#i pressed a button (so watch what i can do)

[thinkinonsense]

Rotten

dofp!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: boot riding, dom!logan, spitting, slight hair pulling, bratty!reader

a/n: something short for now but the semester is over after next week so all december expect more frequent posts from me. gonna focus on the bewitched and sweet temptations mini series plus the new one im working on with worst!logan x camgirl/of fem!reader :)

"i only got a few more papers to grade, princess."

one of the greatest lies ever told, you think to yourself as you sit on logan's lap while he grades essays. two hours turn into four and before you know it, half the night is gone already.

"c'mon baby..." you whine, kissing his neck and leaving little marks, then watching them disappear. "the rest can wait until tomorrow."

deep down logan almost feels bad but he can feel you softly rubbing your pretty blue lace panties on his thigh.

"told ya' only got a couple left to grade then im yours." he says, paying little attention to you as possible.

a sigh of annoyance escapes your lips. slowly you rock yourself back and forth to gain some sort of pleasure from him.

"quit it, sweetheart." logan says sternly, smacking your ass rather roughly.

"fine." you huff, rolling your eyes over his shoulder.

a beat passes before you slowly kiss your way down his body, leaving a glossy trail down his abdomen and v-line until you're settled on the ground in between his thighs under the desk.

logan tries his best to ignore you. he really does but god, it's so hard when you are resting your head on his lap, inches from his bulge.

"what are ya' doing down there?" he asks, raising an eyebrow down at you. sweet doe eyed angel, peering up at him as if it were nothing.

"just resting here until you're ready." you said, biting back the smirk daring to appear.

he's not sure why he trusted you to keep your word. especially when he's spoiled you rotten over the years, always giving into your needs.

steadily, you wrap yourself around his left leg and take a seat on the front of his leather boot. cheek pressed against the inside of his thigh as you resume your grinding from moments ago.

"fuck lo..." you moan, sinking your nails into the material of his jeans; grabbing fist fulls near his calf.

a small puddle of slick leaks from your panties onto the leather, making it easier to move. quickly, you remove the lace and sit your bare core on his boot. a loud moan spills from your lips at the feel of cool leather on your clit.

"f-feels so, ahh!"

logan watches your head tip back, too fucked out to be care about how much of a mess you were making on his shoe. the essays were long forgotten by now, instead he is busy watching you attempt to get off.

"tell me how it feels, princess." logan says, big rough hand gripping your jaw. his hazel eyes were now unrecognizable, dark and blown out with lust for you. "that bratty cunt of yours is just weeping for me, huh?"

"yes, lo! it's s-so fucking good." you struggle to keep eye contact with him, which only spurs him on further into this game. "need you to fuck me, lo. please, wanna ride you."

logan tsks, shaking his head and leaning in to rest his arms on his thighs. inches away from your pretty face.

"rotten girls don't get to ride."

without warning, logan begins to tap his foot up and now. the front rubbing your button just right. soft bounces and lewd noises flood logan's bedroom.

under his cold looking exterior, logan was struggling inside the dark denim covering his large bulge. truth be told, he was enjoying this almost as much as you were. the sight of your slightly parted lips and scrunched eyebrows were prettier than any painting he had ever seen.

"such a messy pussy." he mocks, moving his foot faster, allowing for more of your pretty moans to escape you. "gonna tarnish the leather, sweetheart."

"uh... uh fuck..." you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut. " 'm s-so close!"

logan's lucky that you aren't the one with claws, considering how deep you are digging your nails into his legs while humping his boot pathetically chasing your high.

without warning, he taps your cheek signaling you to open your mouth. half expecting him to place the pad of his thumb on your tongue but pleasantly surprised by the string of spit connecting the two of you.

the kiss is almost as messy as the scene below you. all teeth and tongue. oxytocin fills the room as you reach your high, moaning in logan's mouth and gushing all over his poor boot.

when the two of you finally pull apart, logan can't help but take in the image in front of him of you clinging to his leg with a hazy stare, and glossy kiss bitten lips.

"finally gonna fuck me?" you giggle as he pulls you back into his lap.

"maybe." he hums, rubbing his hand up and down you back. "seems like someone is pretty spoiled though."

in a split second, logan's got a fist full of your hair wrapped around his rough palm, tipping your head to the side so he can leave marks on your neck.

"it's not my fault, lo." you pout, slipping your fingers under his shirt.

"i know, baby. i know." he chuckles to himself before lifting you over to the mattress and laying you flat on your stomach with your ass in the air, waiting for him.

it's going to be a long night.

[mattslolita]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆

"but professor, i've never gotten anything lower than an A+ before!"

professor sturniolo sighs softly, rubbing the stubble along his jaw as he eyes you, licking his lips. you bite your lip in nervousness, feeling the familiar feeling of heat pooling in between your thighs whenever you were around your teacher. his intense, azure eyes that would wander hungrily over your gaze didn't ever escape you ━ you couldn't deny the obvious attraction you had towards him, either. you knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help it, especially when you were his favorite student.

but after seeing the B+ on your most recent paper, your mind was spiraling and you had started to think otherwise. "i'm so confused on what i did wrong, mr. sturniolo."

"listen, y/n, your work was done well, but it was lacking," professor sturniolo explains to you, shaking his head slightly as his eyes bore into yours, "this wasn't your best work, you and i both know that. you could've done better."

a huff escapes the pout of your lips, your arms crossing against your chest. professor sturniolo's eyes wander down to where your perky, perfect breast are almost peaking out from above the white button up top you've paired with your denim skirt, just barely grazing the curves of your ass. a low rumble leaves his lips, and he clears his throat to cover it up, eyes raking over you shamelessly.

and you don't miss the way he stares.

he raises an eyebrow as you walk closer to his desk, stopping just in front of his desk where he sits in his chair. he leans back with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, manspreading as he watches the way you stare down at him pleadingly whilst pressing your plush thighs together.

"is there anything i could do..." you whine lowly, your eyes traveling down to the bulge in his work slacks, "to raise my grade?"

he chuckles lowly, his eyes darkening with a sinister gleam in his eyes. professor sturniolo tsks, shaking his head slightly before beckoning you over to him.

"get on your knees angel, hm?" he instructs you, and you nod eagerly.

you tucked your skirt under you, knees pressing against the carpeted floor of the classroom as you slowly crawl in front of him, wide eyes staring up at him as you await his next command. he feels his cock twitch in his pants upon seeing you on your knees for him, face level with his still clothed erection.

"such a sweet girl..." he hums lowly, reaching his hand out to stroke your cheek, thumb swiping over you bottom lip, "willin' to break the rules jus' to raise your grade? such a naughty little thing, ain't ya?"

you whine lowly, feeling the heat pool your underwear upon hearing the way he described your current predicament ━ it was so wrong, but you couldn't help the way your body reacted to the simplicity of his hand grazing along your cheek.

"please sir, need you," you plead, wide eyes filled with lust and pleading as you stare up at him.

"go on angel, have me."

professor sturniolo lifted his hips up as he unbuttoned his slacks, sliding them down towards you ━ you eagerly slid them past his knees, gulping slightly when you saw his erection prodding against his underwear, begging to be released. he lifts his hips up once more to slide his underwear down and once they unclothe his cock, your eyes widen ━ he's big. his angry, mushroom tip is reddened with precum leaking from it. his eyes narrow at you predatorily, watching the way you take him in.

"s-so big, sir," you say, mouth watering as you look back up at him, "please, can i taste you?"

"course you can, baby," he urges, caressing your cheek, "know you can take all of me, c'mon."

you scoot closer to him until you're eye level with his dick, slowly moving forward as you lick a stripe up the underside of it ━ a low groan leaves your professor's lip, clearly having been waiting for some type of contact. you reach a hand up to slowly stroke him, watching as his eyelids become lidded as he hungrily gazes down at you.

"y'gonna tease your professor, hm?" he warns you, "gonna have to make me feel good if you wan' that A+."

without warning, you take the head of his throbbing cock until it hits the back of your throat, earning a low growl from your professor, his head lolled back in ecstasy. you raise your head up, before going back to take him again. "fuckk, there ya go, angel..."

you stroked the rest of what couldn't fit in your mouth, watching his expressions morph as you continued sucking him off. professor sturniolo's hand goes down to create a makeshift ponytail, gripping your hair harshly as he forces your head all the way down, your nose brushing against his pelvic bone as he fucks your face with vigor.

"takin' me so fuckin' good, doll," professor sturniolo says darkly, his hips snapping up as he drives his cock down your throat, "breakin' the rules jus'- fuckk- cause ya didn't like ya grade? gonna make you take me, you dirty slut..."

his filthy words have you moaning around his cock, and your hand goes down and slips inside of your underwear, rubbing circles around your clit. professor sturniolo's cock begins twitching inside of your mouth, signaling he was close.

"m'close, angel," he growls, his thrusts into your mouth growing sloppy, the wet, lewd noises sounding throughout the classroom. spit trickles down the sides of your mouth, and you could feel your throat becoming hoarse but you didn't care. you can feel yourself closer and closer to your own orgasm, your slick coating your fingers as you rub your clit faster.

"gonna fill that pretty mouth up with my cum," professor sturniolo groans possessively, "is that what you wan'? want your teacher to fill your dirty mouth up with his seed?"

the moan you suddenly let out around his cock gives him his answer as he looks down at you, tears filling your vision from you gagging around him ━ the tears spur him on further, hips bucking into your face roughly before his legs sputter, cock twitching as hot, white spurts of cum shoot down your throat, followed by multiple praises of your name slipping from professor sturniolo's lips.

he coaxes himself through his orgasm, guiding your mouth away from his dick, a loud pop sound following. a low whine leaves your lips as you come undone on your fingers, your arousal dripping down your thighs as you pant heavily.

professor sturniolo smirks down at you dangerously, drinking in the sight of your puffy lips, mascara streaking your eyelids as your eyes are glossed over, the scent of sex clouding around you both. his hand reaches out to yours, pulling it up towards you. he hums as he tastes your arousal on your fingers, lustful gaze on you as he licks his lips. "y'taste so fuckin' heavenly."

a small giggle leaves your lips as you stare up at him. "does that mean i get an A+ now?"

[mini-ism]

thinking about lighter and his awfully cheesy romance movie fixation…

⭑ drabble; only slightly steamy (mentions of sex and porn), but he really likes romance movies tee hee… lighter is THE hopeless romantic. he’s got it worse than miss caesar king. maybe it’s contagious?

⭑ lighter lorenz x gn!reader, (mostly???) SFW.

it’s gotten quite late, but he can’t force himself to turn off the TV yet. it’s been hours, sitting in the same position on the couch, absolutely immersed in romance films. rom-coms, dramatic romances, forbidden loves, dying together… it’s all so alluring to watch. he can’t help but put himself in the leading character’s place, finding every chance they can get to impress or even capture their love interest.

of course, you whined with every embarrassing scene, covering your eyes when the leading actors kissed or did something “stupid.” you took every chance you could to dash away, maybe grab snacks or a comforter. but he never got up, not unless he needed to. lighter was utterly dazed, totally awestruck with each plot point, every twist, the passionate confessions, and even rejections — or worse. it made his heart race, the fantasy of being confessed to, or confessing his undying, torrid love to an interest. maybe that interest was laying in his lap now, sound asleep.

he forced his gaze down towards his lap, your face smooshed into his thigh as you laid there. if only you knew how cute you looked. you’d stir a few times, lighter’s hand instinctively coming to stroke your cheek or your upper arm, chastely caressing the skin with gentle movements. if you made a soft noise, lighter would give you a soft hush, smiling as you snored and sighed.

this movie, though, had really caught his attention. sure, it was under the romance genre, duh. he had made sure to keep enough movies playing for maybe an entire 24 hours. but, holy hell, his hands were trembling and sweaty…

the two lovers were entangled in a passionate embrace, their lips and bodies melding together. the room filled with the sounds of their love, but lighter couldn’t find it in him to take his eyes off the screen. his cheeks were stained a hue of red, eyes wide in shock. you rustled around a few more times under the thin blanket, “shh, shh, shh…”

with a quick hushing, lighter’s attention regrouped, the scene growing more steamy with each passing second. this was borderline porn, maybe with an artistic twist. he couldn’t deny he was excited, but it had him thinking, wondering if he could experience this type of love himself.

“are you watching porn?” a groggy voice spoke, you were sitting upright. oh shit, oh fuck.

“uh, no…” lighter froze, panicked, his face turned towards you as the scene played out. where was the remote? why couldn’t he grab it?! “it’s the movie, i’m not watching porn. i don’t do that. that’s weird, totally weird, i don’t look at porn. i swear.”

lighter was mortified, face tinted a deep crimson. you really couldn’t be bothered to nag him for watching porn, if he was. he quickly reached for the remote, pausing the movie. “see? it’s the movie, i’m not weird.” lighter’s voice was heavy with anxiety, though his tirade about how he ‘swears-he-is-not-a-pervert-who-looks-at-naked-people’ didn’t quite convince you. if he looked at naked people on the interknot or in magazines, that was his business.

“i think you already said that. i believe you.” your voice was raspy with sleep, vision still fuzzy as the movie was paused on a shot of the female love interest straddling the male protagonist, bust just out of frame. lighter’s breathing was heavy and frantic, though your lack of fussing and mockery calmed his nerves. before you settled in his lap again, you pressed the play button for him, the lewd encounter fading into obscurity as you drifted off once more.

what if he could put himself in those encounters with you? not just… this one, but all sorts of predicaments. he could buy you a bouquet, take you out somewhere, run along the beach with you with the hem of his pants rolled up as the sun sets. he could freely laugh, take all that weight and guilt off his chest as he holds you close.

his hand drifted down, thumb rubbing gentle circles on your arm again, the gesture bringing more comfort to him than you. would you fall for a sappy guy like him? he wouldn’t even have to be given the chance to fall for you a thousand more times.

he just can’t seem to understand why people hate romance movies, can he?

[amorchai]

𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃.

pairing(s): eddie munson x reader

words: 651

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, shy!reader.

a/n: this is a repost from my old blog.

