#schlatt. step on me

[klintoris]

Keep going im close….

[shobe-sandwitch]

jschlatt is at fwa and he went to the 18+ moonlight festival and saw me getting groped by an older woman

[sinnlos-star]

@dixidin

i just know she runs that cabinet like the fucking navy

[slattlicker]

Imagine, if you will, virgin gf whos just so fucking horny for Schlatt, girl is down BAD, for this man so much so that Schlatt has to be like “woah hey let’s slow down okay dont wanna hurt yourself toots” (Toots🤤🤤) and has to like pin (gently but still pinning) you down and talk to you in that like (idk what to call it) like “gentle parent” (???) voice so you don’t hurt yourself cause hes just so BIG and he could also probably potentially hurt a partner who HAS had sex before cause of his size so his partner whose never had sex? Oh hes terrified he might tear you in half of he isn’t careful.

╭﹐✦˚₊· 𖤐 * baby’s first time ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ╮ imagine: third date. a movie. a kiss. a girl too far gone to think straight—and a man trying his hardest not to ruin her. ╰﹒♡₊˚๑ *✧﹒✦ ࣪ ˖ ┊

﹒₊✦ a/n: inspired by a not-so-little ask about a virgin reader down bad for schlatt ♡ i may have wandered into tenderness territory, and,,, i'm not sorry!!

warnings: explicit content (MDNI !!!) · virgin reader · size kink · dom/sub dynamics (soft) · thigh riding · fingering · handjob · creampie · aftercare

enjoy, ma luvs ♡

✧✧✧

the door clicks open, and schlatt steps aside like he’s done this a hundred times before.

“welcome to casa de big guy,” he says dryly. “wipe your feet, don’t judge the furniture, and if anything smells like axe body spray, it wasn’t me.”

you laugh, stepping inside. “real strong opening. totally reassuring.”

his place is… honestly, kind of nice. not in a curated, architectural digest way. just warm. lived in. the couch is stupidly big, the rug doesn’t match, and there’s an open bottle of something expensive on the kitchen counter. but it feels like him.

he closes the door behind you. “you want a drink?”

you nod. “water’s fine.”

“boring,” he says, already heading to the kitchen. “love that.”

you roll your eyes and tug off your shoes. he’s still in his button-up from dinner, sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone. the chain at his neck catches the light when he moves, and your brain short-circuits just a little.

you perch on the edge of the couch. try not to look like you’re imagining things you absolutely shouldn’t be imagining this early into a relationship.

he brings you a bottle of water and flops down beside you like gravity owes him something.

“so,” he says, stretching out with one arm behind you, “movie or mario kart?”

you glance at him. “you’re letting me choose?”

“no,” he says. “just seeing what you’d pick before i put on something i like.”

you scoff. “you’re the worst.”

he grins—wide and smug. “yeah, but i’ve got surround sound.”

you snatch the remote before he can reach for it.

“put on something you like,” you say innocently. “let me see what kind of freak you really are.”

he gives you a look. the kind that makes your stomach flip.

“careful,” he says, leaning back, spreading his legs just slightly. “you might find out.”

you raise a brow. “oh no. not—i mean, your taste.”

schlatt laughs, low and lazy. “you think i’ve got bad taste, toots?”

“i think you have questionable judgment and a subscription to every streaming service but HBO.”

“jealousy’s ugly on you,” he mutters, shifting closer, one hand sliding behind your neck like it’s nothing. “good thing you look cute in everything else.”

your breath catches.

that look in his eyes—just amused enough to be dangerous—makes it hard to think.

he leans in slow, gives you enough time to pull away.

but you don’t.

he leans in, and when those lips meet yours—it’s not just a peck. it’s hungry. it’s claiming. it’s everything you’ve been craving since date one.

your fingers tangle in his shirt. his hand cups your jaw. every nerve in your body jumps.

you press closer, breath colliding, wanting it to go further—but just as you're about to lose control, he pulls back.

with the most smug ass smile you've ever encountered.

you’re blinking, breath caught, body still hot.

he taps your water bottle like he’s reminding you to hydrate. “told you i’ve got taste.”

you stare at him, deflated and fired up all at once.

he picks up the remote again. turns the volume up. settles back.

“so,” he says. "movie."

✧✧✧

you’re nestled into the corner of the couch now, tucked under his arm, legs draped over his lap like you’ve done this a hundred times.

the movie plays—low volume, muted light, something with a plot you’re not following.

you’re too focused on the way his thumb brushes the inside of your arm. the occasional squeeze at your waist. the weight of him beneath you.

you’re warm. a little sleepy. a lot horny.

and without realizing it, you start to move.

just the tiniest roll of your hips. back into his thigh.

barely anything.

but the friction makes your breath hitch.

you do it again.

and again.

you don’t even know you’re doing it until he shifts slightly beneath you—just enough to make you freeze.

“…you good, toots?”

your eyes snap open. “what?”

he tilts his head down, chin brushing your temple. his voice is low, soft. amused.

“you keep grinding on my leg like you’re trying to make coffee or something."

you go completely still.

a beat passes. then another.

and then—humiliated—you bury your face in his chest with a groan.

“oh my god. i wasn’t—i didn’t mean to—”

his hand rubs your back slowly. “i know.”

you peek up at him, mortified. “please tell me you’re not mad.”

“mad?” he huffs a laugh and grabs the remote, clicking the movie off. “sweetheart, i’m flattered.”

he sets the remote aside, then shifts so he can face you more fully. one arm still around your waist. the other rubbing your thigh—gentle, slow.

“but listen,” he murmurs. “i gotta be honest with you, alright?”

your stomach flips.

“yeah?” you ask, quiet.

his gaze drops—thigh, hand, then back to you.

“i’ve been doing this a long time,” he says, voice low and even. “you haven’t. i know that.”

you go a little rigid in his lap. “did i… say that?”

he huffs a laugh—low and knowing. “you didn’t have to.”

“okay, well—” you sit up straighter, shrug like it’s no big deal. “i mean, i’m not completely inexperienced—”

“no?”

“i’ve done stuff.”

“stuff.”

“yes, stuff.”

he tilts his head. “like?”

you blink. “like—like things.”

he’s smiling now. “specific things?”

“god, why are you interrogating me—”

“because you keep lying, sweetheart,” he says, gently. “and you’re really, really bad at it.”

you sputter. “i’m not—i’m not lying—”

“you moaned when i kissed your neck. Once. and your whole body went stiff the second my hand hit your thigh.” he leans in, eyes dark. “you haven’t done anything.”

you go silent.

he softens. “that’s not a problem. it’s just a fact.”

you glance away—embarrassed.

“...i didn’t want to seem totally clueless.”

“baby. i like you clueless.” he cups your jaw, tilts your face back to his. “i’m not tryna scare you off. i just—look, i’m a big guy. and i can be rough without meaning to. so if we’re gonna do this—if you ever wanna go there—i gotta know it’s not just because you’re all worked up and desperate for it. i gotta know it’s you. choosing it.”

you blink.

heart hammering.

because this is not what you expected.

he smiles a little at your expression. “that surprise you?”

you nod slowly. “i just—i didn’t think you’d care.”

his brow lifts. “toots,” he mutters. “you think i’m gonna risk splitting you in half just so i can blow my load five minutes faster?”

your face burns.

but you laugh, burying your face in his chest again.

he wraps both arms around you now. holding you close.

