#bead roller

[hoffmankustoms]

Fixing a rusted fender. Made this end piece enjoying my Friday.

[aryomengrande]

the tiger of the west junior high has reached his destination ! this apt will host karaoke and movie marathons—all for yuji and his favorite girl, jay ! thank you for stopping by at the apt, @itadoreyu ! come see us again in the future ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

rara's favorite random game | © aryomengrande 2023

…but wait ! these guests have arrived on an important day for the host ! taylor swift, who has been a great influence to her craft, celebrates her 35th birthday today ! upholding swiftie tradition, she’s handing out a bunch of friendship bracelets, made specially for yuji and jay ♡

to me fearless isn't not having fears, it's not that you're not afraid of anything. i think that being fearless is having a lot of fears, but you jump anyway. - taylor swift

[cutiepieautistic]

Wooden roller bead fidget! Handmade by me! F2u,with credit!

[raptorrobot]

what fidget toy do you guys think would have fixed icarus . because in my heart i know that there's one out there

[frillshop]

Polymer Clay Bead Rollers - StPiranStudio on Etsy

1. mushroom / 2. tree

3. candy / 4. hot air balloon

[thefinestbrandofeefa]

im ashamed to say that for about 2 nights i have been wondering what the rattling was in my bed but just have neglected to check. its like half of my pencil. case. i have been sleeping with like 6 pens, one pencil and a tippex roller

[caesarsaladinn]

I need to get one of those stim necklaces, not for me, but for my parrot so she’ll stop trying to chew on my earrings

[stardust-swan]

Everyday Ways I Honour Aphrodite

(NSFW warning)

🌹Roses, roses, roses. Rose soap, rose lip balm, rose hand cream, rose lotion, rose perfume, rose oil on my pillow before falling asleep, rose candles, rose incense, roses in my garden, rosewater toner, rose face mist, rose shower gel, dried roses in the bath... Just roses everywhere you can fit them.

🌹Reading romantic books and poetry, watching romance films

🌹 Reading books and poetry about Aphrodite

🌹Making myself feel beautiful with pretty jewellery and makeup. Even just a swipe of tinted lip balm boosts my confidence (I use French Girl Rose Noir). I try to wear at least a little bit of makeup or jewellery daily, even if it's just a pair of studs or a subtle lipstick

🌹 Even if I'm just staying at home all day I'll spray perfume and put on jewellery and do lipstick just to feel sensual while I'm lounging around playing Animal Crossing (currently wearing a comfy embroidered nightie, small gold hoops, a pretty bracelet and a little bit of YSL Orange Perfecto lipstick as I write this)

🌹 Embracing my sensuality. Swaying my hips, feeling the softness of my body, dancing freely, engaging in self-pleasure, taking nudes, trying to unlearn the shame associated with sexuality from my upbringing. I don't watch porn often as I find most of it unhealthy and misogynistic (I only like this one random Japanese couple's channel and some vintage and Korean softcore), but I enjoy toys (my favourite is the rose), erotic literature, erotic film, audio porn (usually in other languages because I find a lot of dirty talk just makes me cringe but I still get enjoyment out of hearing little moans and silky low voices so I get that and avoid secondhand embarrassment from bad dirty talk by listening to it in languages I don't understand), and erotic fine art.

🌹 I try to get really comfortable when I'm engaged in self love. Lipstick and perfume on, hair styled, lingerie or nightie that makes me feel sexy, a candle lit or rose, ylang ylang and jasmine oil in my diffuser, soft music playing. Then I'll position myself comfortably, and stroke my thighs, tease my nipples, squeeze my breasts, lick my juices off my fingers and use it like a lipstick, painting my lips and nipples or using it to lightly lubricate my clitoris. Running my hands all over my belly, thighs and breasts, experimenting with different types of pressure and stimulation. Just luxuriating in the sensual feelings I can bring to my beautiful female body.

🌹 Wearing jewellery with seashells, pearls, emerald, ruby, bronze, copper, gold, jade, garnet and iridescent beads

🌹 Enjoying apples, honey, figs, pomegranates, strawberries, raspberries, olives, lettuce, rosewater and chocolate. I like buying Guylian chocolates as they're seashell shaped, but any chocolate will do (my favourite chocolate bar to buy is white chocolate with strawberries). I also like foods that you can taste the rosewater in like rose macarons and Turkish delight.

🌹 Making foods with ingredients she likes, like honey cakes, Persian rose love spell cookies, rosewater nougat, Persian love cake, baklava, cornes de gazelle, mhencha, etc... I mostly stick to Mediterranean, North African, Arab and Persian recipes, as they commonly use ingredients like rosewater, honey, pomegranates, and figs.

🌹 Carrying rose quartz in my pocket and keeping rose quartz under my pillow

🌹 I use a rose quartz roller to massage oil into my face

🌹 I keep a mini Venus de Milo statue and a swan trinket box on my bedside table

🌹 Drinking a drink made up of honey, cinnamon, milk and hot water at night to relax

🌹 Wearing pretty lingerie under my clothes, even if it's a basic outfit

🌹 I often fall asleep to the sound of ocean waves

🌹 Gold highlighter swept on my cheeks and body shimmer on my collarbones, reflecting light like sun rays on the ocean

🌹 Doing little offerings, like spritzing her statue with perfume, or offering up a portion of food I'm eating that I think she'd like

🌹 Lighting incense in scents like myrrh, frankincense, rose, vanilla, cinnamon, ginger and jasmine

🌹 Drawing myself relaxing baths with fragrant oils and salts

🌹 Reading hymns, Sappho's poetry, and listening to Athanati Afroditi

🌹 Listening to music that's romantic or sensual (this is my playlist)

🌹 Carrying a hand mirror and admiring myself as I check my makeup

🌹 Adding honey to tea

🌹 Writing letters and poetry about love and beauty

🌹Admiring women I find beautiful without jealousy or resentment, just appreciation

🌹Using these emojis: 🌹🦢🌊🪞🍎❤️💘💗💕💋🕊️🫒💄

🌹 Wearing pink, red, aqua, and seafoam green

🌹 Being consistent in self care. No matter how low my spoons are, unless I'm so dog-tired I end up falling asleep on the couch at 8pm, I force myself to do my evening skincare routine - cleansing, toning, eye cream, moisturiser, oil. And I always feel better for it even if I was exhausted before. Much smaller but I'm also consistent in oiling the ends of my hair daily and spraying perfume before bed. And I keep up with getting my hair done and brows waxed every three months without fail.

🌹 Doing exercises that make me feel sensual. I'm really lazy tbh but I push myself because I know Aphrodite would want me to take care of my body. I pick exercises that make me feel good and desirable, like yoga flow, belly dance, and exercises that target my womanly attributes.

🌹 Giving compliments!

🌹 Doing a big self care day every Friday (the day associated with her). Hot oil hair treatment, foot soak and exfoliation, removing old nail polish and buffing and filing nails, face mask, teeth whitening....

🌹 Going to the pond in winter and admiring the swans

🌹 Going to an art gallery in my city just to look at the painting Venus and Cupid (Day) by Fragonard

🌹 Sleeping on silk sheets as they feel sensual (they're also good for your hair and skin)

🌹 Making my own diffusers and cosmetics from natural, aphrodisiac products. Homemade bath salt with rose petals and pink salt, homemade lip mask with olive oil and rose oil, and adding oil of rose, jasmine, sandalwood, and cinnamon to a diffuser as I find these scents stimulating and sensual.

🌹 And of course, thanking Lady Aphrodite every day.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Coriolanus x commander's daughter!! I've never seen anyone writing this but that would be so hot and forbidden

Request: Getting manhandled by peacekeeper!Coryo or getting fucked while he's in uniform or both YES PLEASE

Note: Birthdays should be spent doing the things you like...so I finished this one today. Enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, uniform kink, semi-public fingering + oral (f receiving), forbidden relationship,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Coriolanus Snow made a lot of stupid choices in his eighteen years of living, but having an affair with his commander’s daughter took the cake. The clandestine romance was risky and could, at extreme extent, get him executed for inappropriate conduct, but the fire that surged through your whole body every time you were together was addicting. 

The first time you saw him, you were searching around for your father, having a message to deliver to him in person from the head commander. You kept your head high and stayed on your guard as you walked through the heap of peacekeepers in training, not wanting to look like a lost puppy among them. 

You could usually find your way around the base, but today was scorching hot, so you decided to look for someone who would be kind enough to help you get to him. 

A row of younger soldiers caught your eye. They were doing push-ups in their singlets, beads of sweat dripping down the side of their faces. As you were trying to pick which shaved head you were going to ask help from, one of them stood out near the end of the line. 

Walking up to him, you couldn't help but silently admire the way his arms would flex as he continued the push-ups. Damn. Your stomach clenched at the sight. 

‘’Excuse me?’’ You cleared your throat and he looked up, surprising you with the prettiest pair of blue eyes. ‘’Could you help me find Commander Hoff? I have something to deliver to him from the head Commander.’’

The blond cocked an eyebrow, uncertain if he should be helping you. It was his first time seeing you on the base. ‘’And you are to him..?” he prompted, staring you down as his mind embarked a sinful roller-coaster of thoughts. 

‘’His daughter.’’

Although well aware of the dangers, Coriolanus couldn’t stop seeing you. And neither could you. You were addicted to his mouth and the way he could lift you up with ease and fuck you while standing, how his toned chest felt under your palms and attractive he looked in his blue uniform. 

After you bid your parents goodnight, you changed out of your day clothes and ventured to where you knew all peacekeepers spent their nights at. You didn’t know for sure that Coriolanus was at the Hob, but the barracks were all empty and he didn't have many friends in District 12 besides Sejanus, so it seemed likely he would be there.

It didn’t take long for him to notice you in the bar, your dress brighter in color and certainly shorter than the locals. Your eyes met across the room for a brief moment, then you disappeared through the backrooms, confident that Coriolanus would follow suit. 

You could hear his boots on the floors, slowly catching up to you. Your heart quickened its pace behind your chest, excitement building. 

It wasn’t until you made it outside that he called you out. ‘’What are you doing here, Miss. Hoff?’’ he asked, his voice echoing in the dark alley. 

Your feet came to a stop. 

Coriolanus stepped forward, slowly closing the distance between you. ‘’The Commander wouldn’t want his darling daughter in a place like this.’’ Your back was now pressed against his front, an agreeable warmth in contrast to the night air. Coriolanus’s mouth moved to your ear. ‘’A place full of men who would like nothing more than dipping it in your tight cunt.’’

His words should have disgusted you, but they were speaking the truth. These men inside were drinking more than they should and no one was really stepping up for the women they were harassing. With the skirt of your dress hitting above your knee, some could associate it as provocative or inviting. 

You turned to face him, biting your bottom lip when you noticed his uniform button up partially undone, revealing a glimpse of his white undershirt. 

‘’I shall accompany you back to the base.’’ Coriolanus grabbed you by the arm, but you protested. 

He was much stronger than you, so he easily grabbed both of your wrists with a hard squeeze and pinned you against the closest brick wall. You gasped, then quickly realized what game he was playing and you’d be damned if you didn’t play along. 

‘’Are you going to arrest me, Mr. Peacekeeper?’’  

Coriolanus’s grip on your wrists tightened, a stern command following.  ‘’No talking.’’ 

You could feel your own wetness starting to pool between your legs, aroused by the unfolding situation. The game. The play of power. 

His other hand moved from your waist to your hip, slipping underneath the fabric of your dress. He went over the curve of your ass before venturing between your legs to rub you over your panties, but he was met with a surprise. Coriolanus cocked an eyebrow. ‘’No panties tonight?’’

‘’I was hoping to run into you.’’ 

‘’Naughty girl.’’ His fingers started moving over your folds, coaxing a needy moan from you. 

Your jaw dropped as he pushed two long fingers in, making you clench around them. Coriolanus did a scissor motion, then curled them inside, eliciting another moan. ‘’Fuck me.’’  

Coriolanus shook his head. ‘’Sorry, darling. I don’t take any commands from civils.’’ 

‘’Please.’’ 

You could feel his smug smile behind your neck as the words left your tongue. ‘’What would your daddy say if he knew what his little girl was begging me to do to her?’’ Coriolanus pushed his fingers deeper, making you mewl, so needy for him. 

He withdrew his fingers, letting you assume he was going to unbuckle his pants and finally take you, but Coriolanus turned you around and sank to his knees in front of you. The dirt on the ground will dirty his uniform, but he didn’t seem to care. Coriolanus looked up at you, then hooked your leg over his shoulder, leaning forward to kiss the inside of your knee.

You slipped a groan of approval when his mouth got closer to where you wanted him. Then, his tongue ran between your folds, circling your clit slowly. A loud, desperate moan echoed around the dark alley. Coriolanus pinched your thigh, a silent reminder to be quiet. He loved when you were loud, but the Hob was full of peacekeepers. If anyone were to see you together, Coriolanus would be in trouble.

His huge hands sank into your ass, squeezing at the same time he sucked your clit into his mouth. You reached to grab onto something, to keep you from being so loud, but found nothing other than Coriolanus’s buzzed head. 

‘’Coryo…’’ you whimpered.

In the matter of minutes, he had turned you into a whimpering mess. Back arching away from the wall, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

One of his hands moved from my ass, and when you looked down, a pair of blue eyes was staring back at you. They stay burning into you, watching you closely as two of his fingers slide into you, finding that one perfect spot in less time than you need to say his name. 

His pace increased as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue. If the wall wasn’t holding you up, you would have toppled over by now. The feeling kept building, the heel of your shoe digging into the hard muscles of his back as you desperately tried to move your hips to ride his fingers. 

You were wound so impossibly tight you couldn’t breathe. ‘’Coryo, I’m going to cu—’’ 

You didn’t even get the words out as every part of you spasmed, everything tingling and throbbing as you tightened around him. Below you, Coriolanus moaned, the taste of you welcomed on his tongue. 

When he removed his fingers and mouth, he leaned back so he could look up at you properly. He grinned like a devil, his lips glistening with your juices as he sucked his fingers into his mouth.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802  @CZARINERA @katherinejess  @cookielovesbooks-akie

Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo @heart-helmet  @javden @definitelykyles @pumkinnroses @pepperonipastas  @arzua10 @upwritingallnight @cruzgrecia @evelestrange  @caitlin222 @mingukkieposts @lucygreene @mimirocha @sunnysunny133696  @10ava01 @aesthetixhoe @moonquarrel  @mus_tbe_a_weasley  @under-seasoned-pasta @nowitsmissing

[gladiatorcunt]

- # LEMON SUGAR !

flew like a moth to you (sunlight)

cw: weird pet play, reader has a vagina, large age gap (reader early 20’s & logan is…. not), HEAVY PISS KINK, dirty yucky icky gross vibes, xmen 2 coded logan, dad (father figure) bf talk and behaviors (old man, kiddo, dad, essentially lifestyle dom-ing you) anal plug mention, praise kink but one usage of ‘bitch’ and ‘toilet’, reference to a canon scene with jean but in this au she was just clowning on him as a friend, scogan crumbs, mentally ill & unhinged!reader, self objectification/dehumanization (?), reader: “i wish a/b/o was real :(”, pt.2 to . bc the dynamic might be confusing, implied unaware mutant!reader

do not copy, translate, or feed this work to ai

1k event. / please consider commissioning me

Logan doesn’t slap his tip against your cheek more than a quick initial love tap (if a tight awkward handshake from a man decades older than you was a sexual act) but he loves to force your head against his crotch and really massage it into your skin. His other hand holds his dick like he’s aiming to piss, a slight scowl twisting his lips because he’s trying to concentrate. His cigar hangs out of his mouth and his bulky hips swivel as he grinds his precum into your face, cheeks, around your eyes, lips, check check check.

He doesn’t even necessarily want you to suck him off that bad and he’s not even trying to cum. orgasming is a slower pursuit for him these days anyway. He just wants to dirty his puppy up a little, enrichment and whatever the fuck. Maybe you can make a game of trying to catch the salty droplets on your tongue, see if you can spot them when they’re about to gush out and trickle down.

An activity can both be a perverted parlor trick and a form of indulgent self care that trivial things like ice rollers or under eye patches couldn’t replace.

“There we go, atta puppy.” Logan chuckles and ruffles your hair when you manage to lick away a bead of precum before it can drip down out of your reach.

“Daddy, don’t tease. ‘m trying to focus, that’s rude.” You give him a good shake, smiling wildly.

You’re already drunk and loopy just huffing the pure musk emanating from his uncut cock. You hum as the salty tang of his juices taint your tastebuds, luxuriating in the aftertaste like you were chowing down on a dainty macarron. He doesn’t really believe in eating or drinking anything special to make his crotch and the things it produces taste better. You couldn’t be more happy about that, the whiskey sour twang riding on the flavor notes were much more preferable than some biblical concoction of milk and honey. If only it was more acidic, that way it could burn a hole through your tongue and your cervix. Marking you so thoroughly from the deepest parts of your soul, you’d always be empty and every pang of pain would call for the man that caused it to soothe your burns with his saliva.

Intimacy with Logan feels like you’re reconnecting in whatever version of the garden of Eden can exist on Earth. Why can’t it be here? With you on your knees so close to barking into the skin of your old man’s cock, a fancy cushion settled under you with little golden tassels hanging off the corners. You are always so willing to be the best you can be for him, but he’ll never allow your service to come at the price of individual pain. Your eyes flutter and you take one of your many breaks to plunge your nostrils into his thick bush.

Wooden and spicy, your favorite perfume that is undeniably raunchy yet sensuous and romantic. Natural. You never thought you could be so in love with how a man’s pubes smell, but you can’t say that you thought that any part of this would have become your life’s purpose in more ways than not. Logan chuckles and pats your cheek, enamored with how clearly you seem to be enjoying suffocating yourself in his groin. He sharply inhales through his nose when you move up to trail your tongue along his happy trail, lapping at the thinner hairs because you adore each one just as much as every part of him.

“Bet you wish you could live off my dick, don’t ya, bunny?”

Of course you nod and moan as you let yourself be pulled back to where you’re supposed to be, the mothership calls you home and you answer happily with your phantom tail wagging all the way.

You pant, digging your nose bridge into the crease where his hip bleeds into his inner thigh, “Mmfh- hah… tastes good, Daddy. I could die here…”

You wanted to cut your voice break of ‘Daddy’ short, but you haven’t arrived at that particular station in your subconscious to shed your skin entirely. You’re having trouble forming a coherent line of thought and finishing your sentences now, but you feel sheepish about how easily he can box you into going nonverbal, so you clamor to stay afloat.

You forget that Logan knows your game by now, every step and caveat and every miniscule and complicated rule. It’s cute how you’re still ashamed of letting your dear old dad see you in all of your bunny-puppy-deer-kitty pet glory, when he clocked that shit the minute your shaky eyes fixated on his truck’s glove box rather than make a second of eye contact with him. You’re fucked up, there’s something fractured deeper in you that you keep under a diary shaped lock and key, but all these jagged edges have bows teetering on their precipices.

You’ve let him put them there, with a fond eyeroll and heaps of head pats. Thank your lucky stars that there’s something fucked up with his psyche too, buried under all his other baggage, because that first ride home with you didn’t end in tears and your nipples caught in his canines. You got to be a bunny settling down in their deserved cozy den instead of a rabbit relying on their prey instincts to throw the predator chasing them off their twitching fuzzy cotton tail.

You don’t get to hide and shrink in yourself. Not when the curled up needy angel hidden under the layers of you makes his jaw ache so ferociously that it’s borderline bestial.

Baby, you’ve gotta know that if he could, he’d pick you up with his teeth by your scruff so your feet would never have to touch the ground and grow ripe with callouses.

He takes a puff from his cigar and shakes the excess ash over your shoulder, out of your view because he also knows that you’d try to swallow the unhealthy specks down too. It’s a constant thing on his mind, the never ending job of pulling your leash enough to wean you off of engulfing whatever weird shit into your mouth you can see out of the corner of your eye. And if it comes from him or was in contact with him? Hell, the stuff might as well be damn catnip to you.

He thinks he feels the same way about you, that’s what he gets for being stupid enough to have an inch of his heart unguarded. You found a way and wormed your way through his arteries, and now he’d rather go sober cold turkey than let you squirm away. Which is what you try to do by pulling back and settling soft hands on his hairy and beefy thighs.

He’s got you hook, line, and sinker when he clasps a burly hand around the base of his thick cock in the poor imitation of a knot. He even squeezes in short pulses, bringing to mind what it would look like swelling up and pumping you full of potent cum. Breeding you with all the love of a man who wants more of you in the world because that might make him believe in it again. He wags his length in his hand to you, wordlessly offering you your favorite snack because you’ve been so very good for your old man.

“Come on, hun, want your treat? I know my puppy wants this big dick in their cute fuckin’ mouth.” He grumbles, stubbing his cigar out on his arms without even flinching or gritting his teeth and tossing it on the floor.

The burn’s already healed by the time you’ve gotten yourself and obediently let your tongue hang out of your mouth. He grunts, pleased, and dabs his sticky tip on the center of your tongue. It gives you the taste you crave while simultaneously depriving you of having your mouth filled like you desperately need to be able to get through the day.

You whine, Logan’s lips split on a wry smile but he doesn’t laugh this time. Nah, he’s too busy feeding his throbbing cock into your mouth, cutting off your whining and reducing a thunderous sound to a muffled crack of lightning.

“Theeeeeeeeere we go, kiddo, relax.” He says a few inches in, because your gag reflex is already tickling the back of your throat.

You breathe through your nose and distract yourself by playing with the hairs on his legs, drawing little hearts and stars as you take more of his length. Tears well up in your pitiful eyes but you brave through it. They eventually bubble over as your lips are forced to stretch, but Logan’s rough thumb dutifully wipes them away just like how you’d attentively cleaned his tip.

His head falls back with a slight crack and his sweaty pecs heave, “Drank a whole lot for you today, ‘m all nice and backed up just waitin’ for a pretty lil’ thing to relieve myself with.”

Suddenly you’re a bunny hopping off on a mission, no god could pull you off of Logan’s musky cock as you swallow around him. You don’t really feel like bobbing your head and humming today, you’re tuckered out from how late he kept you up late last night. He’s not going to just fuck your mouth without being asked, as much as he cares about you, you’re impossibly cute when you’re forced to do the tiniest bit of work.

If your mouth wasn’t so stuffed full of dick you’d pout, and the raised eyebrow Logan gives you means he knows that. You’re a good pet though, so you work yourself off of his length, take a deep breath, and immediately slide back down to the hilt. His full balls press against your chin and you rub the heavy sacks with both hands.

“Oh, fuck.” Logan groans, his fingernails dig into your scalp like he’s the one that needs to stay grounded. “Your gonna make your old man jizz his pants too quick if you keep fuckin’ playin’ with my balls like that.”

You don’t mind that at all, but there's still something else you’re after. You didn’t think much of how many bottles of water and glasses of alcohol he had thrown back today, maybe it was some sort of mutant thing that you just didn’t understand. Super dehydration or whatever, but the fact that he had been preparing a little surprise for his piss thirsty puppy made you want to give him your bloody heart right out of your chest.

His moans and growled promises of rewards and declarations of the rawest form of love a person could feel fade into the background. You hollow your cheeks and go for gold, wet ‘schlop!’-ing sounds bounce off the walls as you fuck your throat with his girthy cock. Not the longest in the world, another one of your blessings (you’ve heard mutterings about mission showers and some guy that shoots lasers out of his eyes taking that prize), but the way it fills up the space in your mouth to the point it could burst gives your clit tachycardia.

“Yeah, fuck, are you ready to drink up, bitch? ‘m gonna use you like a toilet, gonna cum too- god fuckin’ damn-”

You give his balls a solid squeeze as the golden shower pours down your throat and past the seam of your lips to the floor. You don’t stop your ministrations, you actually speed up your pace and bring your wrists into it. Your hands bumping against his imitation knot-hand as you move them in circles, jacking him off while your plush lips glide up and down his cock.

You’re rubbing your pussy against the cushion, it has corduroy buttons that send a tingle down your spine when they catch your clit. The emerald green fabric drags and moves as you hump it while you put your all into making your dad-boyfriend-everything cum. You’re outright bouncing his heavy balls in your hands now, they’re so full you know that one load isn’t going to be nearly enough. So you tell yourself to lock in and hum, sending vibrations down his dick.

Determined puppies get extra treats, and you’ve never gone without them. So you push yourself to make eye contact, flicking your eyes up to stare at Logan as you ruin your own throat via his dick like it was nothing more than your toy. You think it’s the sheer and essentially licentious mannerisms and the glaringly obvious truth that there are men who are not immune to watching a pretty pet posturize themselves on an altar of their own making just to paw at their owner’s legs.

“My baby bunny, too damn sweet to me, yessssss-” His mouth wrenches up almost in pain as he clings to the back of your head and pounds your throat on his own for the next minute.

“Drink it all up, let me feel you swallow it down f’r me.”

You purposefully yank yourself off of his mid stream and duck down to bob his balls on your tongue, lathering them in that pungent scent. You rotate your wrist around his tip, coaxing him to empty everything he has in him and give it all to you. Your hand becomes just as scent marked as his balls and the divots in your collarbone where drops of his piss and cum are forming tiny pools.

He groans at the sight, “Doing so fuckin’ well, collectin’ Daddy’s juices and hoardin’ ‘em all for yourself.”

Your mouth envelops his twitch dick once more, most of what Logan keeps cooped up for you belongs in your growling tummy.

“You better not hiss at me when I have to wash your mouth out later, baby.”

Thus, your perfect record remains intact, you beam around his still hard dick as you float in a starless sea of white and yellow. A coat rack for cock fulfilling its duties.

His piss isn’t too orange-y, you’re glad you don’t have to nag him about cutting back on the booze this time.

Sadly there’s no blood sticking to your scalp from his nails, but you embrace the sting their indents leave behind. They’re almost as breathtaking as the plug buried in your ass, Dad always likes to keep your holes stretched out and ready.

—————————————————————————

“Girls flirt with the dangerous guy, Logan. They don’t bring him home. They marry the good guy.”

With you, he was that good guy. Whatever it meant to be one after all these years and invisible scars. It’s indescribable, how much meaning you can find in having to gain the strength to take care of someone else completely. Be their Atlas and shoulder the world so they can waltz around you, their wings spread wide. He’s glad, deep down, that your wings don’t extend past the small house he’s stuffed you in.

Logan Howlett deserves a nice thing or two every once in a while, and he already got a bottle of scotch from Scott. Fucker thinks he’s so clever. You’d do just fine being the second nice thing. A shame that the nicest thing you probably have is that slick stained cushion, he’s not anybody to write home about. But you seem to have stitched your sides together when he wasn’t looking, sewn your identity into his until you had emotionally fused into one being.

It happened way too fast and when he thought he wasn’t meant for loving a little pup like you, but he’s tired of being some old grump about it. You’d probably snap and try to beat him to a pulp with the bats he keeps in the closet (for you to use in emergencies since you don’t leave), and he’d have to hunt you down through the

Anything else other than you meant about as much to him as a pile of cigarette butts.

And some time later when the dam bursts for the first time and you’re trying not to fall off that cliff, sisyphus-esque struggling through recurring hoarse sobs because Logan is uncomfortably stroking your back gently as if you were a person and not a corpse, you’ll start to feel the molten hot gold seeping in and filling the cracks.

Maybe one day you can tell him about the v-shaped scars on your back, the ones that look like they were created when something was ripped away from you. They’re slanted craters, almost, hard material resembling bone jutting out from your back. Hooks lacking their ornaments.

Hell snatch up your old fashioned grocery list (written with an almost completely dried out ink pen from the bank on a flimsy college ruled sheet of paper) and make a quick run while you heal more than just your body, submerged in another acid trip of a dream.

You wanted to make a lemon cake before the summer ended, it’s always been your favorite.

[cutiepieautistic]

Pilby stimboard

×/×/× ×/× ×/×/×

[madafanz]

Atzi & Xio being silly kidz (also i love fashion <3)

Thingz about Xio’s fit:

-Heavily “quiet-emo-goth-anime-queer-art-middle schooler” coded (i was that kid lol) almost gave a beanie tbh I might in the future

-zip up skeleton face hoodie

-lots of Easter eggs with the patches on their boots

- twilight is their fave pony :D

Thingz about Atzi’s Fit:

- Beaded friendship necklace from Xochi (they match although I gotta go back and fix Xochi’s now😭)

-headcannon she does roller derby/ skates & has heelys on lol

-Rainbow dash is her fave pony

Both have braces bc they’re kids & I like braces lol

[dreamgrlarchive]

A Prissy Girl’s Guide to Fall

back by popular demand, i’m here with another prissy girl guide! this post is a bit late for the fall but it’ll allow you to finish the season off in a pretty fashion, and transition to the winter smoothly. i’ll be discussing the look i’ve been adorned in as of late and my fav products i’ll be using for the spirit of fall! 💓

what’s the look this fall?

the look this season is “divalicious barbie.” voluminous hair, tapered square nails and fur details + neutral color palettes. add in a few pops of pink and some sparkly detailz and you got my look this fall. “sexy chic.” i’ve been really leaning into the vibe of a runway supermodel diva emulsion. as you may have seen, my birthday outfit drew from many inspirations, focally the early nineties alaia runway shows. just immense glamour, class and girliness with a healthy dose of sexy.

“it's officially fall bbys. uggs, tracksuits, sew ins are in”

“in are warm scents, fur, leopard prints, brown lip gloss with voluminous blowouts for the fall to enhance my diva essence!”

- @realprissygrl on twitter 🎀

first and foremost…

the weather is turning so a lot of us are catching colds. take care of your health and rest. protect your immune system and dress according to weather. i almost always get sick around late september/early october and its because of the dip my immune system takes due to the change in climate.

preparation

some of you are in school like me. one of the reasons the fall is my fav season is because it’s time to get back to the basics. you should be developing new study routines around this time or perfecting the ones you have already

new school supplies + stationery. pretty girls deserve to stay stocked up on glitter ink and fuzzy pens

start saving money for the holiday season

get a handle on your halloween look early so not to scramble when the day comes

stock up on tea, immune boosters like emergen-c and medicine

start going outside in the morning to get the vitamin D and K you may lose out on as the seasons turn

set new goals and track them in a diary or planner

try to get well rested. the change from fall to winter can cause a lot of mood and energy complications due to lack of rest

essentials

a metallic pink starbucks tumbler or stanley cup

new books to read this season

chai tea and espresso for at home lattes + a pink thermos for travel (mine is a barbie pink micro shimmer one by starbucks)

hello kitty pencil caps and planners

velcro roller kit

super cute straw toppers

juicy couture laptop case for school

dry shampoo and clean paddle brush

pink ipad for productivity

victoria’s secret anything

cute hydrophobic jackets + umbrella

cute planner, i take my corset planner everywhere

clothes and accessories

warm neutrals + pink

layers, layers, layers! i’ve been pairing fur vests/cardigans, and sheer tops

cheetah and leopard print (yes they’re different lol) i’m going for the galleria chanel look this season

preppy looks! tartan, tweed and pleats have been such an essential for me on class days

cute little purses that are only big enough for your phone, lip gloss and keys. they come rhinestoned, fur trimmed or beaded and go very well with preppy lookz

chocolate brown accessories and layers

rhinestones and pearls add the perfect diva touch to any look

hoops 4ever

diamond studs for when your hair is pulled back, the prettiest detail ever

velour tracksuits

shimmery neutral pieces

feathers and gold jewelry to achieve that regine hunter/hilary banks aesthetic

fur trims on sheer tops

fuzzy trimmed half jackets

neutral toned designer tote bags

leopard print totes

blacked out shades

berets

sheer tights including tights with patterns like lace and stripes

ted baker arycon bags. they’re affordable and super freaking cute

fuzzy knitted pieces

knee high socks

cute little pumps + kitten heels

leather booties

uggs… obviously

medium telfar in either ballerina, bubblegum or gold

rubber boots with cute details like metal buttons or fur

furry moon boots

apple watch + charm bracelet stacking

beauty

brown + pink all season. cinnamon strawberry dessert girl

tape ins + sew ins or clip ins for a budget

soft matte makeup. not too matte (winter) and not dewy (summer)

neutral eyeshadow with a pink glossy lip

voluminous side parted hair with velcro roller curls OR

pin straight silk presses with a middle part

adequate moisture in hair is imperative to ensure hairstyles last long and stay sleek. if my hair reverts too fast i know it’s because its dry

sparkly hair clips

deep pink, mauve and berry blushes

lip balms like tree hut, summers friday and patrick ta

high ponies and half up half down stylez

long curly lashes. my favs are by kiss and lilly lashes or sold on amazon in the pink packaging

invest in a metal roller brush (ulta has super cute pink ones omg) OR a round brush blow dryer to add body to hair

makeup by pat mcgrath and patrick ta for sparkly lookz

beauty blender cleanser is my fav for cleaning my brushes

lip glosses + lipstick in nude pink, nude, deep brown, and baby pink

tapered square french tipz and nude nails

eyeshadow palettes with blacks, reds, browns, grays, and creams. my favs rn are naughty nude and new nude by huda, glam palette by natasha denona and the master mattes by mario

claw clips have been my fav for cute updos

warm scents with notes of wood, oud, musk, cinnamon, pastry, soft florals and brown sugar

smoky eyes + smudged liner + wings

[ataliagold]

Slippery When Wet

For @astrangersummer week 6 prompt 'sweat.' Title from the Bon Jovi album.

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington

Rating: M (mild sexual content)

W/C: 965

Tags: Established Steddie, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, basketball, summer, sweat kink (mild but there), mild sexual content, Eddie can't keep his hands off Steve

Summary: On a sweltering July afternoon, Eddie watches Steve practicing basketball with Lucas, and struggles to keep his hands off him.

___

It was one pm on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of July, and Eddie was about to die.

Not literally, he supposed.

He knew what death felt like, and this wasn’t it – not quite.

But it was fucking hot, his t shirt was soaked through with sweat, frizzy hair pasted to the back of his neck and how was it this goddamn boiling even in the shade?

He sighed heavily. Mopped at his brow uselessly with his t shirt, adjusted the sunglasses he’d swiped from Steve earlier.

At least his view was good. Excellent, in fact.

Steve was coaching Lucas on the makeshift basketball court outside the boy’s garage. There was a hoop bolted above the roller door, some crude lines drawn in chalk on the concrete pad.

Most weekends Steve could be found here, doing his best to impart all the knowledge he had on the younger boy. Lucas was good, even Eddie’s untrained eyes could see that, and he was improving all the time under Steve’s guidance.

But he wasn’t quite as good as Steve.

Eddie shifted on his camp chair, shoved it further back into the little patch of shade, and let his eyes follow Steve as he jogged up and down the concrete.

He was openly leering now, but who could blame him?

In his defense, Steve’s shorts had ridden high up his thighs, his t shirt was basically see-through with sweat, and his hair was mussed and his skin tinged gold and moisture beading on his forehead…yeah, Eddie’s tight fucking jeans were about to be a problem, and not just because of how inappropriate they were for the weather…

Steve dribbled the ball effortlessly. Ducked left, then right as Lucas lunged for it, pivoting around the kid and throwing a small smirk towards Eddie.

If Steve wanted to play, Eddie was game.

He took a long sip from his beer bottle. Let the rim linger at his lips for a little longer than necessary, let the pink of his tongue slip between his teeth for a moment.

He returned Steve’s smirk when he saw his boyfriend’s expression heat up a little, cockiness fading as he watched Eddie’s mouth with hooded eyes, blinking slowly.

Lucas took the ball from him without much effort, leaping in and stealing it mid-bounce.

Steve cursed, darting after him again, but Lucas was already lining up his shot and sinking the ball cleanly into the hoop.

“That was Eddie’s fault,” Steve huffed.

Lucas rolled his eyes. “How? He’s not even on the court.”

“He…” Steve trailed off, flashed a look at Eddie, then focused back on Lucas. “Never mind. Let’s try that again.”

And the afternoon continued. Steve was distracted several more times by Eddie running his tongue over the lip of his bottle, or lifting his shirt up to wipe at his face, or groaning in a dramatic but somehow fucking hot fashion about the heat.

Finally, after saying goodbye to Lucas and driving back to Eddie’s place with the air con only succeeding in blasting warm air at them, Eddie got his hands on Steve.

As soon as he kicked the door shut behind them, Eddie was attaching his mouth to Steve’s neck, kissing open-mouthed and filthy at the salty skin there.

“Eddie,” Steve whined, half-heartedly pushing him away. “I’m gross, let me shower.”

Eddie shook his head and dived back in, making grabby hands at the hem of Steve’s shirt, dragging it up and over his head.

Steve huffed out a laugh as Eddie practically licked at the newly exposed skin, tonguing over his shoulder and collarbone, running fingernails through the hair on his chest and digging in just a little too hard until Steve hissed and threw his head back.

“What’s gotten into you?” he murmured, gripping Eddie’s waist now.

“You soon, hopefully,” Eddie grunted, mouthing across his jaw.

“I’m sweaty and disgusting, Eds,” Steve argued again, but his chest vibrated with a soft laugh as Eddie only tugged him closer.

“Not disgusting,” Eddie mumbled, voice slurred as he ground up against Steve’s thigh, the skin bare under the hem of his indecently short shorts.

“Oh?” Steve quirked an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re into this, huh?”

Eddie took a moment to shrug, then licked a small stripe up the side of Steve’s neck. “S’it…weird?”

Steve chuckled. “I mean, doesn’t bother me, if you’re sure you’re into me like…this.”

“Always into you,” Eddie settled in the hollow of Steve’s neck, just above his collarbone. “Just…you looked fucking hot out there today.”

“You think?”

Eddie hummed, ran a hand down Steve’s chest, across the plain of his sweat-slick stomach and the raised scars on his sides - touching because he could, because Steve was his and he was Steve’s and there was no one here to stop them.

Steve let his eyes fall shut, enjoying Eddie’s roaming hands, but then murmured as if suddenly remembering - “You know, Lucas is really improving. You know he scored more goals than me today? I think he’ll be off the bench this season for sure -”

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can we save this conversation for some time when I’m not hard?”

“Oh…sorry.”

Eddie bit his shoulder lightly, causing Steve to squeeze his eyes shut again and pant, the soft noise coming from his lips so lovely that Eddie did it again, just for good measure.

Steve shoved his ass back, meeting Eddie’s hips and Eddie nearly lost it on the spot, as worked up as he was.

Pupils blown, Steve turned to drag his gaze over Eddie, landing at the bulge behind his fly.

“Shall we do something about that?”

Sport metaphors be damned, Eddie grabbed his hand and dragged his boyfriend to his bedroom in what might’ve been a new personal best time.

___

[adore-laur]

GET MINE, GET YOURS

— your ex-boyfriend is a mechanic, and you still jump his bones on occasion ❤️‍🔥

——

2004

Heavy raindrops cascade off the roof of the mechanic shop, its metal shingles mottled with splotches of orange rust. The sight forms tight knots in your stomach as dreary storm clouds loom over the town. You stall outside for another minute, soaked pebbles crunching under the soles of your shoes as you pace near your car. 

After exhaling a quelling breath and rolling your shoulders back, you slowly walk toward the half-closed garage. Harry is running the shop all by himself this afternoon, working gruesome nine-to-fives just about every day of the week. You don't know how he does it, so you try to visit and keep him company once in a while.

Today, however, is different. The brakes on your car have been squeaking incessantly, and you know jack squat about anything car-related, so you had no choice but to ask your ex-boyfriend for help. 

Yes, your ex-boyfriend.

You would honestly rather listen to him drone on about all the intricate parts of an automobile than some wise guy who makes you feel stupid when you confusedly nod along and attempt to ask clarifying questions. Harry is much nicer about it. He simplifies terms for you while your mind drifts away to things much more interesting than the anatomy of axels and tires. For example, Harry's pink lips or the beautiful veins protruding from the backs of his hands.

You've gone to him with car problems before, but you mostly visit to hang out with him. It's never awkward since the breakup was mutual, and you are still on good terms. Plus, you find contentment in the routine of bringing him fast food and talking his ear off while he does the strenuous work. 

And so what if you still fuck him on the down-low?

There's nothing wrong with having no strings attached, especially since he gives you heavenly sexual experiences each and every time. It's not like it's a weekly thing, either. It's just that whenever you cross paths with him, it always ends up with his body hovering over yours and his cross necklace dangling above your bare chest. 

Unfortunately, you're not in the mood for that right now. The stress caused by your shitty car and having to probably pay a hefty amount of cash just to be able to safely drive anywhere has quickly turned your day sour. 

As you duck your head to enter the garage, the smell of rubber and oil instantly permeates your senses. The plug-in air freshener on the wall is doing the absolute bare minimum. Soft bass creeps into your eardrums, and a groovy R&B track plays from Harry's boombox sitting beside his reliable red toolbox. You grin and roll your eyes when you recognize the eminent growl of Christina Aguilera coming through the speakers. You're greeted with a song you'd never expect him to listen to whenever you visit. 

Turning your head to the left, you spot Harry working under a beat-up vintage Cadillac. He's lying down on a roller with his knees bent, metal clinking from whatever he's fixing. The black skinny jeans he's wearing are faded, and he's not wearing any shoes for some risky reason; only white socks cover his feet. 

"Hi, baby." Harry's voice rumbles, jolting you. You've told him to stop calling you that, but it falls on deaf ears every time. 

"How'd you know it was me?" you ask, running your fingertips across a stray wrench. 

He laughs huskily. "I can see your dirty ass sneakers from under here."

Before you can defend your mud-stained shoes, his hands grip the bottom edge of the car as he rolls himself out from underneath, revealing his face decorated with smears of grease and his long hair tied into a bun. It's been two weeks since you saw him last, give or take, and you swear he gets more physically buff each time. His biceps are practically bulging as he wipes beading sweat from his forehead, the sheened muscles filling out his grubby uniform deliciously.

You break away from your lustful trance and nod your head toward his boombox. "Stripped on cassette, huh? You keep on surprising me." 

"Is there a problem?" He slings a soiled rag over his shoulder.

"No, not at all," you reply lightheartedly. "It just isn't really a manly record to fix cars to." 

He teasingly sticks his tongue out and saunters over to you, bending down a bit before wrapping one arm around your waist and lifting you in a firm embrace. His mouth breathes warm air against your neck, and you can smell the spearmint gum he's been chewing.

"Came to visit me?" he murmurs as he gently sets you down, keeping a firm grip on your hip and hooking his middle finger through your belt loop. 

You pout and tell him, "My car is broken." 

He mimics your expression. "Yeah? What happened?" 

"I was driving home from the grocery store, and the brakes started squeaking out of nowhere." 

Harry stops smacking his gum and furrows his eyebrows. "And you drove all the way here without calling me?"

You grimace. "Please don't be mad." 

"You're not supposed to keep driving when your brakes are acting up," he says seriously. "You know better." 

"I didn't want to make you leave work," you reply, fidgeting with your hands. 

He softly tuts while flinging the rag somewhere behind him. "I would've come and gotten you if you had asked." 

You just shrug helplessly and look around the garage, admiring Harry's workspace, which completely encapsulates his personality, even though he shares the space with a coworker most days. Various cassettes are stacked haphazardly on a shelf, ranging from girl groups to classic rock to spa music for meditation purposes. He has an opened bag of organic potato chips on his workbench, the brand he always buys from the gas station just down the road. There's also a shallow pottery bowl in the corner where he puts his rings so they don't touch oil. 

He's a moody motherfucker, but you know all of his soft spots. 

"I'm guessing I'll be spending the entirety of my last paycheck on the repair," you mutter while wandering around, picking up random tools. 

Harry leans back against the car he's working on and crosses his arms. "It'll probably cost around two hundred dollars to replace the brake pad," he says. 

"What the hell?" you say incredulously. "You need to talk to your boss about lowering the prices around here." 

"I am the boss."

"Oh, that's right."

He laughs through his nose. "Negotiate with me about it, then. Convince me to lower the price." 

You stop in your tracks and stare at him, unimpressed with the upper hand he tries to have over you. "Nope. I'm not doing that." 

"Why not?" he asks. "C'mon, I'm bored out of my mind." 

You groan and stride over to stand in front of him. He's so hard to resist. "Fine. Will you please give me a discount?" 

Harry drags out a monotonous hum before plainly saying, "No." 

Standing on your tiptoes, you touch your nose to his and whisper, "Pretty please?" 

He narrows his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering against yours. "You're getting warmer." 

"I'll help you fix my car," you plead, willing to do anything to save a little money. "I'm really good at following instructions." 

"You are, sweetheart, but absolutely not." 

You frown and bury your face in his neck. He's sweaty, yet there's a hint of some pine-scented cologne coming through that drives you insane. "If I let you fuck me," you suggest boldly, leaving a slow kiss near his pulse point, "will you give me a discount?" 

Harry moves his head to look at you straight on, smiling smugly and using his teeth to stretch his gum across the tip of his tongue. "That's more like it." 

"But don't you have a car to fix right now?" you ask, feigning innocence to get under his skin. 

"Baby," he murmurs, "you can't come here and expect me to actually get work done. You're too distracting." 

You pinch his thigh through his jeans. "Stop calling me that." 

"No," he says softly. "You're still my baby." 

"Not anymore." 

"Then no discount for you." 

You scoff and step away from him. "Stop being a jerk, Harry." 

"Letting me fuck you just for a discount, hmm? Is that it?" He raises his eyebrows.

"You know I'd let you fuck me anyway," you admit under your breath. 

The muscles in his jaw twitch. "God, you give me whiplash." 

You get up in his face and say, "Yeah, well, you give me a headache."

His hand quickly reaches out to push the back of your head toward him, messily smearing his lips against yours. "I hate when you're like this," he mumbles into your mouth. "My baby's so stubborn when she doesn't get her way, isn't she?" 

You bite his bottom lip and tug on it before releasing it. "Don't want to be your baby." 

His hand gravitates toward the curve of your ass, squeezing just once. "Then tell me what you want."

"I want to be your brat."

Harry's head tilts as he visibly swallows. "Get on the couch," he orders lowly. "Face down, ass up." 

You grin, pleased to the max, and stroll over to the black leather couch in the back while Harry shuts the garage door for privacy. The screech of the lock makes you wince, and the sound of the pelting rain becomes muffled. The continuous drops on the roof match the speed of your racing heart. 

Placing your forearms on the cold, cracked leather, you bend your knees to get into position and tilt your head so your cheek rests on the cushion. Harry swiftly removes his hairband, his curls messily falling past his shoulders. Next, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his swallow tattoos and chest hair, both slick with sweat. His cross pendant rests perfectly against his skin as he comes up beside you and leisurely trails his fingers down your spine until they reach the waistband of your low-rise bell bottoms. 

Goosebumps erupt across your arms when his other hand goes to unbutton his skinny jeans. You can see his bulge strain against the tight material, and it makes you squirm impatiently. 

"Sit still," Harry says, pulling down his jeans. His black boxers and thigh tattoo are now directly in front of you. 

You pitifully moan when he crouches and grabs your wrists to place them behind your back. "Not fair," you grumble. 

"Oh, really? It's not fair that I'm about to fuck you." 

"You know what I mean." 

Harry tugs down your pants and underwear in one go, the material bunching at the back of your knees. He then takes his boxers off, placing one knee on the cushion and lining himself up as he grips the top of the couch to stay balanced. 

"Still on birth control?" he asks, planting a quick kiss on your shoulder blade. The cold metal of his necklace against your skin sends an avalanche of chills down the length of your spine. 

You nod, and Harry immediately thrusts into you. You gasp as the burning sensation spreads like wildfire all the way to your thighs, your hands clenching into tight fists as he continuously rocks deep strokes in and out. You whimper with each one, and Harry's hand holds your hair back in a makeshift ponytail to watch every pleasurable change of expression on your face. 

"You good?" He pants while slowing down his thrusts, keeping them long and purposeful. 

"I want to touch you."

His hips pound into your backside. "Yeah? Where do you want to touch me?" 

"Anywhere, just please let me." 

"I didn't know brats begged like whores," he says, tugging your hair. 

You wiggle your fingers behind your back, trying to touch his stomach, but it's to no avail. Harry stops thrusting, his hair hanging over his face as he looks down at you. "Want it that bad?" he says in awe.

You muster up fake tears and nod pathetically to get your way. "Please, daddy." 

It always works like a charm. Harry grunts and instantly pulls out, hastily sitting on the couch with his legs spread and grabbing your waist to make you straddle him. 

You kick off your pants and underwear the rest of the way, along with your shoes, then sink down on his cock, slowly grinding on him with your hands in his hair. You want to touch him everywhere, so you rub your palms down his chest and then hold both of his hands as you arch your back and tilt your head up toward the ceiling rafters. The new position tightens your orgasm more quickly, and the way Harry is desperately moaning with his hands clutching your thighs causes heat to prickle all over your body. 

"Such a pretty brat for me, right?" Harry praises you, kissing along your jaw and down your neck. "Getting your way like you always do." 

"Mm-hmm," you hum, every grind making your stomach rub against his, all sweat and smooth skin. "Only for you." 

He nips love bites along your collarbone. "It fuckin' better be. I don't want you doing this with anyone else." 

"And what if I do?" you ask, the slickness of your arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs. 

Harry opens his mouth with a scoffed moan when you circle your hips. "Th-think I'd die from jealousy." 

The fact that you got him to stutter makes you grind faster until his jaw is clenched and he's clawing scratches on your back. "What's there to be jealous about?" 

"That they get to stuff this tight pussy, and I don't." His eyes roll back as he starts to stimulate your clit with his thumb.

Not only is he a moody motherfucker, but he's a filthy one too. 

"You're doing it right now, though," you say, and Harry nods briskly. "Consider yourself lucky." 

"But I want to be the only one." 

"I know." You suddenly choke out a moan when your orgasm approaches. "I'm gonna come, Harry. Oh, God..."

"Me too," he says, his chest heaving. "Give me a good one, baby." 

You hold onto his shoulders and tense your thighs while you release, Harry stilling as well as his hips jerk to meet yours. You feel him fill you up, and after he runs himself dry, you fall against his body from exhaustion, whining into his neck as the pleasure consumes you. His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you in for a lazy hug while his cock slowly softens inside you. 

The rain pours outside, and the ambiance calms you down while your body relaxes. It reminds you of a time when things were easier, a time without complicated feelings or unresolved issues. 

Harry abruptly begins giggling, his chest raising with each breathy laugh. You join in, but you don't necessarily understand what's so funny. You lift your head to see deep dimples carved into his cheeks and the devastatingly gorgeous crinkles near his eyes. 

Once his laughter dies down, he says, "We just orgasmed at the same time to "Beautiful" by Xtina." 

"No way," you reply, breaking into more giggles. 

Harry starts cackling as the dramatic piano ballad plays from the boombox, possibly the worst song to listen to while having sex. It's so ridiculous that tears form in your eyes and your sides start hurting from laughing so hard. 

"We also just fucked with our socks on," Harry adds, resting his covered feet on the couch and wiggling his toes.

"Sexy." 

"Super sexy. And quite comfortable." 

You smile and glance at his lips, feeling an intense urge to kiss them, but you know you shouldn't. As soft as they look, it would only make things more complicated. Well, besides the fact that you still have sex with him. You're okay with the equal exchange of satisfaction, even though the emotional boundaries seem to blur more and more each time. 

"You can kiss me," Harry whispers. 

You swallow and shake your head, playing with the ends of his curls. "That's not what we do anymore. I get mine, and you get yours, remember? That's it." 

"You let me kiss you earlier," he points out. 

"That was a different kind of kiss." 

He just makes a disappointed face and lifts your hips so he can pull out. He then stands still, holding you with one arm, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he walks over to the boombox. 

"What should we listen to next?" he asks in your ear, delicately pressing a button to remove the black and white cassette. 

You tilt your head sideways and read the names on the stack of cassettes. "Hmm... how about Time and Form: Celestial Meditation? Sounds like the perfect soundtrack for aftercare." 

Harry snorts. "Shut up." 

You laugh and dig your heels into his lower back, wanting to be even closer to his bare skin. The full-fledged urge to kiss him returns again, this time with a bizarre wave of sadness. 

You can't. He's your ex. 

It would cross the line that was never really there in the first place, but it's a faint one, and it still matters. To you, to him, and to the stakes of what you are to each other. Yet you spend days and nights lying in bed, wondering if he'll call you on the old wall phone at the shop and ask you to come over just because. Or when he tells you he missed you when you do show up, hugging you tight and thanking you for lunch. Or when he's glum and sulky to everyone else but you, his face immediately lights up when you step into the room. 

It all means something, but you'll never allow it to become more than that. Just fleeting moments make up for the emptiness you felt when you stopped being romantically involved with him. It quells the ache, but only in real-time. Afterward, you go home to the apartment you live in by yourself, wishing he could follow you there and stay with you like he used to. 

You didn't cry when you broke up with him because you knew there would still be some sort of relationship present, even though it wouldn't involve dating. That's when you both agreed to keep having sex without the strings attached; however, the buried feelings you have always seem to burst into uncontrollable flames when he touches you. You'll never admit it, though, because a purely physical relationship with him is better than not having one at all. 

It'd be a shame to lose the fire where the smoke is. 

——