“here’s a crazy thought,” spoke eddie into the quiet candle-lit bedroom. you had took a week to talk yourself into the courage of asking eddie to come over for a movie night – the dull sky now filling the room in darkness apart from the chunky tv emitting the low light of ‘the breakfast club’. the room had mainly seen you and your ecstatic state, usually finding pride in the small room to squeal when eddie called you attractive or when he kissed your cheek one random day.

now, a few dates into your complicated unofficial too-scared-to-ask relationship with eddie “the freak” munson – who you just found insanely attractive and inventively sweet – you were hiding your embarrassed and overly infatuated state from under his arm.

it had been quiet most of the night, eddie holding you while the movie played on – you just thought eddie was really into the plot, despite him resembling john bender. however, his thoughts cutting into the air has you sure he has been distracted quite like you.

“yeah?” you ask, whispered into the room so shy that if he wasn’t right beside you he wouldn’t have caught the small word. “what if i was your boyfriend?” asks eddie. you almost choke, breath lodged in your throat and head suddenly light as you’re completely sure the blood has drained from your brain and into your pumping heart. now, it rapidly beats beneath your shaking chest.

sure, you had been on a few dates, eddie admitting he was fond of you and wanted to see where it goes, but it still felt out the blue. you weren’t prepared for such a question, and you weren’t sure how to answer either.

“huh?” you stutter, blindsided when eddie leans over to your other side to grasp the remote and pause the movie, the array of differing teens running through the empty school halls and you wished you were them for a moment, your heart palpitating beneath you while eddie’s hand shakes your shoulder lightly.

“me. being your boyfriend. crazy right?” his voice is slightly teasing, as if treading the line to see how you respond. you can tell its him preparing for rejection – a soft question where if you agree the thought is crazy he can play it off and move on. but you didn’t want to, even through your shy nature.

eddie was patient in your response, watching as your mouth opens and shuts, eyes darting across the artificial screen as you debate in your own mind how to reply to his question. you decide to look up at him, his face centimetres from yours and his arm refuses to move from safely holding you to him. a net you never want to leave.

“uhm. n-not… so crazy, no.” eddie’s eyes widen at your sentence, perked eyebrows happily taking it in while he smiles with a wide but comforting grin. eyes gleaming while he replies, “no?”

all you can do is shake your head, words losing all meaning when he’s looking at you so fondly that he nods appreciatively before delivering his next breath-wavering question, one you never thought you’d personally hear, “can i be your boyfriend?”

you gulp, taken aback by the all-of-a-sudden change in the atmosphere, the thin line eddie’s created between you both – friends to more than friends. one you were terrified to cross but also yearning for so you nod, “uh-yeah, yes of course.”

eddie kisses your cheek, a little wet and sloppy due to the grin that doesn’t leave his face. “cutie,” is all he responds before turning back to the small television, pressing a button on the remote and suddenly the kids are all running again – through the halls and away from their teacher.

now you’re glad you’re here instead of there – tucked underneath your boyfriend’s arm and unable to pull your eyes away from him to even watch the rest of the movie.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[domoriu]

the morning after ꕤ s.jake

“eat your pussy just to show you how my tongue works” jake x f! reader smut 18+ mdni !! wc. 1.2k warnings: oral (f. receiving) riize version of this post on my other blog !!

to say jake was obsessed with you would be an understatement. he loved you so much he was sure other people would think it was unhealthy. he missed you even if you were right next to him. 

even right now, while he sat between your legs while he played video games and you played on your phone, he missed you so much. he sunk himself deeper into your thighs, letting himself melt into the feeling of your hand mindlessly twirling his hair as he played. you knew your boyfriend always needed to be as close to you as possible at all times, him constantly whining about not being close enough to you and wanting to live inside of your skin, so the position you two were in was nothing out of the ordinary.

it also wasn't out of the ordinary that jake would end up being turned on from this position, so when he paused his game to sit up and face you, his words weren’t a surprise to you.  

“can i eat you out?”

“jake, it's not even noon yet” you laugh, setting your phone down next to you on the bed so you can sit up to face him properly. 

“i just love your pussy so much baby, wanna eat you out all day every day” he moves so he can place a soft kiss right on your collarbone. 

and he wasn't exaggerating, if he could he definitely would devote his life to eating your pussy and making you cum on his tongue over and over. just last night he had you making a mess all over his face, and he still wasn't satisfied and needed to make you cum again. 

his lips trailed down your chest, making you hold your breath as he trailed his fingers up your thighs. you couldn’t deny the heat you were starting to feel the lower his lips went, and you were sure that you were already getting wet when he pulled away to guide you to lay down on the bed. 

jake was set on eating you out, but he felt conflicted about what he wanted to do when he saw the way your chest rose with every breath as well as your nipples poking through your tank top, or how the bottom of it rode up your stomach. he wishes he could have his mouth on all parts of you at the same time. 

“jake, do something already” you reach for his hand that rests on your leg and bring it to your panties, his fingertips now resting at the hem of them and you lift your hips just a bit so he can get the hint. 

his fingers move down to press against your clit through your underwear and you moan, lifting your hips again in response. jake smiles, pressing his finger harder against you to hear you moan again. 

“you’re already wet,” he stares at you in awe, just moments ago you were teasing him for being needy but you were in the same boat as him, wanting him all the time. jake continues to rub you through your panties, watching as the wetness starts to seep through the fabric the more he touches you. 

jake feels like he’s going to cum in his shorts just from watching you grow needier by the second from his touches, and his need to taste you gets worse with each scrunch in your face. not taking his fingers off you he leans down to leave a kiss by your belly button, then by the hem of your panties. he moves his fingers so he can move further down your body and lay on his stomach, lifting your legs and spreading them so they can rest on his shoulders. he licks his lips before kissing the inside of both of your thighs, sucking bruises into the skin occasionally as he got closer to where you needed him. 

“jake,” you bring a hand to his head and run your fingers through his hair softly, giving his head a slight push closer to you. 

the soft grip you had on his hair turned into a harsh tug as he pulled your panties to the side and placed a kiss on your slit. you moaned at the sensation, and he used his other hand to spread you open. he groaned at the sight of your pussy leaking arousal, he couldn’t get enough of you. 

you were a mess under his touch as he started making out with your pussy, licking and sucking on your clit before dragging his tongue back down to your hole, letting his nose rub against your clit as he lapped up your juices. 

“taste so good baby” jake groans into your cunt and the vibrations run through you, you whine and pull on his hair harder. with your other hand you bring it under your shirt, eagerly grabbing at your tits and tweaking your nipples to add onto the stimulation. when jake looked up he groaned again watching you touch yourself to help bring you to your peak faster. 

from the amount of orgasms you had the night before jake knew you’d still be a little sensitive, so when he felt that you were already shaking he knew you weren’t going to last much longer. 

“gonna cum, pretty?” all you can do is nod as you let out a strangled moan, jake sucking hard on your clit right before you can respond. he moves his hand so he can bring them to your hole, letting some of his spit drip from his mouth and onto his fingers before he pushes two of them into you. 

the feeling of his mouth on your clit and his long fingers filling you up, your orgasm was building up  fast. you push his face impossibly closer into your cunt, grinding your hips into his face as well to add stimulation. once jake curls up his fingers inside of you and with one more a harsh suck on your clit you’re cumming, back arching off the bed as your vision goes blank. 

jake was sure that you had ripped some of his hair out from the way you held onto it, but he didn’t mind when the cause was from him making you feel good. he would lose all of his hair if it meant he could eat you out every day. 

once you got your breathing back to normal you let go of his hair, body trembling as you tried to calm your nerves. 

“are you okay?” jake breathed as he came up from between your legs, the bottom half of his face glistening in your juices and it made your cheeks heat up. you hummed in response as you sat up as well, adjusting your underwear so they covered you back up. jake was still breathing hard, and when you looked down you could see how hard he was in his shorts. 

“are you?” you bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers before squeezing gently and smiling as you look him in the eye. 

“wanna make you cum again” he’s quiet almost like he’s embarrassed, and you have to pretend like you weren’t up for his horny shenanigans. you laugh and place a quick kiss to his lips. 

“im going to put you on a sex ban if you keep this up”

a/n: little surprise release before i post #that fic hehe 🤭 i was debating on reusing this for jake or heeseung cuz they just have to be the biggest munches in enha so i hope yall like this :3

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight Part 2: City of Love

Masterlist: Here

CW: Mentions of pregnancy, language, bit of light arguing, brief details of the hook up in the bathroom, miscommunication and a touch of panic attack symptoms mentioned.

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden

A/N: I know it’s not Thursday but I just wanted to get this up because this week is a busy one for me! Hope yall enjoy it!!✨

Summary: Harry gets the confirmation he needs but wasn’t really expecting while you try to be as nice as possible to him, oh and Harry meets your cat! So enjoy getting a little look at the way your personalities work/clash together✨

“So uh-you’re actually pregnant.” Harry says with a heavy sigh as he watches you dig around in your purse for your car keys. You pause your search so you can look up at him just in time to see him run a hand over his face. “I just really thought maybe your tests were wrong? Like maybe you got a bad batch or something and-”

“A bad batch? Harry I took four different kinds of tests.”

“Well yeah but still I just don’t know how this happened?”

“Did your parents not have the talk with you about how babies are made? Surely you know how this happened.” Harry ignores your snippy remark as you resume your search for your keys as he presses the down button for the elevator.

The two of you just got done visiting with your doctor who confirmed you are in fact pregnant and suggested a well known obstetrician and gynecologist, Dr. Andrews that could take over and do the paternity test once you call and set up an initial appointment with his office and see exactly how far along you are. You weren’t shocked by the news, but Harry on the other hand sat there with his mouth hung open as if he didn’t expect it at all and you aren’t sure why considering you told him how many tests you took and how they all said pregnant in different ways. You know he had to be reminded of how the two of you met, seeing as he meets so many people and all but you just assumed that once he had his moment of clarity and remembered meeting you that the memory of the rest of the evening would also begin to not be as fuzzy for him but he’s proving that theory very wrong with every confused glance and silly question he tosses your way.

“I thought we were careful?” He questions once the elevator doors open up allowing the two of you to step inside, you let out a chuckle as he moves to stand next to you crossing his arms over his chest while he shoots you a glare. “Are you giggling? What’s so funny about this?” You just shake your head as you finally feel your keys on the bottom of your purse.

“Oh you-you’re being serious?” You ask as you look over at him with a raised brow making him nod his head in response. “I wasn’t aware that the pull out method was really even considered a form of being careful?” Harry’s eyes go wide as his arms fall to his sides and that’s how you figure out he really is struggling to put the pieces together of what exactly happened in that bathroom so you decide to give him just one more detail to help him understand how the two of you really ended up in this situation.

“And by the way in order for that method to work you actually have to pull out.” You add casually as you reach over and press the button for the lobby while Harry’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he looks down at the floor in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

“So are you going to want to be at all the appointments?” You ask a few minutes later as the two of you enter the lobby of the medical building your doctor’s office is in. Harry looks around and brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck while you adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder as you wait for him to answer.

“I don’t know? I just-this is a lot.” He finally replies a few moments later making you purse your lips and slowly nod your head before you turn and head for the front entrance of the building. Harry doesn’t know what to do but he knows the two of you have things to discuss so he just quickly rushes to catch up to you and when he finds you heading for a small beat up looking car that’s parked in a very obvious no parking zone his eyebrows pinch together while his hand reaches out to grab your elbow causing you to stop walking and look at him over your shoulder.

“Look I’ll tell you how my next appointment goes and when they can do the paternity test-”

“Is this your car?” Harry asks interrupting your little rant, you watch his eyes go from your face to the car directly behind you.

“Yes. She’s very reliable even though she looks a bit rough.” You say in your car’s defense as you take a step away from him making his hand fall from its hold on your elbow as he stares at you in almost disbelief as you take your car key and unlock the passenger side door and toss your purse inside before closing it so you can turn and face Harry with your arms loosely crossed over your chest.

“This can’t be safe for you to be driving around in.” You roll your eyes at his statement as he takes a step to the side so he can give your car a proper once over and when he sees a dent on the front bumper he raises an eyebrow while pointing at it. “You run into things a lot?” He asks as he looks over at you from where he’s now stood near the front of your car.

“Leave Melanie alone okay she’s nice and gets me where I need to go.” You snap at him as you turn and place a hand on top of your car so you can give it a little pat. “I’ve had her since I was seventeen so yeah she’s got a few bumps-”

“Melanie? You named your car? Have you really had this thing since you were seventeen?”

“Yes Melanie just fits her and yeah Harry I’ve had this thing since I was seventeen because most people keep their cars for a while since we can’t all have a driver to take us places or have a fancy collection of cars we don’t use.” Harry doesn’t say anything in response so after a few moments of silence you take that as a sign the conversation is over so you just turn to round the front of the car and get into the driver’s seat.

“You’re in a no parking zone you know that right?” Harry says breaking the silence just as you open your door, you look at the sign that’s posted on the sidewalk right above where you’re parked and just shrug making Harry let out a huff as he rolls his eyes.

“I was in a hurry.”

“You mean you were running late?”

“No I mean I was in a hurry.”

“Are you late to a lot of things? Is that something I should get used to?”

“I don’t know Harry do you want to get used to me?”

“What? That’s not-not what I meant I just want to know if you’re late a lot?”

“I wasn’t late today was I?”

“No but clearly you were worried about it since you were rushing enough to just park in a no parking zone-what if your car would’ve gotten towed? What would you have done?” While he’s speaking you take the time to look him over and that’s when you notice it, his hands are clenching and unclenching fists by his sides and his cheeks are slightly flushed and his eyes are a bit wide, he looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack of some sort and him asking you these pointless questions is his attempt at holding it off.

You ignore his eyes that dart to various parts of your face and upper half of your body as if his mind can’t decide where it wants to focus as you close the driver’s side door with a bit of force making sure it stays closed and round the front of your car so you’re standing in front of him. You wonder for a moment as you stare at him if it’s your hormones already kicking in that makes you feel the need to make him feel better or if it’s just Harry who has this extremely annoying power to drive you to the brink of wanting to smack him a few time with your purse and leave him standing on the sidewalk alone and confused to all of a sudden switching it up to were you’re wanting to make sure he’s okay when he shows you any signs of distress. He watches your hands as they reach out and grab his and when you fill the gaps between his fingers with your own and give his hands a nice solid squeeze you watch his chest fall as he lets out a deep breath and his shoulders slump a bit. You look him in his eyes and give him a small smile while still giving his hands little reassuring squeezes.

“Would you like to come over? Have some tea?” Your question not only shocks Harry but you as well, not sure what came over you to even let the words slip out of your mouth, surely it’s just the hormones. Harry chews on his bottom lip for a moment before he looks down at his watch on his right wrist, checking the time before he looks back up at you.