“tell me what you want, baby,” he says, voice lower now. slower. “not what you think i wanna hear. what you want.”

you swallow.

“i don’t know,” you whisper. “i just… i wanna feel you.”

he hums.

and you feel it—in his chest, under your hands.

“yeah?” he says softly. “you think you’re ready for that?”

you nod, but it’s hesitant. you’re still tucked close. still trembling a little.

he pulls back just enough to look at you.

his eyes are soft, but there’s heat behind them. serious heat.

“you ever ridden a thigh before?”

you blink. “ridden a… what?”

his lips twitch. “that’s a no.”

“i didn’t say no,” you protest, even as your brain scrambles for anything close. “i just—I mean, it’s not exactly common—”

“it is when you know what you’re doing.”

you stare at him. “and you just… sit on it?”

he chuckles. “no, baby. you grind.”

your mouth goes dry. “oh.”

he raises a brow, watching the realization hit you. “still wanna try?”

your throat’s dry. your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt.

you nod.

“yeah,” you whisper. “okay.”

his smile is small. quiet. something between gentle and dangerous.

“attagirl.” he shifts beneath you, spreading his legs a little wider, patting his thigh. “c’mon, sweetheart. right here.”

you crawl over hesitantly, face burning, nerves crawling under your skin. the second your knees settle on either side of his leg, you realize just how big he really is.

your core is barely brushing his thigh.

you’re not even fully seated and you already feel stretched—high up, slightly off balance, comically small on top of him.

“is this… okay?” you ask quietly, looking down at him. “like—am i doing it right?”

he smiles—lazy, warm, and just a little crooked. his hands settle lightly on your hips.

“you’re perfect,” he says, thumbs stroking circles into your skin. “we’ll get you there.”

you start to move—tentative, cautious, rocking your hips forward just a little. the friction is barely there, but it already lights something up in your belly.

you shift again, trying to roll your hips in a smoother motion.

“…is this how you do it?” you ask. “i feel like i’m not…”

schlatt cuts you off with a quiet hum, and his hands tighten just slightly.

“hey. you don’t gotta know how,” he murmurs. “that’s what i’m here for.”

he lifts his thigh just a little under you, adjusting the pressure, guiding you forward with a slow tug at your hips.

“try that.”

you gasp. the contact is better. more direct.

“oh—oh, okay…”

you keep going. a little clumsier than you’d like. shifting, huffing, trying not to grind down too hard.

you look at him again. “sorry—i’m just—i don’t wanna mess it up.”

he chuckles under his breath, voice low and thick.

“baby, you’re not gonna break anything,” he says.

“but—you're so—i mean, your leg is—”

he tilts his head, smirking.

“what? big?”

you nod, mortified. “yeah. that.”

his voice dips even lower. “you ever stop to think what the rest of me might do to you if we’re not careful?”

your breath catches. you can’t answer.

he leans forward, mouth brushing your ear.

“trust me, toots,” he whispers. “you’re doin’ just fine.”

you’re trying—god, you’re trying—but every shift of your hips feels clumsy. your thighs are already shaking, and you can’t tell if it’s from the effort or the nerves or the fact that his hands haven’t left your waist since he put you there.

“i—i don’t know if i’m doing this right,” you mumble. “it feels good, but it’s not—like—how it’s supposed to be, right?”

schlatt’s eyes narrow slightly. not annoyed—just watching. reading you.

he shifts under you again, thigh flexing between your legs, dragging right where you need it.

“sweetheart,” he says, voice low and slow, “look at me.”

you do. hesitant. flushed. bottom lip caught between your teeth.

his hand cups your jaw gently—thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, just enough to make you still.

“you’re not here to perform,” he murmurs. “you’re here to feel. and feel good. got it?”

you nod, barely breathing.

“good girl.”

your breath hitches.

“you feel how wet you are right now?” he asks, one hand sliding from your waist to between your legs—pressing you down harder onto his thigh. you gasp. your hands clench at his shoulders.

“that’s what i care about,” he mutters. “not rhythm. not looking cute. just you, soaking my leg like it’s the only thing that’s ever made you feel good.”

you whimper, and he grins, a flash of teeth.

“yeah, that’s better,” he says. “that’s my girl.”

your hips start moving again. this time instinctively. not polished. not graceful. just needy.

“you hear those sounds you’re making?” he breathes, eyes locked on you. “you think i give a fuck how ‘right’ your hips are moving when you’re whimpering like that on my leg?”

your eyes flutter closed, head tipping back, and he grabs your waist again, guiding you now—gentle but firm.

“don’t stop now, baby,” he murmurs. “you’re doin’ perfect. get what you need from me.”

you’re getting there.

fast.

too fast.

your hips are stuttering now—small, frantic rolls, thighs trembling as you grind down hard enough that the seam of your underwear is soaked through.

and still, his hands stay on you. firm. supportive. in charge.

“you gonna come like this?” he asks, voice a rough whisper against your ear. “just from my thigh?”

you nod—desperate, whimpering.

“i—i think so—feels so good—”

“you poor little thing,” he mutters, teeth brushing your cheek. “you wanna come that bad? just like that? just from rubbing yourself on me?”

your breath hitches. your hands claw at his shirt.

and then—

he stops you.

big hands wrapping tight around your waist, lifting you off his thigh before you can fall over that edge.

you whine—loudly—hips twitching, eyes wide, clit pulsing and unsatisfied.

“wha—why—?! schlatt—”

“uh-uh,” he cuts you off, voice calm but firm. “i felt you getting close. didn’t say you could come, did i?”

you shake your head, nearly crying with frustration.

he shifts you in his lap, laying you back gently against the cushions, kneeling between your legs now. and you feel it—how big he is, crouched over you, gaze dark, hands trailing slow up your thighs.

“you know what your problem is, baby?”

you shake your head, still breathing hard.

“you’re too busy thinking about what it’d be like to ride me,” he murmurs, hand sliding between your legs again. “aren’t you?”

your eyes go wide.

he chuckles—dark and amused.

“you were fuckin’ fantasizing. thinking about how good i’d feel inside you. weren’t you?”

you nod helplessly.

“yeah. that’s what i thought.” he hums. “bet you got a whole little movie going in your head, me on top of you. me inside you. ruining that tight little pussy before you even know what to do with it.”

you squirm under his gaze, but he’s already tugging at the tie around your waist. undoing your dress like it’s a gift he’s taking his sweet time unwrapping.

✧✧✧

“you don’t even know what you’re asking for, do you?”

you shake your head, breath shaky. “i just—i want to feel you.”

his expression softens—but only slightly.

“you will,” he says. “but you’re gonna feel my fingers first.”

he pulls your panties aside, thick fingers brushing through your soaked folds. you gasp—hips lifting instinctively.

“you’re so wet, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “all from my thigh? from grinding like a needy little thing?”

you nod, helpless.

he slips one finger in—slowly. carefully.

you moan—high and shocked, head tipping back.

“god, you’re tight,” he breathes. “clenching already and it’s just one.”

his free hand presses gently on your belly, keeping you grounded.

“this okay?” he asks. “want me to keep going?”

you nod frantically. “please, sir—”

he smiles at that. then adds a second finger.

you cry out, legs twitching as he stretches you open—slow, steady, mercilessly gentle.

he leans in close, voice right at your ear.

“you feel stretched?” he murmurs, voice low.

you nod, lips parted, struggling to stay still.

