#my favorite thing to do when i go out back with the dogs is to watch the anoles

[mamaguroheartstoji]

wrapped in sunlight, wrapped in you ☀️

summary: on a crisp winter afternoon, toji surprises you with a picnic by the lake, complete with warm sunlight, soft banter, and stolen kisses. as the breeze grows cooler, his arms grow warmer, and what starts as playful teasing turns into a tender moment wrapped in quiet affection.

genre: fluff, slice of life, romance

toji wasn’t one for typical romantic gestures, so when he appeared in your doorway holding a picnic basket and a folded blanket, you were understandably suspicious.

“did you get possessed by a rom-com protagonist?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe with an amused grin.

he rolled his eyes, pushing past you like he owned the place. “shut up and put on something warm. you’re always whining about how cold you get.”

“and where are we going exactly?”

“out,” he said simply, setting the basket down on your counter.

you stared at him, trying to decipher his tone. “out where?”

he turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “does it matter? i’m taking you somewhere nice. stop asking questions before i change my mind.”

that earned a laugh out of you, and you grabbed your jacket, deciding to go along with it. “you’re lucky i’m curious.”

“you’re lucky i like you enough to put up with your attitude,” he shot back, smirking.

the drive was quiet but comfortable, with toji’s hand resting on the gear shift. occasionally, he’d glance at you, his lips quirking when you caught him.

“you’re staring again,” you said, breaking the silence.

“just trying to figure out why i’m doing this for you,” he replied, though the way his eyes softened gave him away.

“because i’m cute,” you said confidently, earning a snort from him.

“you’re a pain in the ass,” he muttered, but his hand shifted to rest on your knee, squeezing lightly.

when you arrived at the park, the winter sun was shining brightly, casting a golden glow over the bare trees and the quiet lake nearby. it was the kind of day that made winter feel less harsh and more magical.

“you picked this spot?” you asked, surprised as he carried the basket and blanket to a sunny patch near the water.

“don’t make it a big deal,” he said, setting everything down. “you’re always talking about fresh air and sunlight. figured i’d shut you up for a day.”

“aw, toji, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you teased, grinning as you spread the blanket.

“keep it up and i’ll eat all the food myself,” he warned, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

the basket was simple but thoughtful: sandwiches wrapped neatly, a container of cut-up fruit, pastries that looked like they came from your favorite bakery, and a thermos filled with something steaming.

“you really outdid yourself,” you said, looking at him in mock awe.

“don’t act so surprised,” he replied, sitting down with a huff. “i’m good at everything i do.”

“everything?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

he smirked, leaning in slightly. “you wanna test that theory later?”

your cheeks went warm, and you swatted his arm. “toji!”

he just laughed, pleased with himself, and unwrapped a sandwich.

as you ate, a small dog wandered up to your blanket, its tail wagging furiously.

“look at this little guy!” you said, holding out a hand for the dog to sniff.

toji eyed it warily. “great. freeloaders.”

“he’s cute!” you said, scratching the dog behind the ears. “he just wants to be friends.”

“or he wants food,” toji said, but he still broke off a piece of his sandwich and handed it to the dog, who took it eagerly.

“aw, look at you, mr. softie,” you teased, grinning.

he gave you a deadpan look. “don’t push it.”

the dog eventually curled up at the edge of your blanket, and toji leaned back on his hands, watching the lake. the sunlight caught in his dark hair, and for a moment, you forgot about the teasing.

“you’re staring again,” he said, not even looking at you.

“just trying to figure out why i like you,” you shot back, though the warmth in your voice gave you away.

“because i’m hot,” he replied easily, smirking when you rolled your eyes.

“so modest,” you said, leaning back beside him.

he glanced down at you, his smirk softening into something gentler. “you don’t mind, do you?”

“mind what?”

“this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the blanket, the basket, the moment. “the whole… picnic thing.”

“toji,” you said, leaning closer, “i love this. it’s perfect.”

he grunted, but his hand found yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

as the afternoon went on, a breeze picked up, and you shivered despite the sunlight. toji noticed immediately, tugging you closer until you were practically in his lap.

“come here,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “can’t have you freezing to death.”

“you’re just using me for warmth,” you said, but you nestled against him anyway.

“damn right,” he muttered, resting his chin on your head.

you tilted your head back to look up at him, grinning. “you’re so obvious.”

he smirked down at you, his eyes glinting with amusement. “yeah? you’re lucky i like you.”

you laughed, but your cheeks were warm again, and when he leaned down to kiss you, you didn’t stop him. it was soft, slow, and it made your heart flutter in a way that still surprised you.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “you’re cute when you blush,” he said, his voice low.

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, though you couldn’t stop smiling.

“you love it,” he replied, smirking.

“unfortunately,” you said, earning a chuckle from him.

as the sun began to set, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you stayed there in his arms, feeling like the world outside your little blanket didn’t exist.

“so,” you said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. “does this mean i can drag you on more picnics?”

he groaned dramatically. “don’t push your luck.”

but the way he held you tighter told you everything you needed to know.

[fleetingtemper]

jjk men as your neighbor

something calm and fluff since im moving back into my dorms tomorrow :3 a bit sick rn so this might b me projecting enjoy !!! gn! reader but can b read any way :333 sorry choso might be short whoops

GOJO SATORU

gojo is ectastic at your move in. the very first thing he does is saunter up to you and offer to help you move heavy boxes into your new apartment. he introduces himself as gojo satoru, a professor at the local university. you’re instantly captivated by his almost frighteningly blue eyes framed by long, white eyelashes.

“a pretty person such as yourself shouldn’t have to do anything by themselves,” and next thing you know it, all of the boxes were swiftly moved into the apartment. “thank you so much! i really don’t know how i can thank you gojo,” you bashfully smile at him. gojo leans in and you’re hit with the scent of expensive cologne. the man was staggeringly tall, towering over you with a charming smile. you can see in the way he moves the areas his shirt squeezes. suddenly, you feel flustered by his proximity.

“then, dinner here at 7?” he flashes a cheeky grin.

a strange feeling develops in your stomach and you almost lose the proper words. he looks expectantly at you, almost like a dog and you have to bite back a giddy smile. you finally muster up the courage and tilt your head up towards him. “yeah, sounds good.”

“great. it’s a date then.”

since then, you and gojo have developed a tradition of dinner at each other’s apartment every friday night. tonight was at gojo’s place where he’s cooked up your favorite. surprisingly, the two of you quickly became close.

he tells you stories of his rambunctious students but you can tell by the way that his eyes light up when he speaks of them that he truly loves them dearly. his slender fingers drum any surface when he feels anxious and he indulges in tons of sweets when he’s stressed. you’ve learned about his best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years and his estranged family and you’d say that he knows you rather well too.

your friends back home tease you about your bond, joking that instead of going clubbing on a friday night, you have dinner dates with your wildly attractive neighbor. while you admit that he was frustratingly handsome, you insist it’s strictly platonic. he was way out of your league.

“(y/n), check out this new wine my coworker got me,” he calls from the kitchen. the bottle is some vintage french brand that you assume was a gift from someone way out of your tax bracket. you’re sure that the bottle alone was worth more than your monthly rent. “someone has admirers,” you tease. he only shrugs as he pours two glasses. “just a coworker.”

“just a coworker? you sure about that?” you raise an eyebrow at him. “sounds more like you’ve got some romantic prospects.” you swirl the wine absentmindedly as you think to yourself., what kind of person does he like? tall or short? (e/c)? (h/c)? you stop yourself, shaking the thoughts of your head. why were you wondering if he’d like people with your hair color?

he let out a dry laugh. “nah. i don’t really care for any of them.” he sits down next to you at the counter, sipping at the glass. you notice the way the wine stains his lips and you find yourself staring, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. just the sight of you makes him feel crazy, he thinks. he quickly downs the glass before getting started on another.

you smell especially good today. you must’ve showered before the dinner, he observes. the way you always dress up a bit for your cherished dinner together and how you seem to bounce in anticipation for tonight when he reminds you of the dinner in the morning. all of these things gojo has noticed about you makes his heart beat just a little faster. next thing he knows it, he’s already finished the previous glass, onto his third. before he can stop himself, the words slip out.

“i actually like someone already.” you snap out of your thoughts, eyes locking with his. then, you notice the flushed red of his cheeks and ears. and that look in his eyes.

you realize he’s drunk, and that he had been staring at you for quite a while. you swallow hard. “satoru?” you struggle to speak. you’re overwhelmed by his glossy eyes staring at your plump lips and the smell of him that you’ve come to adore makes you feel dizzy. the wine must be getting to you.

“(y/n)…” he practically whines. suddenly, his lanky arms are around you, the whole weight of his body against you. your back is pressed to the counter and you feel your heart about to thump out of your chest.

compliments here and there, satoru always going out of his way to hang out with you when he wasn’t working, you knew what he was doing. and you were sure he was aware of the things you did for him as well. for more casual hangouts, you had a mug at his place and for him, likewise. your signature scent was picked out by him on a holiday outing, just the two of you.

with all of your strength, you pulled gojo towards the couch, where he proceeded to slump against you again. his whole body felt warm and like he was on cloud 9. he could’ve sworn it was you who was now enveloping him with warmth. what a sweet dream, he sighs into slumber.

GETO SUGURU

geto is the perfect gentleman. and unfortunately, he was also a workaholic that happened to forget to eat several days a week. the two of you become close from you one day shyly dropping off containers of leftover food, and you insisting that you made too much. from behind the door, peeped two heads. two little girls looked up to you and at the sight of food in hand, you saw their eyes light up. this becomes a regular occurrence, always ending with him giving you a soft smile and thanking you and the girls hugging you and insisting you come in and play with them.

besides you really always making too much food, you had a huge crush on your neighbor. he was a single, working dad who went above and beyond for his daughters mímiko and nanako, who you’ve come to love to smithereens. at the end of your “play dates”, you’d always leave with drawings made by the girls or some trinket they made for you at school. eventually, you become close enough with geto that you two exchange spare keys.

this comes in handy when one day, you fall ill.

you have no idea how you got sick but one day, you wake up with a throbbing headache and a hellfire level fever. your throat feels drier than a drought and you’re convinced that any words you attempt to speak might turn your vocal cords to dust. you try to make it to the kitchen but you hardly make it very far before collapsing on the couch. ah fuck. you don’t remember the cheap couch being as comfortable as it did right now. this might just be my deathbed, you think deliriously.

several hours pass as you remain slumped on the couch before the door unlocks with a click, with geto and the girls coming in and calling your name. you missed the play date.

“(y/n)!” mimiko scurries over to your side where to a little girl, you looked good as dead. geto rushes to you with nanako behind him and feels for your pulse. thank god, you’re alive. he feels your head and instantly pulls his hand back. “mimiko, nanako. they’re okay, just really sick right now.” he assures the sniffling girls. “will you be dears and get cold towels? you know where they are.”

the girls who have slept over several times by now hurriedly grab towels soaked in a bowl of icy cold water. geto acts swiftly, wringing the water and pressing a towel to your forehead. you stir from the sudden coldness on your skin. you groggily open your eyes and nearly have a heart attack at the sight of your crush leaning over your face and the girls on either side of you. “suguru?! mimiko? nanako??” you rasp out before coughing. “ohmygoshimsosorryholycrapilooksouglyinfrontofmycrushandhiskidsimsososorry” you blurt out.

he presses a finger to your lip, making your heart race even faster. “don’t worry about it. we’ll take care of you.” he gives you a closed eye smile and you’re hit again with exhaustion, falling back into feverish sleep. he smiles to himself before getting to work around the house.

he fires up your stove and cooks up your favorite porridge for when you’re ready to eat. he makes sure its chock full of nutrients and makes no effort to hide the abundance of vegetables, regardless of if you like them or not. while it cooks, he immediately tackles any possible causes for your sickness. geto closes any and all windows, dusts to the high heavens, and wipes down every surface possible.

he tsks at the heaps of laundry before throwing them in the machines and tidying up your living space. he doesn’t fail to notice all the things you’ve received from his daughters, the only things neatly kept in your room. a warm feeling settles in his chest and makes a mental note of yet another thing about you he has come to love.

mimiko and nanako play with your hair and undo any knots from your sleep and per geto’s instruction, do it as gently as possible. they’ve come to adore you just as much as their father has, which did not go unnoticed by them. their father was someone who did not allow people to come into his life easily and rarely trusted anyone beyond their uncle, who for some reason, hadn’t come by for a while.

the two girls exchange knowing looks watching their father work all over the apartment effectively and efficiently.

they were aware of how he forgot to take care of himself for a while, but after you came into their lives, he ate more and slept better. they spent less and less time home alone when geto was at work and they knew how grateful he was for that. so for his sake and yours, mimiko and nanako handled you with adoring gentleness.

after all, knowing now that you’ve come to love geto as much as he did you, they were happy to do this for you.

you slept with the sweetest dreams and your body came back back down to a comfortable warmth.