“Uh sure yeah-yeah I can come over for a bit.” He answers with a nod. You just let go of his hands and reach over for the passenger side door handle so you can open it for him. Harry quickly looks at you with worried eyes and begins shaking his head and backing away from you while trying to reach into the front pocket of his jeans for his phone.

“Oh no I’ll just call my-”

“Harry.” You say with a sigh as you continue to hold the door open for him, he stops fumbling for his phone and stares at you making you roll your eyes as you gesture to the passenger seat with a tilt of your head.

“Just get in the car.” With that Harry just lets out a groan as he reluctantly takes a step towards the open door and bends down so he can pick up your purse off the seat. You bite back a laugh as you watch him have to duck down a bit to get into your car and he makes a show of buckling himself in nice and tightly once he’s sat in the seat. You give him a smile as he places your purse in his lap just as you close the door for him so you can go and get into the driver’s seat and take the two of you to your apartment.

“Do you have a cat?” You look at Harry over your shoulder from where you’re making yourself a cup of herbal tea in the kitchen and smile when you see him messing with a random stuffed mouse that somehow ended up on your table.

As if on queue Harry looks down as he feels something rub against his shin and you see a small smile tug at the corners of his lips when he sees your orange cat greeting him with a few purrs but it’s when you see him rub his head against Harry’s ankles that you feel obligated to warn him about something.

“Oh but watch out he might-” your words get cut off by a tiny squeal from Harry as he takes a step towards you with his eyes set in a glare aimed at the orange cat that’s decided to now head into the living room since Harry didn’t allow him to fully chomp down on his ankle like he wanted.

“He just bit me.” Harry states as he watches your cat jump onto your sofa and quickly flop down into a comfortable laying position. “He bit my ankle.” He explains while turning to now give you his full attention making you just shrug as you reach for the honey to add to your mug.

“Yeah well his name is Paris so he kinda has a thing for ankles.” Harry stares at the side of your face as you go about making your tea while explaining why your cat just bit his ankle and he rolls his eyes at how casual you are about it, but that’s something Harry is learning about you, you don’t seem to take a lot of things that seriously.

“What’s the city of love have to do with ankles?” He asks as you give the liquid in your mug a nice stir, he watches the way his question makes your brows pinch together and when you turn to look at him he sees your face looks almost concerned and he can’t imagine why considering the two of you are just talking about your cat.

“He’s named after Paris as in the one who killed Achilles.” When Harry just raises an eyebrow in response to your explanation you let out a long sigh as you pick up your mug. “Have you heard of Troy?”

“The Brad Pitt movie?” You have to fight off the urge to reach over and flick him in the ear at his answer but you just shake your head and walk past him and into your living room.

“No not the Brad Pitt movie I mean the actual story of Troy? With Achilles and Hector? The Trojan horse and all that?” Harry follows you into the living room and makes a mindful choice not to sit on the couch with the orange cat that just tried to make a meal out of his ankle, opting for the loveseat that’s placed across from the couch with a little coffee table in between the two pieces of furniture.

“Hector and the little horse thing are in the Brad Pitt movie though.” Harry explains as you get comfortable on the couch making Paris lift his head and look around to see who has come into the room and disturbed his peace.

“Little horse thing? Are you-you know what it’s not important.” You take a sip of your tea to help calm yourself down before placing it on the coffee table, Harry takes the opportunity to glance down and he quirks an eyebrow when he sees the name of the tea on the little tag hanging out of the mug.

“Paris shot Achilles in the ankle so that’s why I named him Paris…because he attacks the ankles of people he doesn’t like.” You smile as the orange cat stretches out next to you placing a paw on your thigh while Harry just lets out a scoff at the idea of your cat not liking him.

“You drink peppermint tea with honey? That’s criminal. And also there’s no way he doesn’t like me considering he just met me.” You laugh as you reach over and run your hand over Paris’s back making him purr while still keeping his eyes closed.

“Oh and it’s so hard to imagine someone not liking you after just meeting you?”

“Well yeah because he doesn’t know me so how can he not like me?”

“He knows enough to want to bite your ankle the first chance he got.”

“That’s because you’ve probably poisoned him against me.” You laugh and roll your eyes as Harry leans over and grabs your mug of tea off the table and brings it to his lips so he can taste it. “And that’s disgusting by the way.” He states with a face of disgust making you glare at him as you lean over and grab the mug from his hand before he can set it back down on the table.

“And I remember you being taller.” You mumble while Harry just glares at you from his spot on the loveseat. “What? You insulted my tea so I’m allowed to insult your-”

“I can’t really do anything about my height but you can and absolutely should fix the way you make tea because no one should be mixing honey with peppermint.” He argues as he watches you with a narrowed glare as you take a sip of your tea, you watch as he leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees and clasps his hands together.

“Is this how you always act when someone invites you into their home as a way of calming you down when you’re on the verge of a panic attack? You just insult them and-”

“I wasn’t having a panic attack.”

“You were maybe two minutes away from one and please stop interrupting me it’s so rude and isn’t your whole thing about treating people with-”

“How are you not panicking? You’re having a baby possibly my baby and you’re just sat there with your nasty tea and-”

“That’s it.” You say with a huff and Harry flinches slightly as you all but slam your mug down onto the table before standing up causing Paris to jolt awake at your sudden outburst. “You’ve insulted my car and my tea today and I was going to let it slide because that’s fine we can have differences in opinions on tea and cars but that’s on top of the fact you don’t even remember what happened between us that night and you think the story of Troy is just a Brad Pitt movie and I just-I think you should leave now.” Harry blinks up at you as your hands fall to your sides in what he almost thinks is a sign of defeat, as if you lost the internal battle you were having with yourself on trying to keep your cool with him and that makes his mouth droop a bit into a small frown.

“I remember plenty about what happened that night.” He counters as he slowly stands up while you grab your mug and turn towards the kitchen. Harry reaches for his phone in his front pocket so he can text his driver your address and a message to please come get him as soon as possible.

“If that were true then today wouldn’t have been such a shock for you.” You explain before you disappear from Harry’s sight, he can’t really put a finger on the exact feeling that comes over him as he stands there in your living room knowing that everything you said is true. He doesn’t remember exactly what went on between the two of you, at least not very clearly.

He knows that the two of you had an intimate moment in the bathroom because the evidence was shown to him this afternoon when the doctor handed him a piece of paper that told him you are truly pregnant and this is all really happening. Since then he hasn’t been able to think straight or focus on much of anything and if he’s being honest he really isn’t good in stressful situations in general, he tends to either overreact or just panic and this by far is one of the most stressful situations he’s ever found himself in and he knows he isn’t handling himself the way he should be. And your calm and relaxed demeanor just seems to make him even more unnerved because he doesn’t get how you’re not in the same panic riddled boat as him.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, giving a tug at his roots as he glances down to your couch, he catches Paris do a lengthy stretch before he sits up briefly just to look at Harry and decide that even he is fed up with him so he jumps off the couch and walks off into the kitchen. Now in that moment Harry knows he should do that as well, follow your cat’s lead and walk into your cramped kitchen so he can at least attempt to apologize for a few things but he doesn’t. Instead he just runs a knuckle under his nose as he sniffles a bit and when he feels his phone vibrate and sees a text letting him know his driver is on his way he lets out a heavy sigh. He takes one last look at your kitchen entryway, hoping that maybe you’ll come back and sit down on the couch and he thinks that he wouldn’t even mind if you didn’t say anything but just sat there not looking at him so that way he would at least be able to tell you goodbye and prove to you that he’s capable of being polite but the sound of the sink being turned on quickly wash away any traces of hope he might’ve had.

“This is so fucked.” He mumbles to himself as he walks towards your front door, he knows better than to leave the two of you like this, with certain things needing to be spoken and unkind words being the last ones said but he doesn’t have much of a choice since you won’t come out of the kitchen. So Harry opens your front door and walks out into the hallway making sure to close it as quietly as possible deciding that maybe this is for the best and at least he’s giving you exactly what you asked for, him leaving.

You watch the last bits of your tea go down the drain as the sound of your front door opening and then closing hits your ears, you take a few steps back from the sink so you can poke your head out into the living room and when you see it’s empty you just let out a sigh and go back to cleaning your mug. You didn’t want to end your afternoon like this, standing alone in your kitchen because your patience was worn too thin for the man who somehow managed to charm you into agreeing to a quickie in a bar bathroom over a month ago.

You almost don’t even know how that man and the one who was sat in your living room not even five minutes ago are the same person. The Harry you met at the bar was fun and flirty and even though he teased you throughout the night it was never with any real intention to hurt your feelings while this Harry can’t help but take every chance he can get to insult you or toss a jab your way about something. You don’t know why the corners of your mouth turn downwards at the idea of the night you two met never really meaning anything to him aside from being the night he got you pregnant. You don’t get to think about it for too much longer as Paris jumps onto the counter and makes his way over to sit next to the sink momentarily taking your mind off the curly haired boy.

“We can do this right? We’ll be fine won’t we?” You ask him while he sits there looking at you with his big green yellow-ish eyes that all of a sudden remind you a bit too much of the man who just left your apartment without even saying goodbye. “Next time bite him a bit harder okay?”

[shouyuus]

OH MY FUCKKK. college roomate!vi is fucking killing meeee. the last one made me literally squeal when i read about vi's vape 😩😩 i am a silly little smoker myself and i was wondering if you'd write something about vi introducing reader to smoking? like one night they're sitting and talking on the couch, maybe watching a movie or something and vi whips out her lost mary (i KNOW thats what she'd smoke) and reader asks kinda out of nowhere to have a hit, and vi laughs a little and then teaches her how to use it (it is an art form), and their faces keep getting closer and closer and they're basically kissing because they're hitting from the same vape, right? RAAAHHHHHH 😩

college roommate!vi cinematic universe not me having to google the brand but yES ur rite she woULD

+18, no sex but vape usage, mdni

"l-like that?"

"yeah, just like that -- breathe in -- hold it -- breathe out --"

you let out a soft groan, the "cherry peach lemonade" flavored smoke slipping from the corners of your lips in streams, vi's eyes flickering down and back up again, her own lips parted, her pupils dark.

"it's -- it's a good flavor," you say, blinking as you hand the vape back to vi, who grins and takes a long hit, leaning back slow, one hand on the vape, the other slung lazily across the sofa back, letting the smoke unfurl from her mouth. you watch, mesmerized as she rounds out her lips and blows out little smoke rings just to make you laugh.

"yeah, it's nice," vi says, her voice soft as she glances back at you, at the way your eyes have gone just a bit hazy. she leans forward, tugging your chin towards her with a thumb and forefinger, a mischievous grin sweeping across her face.

"open your mouth for me, pretty girl."

you do, letting your mouth fall slack as vi takes another long hit and blows the smoke into your mouth. like this, you can feel the cool of the smoke, the warmth of her breath, the strange duality sending tingles shooting down your back, a coil tightening in your gut as you breath in.

your lashes flutter as the high slips through your body, the weightlessness gathering in your loosening muscles.

"i-i've seen people do that before --" you say, grasping for something to fill the strange, ethereal silence, "at parties," you clarify, hoping for... you're not entirely sure what.

vi chuckles, "yeah? it's called shotgunning. it's... a bit gentler than just taking a hit straight from the vape so --"

she pulls you towards her again, this time, you lean in and your lips are so close you can feel the heat of her skin against yours.

you open your mouth without her prompting, and you don't miss the way her pupils dilate at the motion. and just for a second, you can taste your own heartbeat -- the sweet cherry peach lemonade tang of it at the back of your throat -- before vi's blowing another steady stream of smoke into you and you're breathing it in, tasting her -- wondering if her lips would be just as sweet without all the flavored smoke --

"there... think that's enough for you for tonight?" vi asks, pulling back with a grin.

you lick your lips, glancing at the tv screen.

"we've missed like... half the movie."

vi laughs, grabbing for the remote, "yeah well. we were busy. luckily, there's a rewind button."

you keep quiet as she rewinds through the parts of the movie the both of you missed, your mind a berry-tinted haze of half-formed thoughts. you inch closer to her, pressing your thigh to hers, letting your head drop onto her shoulder.

"thanks, vi," you say, your eyes cast towards the tv but not really seeing it at all.

she stills beneath your touch.

"what for, princess?"

you nuzzle your head deeper into her neck, "nothing just... glad you're here."

after a beat, vi curls an arm around your shoulder and gives you a squeeze.

"i'll always be here, princess. whenever you need me. and even if you don't. got it?"

you giggle, closing your eyes and letting the bright neons of the movie play out behind your eyelids like the passing of so many days and nights.

"i'll always need you, vi... even if you think i don't." and your voice is so, slow, honest. so honest that vi feels her chest squeeze. she settles for brushing her lips along the seam of your hair.

"then i guess we're stuck with each other for the long haul, aren't we princess?"

you let out a sleepy little laugh, nodding.

"yeah. guess we are."

[kumkaniudaku]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: Terry and Nyla work together to bring Patrice some Christmas cheer.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language

Previous: Back Up

Santa came down the chimney 

Half past three, y'all 

Left all them a good ol' present 

For my baby and for me, ha, ha, ha

Terry bopped his head along to Otis Redding’s classic playing from some soul Christmas station he found on Spotify as he examined his handiwork with a mouth full of baby fingers and no idea what he was doing. 

When he set off to decorate the house on Patrice’s behalf, he hadn’t considered all of the meticulous planning that went into her creating their personal Winter Wonderland. Ribbons needed careful tying to make beautiful bows. Garlands he thought could be tossed on any surface he chose required deliberate care to achieve their festive flare. And, to his surprise, Christmas trees out of the box did not come pre-fluffed.

He was so confident that he could start and finish his side project in his mother’s final hour of childcare that he didn’t change out of his office attire. The tightness of a half-buttoned polo and stiff slacks with a sleepy little girl cradled in the crook of his arm reminded him of just how wrong he was.

Clear bins labeled by function and location crowded their quaint living room with Patrice’s arrival coming quicker than he was prepared for. He squinted at the tree, trying to understand how he’d managed to put every single ornament on only the front while leaving the back side bare. The sensation of Nyla’s fingers tightening their grip on his bottom lip brought his attention from the eye sore he’d created to the four-month-old with her mother’s smile. He pretended to gnaw on her hands. 

“What you looking at, girl, hm? You watching Daddy tear up Mommy’s tree?”

Sleepy baby giggles lit up her round face and dark eyes as her pacifier bobbed in her mouth, thoroughly entertained by her father’s voice and smile. He leaned down to kiss her forehead before smoothing a hand over her soft hair. 

“Hopefully she likes it. Mama hasn’t been feeling like herself so we gotta bring the Christmas joy for her. What you think? Did I do a good job?” He adjusted Nyla in his arms to turn her toward the tree for her opinion. She squirmed in his grip, whining and fussing before releasing a small cry as the only way to communicate that she’d seen enough. He took the hint with a chuckle. “Oh-kay. You are Patrice’s child, I’ll tell you that.”

With Nyla providing lively company, Terry adjusted and re-adjusted earth-toned ornaments of all sizes in a failing attempt to salvage his surprise. She cooed along to Terry’s chatter about work, music, and life, offering commentary here and there like a child who’d been speaking for years.

He listened to her grunt and kick at the mention of watching football on Sunday and smiled. “Maybe me and you can go to a game together one day. Don’t get your hopes up for the Panthers being good though baby girl.”

Nyla laughed as if she understood Terry’s jokes, making him laugh in response. From the foyer, their back and forth sounded perfectly ridiculous to Patrice’s already scrambled mind. Motherhood had come with an unexpected price. Every day came with the overwhelming responsibility of balancing work and home life. Months away from her desk only to return during the end of semester swirl made reaclimating to eight hours away from home grueling. Her emotions were a jumbled mess that she traversed on a fraying tightrope. Exhaustion was her default setting these days. No matter how much her family assisted her, there were never enough hours in the day. 

A sigh of relief rushed between parted lips as she pressed her back against the front door to seal her home from the frigid early evening wind. A single minute of tranquility couldn’t erase the day she’d had, but it came close. The rest needed the help of her two favorite people in the world. 

The alarm’s chime stopped Nyla and Terry’s conversation, alerting them to their queen’s arrival. 

“Petey! You’re home,” Terry exclaimed from the living room. 

Patrice scoffed and rolled her eyes as she placed bags on the ground. “Don’t play with me, Terrence. I don’t wanna have to knock you out in front of your best friend.”

“I’m not worried about it. She got my back. Right, MiMi? You got Daddy’s back?” Patrice smiled at Nyla’s squeal in response, listening and watching it intensify as Terry appeared in the foyer. 

His standing there, tall and thick with a baby carefully balanced in his arms and an incredible softness in his eyes, instantly awakened senses that had long taken the day off. 

“How you doin’, beautiful?” 

“I was exhausted until I saw you. You married or just out here fine for no reason?”

He chuckled at her shameless flirting and flashed his ring. “Happily married. She a little off in the head too, so be careful.” 

“That was perfect. Make sure you say it just like that every time.” 

Terry closed the gap between them, pressing quick kisses to her forehead and lips as he helped her shrug out of her coat with his free hand. 

“Was your day okay,” he asked, a hand gripping her elbow to hold her steady while she kicked off her boots. She shrugged. 

“I didn’t feel like crying by the end so that’s a step up, right?”

“Sure, but I don’t want sad at all. Is there anything I can do?”

Patrice attempted to answer Terry’s concern with a weak smile. “No, but I appreciate you lookin’ out for me. I’ll get better. For now, let's talk about this smiling girl instead. Come here, my sunshine!” 

Nyla kicked her little feet and panted from excitement as she transitioned from one set of arms to the next. She worked overtime to ward off sleep for dueling kisses on both cheeks from doting parents elated to have their baby girl earth side. 

Terry pulled away from family time to collect the heap of bags left by the door. “What’s all this?” 

“Just me tryin’ to find some Christmas cheer. I figured we could bake some cookies with Ny before she goes to bed. Then we can have a drink, order in, and watch a movie or something? I don’t know. Tell me if that sounds stupid.” 

Uncertainty was thick in her delivery. She hadn’t been sure of anything in the past four months. Herself, her parenting skills, being a good wife, her teaching - nothing. The need for validation was growing more dire by the day. 

“We can do whatever you want, baby. I’ll dress up like Santa if you need me to.”

His affirmation came with a gentle kiss and a slight squeeze to her backside that made her giggle like a teenager in the presence of her crush. “Thank you, Pooh. You hear that, Naomi? Daddy’s gonna dress up like Santa and let Mommy sit on his lap.”

“That ain’t all Mommy can sit on but we have to wait until you’re asleep for that part.” His joke came with a suggestive eyebrow raise that incited a hearty guffaw and butterflies in Patrice’s belly. She leaned in to rest her forehead on his chest for as much touch as she could handle. He rested his chin atop her head to speak. “There’s a surprise for you in the living room if you’re up for it.”  

“Does this surprise have something to do with my baby being drenched in all this glitter?”

“No. That’s courtesy of her grandma and her outfit earlier today. You know your mama loves sparkles.”

Patrice attempted to dust silver flecks from Nyla’s face to no avail. “Then lay it on me. I’m ready to be surprised. At least I think. I never know when you two get in cahoots.” 

True enough. Terry and Nyla usually found a way to cause havoc, whether in the middle of the night with a dance party or throughout the day with a host of loud distractions. Terry couldn’t deny his propensity to look for trouble with his partner in crime, but he could convince Patrice that, this time, their mischief was something she’d enjoy. 

Carefully, he pulled Nyla from Patrice’s arms and led her into the living room with strict instructions to keep her eyes covered until he gave her permission. Anticipation had Patrice nervously bouncing from foot to foot while she waited for the signal. Nothing in her immediate area gave away what she might see on the other side of an extended blink. There were no smells outside of something hearty with a hint of spice simmering nearby. The soft murmur of what sounded like Christmas music didn’t seem out of place. She attempted to feel for clues with one hand out in front but came up empty. 

“Can I open my eyes now,” she asked for the third time. 

Terry chuckled as he positioned her in the center of the room. “You’re so impatient, baby.” 

“Now, don’t make me start on you. We just had our first wedding anniversary on our original wedding date but I’m impatient?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Open your eyes before you go too far.”

All of Patrice’s smug laughter slowed to a halt as her eyes feasted on every detail in the room. Crooked garlands dusted in artificial snow adorned the fireplace. Gaps in the Christmas tree created portals to the blank wall behind it. Ornaments sat jumbled together with no rhyme or reason. The skirt meant to hide the unsightly plastic tree stand was comically flipped inside out. Her Christmas star, passed down from her mama’s mama sat glittering under soft white light, waiting to take its rightful place on top of her most eclectic tree to date. 

Each imperfection made her heart swell ten times its size, creating a steady stream of tears that coated her cheeks. 

She released a shaky breath, the sound betraying the emotions she attempted to keep at bay while she marveled at the tree with her back turned to her helpers. “Oh wow. You did all this for me?” 

“When I told Ny how much you love Christmas she was like, ‘Dad, we should do something for Mommy since we love her so much.’ It was all her idea. I only opened my wallet. And put stuff together. And held her the whole time because she hates her mat.”

“Yeah,” she asked, laughing to release nerves and wiping at her face as she finally turned to face them. “You talk that much, little girl?” 

“Oh, she’s a great conversationalist. Give her a little formula and she’ll yap all day.”

Patrice stepped closer to rub her nose across her daughter's cheek, inhaling the fresh baby scent that never failed to calm her often racing thoughts.

“This is…so sweet. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she started. “It’s been kinda tough to get excited this go round. I can’t really find that spark like before and I’m trying so hard.”

“I know. You’re doing a great job, Mama. A perfect job. I wouldn’t wanna be doing all this with anybody else,” Terry reassured while he pulled her into a hug. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing with all the love in her body when no words could get past the heavy lump in her throat. The leak in her emotional dam had erupted into a crater, turning small tears into a near sob that made her head hurt. She’d cried all of her sadness away in the dead of night or when sitting in traffic between work and home. This was happiness. An unmistakable joy and gratefulness for being blessed beyond her wildest imagination. 

Terry didn’t intervene or coax her into deep breaths to stop her crying. Instead, he held her close with one arm and alternated loving pecks between her head and Nyla’s face as the infant rested on his shoulder for comfort. Her tiny hand reached out to leave little pats against Patrice’s forehead, finally making her giggle as her crying paused. 

“You’re right. Mommy needs to get it together,” she laughed. “I’m killin’ the vibe big time.”

Terry chuckled. “MiMi cried when I showed her, too. Is this a happy cry or do you hate it?”

“I love it and I love y’all. So much. So, so much.”

“We love you more than we can put into words. You know, since one of us literally can’t talk.” 

Patrice's belly laugh made Terry grin from ear to ear in triumph. His chief concern was bringing her happiness, even if only for a few hours. He’d take today as a win and try to top it for the rest of his life. 

Wiping fresh tears from her eyes, she took a deep breath and received another whiff of the aroma wafting from the kitchen reminding her that she was starving from a day of educating the leaders of tomorrow. She hummed at the smell with her eyes closed. “Why didn’t you say you cooked? What is that? It smells good.”

“That is your other surprise. Think about it and tell me what you think it could be.” 

Hints of cayenne and the spice of fresh jalapenos made her nose tingle. Something warm and sweet followed as the perfect accessory to the savoriness commanding attention. The smell felt familiar. It felt like her childhood. It felt like home. 

Her eyes shot open and up to his in sudden realization. “Daddy’s chili! Really? Is that what that is?”

“I owe him some help in the shed but it’s worth it for you. Hope it brings back some magic for you.” Patrice stared at Terry, eyes misty and lips drooping in a deep frown that confused him. “Wait, what did I -”

“Oh my God, whyareyousoperfect!?” 

All of her words came out in another muffled sob as she dramatically buried her face into his chest. He couldn’t help but tease her, whispering comments about her theatrics and how she could’ve been a movie star from her ability to burst into hysterics at the drop of a hat. 

Drooping eyelids from their pride and joy forced them to share hushed laughter while Patrice regained enough of her composure to help add the finishing touches to their first Christmas display as a unit. Watching Patrice gently bounce Nyla to sleep while she adjusted ornaments and decor to her liking filled Terry with enough warm fuzzies to make him blink back emotions he didn’t know he had brewing. 

He had a family.

For all the ups, downs, and haymakers life had thrown him, he had two people looking up at him like the sun rose and set in his eyes. The thought alone took him back to his first time in the same spot with a pecan pie and a carefully wrapped gift in his hands. 

Terry slowly approached Patrice from behind to assist her in the effort to place the topper where it belonged. “Remember our first Christmas together?” 

“The one when you stayed too long and had your mama worried,” she laughed. “Yeah, I remember. Now look at you. Still over here after all this time.”

“I always knew what and who I wanted.” His declaration came with silly, loud smooches to her exposed neck while they wiggled the star into place atop the tree.  

Perfection. Patrice smiled at their joint effort and the feel of Terry holding her and Nyla close. She angled her head to watch him shower their little one in soft kisses.

“Hey,” she called to get his attention. “Merry Christmas, baby. Thank you. For everything.” 

He met her thanks with a tender kiss and the gentle graze of his lips against hers, sharing a silent conversation between lovers that needed no explanation. 

“Of course. Merry Christmas, honey.”

-----

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[boypied]

MY ETERNAL SUNSHINE.

pairings: tim laughlin (skippy) x top!male reader

summary: skippy wants to prove that he is your boy and yours only. so he decides that he will give you the greatest sex that you will ever know.

requested by: anonymous / me

word count: 1,863

warnings: smut, passionate love making, fingering, cum facial, dirty talk, choking, slight praising, ass spanking, oral sex (r!receiving), nipple play.

"The president is going to issue an EO... whatever that is." he says in an excitable tone as he takes off his blazer that compliments his figure so well. You sit down on the small but comfy chair opposite him as you watch him in his flustered, frustrated state as you wipe your face slightly. "Executive Order," you say to him as you watch how he throws his blazer to the full sized couch. You put your cigarette down and gently tap your thigh. "Come here," you say in your low ruffly tone, Tim obeys you as usual and sits down on your lap, but doesn't stop his informative rant. "...and they're worried that Eisenhowar is trying to undermind that project." Tim says in a full breath, stopping for a moment to catch it.

Tim leans closer against your body, wrapping one arm around your neck. Your hand immediately darts up and begins undoing his top button, "by taking the lead on an anti communist crusade?" Your voice raises slightly as you ask him this pressing question about his rant, "I think so." Tim mutters out as he turns to face you, completely letting you manhandle him like a doll on his lap. "Senator McCarthy wants to ignore it, but Roy thinks that they -" before he can finish you butt in after the mention of Roy. "Roy?!" You say, trying to hide your jealous tone as your hand slips into his unbuttoned shirt and caressing his body softly. "You on a first name basis?" You say in a soft but domineering tone.

You gently pinch his nipple causing his to sharply groan and smirk slightly as he playfully pushes your shoulder, "Mr Comb thinks it's the smarter move to expose those who are behind the order" he says in a more professional tone. "Which will force Heisenhowar to do the right thing!" Tim says as his professionalism slips away, "Any idea on what the Executive Order is about?" You say wanting to get more information out of him because you're a very noisy man. "No... I'm sorry," Tim says softly to you as you continue caressing his chest. "What are you going to do with this information? ... share it with Senator Smith?" He asks you with a curious look, coating his face.

"Only if I have to." You reply truthfully to him as your eyes travel up from his exposed chest to meet his soft eyes. "I try to protect the Senator from his own worse impulses," you say to him with an honest look on your face as your eyes meet with his as you face each other. You lean up and grip the back of Tim's head, getting closer to him and placing a big kiss against his forehead and pulling away, watching his slightly flustered face. You help him adjust his black framed glasses. "I have to get dressed," you say to him as you begin to shuffle up until Tim gently places his hand on your stomach, pushing you down showing that he doesn't want you to move.

Tim's hand presses against you with more support, pushing you down a bit more while staring at you, "I wanna go to the party" he confesses to you in a tone that says he will be going. "The Cromwells? ... don't get me wrong, he'd cling onto you like a jellyfish-" before you can even finish what you were going to say Tim cuts you off like you did to him not long before "then take me" he says while his tone has some underlying annoyance. I take a deep breath that turns into a sigh, "You're not even dressed for it and you don't have a date." You say honestly to him trying not to crush his wishes to hard, "I'll be with you!" Tim says his tone becoming more excited as his fingers gently play with your earlobe.