“mm.” he smirks. “and that’s just two fingers, toots.”

his other hand trails down your thigh, thumb stroking your skin like a reward. like praise. but his tone stays calm, clinical, almost condescending.

“you’re squeezin’ so tight, i can barely move,” he says. “and you were thinkin’ you could take my cock?”

you moan again—helpless, humiliated.

he chuckles softly. “gonna hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re not even close. maybe if you were able to take four...”

his fingers press in deeper, curling just right—and you jolt, crying out, hands gripping the cushions like lifelines.

“shit—okay—okay—”

“you feel that?” he breathes. “that’s what a fraction of me feels like.”

you blink up at him, glassy-eyed. his shirt’s still buttoned, collar open. he hasn’t even rolled his sleeves down. meanwhile, you’re wrecked—basically naked, needy, completely undone.

he leans in, mouth at your ear.

“you’re not takin’ my cock, baby. you’re takin’ my fingers, and barely that.”

you whimper, shame heating your skin.

“and you’re doin’ your best, you are,” he soothes, voice soft now—mockingly tender. “but if i tried to fuck you tonight? you’d cry just from the tip.”

your hips twitch. you hate how wet you are from that—how your cunt clenches around his fingers like it agrees.

he feels it.

“ohhh,” he breathes, grinning. “you like that idea?”

you try to look away.

his hand grabs your jaw—gentle, but firm—and turns you back to face him.

“don’t look away now,” he murmurs. “you just squeezed around my fingers like that was the best fuckin’ thing you ever heard.”

you swallow hard, lips parted, heart slamming in your chest.

“you like the idea of crying on it, don’t you?” he presses, voice low. “sittin’ in my lap, all cockdrunk and teary, beggin’ me not to put the rest in?”

you whimper.

and that makes him grin. slow. cruel.

“jesus. you been thinkin’ about that for a while, haven’t you?”

you nod—helpless.

“how long?”

you blink, trying to gather words—but you can’t.

so he curls his fingers just right, and you gasp—back arching, thighs twitching.

“c’mon, toots,” he says, soft and coaxing. “use that mouth. tell me.”

you breathe, high and shaky. “since… our first date.”

that stuns him for a second. his brows lift—just a flicker of disbelief.

“first date?” he echoes, lips twitching. “we split a pizza and you were already thinkin’ about gettin’ split open?”

you cover your face, humiliated. “i didn’t know it’d be like this.”

he pulls your hand away—still grinning, still wrecking you with just the look in his eyes.

“like what?”

“big,” you whisper. “so big.”

his grin deepens, fingers dragging slow and deep, hitting a spot that makes your hips jerk.

“haven’t even shown you yet,” he murmurs. “but you’ve been thinkin’ about it—how wide you’d have to stretch. how it’d feel when i finally push in. that right?”

you nod, eyes wet, lips trembling. “mm-hm.”

he leans in—voice low, coaxing, wrecked.

“and now you know,” he breathes. “now you really know what you’re beggin’ for.”

then his thumb finds your clit again—circling firm, slow, devastating—and your whole body locks up.

“go on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, lips brushing your cheek. “come for me. just like this. just from my fingers.”

you shatter—body seizing, legs shaking, hands scrabbling for anything to hold onto. his wrist. the couch. the air. your cry breaks in your throat.

he groans low, thumb easing up, fingers still deep, drawing it out as long as he can.

“that’s it,” he whispers. “good girl. there you go.”

and then, slowly, finally, he slips his fingers out.

you whimper at the loss.

he brings them to his mouth.

licks them clean.

eyes never leaving yours.

you swallow hard, flushed and shaking and so far gone—but when he starts reaching for the throw blanket draped over the back of the couch, you blink.

“…what are you doing?”

he tilts his head, amused. “trying to wrap you up before you fall asleep sittin’ in your own afterglow.”

you frown—confused, needy, offended. “you’re just… done?”

schlatt pauses, blanket still half-unfolded. “i mean—yeah?” he says, hesitant. “was kinda hopin’ to get you cozy again…maybe finish the movie, head to bed…”

you stare at him, lips parted. “but i don’t want to sleep.”

his brow furrows. “toots…”

“no, i’m serious.” you sit up, pulling your shirt down as best you can—not that it helps, considering your whole body’s still humming from his fingers. “i don’t want to stop. not yet.”

“you just came so hard i thought you forgot your name,” he says, voice rough but not unkind. “i figured you’d wanna—”

“i didn’t come here to nap on your couch,” you say, more force behind your words now. “i came here because i like you. because i trust you. and because i knew if you touched me—really touched me—it was gonna feel this good.”

he doesn’t speak.

so you go on, cheeks burning:

“i’ve been wanting you for weeks, schlatt. but if you’re not into it—if you think i’m just some wide-eyed virgin who can’t handle you—then say that. but don’t sit there and act like you don’t want me when you’ve got a goddamn tent in your jeans.”

that makes him snort—actually snort—but the sound is low and almost pained.

he rubs the back of his neck, looking away for a beat before meeting your eyes again.

“fuck, toots,” he mutters. “it’s not that i don’t want you. jesus. believe me, i do. i’m dying over here.”

“then what?” you ask, quieter now.

his jaw ticks. “i’m tryin’ not to be the asshole who rushes a girl into something she’ll regret. especially one who’s never done it before. especially you.”

you sit still for a moment. swallow hard. then:

“i’m not rushing. i’m asking. and i’m not trying to jump straight into sex. i just… i wanna see you. i wanna touch you. i wanna make you feel good, too.”

his breath hitches.

you shift closer. rest a hand over his. “let me?”

he stares at you—searching. maybe for fear, maybe for hesitation?

but he finds neither.

“…alright,” he says, voice lower than before. “we’ll take it slow."

you nod.

and then?

he leans back on the couch and spreads his thighs—just a little.

“then c’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “you wanted to touch?”

you nod again—heart pounding.

“be gentle with it, now,” he adds, undoing his jeans. “he’s not used to sweet girls with tiny little hands.”

schlatt undoes his jeans slow, deliberate—like he’s still giving you time to change your mind.

you don’t.

can’t.

not with the way your mouth’s gone dry and your thighs are already pressing together again.

he shoves the denim down his thighs and leans back, boxers tented—massively—the outline of him enough to make your breath catch.

and then, finally, he tugs the waistband down.

you suck in a breath.

jesus.

he’s huge.

long and heavy, flushed dark at the tip, veined and thick and impossibly real. he’s hard—painfully hard—and lying against his stomach like he knows damn well you’re staring.

and you are.

because your mind’s blank.

wiped.

replaced with the single, earth-shattering thought:

there’s no way that’s fitting inside me.

but you want to try.

and then?

you notice it.

a glint of silver.

pierced—through the underside of the head. a smooth, shining barbell catching the soft lamp light, nestled against all that flushed skin like it belongs there.

your thighs press tighter.

“holy shit,” you whisper.

he raises a brow, cocky but cautious. “too much?”

you shake your head violently.

“no. no, i just—” you blink, still stunned. “it’s just… bigger than i thought. and the piercing…”

he smirks. “didn’t peg you for the kind who’d like that.”

you lick your lips. “i didn’t know i liked it.”

he lets out a low, breathless chuckle. “fuck, you’re cute.”

you reach out—hesitant at first—until your fingers brush against his length, and he exhales hard through his nose.