CHOSO KAMO

when you first moved in, you were warned by your landlord that you’d have quite the eccentric for a neighbor. what you didn’t expect, was to hear expletives begin at night with the occasional crash. the thin walls between you two did not help. after a few restless nights, you had it with your lousy neighbor.

mustering up courage, you knock sharply on the door next to yours. you fidget and start to regret knocking. before you could run back to your apartment, the door swings open.

your breath catches in your throat as your eyes meet a solid chest, and as your eyes trail upwards, you’re stunned by the man in front of you. dark eyes peer down at you through deep eye circles behind two messy buns. he was hot. “hi…” you barely croak out. “yes?” you’re surprised by his soft voice, a sharp contrast to his stature.

finally, you speak up. “um… i can kinda hear you at night? i’m sorry to bother you!” you feel your face growing warmer by the minute. to your surprise, your neighbor blushes instantly. “i’m so sorry! i’m a streamer and i get worked up sometimes… i’m so sorry though!” he began to ramble. oh god.

“no, no! it’s totally fine!” you shook your head as you watched the tall man become a flustered mess.

he bowed his head in shame, “i just ordered some sound proofing tech so i promise it won’t bother you soon!”

you cleared your throat, “it’s okay, really! besides,” you smile.

“you can make it up to me.”

he chokes out before coughing into his hand, hiding a creeping blush on his face. “yea… i would like that…” he mumbles behind his hands.

your friendship with choso blossoms quickly. you two realize you shared a mutual interest in cookie run: kingdom and began playing together.

“cho~, what toppings should i put on mystic flour cookie?” you whine in frustration. he peered up from his ipad before looking over at your current build. “searing raspberry? seriously? you should optimize swift chocolate, dummy.” he tsk’d before taking over your ipad. you watched as he played games with a childish glee and yet, swore like a sailor when streaming.

“(y/n), my fans wanna see us play minecraft,” he looked at you with pleading puppy eyes. “fine, but i want operator” you stick your tongue out.

you two sat in front of the camera, playing while simultaneously reading the chat.

chososgf: i love you choso !!!

kkimbap1: (y/n) vs choso 1v1 when ^_^

the_strongest: ygs r so cute lol

choso read the latest comment out loud before smiling at the camera. “thank you!”

you felt your stomach flip at his blatant ignorance of the comment’s implications. but you didn’t really mind if he didn’t correct them.

[gunilslaugh]

hi hii ! how about a fic painting joo or junhan’s nails ? i think it would be so cute ><

Hello Helloo! Here's your request I hope you like it!

Lee Jooyeon Summary: Painting Jooyeon’s nails. (idol/non-idol au) WC:476 Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Originally you brought up painting Jooyeon’s nails as a joke, however Jooyeon was actually quite fond of the idea. That’s how you found yourselves seated on the floor of your bedroom. A bottle of dark blue nail polish opened, its scent slowly filling the room the longer you had it open. 

“Jooyeon stop moving I’m gonna mess up,” you lightly scolded him, holding his hand a bit firmer. 

“I can’t help it,” he excuses, pouting a little. “I forgot how time consuming painting nails can be.” 

“Just let me finish this hand then we can take a break before doing your other hand,” you tell him. He lets out a small hum and leans to prop his head up on his free hand. He takes this time to just watch you as you work. A smile etched its way onto his face as your brows knit together in concentration. He likes how your hold on his finger is gentle yet firm. 

“There now we can take a small break,” you say, capping the nail polish bottle. 

“Ah freedom,” Jooyeon jokes, falling backwards to lay on his back. 

“Be careful it’s still drying,” you remind him.

“I know. I won’t ruin your beautiful work,” he said, lifting his hand to admire your work. You chuckle, coming to lay on your back beside him.

“It’s not that good. Nothing special,” you voice. 

“It is special…because you did it.” He turns his head to look at you cheekily. 

“Whatever” you say playfully knocking him with your elbow.

After a few minutes of resting on your backs and staring at the ceiling you two resume the task of painting his nails. Gingerly taking his hand in your hold as you carefully apply the dark blue polish to his nails.

Jooyeon once more takes this time to simply admire you. When a few strands of your hair fall stray he doesn’t even think before leaning in and tucking the hair back behind your ear. 

“Thanks,” you tell him, staying focused on his nail. 

“Sure thing,” he smiled at you even though you didn't notice.

“There we go all done,” you smile triumphantly as you screw the cap back on the bottle. “Please don’t chip them on the first day,” you say half-jokingly. 

“I’ll do my very best,” he promises you. Jooyeon looks down at all ten of his fingers now decorated with the reflectant dark blue. He thinks that these are his favorite nails that he has had (and yes it’s because you painted them). 

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

“So my turn now?” he asked you with a certain glint in his eyes. You look at the bottle in his hands then down at your own nails. 

“I don’t know about that,” you said nervously. 

“Come on please?” he begged, giving you his puppy dog eyes. 

“Fine,” you sigh, sticking out your hand to him. 

A/N: At the end of my Hyeongjun fic Rockstar Boy there is a scene where the reader kinda paints his nails, so you can read that if you like :)

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143 @seungseung-minmin @junhanism

comment or message me to be added!

[the-moon-files]

As I work on my college assignments that I have missed due to being sick I can't help but think *damn* I would absolutely hate being transported to another world due to all my responsibilities. Like, even if it was that zero time occurring between getting back home I wouldn't want that, because fuck what if time did pass? What if I got fired from my job or missed on rent and all my stuff got thrown out of my apartment?? I love the idea of being away from my responsibilities but I hate having to go back to more and more things I have to more things I have to make up or have just missed.

Anyway, my brain suddenly attached this to a reader who got stuck in the linked universe. The emotions they would go through because their mind isn't stuck on the past or present but in the future. What if they had pets? Who'd take care of them? How would they pay their bills if they got stuck in an alternate universe? It's a sudden absence of these things that really trip them up because they had so much to do and now it's all gone. They can actually live now. But also they weren't built to live life outside of the weird society we have. How can they learn to live if the way they'd been living was nothing but a mental ladder to keep up with. How can they keep going knowing that back home there are important events and people and animals that they are missing out on.

-✒️ (Sorry for the long ask I'm an a very existential mood rn)

Sorry this is such a late reply!! I've had a "fanfic author curse" kinda year tbh, so I'm just now getting back into my hobbies :/

(i just got so burnt out by life i wasn't even in the mood to play the video games, let alone touch my blogs/write for them :( which is sad bc i love talking to you guys /gen)

So, I hope this late response is okay, and college and things these days are going better for you anon!!

_

BRO RLLY DROPPED MY WORST FEARS IN MY MAIL BOX ON A GODDAMN?? WEDNESDAY EVENING??? 😭😭 /LH

NO but SERIOUSLY this is genuinely a fear ive had in realistic isekai scenario situations,

So for like a year, maybe 2 now? Ive been obsessively consuming "isekai/reincarnation/transmigration anime" or this trope that somehow someway a character is misplaced from their original timeline, maybe just mysteriously yoinked/died/possessed another body in a diff universe, whatever, either way theyre There now, in a diff universe. And animes consistently gloss over this transitional period, that i can see real ppl actually having, to just sort of accept and move on, of course yo get the plot rolling.

But i guess theres just not quite enough sort of nitty-gritty isekai content yet for anyone to get have finally made an isekai genre thing that really goes on the other side of the spectrum, where the MC is like, well, THIS^^^

Like unless ur actually a hermit, youve either pushed away all ur family anf friends or theyve passed away, and you dont have a pet, pr whatever/whoever else,

ive learned after sort of coming out of teen years/rlly long depressive episodes that, Someone will always notice you. Theyll notice youre gone, and theyll miss you.

Like ppl hit u with that angsty, "nobody cares abt me" and then when u realistically sit them down like, "okay. What about your favorite teacher? What about your best friend? What about your online friends who will never see you log on again? What about your dog?"

Like yeah, who will take care of your dog?? Becaue where im at in life, if my sibling dies, ive got no one to care about my old girl, my kitty Mia <3 whos loved me since i was 12 😭

So, ive been actually wanting to fill in somewhat this gap in isekai genre by sort of expanding on it, i mean to be honest fanfiction is the only media ive seen thats gotten close to tackling this, with any amount of realism/emotional depth it deserves.

i hope u found this any amount of satisfying response, i probably would take this is in either a complete horror fashion/tragic scenario (which i don't write that often tbh) or a sort of "angst with a happy ending" like MC/reader worrying freaking out abt homeworld but there's a portal to let you go between worlds or smth

Peace out ✒️,

🌙📁

(i found a file emoji - how do we feel abt it??)

[ladynyoko]

Jonah's Enucleation

So this is going to be a long post. I apologize for that in advance. I've been sort of blowing up @talesfromtreatment's ask box since Sunday morning going through a hell of a rollercoaster with my dog. (Again, sorry about that. Not sure if you read any of it, but if you haven't feel free to delete those messages and just read this post instead if you want to know what I've been using your ask box as a sounding board about for the last 48-ish hours.)

This all starts Saturday.

We have a Beagle/Jack Russell mix. His name is Jonah. He's around 8-ish years old and, tragically, a beagle with all that entails. He's a good dog - but he's got loud opinions and can't help himself around food or cat toys. He wears sweaters in the winter when it's cold. He has a favorite blanket. He's overweight but we've been working on it.

Saturday morning, when we woke up, everything was normal. As the day went on, he started acting like he does on his bad pain days. He's had Lyme in the past and while he tests negative now, he has what I can only describe as flare ups. He'll get listless, go off his food, and just be miserable for a day before he perks up and is just fine the next day. We have prescription painkillers for if a flare up lasts particularly long or he's really uncomfortable. But this looked like a mild one, all things considered.

Saturday evening, when I let him out for the night, I noticed a little bit of odd behavior. He walked straight into the screen door on his way back in. "Huh, that's odd." I thought. But it was dark out, and the screen door was in a different spot than usual because of some ground shifting after our recent cold snap - I wasn't able to open it all the way like I usually do. He didn't seem to find his treat as quickly as usual either. But I figured, he's getting older. Maybe his vision's going a little. He already has his annual scheduled in March - I'll bring it up with his vet then.

I didn't get a chance.

Sunday morning, when we woke up, he was blind. In the short span of 24 hours, he'd completely lost his vision.

We knew something was wrong. We checked the hours for our local animal urgent care, and resolved to take him in the second they opened.

And once they had, we loaded him and his favorite blanket up in the car, and drove straight there. There was another emergency ahead of us. The clinic was busy. Not surprising - it was the only place within an hour's drive that was open today. Everyone with an urgent problem would be going there today. Still, we weren't waiting very long before they brought us back to one of their two exam rooms and started intake.

We didn't wait long for the vet either.

It's a vet we know. She's saved our cat's life before. (Some of you may remember Lily, if you've been following me for a long time. We had to do signal boost fundraising for her years back after a near death experience.) We trust her implicitly. She looks over Jonah and confirms our suspicions. He's completely blind. But why he's suddenly gone blind is what we're there to find out.

After examining him, she suspects glaucoma. It wasn't something I even knew dogs could get. On the way there, I'd been running through the worst fears I could think of. Had his thyroid medication tipped him the other way into hyperthyroidism? Had we missed diabetes? Was it a brain tumor?

We were prepared for a lot of things. Glaucoma sounded easy! My mom has borderline glaucoma! Just eye drops to control his pressure and keep up with his annuals, and he'll be fine, right?

So back to the waiting room we went while they started his tests. We requested a comprehensive blood panel to rule out any other possibilities, which the vet agreed to do in addition to his eye pressure check and a test to check his moisture levels in his eyes as well.

We wait for a bit, they bring him back out, and we get his test results. Blood panel looks good. Eyes are a tiny bit on the dry end of normal range. But his eye pressure is through the roof. Glaucoma confirmed. No big! We just need to get his eye pressure down and then we can get him on maintenance drops and follow up with our regular vet.

Except that isn't how it happens.

He gets his first round of drops. We wait thirty minutes. He gets a second round, because his pressure was really high, another thirty minutes. They retest. The pressure in his right eye is down. But his left eye has continued to climb. We do another couple rounds of drops. Another retest. His right eye has stabilized. His left eye has not. They give him a narcotic for the pain. We try another medication - one that the vet didn't want to use because it's extremely uncomfortable for the dogs but at this point we need to get this under control. Drops every fifteen minutes. Waiting. Agonizing. We talk about next steps. The vet consults with a specialist in a larger city. Jonah has calmed thanks to the narcotic and is laying on his blanket on the floor of the waiting room.

After nearly six hours at animal urgent care, the pressure in his right eye finally comes down. It's still high, but the vet doesn't want to keep him any longer. We're discharged with a steroid to control the inflammation and hopefully manage the pain, an antibiotic because we just spent nearly six hours fussing with his eyes and don't want them infected, and the drops to control his eye pressure. We're given strict instructions to follow up with our regular vet the next day and have his pressure retested as soon as we're able.

Exhausted, we bring our extremely drugged dog home. He pees in the front yard and spends the rest of the evening on his blanket on the couch. I give him his first dose of medication without incident. Then his second. Mom goes to bed. I promise to wake her if I need help giving him his third dose.

He sleeps on the couch. Our cat joined him at some point between his third dose and the time I came up for his fourth. His narcotics are starting to wear off now. He cries when I go to gently pull his eyelid back to medicate his left eye. His eye looks worse. He's in pain. I feel bad but I know I have to do this and thankfully I manage on my own. He settles down and I go to bed, resolved to wake in four short hours for his next dose.

The next morning I wake up for his next dose of meds. Pressure drops then steroids. His eye hasn't improved. I start to worry. I'm afraid of what we'll find when we drop him off at the vet. Has his left eye continued to trend downwards or has it shot back up? We won't know until he gets tested. Our other dog has a grooming appointment. Mom leaves to take him to that. I stay home with Jonah. I call our vet and let them know what's going on. Ask if we can drop him off. The tech tells me the vet won't be in for another hour and she'll call me back as soon as she's talked to them.

I lay down on the couch with Jonah and try to get a little more sleep. I wake up in an hours - he needs his antibiotic now. The vet calls and agrees to a drop off appointment. I drive him in with his blanket, all his medications, and the meal he hadn't eaten that morning. I let them know everything that's happened in the last 24 hours. He hasn't eaten or drank anything since the previous morning. I worry.

Mom gets home with our freshly groomed other dog. We talk about what we're going to do. We've stretch our budget thin paying for his urgent care visit the previous day. We know the next step is to remove the eye that we can't get under control - a $2,000-$3,000 surgery. Way out of our budget. But we don't want him to be in pain. We resolve that if his pressure has gone up again, we'll have him put to sleep rather than have him suffer any longer.

The waiting game starts again. A few hours later, we get the call. The vet retested his eyes three times. The right has completely stabilized. The left has shot up again. We're devastated. We know what's best for him. What has to be done. We let the vet know, and schedule to come to the office in three hours to see him across the rainbow bridge, after we've had time to inform His Boy who now lives two hours away with a family of his own.

We're all emotionally drained by this point. We've cried off and on. It's hard to talk about it without crying. The urgent care vet calls us to see how he's doing and we tell her the bad news.

Monday afternoon, we drive to the vet's office. We try not to break down into tears in the waiting room, knowing what's coming. Knowing we'll be led into the quiet Goodbye Room they have, with its nice couch and soft pastel walls and privacy.

We get called up to the tech and are met with a question.

"If money weren't a problem, what would you do?" I reply without thinking. "Get rid of the damn eye." She tells us that there's another option. There's a friend of the office who offers financial assistance for cases like ours. Young, otherwise healthy animals with decent prognoses whose owners just can't afford the treatment they need. She only asks what we can afford to pay, and she'll pay the rest. No need to repay her. We're overcome. There's the smallest glint of hope.

We ask when we'd have to pay, because we'd just tapped everything we had for his urgent care appointment. She offers to talk to the vet. The vet agrees. We're clients in good standing who've proven again and again how much we care for our pets. The entire office hated what was about to happen because we just couldn't afford a treatment. For us, they'll defer payment until our next check comes in.

Overcome, we schedule the surgery. Jonah is brought out to us, now on painkillers and in significantly better spirits. (Although some of that may be attributed to a dirty secret they shared with us. One of the girls in the office had a birthday that day, you see. And, thinking it was his final day, they'd spoiled him fucking rotten. He may have diarrhea tonight, the tech says apologetically. We just laugh.)

On February 4th, Jonah's left eye will be removed. His right eye will remain. He'll be blind for the rest of his life. But he'll be alive and out of pain and that was always the goal we were aiming for. We still have a heavy financial burden, but he's worth it. He's so, so worth it. We're going to have so many more years to enjoy him and all his tragically Beagle crimes.

[barbitone]

Ridiculous Berencel AU of the Day

Therapy AU

Hear me out-

To set the scene, Ancel and Laurent are roommates. They met in school at some point, and now they live together because Laurent covers rent and Ancel cooks and cleans, and reminds Laurent to eat and drink because he's in graduate school and terrible at taking care of himself.

Ancel is working some appropriately low-paying job. Stripping, maybe, but I always have him stripping so maybe this time he's... a dog groomer or something. Maybe he's had to do a lot of different jobs, because he has terrible taste in men and keeps hooking up with coworkers, and when things go south he bails.

And then there's another dramatic break up, another string of shady hookups, and Laurent has to pick up a drunk and crying Ancel at a bar and he's had ENOUGH.

He tells Ancel he has to go to therapy or he has to start paying rent. But it's ok, he knows A Guy. And he will pay for it too, and Ancel better get in line.

Enter Berenger. He is boring and stuffy and lame and wears ugly reading glasses. His receptionist (Parsins) is old and clearly Dissaproves of Ancel's outfits.

But free rent is on the line, so Ancel goes.

He absolutely does NOT engage in therapy (which is important because I know nothing about therapy and do NOT want to try to write it) he just uses it as an excuse to bitch and describe his sexual escapades in great detail to try to get Berenger to blush. Berenger tries to get him to open up for real, to no avail.

Featuring scenes such as:

Ancel runs into Berenger outside of therapy constantly. He runs into him in the grocery store. He runs into him at a bar, where he realizes that Berenger is hot, actually, when he's not wearing his ugly brown suit. He pretends he's Berenger's boyfriend in front of Berenger's friends (Vaskian ladies, for this one) and Berenger can't deny it because... therapy means he can't out Ancel as his client in front of people and he has to play along instead

Ancel doubles down on talking about sex, because now he wants to seduce Berenger for The Challenge

Berenger resists stoically, because this isn't how it's done!

Maybe Berenger accidentally brings his ridiculously anxious horse dog to the grooming place Ancel works without realizing it, and sees Ancel being sweet on her (Ruby?) and her being sweet on him, the way she NEVER is with strangers, and starts to fall a little in love

Ancel complains, petulantly and at length, that some ASSHOLE parked a motorcycle in his favorite spot and he accidentally backed into it and scratched his bumper, and he didn't leave a note and he hopes birds shit all over the bike now that it's lying on the grass under a tree. Berenger gets a pinched look and says "...you knocked over my bike?" It is awkward. They go look at the damage. Ancel offers to pay awkwardly but Berenger refuses. I cannot emphasize enough how AWKWARD it is. Modern AU Berenger is always motorcycle Berenger now, sorry not sorry

Laurent invites his brother and his brother's best friend to dinner. Auguste shows up with Berenger. Berenger is incredibly uncomfortable. Ancel is also uncomfortable. Laurent is a smug asshole. This is what he's wanted all along.

Laurent never thought Ancel needed therapy, he thought Ancel just needed a decent boyfriend, and he's tired of all of Auguste's stories about trying and failing to set Berenger up. Auguste has been trying to get him with someone Appropriate but clearly Berenger is a freak and needs someone wildly Inappropriate, like Ancel

Laurent has been pulling the strings all along, using Ancel and Berenger like action figures trying to get them to Kiss

At their next session, Berenger fires Ancel as a client because clearly this is just Not Appropriate

He asks him out for dinner afterwards

Happily Ever After

[atopvisenyashill]

do love how this is an asoiaf blog but i did not put either show in my top 10 this is the world we live in

[crossbackpoke-check]

re last answer: please don't stop, being very unhinged about these two pretty white boys is helping distract me from the sharks losing streak rn so bring it on

https://www.tumblr.com/bondedpairs/764566430180147200?source=share

(sideblog woes but there's the link for you) anyway in the vid they talk about going over to each other's houses to have dinner and things and while that is a delicious example of their codependence i love it bc through an rpf lens there is definitely some old man ******* going on. they can have the dilfs and each other.

(someone else mentioned kept boys which i could write an essay on but i fear being Perceived™️)

anyway if you have anything to add to this please do, if not ignore me and i will hide under a rock until the stress-related insanity has worn off and i am a functioning member of society once more 😂

- @bondedpairs

ty for the video!!! and please, WRITE THE KEPT BOYS ESSAYYYY i promise i will read it with my hands over my eyes if you don’t want to be perceived. do it scared!! do it anyway!! we’ll all love you for it!!!

[imreaallyasorry]

Late night doodle….

[dragonbleps]

Look at this little one!! I was checking on my hibiscus and basil and almost didn't even notice her. She looks a little thin maybe. I hope she gets a hearty buggy meal soon

She's, of course, a green anole (Anolis carolinensis). Green anoles are the only anoles native to Florida, but unfortunately they get bullied by the more aggressive brown anoles.

You can slightly see the white stripe down her spine--that indicates she's most likely a female!

Another difference I noticed between green and brown anoles that you don't really see mentioned anywhere is that brown anoles are very flighty. They tend to move in quick bursts at all times. But green anoles, unless needing to flee, will move more slowly and smoothly! Rather than running off when she saw me, she slowly pulled herself along the branch. They're sometimes called the "American chameleon" because of their color changing, but I can see it in their movements too. (They're not chameleons, though, and chameleons aren't the only lizards who can change color lmao).

[gallusrostromegalus]

Move To A Darker Place

This is a story of Man Vs. Machine.

---

Last March, my father attempted to file his Taxes.

My beloved father is a Boomer. Unlike most Boomers, my father is rather handy with technology because he was one of the people that had a not-insignificant hand in Developing a hell of a lot of it. He was studying Computer Science at Cal Poly before the computer science degree existed. I have many fond childhood memories of skipping through the aisles of various electronic and computer part warehouses while Dad described something that either terrified the staff or made them worship him as a God.  He taught himself how to use his smartphone.  Internationally.

So when he saw the option to file digitally with the IRS through the “ID.me” program, he leapt at the chance to celebrate the Federal Government finally entering the Digital Age.

It was all going swimmingly for about six hours, until he was ready to file and the system told him that it needed to verify his identity. 

“Very Well.” said my father, a man unafraid of talking to himself and getting something out of the conversation. “It wouldn’t do for me to get someone else’s return.”

The System told him that it needed him to take a “Digital Image ID”.

a.k.a: A Selfie.

“A-ha!” Dad beams. Dad is very good at taking selfies. He immediately pulled out his phone, snapped one, and tried to upload it.

Please log into your Id.me Account and use the provided app to submit your Digital Image ID. The System clarified.

“Oh. You should have said so.”  Dad pouted, but used his phone to log onto the ID.me account, do the six security verification steps and double-checked that the filing looked the same as it did on the desktop, gave the IRS like nine permissions on his phone, and held up the camera to take his Federal Privacy Invasion Selfie.

Please align your face to the indicated grid. Said The System, pulling up a futuristic green-web-of-polygons approximation.

“Ooh, very Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry would HATE this!” Dad said cheerfully, aligning his face to the grid.  My father is a bit… cavalier, when it comes to matters of personal information and federal government, because he’s been on FBI watchlists since the late 60’s when he was protesting The Vietnam War and Ronald Regan before he’d broken containment. Alas.

Anyway, there is very little information the federal government does not have on him already, but he’s as good at stalking the FBI as they are at stalking him, and had worked out a solution:  He has something approaching a friendship with the local Federal Agent (Some guy named “Larry”. Allegedly), and got Larry hooked on Alternative Histories and Dad’s collection of carefully-researched “there is very likely buried treasure here” stories, and Larry is loath to bother his favorite Historical Fanfiction author too much.

But I digress.

After thinking for a minute, The System came back with an Error Message. Please remove glasses or other facial obstructions.

And here is where the real trouble began.

See, my father wears glasses that do substantially warp the appearance of his face, because he is so nearsighted that he is legally blind without them. His natural focal point is about 4 inches in front of his nose.  While Dad can still take a selfie because he (approximately) knows where his phone is if it’s in his hand, he cannot see the alignment grid.

He should ask someone to take it for him! I hear the audience say. Yes, that would be the sane and reasonable thing to do, but Dad was attempting to do taxes at his residence in Fort Collins, while his immediate family was respectively in Denver, Texas and Canada.  He tried calling our neighbors, who turned out to be in Uganda.

He looked down at the dog, Arwen, and her little criminal paws that can open doorknobs, but not operate cell phones.

She looked back at him, and farted.

“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if it gives me too much trouble, I’ll call Larry, and Larry can call the IRS about it.” Dad told her. 

She continued to watch him. Arwen is an Australian Kelpie (a type of cattle-herding dog), going on 14 years old, deaf as a post and suffering from canine dementia now, but she still retains her natural instinct to Micromanage. She was also trained as a therapy dog, and even if she can’t hear my dad, still recognizes the body language of a man setting himself up for catastrophe.

So, squinting in the late afternoon light next to the back door, Dad attempted to line his face up with a grid he could only sort-of see, and took A Federal Selfie.

The System thought about it for a few moments.

Image Capture Failed: Insufficient Contrast. The System replied. Please move to a darker place.

“...Huh.” Dad frowned. “Alright.”

He moved to the middle of his office, away from the back door, lit only by the house lighting and indirect sunlight, and tried again.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“What?” Dad asked the universe in general.

“Whuff.” Arwen warned him against sunk costs.

Dad ignored her and went into the bathroom, the natural habitat of the selfie. Surely, only being lit by a light fixture that hadn’t been changed since Dad was attempting to warn everyone about Regan would be suitably insufficient lighting for The System.  It took some negotiating, because that bathroom is “Standing Room Only” not “Standing And Holding Your Arms Out In Front Of You Room”.  He ended up taking the selfie in the shower stall.

As The System mulled over the latest attempt, Arwen shuffled over and kicked open the door to watch.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move to a Darker Place.

“Do you mean Spiritually?” Dad demanded.

“Whuff.” Arwen cautioned him again.

Determined to succeed, or at least get a different error message that may give him more information, Dad entered The Downstairs Guest Room.  It is the darkest room in the house, as it is in the basement, and only has one legally-mandated-fire-escape window, which has blinds.  Dad drew those blinds, turned off the lights and tried AGAIN.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move To A Darker Place.

“DO YOU WANT ME TO PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF INSIDE OF A CAVE??” Dad howled. 

“WHUFF!” Arwen reprimanded him from under the pull-out bed in the room. It’s where she attempts to herd everyone when it’s thundering outside, so the space is called her ‘Safety Cave’.

Dad frowned at the large blurry shape that was The Safety Cave.

“Why not?” he asked, the prelude to many a Terrible Plan.  With no small amount of spiteful and manic glee, Dad got down onto the floor, and army-crawled under the bed with Arwen to try One Last Time. Now in near-total darkness, he rolled on his side to be able to stretch his arms out, Arwen slobber-panting in his ear, and waited for the vague green blob of the Facial grid to appear.

This time, when he tapped the button, the flash cctivated.

“GOD DAMN IT!” Dad shouted, dropping the phone and rubbing his eyes and cursing to alleviate the pain of accidentally flash-banging himself. Arwen shuffled away from him under the bed, huffing sarcastically at him.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“MOTHERFU- hang on.” Dad squinted.  The System sounded strange. Distant and slightly muffled.

Dad squinted really hard, and saw the movement of Arwen crawling out from under the bed along the phone’s last known trajectory.

“ARWEN!” Dad shouted, awkwardly reverse-army crawling out from under the bed, using it to get to his feet and searching for his glasses, which had fallen out of his pocket under the bed, so by the time he was sighted again, Arwen had had ample time to remove The Offending Device.

He found her out in the middle of the back yard, the satisfied look of a Job Well Done on her face. She did not have the phone. 

“Arwen.” Dad glared. It’s a very good glare. Dad was a teacher for many years and used it to keep his class in order with sheer telepathically induced embarrassment, and his father once glared a peach tree into fecundity.  

Arwen regarded him with the casual interest a hurricane might regard a sailboat tumbling out of its wake. She is a force of nature unto herself and not about to be intimidated by a half-blind house ape.  She also has cataracts and might not be able to make out the glare.

“I GIVE UP!” Dad shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the office to write to the IRS that their selfie software sucks ass. Pleased that she had gotten her desired result, Arwen followed him in.

To Dad’s immense surprise, the computer cheerfully informed him that his Federally Secure Selfie had been accepted, and that they had received and were now processing his return!

“What the FUCK?” Dad glared. “Oh well. If I’ve screwed it up, Larry can call me.”

---

I bring this up because recently, Dad received an interesting piece of mail.

It was a letter from the IRS, addressed to him, a nerve-wracking thing to recessive at the best of times.  Instead of a complaint about Dad’s Selfie Skills, it was a letter congratulating him on using the new ID.me System.  It thanked him for his help and expressed hopes he would use it again next year, and included the selfie that The System had finally decided to accept.

“You know, my dad used to complain about automation.” Dad sighed, staring at the image. “Incidentals my boy!  My secretary saves the state of California millions of dollars a year catching small errors before they become massive ones! He’d say. Fought the human resources board about her pay every year.  I used to think he was overestimating how bad machines were and underestimating human error, but you know? He was right.”

He handed me the image.

My father was, technically, in the image.  A significant amount of the bottom right corner is taken up by the top of his forehead and silver hair.  Most of the image, the part with the facial-recognition markers on it, was composed of Arwen’s Alarmed and Disgusted Doggy face.

“Oh no!” I cackled. “Crap, does this mean you have to call the IRS and tell them you’re not a dog?”

“Probably.” Dad sighed. “I know who I’m gonna bother first though.” he said, taking out his phone (Dad did find his phone a few hours after Arwen absconded with it when mom called and the early spinach started ringing). 

“Hey Larry!” Dad announced to the local federal agent. “You’re never gonna believe this. My dog filed my taxes!”

Larry considered this for a moment. “Is this the dog that stole my sandwich? Out of my locked  car?” he asked suspiciously.

“The very same.” Dad grinned.

“Hm. Clever Girl.” Federal Agent Larry sighed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before she got into tax fraud.”

---

I'm a disabled artist making my living writing these stories. If you enjoy my stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Book on Patreon. Thank you!

[oceantornadoo]

inspired by a dramoine fic i read! simon riley x f!reader

it’s the third time today someone has handed you simon’s paperwork and you’re starting to get confused. in fact, there’s the distinct feeling that you’ve missed a memo.

first, it was the visiting captain, so you couldn’t blame him for confusing lieutenants. but then it was johnny turning in his mission report, muttering something about “cannae be late this time if ah give it ye, lass.” which was odd, considering you weren’t his direct report (you were gaz’s). but what really sent you over the edge was getting called into price’s office and being met with a load of folders addressed to one Lt. Ghost (Confidential).

“sir, i’m a bit confused as to why you can’t just give these to him yourself.” price looked up from his desk, eyes flickering from under his boonie hat. “hav’ you seen ‘im today, lieutenant?” you nodded immediately while trying to scoop all of this paperwork (that was not yours!) into your arms. “yessir, i saw him before breakfast and then during training and then…what?” price had silently quirked an eyebrow, his beard echoing the movement. “i haven’t seen ‘im all day, so i figure it’s faster for you to deliver since you’re more well-versed in his movements than i am.” huh. “i’m sure he’s just doing his ghost thing, y’know? slipping into shadows and…”, price patiently gave you an exasperated look, “but i’ll get these to him, sir. see you later!”

the problem was, you knew exactly where simon was. in your office.

his own had an unfortunate ground level window near the track, so he was always complaining about nosy recruits until you offered to share some office space. temporarily, of course. it’s not like you were using all the empty space anyways and it made it much easier to get the opinion of your fellow lieutenant on a report by walking over to his desk, rather than going up and down stairs. that was the second point he made, and who were you to say no?

after pushing open your office door, you beelined for simon’s desk, dumping the stacks of folders on his desk. “wot’s this?” his mask was off so you could see his eyes widen at the mess of papers. “everyone now thinks i’m a drop off box for your paperwork, so i got burdened with all of this when i was doing my rounds.” he nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea. “cheers, love.”

“what do you mean, cheers? don’t you think it’s odd for them to give me your paperwork? and why do we even have so much paperwork? i swear im drowning in it this week.” he snorted at your last sentence, opening the first folder in front of him while you rounded your desk, sitting in your comfy chair with a hmpf. “yer out an’ about more than me, tha’s all.” well, that was true. the infamous ghost was not known to be a sociable person on base. “i guess…” you turned to your old radio, passed down by a retired captain, and turned on simon’s favorite classical station.

“ya want mess or the pub tonight, love?” another great thing about being on base with simon - you never had to pay for dinner. “actually, that thai place we like is doing a special tonight.” he gave you a half-smirk, one cheek ticking up. “bloody raccoon. we had thai two nights ago.” you didn’t respond, instead blinking your best impression of puppy dog eyes at him. simon sighed, then shook his head at his desk. “olrigh’. the things i do.” you smiled and winked, dipping your head back down to your desk. “thanks, si.”

-

two weeks later, you were prepping for a duo mission with simon. price had been grilling the two of you for the past three hours, making sure you had everything memorized. satisfied, he leaned back in his office chair and rubbed his temples, the feeling of a headache coming on. “one more thing.” both of you snapped your head up at price, desperate to leave and eat. you’d already missed dinner and your stomach was complaining.

“the safe house is pretty small, basically a shack. one bed, no couch. i assumed ‘s fine since y’r datin-“ “‘s fine, captain.” simon cut him off, an out of character move that had you frowning. “it’s fine, cap. not like ive never slept on a floor before.” now price was frowning at what you said. he turned to simon, who shook his head imperceptibly before becoming still again. price’s brow furrowed but he didn’t push further. he got up from his chair, eyes flitting suspiciously between you two. “i’ll see you at 0600.”

“what was that about?” you whispered to simon after as you walked down the hall. “‘s nothin’.” you were missing something but it was so unclear what. “he thinks that we’re datin-“ “said it’s nothin’, sweetheart. he’s an old man. let’s get some food in you, yeah?” you nodded, letting him guide you to the kitchen. price wasn’t that old. and you were not dating simon riley.

-

the mission was beautiful, your best one in years. it was the first duo mission between you and simon, so the nerves of pulling your own weight had settled in hard. thankfully, your skills balanced each other out and you’d gotten the target in record time. now, all you had to do was wait in the safe house for exfil.

“you were so good.” you whispered once he’d locked the door. he only hummed a response, checking exit and entry points while you set up your packs, scrounging up MREs and testing the shack for electricity. price wasn’t kidding - it was practically a studio apartment. one bed, a bathroom and a decrepit stove. the soldier part of you was fine with it, but that small soft part of you ached for the warmth of your apartment. memories of yelling at simon for using all your shampoo even though he didn’t live there, of him running you a bath after a long day of training.

“you were good too, baby.” he snuck up from behind your spot on the floor and lifted you onto the mattress that had definitely seen better days. you hadn’t even checked it for bed bugs yet. “c’mere.” he pulled you into his lap, unbuckling your tac vest as you pulled off your bandana. you tugged off his mask - the hard shell since you were on a mission - and ran your nails through his short haircut. simon started kissing your neck, wet and sloppy like he couldn’t get enough. the unrestrained want he displayed sometimes scared you. the respective pulsing in both your chest and cunt scared you more.

“so are you sleeping on the floor or am i?” he flipped you over, your back flush with the mattress as simon loomed over you. there was still eyeblack around his eyes, caught on his blonde eyelashes as well, and you couldn’t help the hand that reached up to brush some of it away. “y’r funny, sweetheart.” you grinned at that - a real toothy smile. he bent down to kiss you, scarred lips caressing your own. simon bit your lip and you moaned, sliding your legs out from under him to wrap them around his torso. when you tugged him in he went willingly, grinding into your clothed cunt. his tac vest was still on, scraping against your shirt, hardening your nipples.

“keepin’ you in this bed all night.” cold fingers dipped past the waist of your pants. you were already wet, his fingers sliding easily up and down your slit as they warmed up. that’s when you realized he still had his glove on, his movements harsher than normal. wide eyes met his own, and simon stopped so you could make a decision.

it didn’t take much as you dug your heels into his back harder, meeting him in a sloppy kiss as his gloved thumb played with your clit. “fuckin’ made for me.” he whispered, and you chalked it up to dirty talk because obviously, you weren’t together. he just knew exactly what to do, giving your clit the right amount of pressure as his other fingers teased your hole, the stretch burning more than usual. it only took a few flicks and you were off, your orgasm settling through your bones like a warm cup of tea. “jesus, si.” he grinned, his scarred lips pulling up to show a beautiful smile. “know ya like th’ back of my hand, huh?” you shook your head, capturing the idiot in another kiss.

-

after the mission, after debrief and a hot shower, you made your way back to your base office. thankfully, paperwork had only slightly piled up. one envelope stood out though - a thick card-stock with glossy, swooping letters. an invite to london’s military gala, addressed to a Lieutenant & Lieutenant. simon’s name was next to yours, connected by a singular symbol. you turned to him in disbelief. simon had been going through his own backlog, but his head snapped up under the focus of your glare.

“simon, are we…dating?”

-

this was fun!!! check out the fic i linked it was so good and i couldn’t put it down.

[harrysfolklore]

matchmaker - op81

summary: oscar finds a puppy wandering around the streets of monaco that leads him to meet his lucky charm

folkie radio: AN OSCAR FIC FINALLY OMG!!!! i have to say thank you to @cambrayficsrecs for sending this idea !! i LOVED IT and i hope you like this

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and 209 others

yourinstagram meet the newest monaco resident: arlo 🤍 swipe to see the goodest boy helping me settle in my new home 🐾

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yourbff HE'S PERFECT!! miss you already but so happy for you 😭

username1 the cutest addition to monaco!!

username2 remember when you said you'd never get a dog? 😂

alexandrasaintmleux my new favorite neighbor!!! can't wait for our puppy playdates 🤍

↳ yourinstagram arlo and leo are going to be bffs 🥹🥹

username3 told you moving to monaco was the best decision

username4 i'm visiting asap just to meet this angel

yourbff2 can't believe my best friend lives in monaco now

username5 you're living the dream with the goodest boy!

username6 look at that face!! when can i visit?

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texts between alex and yn

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 583,827 others

oscarpiastri Enjoyed being a temporary dog dad today 🐾 glad this good boy made it back home safe! might have to get one of my own now...

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username1 MY HEARTTT

username2 OSCAR YOU CAN’T DO THIS

maxverstappen1 Don't let lando see this

↳ landonorris too late. getting a dog.

mclaren Best teammate and dog sitter 🧡

username3 OSCAR WITH A PUPPY THIS IS NOT A DRILL

username4 the wholesome content we needed today

alexandrasaintmleux arlo already misses his rescuer! thanks again oscar 🤍

username5 get this man a dog asap

username6 the way he took care of a stranger's dog 🥺

username7 okay but imagine oscar with his own puppy

username8 JUST GET A DOG

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

yourbff ARLO OMG 🥺🥺 what happened to him?

↳ yourinstagram sneaky little minx disappeared from the balcony.. he’s safe tho

username1 omg poor you! good thing you found him

username2 is this knight in shinning armor who saved arlo cute?

↳ yourinstagram STOP 😭

username3 i need to visit so i can meet arlo

alexandrasaintmleux I could give you his insta… or his number 👀

↳ yourinstagram STOP IT ALEX

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texts between alex and yn

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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 28,724 others

yourinstagram turns out the nice guy who found arlo last week also happens to be pretty good at driving cars 🏎️ congrats on p2! @/oscarpiastri

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username1 GIRL WHAT IS YOUR LIFE RN

username2 you move to monaco and suddenly you're in f1 garages???

alexandrasaintmleux told you you'd love f1 🤍

↳ yourinstagram love you !

username3 OMG OSCAR

username4 SHES THE OWNER OF THE DOG

username5 this plot twist though 👀

mclaren 🧡

username6 the way this all started because arlo escaped

charles_leclerc I won you know? 🤔

↳ yourinstagram congrats charles !

username7 YOUR LIFE IS A MOVIE

username8 the best meet cute ever??

oscarpiastri Couldn't have done it without my good luck charm 🐾

↳ yourinstagram arlo says you’re welcome!

username9 IS THIS THE OWNER??

username10 the cutest storyline of the season

username11 THE WAY HE COMMENTED

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oscarpiastri sent you a direct message

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liked by username1, username2 and 14,826 others

f1gossip Oscar Piastri spotted having coffee with the owner of the now-famous beagle puppy in Monaco this morning 👀

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username1 THE WAY THIS STORY KEEPS GETTING BETTER

username2 from rescuing her dog to coffee dates we love this journey

username3 this is better than drive to survive

username4 THEY’RE SO CLOSE HELLO

username5 this is the cutest thing ever help

username6 the fact that the dog is there too 😭

username7 someone check on lando he's losing his bachelor buddy

username8 the good luck charm strikes again

username9 living a wattpad story fr

username10 HE LOOKS SO HAPPY

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux and 47,935 others

yourinstagram turns out there's more to monaco than just fancy cars 🤍

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username1 THE WAY YOU MOVED TO MONACO AND IMMEDIATELY LIVING A ROMCOM

username2 OSCAR?????

username3 arlo the ultimate wingman

username4 this storyline keeps getting better

username5 OMFG WHAT IS THIS I NEED THE CONTEXT

alexandrasaintmleux told you he was cute 😌

↳ username1 OMFG ALEX

↳ username2 i love her

↳ charles_leclerc 😂😂😂

username6 need full story time asap

username7 the way this all started because she lost her dog 😭

username8 living for this plot development

oscarpiastri arlo approved ✅

↳ username1 OSCAR STOPPPPP

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

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texts between oscar and yn

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liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 986,033

oscarpiastri Great weekend with the team 🧡 Ready to head back home to Monaco though... missing my favorite good luck charm 🐾"

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username1 OSCCCC

username2 is he talking about the dog? 😭

landonorris which one? 👀

↳ oscarpiastri 🤫

↳ username1 HELLO???

↳ username3 DECODE THIS

alexandrasaintmleux someone's eager to get back 😌

↳ charles_leclerc Your matchmaking services working well

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN

georgerussell63 The power of puppy love

username3 WE ALL KNOW WHICH GOOD LUCK CHARM

username4 the way he said "home" to monaco 🥺

username5 did anyone else catch him waving to someone on facetime after the race??

username6 some of this comments saying “the dog” his name is ARLO and he’s an icon

username7 i’m going to call it right now oscar is dating the dog owner

username8 OSC 😩

yourinstagram 🤍

liked by username1, username2 and 8,739 others

f1gossipinsider Straight from Barcelona to dinner in Monaco... Oscar Piastri spotted at Le Grill with a certain someone 👀

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username1 THE WAY HE DIDN'T EVEN GO HOME FIRST

username2 man flew straight from barcelona to take her to dinner i'm crying

username3 not me zooming in to confirm it's her

username4 THATS DEFINITELY YN AND ARLO UNDER THE TABLE

username5 fastest post-race exit we've ever seen

username6 Le Grill?? Man's not playing around

username7 our favorite story continues...

username8 this man SPRINTED from the circuit

username9 the commitment >>>

username10 our boy's got his priorities straight

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texts between oscar and yn

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liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri and 45,099 others

yourinstagram turns out watching someone drive in circles for 2 hours isn't so bad after all 🏎️ proud of you @/oscarpiastri 🧡

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username1 OMGGGG

username2 look at little arloooo

francisca.cgomes So lovely meeting you! Welcome to the family ❤️

yourbff we have soooo much catching up to do

carmenmmundt You're a natural! Can't wait for Hungary

alexandrasaintmleux look who's becoming an f1 expert

↳ charles_leclerc Stop taking credit for this

↳ alexandrasaintmleux never 😌

↳ username1 HELLO??

username3 the WAGs adopting her immediately >>

username4 ARE THEY DATING??

username5 oh what a plot twist

username6 THIS IS GIVING ME LIFE

username7 so the key go getting an f1 driver to date you is getting a dog i see

username8 ARLO IS SO CUTE

oscarpiastri Best good luck charms ever 🤍

↳ username1 OSCAR STOP

↳ username2 i simply cannot do this

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texts between alex and yn

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oscarpiastri has added to their stories

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liked by carlossainz55, yourinstagram and 1,099,832 others

oscarpiastri First Grand Prix Win. Incredible 🧡 Thank you to the two lucky charms who changed everything

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username1 IM CRYING

username2 HELLO TWO LUCKY CHARMS ??

landonorris GET IN THERE MATE!! Proud of you 🧡

alex_albon THATS MY BOY

username3 IS HE TALKING ABOUT ARLO AND YN??

username4 im actually sobbing

username5 man won his first race and chose to be THIS cute about it

username6 SOMEONE SAID HE KEPT SHOWING HER THE TROPHY

georgerussell63 CONGRATS OSCO 🙌🙌

username7 from monaco meet cute to whatever this is im crying

username8 THIS IS ADORABLE OSCAR HELLO

username9 not to be parasocial but he's so in love

username10 THE WAY ARLO WAS THERE FOR HIS WIN

yourinstagram we're incredibly proud of you 🤍

liked by username1, username2 and 10,877 others

f1gossip From first F1 win to celebration dinner - Oscar Piastri living his best life in Budapest tonight! Sources say he couldn't stop smiling and kept calling her "my girlfriend" to everyone 👀

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username1 OH MY LORD

username2 is this oscar "i don't like pda" piastri??

username3 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES

username4 the way this all started bc she lost her dog...

username5 I NEED THIS TO HAPPEN TO ME

username6 this is how we find out oscar is not single anymore

username7 EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU ARLO

username8 lord i've seen what you've done for others

username9 the best meet cute in history

username10 THAT SHOULD BE ME

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 60,826 others

yourinstagram home sweet home with my favorite race winner (and his trophy that he definitely didn't make me pack extra carefully) 🏆✨ still pinching myself about this weekend 🧡

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username1 CRYING

username2 the way we all watched this love story unfold

username3 most precious f1 couple no debate

landonorris Mans giving away his caps now?? love's changed him

lilymhe cutest neighbors ever! dinner tomorrow? 🤍

↳ yourinstagram count on it!

username4 LOOK AT ARLOOO I CANT

username5 i can’t believe oscar has a gf now

francisca.cgomes you two are goals honestly

mclaren Our lucky charm is back home! 🧡

username6 remember when she didn't know what DRS was 😭

username7 she's literally living the dream

username8 how to go from dog mom to f1 wag: a novel

alexandrasaintmleux my biggest masterpiece 🥹

↳ charles_leclerc STOP TAKING CREDIT

↳ alexandrasaintmleux NEVER

↳ yourinstagram arlo was the real matchmaker

username9 HOW DO I GET THIS LIFE

username10 they’re so in love i can’t

oscarpiastri My two favorite things in monaco ❤️

↳ yourinstagram three* don't forget the trophy

↳ oscarpiastri Trophy’s just a bonus 😘

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 1,549,022 others

oscarpiastri To the best wingman and matchmaker in F1 - thanks for running away that day in Monaco. Changed my whole life 🐾❤️ (YN says I need to stop spoiling him but look at that face)

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username1 IM FULL PN SOBBING NOW

username2 ARLOOOOO🥹🥹🥹

alex_albon most successful matchmaker in monaco

mclaren Our honorary team member 🧡

username3 i love one fairytale love story

alexandrasaintmleux YOU’RE ALL WELCOME

↳ username1 alex 😭😭

↳ charles_leclerc you're still not getting credit for this

↳ oscarpiastri It was all Arlo

username4 HE CALLED HIM HIS WINGMAN 😭

username5 from runaway dog to f1 power couple

username6 netflix writing this down rn

username7 cupid who? we only know arlo

nicolepiastri ❤️

username8 most iconic f1 meet cute ever

username9 the real mvp of the season

username10 OSCAR DOG DAD

yourinstagram our matchmaker 🤍

[bi-writes]

idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

[giamee]

🌐 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 '𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘!

hsr men x f!reader .... SMUT!! 🚨🚨🚨

request ؛ ଓ @coreakin-sakarat What will the honkai star rail men play when yr having sex and who bottom or both and do they go rithm oh oh and do they use toys on u and what are their favorite parts of ur body to fuck

gia's notes ؛ ଓ i did this as more of me just... talkin abt what i think the hsr men are like in bed in order from least to most freaky in my humble opinion. i hope that you like it even though i didn't exactly hit every point u brought up :(

DAN HENG .ᐟ୨୧ starting it off sweet with him, i see dan heng as more of a bottom than anything... he's not super experienced, quite a tender lover, and i see him as remaining quite serious and stoic within the bedroom too. definitely more of a slow and sensual pace, just wants to feel it all with you <3 he's quite hesitant to try things out imo, but i reckon that you could convince him to try out using toys with some convincing! 1000% a thigh guy, really likes pulling out and painting your thighs with his cum as he watches them shake. presses kisses to your forehead as you come down from both of your highs. lowkey i get the vibe that the aftercare and the cuddling and falling asleep together is more satisfying to him than having sex. THIS MAN CRAVES SKIN TO SKIN!!!! he will interlace your fingers while fucking and kiss all over your face!!! a very sweet lover <3

GEPARD .ᐟ୨୧ this man SCREAMS pleasure service top to me. he could cum in his pants just by watching you i swear. he just wants to satisfy you as best as he can :((( your wish is his command frfr. he'll put you in whatever positions you want fully customisable experience just say the word. will sometimes pause midway through sex just to ask you if he's doing a good job and if it feels good with his big puppy dog eyes AWEE. i think he would probably be a little hesitant to try out toys, especially at first? his logic reverts to him assuming that he wasn't good enough at pleasuring you and so you have to revert to a piece of plastic... but be a bit dominant and show, don't tell, him just how good a vibrator can feel and he'll be a lot more on board with the idea <3 his whole mentality is just.. do anything to give you pleasure so if you're on the freakier side, this man is game! (PEG HIM) the little sadistic side of you gets a kick seeing tears well up in his eyes if you edge him just to hear his whines and moans... he might be a top but this man is a sub thru and thru. a bad bitch (you) tells him what to do and he listens!! anyways back to when you and him are fucking... this man is just utterly in love with your pussy, they way it gushes and clenches around him, and his absolute favourite position is any where he gets to just bury his face in ur tits while he's buried inside of you because everything is just so comforting and all of him is now surrounded by something so warm and soft... he's in heaven <3 so yeah he's a tits guy who would have thought!! no matter the shape or size HE'S PUTTING THEM IN HIS MOUTH <3 his thrusts get real sloppy at the end when he's about to cum too, starts babbling in your ear about how good it feels and how much he loves u. what a cutie pie

ARGENTI .ᐟ୨୧ to be honest? i had to think a bit about this one. to me, argenti doesn't really seem like the type to bring up using toys... but that doesn't mean that he isn't game if you mention it. he seems ... not passive exactly? but he just seems like the type to go with the flow with sex. whatever you're into he'll just be like shit i'm down let's go. not kinky per se, but he's definitely a passionate lover. very much wants to explore sensuality. ooh maybe he would be into some sort of wax play or blindfold type behaviour i take it back. would probably chuckle if you decide to get on top and place his hands on your hips to help you adjust to his size and set your own pace <3 very loving, wants to celebrate the beauty of your naked body and worship it in the name of adrila. so yeah if you've got a praise kink, HE'S YOUR MAN!!! you feel like the subject of a poem as he sings your praises, telling you how pretty you look and sound when you cum. like shiiiii that would be enough to make me blush <33 in terms of pace and stuff, i feel like he would be pretty standard? maybe on the slower side because of... you know... passion. it's nothing crazy but still a good time. he seems like he prefers to be looking up at you so RIDE THAT MAN!! maintain eye contact as you sink down on it. raise your hips back up ever so slowly and watch the slightest twitch of his brow as you swivel your hips, sinking back down on it ever so slowly. you might just see him blush. and just as the name suggests, the knight of beauty is a SIGHT to behold when he cums (probably inside).

WELT .ᐟ୨୧ yeah peepaw has got some EXPERIENCE to him lmaoo. he's got a sort of... cheekier? side to him. as an older man, though, he doesn't exactly have the same stamina as he did in his youth :( but that doesn't mean that he can't still get down and dirty with you!! quite the opposite actually. so his solution? he uses toys on you <3 he's more of a bottom but he is DEFINITELY in charge. his dirty talk OMFGG im giggling just thinking about it he would praise you and whisper such sweet words to you as he slowly splits you open on his fat cock, telling you how you're such a good girl for taking him so well, how you feel so good around him, all so he can feel you clench around him like a vice grip as he finally bottoms out <33 def would just have his hands around your waist as he moves you up and down his length when you're feeling weightless. but if he's in a more passive mood, he also LOVESSSS just sitting back and watching you struggle to ride him with a lazy adoring look in his eyes as he holds a vibrator to your clit <333 he'll coo at you as you start crying from the overstimulation, his hands wiping away your tears so tenderly and encouraging you to keep going just for him <3 a little bit of a sadistic side to him because he really does just love watching you squirm. another thigh and ass guy imo, really loves the way they jiggle as they slam down against his own thighs as you start to pick up the pace and ride him with increasing desperation. also loves watching them shake when you cum <3. so yeah as a no brainer i think one of his favourite positions would be reverse cowgirl. yum <3

BOOTHILL .ᐟ୨୧ now dont get me wrong this man FUCKS. since he's a cyborg does his dick count as a toy...? yeah fuck it let's go with it HIS BIOCOCK VIBRATES!! so the sensations on that will go CRAZYYYY. and then i'm thinking because of his synthesia beacon and stuff he doesn't exactly experience much sensation down there. so when you're having sex, what gets him off the most is just seeing your pleasure as you unravel. makes him feel good vicariously <3 so yeah definitely a missionary lover in my eyes so he can watch all your facial expressions and reactions as he hits all the right places, how your brows furrow and your eyes slide shut and eyes roll back in your head as he keeps up his unforgiving pace at juuuuust the right angle <33 but don't get me wrong he's no vanilla bitch either!! if he wants to be feeling more ... sensations he can and will make you just sit on his face for actual HOURS just eating you out to his heart's content. you'd think that his tongue is cybernetic too with the way it flicks across your clit at a borderline INHUMAN speed. but no he's just that good. some of ur most intense orgasms have been from him tonguefucking you like this, his head firmly sandwiched between your quivering thighs as you're basically humping his face as u ride out your high. and hey, he's not complaining <3 and then his smug shit-eating grin does NOT help at all when you're still trying to come back down to earth and he's sitting up wiping the slick off his face with that hungry look STILL in his eyes good lord i hope u can survive the night. this bastard has definitely ruined toys for you, they just don't feel the same any more <//3

BLADE .ᐟ୨୧ fucks hard. angry and/or jealous sex with him has just gotta be >>> 😮‍💨😮‍💨 he's on the rougher side and for MOST of the time will dom. and also tbh i don't really see him as being the type to use toys since he's more spontaneous in terms of having sex (public sex. he's got a high sex drive) but very very passionate for sure- lots of grunts and low moans right up in ur ear mhhhnrng. but also at the same time i feel like he would be quite emotionally detached from sex at first, seeing it as more like stress relief than an act of intimacy? and don't get me wrong, some of the best fucks of your life have come from him when he's just trying to release some pent up anger, but on the flip side there's a more vulnerable side to him, almost. one that's barely there any more from years of bitterness and resentment, but still manages to creep up on him on those late nights where he can't quite sleep. so if you're with him on those rare occasions, this is when you experience him not fucking you, but making LOVE. he won't talk, but he doesn't need to, not with the way he's holding you close to him and kissing you with something akin to desperation as he sinks into you and kind of just... stays there for a bit. it's oddly comforting to him, and if he's feeling especially weak he'll need some comfort- just to get him through the night. it's these nights where you take control more, setting a slow and sweet pace and kind of just... hushing him and whispering sweet words to him as you slowly let yourself grind over him, feeling the way he twitches inside of u <333 but yeah back to not vulnerable blade. a fan of quickies for sureeee (see: high sex drive) another tit guy because i am biased. the force of his thrusts in some dark alleyway or hidden corner will have them jiggling and threatening to fall out of whatever shirt you wear. and if he's got you lifted up in his arms, your legs wrapped around him as you're chest to chest with each other, he just can't tear his eyes away from your boobs. leaves bites on them, laves over them like a damn dog until they're coated in saliva and stiff and perked up because of how cold it feels when drying on your skin. if you're in doggystyle, you'll feel his hands clasp over them from behind, a few short and sweet squeezes to them before his blunt nails are flicking over your nipples just to hear you squeal <3

AVENTURINE .ᐟ୨୧ just like blade, he very much has two different modes. let's start with the freaky one bc that's fun. he's quite open to experiment with all aspects of sex- who's in charge, who's topping, toys, positions, you name it. he trusts you enough to do anything with or to you short of causing each other pain. so yeah he's a freak alright!! i feel like if you're in an established relationship, he'll feel guilty due to the amount if time that he spends away from you because of his job, and make it up to you by spoiling you with gifts... he loves to buy you new toys to try out as he sits back and just watches as you squirm and then writhe in pleasure as he slowly palms himself, eventually unzipping his trousers and jerking himself off until he cums all over u <33 definitely gets a kick out of seeing his cum painting your pretty face and how your tongue darts out to catch it before it drips onto the floor <333 or maybe he just strokes himself to stay hard, his eyes hungrily watching you as your own remain transfixed on his cock, the flushed tip disappearing with every stroke of his hand, the slick noises of his precum overpowering the buzzing hum of the dildo inside of you. and then when neither of you can handle the tension any more, dying to feel each other's touch, after you've cum a couple of times and are all nice and sensitive for him, then and ONLY then will he finally put it in, quickly setting a pace to fuck your brains out like a wild animal <3 lovessss doggystyle or the speedbump position because then he's all up in your guts and ur moans/screams of pleasure are just music to his ears. definitely the type to go a little feral bc... yeah. so yeah that's freaky mode! but like blade he has a softer side to him UNLIKE blade it is still definitely there and more accessible... but that doesn't mean he exposes it to you just like that either. but yeah if he's feeling more vulnerable emotionally, especially right after he wakes up from a nightmare while you're groggily waking up next to him, he just needs comfort. you holding him and stroking his hair, telling him how he's safe and how much you love him. if you've been together for a while and he really trusts you, he might even cry. almost begs you to call him kakavasha instead of aventurine, and you oblige. and then as soon as his name leaves your lips, he's kissing you hard, gradually letting them become tender as you undress each other with the utmost amount of care. it's love that motivates him, from what you can feel from his fingers tracing your skin and how soft his lips press against yours. he lets out a quiet moan as he sinks into you and basks in your warmth for a bit, letting his arms now wrap around your frame tightly, holding you to himself as if you would disappear any moment. and you hug him too, draw patterns on his back, stroke his hair and hum as you tell him how much you love him, listening to the sound of his shaky breaths as you slowly raise your hips, sinking back down inch by inch to hear him hiss. at first, he would still refuse to let you see his face when you have sex like this, not until you gently coax him to look at you, and you see the crystalline tears already escaping from his eyes. he's definitely the type to cry during sex like this- something so soft and tender that it's overwhelming to him for so many reasons- the vulnerability of it all, how much you love and care for him written all over your face, the way you squeeze against him so perfectly. and then he buries his face in your chest as you keep whispering words of affirmation to him and he cums so fast, deep inside of you and then he stays even when he feels himself go soft. just because it feels nice. and he falls asleep just like that, clinging to you, the person he loves.

JING YUAN .ᐟ୨୧ another member of team lazy but pussydrunk (him and welt have permanent memberships lmfao) whenever the two of you fuck it usually starts with him making you work for it. involving either you getting off by grinding on his thigh or riding him, desperately throwing your weight back onto him to even simulate the feeling of his powerful thrusts- all in vain as he merely sits there, looking up at you with a maddening smile and just WATCHING you... what a creep <3 but yeah he loves loves loves seeing how worked up and whiny you get for him to do something, anything, just for him to do the exact opposite, placing two firm hands on your hips to effectively get you to stop, and you whine again from the loss of friction. and he'll merely smile, telling you how you're such a good girl for him, getti my off from watching you get so so close, just to do it over and over again. orgasm denial and edging really are his two best friends fr. so he's not really a strict dom but more of a tease, you get me? i think that YES he will use toys. really gets a kick out of vibrating panties or a vibrator inside of you that he can remote control <33 just really enjoys when you're in public trying to remain composed (what a creep <3) keeps u constantly stimulated all day, finally making it up to you when you both get back home, fucking you properly as you're on the verge of tears and ready to cum any second. hmmm hear me out on this but i think his favourite place to cum would be your back.. like yeah finishing inside is cool and all but pulling out and cumming all over your back just drives him CRAZY and ready for another round... as soon as you recover <3

LUOCHA .ᐟ୨୧ LORDDDDDD he's like jing yuan but even WORSE. he's dangerous too because in his eyes, it isn't him or a toy but him AND a toy. this man will have u in his lap thighs spread legs hanging over his knees so he can keep them open as he has one hand gripping your chin forcing to look at yourself in a mirror, the other hand holding a vibe to yr clit <33 every time your eyes start to roll back he'll do a light slap to your face, forcing you to hold eye contact with him through the mirror, his feline eyes dancing with mirth at your already fucked-out expression. and then when he's sure that his gaze is holding your attention, he'll let go of your face, letting his hand snaie downwards until his hands are collecting your slick on his fingers before pushing into you, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek that contradicts how hard he's fingering you <3 squirting is not an achievement but the new standard with him!! that man is NOT relenting until you coat his arm and the floor (even the mirror) he really likes making you kiss him just after you cum- when your brain is foggy from the intensity of your orgasm, you can barely hear, let alone process what he's saying, and when u finally manage to connect your lips to his the kiss is just so sweet n sloppy, showing how worked up he is already <33 he's a little mean with it but you wouldn't have it any other way!! because that man knows what you need and will DELIVER. and he loves alllll of you. especially your pussy. and ass lol

DR RATIO .ᐟ୨୧ ok stay with me now cos this one's more of a scenario but!!! imagine that you haven't seen veritas in a while because you've both been busy but he messages you, saying how he'll finally be back soon!!! and ur just so excited that you can't contain it, and all those lonely nights are starting to tally up... your hands just don't do the trick any more and you finally cave, getting out your old reliable dildo to try and satiate your lust. trying your hardest to focus on veritas while you fuck yourself so that you'll be able to cum... pretending that it's his cock instead of some silicone... moaning out his name into your room with your eyes screwed shut to try trick your brain into believing that it's really him!! and it seems to work because you can feel that coil in you begin to tighten, and just when ur about to cum you feel a hand on top of yours, startling you out of your impending orgasm. and you open your eyes to see none other than the man who you had been fantasising about just now <3 and he's got this smirk on his face and a certain look in his eyes, and when you glance down you can see that he isn't exactly... unaffected from watching you earlier <33 i feel like he would degrade you a little, calling you such a stupid girl for needing to think of him just to even get close to cumming <333 and you'll whine and get embarrassed, trying to hide yourself with the covers, but deep down you know he's right so you peek at him from behind your lashes, batting them and begging him to help you as sweetly as you can. and how can he deny you when you're just so sweet and submissive for him? he'll be quick to take out his cock, slipping the head through your folds, letting it catch as it skims past your needy hole, letting the tip slap against your sensitive clit just to watch your whole body twitch as he chuckles to himself before bullying his cock into you. even after fucking yourself it's still a stretch, especially cos he has you in a mating press, his strong hands keeping your thighs pinned as he puts hisbweight behind his thrusts, really slamming into you until you're bouncing back against the mattress <33 a good hard fuck that hits all the right spots he needs to in order for you to cum HARD. but if he's feeling mean, he won't even oblige your request, instead being all smug and settling back on his haunches, goading you to keep going and make yourself cum without him because you're just so close, you can do it. watches your pathetic attempts to do so as you huff and beg him because you just can't without him <//3 and maybe if you beg hard enough he'll consider helping you out... even though it's just so entertaining to watch you keep trying. ironically enough, it's the way he calls you his sweet girl as he finally pushes into you that sends you over the edge more than any of your own touches did. and once you ride out that high, body no longer convulsing on his dick, he'll pull out of you just to flip you onto your stomach, then pull your hips up to meet his before fucking into you to make you really cum because of him this time <33

SAMPO .ᐟ୨୧ this man is MOST DEFINITELY an experimentalist!!! 1000% down for literally anything. you use toys on each other el oh el. the epitome of a switch. he'll top or bottom too, it's always a good time with him. definitely a freak. tbh i headcanon him as having a crazy oral fixation... if he's not sucking on your tits already then put your fingers in his mouth!! he'll have hearts swimming in his eyes, especially if you let them slide to the back of his throat until he gags and his eyes get all teary!!! definitely a sight to behold if u start fingerfucking his throat. or maybe just gag him with your panties, letting urself hear his muffled whines and moans as you finally free his cock and deepthroat him <33 oh god his whines and moans... get this man on twitter NEEOOOWWW. as a top he's definitely more goofy about it, not super strict. sex is about making sure you both feel good and just having a good time im his eyes.

GALLAGHER .ᐟ୨୧ ... this man... a certified freak. me personally im not into it but IF U LIKE ANAL THIS IS UR GUY 1000%%%. he def loves ur ass more than anything. the type to stick a finger in as he makes out with you or just let his finger tease the ring of muscle, circling it ever so slowly to feel u squirm while sat naked in his lap. when he eats you out he'll let his tongue drop a little lower to tease both of your holes. if u let him he'll eat your ass with GUSTO. and YES he's using toys on you you're not safe... buttplugs with the cute jewel on them and when you're in public he'll give your ass a slap or squeeze just to see your face change as you feel it press a little deeper into you... he'll have a vibrator fucking into your pussy as he's all up in your guts, laughing at the way you can't even form words right now. yeahhh he's a FREAK. oh and did i mention that he's an ass guy??

SUNDAY .ᐟ୨୧ ohohoho. this man has actual YEARS of pent up sexual frustration under his belt. his wings. whatever. he's a man who thrives off of control, and this is no exception in the bedroom. massive dom. both soft and hard. but more hard <3. really gets off on u calling him sir LAWLLL. lowkey i see him being into some real freaky bdsm stuff... cos hes got the whole sexually repressed catholic thing going on n all yknow. likes seeing u kneeled w your hands tied behind your back. you stripped naked while hes fully clothed and smiling so sweetly as he watches you try and get yourself off by humping his shoe. anything for that power imbalance with him hrrrrng. and if youre feeling a bit more bratty, touch his wings. preen them, blow air on them, even grip onto them HARD with your fingers and it'll get him all riled up. and then that sweet smiling facade will drop and youll see his eyes change into something a touch more feral as he pins u down and fucks u hard and properly. just to remind u who's really in control <3. the aftercare goes crazy, naturally. but then i also saw this post talking abt how hes a PEOPLE PLEASER and i agree 10000% so when he's feeling more soft, your pleasure is his greatest reward. a headrush mix of sweet praise and filthy degradation. telling you how you're a nasty bitch who's just so good for him... how you take him so well like the filthy slut you are.... and he's just so so composed during it all like an ANGEL EHFHWJFJE it makes ur head spin istg. yeah he's a freak in the sheets LOLL

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ...... eat it 'til your teeth rot!

[ SMUT ] how the hsr men eat pussy!

alternatively, find my hsr masterlist here! ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

[thecoochiefairy]

baby phat. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.K word count. blackfem!reader, pregnant!fem reader/kink, drabble, onyankopon, grumpy!onyankopon, sweet!onyakopon, dominant!onyankapon, masturbation, phone/facetime sex, vaginal penetration, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, kinda aggressive dirty talk, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ my brain is foggy from real life so just wanted to give y’all a lil something to leave you hot and bothered. if i gotta suffer, you do too. love you.

THE SCENT OF CASHMERE VANILLA, COCOA BUTTER AND BROWN SUGAR WAS WHAT YOU USUALLY WOKE UP TO. Unfortunately, that scent was missing within the bed. You sat up tiredly as you took a deep breath, raising your fingers over the smooth swell of your belly—you were now eight months pregnant, and your husband wasn’t home as much as you wanted him to be.

With a sigh, you pull yourself out of bed to prepare for the day. Onyankopon had been in contract with the New Orleans Saints for only a couple of months now. Becoming pregnant was an accident—but spending the rest of your life with him wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You’d practically traveled to every part of the state to be there with him for games—a baby wasn’t too far along after. 

The only unfortunate part of this situation was his absence. With him just being signed, he was around the state with press conferences, practices, essentially in the hazing part of his successes. You were happy for him as you knew this was all he wanted, but you missed him, and so did the baby growing inside your belly. 

Thankfully, you did have the support of his mom, who was there for you as if you were her own daughter. She was there to help you with your daily routine—feeding Ony’s two large Dobermans since she was terrified of dogs, going with you to your ultrasound for the day, and dragging you into every store she saw with infant clothes. You enjoyed your time with her—but you still missed Onyankopon. 

It’s not like the two of you didn’t communicate. You had your ways. Texting when he wasn’t busy, phone and video calls into the night, pictures of daily activities, or all of those options in more…intimate times. It opened up a new exploration of your relationship as you were more shy to the nastier suggestions, but as more time was spent away from him, you’d do anything to show how much you missed him. 

Speaking of, it was your favorite time of the day. Your daily phone call with him was closer to the evening time, the sun beginning to set within the state of Louisiana. He was only a couple of hours away as they were in Mississippi, days away from preparing to play their kick off game against Ole Miss—but it felt like he was across the country at this point. 

You adjust the bow that ties against the halter of your yellow sun dress, silver cross sat between the swell of your breasts and constantly hardened nipples due to your hormones. You were going for a more natural route with your hair, flip-over sew-in under midnight black curls, dragging all the way down your back, framing your flushed and freckles cheeks. 

You back yourself up a bit as you’re seated within the master bedroom, blood red IMAC brightening against your caramel skin, camera reflecting back at you as the call rang. When it connected, you were met with the familiarity of his hotel room—seeing as the room was slightly dim, the TV’s light against his brown skin, full lips even more delectable through the grainy camera. His durag protects his hair, goatee connected perfectly, jawline prominent under his stoic gaze. He was edible. 

You wave, “Hi, baby! Can you see me?”

“I can,” he mused. 

His deep timbre voice was comforting as he greeted, “Hey, my pretty ass baby. Look at you,” His eyes flickered over your face, breasts, and your swollen belly, making your thighs press together, “How you’ feeling?”

You sigh, pulling your hair behind your ear, “I’m okay. You’ like my dress?” 

Your voice was soft, already feeling the tiniest bit insecure as you’d just gotten back into form fitting clothes. You’d cried as your body changed in the earlier months.

Onyankopon smirks, shifting on the chair where his knees spread, “Pretty as fuck, Mama. Bout’ to bust that shit open with all that ass,” he grunts, which makes you giggle as he continues, “I miss you.”

“I miss you more, baby,” you exhale, trying not to make yourself upset, “You need to come home soon. Your big ass wolves that you call dogs are scaring your mom.”

“Oh? Now they’ my dogs. You ain’t say all that when you wanted them,” he retorts, licking over his lips.

Your eyes follow the movement of his tongue as you shift on the chair. He looked handsome as ever. You can’t help but stare at his full lips, the small dimple in his cheek, and the dark hue of his eyes as he leans towards the computer desk, pulling out rolling paper as he prepares to roll a blunt. You weren’t sure why, but it was always the sexiest thing to watch.

You blink as your eyes scan the screen, clearing your throat a bit as you raise an eyebrow, “They’ ain’t drug testing y’all?”

Onyankopon shrugs, “It’s preseason, Baby,” he murmurs as he begins to break down the tree on the rolling paper, “Besides, all I’m doing is smoking. That ain’t so bad.”

“Mhm,” you roll your eyes, “Well you better cut that ain’t so bad habit before our little Pumpkin comes,” you run your fingers over your belly.

Your eyes run across his mouth as he licks over his joint, sealing the end, “Don’t call him that shit. That’s my son,” he grabs for his lighter, “My lil’ man been kickin’?”

“Your lil’ football player has been punting in my damn stomach,” you blow out a breath, “He’s moving down to my bladder. If he shifts anymore, imma’ need a walker.”

Your fingers grip around the cross hanging between your breasts, “…You’re my Pumpkin too, y’know.”

A chuckle leaves Onyankopon as he brings his freshly lit joint to his lips, inhaling as he holds off the urge to laugh. A cloud of gray leaves his lips as he blows. 

“He gon’ have my long ass legs.” 

His eyes flicker up momentarily from the screen, making it fog, “You my pumpkin, too,” he repeats back, exhaling into the camera. 

You didn’t want to interrupt as you watched him—the haze of his red eyes already becoming apparent. He’s sexy. Fuck.

Your fingers absentmindedly trail along your belly, feeling your cheeks become warm as you bring your eyes down. You ask softly, “How was practice?”

"We got a new tight end, nigga think he somebody. But besides that, same ol'. Just drills and shit really,” He banters, shifting forward in his chair as he stares up at you, "You know I'm bored as hell right now, Mama." 

You could see the haze in his eyes grow as he slowly takes another hit of his joint—Uh oh. 

You narrow your eyes, curls swaying over your shoulder, “Oh, am I boring you?”

"You?” 

Onyankopon leans back against the chair, exhaling into the computer. He grins a bit as the camera is engulfed in smoke, "Nah. You could never, baby.” 

You watch him with curious eyes as he shifts in the chair, groaning slightly which makes your mind wander—The only thing you could see was his face, shoulders, chest and what you could assume to be his stomach. He wears a white long sleeve, clinging to his muscular frame. You knew all the tattoos that hid under his top. But something was under the computer table…

You give him a soft, awkward smile. You know how he got when he was high. This was your husband, yet he made you nervous like a schoolgirl. 

You then say, “Oh!” Standing as you search for your purse, ass directly within the camera as you question, “I got the ultrasound photos, baby! Wanna see?”

Your husband hums, low and deep as he says back to you, “Mhm,” You feel his lustful eyes on the screen, “Come show me.” 

Your hands tremble as you search, almost excited for him to see the photos. Or maybe you were just nervous—again. 

You drop the brown Telfar on the side of the desk, it only takes you three steps to be in front of your computer again, holding the black and white printout up to the screen. 

You can hear a faint laugh as Onyankopon murmurs once again, “Bring it closer, girl.”

You fully sit down again, leaning forward as you point your acrylic nail against the sonogram, “See, that’s his little toesss, and that’s his little fingers!” you giggle, “You see?”

Onyankopon’s face breaks out into a smile as he groans slightly, “Goddamn. I lied, he got my fingers. Musta’ got your toes, Mama. Can’t see ‘em too good.”

You hum, “Guess he won’t be too good for basketball then,” you tease.

Onyankopon snorts at that as he says, “Basketball she says— You know what? Just ‘cause you said that, he’s not playin no sport. Imma’ get lil’ man his own studio.”

You giggle a bit at that, “My child ain’t finna’ be no damn rapper. You can kill that thought.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s gonna’ be a singer. Got your pretty ass voice, I know it.”

You roll your eyes, “You’ just flirting, boy. Cut it out.”

Onyankopon chuckles at that, but he doesn’t deny it. His eyes fall back to that serious gaze he had before, a soft tint of red within them.

“You’ got me thinking about you.”

His voice, it’s almost like it’s own way of peer pressure. Your hands run over your belly anxiously as you blink, “Me?”

"Yeah,” Your husband draws out, eyes flickering up and down the screen in anticipation, “Don't play all shy.”

You can see him shift in the chair as he leans back, and his eyes stare back at the screen. You can tell he was waiting for something.

At the same time, your body becomes…significantly warm. Before he was signed, you and Onyankopon had sex almost every single day. You couldn’t get enough of each other, never did. Your mind flashes to those memories, and your thighs rub together a bit. At the same time, the door to the master bedroom opens, allowing you to exhale for a second. 

Gray curls come into view, brown skin and familiar eyes that belonged to your mother-in-law. She held a bowl of food with a smile. 

She walked towards the camera, “Hey, Honey-Bun, you alright in here? I made you some jambalaya—“

She pauses, looking towards her son on the camera as her eyes immediately narrow, “I know your big headed ass better put that joint away.” 

Onyankopon groans as his mother comes into view, “Yes ma’am,” he coughs, hovering a fist over his mouth. He was still high—which you could tell based on his flushed appearance and tone. His mother was very anti-weed, so he always tried to hide it as much as possible. You can see some movement under the table, which you assumed was Onyankopon putting the blunt away.

“Why’ the hell do you think it’s a good time to be smoking, Onyankopon? They don’t drug test y’all?”

Oh god. You knew your mother-in-law could easily begin complaining, and you wish she’d walked in at any other time as you placed a calming palm against her arm.

Onyankopon clears his throat, making his face close to the screen so you could really see his eyes, “Ma—Ma. I’m in the preseason. Ain’t got no games for a couple days. They ain’t doin’ that, they ain’t doin’ all that.”

“Preseason? The ‘hell does that mean? Are y’all playing or not? If you’re not playing then why can't you come back home to check on your mother and your pregnant wife?” She comes closer to the camera, you can’t help but sigh lightly to yourself.

Onyankopon groans again as he leans back in the chair, “Momma, I’m not finna’ get into it with you again. You and Baby know. You jus’ gon’ talk over me if I start speakin’ anyway.”

He can’t help but tongue his cheek momentarily, and your heartbeat increases with just his simple movements—but you’re brought back to reality when his mother speaks up even quicker.

“Are you at least eating? Did you get the care package I sent you? I got all your soaps, and that little teddy bear you had as a baby—you never went anywhere without Mr. Snuffles,” which makes you giggle at the familiar toy, something Onyankopon hated being reminded of.

He mumbles, “…I’m good, Momma, got your care packages. Lawd. Stop with all that…” 

“Thank you for the food, Momma,” you give her a smile, “I’m not super hungry at the moment, do you mind leaving it in the fridge?”

Onyankopon’s mom gives a smile back, “Of course. I’m actually gonna head back home for the night, do you need anything else?”

You shake your head, “I’m perfect. Just gonna’ keep talking to Ony for a little while longer.”

Onyankopon sighs as his mother says her goodbyes, exiting out of the room. Now, you notice his eyes flickering up and down your curves, which makes you squirm under the spotlight. Onyankopon then repeats, “I miss you bad as fuck, girl. You miss me?”

You hate yourself for the emotions that produce randomly at times. The conversation between your mother-in-law and Onyankopon, the way he made you easily giggle, the imagery of his warmth surrounding you but not actually being there—it didn’t feel the best. 

The dark fluff of your cat-eye lash extensions flutter as you nod your head, using your knuckles to lightly swipe your watery eyes as you nod, “I miss you so much, Ony…”

Your husband’s face softens slightly. He hated to see you so emotional due to his absence, and would rather be anywhere else. But you always supported his dreams, and wanted to build the perfect life for your baby boy. He mutters, “Stop all that crying, baby. Wipe ya’ face. You know I’ll be back.“

You shakily sigh a bit, nodding your head as you kneel your face down to let the tears fall that way, “I—I know, it’s just hard sleeping without you,” you sniffle, “Lil’ Pumpkin likes when you rub my stomach to sleep…”

Onyankopon sighs, “And I love rubbin’ your stomach, baby.” 

He then says, “Soon as I get back, we gon’ sleep for a whole week. Ain’t nobody gonna’ bother us. I’m all yours.”

Your heartbeat increases—Onyankopon always had a way to make you emotional without even being near. It also made you somewhat…aroused. 

“I miss you like crazy. I miss ya’ voice, I miss ya’ smell. I miss ya’ pu—“ he cuts himself off before he goes into that territory, which makes your body heat up slightly.

You watch as he brings the blunt back up to the camera, pulling another drag of smoke, the move always so efficient as if it was nothing. His eyes are back to being low—it makes you shift your legs again. He cuts on low background music to play, and a familiar song catches your ears, She Will, by Lil Wayne. 

You hum softly, “You love this song.” 

You take a moment to recall why the song gave you such a sense of Deja Vu. But as you remember, you halt.

The memory was at a family event— Onyankopon’s going away party. His family irritated him by being loud, over talking and messy—a black family’s usual antics. He’d managed to sneak downstairs with you to the car for a moment of silence, the two of you smoking, the song faintly playing in the back. You’d…remembered this vividly.

 Your mind glazes over the moans you produced in that backseat, the sound of your skin connecting, your vulnerability, your legs trapped over his shoulders…

Your mind comes back to reality as you’ve been watching him this whole time. Your hand had somehow made its way to your chest…rubbing over your exposed skin, clutching your pendant again. 

“Mama,” Onyankopon murmurs as he brings another drag of the blunt back on camera, blowing the smoke into screen as he spins back to his sentence earlier, “‘Got me thinking about you bad as fuck.” 

He was high as hell.

Your eyes run over his large silhouette as he leans back against the chair, knees spreading out further as he makes himself comfortable, head tilting back a bit as he watches you. 

Your mind wanders again, back to that song—back to that night. Your mind can’t stop. Your head is spinning with the memories, it physically makes you whimper, squeezing your thighs, tugging your pendant fully.

Your husband’s gaze grows in lust as he leans forward a bit, whispering, “Talk to me. Whatchu’ thinkin’ about?”

The hand clutched around your pendant squeezes a bit tighter as you glance towards the camera, “The song…makes me think of that night in the car…” you softly admit, rubbing your fingers over your collar bone, your fingertips bringing you warmth.

 He brings the blunt back on camera again before a stream of clouds leaves his lips, “You miss that night, Mama?”

You nod your head, your entire body now hot. You could feel your nipples poking through your top again, aching in a way that almost becomes painful. Your thighs are so tightly together, as you adjust the seating position, you grind against yourself a bit, making the tiniest gasp pull from your lips.

Onyankopon groans through the screen, and you can hear his voice say, “You in our bedroom?” 

He was becoming impatient.

"Go to it. On the bed," he murmurs, "Hurry up.”

“Too far from you, Ony,” you pout, bringing your hands against your breast, giving a squeeze to them, trying to relive how full they feel.

There's a pause before a deep exhale leaves his lips. His tone goes deep again, "Go."

You shudder as you stand, your legs feeling numb. You tilt the monitor more towards the king sized bed, silky black comforter set along the oversized mattress. You crawl along the sheets, turning towards him again, your knees along the bed as your dress begins to hike against your soft thighs.

His eyes flicker downward at you, and you can feel his gaze run up your smooth, caramel skin. His gaze burns into yours, giving an intense look. 

You hear his voice again, “You gon’ do what I say?”

You nod your head, lightly digging your teeth against the pink of your soft lips.

“Always listen to you, Ony…”

Your man growls, “That’s right, ‘cause you good. You gon’ be good for me?”

Your hands squeeze the flesh of your breast, your nipples never being this sensitive before your pregnancy. You gasp in a soft tone, but the sound is heavier. You nod your head, “Bought something I w—wanna show you…”

You hear his breathing pick up, “Yeah? Show me,” he murmurs. “You look so muhfuckin’ good right now, baby.”

You reach behind you as you pull a toy from under the pillow—it’s pink, silicone, almost looking like glass. Big, just as big as him. 

“Pretty like you, Daddy…”

"Look at that," You hear a deep noise escape his lips before there's a shuffling noise, you couldn't exactly make out what it was—then it was followed by another noise. This one you recognized; the strings of his sweatpants. His dark pink tip slaps along the sculpted muscle of his stomach, practically making your mouth water. 

“You like it?” You ask softly.

 You take the object and graze it lightly along your body, seating yourself fully along the bed. You’re at the most perfect angle to spread your legs.

“Yeah, baby,” he grunts, letting more of his body come into view as he’s in a reclined position. You can begin to see his toned chest come into view when there's some shuffling noises again, his breathing picking up, “Love it.” 

You pull at the string of your dress, letting the halter fall over the swell of your belly, material hanging in between your stomach and hips. You were now bare at the top, hair swaying over your body and face as you shuddered a bit, “They’re starting to fill with milk, baby… sensitive…”

You can hear a deep, deep groan echo in the screen, almost sounding frustrated, “Fuck. You’ playing right now. Put that shit in your mouth.”

You bring the toy up to your mouth, spreading your full lips apart as you let it slide on your tongue, coating it with your saliva. At the same time, you spread your legs, showing off the glistening arousal bedaubed on your pussy. You were wet. 

“Fuck, baby....” he growls lowly, beginning to stroke himself, “Pussy so pretty. I can feel that shit on my tongue. I’m just slurping your shit up.” 

 His voice is rough with desire, each word punctuated by a squeeze of his fist around his thick tip. 

“Get you’ a pillow for your lower back, baby. ‘Know it hurts sometimes.”

You listen, pulling the satin pillow behind you for a bit of support, feeling the small ache in your back beginning to decrease. 

“Comfortable, Mama?” He questions, you nod your head.

“Good. Rub that dick all over your clit.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you imagine his lips dropping kisses against your clit. He’d go from your inner thighs, teasing you. He’d watch as you’d squirm with every suckle of your skin, your entire body shuddering as his hot breath fanned over the hood covering the pink nub, being pulled up by his lips, being kissed by his tongue. You brush the toy against your clit that throbs, spreading your legs a little more as you whimper, lightly dragging the tip in circles on your upper pussy. The sound it makes, your pussy keens.

His hand begins to pick up speed as he pumps through his fist, “You like that, huh? Rubbing this big ass dick all over your clit?” He grunts, his voice strained with pleasure, “Slap that shit on your pussy. Get them’ pretty ass eyes rolling back."

He knew everything about your body. Including the way you’d spasm at this action, so you listened, slapping the heavy toy against your clit, your legs trembling in response, eyes rolling to the back or your head. You groan a bit, head falling back, eyes fluttering before you bring your attention back to your arousal that pools beneath your thighs, pulling your legs wider to show the gummy pink of your pussy. 

The anticipation builds as you tease yourself, circling your clit with the toy, then dipping it inside your opening just enough before withdrawing again.

“Why that shit so fuckin’ wet already?” His jaw clenches, head tilting back, fist rotating on his tip, dragging down every couple of seconds.

Your folds wrap around the toy every millisecond as you slide the outsides of it against yourself, teasing so much that your eyes haven’t stopped rolling back. 

The swell of your belly shifts a bit as you whine softly, “Ony…” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, “Ain’t even put that shit in yet. Where’ my lil’ nasty bitch at? She would’ve been droolin’, dropping herself all on my dick. Just drenching my shit. Quit playing.”

“Right here,” you whimper, nodding your head, digging your teeth back into the plump of your lips. Instead of dipping the toy in to tease yourself, you take a palm to pull one of your legs up in the air, using your other hand to drag the toy towards your opening, separating the aching stretch of your folds as you begin sinking it’s tip inside. 

You’re gasping as you watch it go in, unable to see more, yet you feel every inch swelling your walls, disappearing under the sight of your large belly. 

You whimper, “It’s in there, baby.” 

"Get it all the way in, baby. Bury that shit deep," he commands, pumping faster now, his breathing ragged. You’re dropping it in, inch by inch, your inhale deep as you pull it halfway out, toes curling as you sink it back in, an air pocket gushing as your arousal sops around the pink toy. 

Your eyes are fluttering chaotically as you shudder, “Fuck,  agh—“ you don’t stop, fist brushing over your clit as you’re dropping it down into you.

He’s talking, "You remember when we first met? Couldn’t even handle my fingers. Now look at you,” A low chuckle escapes him, "Now I got you stretching that pussy out. Dick just drop, drop, dropping in that shit…”

His words trail off into a grunt as he quickens his strokes, “You my lil’ freaky ass bitch, huh?”

You whimper, pouting at the way your pussy cries its tears, sobbing out in waves of arousal that pool each time you pull the toy out, painting the pink silicone white. You squeal lightly as its balls slap against the outside of your pussy, the fleshy sound splattering up more of your wetness as you petulantly whine, “Yeah, Ony…”

"That's right, baby. Take that shit like a good lil' slut," he says, voice dripping with lust as he watches you work the toy deep inside yourself, “Rubbing that pretty ass clit while you're stuffed. Fuck, you look so damn good."

He picks up pace, stroking harder and faster as he nears his own climax, “Gonna give you all this fuckin’ nut. You want it?”

“Want it,” you tremble, in and out, the toy’s just going in you at this point, disappearing without a trace, lost in your pussy. You’re just gushing. The sound is like a mouth blowing raspberries into one’s palm, fleshy, nasty.

“Can’t cum without you,” you pout, “Need you….I need you,” you’re opening your mouth, the sob coming deep from your chest, fucking yourself even harder, one leg shaking violently as it’s held in the air, eyes possessed as they’re rotating. You loved these moments—but they were never enough. Not even for him. 

“You don’t need nothing,” He groans, his words coming out more raspy, “Keep that pussy wet as fuck. I’m coming.”