curls, causing him to moan in response. You cried out in pleasure as he inserted two fingers into you and began pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. 

“Fuck spencer” you breathed out.

“Does that feel good Y/N?” he questioned you, already knowing the answer from the way you were a mess below him. 

“Mhm” you mumbled. 

Spencer pulled away from your clit and took his fingers out from with you, gripping your thighs and turning you on your stomach. You heard his zipper become undone. You looked back and bit your bottom lip suppressing a moan as you saw him in nothing but his underwear. You could see his hard bulge and it made you even more desperate for him.

“Look at you so needy!” Spencer whispered, grabbing a condom from his jean pocket. 

You eyed him up and down as his teeth ripped the small packet open. 

“Hurry… im so fucking desperate” you were a wreck as you tried to speak your wants, “i do need you spencer” 

“Good girls wait” he remarked

You watched him slowly slide the rubber on his hard length, he held a strong eye contact with yours. Enjoying the way you watched him, eagerly waiting for him. You bit your lip hard trying to suppress your moans - considering your co-workers were just down the hall and above you. You hissed in pleasure and pain when Spencer unexpectedly forced his entire length into you without warning. 

It was raw and animalistic the way you both wanted eachother, needed eachother and fucked eachother. Spencer Reid was a quiet boy. Yet, who you now grew to know and spend time with, you saw him in a much different light. He was a gentle, passionate man who adored and cared for you. Reid didnt just use you for sex… he worshipped your body while he fucked you. 

The room was filled with the sound of your breathless moans and the sound of your skin meeting each other. Spencer was deep inside you and with every stroke he made in and out of you, you grew closer to your release. 

“You feel so fucking good Y/N” spencer moaned as he flipped you onto your back, allowing him to watch your face as he fucked you senseless. 

You tried responding but you were a moaning mess. No words could be formed. You were drunk on Spencer’s cock. With every thrust, your tits bounced, sending Spencer's mind on a spiral. 

“You look so fucking good taking my cock, doll” spencer exclaimed, as his hand connected with your clit rubbing small quick circles. 

You felt your stomach ball as you grew closer to your orgasm. You cried in pleasure as he thrusted deeper and slower, hitting your g-spot each time. 

“I- fuck- please spence” you begged him growing more sensitive to his touch and nearing your finish. 

“I know Y/N” he grunted as he entered in and out of you, feeling closer to his orgasm each time, “cum for me” 

You cried out at your release, digging your nails down Spencer's back for some stability on the edge of your pleasure. Your ears rang out from the overwhelming stimulation, while Spencer rode out to his orgasm. It came quickly as he collapsed tired and breathless onto your chest. Time passed as you two lay tangled within each other's arms, trying to calm down from your high.

“Y/N?” he questioned

“Yea” you huffed out

“I’m glad you joined the Quantico BAU team” he stated letting out a breathy laugh

“Yeah me too” you smirked, “the benefits are pretty good too.”

[the-thing-withfeathers]

i’ll do anything

requested

a/n: tysm to the anon who sent this request. i’ve been so keen to write it. i love a super menacing reader, i think its so funny to write them.

pairing: sabrina carpenter x reader

warnings: smut!!!, physical violence (not to either of the main characters), public sex, cursing, thigh grinding, finger riding, nipple play.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you & sabrina decided to go out for dinner somewhere close to your apartment. you both had busy days and had no time or energy to cook.

you two were the it-couple of the century but you didn’t show yourselves much, valuing the privacy of your own home since you two were in the limelight so much.

due to this circumstance, you had your fair share of paparazzi follow you around when you did show your face.

when you two left the restaurant, there was a flood of paparazzi snapping photos of the two of you.

you were annoyed, you had a long day and you didn’t need any more of this. she was pouting, she clearly had just as shitty of a day as you. you gripped her hand and pulled her towards your car, trying to make a clear path for the two of you. you didn’t have security, it was just the two of you.

you snapped when you saw one of them shove sabrina, trying to get a picture. that was your girl, he had no right. in a fit of rage, you grabbed his camera and smashed it to bits. you followed by throwing a punch at him, your fist colliding with his face in no time.

sabrina jumped, shocked by your actions. she wasn’t afraid of you, she knew you were just protecting her. however, that protectiveness you were displaying, the furrow of your eyebrow, the hardening of your jaw… it was doing something to her.

“fuck off! or i’ll snap you in half!” you turned and told off a different man who was snapping photos of you breaking the camera.

the anger in your voice, the gritting of your teeth, it was beginning to get all too much for her. her thighs started to rub together as a last minute effort to contain the wetness pooling at her core.

you tugged her towards the car, opening the passenger seat for her. despite your anger, you were still polite, and that spurred her on even further. she was looking at you with bedroom eyes that were incredibly hard to miss. you leaned down to the seat and buckled her seatbelt for her, kissing her cheek in the process. she almost moaned just from that.

“glad you’re okay, baby.” you mumbled. you pulled away and shut the door, making your way to the driver’s seat.

you hopped in and buckled your seatbelt. you started the car and waited a couple of seconds.

“thank you for sticking up for me.” she said as you put the car into gear. she knew she couldn’t wait. she put the car back in park just as you were about to go. “now i need you to fuck me.”

you turned to her with wide eyes as you both undid your seatbelts. you had no idea you would get this reaction out of her. you reclined your seat, trying to move over to the back but she took that opportunity to straddle you in the driver’s seat.