“careful,” he mutters. “he’s shy.”

you glance up, wide-eyed.

he’s already watching you, his gaze dark and steady, one arm thrown over the back of the couch like he’s trying to look casual—but the flex of his thigh beneath your knee gives him away.

you wrap your hand around him, featherlight.

his breath catches. “a little tighter, baby.”

you squeeze—barely.

he groans. “yeah. just like that.”

you pump once, twice, awkward and unsure. “am i…?”

“you’re doin’ so good,” he says, voice rough. “just keep goin’. nice and slow.”

you bite your lip and keep your eyes on your hand, watching the way his skin shifts, how your fingers don’t quite close all the way around.

god, he’s thick.

he guides you gently—fingers curling over yours, setting the pace, the rhythm.

“that’s it,” he murmurs. “easy, yeah? keep your hand right there—good girl.”

the praise makes your stomach flutter.

you pump again, smoother now. his hips twitch—just a little—and he sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“try twisting your wrist a little at the top,” he says, almost too calmly. “not too much. just—fuck, yeah, like that.”

you look up at him again, half-proud, half-hungry.

his jaw’s tight. he’s breathing hard. and the muscle in his thigh jumps every time you give him a firmer stroke.

you’re learning fast.

another slow pump and there it is—a bead of slick, glistening at the tip.

you blink.

then, without thinking, you lean in and press a kitten lick to it—light, curious, reverent.

he chokes.

“jesus—fuck, baby—”

you flinch back. “sorry! i didn’t—was that—?”

he huffs a breath, eyes squeezing shut like he’s trying to reset the entire planet.

“no, that was—shit, that was perfect. you’re so fucking perfect.”

you glance down again.

still curious.

still hungry.

you lean in—and this time, you press your tongue flat to the base and drag it all the way up. slow. careful. lingering at the tip with another kitten lick, like it’s instinct.

he bucks.

actually bucks.

“fuck, baby—!”

you sit back again, blinking up at him, lips slick, proud and a little uncertain.

“…did i mess up?”

he stares at you like you’ve just reinvented sex. like he can’t decide if he’s terrified or in love.

then you do it again.

same motion.

same wide eyes looking up at him.

his hand shoots out—grabs the base of his cock like it’s the only thing keeping him from losing it all over your pretty, determined face.

“okay,” he rasps. “okay, that’s enough.”

you pout. “why?”

he looks wrecked. cheeks flushed, hair mussed, thighs tensed like steel under you.

“because if you do that one more fucking time,” he growls, “i’m gonna come so hard i black out, and that’s not how i wanna finish this date.”

you blink. then slowly smile.

“…so i’m good at it?”

“sweetheart,” he huffs, tugging you into his lap again, “you’re a goddamn menace.”

he tucks you into his lap like muscle memory—your bare thighs stretched over denim, your flushed face resting against his shoulder.

his cock is still hard, still leaking, still angry at the denial.

you squirm once and feel it press against your stomach.

“…can i try?” you whisper, voice small but sure.

he stills.

“...try what, baby?”

you don’t look at him. “…taking you. at least a little.”

he goes quiet. one long beat. then another.

“you sure?” he asks finally—low, serious.

you nod. “i just… wanna see. i wanna try. i know it might not go all the way, but—”

“but you want to know how it feels,” he finishes for you, voice gentling. “you wanna feel us.”

you nod again.

he sighs like he’s aging a decade on the spot, but you catch the way his arms tighten around your waist—like he’s already imagining it.

“…we’re goin’ slow,” he warns.

“okay.”

“and the second it’s too much, you tell me.”

“okay.”

he looks at you for a moment—long and steady—like he’s memorizing the curve of your face.

then: “all right, sweetheart.”

you sit up.

and he leans back.

cock thick and flushed, resting against his stomach like it’s just waiting for you.

you swing a leg over, settling above him, shaky hands bracing on his chest.

“you’re gonna guide it,” he murmurs. “take your time.”

you reach down, wrap your hand around him again—he twitches in your grip—and you line him up to your entrance, already slick and fluttering and so ready.

your breath catches.

his hands come up to your hips.

“i got you,” he whispers. “don’t rush. just—go as far as you can handle, baby.”

you nod, eyes fluttering.

and slowly—so slowly—you start to sink.

the head presses in and it’s already a stretch.

you gasp.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he grits out. “jesus, you feel like a vice.”

you whimper. but don’t stop.

“an inch more, maybe,” he murmurs, watching your face. “that’s it.”

you exhale shakily.

but you want more.

your thighs tremble as you inch lower, one centimeter at a time, cunt pulling him in greedily even as your body resists.

“good girl,” he whispers, voice raw. “just like that. that’s it, sweetheart. you’re doin’ perfect.”

you make it about halfway before your body stalls and the pressure inside you starts to burn.

it’s too much.

but also—not enough.

you brace your hands on his chest, panting, thighs trembling, walls clutching him like you’re scared to let go.

“shit, baby,” he grits, hands hovering like he’s torn between helping you up or holding you down. “you—you can stop now. that’s already so much—”

you nod. you try.

you lift your hips—just barely—

but the friction is molten.

you gasp—then drop right back down with a helpless cry.

his groan punches out of him, ragged and low. your eyes fly to his.

wide. stunned. wrecked.

you grind again. shallow. experimental.

both of you moan.

“oh,” you whisper.

“fuck me,” he breathes. “do that again.”

you do.

rocking in slow, shaky circles—just halfway down, just where it feels good.

his fingers dig into your hips like anchors, his chest rising hard beneath your palms.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, voice wrecked. “you’re riding just the tip—”

“not the tip,” you pant, biting down on your lip. “i got halfway.”

he huffs a breathless laugh, brushing a hand through his hair as he looks at you—flushed, trembling, perfect.

“yeah, baby,” he says, voice rough. “you fuckin’ did. and you feel unreal.”

his hands slide lower—settling on your hips again, firm but steady. “slow it down a sec,” he murmurs, coaxing your movement into something smaller. “not just back and forth—try…rollin’ your hips. yeah, like that.”

you follow his guidance, circling your hips slowly, shallowly, and your breath stutters out at the way it drags him inside you.

“feel that?” he asks—low, careful, watching your face. “better?”

you nod, a little dazed. “s’good,” you whisper. “i—i didn’t know it could feel like this…”

“mm,” he hums, guiding you through another slow grind. “it’s different for everyone. different positions, different angles. but this—this one’s good for you, huh?”

“yeah,” you breathe. “yeah, it’s—fuck, schlatt—”

his eyes flutter shut for a second, like he’s trying to hold himself together. “legs okay?” he murmurs. “you need a break?”

they’re shaking, but not in pain. you shift a little and shake your head a bit, side to side. “just tired.”

you whimper. your head tips back, mouth falling open, cunt fluttering around him with every slow drag of your hips.

“can’t think, can you?” he murmurs, voice a gravelly purr. “too full to think. you like bein’ dumb on my cock, sweetheart?”

you nod. frantic this time. you do.

he chuckles—hoarse, wrecked.

“you’re so fuckin’ tight like this,” he groans. “fuck—every time you move, i feel your pussy pulling at me.”

you try to answer, but it comes out a whine.

“drunk on it already?” he teases, and his hand slides down—rubbing slow circles over your clit. “and i’m not even all the way in.”

that makes your whole body twitch. you bite your lip. squirm a little.