Your hand gently caresses his face, and your eyes change slightly into more caring, "this is the real world..skippy," you say to him, bursting his bubble. Skippy leans closer to you, closing the inches between your face, his breath hitting your face as he begins speaking, "I'm your boy.. right?" He asks you in a soft manner. Skippy begins to manoeuvre off your lap, hovering above you slightly as he slowly travels down your body onto his knees on the floor "well well well." You say in a seductive whisper as you watch him get down on his knees. "..and your boy wants to go to the party," Skippy adds in as his eyes never leave yours. "How much does he want to go?" You ask him as both your eyes stare into eachothers hungry orbs.

Skippy leans down, his face in between your legs as he pulls your cock out of the slit at the front of your pants, his eyes widen in shock. Skippy's seen your cock a handful of times before it's even been buried in his ass countless times but it always takes his breath away the moment he sees it for the first time after a while. He nibbles at his lip softly as his eyes dart up from your cock to meet with your perfect eyes looking down at him, he doesn't break the sexual eye fucking as he leans forward and takes your tip in his mouth, Skippy swirls his tongue around your pre-cum coated tip.

"That's a good boy." You groan out in a breathy moan as your hands grip the scruff of hair at the back of his head forcing the rest of your cock down his slick wet throat. He choked slightly, but it doesn't take long for him to get use to the feeling of your cock being buried where it belongs. The sensational feeling of pleasure runs through his body anytime you take control and your dominance drips off of you. Your hands grip either side of Skippy's head, a small smirk forming on his lips as you begin to slowly fuck his throat, bucking your hips up and down. He moans in pleasure, and his eyes ever so slightly flutter back as you begin to speed up.

After a while of Skippy choking, moaning and spluttering all over your cock you pull your cock away from his mouth, hearing him let out a deep breath and also a small "awh" noise as he misses the contact. Skippy gets up and strips off naked, revealing his hairy chest and hot toned body that you love all so much. You stand up and pull down your plaid boxers as your cock springs freely, you gently sway your cock side to side adding some comedy into this deep sexual tension moment. You softly bite your lip as Tim climbs against the chair, his arms going back to open up his juicy asscheeks revealing his soft bubble gum pink hole to you.

You bite your lip, and a huge smirk grows on your face. You have no choice but to dive straight in. You get in the same position he was in as he was sucking your cock, your tongue coming into contact with his hole that is pulsating and begging for attention. Your soft tongue pushes past his muscle ring and into his warm hole, your tongue dips in and out feeling the way his walls clench around your tongue wanting you more and more. You don't eat him out for to long as you can tell how desperate he his for your cock.

You pull away and watch how his small hole clenches around nothing and how it glistens against the light. You smirk as Skippy flips himself round, slouching down against the chair pulling his legs up giving you the perfect opportunity to slide your cock right in and you didn't want to waste that opportunity. You lean your knees either side of his body and down against the pillowy couch chair, you rub your glisteningly wet tip against his hole and slowly but surely pushing yourself inside him.

Skippy's mouth makes an 'O' shape as he takes the entirety of your cock and everything you have to give him. You lean down, your face now inches away from his as you feel his hot breath against your face. Both faces painted with blush as you slowly pull out just to immediately thrust back into his clenched tight hole. He holds his legs open for you, allowing you to freely destroy him. "Good boy!" You groan out in agonising pleasure as his asshole's grip on you is to die for, "I'm your boy, I'm your good boy!" Skippy whimpers out as with each thrust his rock hard cock bounces.

"Y/N!" I gasps out in pleasure as Skippy's hands grip onto your shoulders pulling you closer to him, both your naked bodies pressed against eachother as you thrust into him. You piston fuck him which he loves when you do it, the feeling of his walls closing around you as he nears his release as he jerks himself off faster and faster. You pull away slightly and you wrap your hand around his neck, tighten slightly. As you choke him in a loving manner his walls clench around you until with one final pump of his hand around his own cock he shoots his own load all over his hairy chest.

"DADDY!" Skippy moans out in an agonising amount of pleasure, causing his eyes to roll back and his body to shudder. You fuck him through his entire orgasm. You buck your hips into him a couple more times until you pull out, "I wanna shoot it on your face" you say as you're out of breath. You smirk as Skippy is down on his knees, his own cum dripping off his chest as he smirks up at you. You pump your cock quicker in your hand looking at his face, you begin to feel overstimulated causing you to shoot your load all over Skippy's face.

"F-FUCK!" You groan out in pleasure as you begin to shoot your thick ropes of cum all over his face, painting it white with your semen. You throw your head back as you pump the last shot of cum out onto his face, you drop down to your knees to come eye level with Skippy. Your eyes meet with his once again, as you both chuckle slightly and breath heavily. "My boy" You whisper to him as you wipe some of his cum from his chest and bring it up to your mouth tasting him.

You suck on your thumb, tasting every single essence of him you watch Skippy do the same with the facial you just gave him. "So party time now" Tim says excitedly as he stands up and practically runs off into the bedroom and then into the connected unsuite. You follow along after him not wanting to miss out on shower time together, "Skippy! Wait up!" You shout out to him as you chase after him. You both end up having a make out session in the shower before the party that Skippy was dying to go to with you.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold

[ang3lc]

pleaseeee can i ask for Simon and a cam girl?

i love the idea of the average cam girl getting some special attention and tips from the grumpy solider

of course you can doll !

simon x camgirl!reader (fem), suggestive, my mind kind of went away with this one :/, ps: should I start making headers for fics??

You’d always been careful about keeping the two parts of your life separate. By day, you were a soldier—focused, professional, working alongside men like Simon Riley, men who noticed everything and missed nothing. By night, you were swathed in shadows, pink lace, and satin sheets, faceless yet vibrant in ways you couldn’t allow yourself to be during the day.

It was a delicate balancing act, one you’d perfected over time. But even the best plans can fall apart.

That mission was supposed to be routine—a simple extraction, in and out, no complications. But, as always, distractions have a way of complicating a firefight. And a bullet had come too close.

Simon had been the one to find you once the fighting died down, crouched behind cover and pressing your hand to your bleeding arm.

“Y'hit,” he said, his voice as even as ever, though his eyes scanned you with a sharpness that made your chest tighten.

“Just a graze,” you replied, gritting your teeth as he knelt beside you.

“Hold still f'me.”

He pulled out his kit, his hands steady as he cleaned and stitched the wound. You bit back a wince, the sting sharp but nothing compared to the weight of his gaze.

“Y'lucky,” he said finally, tying off the last stitch. “An inch t'the left, 'n we’d be havin' a different conversation.”

You nodded, mumbling a quiet thanks before he helped you to your feet. The mission went on, the wound forgotten in the chaos, but later, when you stripped off your gear, you traced the neat line of stitches and thought about the way his hands had felt—steady, sure, and too close for comfort.

He didn’t forget.

The way your blood had stained his gloves, the way you’d flinched but didn’t complain. It wasn’t the first time he’d patched up a teammate, but something about it stayed with him.

Two weeks later, he still found himself thinking about it, replaying the moment like it held an answer he hadn’t figured out yet.

He doesn’t remember when it started—the quiet pull toward something he knew wasn’t wise. Nights after long missions blurred into watching her, RosyRail, with her baby doll lingerie, her seemingly always kiss-bitten lips, and hair that always fell just right. The name was a sugary veil, but what kept him coming back was the sharpness beneath her sweetness. The wit that cut through the screen and made his cock twitch.

She never showed her face. Just soft-lit glimpses of her lips, her hands, the curve of her neck, and always the way she moved—purposeful, but never desperate. He shouldn’t have been curious, but he was.

Something had been nagging at him—the way she covered herself so carefully, never letting the camera linger too long on anything that might reveal her identity. It was deliberate, and Simon knew deliberate when he saw it.

The pieces came together all at once.

Simon sat in his quarters, the screen’s glow reflecting in his eyes as he watched her. She shifted, leaning forward slightly to adjust the camera, and the sleeve of her robe slipped down her shoulder.

His breath hitched.

There, on her upper arm, was a scar. Fresh, pink, and impossibly familiar.

It was you.

RosyRail was you.

You settled into your chair, the familiar brush against your skin grounding you as you adjusted the camera and the straps of your lace chemise. The pink robe draped carefully over your shoulders, a soft contrast to the nerves coiling in your chest.

The ritual was the same every time: a deep breath, a flick of the live button, and the mask slipping effortlessly into place.

“Evening, everyone,” you said, your tone warm and inviting, smoothing over the rough edges of your day. “How’s everyone doing tonight?”

The chat lit up instantly, the usual flood of greetings and flattery scrolling past, but your focus zeroed in on one name: Frosty_14

There he was. A smile tugged at your lips. Silent as always, reliable as ever. You leaned closer to the camera, resting your chin in your palm. “Perfect timing, as always, Frost.”

You were lost in the rhythm of your stream for a while, teasing the viewers with even more skin when the price was right, but missing your favorite tipper. He usually tipped the most, making everybody else work a little harder. Aside from that, everything was flowing as it always did.

You didn’t hear it at first, the sound of a knock muffled by the low hum of soft music and the noise of donation alerts, but then, there it was again—louder this time, followed by the unmistakable creak of your barrack door swinging open.

The sight of him made your stomach plummet. You slammed the laptop shut, your heart pounding in panic, but it was already too late. The damage had been done. He’d seen it all—the soft glow of the sunset lamp, the faux-background you’d carefully set up, all leading to you sitting there, legs crossed, perched in a chair with your tits pushed up high, a flimsy thong barely covering your front. You were laid out for him, every inch of you meticulously arranged, like a gift waiting to be unwrapped.

You couldn’t breathe. Your pulse thundered in your ears as Simon took a slow step into the room, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft thud. He didn’t say a word. His silence was heavier than any accusation, and instead of speaking, his eyes roamed over you—every inch of you, the way you tried, desperately, to pull the robe back over your body. His gaze lingered, unrelenting, a smoldering heat that burned through the fabric, settling on every exposed curve. You could feel the weight of it, impossible to ignore.

He didn’t respond right away. A cold sweat trickled down your spine as he moved toward you with deliberate confidence that made the air thick with tension.

"So," he said, his voice low, dangerous, as though he were savoring the moment. "This wha' y'been hidin', yeah? Like to plaster y'tits on a screen?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and your heart skipped a beat. "I..I.." You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, but the words were trapped. There was no easy way out now. The reality of the situation—of him, really seeing you—settled in, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

Then, finally, he smirked. The corner of his lips twitched upward, a slow, knowing curve, and even through the black of his mask, you could see it shift, subtle but unmistakable. It sent a jolt through you, making your stomach flip. The tension pressing down on you both like a vice. 

“Y’ve got some explaining to do,” he said, his tone almost teasing.

You sat there, frozen for a moment, trying to regain control of your racing thoughts. But all at once, the weight of it hit you. 

He already knew.

The realization crashed over you, and the instinct to cover yourself or hide evaporated. You couldn’t ignore it. He had known. And there was only one way how.

Without thinking, you stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you closed the distance between you. You stood toe-to-toe with him, the heat from his body radiating toward you. His towering presence made you feel small, but you squared your shoulders, refusing to back down.

“How?” you demanded, your voice sharp as you closed the distance between you. Your chest was tight with a mix of frustration and panic. “How did you find out?”

Simon’s gaze stayed steady, but there was a flicker behind his eyes—something that told you he hadn’t expected this. His mask hid so much, but his posture—his silence—spoke volumes.

He didn’t answer right away, just stood there, unmoving, his eyes narrowed slightly. The seconds stretched, thick with tension. But then, to your surprise, his shoulders tensed, and he lowered his gaze, as if reconsidering.

“I—" he began, his voice slower than before. "I didn’t know, not at first.”

“I noticed somethin'.” He sighed, like he was working through his own thoughts. "I saw y'.... y'robe slip.” He paused, his gaze drifting briefly to your arm.

The scar.

You stiffened. You hadn’t thought about it, not until now. The scar, the one you had thought you'd kept hidden, had betrayed you.

Simon’s eyes lingered on the now exposed reddish-pink mark for a moment, his gaze suddenly soft, almost apologetic. Without a word, his hand reached out, almost hesitantly. The brush of his fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, his touch light but undeniable. He ran his hand over your arm, following the curve of the scar as if memorizing it, as if trying to understand.

You didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and in that moment, the weight of everything you’d been hiding seemed to disappear beneath his hand.

“I didn’t know it was you,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost unsure. “Not until I saw this.”

You could feel his thumb tracing the scar, his breath soft against your skin. A silence fell between you, and the space that had been charged with tension shifted into something else—something far more fragile.

His statement hung in the air, unchallenged. Simon’s hand lingered, his touch no longer just a simple gesture, but something more intimate, something you didn’t quite understand.

But you didn’t need to say anything. The truth had already spoken for itself. Your fingers slipped into his, a gentle but insistent pull guiding him further into the room. Simon followed without hesitation, his body attuned to your lead, moving pliantly with you. When your palms pressed against his chest, he let you ease him back until the bed creaked beneath his weight.

A soft grunt rumbled from his chest as you crawled atop his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips, anchoring him beneath you. You leaned in, your lips brushing the shell of his masked ear, your voice curling around him like smoke, thick and syrupy, dripping with saccharine temptation.

"Let me show you some other services I offer... Frost."

mlist

[vieoeil-riae]

get clean, get dirty

steb/fem!reader

warnings: shower sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), mutual pining, selectively mute!steb, steb has a cool less-human tongue ;), flirty!reader, 18+ MDNI, 4.1k words

synopsis: in the crescendo of a flirt, you finally push the right buttons to put steb's fantasies of your wet body under his touch in motion

read on ao3 | ao3 profile | ao3 collection

You stuck to Steb’s side like glue on the long walk back to his place. Dead silent in the setting sun, the dusky light doing nothing to hide the dusty pink hue that played on his pretty cheekbones.

Silence was well made up for in the way your hands were tightly entwined and your bodies pressed close to one another. There was a buzz between you, electric, ecstatic, that made your heart flutter and your breathing turn more and more stuttery the closer you got to your goal.

And while Steb was much better at schooling his face, he wasn’t fairing much better than you. Gripping your hand just a bit too tight and taking quicker, longer strides than he usually would. You smiled at that, months of teasing and chatting and fluttering lashes getting you exactly where you wanted.

Months, almost a year, of flirting with the cute enforcer you just couldn’t help but notice around. Learning how to read him where words failed him, exploring every inch of himself that he’d give you; it was like solving the most satisfying puzzle, with the most gratifying rewards of teasing him and watching his face flush, understanding him and watching the relief soak his features.

Maybe you’d pushed it today. You were loitering around a community hall the force used for hand-to-hand training and the likes, your presence coming to be expected by Steb’s colleagues who seemed to enjoy having you around — if only because it meant they could rag on him for the cute chick who followed him around like a clingy cat.

Chattier and more verbally confident than him, you’d taken it upon yourself to commentate on his round, wolf-whistling and throwing him a sultry wink as he pinned a colleague to the ground. It was encouraging, in your defense.

The breaking point must’ve been the very end of the session. Steb, clad in a compression shirt — that fit him much too nicely for you not to ogle — walked right up to you, his face read ‘really?’ in deadpan disbelief that you’d be so bold here. But the bright blush on his cheeks told a different story, one you couldn’t help but smirk at.

“Hey, Stebby.” You chirped innocently, a grin taking over your face that went from perfectly bright to rather devious. “You stink. You gonna shower soon?”

His eyebrows quirked, as almost invasive as you were, you hadn’t asked questions like that before. He nodded once, firmly, but with a cautious pinch of his brows and a barely noticeable downturn of his lips. What were you playing at?

“Mmm, sounds nice,” you cooed thoughtfully, “can I join you?”

The question, said much more seriously than your usual flirts, hit Steb like a sack of bricks. It showed on his face as his eyes widened in surprise and his blush became ferocious. You adored the way his lips dropped open ever so slightly, staring at him expectantly through your eyelashes.

“Is that a no?” A flirt you were, but a creep you were not. Sometimes you felt like you overstepped, so the least you could do was give him an out.

In Steb’s mind, an out was the last thing he wanted. Cocky, chatty, everything he wasn’t and he should’ve found you intolerable but for months you had occupied his mind in a hostile takeover. You knocked the sense out of his head. He dreamed of you, every part; softly sharing space to tangling in each other with burning passion.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you in that way before on his own terms, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined how your skin would look damp, dripping with water and sweat. Your skin looked so soft, it must feel like heaven under hot water.

He’d probably die before he’d admit he kept getting stuck on the thought of your bare, wet, hot body pressed flush with his — gasping at the feeling of your back meeting the cold shower tiles and your tits squashed against his firm chest. You seemed to love the way he pinned down his peers in training, surely your hand would find a harsh purchase twisting in his hair as he pinned you to the wall and took you standing.

The insinuation that you wanted that too was testing Steb more than anything ever had before. It took an immense amount of self control to not act rashly in that hall, as much as he wanted to shut you up in a searing kiss.

That conflict was entirely internal. You stared up at him in mild worry as you watched as his eyes glazed like he wasn’t grounded anymore — the frills on his cheekbones twitching out of time before he found the way out of his thoughts.

His eyes held a fire you hadn’t seen before, it froze you solid. Steb shook his head, a smug look encompassing his features. He jerked his head towards the door, not taking his eyes off you. An invitation, a dare. 

Just what buttons had you pressed to provoke him into returning the challenge? You pondered the thought the whole way.

You watched as he fumbled with his keys, delighting in the huff he let out and the frustrated twinge of his lips. 

The smug look on your face was wiped off the second you were pulled inside; Steb had you caged between him and the wall in seconds, his face closer to yours than it had ever been before with a flicker of his eyes tracing your face. You could see the occasional blink of his third eyelids, speechless at the way they glistened — god, he was so pretty. Your breathing sped up, begging for you to breathe him in.

The smell of his sweat was fainter than you thought it would be, but you could still smell him and that with the strands of hair that were starting to fall in his face were a dangerous combo. He shed his jacket, leaving him in his tight shirt and the bottom half of his usual uniform.

Steb was bad for your heart, especially with the way you could see a sliver of skin where his pants hung lower than they should on his hips.

He shot you an accusatory stare. The tilt of his head, so sweet normally, was almost intimidating with how slowly, purposefully, he moved. He let the silence do the work for him, let it get you rambling — it was cute that he finally made you trip up on your words. You were so suave normally.

“I- Uh- You… planning on taking that seriously?” You swallowed, afraid of if you’d messed up but so starstruck with this new side of Steb. He was so… sweet, sort of passive usually, content with letting you take the initiative in your interactions — the switch up had you stumbling, but you weren’t complaining.

You’d seen a flash of a more commandeering self lurking beneath his quiet exterior more than once. It had done a number on you the first time; the way his eyes narrowed and the sudden and confident intentionality of his movements had taken the air from your lungs. You found yourself the object of that focused stare now, and it was making you weak in the knees.

Without breaking eye contact, he crowded you closer, your noses a scant few centimetres apart. One brow raised, his eyelids drooping in a way you’d only dreamed of before, his eyes searched your face for permission. Your glittering eyes gave it readily.

His lips met yours, softer than you thought they would, but as you bit at his bottom lip you could feel him leaning into you. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head knocked against the wall, you stayed connected for a moment longer before Steb slowly pulled away. 

You had half a mind left to chase his lips, but the sweet touch of one of his fingers against your chin felt too good to protest. His head tilted, a slight nod gesturing down the hall — kissed silly, you were having a hard time stringing what he wanted together. 

Tracing down the shape of your body, his hand found yours again and loosely held, Steb pulled you down the hall. You fell into step quickly however, and it didn’t take you long to reach the door he was intent on finding. Pushing it open, your mouth dropped. His bathroom. He wasn’t kidding about taking you up on the offer.

You turned back to him, mouth open. Disheveled, he leaned against the door frame quietly observing you with intense eyes, your breath caught in your throat. What a figure he was…

You shuffled into the room, curious, almost bashful. When you looked over your shoulder at him, with hot cheeks and an inviting tilt of your head, it was like you were trying to kill him. You were right where he wanted you, like something out of one of his dreams. Every time you met his eyes again you made his cock ache just a little more.

Steb followed you in soon enough, leaning around you to turn the shower on. You felt so flustered standing there, waiting for the water to warm up, wondering just how he had this much control over you without even having to say anything.

He circled around to face you, a firm, searching look in his eyes as he pinched your shirt between his fingers. Did you want this? And you knew he wasn’t going to continue without an answer.

Slyly, taking satisfaction in the way his ears twitched, you raised your arms. Coyly, teasingly daring him to take it off for you — not about to give up winding him up. A furious blush coated his cheeks, a sign you were winning, but he didn’t slow; more and more of your clothes being delicately removed while he never once looked away.

By the time he had you in your underwear, the distinction between your own heated blush and the heat of the shower’s steam was blurred completely.

“It’s a bit unfair that you’ve lost no clothes yet, don’t you think?” You asked, biting your lip with fervour as you pinched at the well fitting shirt. Your hand slid underneath the tight hem and your breath caught at the feeling of fairly toned muscles, not super defined — but just enough for you to very much enjoy them.

The shirt was lost quickly, as were the rest of his clothes and you were left with your mouth ajar at the fact that the sweet, quiet, Steb was hiding all that underneath his clothes. You had half the mind to be jealous of the fabric.

His hands tugged at your underwear, impatiently, as he cornered you against the shower door. They were promptly discarded.

The warm water poured over your skin, the steam making Steb look softer through it. 

You pressed a kiss to the skin of his shoulder, tasting the salty sheen coating it as your tongue darted across the spot. You couldn’t help but pepper him with more kisses, trailing them up his neck where you found the tender spot that made Steb inhale sharply when you nipped it.

His hand twined with the wet hair of your nape, pulling you back enough for him to see you properly. 

Water poured in streams over your curves, adding a shine to your skin. Your hair stuck slick to your skin too, darker as it got saturated. Tantalising, you stood there, bare and flushed and putting his dirty fantasies to shame. 

Accurate to them however, you were as forward as ever, jumping at the chance to slick your hands with soap (a rather gentle kind, you’d discovered) and run your hands over wherever you could reach. The effect was instant, Steb’s breathing became brilliantly laboured, almost panting through the thick steam as you got so close to him but didn’t press your body to his quite yet.

Your hands deftly swiped past his nipples, making his chest jump. Steb let out a small whine that you clocked instantly, one you decided you absolutely had to hear again; you swiped at them again, fondling them, pinching at them, drawing the most explicit noises from Steb’s throat.

You were as handsy as he hoped you’d be, having your hands on him already felt lecherously satisfying. Fuck, and this was just the start, if he was guessing. 

He hissed as you closed your lips around one of his sensitive nipples, his hands finding your hips when you ran your teeth over it, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. His grip was strong and you couldn’t find yourself worrying about bruises, in all honesty you were hoping he’d leave some — all the flirting and innuendos and sweet taunting, there was no way this would end in anything other than a carnal display of need.

Steb’s hands wandered over your body, the satisfaction of seeing you bare had his head swimming already but the feel of your damp skin under his fingers had him nearly shaking. Softly, he palmed your tit, exploring and devoted. The thin string of his composure was fraying by the second.

You smiled against his skin and wanting more you kissed your way up to his lips again, taking a selfish lick up the column of his throat just to taste him. You were met with a crushing kiss, overwhelming desire fueling the searing dance of your lips.

The flow of water over your heads, chaotic and streaming over where your lips connected made the kiss feel more like a mess. Biting at Steb’s lips harder than you meant to, he groaned, and you brushed his tongue with yours the second the opportunity presented itself.

Hot and warm, you felt it all over. Your hands traced the outside of the gills resting by his jawline with purpose as you pressed yourself as close as you could — almost annoyed by the slickness of the water that almost felt in the way.

He tilted his head, pushing deeper, breathlessly allowing himself to grope you. You whined into his mouth at his touch that ghosted lower and lower, sweeping over your cunt. 

Steb pulled away, leaving you gasping, and gave you that familiar look — the tilt of his head asking for permission. He wanted to fuck you so bad but he was still so respectful, it sent a pang of need straight to your core, making it ache deliciously. The thought of finally being able to see his face twisted in pleasure, of watching himself lose his grip on his self control because of you made your head spin.

“Fuck, Steb, quit being such a gentleman.” You murmured through the water, grasping at his hand and guiding it to where you wanted him most. More than just the gentle touch before, you could feel the pads of his fingers trace your cunt, slick with your wetness. 

In turn your hand was guided to his shoulder as he backed you against the cold tile wall, his head buried in your wet hair. You gasped loudly at the frigid sensation on your back, arching up into his fingers.

Peppering your temple with kisses, his fingers circled your clit before lewdly dipping into your aching cunt. Steb panted into your ear, feeling the way your wet body writhed against him and the way your cunt greedily sucked his fingers in. He curled them and you moaned, your mouth opening so invitingly, and he captured your lips in another consuming kiss.

The feeling of his fingers, thicker than your own but still devastatingly lithe, playing with your pussy and the heel of his palm grinding against your clit was going to ruin you. Lustful and obscene, you’d never felt so good and so dirty at once. Taking his tongue in your mouth, moaning around it as the kiss grew sloppy, water seeping in everywhere — you were lost to the sensation.

Feeling your orgasm start to pool in your gut, your hands struggled for purchase on Steb’s lean, slippery shoulders. They brushed against the fins that ran down his spine, ones you liked to trace with your eyes when he wasn’t paying attention, and he shivered at the feeling. 

Your hips rutted into his hand desperately, chasing your peak, lewd sounds falling from your mouth and into his ear. He pulled away and you whined at the loss of his hand between your thighs, the frills on his cheekbones fluttering at your blissed-out, needy look.

Without breaking eye contact, Steb clasped his hand over yours that still rested on his shoulders. He peeled one off, but keeping it pressed to his skin he trailed it down his toned abdomen. Your gaze flitted between his wet, dishevelled look — the hair plastered to his face; the flush on his cheeks; the subtle twitching of his ears and frills — and the burning path he carved downwards with your hand.

He couldn’t look away, you noticed, his lidded eyes glued to your hand; pliant in his and inching further and further towards his cock. Taking initiative through the fuzzy feeling that was stuffed in your head, you reached the rest of the way yourself, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock.

Steb groaned at the sight, his head slumping forward as his eyes fluttered closed. You bit your lip, admiring him for a moment — keeping your hand still just to tease him.

“Open your eyes, Steb. Look at me.” You purred, the way he did so immediately with blushing cheeks and ears that were shyly pinned halfway back plucked a chord of satisfaction in your gut. “You gonna show me how you like it?”

A strangled noise fell from his throat, his eyes screwing shut for a moment before looking at where his hand still held yours. 

You eyed the way his stomach tense when he finally moved your hands, stroking his cock torturously slow. Your thumb darted out from under his to swipe at his tip, a motion that made him jerk into your hands and quietly whimper. You could almost see the hearts in his eyes through his fluttering lashes, cute.

“You wanna keep it like this? Or do you want to fuck me?” You asked boldly, pushing yourself off the wall to get in his face. A flash of surprise flitted across his features, before a horny, conflicted look took its place. 

Your free hand stroked at his cheek, just under his still-fluttering frills, “your call, put me where you want me.”

Steb’s hips jerked again at your salacious tone. Despite all the sensation, he clung to restraint; you wanted to break that more than anything. You wanted to see that darker, animal look swim in his eyes when he looked at you, unabashedly focused on getting what he wanted. You almost moaned at the thought of caring, quiet Steb fucking into you like an animal in heat.

You searched for his other hand, holding the curve of your back, and pulled it up towards your neck. You tilted your head to get millimetres closer. “Take what you want from me. Please. I mean it.”

You wanted him so bad, something so obvious since you started to really get to know each other. But the extent of your desire left him breathless. You wanted to give him anything he wanted, without restraint. He wanted to see you fall apart.

A shadow of unimpeded desire lidded his eyes. Steb pushed you firmly against the wall, you gasped at the temperature as well as the new drive that shone in his eyes — just like you’d seen when he leaned against the doorframe earlier. 

Unlike what you were expecting, he sank to his knees; hands tracing every curve of your body with immense care as he went down. Kisses, nips, and bites were left in his wake, stretching from your collarbone to your breast bone and all the way down to your pelvis. The last nip at your skin was left just above your cunt.

Fuck, he looked beautiful with the shower stream running down his lean, arched back, with a look in his eyes — hazy, unfocused — that screamed how lost in you he was, knees spread open. You whimpered at the feeling of his face pressed up against the outside of your pussy.

Steb’s warm hand encircled your ankle, the warmth travelling straight to your sopping cunt, and pushed your legs apart. 

Without restraint, he tilted his head and pressed a sloppy kiss to your clit; taking it in his mouth and suckling. His tongue, that felt more pointed than you’d expected, lapped at it with fervour. Steb’s eyes, closed in pleasure and focus, fluttered open to take in the way your body arched from the wall. A small smirk graced his lips from his place between your thighs, frills fluttering against the soft flesh surrounding them.

His hands slid enticingly up your legs, coming to hold your hips, pulling you closer to his mouth. Rising slightly on his knees for a better angle, he made out sloppily with your cunt, oversensitive cocktip brushing the shower floor for a second in a way that made him moan in earnest against you.

You squealed at the feeling, writhing between Steb’s hands, pushing him closer to your weeping entrance. His tongue plunged in, nose grinding into your clit in a way that made you gasp and twist your hands into his hair. 

His tongue was much longer than you’d expected, thinner and more pointed at the tip and thicker at the base. And by god was it flexible, fucking into you with ardour and rubbing against your gummy walls fast and hard. The lewd squelch of Steb eating you out like a starved man echoed against the shower walls, along with your moans.

Circling your hips with his forearms, hands coming to rest close to his face, he pulled you onto him impossibly further. You were seeing stars at this point, shower water trickling off of your stomach, curved with how hard you arched trying to chase the feeling. Your hips rocked against his face as much as they were allowed.

You looked bewitching from Steb’s place between your thighs, face flicking through expressions he’d only dreamed of seeing; your quick tongue reduced to babbling; your body writhing from his touch alone.

You caught the staring, burning eyes full of thirst almost swallowed by your flesh. The reality of the situation crashed into you at full force, the guy you’d been pining after was getting off from being trapped between your legs. Steb’s eyes, full of want, drank you in like you were the only person in the world.

His fingers snaked under your thigh, pressing against your cunt before joining his tongue. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his slick tongue and deft fingers stretching you out for a moment before his tongue slipped out. Your disappointed whine was cut short by the feeling of his tongue lapping at your clit.

Curling into the right spot, your head fell back in a long groan. You panted into the thick, wet air as the knot in your stomach grew tighter and warmer, wanton moans pouring from your lips more and more often; growing pitch as you hurtled closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Fuck- Steb-” You whimpered breathily, before being cut off by your own draw out mewl as his tongue flicked your clit hard, fingers stretching you deliciously. 

With a choked noise, you came hard; your fingers dug into his hair and you slumped forward. His ministrations didn’t let up however, fucking you through it as you trembled above him, thighs clamping around his jaw. Steb’s name tumbled from your lips like a breathless prayer.

He pulled away from your cunt, covered in you and panting. You watched his shoulders rise and fall violently with it, and you sorely hoped that the sensuous, pussy-drunk look on his face was from pleasure and not mild asphyxiation. Whatever it was, it was hot.

You slid down the wall, your shaking legs stretching out either side of him, fixated on his eyes. You spent a minute more resting, before a sultry grin stretched across your lips. You pulled your legs back in, contorting yourself into crawling a mere couple of inches closer to his face.

You kissed him under the pouring water, softly, but messily — tasting yourself on his tongue. You felt him swallow. You pulled back.

Your hand traced down his chest, sensually caressing his nipple. You traced the movement with your eyes for long enough for him to breathlessly mumble ‘fuck’ before your eyes lit up and stared him straight in the eye again. You could get him to say that again, maybe. 

“How about your turn, handsome?”

His hand on the back of your head pulled you into a fervent kiss, taking you with him as he leaned back as far as the cold, glass shower panel would let him. You giggled against Steb’s lips, looking him in the eyes as your hands travelled south.

A/N: that mf swallowed some shower water there's literally no way he didn't. he probably didn't even notice. luv yas 🫶

banner cr: @/cafekitsune

[inkdrinkerworld]

Tactics

Pairing: hockey!sirius x reader (established relationship) (wc: 1.4k)

Cw: reader is slightly bratty, SMUT, MDNI 18+ ONLY, brat!reader, degradation (slight), p in v penetration (unprotected but he does pull out), hair pulling, fluffy ending. I think that’s it but lmk if I missed anything

You’re riding Sirius’ every last nerve as you stomp around the house with a pout in full effect. It’s not so much that you can’t be upset, it’s that you’re doing it for his attention and he’s not giving you the satisfaction.

He’s busy this weekend, which you’d known, but so what if you feel a bit needy and want him to pay you some mind.

God damn Sirius for turning you into this.

He’s going over strategies for the game in a few days, his hockey coach drilling all sorts of tactics into his head as enforcer and all that.

You sigh for the tenth time and Sirius bites the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from saying anything.

“Siri, can’t you take a break? We can pop into the Christmas market before it gets too busy.”

He rolls his eyes, you’d been to the Christmas market two hours before and gotten everything you’d wanted.

Sirius knows your tricks, which is how he accurately predicts that due to his lack of response you’d flip yourself on the settee next to him and drop your head into his lap.

“Sirius.”

He looks down at you, grey eyes nearly blue. “Poppet, we spoke about this. After tomorrow I’m all yours.”

He pats your cheek and goes back to his iPad reading through the opposing team’s strategy and trying to see potential lineups and who he can best agitate tomorrow night.

You huff again, “You never have time for me.”

You know you’re being petulant and whiny but it’s not your fault.

Sirius has been gone nearly two weeks and he’s off again tomorrow with a week off. It’s that week off that has your body thrumming with excitement and nerves and Sirius looks good.

He always has but all the training and the games have toned him ridiculously.

Hence your attitude not being your fault.

“That’s not true.” Sirius frowns at your words.

“It is true. You’ve hardly called,” not true- Remus was telling him he’s just as bad as James was while they were away, not that Sirius cared. “And when you’re home you’re always on your iPad.”

You’re starting to push his buttons; your words are exaggerations and you both know it.

“Poppet, just give me till tomorrow.” His words have a bit of bite to them and it sets your mood in cement.

“Oh yeah? And then tomorrow night after your big win and you’ve busted up your nose again, I’ll have to tend to you and then you’ll want to go see your friends and go to the pub, and-“ your rant is cut short by Sirius gabbing your jaw and applying just enough pressure that your cheeks swish and you gasp a little.

“You’re itching for a row and I’m not having one with you. Cut it out.” His grey eyes narrow, watching as yours widen like saucers. When he releases your face with a quick peck your resolve doubles.

“Or what? You barely even have time right now for a kiss.”

Sirius chuckles and sets his iPad to the side. His hands are strong and firm where they pull you to sit in his lap and face him.

“Is this the hill you want to die on, poppet?” Your shoulders rise just as Sirius shakes his head. “Think about what you’re gonna say, baby.”

You’ve thought about it and it’ll get you exactly what you want. Sirius can almost taste the words before they’re out of your mouth.

“Am I wrong? This is the most attention I’ve had from you since you came back from Coventry.”

It’s the snark in your tone that has your boyfriend’s hand sliding round your neck, a gentle hold but a hold nonetheless.

“Such a smart girl but you just can’t help trouble, can you?”

You shrug and that solidifies the type of night you’re about to have.

Sirius’ hand tightens around your neck, his lips pressed beside your ear. “You’re such a fucking brat,” his lips create a trail from your earlobe to your collarbone, bites and kisses interchanged and left over on your skin till he reaches your lips.

“Kiss me.” You grumble as he brushes his nose against yours but never meets your mouth.

“I shouldn’t even give you one. Don’t deserve a kiss.” He bites the hinge of your jaw just as you’re about to complain.

“Siri.” You get out, rocking your hips into his as his other hand dips beneath your shirt.

“No you don’t get to decide how tonight’s going poppet,” he kisses just between the valley of your breasts before taking off your shirt. “You could’ve if you’d waited. But you’re just so impatient, just so needy. Just so depraved.” Sirius licks a stripe up your chest on the last word.

Goosebumps immediately erupt on your chest and stomach.

His other hand releases your neck, sitting further back into his spot as you rock your hips faster.

“Please touch me.”

Sirius grins, wicked and impish. “Now you have manners, go figure.” He doesn’t move a hand to help you and in your frustration you bang a fist against his chest.

His grin is gone but you don’t see what takes its place because Sirius has you leaning over the back of the settee and your shorts around your ankles.

“Silly needy thing.” He mutters, the slap he delivers to your bare bottom echoing through your quiet apartment. “Can’t mind your tongue at all can you, poppet?”

He’s goading you now, wanting to see how far you’re willing to go.

“It’s not like you don’t like it.” Your words end in a sharp gasp, your hands clutching the back of the settee tightly.

“Can’t help yourself at all today,” you hear him shuffling behind you, his sweatpants falling around his ankles. You feel the head of his cock and lean forward a little more, a much more severe arch to your back.

“Please don’t tease.”

Sirius snickers, moving his tip between your folds before slipping in and then back out.

“This what you needed?” He asks, wrapping a hand in your hair and pulling so that your chin is tipped upwards.

“Yes yes!” Your words preface him slamming right into you, your nails gripping the sofa as Sirius sets a brutal pace.

“Fucking brat,” he grunts, the hand in your hair wound tight and the one of your waist slips to your thigh and pulls it up.

The angle shift sends him deeper into you and tears spring to your eyes.

“Sirius.” You croak, turning your chin a little to see him but the tears cloud your vision. “Oh god, right there.”

He smirks, leaning down and crowding your space but never pressing his lips to yours.

“Terrible at asking for what you want so you just have to poke and get a rise out of me hm?”

You nod, “You never fuck me like this if I ask.”

Sirius chuckles, nipping at your cheek. “Liar.” His words are punctuated with a sharp thrust and a choking gasp from you.

It doesn’t take long before Sirius has you keening and crying as he fucks you, his hand sneaking from your thigh to your clit and you shake against Sirius’ chest.

“There,” you whine, your hands on his wrist to get him to apply more pressure. “I’m close.”

Sirius does, your back bowing as you come around him. He isn’t far behind you but just as he’s about to reach his own orgasm he pulls out and thick white ropes of him cover your lower back, just above your ass.

You fall into Sirius as he catches his breath, chin resting on his slick chest. “Can I have a kiss now?”

He smiles, pushing back some of the wet strands of hair that have stuck to your face. “Course doll.”

He peppers them all over your cheeks before slotting your lips together, the kiss far more tender than he’d been just a couple seconds earlier.

“C’mon, let’s go get in the shower.” He whispers against your lips, using his discarded shirt to clean up your back.

“Then we can watch Christmas movies?”

Sirius sighs, kissing your forehead. A tinge of guilt piercing his heart. “I’ll be in the room with you but I really do have to finish going through the tactics, poppet.”

You shrug, far more amenable to the idea now. “S’long as we can cuddle.”

“I can do that, baby.”

[tinylilacbun]

tbh I can't think much about cg!drew, but there can be a certain scenario where drew has been busier than usual with filming/press wtv and has been returning home late, and little!reader can't fall asleep without him so he comes back to see r is still awake at 2 in the morning and he's all worried but then r tells him that they just missed drew, and it's all soft and fluffy as he sleeps with r and it's all warm cuddles 🫶🏼🥹

Drew lets out a long exhale the moment he shuts the front door behind him, tiredly kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket he rubs at his temples as he drags himself towards the bedroom.

Looking down at his watch he sighs. 2:12 am. Another long day finally coming to an end.

He had been very busy lately with all the interviews for obx4 and Queer, grateful for every opportunity but he's just relieved to be home now and crawl into bed beside you.

Opening the bedroom door he didn't expect to see you sitting there awake and watching a show on your iPad, dressed in your pajamas and your jellycat bunny tucked under your arm as you suck on your thumb, a habit Drew knows you only do when you're feeling more little like usual.

"Why are you still up, pretty girl?" He asks, making his presence known and smiles at how your face instantly brightens at the sight of him, discarding your iPad and making grabby hands for him.

At your request he gets over to the bed, sitting down on the edge he wraps his arms around you the second you throw yourself onto his body, laying down to be more comfortable with you at his side.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping already, hm?" He questions and you pout, lifting your head from his shoulder. "What's that face for?"

"Missed you..." You admit quietly, toying with one of the buttons on his shirt. "Can't sleep without you..."

His face softens at that, the admission tugging at his heartstrings. It's been hard for both of you to be separated so much and long the last few weeks but Drew tries his best to always take time for you, doesn't mean that you both just can stop longing for each other.

"Oh baby." He smiles softly, lifting his head from the mattress lightly to peck your lips. "You waited just for me?"

You nod, laying your head back down on his shoulder, finally being able to relax now where you're wrapped in his familiar embrace, only now realizing how tired you actually are.

Drew can feel your body sagging against him, starting to rub his hand up and down your back to help you fall asleep faster, kissing the top of your head. "You can sleep now. I'm here, I got you."

You only manage to hum in response, your eyes fluttering shut at his soothing gesture and your hold on his shirt loosening as you drift off into dreamland, muttering softly. "Luv you daddy..."

"I love you more..." He whispers back, closing his eyes as well, still in the clothes he wore all day but too comfortable and tired to care about changing right now.

All he needs is you at the moment.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl

Thought I would tag the Rafe taglist as well:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[hananet11]

Please - A 'When the Phone Rings' fic

Baek Sa Eon basically begging Hong Hui Joo to pay him some attention.

See my previous post about how I sorta want Baek Sa Eon to think Hui Joo is actually on the phone to her lover (maybe seonbae) so we can see him go crazy that someone else got to hear her voice before he did.

I can't help it, here's a drabble more than a fic, more wishful thinking than possibility. I'll chuck it on AO3 and link it on my masterlist as well though it's nothing to what other people have been producing so far.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sa Eon's fingers twitched around his phone. His grip on Hong Hui Joo's shawl tightened as he took in the scene in front of him. Her, precarious and swaying on a bench near the balcony, far from safe. The voice, so recently in his ear, now silent after his rebuke. Her, always her, eyes red and tears fresh, lower lip trembling.

Worst of all, her delicate hand holding a phone, one he didn't recognise (a secret phone?) to her ear. Her mouth. Her voice.

A voice he had never heard until earlier that day, that she had never used with him, that was forced out of her by fear, surely. Here she was, on the phone, speaking. Speaking to someone she didn't want him to know about. A secret phone, a secret call, fresh tears.

His thumb pressed the end call button at the same moment as he took another step towards her. Hong Hui Joo stayed frozen on the bench, watching him approach with a mix of desperation and terror in her eyes. His stride lengthened.

Fear was interesting. She probably didn't realise that in this moment, he was surely the more terrified one. Fear had been crawling over his skin since the moment he saw that picture of her thigh. Had seeped into his bones when he was sent a picture of her precious college seonbae. Fear had its gentle fingers cradling his heart since he met the man, witnessed her smile at him.

It was a different fear than the rage the kidnapper induced in him. That bastard was a psycho, some loser that would be found, dealt with, and out of their lives. He felt sick with fear to think of Hong Hui Joo crying, hurt, or scared for her life. But it wasn't this shameful, jealous fear that burned through him as he walked towards his wife.

His wife. If she had some bastard on that phone that was trying to convince her a divorce was possible, trying to take her away from him, take his wife-

He swallowed and snatched the phone from her hand, snapped it closed, shoved it in his pocket. Her shawl went on the bench, his now empty hands around her waist, clenching hard as he lifted her up and back down, savouring the slide of her body against his and he placed her on her feet.

"You can speak." His voice caught on the first word, cracking like some child. His brow furrowed. His hands, still on her waist, squeezed.

The fear was still there, plain as day in her eyes, taunting him with their sorrow and pain. She stayed silent. Of course she did, it was him that she hid from, he was learning more and more. All these years, he thought he understood her, had learnt her, had felt, selfishly, that he held a corner of her soul within his chest.

Instead, he was realising that what he had thought was an understanding between them was, in fact, a glass wall. All the appearances of normality, but in the end, he couldn't touch her, reach her. Hear her.

Sa Eon's brows twitched again at the thought. No, he was touching her now, she wasn't separated from him by anything, and anything (anyone) that tried to do so? Well, he'd focus on those bastards later, for now-

"Who was on the phone? Your seonbae? He's made you cry after all you said about how good of a person he is?" He winced. "No, wait, just tell me... I saw the video of you in the car. You were on the phone just then; I know you can speak."

Her tears continued down her cheeks, her eyes were wide. Hong Hui Joo had never struggled to let him know exactly what she was thinking. Every raise of her brow, crinkle around her mouth usually told him how frustrating she found him, that she was annoyed, exasperated, or expectant. Now she stared at him in shock, the fear present but dissipating, her lips pouting in confusion, her brows raising, eyes narrowing.

"Please... please let me hear you." His eyes closed and he indulged himself, leaning down, resting his forehead against hers. "Anything. Anything at all. Just let me hear you as well before I find whoever you were just talking to."

His wife jerked in his hands, chin lifting as she leant back, hands coming to his shoulders, probably to push him away. He held on tighter, squeezed his eyes further shut and begged.

"Please. I beg you." She stilled once more in his hold, hands softening and sliding slowly down to his chest. Her breath hitched, her ribs raising beneath his hands, the fabric of her dress catching on his ring.

He had always known that she was his weakness, had admitted as such in front of her only recently. He had thought that she could be used against him easily, but he hadn't realised that the one with the most power over him was actually her. Sa Eon was weak to her. Her whims, her demands, her opinion. Her presence. Begging didn't seem so pathetic when it was Hong Hui Joo.

Hong Hui Joo drew in a shuddering breath, hiccupping over the remnants of tears and upset. Another breath, two more. He dipped his chin, face inches from hers, opened his eyes, begged with them.

"Baek Se Eon."

His whole body shuddered as he felt his name, carried on her breath, against his lips. Her voice was deeper than he had imagined, than it was in the throes of panic. It was stronger, more mature.

He wanted to hear it more.

"Again. Please, again." He trailed his face alongside hers, pulled her closer, rested the bridge of his nose against the crook of her neck. "My name, say my name again, please."

Moments passed, he breathed her in, her hands had been forced back to his shoulders, his neck. His hands slid down her hips, took fistfuls of the looser fabric of her skirt. He took a step forward, backed her into the bench, slid to his knees in front of her.

"Please." It came out broken, shallow, distracted as he drew the sides of her dress up before pulling her down to sit on the edge of the bench. She went easily, eyes now dry and wide and dark. Her hands, which had previously trembled upon his chest, were sure of themselves, resting comfortably on his shoulders, awaiting his next move.

Hong Hui Joo watched him as he kneeled between her thighs, slowly drawing her skirts up and up, repeating the actions that had burned between them so recently. Her dress reached her mid-thigh when her eyes widened, and she realised what he was doing. By then it was too late, and Sa Eon lowered his head to her leg and, spotting the mole that had been tormenting him every minute since he learnt of its existence, he looked up briefly at Hui Joo, breathed a single word, and then kissed the skin next to it with a force designed to bruise.

"Please."

He moved onto the next patch of pale skin, kissed it gently, bit down, sucked a mark into it. A sound escaped Hong Hui Joo above him. He glanced up at her moan, saw her dark eyes and red cheeks.

He saw her lick her lips, and he bit down harder.

"Ah! Baek Sa Eon!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay yeah, so don't know what this is, but here we go. Hopefully someone enjoys it, wants more and writes their own so I can read it. Pleaseeeeee.

Thank you to @vamosleomessi who replied to my earlier post and seemed as desperate for this premise to be explored as I was.

[ghostgirl-22]

I’m already 100% sure I won’t keep up with all of these but let’s start anyway! Happy December!

Day 1: Undressing

CW: 18+ !NSFW!

Pair: Artashrick (where Art wears a lacy red corset and everybody cheered)

POV!Patrick

——

Patrick joins Tashi and Art at the Christmas fundraiser at Lily’s school. It’s adults only, a whole black tie affair in some expensive hall in New York City. They’re dressed up all gorgeous when Patrick arrives. Art’s in the typical suit and tie. He’s playing with his cuff links all night. Skin a little flushed, probably because of the spiked eggnog. Tashi’s dressed up in red. This fucking barely there, skin tight, slip dress. Fabric so soft it feels like butter. Patrick knows because he’s touched it quite a few times under the banquet table.

Patrick’s not the only one who’s been watching her all night. Wanting her. Watching as it pours over her body, shimmers while she moves. All the husbands are trying (and failing) not to stare.

They’re trying to raise money for all the upcoming events so they hold an auction, tennis lessons with Tashi Donaldson. Art promises to be there for a lesson or two… just to up the price but it sells for more than enough when half of the single dads and teachers fight to outbid each other as she stands on stage trying and failing to look anything less than stunning.

The moms are no better. Art’s one of the more famous dads, possibly the most famous at their school, and the wives are constantly in his face, flirting, asking about tennis. Asking if he would be interested in participating in this year's Santa strip tease?

All for charity of course.

He says no over and over, and Patrick starts to feel bad because he’s getting all warm and anxious from the attention. At least that’s what Patrick thinks. During one of the many faculty performances, Patrick notices Art is sitting on his chair squirming and Tashi’s rubbing his thigh, lightly. Patrick catches his eye and he bites his lip, getting up from the chair. Patrick is curious so he follows him to the bathroom.

“You feel sick?” Patrick asks, gently but he doesn’t look sick. No Patrick recognizes that look. Knows it so fucking well. He doesn’t wait for Art to respond, just grabs him and presses him up against the sink. Art moans, looking back at Patrick in the mirror, wiggling his hips along Patrick’s crotch.

“I can’t fucking do it, I need to go home and take it off,” Art whines.

“Take what off?” Patrick asks, he pulls at the tie loosening it. His mind is going to crazy places, imagining that Tashi put him in a cock ring. Or maybe shoved anal beads inside him.

“I’m not supposed to tell you but she wants me to wear it all night,” Art says quietly.

The bathroom door opens suddenly and Patrick takes only the slightest step back. A man walks in and nods at them, smiling at Art but also looking mildly curious. Luckily he heads over to the urinal without making it weird. Art leaves the bathroom and Patrick adjusts himself and then follows.

“What’s going on with him?” He asks Tashi when he gets back in the banquet hall.

”Nothing,” she smiles and shrugs her shoulders. “Just a little surprise. You’ll see.”

For the rest of the night Patrick’s loses focus. All he wants is to take them home. Get them undressed. Figure out what the surprise is.

It’s late by the time they get in and he’s still wired on spiked egg nog, dancing, and silly Christmas games. He knows Lily is at a sleepover. That he can stay over all night. But he’s still so impatient he cant even wait for the bedroom. He starts grabbing at Art’s waist as soon as he gets his coat off.

He can feel something stiff on Art’s waist and he starts undoing the buttons on his shirt. Pulling at them when he gets a peek at the red lacy corset.

“Oh…” Patrick says. Something breaking inside him. “Oh fuck.”

“Do you like it?” Tashi giggles.

Art is flushed pink. “Laugh it up, Patrick. Ha ha ha,” he says weakly.

“More like ho ho ho,” Tashi smirks, she stands next to Patrick and grabs at Art’s pants, undoing the zipper. He’s wearing matching red panties, barely holding his fully erect cock and balls in and there’s a garter belt… holding up sheer red lace thigh high tights.

“You did so good, baby.” she says softly, reaching in to rub his leaking cock and then tasting her fingertips after.

Art lets out a strangled moan, and starts pawing at her dress.

“Wait, let him look at you,” Tashi says, softly, steadying him.

Patrick is reeling, Art was in this all night. All fucking night and Patrick had no idea, he thinks he might pass out. “Fuck,” he whispers, as he reaches out a shaky hand and palms at Art’s cock. He's so warm and full and he instinctively starts thrusting himself along Patrick’s palm, eyes closed, so needy. “Fuck,” Patrick whispers again.

“Right?” Tashi says, “I picked it out myself. But we had trouble getting on, huh?” She says gazing at Art, brushing the hair back from his forehead. “He couldn’t keep it soft, the lace was driving him crazy. So we had to fuck a few times just to calm him down. He almost messed up my dress.”

“God what a fucking slut,” Patrick whispers softly.

“I know. Such a horny little slut,” Tashi giggles. “Can’t even wear panties without needing to be fucked.”

“’m not a slut,” Art whines, he leans back and forth on his bare feet, letting the dress pants fall to the floor before stepping fully out of them. The lace panties riding up showing off his ass. He starts to pull at the corset like he wants to get it off.

“Oh no…sweetheart, just wait a minute.” Patrick says, breathlessly stopping his movements. “We’re gonna have to take that off nice and slowly, okay?”

Part 2

[fizzybin]

I love my desire

⛧°。 ��༺𐕣 𖤐 𐕣༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺𐕣 𖤐 𐕣༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺𐕣 𖤐 𐕣༻⋆。 Paring | Mommy!hwa x fem!reader Word count | 741 Tw | Knife play, dom/sub dynamics, degradation mixed with praise, panty gagging, light bondage, cum eating (??)

Rating | R Song rec | Candle - 24 flakko ft. BLOO (one of my fav songs and wrote this vibin' to it) ⛧°。 ⋆༺𐕣 𖤐 𐕣༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺𐕣 𖤐 𐕣༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺𐕣 𖤐 𐕣༻⋆。

Seonghwa's lips curve into a devious smile as he looms over you, your wrists restrained by silk ties and your mouth stuffed with your own panties, now stained with his essence. In one hand, he holds a cold, gleaming steel knife, the sharp tip glinting in the dim light of the room. "Look at you," he taunts, "so adorably helpless."

A low whimper escapes your throat as you try to shift your hips, desperate for any kind of friction between your drenched thighs.

Seonghwa's smirk only grows wider as he watches you squirm, savoring the sight of your flushed cheeks and writhing body under his control. The room is thick with tension and anticipation as he decides how to continue, relishing in the power he holds over you.

Your body trembles with anticipation as he runs the sharp blade of the knife along your inner thigh, teasingly close to your most sensitive areas. Your breath hitches in your throat as you try to contain your desire. "Mmmm, look how desperate you are for more already," he taunts with a devilish grin. "Tell me baby, what do you need?" His voice is a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. "Use your words like a good girl," he adds, his eyes dark with desire. You struggle to form coherent thoughts as you beg for more.

His rough hand reaches out, fingers eagerly grasping at your breast. He pinches and tugs at your nipple, inflicting a mix of pain and pleasure. "Beg for it," his voice taunts, "and maybe Mommy will give you what you crave so desperately." The cold metal of the knife presses harder against your skin, leaving an icy trail in its wake. "Oh wait," he taunts, "you can't speak, can you? Dirty little thing you are"

You let out muffled moans, the fabric stuffed in your mouth muffling the sound. Your back arches, pushing your chest further into Seonghwa's groping hand. Your hips involuntarily buck, seeking more stimulation from the knife teasing your inner thigh. Drool escapes the corner of your lips as you try desperately to form words, but only garbled pleas emerge. The taste of salt coats your tongue as tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes - you're aching to beg properly but physically unable with your mouth filled. Instead, you gaze up at him with hooded, lust-filled eyes, silently pleading for mercy even as your body writhes shamelessly in need. The degrading pet names and rough treatment only heighten your arousal, sending shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Every touch, every word, every sensation sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, making it hard to focus on anything but the overwhelming need.

He lets out a sinister chuckle at your muted screams and frenzied squirming, clearly enjoying the control he holds over you in this moment. "Aww, what's wrong babygirl? Can't tell Mommy what you need?"

He leans in closer, his warm breath caressing your ear as he speaks in a low voice.

"I think you need to be punished for being such a dirty, knife-hungry slut. Making such a mess all over yourself like this…"

The knife traces higher, grazing over your sex teasingly. Your hips instinctively arch towards it, desperate for any kind of contact. Seonghwa smirks down at you, watching your reactions with dark amusement. He knows exactly how to push your buttons and make you beg for more without you speaking a word.

"Do you want it?" he asks, holding the knife dangerously close to your throbbing core. "Do you want me to use this on you?"

You nod frantically, unable to form words as your body screams for more.

Seonghwa's low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine as he brings the flat of the blade to your clit, pressing down with controlled force. Your body arches instinctively at the sensation, but before you can fully react, his free hand wraps around your throat. The pressure against your windpipe and the sharp edge of the knife against your sensitive flesh forces a muffled moan pass your lips. You can feel his hot breath against Your neck as he leans in closer, lips ghosting across your ear as he continues to toy you.

"Maybe if you're a very good girl and take what I give you I'll let you use your mouth again. Would you like that, my filthy little fucktoy?"

⛧°。 ⋆༺𐕣 𖤐 𐕣༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺𐕣 𖤐 𐕣༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺𐕣 𖤐 𐕣༻⋆。