“oh… you’re needy, needy.” you said, smiling as you felt her wetness on your stomach. you sat up and your fingers met her panties, circling the fabric. “sooo wet. did i really make you feel like this?” you asked, curiosity peaking.

the thought of the two of you getting caught was turning you on even further. the crowd of paparazzi just dispersed not even five minutes ago, you were sure some of them were lurking.

she nodded and bit down on her lip, her eyes fluttering shut as your fingers worked their magic. “mmhm… so hot seeing you angry…” she mumbled as you pulled her hips down to meet your thigh. she gasped, flinching a little bit. you loved getting a rise out of her.

“who’s my pretty girl?” you asked her, slowly moving her hips to grind on your thigh at a dreadfully slow pace.

“me… i’m your pretty girl.” she said, whimpering at how slow you were going. “stop teasinggg…” she said, prolonging her consonants.

“i’m not teasing, darling. you’re just so fucking needy.”

you grabbed her jaw in your hand, making her turn to look outside the car.

“look, you couldn’t even wait to get back home before needing me to fuck you dumb.” you said, growling under your breath. “such a good little slut for me.”

“yeah… yeah…” she said, under her breath, her eyes shut. “i’m your little slut. i love being your slut.” you could tell she was already sensitive, perhaps the overwhelming amount of arousal from earlier pushed her along further than you thought.

you raised your calf so your thigh pressed even harder against her core. you saw the wet patch start to form as she got herself off on the fabric of your pants. she gripped your shoulders, her acrylics digging into your shirt.

“mmph, fuck.” she said, leaning down to bury her face into your neck. “wanna cum, wanna cum for you.” she said, muffled.

“you cum when i tell you.” you said, yanking her hair back so she was sitting back up again. but you pulled her closer, placing your forehead against hers. “how bad do you want it?”

“so bad… so so bad… need to cum all over you.” she said, forcing her eyes open to make eye contact with you.

“you want me to let you cum?”

“please, pretty please. i’ll do anything.” she said, nodding.

you lifted the front of her skirt, pressing your thumb down on her clit every time she grinded towards you. she grunted softly as her clit hit your thumb every single time.

“you can cum, princess.” you nodded at her.

her breath started to hitch as her moans started to increase in pitch and frequency. she jolted as she finished all over your thigh, crying out a high pitched moan, her eyes squeezed shut.

you sighed, smiling at your work.

you fell back into the seat but pulled her along with you, capturing her lips in a forceful kiss. you pulled her upwards a little bit, lifting the skirt she was wearing so her entire ass was on display to the world.

“this is what you get. the world is gonna see just how desperate you are for me.” you laughed at the state of her. she was on your chest, her hands at your shoulders, her arousal dripping onto your bare stomach. you were suddenly pushing her panties down until they were at her knees.

you wrapped your arm around the back of her thigh, running a finger along her slit while nursing her cheek, pressing kisses to it as her eyes fluttered shut again.

her breath quivered as she tried to speak. “you’re just so hot… wanna ride your fingers.”

you figured you could do that.

“okay, baby. i’ll give you that.” you cooed. “but just you know.” you gripped her cheeks again. “it’s only cause i’m letting you have it.”

she nodded out of desperation.

you moved your hand to sit between the two of you, pushing her panties to the side once more. her mouth dropped open when you inserted a finger into her, quickly following up with a second one.

she moved her hips up and down, riding her fingers like her life depended on it. her hips bounced, raising up then slamming down on your lap.

you reached up to grope one of her tits, pulling her shirt down as you did. you toyed with the nipple, twisting it in between her fingers. you saw goosebumps travel across her chest along with a red blush.

you sat back up and took her other boob into your mouth, biting down on the nipple while you continued to play with the other one.

sabrina put her hands on the back of your head, pushing your face further into the soft pillow of her breast. you groaned softly, feeling the warmth of her chest.

she continued to get herself off on your fingers. you noticed her pace got sloppy when she started to fall back down harder after lifting herself up, you decided to help her out by pumping your fingers in and out of her.

“yes… yes. just like that.” she eventually had to stop lifting herself up, her legs starting to get tired. you continued to finger her, curling your fingers inside of her which got her thighs shaking.

you pulled your mouth away from her tit with a ‘pop!’ noise.

“you gonna cum again for me?” you asked, flashing her a cheeky and toothy smile.

“yes… keep going, i’m gonna… gonna cu—“ she couldn’t even finish her sentence before she reached her climax and was leaking all over your fingers. she cried your name out, pushing her body into yours.

she fell into your chest, you wrapped your arm around her back to hug her. your face softened a little bit when you saw her flushed and fucked out.

“good girl, that’s my good girl.” you comforted her. she whined softly, kissing you weakly.

“you need to stop getting angry, it makes me horny.” she coughed out, her throat was dry from her mouth hanging open so much.

“you understand that i will keep getting angry if it means we get to do this more?”

“please please please, don’t.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

the next day when you two woke up. both your phones had blown up overnight.

you woke sabrina up after checking the reason why.

a photo of sabrina flushed out against your chest, panting while her skirt rode up enough to see her panties, had gone viral.

she covered her face in embarrassment as you laughed at her.

“fuckin’ paparazzi.”

[yunimayie]

𝜗𝜚 (HIS) ONLY

ft. dazai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa x fem!reader ; how they spend their december with you. cws; tooth rotting fluff, not edited, may be ooc.

love, runi. dear gosh its been so long since ive written 😭... i have a nsfw draft in the works, but i was feeling fluff atm 🙂‍↕️💗. i hope i did the boys justice 😭😭 and it doesnt seem too ooc :(. additionally, i don't think i'm going to disclose the actual reason for being offline for so long. am i sorry for deactivating? nah...

the 24th — his hands ran cold, puffs of icy air battling the hot cry of warmth. he could feel the ache in his bones, yearning for the fire a room away. "isn't it cold?" you ask dazai, who was sitting upright on the edge of your shared futon. "it is," he answers, a whisper so loud, even the wind howls with it. you shift away, holding the large coze of your blanket up high, a cave forming in mere seconds. "then get in." you say with a tired face, "i'm cold too, 'samu." warm me up, he almost missed. without protest, he curls up into your arms—embrace heating the ac he calls his blood. "can't sleep?" you ask the obvious, knowing he appreciated the sentiment anyways. "no." you can feel the small shake his head makes, as slow as a toddler may stand to understand physics, dazai is the same with himself.

it was confusing, all energy he focuses on you, is forced back on him with a stern lecture from you. every bicker and mumbles of defeat helps see the purpose of your intentions. "how are you going to take care of me, when you can't take care of yourself?" a question he could argue with, but deep down—he'd ponder the same question in his head. if he took care of himself, it'd make you happy, and him feeling unsure. if he took care of you, it'd make him happy, at the cost of your disappointment with him. take care of yourself, osamu. you'd always cry sheep as you comforted him. the same building resentment of having his freedom forced onto a schedule quietly turned into appreciation for your efforts.

you didn't leave him. didn't need to help him. you did anyways, the warm flutter he always feels whenever his hand grazes yours or the accidental eye contact throughout the day, was already telling enough. dazai wasn't obligated to show any gratefulness, and neither were you—yet you still did it. and every year since the day of your anniversary, there was always something special waiting for him. clothes, games, your love; everything, was there, in a box wrapped with his blues and your yellows. he envisions each gift to the tune of a shake from the box. each of them perfect, and what he preferred to have on this special occasion.

the 24th, his special gift waiting for you under the tree. to be opened, to be named, that's up to you to guess. but the small gift glistening underneath, cannot wait 'til morning. "i wonder what you got me." he feels your chest rumble softly. in almost an instant, the wear and tear of his job finally catches up to him. "you'll find out soon." dazai smiles against your chest, the soothing lullaby of your breathing nearly puts him to sleep. "happy anniversary, osamu. i hope you'll like my gift tomorrow." a few small circles rub dazai's head. he doesn't fall asleep until you do first. "i know i will," his voice quieter, gentler, matching the tempo of the dying breeze. and you'll love mine too, goes unheard. baby steps, baby steps were still baby steps.

the 25th — you looked just like a dream, the prettiest girl he's ever seen. in chuuya's mind, nothing quite comes and goes as slowly as your beauty. in fact, everyone assumes it's permanent by how he's so enamored—consumed with adoration. it should come as a surprise to no one, when he gifts you a personalized advent calendar to count down the days of his super secret selection of affection that chosen day. first it was hugs all day, then came kisses on the 3rd, and—oh he was so overwhelming with his love! and yet, you could never be bore of it. an excited squeal always left your mouth as soon the clock hit midnight, chuuya already making preparations for his swooning affection for the month of deer. "how's today?" he asks, seeking your approval from the early box picking. "perfect," you say, "i think you'll have me falling from the balcony with the way i'm falling for everything you do for me." he chuckles, "don't die yet, you still have a day, counting six extra, left."

the following day, you're awoken to the soft scent of cinnamon and marshmallows filling the tiniest gaps of air. you struggle to waken fully, still groggy from your late night endeavors with chuuya. matter of fact, where was he? it wasn't unusual for him to leave in the yawn of morning hours, but on his month off.. assuming the solution by the smell, you make way to the kitchen where chuuya stood behind a counter. he notices you in his vision before releasing a blinging smile. "good mornin' beautiful." a wink catches your eye, "couldn't sleep without me?" he says while patting fluffy pancakes down, each stacked imperfectly delicious with a drizzle of syrup and fruits decorating it. "and if i did?" you match his tease, creating an easy tension that could dissolve in any minute.

"well then, i won't keep ya' waiting." his lips form a familiar slant. using his ability to carry the plates and breakfast stand, chuuya's arms are already lifting you bridal. "why're you out of bed? i thought i gave myself enough time to surprise you." he nearly pouts to your face, not embarrassed to do so in front of you. you laugh it off, " 'tis okay, chu." booping him, he drops you onto the bed as some sort of petty revenge. "only if you say so." his lips met your cheek, propping the breakfast tray as you perched on your bottom. your stomach growled in anticipation, kneading the inner lining of your stomach. "well?" he asks, awaiting your approval once again. you picked up a fork and stabbed it into the fluffy pancake. bringing it up to his face, you tell him to open his mouth.

"first bite!" you nudge it closer, "okay," and without another word, chuuya took the entire thing into his mouth, "mmm - wow delicious. why don't you say; thank you chef nakahara." the mischievous in his tone was hard to miss—a smirk you wanted to wipe off his face. "you're welcome my princess." a giggle escaped with it. acting annoyed with the nickname, chuuya sneakily placed a dot of syrup on your cheek. "chuuya!" you gasp, scrambling to wipe away the sticky substance. "my bad, dear prince."

a small smack hit his shoulder, "go away!" nodding his head, he moves to get up, but is stopped by a small tug on his arm. "and bring me my gifts please." he thinks for a moment, arms relaxing and his body sinking back onto the bed. "oh? you mean the ones i threw in the fire to keep you warm last night? those presents? from under the tree?—ow! kidding!" he threw his arms up in surrender after getting smacked again, this time harder.

the 16th — when it came to december, atsushi was no stranger to the cold weather. being nearly stripped of everything but rags for clothes, he often got sick without compromise from the orphanage. when it came to his life in the agency—his life with you—he was taken care of, given affection he was denied, able to show the vulnerability the director shut down. in his own little mind, you were the stage centerpiece; a transition from the filthy pinecone to the golden star he finally got to place on his tree. "quiet," he almost flinches, until he heard a melody instead of the desolate, angry, mob. he opened his eyes, eyes blinding him with your beauty. "an angel?" he questions, still hazed from his pain. "no," you laugh, replacing the towel on his head, "[name]."

"[name]..." he repeats, affirming his belief of being fine and alive. in your shared home—kyouka standing beside you. "is he going to be okay?" her weary voice echoes concern, to which you pat her head and tell her to fetch some more water. "of course he is, he's atsushi. i need a refill, can you do it for me?" with kyouka hurriedly jogging away, you're left alone with atsushi. he moans, his joints aching with every twist. "are you doing okay?" you ask, rubbing soft circles on his palm. "feel so nauseous." he mumbles, throat hoarse like the attack on trojans. you cooed, a sweet lullaby that comforts him through thick and thin, "feel better soon, m'kay?" he bobs his head like copier, obedient. atsushis' peace answers with silence.

admist your little moment, kyouka arrives back with the water in hand. she hands you the small bowl and takes her seat next to you again. "he seems at ease," she notes. "does he?" you question, busying yourself with replacing the towel every now and then. "mhm," she nods, "i'm glad." a small smile comes foward on her dollified expression. kyouka also takes notice of the faint blush resting on his face, daint and obvious. she doesn't speak up about it, opting to pop the question in when atsushi was better. for now, she'll wonder what you two had talked about while she was out of the room.

the 31st — if akutagawa had any say about attending any gift-related events, he'd stay home. if akutagawa had any shred of empathy left, he'd conserve it just for you. a mistake, honestly. he curses to the devils' and above for forcing his heart to ponder sweetly for you. "no," he says, unwavering in his decision. "but, ryu!!" you whine so casually, wanting him to give in and get out of his comfort zone. you knew it wasn't an easy task, seeing as your beloved friend preferred to stay within the four white walls the port mafia created. "annoying," he grumbles, eyes tilting blinding anger, "leave me be." he shoves past you, destined to cast away your binding spell. you stand there, resolve strong as ever while defending against hollow words. "be that way," you sigh, "but before you leave, let me give you this." you pull out a small present, throwing it to akutagawa who caught it with rashomon.

"what's this?" he inquired, an annoyed grunt passing his lips when you don't answer and turn on your heels to leave. annoying, he thinks again. he decides to unravel his gift later, when he was in the comforts of his own home. "what's inside?" gin poked at it, wanting her brother to hurry it up already. "don't know, [name] gave it to me]." he sighs—a gentle remonstrance. gin nods in understanding, waiting eagerly for her brother to tear the paper apart. inside laid a small box, "is it jewelry?" akutagawa shrugged his shoulds, "might be."

he uncovers the tiny trinket inside. it appeared to be a plain, silver lining necklace with nothing attached. at the bottom of the box, a note read; a pitiful necklace for your grey home, truly, a noteworthy gift you thought of. "seems like [name] really likes you," gin jokes about. akutagawa was quick to shut it down though, not in the mood to entertain any lovey dovey tease. "alright, alright," she giggles, "are you going to the party tonight?" she switches the topic. the mafia didn't often hold parties—this year being an exception—to keep their reputation in check. "no, i don't think i will." gin pouts at her brothers' rejection. "i won't force you, but maybe you'd enjoy it." you'll see [name], is what she's implying. as much as he can deny the pointed accusations, it was obvious to others around, that akutagawa held a soft spot for you. he grounded himself, "no." his mental fortude will not be broken down by measly gifts. "mhm–okay," gin hides her grin exceptionally well.

on the day of the party, you're feeling gorgeous in your outfit, hair done and kept to match it. you greet others with polite grace, "good evening to you too executive ozaki." you return her greeting. she does a curt bow before leaving the short talk. hunger gnawed a tight grip on your stomach, a loud growl emitting nothing against the loud chatter of the room. you scan the area for the nearest buffet table to ease your hunger. spotting none, you traverse the mounts of cleanliness ordor into another area of the building, where you laid eyes on an exquisite high-top table filled to the edge of some of your favorites. your inner-self squealed in excitement, still needing to maintain your professional composure while walking down to it.

the closer you got, a familiar voice rang nearby. "i'd rather not talk about it," he adjusts the chain sitting on his neck, your eyes catching wind of his movements unbeknownst to him. "aww, c'mon akutagawa! just tell us!!" tachihara whined drunkenly, using gin as support as he leaned on her. "no," he says. "my brother is a little shy on the outside. don't worry tachihara–i promise he's feeling fluttery on the inside." gin reassures her friend with light taps on his hand. "am not." he glares, hardly ever removing that mean scowl of his. tachihara was about to make a scene until he flinched from your voice, "it's all in the tone, tachi," your half assed smirk eased in—delighted to see akutagawa wearing your gift, "the chain suits you, doesn't it?" you smile, that teasing glint shining in your teeth nearly makes the man in question falter.

"it does," he mutters, walking away with a clenched heart—the blush on the tip of his ears giving away his true feelings.

@ yunimayie—everything is owned by mayira, she doesn't appreciate copyright breaches.

anyways lil rant at the bottom but, if ur not a writer, then u have no right to complain abt the amount of smut to fluff ratio 😭 (even then, as a writer, u should understand that complaining is not going to change anything).

im also tired of yall bitching abt everything in the x reader tag 😐 gtfo the place where ppl come to READ fics, not read ur bitching 🙏!

[complaining abt xyz] "oh im going to put this in the x reader tags to gain attention and sympathy for my cause!" OH MY FUCKING GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

anyways, hello guys ik i wasn't gone for that long, but it feels like forever (cause i haven't written anything good yes ik). buuut.. my hyperfixiation on bsd isnt leaving anytime soon so why not make the most of it rn and write again. next fic is def smut 😴🤞.

[honeytonedhottie]

maintaining/creating a social life⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁

ok so i used to have HORRIBLE social anxiety and i think that the contrast between me with social anxiety and me now is INSANE. in a good way ofc. so im not going to talk about how i overcame social anxiety, instead im going to talk about how i created a social life ✨

MAKING FRIENDS ;

the science of making friends is simple and im about to explain it. so go to where there are ppl that u can relate to/want to relate to. example being school, clubs, etc.

next, observe who u want to befriend and make sure to start with a compliment. starting off by introducing urself just makes for an awkward conversation but starting with a compliment puts u and the other party at ease.

something thats rly important is ur CHARISMA and ur magnetic energy so be CHARMING ✨ if u find that the other party is not reciprocating its either they're uncomfy, uninterested, or just a weirdo. and in all cases, you should stop.

MAKING FRIENDS THRU FRIENDS ;

make friends with your friends friends -> make friends with their friends -> and so on and so forth. this is how you network and create a friendly status with lots of people.

if ur in a school setting like i am, make friends with people in ur own grade or in a higher up grade, i dont usually make friends with ppl in lower grades but ofc there are always exceptions.

making friends through friends is how u get invited to parties, have more opportunities be available to you, and ofc network for more connections. guys connections are literally EVERYTHING.

MAKE TIME FOR UR FRIENDS ;

make sure to learn who u call friends. when is their birthday? do they have specific preferences? what kind of music do they listen to? knowing ur friends makes them feel special and thats how u learn to be a good friend. i can make a whole POST about being a good friend cuz i've learned and grown so much with that.

THE POWER OF A COMPLIMENT ;

make it ur mission to give a compliment everyday cuz first off, being nice is HOT so pls be nice and second of all, if ur trying to talk to someone and u start with a compliment i promise that it'll go so much better.

if ur thinking "thats so awkward how will i do that" then the category dont be shy is one that u gotta read cuz girl 💀. if u need an example i'll provide one from my own experience so u can see the power of a compliment.

there was this girl in my spanish class and i always thought that she was so pretty and she seemed so nice. one day we bump into each other in the bathroom and i compliment her hair and makeup, she responds well. we continue to have friendly interactions throughout the rest of the school year and now we are good friends on and off campus.

DONT BE SHY ;

when u make friends please please PLEASE work on ur confidence first. you need to be SURE of yourself. if not, when ur being friendly it could come off as desperation and ppl will humiliate, make fun of and take advantage of u. and thats NOT hot.

be CONFIDENT, you literally have nothing to lose. when u shed ur shyness (thru things like exposure therapy etc) a whole new world is opened up for u bcuz sometimes the only thing holding u back is urself and ur limiting beliefs about urself.

MAKE UR PERSONALITY SHINE ;

make sure that know ur own personality and from knowing that u can find ways in which u can make it shine. no matter what ur personality is though, something that i cannot stress enough is BE NICE.

be friendly and amicable with everyone and stay out of drama and if drama comes to you then stay unbothered 😭. dont try and uproot ur own personality to copy someone else's.

[janeyseymour]

Sneaky Link

Summary: A request from an anon- Secret relation between R and Melissa, Ava flirting with reader until Melissa breaks and threatens to take a Edith houghton to her

WC: ~3.9k

Not edited in the slightest and written in a depressive era lol enjoy

It’s funny the way the world works out for you. It always has been, and it probably always will be. So when Melissa Schemmenti, the known regular at one of the bars you’re also a regular at, comes sauntering up to you after a long day of searching for jobs and interviewing with what seems to be no such luck- well, you think maybe the universe really was looking out for you.

And that was months ago. Now, you and that hot, tough on the outside but soft on the inside, teacher have been together since that night. It’s… it’s something special. You thank whatever high power there is out there for bringing her to you on that one night when you really needed someone.

The thing that the universe hasn’t done in your favor? Given you a job. Until…

“Babe!” Melissa calls you as you’re leaving one of the schools you’ve been subbing at.

You smile at her voice. You always do. “Hey. What’s up?”

“We’re still on for dinner tonight?”

“Of course we are,” you chuckle softly. “I would never give up the opportunity to see my beautiful woman. That isn’t why you called though, is it?”

“No,” she admits. “I was just talking with my principal, and she said that they are for sure hiring a new second grade teacher over the summer. Do you want me to throw your name into the ring and put a good word in for you?”

“How about you let me go so I can drive to your place, and we can talk about it over dinner?” you suggest. “And you drive safe too?”

“You know I never drive safe unless I have you in my car- precious cargo,” she teases you softly. “But okay. I’ll see you in a bit, mi amore.”

That night, the two of you chat about the position opening up at her school. As it turns out, the position is for another second grade teacher, and if you were to get the job, your room would be right next to hers. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh softly as you lay your head down in her lap. “I just… I want to get the job on my own terms, not be a shoo in because I have the world’s hottest teacher in my corner.”

“That would be you, mi amore,” she says quietly as she weaves her fingers through your hair. “But that’s fine. I do think you should apply though. You would be a great addition to the team, and you would get to be on my team and balance out Janine with all of her energy.”

“You know I have just as much energy sometimes,” you chuckle as you reach for the television remote. 

“Yeah,” your girlfriend laughs. “But I find it endearing with you.”

“Because we’re dating.”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

You end up applying for the job, and when you go in, it’s quite easy to see how the redhead has maintained working here for so long. It’s a rundown school where she can make a difference- she refuses to burn out for the sake of the children. And you’ll refuse to burn out for the sake of the children right with her if you end up getting hired here.

The secretary leads you back to the conference room where there sits a panel. It’s clear who the principal is, but then soon either side of her are two women. One who you know from Melissa’s stories is Barbara Howard, and the other is… It’s Melissa herself. It takes everything in you to not chastise her for being a part of your interview, or for at least not giving you a warning- especially after you had spoken with her on the phone earlier that morning about how nervous you were for the interview. You’ll have to save that for after your interview.

“Well, hello there,” Ava’s eyes rake you up and down. “Principal Coleman, and this is Barbara Howard and Melissa Schemmenti- two of Abbott’s finest teachers. Although, you may just join Red in the running for hottest teacher here.”

If this were not a professional setting, you would quip that you could never stand a chance up against your girlfriend, but you’re interviewing, and you know nobody at work knows of her relation to you. So you press your lips together in a fine line and reach out to shake each of their hands. While you meet both Ava’s and Barbara’s eyes, it is much harder for you to look at those green eyes you usually love to see.

The interview is- well, it’s somewhat of a joke. Barbara and Melissa ask you the more sensible questions about classroom management, behavior plans, and lessons, while the principal asks you what your favorite reality tv show is and how you would survive on a deserted island if you needed to. Nevertheless, they all seem impressed with your responses, both to the professional and unprofessional questions that were thrown your way.

You’re told to stay out in the hall for a few minutes while they deliberate, and you’re dying to know what’s being said about you in the conference room you’re hovering outside of.  It takes all of five minutes before you’re being called back into the room by Melissa herself, who is nothing if not professional.

“I have one more question for you,” the principal states seriously. You nod and smile nervously. “When are you able to start?”

“A-are you offering me the position?” you ask, eyebrows raised in surprised. You thought for sure they would be asking to see a demo lesson or something of the sort.

“Hell yeah we are,” Ava grins. “Abbott could use a hottie like you.”

Because you’re so busy shaking the principal’s hand and accepting the position, you miss the glare that your girlfriend sends her boss. You’re stuck there for a bit signing papers before you’re shown to your classroom by Barbara and Melissa- Ava claiming she’s trying to catch up on her newest reality television show. They end up giving you a tour of the school before handing you the curriculum binder and seeing you out.

“We’ll see you for development week, dear,” the kindergarten teacher smiles at you. “We’re very excited for you to join our team.”

Melissa just nods, hellbent on keeping up her tough South Philly girl act. You smile at them as you head out of the building. As soon as you’re in your car, you text your girlfriend.

What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be in my interview this morning?

We’ll talk when I come over, okay? Her response is almost immediate. It’s quickly followed by a, Congratulations, mi amore.

As soon as she pulls up to your townhouse, you’re standing outside on your front stoop with your arms folding over your chest as you stare her down. She comes running up your steps and pulls you into a hug, kissing your temple, then your cheek, then your nose, and then finally your lips. For as annoyed as you are with her, you do end up kissing her back.

“Lissa,” you say sternly.

“I’m so proud of you for getting the position,” she tells you as she rests her forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” you smile softly. But then your face drops again. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were going to be in my interview?”

She leads you back into your house and kicks off her shoes before sighing. “I didn’t know that I was going to be in your interview. It was supposed to be Janine, but she got sick and called out last minute. Someone from the second grade team had to be there, and by the time Ava had called me, I knew you were already in a tizzy, and I didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already were.”

You bring her into the kitchen where you already have some of the ingredients out for dinner, along with a bottle of champagne. “I just… I wasn’t expecting to see you there. It threw me off, and all of my words and thoughts got all jumbled up in my head while I tried to keep my eyes off of my insanely hot girlfriend.”

“Trust me when I tell you that you were fine,” the redhead promises you as she makes her way over to pop the bottle. “The idiot before you… I’m pretty sure he literally wandered in from off the street.”

“Did they only offer me the position because we’re-” you got to ask, but she cuts you off.

“They don’t know we’re together,” Melissa tells you. “You did not get offered the position because we’re dating. You got the position because you are a wonderful teacher, and Barbara pushed for you.”

“You had nothing to do with it?” you raise a brow.

“I stayed pretty quiet while they were talking,” your girlfriend says. “I even made sure I threw in a comment about how I wouldn’t learn your name until I was certain you were going to stay. They have no idea.”

You smile at her. “Then, a celebratory dinner we’ll be having… and then…”

Green eyes meet yours with a glint of mischief in them. “What?”

“And then, I want to be your dessert.”

Melissa’s eyes go wide, and she nods eagerly. “If that’s what you want, you know I’m always more than happy to make that happen… Might even have to go in for seconds after today’s accomplishment.”

The rest of summer passes in a warm haze. It’s filled with love, lazy days, and excitement as you plan for the upcoming school year with your girlfriend. But the days of lazing out at a pool or staying inside and binge watching your shows to beat the heat are quickly coming to an end. Melissa and you still haven’t talked about how you’re going to interact with each other at the school- especially now that the two of you have moved in together.

“Hun?” you call from the bedroom as you put on makeup for dinner tonight. It’s your last hurrah before the two of you really have to start focusing on the school year.

“What?” Melissa’s voice floats into the room as she waits for you downstairs.

When you don’t respond in hopes that she just comes into the room, she sighs and gets to her feet. She appears in the doorway a few seconds later, a soft look in her eyes as she watches you ready yourself.

“What’s up, mi amore?” she asks as she makes her way over to you. Her arms wrap around your shoulders, and she presses a gentle kiss to your hair before resting her chin on your shoulder.

“You know what I just realized?”

“What?”

“We never discussed how we were going to act at school.”

“Shit.”

Dinner is spent discussing that the two of you will have to work together due to the fact that you’re both on the second grade team, but your relationship at school will stay professional. You know that you can stay professional, but it’s going to be interesting to see the hard ass persona that Melissa likes to put on in front of her coworkers as opposed to the sweet and kindhearted woman that you know at home. It’s going to be jarring for sure- at least to start until it isn’t so suspicious that she likes the newbie. Once that’s squared away, the two of you enjoy a dinner that doesn’t revolve around lesson planning or any talks of school.

Development week is upon you, and you almost wish that you would’ve decided to just go into this job being out with Melissa, but you understand where she’s coming from with not telling HR that the two of you are together- at least not yet. And you genuinely do not want some sort of rumor to start that the only reason you got the position is because you’re dating one of the “scarier” teachers in the school. So, while you wish you were driving in with your girlfriend while she recites affirmations to you, you instead have to settle for driving in by yourself. You pull in next to her car, but she’s already inside- you know this much.

It’s weird when you head into the staff lounge. You’re so used to her making you coffee in the mornings, but today you have to fend for yourself. And while everyone else is cordial with you, your girlfriend is standoffish and cold, calling you by the wrong name on purpose and telling her coworkers she’ll bother to learn your name once you’ve proven that you aren’t just going to up and leave the first time things get hard for you (you catch the sympathetic glance she throws your way as she’s heading out with her friends for the meeting). 

Most of development week ends up being your principal just flirting with you and your girlfriend being as hostile as she is with other new hires. At night, once the two of you settle in together, she promises you that she loves you more than anything and she apologizes for her behavior and attitude towards you at school.

“I didn’t realize this was what I would be walking into at school,” you chuckle as she massages your back gently. “But I have to admit, seeing you like that… damn it’s hot.”

“You always think I’m hot,” she rolls her eyes as she begins to work on a new tense spot right by your shoulder.

“Well, I’m not wrong for that,” you half chuckle, half groan. “But I always get to see sweet soft Lissa, and at school you’re a total badass.”

“I’m a total badass in front of literally everyone except for you,” she tells you as she kisses the slope of your neck. “I don’t know why, but you melt me like butter.”

“Well, ain’t I lucky then?”

“I’d say I’m the lucky one,” she throws right back at you.

Your days at your new job continue on like that, and so do your nights. During the day, Melissa is nothing but a bitch to you and offering you apologetic glances when she can. And at home, your girlfriend is the sweetest woman, even more sweet than usual because she feels so guilty that she can’t treat you like the amazing woman that you are in your place of work.

But that changes when the kids start their school year. Because your classrooms are right next to each other, she has a front row seat to see just how talented you are when it comes to working with your kids. She observes how much effort you put into their daily routines, how you explicitly state your expectations and hold them to it, and how you manage behaviors within your classroom, all while still getting them settled in for the school year.

It’s at lunch on the first day that she softens up on you just the slightest bit. You’re sitting at one of the tables by yourself when she and Barbara comes strolling in.

“Ah, Y/N, dear,” the kindergarten teacher smiles at you. “How is your first day with the kids going?”

You break out into a grin. “Honestly? I’m loving it. These kids, while they all have their challenges, like any kids, are absolutely precious. I already have a handful of drawings sitting on my desk to be hung up on the bulletin board behind my desk.”

“That’s great to hear,” Barb tells you as she pulls her lunch out of the fridge.

“Wow, newbie,” Melissa’s eyes sparkle just enough that you can tell. “Better than I expected.”

“And how did you expect my first day to go?” you challenge her to act. She had told you this morning in bed that she knew you were going to be just what Abbott needs, but could she play it off that she thought you were going to crash and burn now?

The redhead shrugs. “Most newbies run out of here with their middle fingers up and crying.”

“Well, that won’t be me. Thank you very much Miss Schemmenti,” you shrug as you take a bite of your salad (the one that she had prepared for you last night).

“Good,” is all she huffs out as she sits down to eat her own lunch. “Abbott needs some stability.”

That night at home, it’s an early night. The first days, and even the first weeks, of school are utterly exhausting.

“I meant what I said when most people leave with their middle fingers up and crying,” Melissa sighs as she lays her head on your chest. “But you, my dear? I never had a doubt in my mind that you would be the perfect addition to the Abbott team. And I saw how great you were with your kids today. They’re lucky to have you.”

“Just as your little eagles are lucky to have you,” you chuckle softly as you begin to run your fingers through her hair.

Slowly, Melissa’s tougher than nails demeanor shifts. She begins to treat you like she treats Janine, although it is different. But that’s because the two of you are hiding a relationship, unlike with Janine. It’s nice. And at home, she’s still as loving as ever and even still apologizing for not treating you the way she should at school.

“When are we going to tell them that we’re together?” you ask casually as you’re looking over the weekly plans.

She hums. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I just don’t want anyone to think that I only got the job because we’re dating and you were in my interview. I know you said that Barb was the one who pushed for me, but…”

“If you want to wait a bit, we can.”

You’ve settled into teaching at Abbott quite nicely. Your coworkers love you, Melissa has only continued to soften up at you at school, even calling you by your real name now. You have to say, you love this job. It’s the best job that you’ve had in quite some time, and that includes when you worked in more affluent areas. These kids just… get it. The staff is like an odd, dysfunctional family. And you get to see your girlfriend at work everyday. It’s almost perfect.

The reason it isn’t perfect? Your boss, Ava Coleman, flirts with you constantly. She finds reason to be in your room more often than not, and whenever you’re all having lunch, there’s some excuse for her to end up in the staff room with you.

Melissa, of course, is well aware that your principal is constantly trying to hit on you. You let most of her comments roll off of you, but some just have you shaking your head at the things she insinuates.

“Ava,” you finally sigh one day after seeing the absolute death glare that Melissa is sending her way. Oh, if looks could kill. “Quit flirting with me.”

“And why would I do that, boo?”

“Because you’re in a relationship,” you roll your eyes as her own eyes scan over you.

The woman shrugs. “And? It’s open.”

“And I have a girlfriend who I know for a fact would not, and does not like the fact that you are constantly trying to get with me,” you reveal.

Everyone looks at you in surprise at that admission. Everyone except for Melissa, who angrily stabs at the salad she’s got out for lunch (the salad that you lovingly packed her this morning).

“You have a girlfriend?” Jacob is quick to cut into the conversation. You just nod. “How did I not know?”

“I don’t know, Jacob,” you breathe out. “I don’t really go around announcing it to people.”

“But there are usually signs!” your coworker protests.

At that, you shrug.

“Who’s to say that your girlfriend wouldn’t be into it?” Ava directs the conversation back her way.

You glance to Melissa, who won’t even look up from her meal. “Just trust me when I tell you, my girlfriend does not appreciate the fact that you flirt with me.”

“Well, what’s her name?” Janine asks from her corner of the room. “I wanna meet her!”

You laugh at that. “Lissa,” you tell them. And nobody figures out that that’s the nickname you have for the redhead in the room. Everybody at Abbott, or at least everybody who has been deemed worthy of calling her by a nickname, calls her “Mel”.

“Alyssa?” Mr. Johnson makes his own presence known. “She hot?”

Your ears turn pink. “I wouldn’t be dating her if I didn’t think she was. But enough about me,” you try to diffuse the situation. “Can we-”

Ava turns to you after a few seconds of scrolling through her phone. “You don’t know no ‘Alyssa’.”

“What do you mean?” you raise a brow in her direction.

The principal shoves her phone in your face. “I just looked through Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, even your Venmo for anyone under that name. There ain’t nobody there. You making a girlfriend up so I stop flirtin’ with you, ain’t you?”

“I am very much not,” you reply. “I do have a girlfriend.”

Ava hums. “I don’t believe you, but if that’s the story we’s goin’ with, sure thing, baby boo. Just give me a call when you decide that you want a piece of this fine-”

“Enough!” Melissa finally shouts. “Enough!”

“Woah,” the principal’s eyes go wide as she stares at the redhead. All other heads in the room whip around to look at the second grade teacher sitting next to you. “What’s got your panties in a twist? I’m just flirting with-”

“Flirting with my girlfriend!” your girlfriend explodes. “Quit flirting with my girl, unless you want me to take Edith Houghton to your damned head!”

As if to prove a point, Melissa grabs your hand and shows it off. “She’s mine,” the woman practically growls. “And I swear to God, if you make one more comment towards my girlfriend about how hot she is or about how you want her- I will make you regret it!”

Ava’s eyes go wide, and her hands fly up so quickly in surrender that her phone drops to the floor. “Shit. Okay.”

Everybody else can only watch in slight horror as the redhead continues to point her fork in your boss’s direction. 

“Listen, I just thought that-”

“You thought wrong,” Melissa grits out. “Not another word out of you about her.”

“Okay, okay,” Ava backs down. “Damn, Schemmenti. Good on you though. She-”

You have to practically hold your girlfriend back as she goes to lunge at the principal. 

Ava quickly runs out of the room and back into her office, coffee forgotten and probably fearing for her life at this point.

Melissa huffs and rights her shirt before holding your hand again and taking a deep breath. You ground her quickly with a few squeezes to the hand in your own. She pulls her chair closer to yours and drops your hand before wrapping an arm around you and silently daring anybody to make any comments about the outburst that had just taken place.

You see the way that they’re all staring at you and your girlfriend though, so you just settle for a weak, “Surprise?”

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