“i—maybe i can—”

“no,” he says gently, pressing his thumb a little firmer. “you don’t have to, baby. half’s already fuckin’ killin’ me.”

but it’s too late.

your body’s greedy.

you grind down again—slow, thoughtless, dizzy—and your hips roll just right, angling perfectly, and suddenly you slip.

lower.

deeper.

your eyes snap open.

he gasps—loud, choked, shocked.

you freeze.

and the second he’s all the way in—buried to the base—you scream.

not loud, but ragged. guttural. like the air’s been punched from your lungs and replaced with heat and pressure and the overwhelming stretch of being full.

you’re shaking. writhing. every nerve ending flaring at once. your hands claw at his chest. you can’t breathe. can’t think.

“oh my fuck, baby—” schlatt grits out, voice wrecked, hands flying to your hips like he’s trying to steady himself before he loses all control.

your body clenches around him on instinct—so tight, so wet, so goddamn full of him it’s like your body doesn’t know whether to panic or come.

“i didn’t mean to—” you gasp, tears in your eyes, head spinning. “i just—it just slipped—”

“i know, i know,” he breathes, voice wild, thumb brushing your hip like it might calm you down—even as his grip twitches, even as every muscle in his body begs him to move.

but he doesn’t.

not yet.

because when he looks down—it’s right there.

the base of his cock flushed dark, your folds swollen and stretched taut around him, a slick, shiny ring where your body’s clinging like it doesn’t want to let him go. like you were built for this.

he groans, deep and guttural. “jesus christ.”

you blink down at him, dazed. “what?”

“look at this,” he mutters, dragging his eyes down to where your bodies are still locked. “look at this. you’re fuckin’ made for me.”

his hand slides between your thighs—spreads you open just enough that you both get a better view.

your breath stutters.

because fuck, it’s obscene.

the size difference, the way he fills you, how swollen and stretched and stuffed you are—it’s so much. too much.

and still, your cunt clenches around him again like it wants more.

he grabs your hips—rough now, greedy—and starts grinding into you, slow but deep, like he wants to feel every inch of your walls wrapped around him, stretching, clenching, taking.

“oh, my fuck, baby—” he hisses, watching where he disappears inside you. “it fits. it fits. i can feel your cunt choking on it. look at how tight you are—look at how deep i am—fuck—”

he laughs under his breath. wrecked.

your hips twitch at his words.

you’re still panting. flushed and sensitive and wide-eyed. “i didn’t mean to take all of it—i just—i wanted more—”

“i know,” he says again, gentler now. “but all of me? on your first time?”

his head drops. his forehead rests against yours.

“fuck, you’re unreal.”

then he pulls back just an inch—slow, cautious, like he’s testing the water—and your body on top of his.

his jaw clenches. his hands twitch against your hips like he's holding back something barely contained. he drops his forehead against yours again—like he’s trying to ground himself in your skin instead of the way you feel wrapped around him.

you whimper softly, body twitching with aftershocks, and that’s when he really looks at you.

eyes wild.

lips parted.

hair a mess.

his gaze drops between your bodies—where he’s still buried, where he can feel you throbbing around him, leaking down his length—and something shifts.

he exhales.

rough. shaky. dangerous.

like he’s one wrong move from losing control all over again.

“baby—” he murmurs, voice low and fraying. “i need to—”

he cuts himself off. swallows. you watch his jaw clench.

then softer, almost pleading:

“can i take over?”

you blink up at him, dazed and glowing, still fogged with the kind of high that leaves your soul floating.

“…please,” you whisper.

“fuck yes,” he growls—and then you’re weightless.

in one swift movement, he slips out and flips you onto your back, spreading your legs with zero hesitation. the air hits your slick skin and you shiver—but he’s already there, lining himself up, kissing your knee like it’s the last gentle thing he’s got in him.

and then—

he thrusts in again. deep. hard.

the new angle makes you see stars.

his piercing brushes right there—a heavy, deliberate drag against your cervix that makes you gasp, body seizing up around him.

“there it is,” he growls, watching your face twist with pleasure-shock. “you feel that, baby? you feel me all the way up there?”

you can’t answer. your mouth is open, soundless, tears pricking at your lashes from the intensity.

he grabs your thighs, spreading you wider, pulling you down onto him like he’s got something to prove.

like he’s trying to brand you from the inside out.

“fuck—this pussy—i knew it was good, but goddamn.”

you sob out something close to his name, and he loses it.

he leans over you, caging you in with his forearms, his hips slamming into yours with loud, wet slaps that echo off the room.

“taking me so fuckin’ good,” he pants, voice right in your ear. “letting me ruin you, sweetheart. letting me fuck you dumb on your first time.”

“say it,” he demands again, voice shredded. “say it’s mine.”

and then—without thinking, without breathing, without even realizing what you’re about to say—

you choke out:

“it's already yours.”

his whole body jerks.

he stills—deep inside you, cock twitching, throbbing, fighting for control he doesn’t have.

his eyes snap open. meet yours.

and something in both of you just breaks.

the tension snaps like a wire under pressure—and you both come together.

you sob. your body locks around him. your vision goes white at the edges.

he groans—deep, animal, like he’s never felt anything like this before—and spills inside you, hips grinding down to push every drop as far in as it’ll go.

neither of you move. not at first.

just panting. shaking. stunned.

and then, slowly—so slowly—he pulls back just enough to watch it happen.

his cock slips out, wet and swollen and trembling, and a thick string of cum follows, dripping out of you in slow, obscene globs.

he watches it—entranced. then looks at you again. hair wild. eyes glassy. body still trembling with aftershocks.

he exhales, rough and ragged, like he’s trying to catch up with himself.

“shit,” he mutters. “okay. hang on, baby.”

he moves fast—but gentle. stands, tucks himself back into his boxers with one hand, and disappears down the hallway. you blink, dazed, and only just register the sound of running water.

when he returns, he’s got a warm, damp washcloth. his brows are drawn, focused—his expression all quiet care and no teasing for once.

“lift your hips for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kneeling beside you again.

you do. barely.

he takes over—one hand cradling your thigh, the other so gentle as he wipes between your legs. cleaning you. soothing you. making sure you’re okay.

“think i might’ve overdone it, huh?” he murmurs. “first time and i go feral like a fuckin’ animal…”

you shake your head, still hazy. “was perfect.”

he exhales—almost a laugh, almost a sigh—and kisses your knee.

“lift your arms,” he says next, reaching behind for the throw blanket. “we’re not sleeping on the couch. not after what we just did to it.”

you comply, sluggish and boneless. he bundles you up in the blanket like a little caterpillar in a cocoon, one arm wrapping under your legs, the other steady at your back.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, grinning to himself as he picks you up. “third date and i’ve already fucked up your ability to walk. great impression, schlatt.”

“you’re doing amazing,” you mumble into his neck, eyes heavy, lips smiling.

his condo’s quiet except for the shuffle of his steps, low muttering as he opens the door to his bedroom with his shoulder. it’s clean—cool gray sheets, big comforter, scuffed dresser with tiny tower of hats, an empty glass on the nightstand, his cologne still hanging in the air.

he sets you on the edge of the bed, then disappears into the closet.

“don’t even think about crashing in that dress,” he calls, rummaging.

you blink, foggy. “but it's...pretty comfy.”

“it’s not sleepwear, toots. catch.”

he tosses a shirt—soft, black, oversized. you tug it on with wobbly arms, his shirt swallowing your frame, no panties in sight, letting it fall down past your thighs. schlatt turns back around once you’re changed, holding out a water bottle and two pills.

“advil,” he says. “preventative. i know it’s gonna hit you in the morning.”

you swallow them, obedient, and let him help you into bed. the mattress is warm from the sheets, and you sink in immediately.

he joins you a beat later—still in his sweats, shirt rucked up slightly—and pulls the blanket over both of you. his arm slides around your waist. his other hand rests over your stomach, fingers grazing against your skin, almost tickling you.

his voice is quieter now. lower. honest.

“…you okay?”

you nod into his shoulder. “mhm.”

“wasn’t too much?”

“you asked. every time.”

a pause. then, softly:

“i’m really glad it was you.”

his fingers flex against your side. he presses a kiss to your temple.

“i know it’s only been three dates,” he murmurs, “but i really fucking like you.”

your breath catches. you tilt your head to meet his eyes.

they’re softer than you’ve ever seen them. tired. awed.

“i wanna be your boyfriend,” he says simply. “if you’ll have me.”

your chest swells. you smile.

“yeah,” you whisper. “i want that. i'd really, really like that.”

he exhales like he’s been holding it in for hours. “jesus. okay. okay, good.” he buries his face in your hair, arms tightening around you. “best third date i’ve ever had.”

you huff a sleepy laugh. “me too.”

the rest of the night settles around you in warmth and softness and the steady thump of his heartbeat, echoing against your back.

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

Acrylics

Schlatt x girly!Reader Summary: If Schlatt's gonna get the benefits of your acrylics he might as well pay for them Warnings: none :)! Just fluff! Based on this request Pt2 here

"Can you stop that?" Schlatt asks you from across the table with a gruff breath of a laugh as he glances up at you from his laptop, raising an eyebrow as he shoots you a smirk. It's only when he points it out that you realise the rhythmic sound you'd been hearing wasn't just in your head, but was your acrylics, tapping aimlessly at the wooden table as you chewed on your pen.

You mumble an apology as you sit on your hands, feeling the heat rise your cheeks as you giggle softly when he laughs and stands up, walking over to you. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and plants a kiss on your forehead as he goes over to the fridge, coming back moments later with two cans of soft drink. He puts one down for you and goes to sit back down at his laptop, popping it open and taking a loud slurp.

"Jay?" you mumble sweetly as you catch his attention away from his computer, smiling sheepishly as you tap the rim of the metal can with your nails, "can you open this for me?"

He lets out a mix between a laugh and a scoff as he reaches over and takes your can, popping it open with ease, "you're so needy."

You gasp dramatically as you take your can back, shooting him a glare, "I can't break a nail."

"Are you gonna be alright if I go to the bank while you're here?" he asks you when he stops with you outside of the nail salon, slipping your purse off your shoulder to fish out the things he dumped in there when you left the house.

You nod as you adjust the collar on his jacket and hum, "it won't take too long."

"Take as long as you need, I may be a while at the bank," he says as he places a kiss to your temple, slipping the bag back up your arm, "I'll meet you back here when I'm done," he motions to the seats in the walkway of the shops, outside the nail salon.

You part ways as he goes off to run his errands, and you head into the salon, greeting your usual nail tech at the counter as you show her your growth and ask for some infills. She makes small talk with you as she rings up your deposit amount on the cash register, catching up on the happenings in your lives since the last time you came in.

You dig through your bag, hunting for your wallet, only to find Schlatt's black wallet instead, in the pocket you usually put yours in. You step away from the counter with an apology and fish out your phone, texting your boyfriend.

"Come bacccckkk you took my wallet :("

He replies almost instantly, as if he was waiting for your message, "yeah I know, treat yourself darling."

"come baaaaaccccccccck I put aside money for these"

"Don't be stubborn, my shout"

You huff as you message back a, ">:(", which he simply hearts.

You head back over to the register and, reluctantly, tap your boyfriend's card. As you make your way over to the chair your nail tech has set up for you you feel your phone buzz again.

"good girl"

You just tuck your phone away as you look through the colour swatches, digging your tongue into the side of your cheek as you bite back a smile, until your phone dings again.

"do me a favour?"

"what? <3"

"do them red"

"I got red last time ;_;"

"they looked so hot against my cock last time"

He lies down to go to sleep before you do, for the first time in months. He turns the lamp off the second he lays down and curls up under the blanket as you mindlessly scroll on your phone.

You mumble your sleepy 'love you's' to each other, kissing goodnight as his side of the bed shifts as he gets comfy, back turned to you as he splays himself out on the bed.

After a while of silence, you feel the bed shift next to you, the soft huff leaving Schlatt's lips as he shuffles back towards your side of the bed ever so slightly. You pay him no mind, continuing to scroll through your feed.

He does it again, after another long stretch of silence, backing up so he's fully pressed against you, his back to your side as he squirms into the mattress. You assume he's trying to get comfortable, reaching around to lazily wrap an arm around his shoulder, so you can lay more comfortably as you scroll with him pressed against you.

He huffs again, now not even trying to hide it, turning towards you and nudging you lightly with his shoulder as he faces you fully. "What's wrong?" you whisper softly into the night as you feel his warm breath through your thin pj shirt.

He takes your hand in his large, heavy one, and unceremoniously puts it on your head, meeting your confused look with raised eyebrows and a tiny pout as he looks up at you expectantly. You can feel your heart melt as the audible awe leaves your lips, dropping your phone beside you to lay down and cradle his head in your chest.

You smother soft kisses to his head as you scratch your nails gently through his hair, the smile forming on your lips when you hear his content sigh as he sinks into your touch, "is this what you wanted my love?"

He nods into your chest as he lets his eyes droop shut, hand pressed gently into your skin and your lower back as the two of you sink further into the mattress together, "this is perfect darlin'."

[ohbabydollie]

flashing schlatt mid argument.

omg that’s crazy

you and schlatt had been bickering for a few minutes now, over something probably stupid, but with all the stress you two had been dealing with lately, it just seemed to be the breaking point.

you had started to feel bad about arguing in the first place, now feeling dumb about doing so, that’s when you decided to bring the argument to a halt.

you had suddenly thought of something so fool proof, it had to work.

you just had to move quick with it, taking a quick second to step back as schlatt is scolding you, feeling a small grin tug at your lips.

“what the fuck are ya so smiley for?” he asks angrily

you don’t respond, instead quickly lifting your shirt up, giving him a few moments to stand there frozen as he takes in what happened before making a run for the opened door.

“wait!” he calls out running after you, “I’ll stop arguin’ jus’ give me another view”

who tf wrote that???

[foundbybullet]

not to butt in with my twitter experiences but it was infamously known that if you supported what was previously the sleepybois, schlatt, connor, niki, eret, fundy, and definitely a few others that im forgetting dteam/dreams stans would harass you so bad that it was highly advised within the subtwt that you shouldnt have a ccat public

it got so bad at one point that it was basically no one who didnt like dteam wasnt allowed to interact

one time i made a tweet defending eret for their storyline and poking fun at gnf and sapnap (?) during a stream for making fun of eret and all of their stans came in calling me names and basically stupid for not getting their favs harsh jokes about the unserious lore

dream you literally made a thread comparing your autistic co-worker to a dog and sent an essay to tommyinnit's mother because he made a satire video that made fun of you for 5 seconds

[kaiaotic]

"just do your makeup here"

description: you were going to do your makeup in another room since schlatt was streaming but he didn't want you to leave just yet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀tags: fluff! sappy & soft schlatt, female reader!

authors note: been having a schlatt hyperfixation again its been so long since ive had this phase but im SO back..also first post!! lolzz

you walked out of the bathroom after washing your face and pass by schlatt's desk, not caring too much about the camera that had you in frame.

"you guys-..what is wrong with qoobo? that's qoobo you fuckers!" schlatt talked to the camera and turned around to the fuzzy robot that wagged its tail. you laughed as you sat on the bed and grabbed your makeup bag and started to head out to the door.

"toots, where'ya goin'?" schlatt turned to you and looked at you with pleading eyes that read "don't leave please."

"i was just gonna do my makeup, why?"

"just do your makeup here," he pats his lap and fully turns his body, spinning the chair around.

you tilted your head in confusion but shrugged, "okay.." you sat on his lap and got comfy, his arms naturally wrapping around you, his chin resting on your shoulder, kissing behind your ear, you can feel him smiling against your skin.

"show the camera what you're doing doll, all the femboys on here can take notes"

you snorted a laugh and sighed, "okay, sure..you know you have a lot of women in here too right?"

schlatt looked at the camera with a deathstare and back to you, "what's that?" he said, pointing to your concealer,

"that's my concealer..let me do my makeup first and then i'll explain."

you go step by step, showing the camera your products as you do your makeup. schlatt just admires you in the monitor, watching the stream playback and how you just do your makeup, his left elbow resting on the armrest as his hand rests under his chin watching you. his right hand snakes down and just rests on your thigh, tracing small circles on your skin.

"okay for my lip combo--where is it..." you looked around for your lip gloss and schlatt sat up and turned to his other desk, grabbing the lip gloss he loved so much and handed it to you.

you thanked him and applied your lipliner and lipgloss, clapping as you finished, "anddddd that's what i do, okay bye"

you giggled and grabbed your makeup bag and got up, feeling the cold air as schlatt's hand left your thigh. schlatt laughed as you quickly left, knowing you aren't the most comfortable in front of the camera. he reached out and grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to him.

"i'll finish up soon, okay princess?" schlatt looked up at you and smiled. you nodded and smiled back, leaning in and kissing him before walking out of his room.

he turned to the computer, rubbing and smacking his lips as your lip combo was now on him.

"chat, you guys wish you could taste this shit. it's addicting for real."

bunnybun1343x: LMAOOO okay schlames scharles ninjaxx242: can her boyfriend fight?

he read the chat and laughed, "SCHLAMES SCHARLES?" he shook his head, laughing. "and yes i can fuckin' fight, i'd fuckin' kill you if it meant y/n was on the line...

and this lip gloss too, it tastes so good."

[custardandjam]

good morning! - Jschlatt x gn!Reader

~~~

Masterlist: here

Words: 569

Warnings: implied shorter!reader, and the fact I found this fic from my old wattpad drafts from 2022 - so it’s not all that great

~~~

Schlatt hated to be touched. Obviously not in that sense, but in a more cuddly manner. He wasn't ever overly affectionate and while that hurt your feelings from time to time when you just wanted to cuddle and he'd say no, you were all-in-all fine with it because he was perfectly fine is honoring you with all the kisses you desired and letting you cling to him before sleeping; however you'd always wake up detached from him after he had probably rolled off him to get comfortable for himself.

One morning you had woken up early, around 7am, and couldn't for the life of you get back to sleep. So you got up, throwing the covers off your body and having them land haphazardly between where you and he would sleep, some of the covers on him. You pushed yourself up off the bed and dragged some shorts on after taking off the joggers you fell asleep in, ridding of the jumper you wore and taking the shirt Schlatt had on the day before to wear. The absence of a bra was obvious.

You walked down the stairs quietly, trying to dodge the one squeaky step and then strolling into your kitchen. You turned on a slow, calm playlist through the kitchens Alexa and then began brewing coffee since you knew Schlatt would want some and you were feeling generous.

As you switched the switch on you felt an unfamiliar but not unwanted feeling of his hands on your waist, then moving around your middle until his arms were completely wrapped around your torso. His chest against your shoulder blades- almost your head because of the height difference. At first you were confused as to who was hugging you, knowing Schlatt wasn't this affectionate. Until you felt the kisses on the side of your neck from him.

"Good morning, to you too." You said with a giggle as his face scruff tickled your neck. He hummed as a greeting back, the vibrations making you laugh more. You brought your hand up behind your head and put it gently on his head, your fingers in his hair. "What's got you all affectionate today?"

He didn't say anything, and instead further buried his head into your shirt. Then moved his hands under your shirt leaving his cold palms against your bare skin. "You left me..." He said quietly, his voice was gravelly from just waking up but his accent still prominent.

"What d’you mean?" You asked quietly, dropping your arm from behind your head and turning in his arms. He lifted his head as you spun around,  still leaving his palms flat against your skin; just now your lower back.

"I woke up and you were gone," He said, looking into your eyes. In all the time your had dated and lived together he was always the one to wake up first, or at the same time, so it was confusing when he woke up to you gone completely.

"I didn't wanna wake you up," You said. Reaching your hands up to his face and holding his face between your palms. "You looked pretty cute." You smiled. He just nodded understandingly and then leaned down to kiss you. "Made you coffee," You said after he pulled back.

He grinned and then mumbled "You are the most perfect person ever." before kissing you again.

[idioticidoms]

The Enemy Within

| Schlatt x Afab!reader

Summary: After a chilly night out, you and Schlatt decide to get "warm" but are interrupted by a hidden enemy.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: swearing, implied alc use, Schlatt yelling at Jambo. minors dni, 18+, slight smut not really though, rpf

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It would’ve been a perfect night out if Schlatt hadn’t been proven right. The pair of you were returning from a last minute dinner party invite in SoHo. You wanted to make an impression on the glitzy L.A. influencers Schlatt shits on constantly (plus it’s Soho, who wouldn’t want to dress up?). So naturally, you had to wear your tightest little black dress and your slightly overpriced red bottomed heels that would seek their revenge in the morning. But, unfortunately for you, New York City winters have a reputation to maintain of their intolerableness. Tonight was no exception. Schlatt (ever the gentleman) gave you a shot of his unbearably expensive Japanese whiskey beforehand to give you both a nice liquid coat. He also conveniently “forgot” to remind you to bring a real coat and was subsequently “forced” into giving you his coat. 

Schlatt’s coat was a suitable defence against the chilly New York air. The material was thick and wooly just as any proper East Coast coat. But the collar had the lingering smell of Schlatt's cologne. Notes of smokey pine and fresh cedar filled your nose, perfuming the cold air as you both walked back to Schlatt’s apartment. The walk was comfortably silent. No doubt both of your social batteries were drained from having to fake laugh at one too many bad jokes. Taking the moment in, you turn slightly to look at Schlatt. His usually hard, distinct features were dusted with that signature Cold Girl™ flush. His exhales were followed by tiny wisps of fog, tinting the lens of his glasses. Two months into your relationship, and you still caught yourself staring at him and all his little details. 

“What’s the matter? Something on my face?” He asked abruptly, rudely cutting your gazing short. 

You let out a huff. 

“No.” 

Schlatt’s hand found yours in his coat pocket. He squeezed your fingers, his cold skin prickling your warm hand. The touch though gentle was almost searing. 

“I should ask for this back.” He smirked.. “You’re not freezing at all.” 

You rolled your eyes in response. You both knew Schlatt would readily strip down to his boxers in Time Square if it meant keeping you warm. 

“What’s the saying? A hoe never gets cold?” He teased.

“Shut up.” You said muffled, your face partly covered by the cuff of his jacket. You had hoped the cuff covered enough of your mouth so that Schlatt couldn’t see your big cheesy smile at such a crude remark. But eyes have a way of giving people away. 

After a few more blocks, you finally arrived at his apartment. Walking up the steps of his  brownstone was a challenge you didn’t expect. The ice threatened to take your knees out via your already precariously too tall heels. You stood by the stairs for a minute, contemplating the best way to get up without eating shit in front of your new boyfriend.

“C’mon princess. I’m freezing my fucking ass out here.”

“Give me a minute, I’m trying to figure out how not to break my skull open.” You said, reaching down for your heels. 

Frustrated, Schlatt opted for the quickest maneuver which was to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder and carry you up the icy steps. 

“Jesus fuck you’re really spoiled aren’t you?” Schlatt muttered under his breath, setting you down inside the entrance of his apartment.

It wasn’t your first time in Schlatt’s apartment. That moment happened on your first date which now felt like a small lifetime ago. But it was your first time being in his apartment like this. In a beautifully typical, utterly domestic way. A natural scene in the intertwining of your lives together. You stayed in the living room while Schlatt went over to his bedroom. Thus began the process of winding down for the night. You set your purse down and kicked your heels off. You opted to leave the coat on though for a few more minutes. The oversized coat was so cozy, so Schlatt. It’s almost impossible to want more from him. Almost. 

“Hey sweetheart?” You saw Schlatt’s head peek from the bedroom door. 

“Do you want to change? I can give you one of my old shirts. Nothing too fashionable though sorry.” 

“No, not yet. Still cold” You whined.

After a few more minutes, you finally gave in: slowly unzipping his jacket and placing it neatly on the couch. Looking over your shoulder, you manage to catch Schlatt in his act of putting the dots together. Originally, Schlatt started to come out of the bedroom upon hearing of your condition. It took only one glance in your direction for him to stay right where he was. He understood the game you’re playing. You both needed a different way to warm up. Clothes would only slow you down. You walked towards him and the bedroom door, eagerly ready for whatever he had in store for you. 

“How cold are you?” He said mockingly. 

“Very. I’m nearly hypothermic.” 

“Ah we can’t have that happening. Here, let me help you.” Schlatt whispered, pulling you in his room.

If there is anything Schlatt is famous for it’s his impatient attitude. True to fame he acted swiftly, pressing your body against the door with his. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your expectant face up towards his. You tried to close the gap but he held you steady.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, waiting to see if you were going to play along with his ideal of you tonight.

You bit your lip. On any other night, you might have tested his patience. But, needs are needs. 

“P-please?” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

How could Schlatt deny your request now? He quickly pulled you in for a needy kiss. Eagerly your hands found themselves tangled in his hair, pulling in him as if there were more room between you two. Somewhere in the frenzy, Schlatt bit your lip, causing a soft whine to come from your throat. Schlatt took this as a sign to start trailing kisses from your lips to the corner of your mouth before finally reaching your neck. More soft moans escaped your mouth, only couraging his endeavors. It didn’t take long for Schlatt to get on his knees, start hiking up your dress and pulling down your panties. 

“You’re such a good girl for me. Such a good girl.” He said breathlessly against your thigh. 

“Only for you.” You managed to say, breathless and dizzy from all his kisses. 

That line alone would have sent Schlatt over the edge. He may be impatient, but he prided himself on being a civilized man. You might’ve taken him there against his bedroom door, but he wanted to drag this charade out. After all, you were cold, desperately cold. Surely you needed a better warming up than a quick fuck. 

Schlatt opted to once again pick you up, messily kissing you as he brought you over to his bed. He sat you on the edge of his bed. Wasting no time, your hands stumbled on themselves as you hurried to undo his belt buckle. Everything quickly turned into a frenzy of kisses as he pinned you down onto the bed again. You were both so caught up in the endeavor that neither one of you noticed Jambo popping into the room until Schlatt shot up unexpectedly from his towering position over you. That damn cat managed to open the door and hop onto Schlatt’s back. 

“Jambo I’m going to fucking kill you!” He yelled, chasing the orange tabby away from the room. 

“Don’t be mean to him! He didn’t know!” You said while trying to bite back your smile. Despite this effort, you couldn’t resist laughing. 

“Bullshit, that cat wants to give me blue balls.” He huffed.

The mood was killed effectively. Yet, despite the sex being ruined that night, it was nice to cuddle up to your handsome boyfriend with his two insane cats. A part of you reveled in the fact that there were many more nights like this awaiting the two of you now. The other could hardly believe that fact.

[steadiedcoffeekitten]

The expression on schlatts face makes me think that if he were a short king. He'd be so fuckin mad about it. He would be LIVID.

This man loves being a powerful, tall, intimidating, absolutely unapproachable being y'all cannot convince me otherwise.

spooky monsters!

[schlattschlut]

Speak Up - Schlatt Smut

Attending a friends wedding and Schlatt getting extremely jealous.

cw: Smut obvi, fingering, lowkey hate fucking, Schlatt ties you up, non consensual kissing (from Ted), Ted’s kinda a creep in this oops, degradation, jealousy, Schlatt “blames” you for the kiss

Okay yall here’s another one. One of my wives requested this so shout out to her, MWAH. These are never proof read btw I just go with it.

1.8k words

Getting Schlatt to go anywhere, especially a crowded and drunken event like a wedding, was no easy feat. It often took a lot of begging and bargaining.

It wasn’t until a few days before our friend’s wedding that Schlatt agreed to attend. We both dressed our best; I stood in the doorway fixing his tie one last time.

“Just try to have fun?” I ask softly, my hands resting against the lapels of his suit.

Schlatt huffs, pulling his hands from his pockets and grabbing my waist; he tugs me closer to bury his face in my neck for a moment, breathing in my perfume.

“I’ll try.” He grumbles, “But I’m not staying any longer than I have to.”

I roll my eyes and attempt to respond; but Schlatts phone dings to alert us our ride has arrived. He leads me outside and helps me into the back seat before following shortly after. He greets the driver and pulls me close to his side when he notices the man eyeing me through the mirror.

The ride is quiet, Schlatt unimpressed with the driver and refusing to engage in the small talk he brought forward. As soon as we arrive at the venue, Schlatt is opening the door and gently but urgently pulling me from the car.

The car pulls away and Schlatt watches it leave for a moment before pulling me into his side again. He huffs softly before speaking; “You should’ve brought a jacket.”

To anyone else, the comment seemed like he was worried about me getting cold. But I knew he hated the fact that anyone could see me in this outfit that makes his pants tighter every time he looks at me.

“I’ll be fine.” I murmur reassuringly; taking a step towards the venue.

Schlatt is sure to spend most of the night glued to my side, monitoring my alcohol intake and eyeing up anyone who seemed to get too close. A few drinks in his system seemed to allow him to loosen up just a bit and interact with his friends.

By the time everyone was done eating and half the guests moved to the dance floor; Schlatt had gotten significantly drunker, becoming much more relaxed as the evening went on. Eventually his arm fell from its place around my waist, allowing me to move freely through the crowd to find another drink.

As I stood at the open bar, waiting for the drink I ordered; I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I furrow my brow and turn on my heel, “Hey, