#i forgot to give him socks lol

[ffolty]

hispanic inspired outfit designs for Rick

im making a latino Rick and idk which clothes i like the most

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 

“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 

You kiss his cheek. 

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 

His eyebrows raise. 

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face. 

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again. 

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything? 

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 

“Do you want to?”

Woah. 

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how? 

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches. 

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 

The size sinks in a quick second later. 

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed. 

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his. 

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom. 

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck. 

He really wants to tell you right now. 

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 

“Stand up.”

You frown. 

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no. 

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply. 

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

-

part 3.5

[artslovergirl]

casual by chappell roan – but make it 2007

art donaldson x reader

notes: okay so, originally this was just a part of a larger fic based around the entire song but um,, i have adhd. so. you get it. but i really liked this part that i actually got done so i didnt want it to collect cobwebs in my google docs lol. but i might think about finishing the whole thing! maybe!

wordcount: 1.7k

Your body was buzzing and tingling in a pleasant and almost numb way. Like the feeling of calm waves lapping at your ankles after having a tidal wave crashed over you. Everything felt warm, most likely due to the late June air and Arts warm arms wrapped around your already flushed body. You probably liked these moments the most. The afterglow. In these moments you could wholly bask in your connection to Art without the thought of you two being just 'casual' dragging after.

It wasn't like you hadn't known what you were getting into. Casual hook-ups and maybe the odd date here and there with a super hot tennis player from your art history course (you made the pun as soon as he introduced himself. He was nice enough to give you a fake laugh.) sounded like a great deal. And it sounded like one of those college-y things your roommate had urged you to do.

You just really hadn't been prepared for how easy it would be to fall in love with him.

Suddenly the warmth that his soft yet firm body was radiating against yours– that was so pleasing a moment ago– felt like an unbearable sauna. You gently untangled yourself from his embrace. He let out a small hum but let you go. Everything still felt warm.

Like routine by this point, you walk over to his dresser, not even bothering to pick up your sweaty discarded clothes from earlier decided on stealing a shirt and boxers from him like always.

You pulled open the drawer and felt your breath catch at what stared back at you. There was a small corner packed with clothes that werent there before.

Your clothes. Which wasnt surprising since you often just forgot your stuff after a late night. But what was surprising is that Art had made a small space for you in his drawer which was now occupied by your originally left behind but now freshly washed and folded shirts, underwear, some pajama bottoms and your favorite lacy bra (which was coincidentally Art’s favorite too).

A familiar shiver swept over your skin causing goosebumps– which you would really like to attribute to your severe lack of clothing but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore than you already had. This relationship had exceeded far past casual. Unfortunately –unlike the other times you had realized this and then vehemently shook away the thought– you couldn't ignore it this time.

Because it was staring you right in the face in the form of your favorite bra hanging out of Art Donaldson's dresser.

You had to face it: you were basically his fucking girlfriend. You were in a relationship without the labels nor the commitment. That's great. That's what everyone wanted, right? All the emotional involvement, none of the promise of loyalty or reciprocated feelings and a 100% chance of getting your heart broken.

…But he had to feel it too, right? Guys don't make space in their dresser for a girl they have no feelings for, do they? So maybe… Maybe this could have a happy ending? Maybe this could serve as the catalyst for you both to be honest about your feelings and realize that you're basically already dating and just make it official. It's not like Art had commitment issues, necessarily. It was more the opposite. He was too committed. To Tashi.

Either way you really just needed to figure out where you fit into his life. Because right now you were squeezed in between his sock drawer and the place where he kept his old tennis rackets.

“Are you okay?” Art’s voice snapped you out of your stupor. You mumble something that sounds like, “Huh..what?” and look over your shoulder to see Art giving you a confused stare from his bed.

His blonde curls were still all messed up from you running your hands through and tugging at them earlier. He was bathed in the warm glow of his desk lamp, softening his already adoring features all the more.

His face was smushed against his pillow as he was laying on his side, and he was giving you his best puppy dog eyes. Although, to be fair, he kind of always had puppy dog eyes. The upper part of his well-defined chest was visible, his pale skin still tinted with redness from you running your hands and nails all over it.

The sight made your heart stutter even though you saw him in a much more promiscuous position a mere half an hour ago.

He looked too good to be true. Sometimes he reminded you of those statues that had lipstick marks all over their marble lips because they were sculpted in such an enchantingly beautiful way that people couldn't help but kiss them. The name Art made a lot of sense, you thought.

Wow. You were whipped to an almost embarrassing level.

That thought made you feel like someone had poured a glass of ice water down your back, “Um..” You tried to regain your focus. “I hadn't noticed that you…kept a space in your dresser for me.” Your gaze swept back over to the drawer.

Mainly because you were sure that if you looked at Art any longer, your feelings would become irrevocable.

”Oh, yeah.” he said it so nonchalantly, in complete contrast to how you were feeling right now. He sat up with his blanket pooling over his thighs, exposing his Adonis belt and blond happy trail that led down to- You quickly flit your eyes back to the dresser in front of you.

Jesus Christ, get a grip, you mentally scolded yourself. There was a short silence that fell over the room. His gaze was still on you, trying to gauge what you were trying to communicate to him. He leaned back against the headboard and without him even realizing, he began running the pads of his fingers over his lips like he always did when he got nervous or felt awkward.

“Well.. I just thought since you stay over sometimes.. You know.” he explained, clearing his throat a little. You dug out your panties and one of your (used to be Art’s) Stanford shirts. If you were going to confront this, you definitely couldn't do it naked.

You didn't miss how Art's gaze never left you once while you were pulling on the soft cotton shirt and panties.

Once you were clothed again, you padded back over to his bed in silence. The mattress dipped as you let your weight fall onto the edge of it. You started shuffling your feet against the carpeted floor, trying to release some of the nerves washing through your body.

You could feel his bed squeak a little as he leaned forward towards you, letting his arms rest on his knees. The intensity of his attentive stare on you didn't exactly help the nauseating swirl of anxiety stirring in your stomach. You chewed on your bottom lip while scrunching up your nose, thinking on how to best approach this.

Tugging and pulling at the carefully crafted bracelet on your wrist, you started, “So..isn't it a little..much to keep space in a drawer for someone you're just hooking up with?”

You immediately worried your wording was making you come across too harsh so you almost stumbled over your words trying to follow up with, “Not that- I just mean…Um..I don't know like..what the..code?..on that is..” Yeah, nailed it. Real smooth.

Vaguely you could see Art’s face scrunch up in confusion from your peripheral, but you were too mortified by your clunky approach to face him fully. He began fidgeting, flicking his thumb under his ring finger. “..Um,” a nervous chuckle followed, “What–uh, what do you mean?”

You began pinching and pulling at the hem of your (his) shirt. “I just…” you sighed and it almost sounded annoyed– maybe the repressed anger at his refusal to acknowledge your deepening relationship was finally bubbling up–

“Isn't that something a guy would do like..for his girlfriend?” You turned your head to the side, finally facing him. He began staring at his bedsheets as if they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, fingers still fidgeting.

“I dont know..” he mumbled, “Not necessarily. It's just more convenient, right?” he added with a small shrug. You could hear the uncertainty wavering in his voice.

The sight of him all nervous and sitting curled up in on himself like a hedgehog trying to protect its soft underbelly almost made you regret saying anything at all. Seeing Art in any unease at all always sent a small pang through your chest. He just looked so…almost pitiful. You weren't going to back down, though.

“Art.” you tried your hardest to make your voice sound firm and stable. “Mh,” He raised his head finally meeting your gaze. His blond curls fell just slightly above his eye– he needed a haircut again soon.

Without really thinking about it, almost like it was an instinct, you had reached out and carefully brushed some of them out of his line of sight. It felt so intimate that it made you want to hurl so you quickly retracted your hand like his forehead had burned you.

You laid your hands down in your lap and stared at them.

“I think..things between us are..more than just a casual fling now. At least to me.” You really had tried to sound confident in your words but instead you almost whispered them. Like it was a secret you were ashamed to admit.

The few seconds between you speaking and Art responding felt like torture. You just kept staring at your hands, swallowing down the growing lump in your throat. The sound of him shifting on the bed felt almost deafening to you in the silence.

“I…” He awkwardly cleared his throat again, “I think I...like what we have right now.” That wasn't the response you expected. Or wanted. Was it even really a response? A metallic taste flooded your mouth. That's when you realized you'd been mindlessly chewing your bottom lip and were apparently too lost in thought to realize you had dug your teeth in far too deep. You didn't care about that right now. Your head felt like it was buzzing, completely overwhelmed with different thoughts and reactions to Art's response and what you should do next. “Okay.” is all you could manage. “Yeah, okay.” you exhaled softly, shifting your gaze back to him and nodding slightly. He nodded back, his expression indiscernible.

Despite what you said, you still let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms. And despite what he said, he still pressed a tender kiss to your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

[go-go-gadget-autism]

I just know that husband!simon would be a fucking suburban dad. tumblr hear my pleas

would absolutely wear khaki cargo shorts

crocs/sandals with socks. would also get little skull croc thingies i forgot the name

skull themed hawaiian shirts, leaves them unbuttoned around the house

dad bod, esp after he doesn’t work in the military anymore (he’s secretly embarrassed by it) <3

would probably invite the 141 to watch football

would also probably do that thing where he gets mad at a play and stands up and angrily paces, before sitting back down

grill. grill. grill. has a pink “kiss the cook” apron that you got him as a gag gift. he wears it any time he cooks

johnny tries to take this literally, and ends up walking away with a spatula mark on his face

price thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s every seen every time without fail. ghost can sense johnny approaching from inside the house

would stand around the hood of a car with some buddies, having a chat

“yep, she isn’t goin’ anywhere” after securing something to the back of his truck

would absolutely get one of those big trucks people hate on highways

would buy his kids fancy water guns and teach them to snipe the other kids from the roof of their house

also probably makes his kids mow the lawn lol

coolest dad on the block

would share stories from his time deployed to the kids if they asked (they always ask)

the kids all call him ‘mr. ghost’

would absolutely trash kids in FPS games, including his

gives them tips so they can get better

cries tears of joy when they beat him for the first time

just husband!simon things

[makeyoumine69]

Pink

Pairing: Patrick Bateman x psychiatrist!fem!OC (April my beloved!) CW: Daddy kink, dirty talk, possessive Patrick, pet names, clothing kink, sensual foreplay and maybe something else. A/N: Hello my dears, I know this is not what most of you are waiting for but I just wanted to drop this concept of Patrick losing his mind over April (my personal OC for drafting and practicing lol) when she dressed herself in a very cute but sexy outfit, hehe. Also, sorry again for using x reader tag.

Stepping into the privacy of their apartment, Patrick turned to April, his voice low and grim. "You know the rules. There are consequences for putting yourself in danger. This… will not happen again."

April knew what his words meant, so he just gave a quick nod and disappeared behind the doors of the fancy bedroom. While Bateman called his best friend from work—named Timothy Bryce—the woman changed into a cute pink lingerie, then she put on her white knee socks and after that she added a pair of cute fluffy ears on top of her head. The last detail was a pink choker with a bell that Patrick loved and before she knew it she was sitting on the bed waiting for him.

When the door to the bedroom swung open, April almost jumped, feeling nervous and a little scared. "I thought you forgot about me," she giggled embarrassed, looking away from her husband in shame. "I dressed up the way you like it most…I hope you like it…Daddy."

April blushed and crumpled the white sheets, her heart beating so fast she was about to suffocate, she couldn't even look at Patrick whose soft footsteps echoed off the walls, making her even more worried as she felt herself locked in a cage with a beast.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice smooth yet threaded with an underlying danger. "So eager to please, aren't you?"

Patrick walked closer, his steps measured and deliberate, adding to the tension in the room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled her into his lap, one hand immediately finding its way to the bell on her choker, tugging gently so that it rang softly.

"Did you think dressing up like that would get you out of consequences?" he asked, his tone deceptively light as his fingers traced the edge of her lingerie. "You're very… persuasive, I'll give you that."

April's breath caught, her eyes darting nervously between his eyes and his lips. "I-I just wanted to make you happy," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn't want to disappoint you."

Bateman tilted her chin up with a firm hand, forcing her to meet his gaze fully. His eyes bored into hers with a fierce, dominating intensity. "Oh, you will not disappoint me," he promised, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "But you must understand something, sweetheart." Releasing her chin, his hand moved to caress her cheek in an almost tender way. "Tonight was unacceptable. You allowed a situation to get out of control and I will not tolerate that." Patrick's other hand slid down her back, caressing the soft curve just above her ass. "But you’re going to make up for it, aren’t you?" he murmured, leaning in to kiss her deeply, his lips capturing hers with a possessive force. The kiss was both punishment and reward, a tenderness with a cruel edge that reminded her who held the reins.

His tongue dominated hers effortlessly, exploring her mouth as if to stake his claim once again. Pulling back just enough to speak, his eyes locked with hers. "You are mine," he repeated, his voice dripping with both control and dark promise. "Everything about you is mine."

"Patrick…" The woman gasped, struggling to catch her breath.

Grabbing her hips, Patrick shifted April, forcing her to straddle his lap. The position gave him complete control while making her submit completely to his desires. "Now," he said softly, his hands cupping her ass possessively, "I want you to prove to me that you really do understand what a bad girl you have been..."

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[holyschnitzel]

What are some of the best ways to tease the boys??💗 (trying to write a one shot)

not sure if you're still writing your OS (I apologize for replying so late), but here's your answer:

you can tease them about anything, there are no specifics ^^

but I can give you an example or two in case you're struggling with it.

❤️ tease Damon about his photography hobby/ collection:

You find Damon's latest collection of carefully composed photographs, and you can't help but raise an eyebrow. YOU: "Oh, Damon, your photography skills are truly unparalleled," you quip, your voice dripping with exaggerated admiration. "I mean, who knows that capturing a thousand shots of my coffee cup from every possible angle is so captivating?" 😄 Damon starts to look a bit uncomfortable for a moment. Damon: "Oh, you found that collection, uhm, I forgot to put it away… It's nothing special, really…" 💦 You pretend not to hear him and examine another photo with feigned seriousness. YOU: "And look at this masterpiece," you can barely contain your laughter, "the breathtaking beauty of my solitary sock abandoned on the floor! It truly captures the essence of… well, my laziness, I suppose." 😆 Damon's initial tension fades away, and he laughs along with you, realizing that you're finding more amusement in what you're seeing rather than being disturbed by it. Damon: "Yeah! I am the master of capturing the mundane. It's an art form, you know. Not everyone can see the beauty in everyday objects like I can~" ✨ YOU: "Oh, absolutely. You elevate the art of finding beauty in the banal to new heights. I'm sure the world is clamoring to see your collection of my toilet paper roll 🧻 close-ups any day now." He grins at you. Damon: "… Are you trying to give me new ideas?" YOU: "Why? Are you now going to reveal to me what a super weird boyfriend I have?" 🤨 Damon: "Hey, at least I wouldn't share it with the world!" You grab the nearest pillow and aim for his face. Laughing, he catches it before it could touch his nose.

***

another example would be teasing DG about being a sore loser when he plays video games with you (but you still have to be careful with him, don't exaggerate your teasing lol).

I hope this is what you meant by "teasing" and not what makes them mad or something xD

thank you for your question and I hope you will release your OS for everyone to read! 👀💕 have a good day/ night 😊

[sugar-omi]

Imagine mc giving birth to their baby. You know, Cove is probably panicking, Baxter pretending he's okay but at some point faints and our brave Derek letting mc crush his hand with theirs lol

And also I've seen a clip of a dude who just witnessed his wife deliver their baby and, with a face full of horror, he told her, "I am SO sorry, I won't do that again. " 🤣😭

I'm just imagining one of the boys saying something like that, in my head it's so funny

omg i almost missed this!!! im so glad you brought this up bc i love thinking abt how the boys are during delivery, especially cove omg (im sorry this is such a ramble... but also not sorry bc my brain worms are dancing in happiness at these thoughts)

cove:

even though you've had months to prepare for this and cliff n kyra has given cove lots of advice, paired with a lot of "don't freak out!" (sometimes followed by something freaky that happens during pregnancy or labor...)

he's prepared for this though. as prepared as an anxious first time dad can be. i mightta said this before, but whether you have him in the room the whole time or just to come cut the cord and hold the baby, is up to you.

if you have him in the room he'll let you hold his hand and he'll be holding yours back (he doesn't notice the pain of your grip for the longest...)

he definitely does what you mentioned and apologizes for putting you thru this LOL

after you give birth, he will do everything... he'll change diapers, put them down for naps, burp, wash, everything... because after that he needs to even the balance (if it was up to him, you'd never lift a finger after that, especially if you have multiple kids via birth)

HE'S ALSO OVERLY PREPARED

delivery bag? more like BAGS. mans has double of everything, he's PETRIFIED

also he runs to any place you want and buys you food while you're in labor if it's really long

and he stays with you up until its go time, then if you want him to wait outside he will

also he faints... or at least gets weak

if you have a c-section he's alrdy freaked out bc... omg they're taking a knife to you thats scary shit

but just natural birth? he's doubly freaked out because your body can do THAT??? you're literally pushing out a whole baby and he is awed but losing his shit honestly

would be babbling praises and encouragements (both for you and himself) n you can tell him to shut up its okay bc he's gonna laugh in the end anyway, but he'll probably end up going quiet bc he's trying not to be distracting and he probably saw something he wasn't prepared for 😬

probably starts crying the closer your baby gets to being out the womb, n after they're fully out and here he's bawling and just realized it but also he's trying to comfort n check on you first so you end up laughing bc he's fretting over you as if he isnt flooding the room

baxter:

mans is NOT CALM

tries to look calm, but he just looks constipated and he looks tired honestly

he's been losing sleep this whole pregnancy bc he's afraid of being a bad father, but he's so excited and ends up staying up at night talking to your belly so he just can't win

surprisingly dropped the collared shirts and slacks

mans is stuck in t-shirts and sweatpants or jeans

his hair is a mess too

omg he's napping when you go into labor

he jumps up, mismatched socks (either he's wearing an ankle cat print sock and a knee high sock, or he's wearing one sock. its bad n i think him wearing one sock is better (worse for him but hes fineeee))

the nurses love him bc he's running in and out bringing you food and runs back to get anything he or you forgot or might need

another over packer

honestly they're all over packers who are we kidding

this is where is wedding planner job comes in handy

has backups and plan b's for everything

and even though everything is right he brings extra just to feel better

won't be in the room if you want that ofc, but he psychs himself up to be in there

he's really scared n nervous, more-so than cove actually. but he wants to support you and if you want him in there, he's there. even if you reassure him he doesn't have to be there, he wants to be

he has to sit down while he's there, his leg is shaking and he's torn between watching whatevers going on over there and watching your face for any signs which.. doesnt really make sense since labor isnt like going to the waterpark but he has a kind heart <33

spends so much time looking at the baby... cove does too but baxter spends double that time

watches the nurses and doctors like a hawk whenever they mess w the baby

will curl up next to your bed and thanks you so much for giving him such a beautiful life, this is all stuff he never thought he'd have and he's so happy

derek:

he's actually the calmest one

he has 2 siblings and even though he was young when they were born, he has lots of experience with babies and he prepared

isn't that bad of an over packer actually, just extra baby stuff and some of the best snacks

but he'll still surprise you with your favorite food or takeout

he will do anything for you during labor, remind him to just sit down and hold your hand n stfu, thats what nurses n doctors are for n he really can't help much atp, its all up to you and the nurses+doc

holds your hand even though you might be hurting him. will just wince thru it or convince you to switch hands

will keep giving encouragement and either times it perfectly so he doesn't get on your nerves or you have to kindly ask him to shut up bc you're not playing ball, it isnt helping!!!!

also pulls a cove and does a lot of the work around the house and with the baby bc that was tough work, labor and carrying the baby? you deserve it!!!

ends up talking n holding the baby a lot, is probably a little scared since theyre so little and just holds their hand or looks at them

you sometimes wake up to him mumbling stuff to the baby, abt how happy he is, how he's going to take care of you both, how much he loves them...

carries everything outta the hospital by himself (by everything he means your hand and the baby, his family is probably dragging your stuff to the car bc they're here to help n make your life a million times easier and its literally a sleepover with nico around)

anyway. i need more dad!derek hc's now, specifically uncle nico and jorge, bc that is such a big brain thought

now this applies to all the boys honestly, i didnt even think abt it until now

but he helps you walk to the bathroom and put on all the pads n underwear n stuff if you need it

i remember seeing a youtube short where the woman said her fiance or husband helped her walk to the bathroom, spray her coochie w the water spray bottle, and with the underwear stuff

so don't worry about how you look or if it's icky because you're all sore and/or stitched up or anything like that because he's not paying attention, he just wants to help you in any way possible

[thecapricunt1616]

Chapter One The Bear & His Honey

Summary: Carmy + Winnie meet, He obviously tries to weasel his way into her heart by cooking for her.

A/N: Eeeep! I am sooo excited to be writing again, i've written fic's since like 2010 & stopped for quite a while, But Carmen has awoken the beast in me once more LOL !!! It's not without much thanks and love to @daysofyellowroses - Her encouragement & excitement for my ideas has inspired me in the most beautiful way. Give her a follow please! Her fic's genuinely are sososooooooo good that they made me want to start writing myself again, The theme and overall organization of her works is immaculate, I admire her works so much! I highly encourage any Carmy lover to take a look!! She is also such a doll!! And so so sooo sweet!!!

Anyhow, I love longer fics - this chapter is nearing 6k words & it initially started as a one shot, so reader be warned I am very wordy!

Warnings; Cursing, ehh I think thats it? Oh! Smoking Cigarettes & The green stuff, but thats all! *We will be getting VERY spicy, angsty, and sickeningly fluffy in this story - if that isn't your cup, ask me anything if you like my style! I am only writing for Carm at this second, but I will be writing ACOTAR & likely other things as I wet my pallate - it's been years for me, but if you have an idea that you want to throw my way, or just wanna talk (even if you just need someone!) I'm here for you peeps! Without further ado- let the show begin.

(Comments + Reblogs + Kind critiques are not only appreciated, but heavily encouraged!)

𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!

-------------------------------------------------------------------

One

I took a deep breath, the dry, late winter air sticking my nostrils together momentarily- fuck. I hate this god-damned weather. I shuffle across the street, my boots mushing through the late-winter Chicago slush. I slosh into the alley, my boots squelching with every step. I trudge across the street, nearly gagging at every soggy step, feeling my socks ever so slowly become wet. 

I sludge my way finally to the (god-blessed, shoveled) alley across the way, that connected The Next Page to the street in front of it, and hear a muttered “fuck” & my eyes lift from the locked spot on my salty, wet boots. They meet the side-profile of an undeniably handsome curly dirty blonde male, my eyes rolling, as he pats his pockets down. I assume he forgot his light. 

As I approached him, I piped up. “Missin’ somethin’?” I flick my pink lighter to life with my thumb, My eyes meeting his large blue ones. He leans forward, gently lighting his cigarette between my thumb and the flame. “Thanks” he muttered, sucking on the cigarette between his lips, his eyes locked on me. 

“Y’ smoke?” he questioned. I shook my head gently, “Not cigarettes, but I’m bout’ to eat, s’why not?” I slipped the small tin from my pocket, pulling a shorty from the box. I put it between my lips, leaning in close, touching the joint tip to the burning end of his cigarette gently, and took a slow drag once it was fully lit.

“Work here?” I motion at the building next to us with my chin, smoke spilling from my lips as I speak. His white t-shirt made me guess he could be a line cook or a bus boy at the restaurant that had been crowding the block the past few months. He nodded, a large puff of smoke leaving his lips, the edges of his lips upturning a bit into a smile. 

“Mhmm, own it.” he said casually, taking another drag, my eyebrows raising. “Hmm,” I hummed, smoke puffing from my nose obviously in the winter air. “Wow, from the shirt- thought you’re a busboy, quite the humble owner mm’?” I teased, a smile dancing on my lips as I pulled another puff of my joint. “Yea- guess so” he teased, shrugging lightly. 

“My boss comes by once in a blue moon, so either you’re a grade-A asshole, or have crippling OCD and you think your business is gonna fail.” I teased, blowing smoke past his left as I leaned against the brick wall. He chuckled, “Alright, well- Sugar says I’m OCD whatever the fuck that means, so you got me” he shrugged. I laughed. “I can so see it, what’s your name?” I asked. 

His eyes flutter to my lips, before meeting my eyes again. “Carmen.” He replied, putting his cigarette back to his lips and taking a deep drag. “Winnie..” I replied nibbling the inside of my lip gently. Carmen. Carmen. Carmen. The word echoed in my mind like an invocation. “Winnie” he repeated, smoke spilling from his lips in tendrils.

“Full name?” He questioned. A heat rose to my cheeks and I rolled my eyes, gaze flicking to my sneakers as I took another drag of my joint. “Winnow. Shut up, if you laugh, I’ll cut off your dick. My parents were never married, not sure what they were thinking.” I mutter, the tips of my ears heating in embarrassment. “Mmm” he hummed.

I look back up at him, “No slick comments?” I asked, genuinely surprised. He shrugged. “Winnow is pretty, people make fun of that?” He questioned, dropping the mostly burnt cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his chef's clog. My cheeks felt like they were on fire. “A dude named Carmen, not used t’ people pokin’ at your name?” my glance meets his.

His arms were now crossed over his chest, his delicious biceps becoming more prominent. “Go by Carm, mostly” he shrugged. Carm. “Hmm.” I hummed. “Carm. Suits you.” I said, my eyes grazing over the tattoos adorning his arms. “Yeah?” his tongue grazed his lips, a smirk pulling at the corners. 

“Mhhmm” I reach out, my finger brushing over the ‘773’ on his arm. “From ‘round here huh?” I questioned, my eyes meeting his blue ones once more. “Ye’, east side” he said, to which I nodded. “Sorry, don’t know too much, from New York.” I said, my arms crossing over my own chest. 

“Yeah? Where about? Did culinary school out there.” he replied. “Rochester” I nod, my accent coming out slightly. “Ah, alright. Like yourself a garbage plate?” he teased. I laughed, a real laugh, something few and far between these days. “Wow, so you really went to school out there eh’? I do actually, know how that came to?” I asked my fingers finding a loose string on my jacket to fiddle with.

“Not at all, thought it was a myth- you really eat that shit out there?” he joked. I giggled. “Don’t make me hit you, Yes! We do, so story goes, frat guys stumble all drunk in to Nick Tahoes, and they tell the line cook to give ‘em the plate with ‘all the garbage’ on it. And so, since it was closing time, they took all the carby leftovers they were gonna throw out, and threw em on a plate- the guys loved it” he grimaced playfully “eugh! Guys never heard of a burger?” 

 I laughed again “there is a burger, Carm! mmm,” I hum my eyes closing and head falling back at the memory of such a comfort meal. “oh my god, mac salad, cold! Has to be cold, Carm, then you do baked beans,” I paused at his brows furrowing “Don’t look at me like that, asshole” I shove his shoulder playfully, earning a chuckle. 

“No- nope keep on explaining your… catastrophe” he teased, I gasped, feigning a shot to the heart. “Wow, Carmy, you know how to flatter a girl huh? Insulting the indigenous dish of her homeland?!” I joked, causing him to really laugh. A beautiful sound I wanted to hear more often. “Ok, ok, so then you add the homefries, then - the house chilli, ohhh my god!” I groaned my head falling back “Soo, so good, then, you add on a burger patty, or a hotdog, or both if you feel frisky” he laughed again, his eyes crinkling adorably.

“How often do you feel frisky mm? Or are you a more tame girl?” he teased. I smacked the side of his jaw gently with a large bashful smile adorning my lips, “Carmen! You do not ask a lady how often she gets frisky!” I giggled, poking his muscular chest gently. “Ok, ok, keep going- or is that the end of the abomination?” he questioned and I dug my knuckle into his chest playfully.

“Nope!! Then you add chopped onions, ketchup, and mustard!!” I grinned and he grimaced jokingly. “Holy Jesus, your breath could knock out an army after that I’d bet” he teased earning another true laugh from me. “I swear, you own his place? If you thought you were busy before- add a garbage plate to the menu, and you’ll be rich, Carmen” I adjusted the Saint Anthony chain around his neck gently, so the pendant was facing front. 

His cheeks got a bit flushed. “Well, i’m makin’ a new dessert menu, if you wanted to come in and check it out, How bout’ I make you a garbage plate, well, the Carmen-Garbage plate, we don’t do chilli here, but I think you’ll like what I pull together” he offered. 

I took another drag of my joint, contemplating. “Alright. Shops been slow today so, Mel won’t notice if I sneak an extra few minutes in” i put out the nub on the wall, before dropping it and crushing it under the toe of my boot. 

“C’mon” he nods, pulling open the large metal door that leads into the kitchen.

Read Chapter 2 Here!

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

omg i love crochet!reader making spence a sweater, but i do feel like spencer would be very very adamant that it only happen after they get married cuz he believes in the sweater curse.

with his mismatched socks he seems superstitious, and basically the sweater curse is you cant make a sweater for your partner if you are unmarried cuz it like "unravels" the relationship lol

he would be so superstitious and I love it because it's so unexpected since he's so logical.

Okay but what if Crocheter!Reader knows this superstition that Spencer has and wants to encourage him to propose.

Like the conversation would happen something like this I think.

Spencer carefully inspects the intricately crocheted sweater in his hands. The dark brown and sage green colors crocheted in an argyle pattern are perfectly designed for him. He feels his heart pang at the gesture, feeling like he's finally important enough to someone to warrant such a wonderfully thoughtful gift.

"I love it, baby." Spencer says, gently folding the sweater vest in his lap. "It's so beautiful. You're so talented. But," he says, knowing to trend lightly as to not hurt her feelings.

"But, what, Spence?" She asks, "Is it not the right size? I made sure to swipe that purple one for size reference. It fits you perfectly."

"No, no, it's not that. It's just the curse. You know. The one about giving your partner crocheted or knitted gifts. It's supposed to unravel the relationship." He explains, his cheeks blushing as he speaks.

"Oh right, I forgot," Y/N says, clearly feigning forgetfulness.

"I wouldn't want to take any chances with our relationship. It's not that I'm superstitious, it's just I'm....careful." Spencer explains again. "Even though it's the most beautiful sweater ever."

Y/N takes in Spencer's words with a bemused expression. She smirks, knowing what she's about to say will either send him into cardiac arrest or escalate things quicker than they'd imagine it would go.

"Well if you don't want to wear the sweater because we aren't married, maybe you should do something about that then, Spence."

“Well maybe I will,” Spencer retorts, a similarly dorky smirk plastered to his face. He leans over and kisses Y/N on her cheek, “But it really is a beautiful sweater, Mrs. Reid.”

[eviebyme]

*****i forgot to ask what for the GOT7 one. lol

https://at.tumblr.com/eviebyme/hi-i-wanted-to-ask-if-you-can-do-a-headcanon/9frby751u7c1

If you can please do the same for GOT7?

Hi! Yes, I can certainly do that 😉. Thanks for requesting!❤️

Got7 Kinks

Mark

He’s probably the most vanilla tbh

Being with a partner he finds sexy is usually enough for him

He prefers to stick with missionary or doggy

His kink would most probably be penetration, just the act of sex is enough and he doesn’t really like to step out of his comfort zone

He will silently judge you if you suggest anything too crazy by his standards

Jaebeom

I can see him having specific sensitive spots that will drive him crazy when they’re touched

Like he’s big into having his nipples played with or being pinched on his thighs or waist or something

To that point he probably has a specific body fetish. Foot fetish, breast, belly button. I can see him being hyperfixated (and turned on) by certain body parts

Likes having sex in public, but with no one around lol - like in a field or in a car. He finds it exciting but anything more and his anxiety takes over

Jackson

Ok guys, he’s a lowkey freak

Takes consent very VERY seriously because he knows he’ll mess you up lol

Hard dom- likes giving orders, inflicting pain, and teasing

Like leather and bondage

ALWAYS has a safe word, even if your intention is just making out

Jinyoung

Soft dom - he likes to give orders but is a huge softy and feels bad when he gets carried away

LOVES roleplaying - he’s always the dominant though. Like he really gets into it. He’s usually pretty reserved but once he’s into a role he completely changes into that character

Likes to blindfold and tie up his partner - but he only reaches this stage after being with someone for a while

Seems vanilla the first few times, but he is freaky trust me

Youngjae

Edging and being teased

Probably a switch or exclusively submissive

I can see him being turned on by certain articles of clothing - like knee high socks and a short skirt or lingerie. That will drive him wild. Even certain textures like silk or lace are incredibly sexy

Also, I can see getting turned on by cosplay of anime or video game characters - omg and maids!

Bambam

Soft dom #2

More of a Daddy/baby girl kind of dom

Loves to take care of you and loves to put you in your place

Giving massages (erotic massages ofc)

Probably the second most vanilla after Mark. He likes good old fashioned sex and literally just loves to be touched.

Yugyeom

Rough sex

Role play that results in rough sex (punishing, humiliating, etc)

I’m reluctant to say hard dom because he can come out of this role quickly - and he is not really a soft dom.

He will be very clear about consent and safe words too. His partner is always a priority, but sex is a way to release anger, so he usually wants to be totally clear

Loves anal but will never suggest it to his partner

Requests Open!

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi there! Figured I should wait until feedback is open to ask this—I’m trying to design a character for one of my settings, and I have absolutely no idea what hair to give him. He’s a lore mage, which essentially means he’s a magic librarian. I’m trying to figure out a longer hairstyle to give him, and I want him to have elegant, preppy academic vibes. I am aware this doesn’t narrow down my options a lot… which is precisely the problem. There’s a lot of different hairstyles that I like a lot! So I’m asking for some suggestions, if that’s alright? Totally chill if this isn’t the kinds of asks you go for when it comes to feedback, I’m sure I can figure something out eventually. Thank you in advance! I hope this isn’t a weird ask lol

You honestly reminded me I created an entire system for this, and then forgot all about it. 🤣😅 I need to be better, thank you for your patience. Imma just open feedback up in general, I can't remember these things. You will be the first to get the official tag!

Anyway! Yes, that doesn't narrow down much lol. Any style, when kept neat, could work. I'm personally a fan of mid sized locs blunt cut to the shoulder, if you want the "sharp" look. But he's also magical- he could have some fantastical, multicolored hairstyles too! Maybe give him long locs but have him usually wear them in a large, self color changing loc sock. Or the locs themselves could be color changing, in a long French braid. So he could wear a very elegant pantsuit or whatever outfit you deem elegant and preppy, plus that. I think it's how someone carries certain fits that really makes them work. But yeah lol just pick something you like and make it work with the rest of their outfit.

[hellfiremunsonn]

maybe something soft like eddie comforting you after a difficult day? lol

YESSSSSSS ugh, I need this, you need this, we ALL need this.

soft, fluffy, flirty, baby boy <3

You got home about an hour ago, laying face down on your bed, work clothes still on, even your shoes. The day felt too long, and it really started to get under your skin, and it made you want to scratch it off.

After a few more minutes, you heard the front door of your apartment open, keys jingling, and the sound of quiet humming. "You home baby?" Eddie called out.

You and Eddie had finally gotten an apartment together. The two of you had been dating for a few years, and had been saving up for what seemed like forever to be able to finally move out, and get a place together.

you groaned in response to Eddie and you heard him shuffle into your bedroom, feeling the bed dip next to you. "Baby?" he said softly.

You rolled your head to the side, barely able to see him through your hair that now covered your face.

"Hi" you said quietly.

His hand came up to your back, rubbing up and down the lengths of it while he talked. "Bad day?"

You groaned again, shoving your face back into your mattress in protest of even acknowledging the day one more time. Eddie laughed at your small tantrum, continuing to rub his hand on your back.

"Need some help?" He asked, hand reading the bottom of your shirt and sliding under it, the palm of his hand warming the expans of your back causing your to shiver.

"You don't have'ta" You mumbled, turning your head back to him.

He brushed your hair away from your face, tucking a few strands behind your ear, his hand lingering there. "No, that's true" he said with a small smile. "But I'd like to if that's alright with you?"

You couldn't help but smile at him. Tilting your head and pouting your lips at him until he got the hint to lean down and give you a kiss.

"Okay" you said, and he was quick on his feet. You sat up to follow his movements. Going back and forth from your shared dresser and closet, grabbing different articles of clothing before coming back to you, kneeling in front of you.

"Oh Eddie I don't-" you started but he shushed you.

"Relax, I'm just untying your shoes" he said with a teasing tone and you blushed.

His fingers quick with the laces, slipping off your shoes and your socks before standing.

"Arms up" he instructed and you did as you were told, laughing when he forgot to unbutton the top button of your work shirt, causing your head to get slightly stuck in the neck hole.

"You trying to decapitate me munson?" You huffed once you were finally free from the fabric.

"Not today" he quipped. "Maybe tomorrow though, I'll have to check my schedule" He reached behind you, placing the smallest kiss to the tip of your nose while he unclipped your bra, pulling the straps off of your shoulders and flinging it across the room.

You sighed with the relief of your boobs finally being free, scratching at the intents in your skin from it.

"Lay back for me will ya?" He asked, pushing at your shoulder lightly until you giggled and laid back down. The sheets cold and refreshing under your back.

His hands fumbled slightly with the button of your jeans, popping them open with a "Ah-ha!" before pulling the zipper down, and grabbing at the sides of them by your hips, yanking harshly at the fabric until it slipped passed your butt.

Your laugh was infectious and Eddie couldn't help but join in as he pulled on each pant leg until you were left clutching your stomach now only in a pair of underwear. Grabbing at your ankles he pulled you to the end of the bed until he could pick you up, and throw you over his shoulder.

You squealed and kicked your legs. "Eddie!"

"Yes?" He said nonchalantly, which only made you laugh more. He placed you down gently on the cold tile in the bathroom floor, pushing your disheveled hair away from your face, holding it in his hands while he dotted kisses all over it.

"Bath or shower?" he broke his kisses to ask.

"Bath please" You said with a blush.

"Perfect, I'm going to wash your hair, and then you're going to curl up on the couch while I make dinner, and then I'm going to cuddle this shit out of you until you fall asleep, sound good?"

"Sounds perfect teddy, thank you"

"Anything for you my love, I'd do this everyday if you asked me to" He said leaning down to place a soft and loving kiss onto your lips.

[katsidoe]

Some fnaf human design doodles i did over a course of probably a few months because i don’t finish my drawings.

Sorry if you follow because of my ULTRAKILL fanart, I’m a FNAF fan at heart ans have been since 2014 (TヮT)

I HAVE A FEW NOTES ABOUT THESE DESIGNS!!! (Under cut)

Mangle:

I wanted to keep the pirate motif he would have has before being torn apart by toddlers.

Wanted her design to be messy which is why there’s stitches and patches in the clothes. I also wanted to lean into something a bit androgynous, don’t know if I achieved it?

She uses prosthetic limbs in my design. (I’m surprised I don’t see human Mangle designs with them) Specifically a prosthetic leg and a hook prosthetic, I thought the hook would tie into the original pirate theme while also mimicinh an aspect of the Mangle design (same with the eyepatch).

The sock puppet mimics the extra head he has. It’s also a little broken.

Fuckass haircut (that speaks for itself lol).

Classic Chica:

Originally I based her design off of old waitress uniforms but I changed that so it wouldn’t overtake the fact she’s a (backup) singer for the band.

The apron is supposed to have little pizza-shaped patches sewn onto it - this didn’t work too well because I didn’t want to well because I didn’t want to make the sketch too messy, so instead it’s just two triangles lol. (There were supposed to be more party themed objects but again, didn’t want too much mess)

The puffy skirt is supposed to mimic the shape of a chick. (I saw another design do it and thought it was cute, so I took it.)

The stripped (would be orange) socks are also supposed to represent her chicken legs from her animatronic design.( I also saw another artist do this and thought it was cute so I did it as well).

Toy Chica:

This piece is actually from a few months ago.

She has a mask, it’s my way of keeping the fact she can remove her beak but in a way that’s possible for people to do. My reason for her wearing the mask is that she has braces under there and doesn’t want people to think she looks dorky.

The outfit itself is based off of jazzercise attire. I thought it would fit her and when I looked into jazzercise I read that it was popular in the 80s!

The roller skates aren’t there for a specific reason, I just thought they’d fit her when I drew this.

Puppet:

Their outfit is pretty much just copied off a clown outfit I saw off of Pinterest. I just added stripes and more buttons to mine.

I was going to give them a black bob but decided against that to copy the ref image more. I thought it would also work a bit better to have their hair under something rather than it sticking out.

The face is a mask, I forgot to add the red cheeks on the face (╥_╥)

Toy Bonnie:

Not much to say I don’t think (lol).

I wanted to base his design off the outfit I made based off him in Royale High. In that I went for something glamorous since TB’s whole thing (at least in AR) is being a star.

I hope I made him twinky enough lol. I don’t draw guys too often so I’m not too confident in my ability to so so

[uglypastels]

Ok ok gotta quickly talk about my fav bits from these 2 episodes

SPOILERS

LOOK, I DIDN'T WANT TO BE A HALFBLOOOOOD

Percy and Grover giving each other the ham/cheese from their sandwiches

The mrs Dodds gaslighting. Idk why i needed this to be included (more on this later)

Gabe. Why was Gabe so fucking funny in this 😭😭 like man is just a loser.

"Do you know why we come to this cabin every year" "because its next to the septic tanks' so its cheap" stop he's so unserious 😭

"Please" and the entirety of Sally talking to Gabe

I'm sure it will all get so much worse, but just the quips that were written and the pacing through the conversation of all 3 of them was really well written

Percy thinking that Sally was an atheist until she saw Jesus in her living room. (To paraphrase it)

"The important thing is not to panic" while being on the verge of a breakdown

"YOU DIDNT TELL HIM ABOUT X"

Sally making Grover swear to protect perce😭😭

YOU DROOL IN YOUR SLEEP

Basically, any time there was book accurate dialogue. It healed parts of me that I didn't even know were broken.

Mr D. I'm obsessed. The whole interaction between him and Percy. And then Mr D and Chiron 💖💖💖 (the poker later on. I love it)

The cabins and entire vibe of the camp. It feels so real i wanna go there so bad.

I could basically just list every single scene of this episode.

Luke 💖 that's it.

Mr D and Chiron forbidding Grover to tell Percy about his mom. So we got the Gaslight, now we jave Gatekeep. Where's the girlboss? Literally every other second.

Annabeth!! Annabeth's hat!! The hattttttt

"I'm fine thanks, but i appreciate you, you know, standing there silently" he's so fucking funny and it makes me want to scream. It's no original experience to have loved these books since the age of 12, but it doesnt make it any less personal. I love percy ok. And anyway not annabeth then still just standing there like 😐🤨

"When it's time, he'll be ready. I know it".... bro 😭😭

Clarisse's feral behaviour. I love her (i'll be dropping the L-bomb more and more as the show will go on. Let me be)

The bathroom scene. Obviously (i didnt even mention the episode titles yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

🔥? "I wouldn't"

Aaand cut to percy nearly setting the heph cabin on fire

"Is there a god of disppointment" "oizyz, but sje's a goddess, and her thing isnt really disappointment. It's more like failure" pls who is this kid. Fav character lol (idk maybe i should know who he is and im just stupid)

And then the look Luke gives him i'm crying

Oh my god how did not mention the blue food yet 😭😭😭😭🩵🩵🩵🩵

Percy PRAYING to Sally. And then "i'm Sally Jackson's son" aaaaaaaaaaaaah

Also, idk why but i loved Clarisse's reaction to when her spear broke. It felt so raw and it showed a glimpse of the side of her that she's clearly hiding from the world (not me already getting hyped for sea of monsters lmao)

Theres probably so much more i could add, or perhaps i should have just dropped a link to the episodes as it was all just so perfect.

Ohh oh oh i almost forgot the camp beads!!! Eeeek. So cute.

(Would have loved to have seen the grannies knitting socks of death, and the strawberry fields 🫢 but minor details)

[yipyipmf]

i wrote this not too long ago and kinda forgot ab it after sending it to a friend LOL. daddy issues are on high

tw: smut, p in v, some harshness, price being the father😉 figure we all need (lmk if i forgot anything)

price x reader (dunno a title)

—————

the day only started 4 hours ago, and i’m already ready to light the whole base on fire.

i woke up with a pounding headache, couldn’t find any matching socks, and everyone had already used all of the hot water. morning training went by slow as shit, and ghost barking orders wasn’t helping the still-existing headache.

although the lunches are never appealing, i was looking forward to it all day. we were finally able to set up an actual kitchen on base, and soap promised he’d make his “very genuine scottish soup”. (whatever that means). my mediocre (sorry soap) lunch was cut very short when price walked in.

john price; captain of taskforce 141, the most experienced of us all, as well as the oldest. at 37 years old, he is a little over a decade older than me, but still kicks ass better than some of these teenage recruits we gained this year.

he’s also my boyfriend.

nobody knows, but i’m sure they all have their suspicions. his nicknames, our not-so-sly longing stares; not to mention how often he calls me into his office for “help with emails”. today was no different.

“sergeant y/l/n, i hate to cut your lunch short. but laswell just found some information about makarov and we need your help decrypting some of the wording.”

he spoke, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed along his broad chest.

i sigh, not knowing if he truly needs help at the mention of laswell, or if i’m going to have to tell him about my day. i give soap a small ‘thank you’ and put my dishes in the sink on my way out. once out of eye line, price lays a gentle hand on the small of my back,

“your headache okay?”

i shoot him a confused stare, “how’d you know about my headache?”

“simon told me you had taken about 4 tylenols before stretching. i know you all too well little girl.”

i blush at the nickname. whenever we first got together, i wasn’t really sure of johns intentions. however, i slowly learned to realize that he’s not some creepo who wants a younger girl; he truly just wants me.

i smile at the thought as we step into his office, and smile a hair more after realizing his laswell story was total shit. i move a couple of files off his desk and sit on top, swinging my legs as i turn my attention back to him, confusion taking over as i take in his stance; stoic, serious, stern.

“simon also told me that you had been a little snappy with some recruits this morning”, he says, taking a step towards me, “the hell makes you think you can start barking orders around, sergeant?”

my jaw drops at the rank calling, “i wasn’t barking orders! they were just going too slow. they needed to move the hell along.”

he cocks a brow, “oh? so are we just feeling bratty today?” he smirks as he finally settled his body between my thighs, hands on either side of my body, caging me in.

i gulp, “no. i wasn’t bratty. i was just..” i pause, “helping them.”

“helping them? huh.” he tsks, shaking his head, “i’m still calling it bratty. but i think i know what’ll fix all that.”

“and what’s that, captain?” i ponder, throwing his rank around like he did mine.

“get on your knees and you’ll find out.”

my body gets hot, my cheeks flush, but i keep my head up high, “no.”

“no?”

“no.” i shrug, sighing and rolling my head to the side, “don’t feel like it.”

john cocks another brow before i feel a harsh tug to my hair, gasping as my head is yanked back and his face appears above mine.

“you’re gonna fucking feel like it, brat. get. on. your. knees.”

i suck in a breath as he yanks my head back forward and pulls my body down to the floor in front of him. he unbuckles just belt and doesn’t bother taking any clothes off; just pulls his cock through his boxers and zipper hole. i don’t move, just stare. i know it’ll rile him up more.

he lets out a low groan before grabbing his hard on and slaps it against my cheek. he continues to do so around my face, getting angrier and angrier with each one.

“princess you better open your mouth right now or so help me god, i will fuck you until you can’t walk anymore.”

i smirk, “i like a challenge.”

before he can say anything else, i cave in and open my mouth, instantly gagging as he slams in. he keeps a rough pace as he sets a fast pace, gripping onto my hair to keep me steady, spit going all over his pelvic area and my cheeks. he’s groaning above me, keeping eye contact while mine roll to the back of my head.

“yeah? a challenge huh? god you can’t shut up sometimes. maybe i should get a ball gag just so you can’t fucking talk.”

i moan around his cock at his words, feeling him shudder. he gives a few more harsh thrusts before he slams back into my throat, holding steady and groaning quietly as i feel his cum shooting down. he slowly pulls out, and i make sure he sees me swallow.

“good girl. see what you get when you listen?” i nod, trying to catch my breath.

“good. lean on the desk, ass facing me.”

i stand back up, choosing to ignore the pain in my knees and follow his orders. i settle my hips against the edge of his desk, hold onto the other side, and spread my legs. i’m still in my PT gear, which means easy access to him. i gasp as he pulls my shorts and underwear down in one pull, the cold air of his office rushing quickly to my soaked cunt.

he chucked at my reaction, slowly working a finger along my folds and to my clit, giving it small slow rubs.

“are you going to listen? quit barking around orders and being a brat?”

i stay silent.

“i said,” he leans in close, instantly sliding 2 fingers into my hole. i moan out, “are you going to quit being a brat?”

“yes, fuck john yes, please.” i whimper as he speeds up his fingers. he keeps up with this for a short few seconds before taking them out. i start to whine before feeling the tip

of his cock right against my hole.

“that’s what i like to hear sweetheart.” he gives me to time to respond before slamming in, much like he did my throat only a few moments ago. i bite my lip as he sets a rough and fast pace, his hands on my hips to keep me grounded. i move to cross my arms, laying my head down and moaning out.

after a moment, his fingers land back on my clit, rubbing fast circles in time with his thrusts. i bite my arm to keep my noises down, feeling the tight coil in my stomach beginning to unravel. i feel a hand weave through the hair at the nape of my neck, whimpering as my head is yanked up once again.

“j-john, please, fuck. please im gonna come. please please please.” i beg, trying to keep my voice down as to not alert anybody in the hallway. not that it matters anyways, john is slamming in so hard i swear i hear his desk moving against the floor.

“you promise me you’re gonna quit? gonna let us higher ranks handle the recruits, huh? gonna be a good girl for me princess?”

“yes! john yes! please!”

he lets go of my head and it falls back to my arms, “come.”

that’s all i needed before i was biting my arm again, finally letting the coil in my stomach burst. i can feel myself squeezing his cock, but i don’t care. he keeps his pace as i’m coming down, soon feeling his second load shoot into me.

we both take a moment to catch our breathes before he pulls out, helping me settle into his chair. i don’t speak as i watch him grab a water bottle from his cabinet, handing it over; i gulp down half the bottle.

“i’m sorry if i was too rough on you.” he mumbles, taking the bottle back and putting the cap back on before setting it on his desk. i smile as he hands me my clothes, zipping and buckling up his down.

“you weren’t, i promise. i’m sorry about everything this morning, just been a bad day.“

he lifts me from his chair, settling me back into his lap and grabbing a piece of hair to twirl around, “it’s okay love. just tell someone next time, okay?”

i nod my head and smile.

—dinner—

i give john a small smile as i sit next to him in the kitchen, thanking him for making me a grilled cheese instead of soaps ‘other genuine scottish recipe.‘

we all laugh and joke for a while before i catch ghost handing gaz a $20 bill across the table.

“wait, i was right? I WAS RIGHT?” he exclaimed, slowly turning to john and i. we shoot each other a confused glance, before realizing what had just happened.

“YOU ALL MADE A BET?”

lord. these boys are going to be the death of me.

[galewindstudios]

3 Idiots and a Cadillac (and 2 Visitors)

~

Official Fullbody Refs + Height Chart Completed!! :D

[Design Blabbing Below; Beware, it gets long haha]

Amp, 38 Years Old, 6'8 (203.20cm)

I finally got the stylisation of his face down! I feel his old ref was sort of a weird outlier style-wise. Changed his upper piercings from industrials to just rectangular ones. Either works but the only other oc in this world with silver piercings is Tiff. Theirs are rectangles and I really wanted to make everyone feel like they all fit in the same world, per se. I'll still probably draw him with indstrials occasionally though :) I may or may not have... tailored his jeans a little. Phff nah, couldn't be me. 👁️👁️ Hopefully his sass has stayed relatively the same haha. I also finally draew the tuft of hair under his chest hair and made his nails/belt/lipstick/eyebags the same colour!

~

Geoff, 34 Years Old, 6'4 (193.04cm)

Geoff!! I think my fat anatomy really improved. I thickened up his legs and ankles some. Also I made his skin a smidge darker because I forgot my sun-deprived skin colour was not a good representation of a mixed-skin tone. His hair is less of a gradient now and more texture-d from one colour to the other. Also finally making the red rims of his eyes official. Also!! Also!! I snazzed out his cargo shorts! More pockets!! And a weird...lanyard...suspender thingy & black earrings as an homage to Geoff's 80's punk-ass(grunge? I... I am regrettably out of touch with fashion.). His left arm is also badly burned due to his habit of letting it rest on the open window in the sun when he drives around. Too bad it's also the arm JWD loves hugging. Lastly, I made his nails this dark colour with a pink shine to it! Just really adding a lot of pink lol

~

Jackwagon Daniels, 5'7 (170.18cm)

It's corpse man! I definitely leaned into his dead...ness more. I made him more skinny, like his skin is pulling at his muscles and bones, and added some wrinkles too! Also added some drippy-corpse-liquefying details like on his foot. And I made his tan more like a sight burn (owuch). His hair is slowly gets bigger with every redesign... and I'm here for it lmao. Also! Detail! I added! JWD's fingernails, at the base, are blue/purplish! It's due to his death and I did battle wanting to make his lips-area blue too... but ultimately decided his smile is super big so it would only add unneeded noise. His jeans are more worn at the knees from his car repairing gigs back in Louisiana. And lastly, and it's strange I've written so much for him when hardly anything was changed lol, his eye dots! They're now sort of green-ish at the bottoms!

~

Tiffany, 29 Years Old, 5'6 (167.64cm)

Them!!! I had a lot of fun adding more accessories/colours! I added nail polish that reflects their treasured umbrella on both their fingers and toes. Also changed out their boring exercise shorts for ~Swim Trunks~!!! I think the pattern would change depending on how they feel. I also added a much needed tan and sun freckles as well! I kept their hair style the same but added darker roots. They've stayed pretty true to their original design, tbh.

~

Larch, 28 Years Old, 5'5 (165.1cm)

Lastly the elusive boy who only shows up when I draw Amp! There aren't many posted comparisons of him, but just know he probably went through the most change. I fixed up his anatomy; both with how the fat on his body rests/keeping him round, and making him look short. I have a weird issue with giving short fat people I draw skinny legs, which makes zero sense now that I know what I'm doing. (Also.... stretch marks...on his flanks... my beloved.) I've yet to """""officially""""" make a map for his vitiligo and mostly just care that it's in the right spots (shoulders/neck, right side of face around eye, tits and lower rib cage, wrists, inner fingers, and belly button area)! He used to wear shorts but I revoked them for sweats because he is a fashion disaster. Socks and sandals are also his forte, and I love him for that. He drinks a lot of beer (Amp's way of trying to comfort him) so I added that and a cig as well. He sort of just idles around wherever Amp is, frowning at the ground; poor guy. He also has mirrored tunnels in his ears, and his hair got darkened and less blond! Suffice to say, I am very happy with his redesign! He feels a lot more 'him' if that makes sense!

~ Anyway! Thanks for reading if you got this far, I really appreciate the interest, if any. Here's a gold star and also a little treat as well;

*🌟🍬*

Have a lovely day, and thanks for listening to me ramble about my boys! 😌😌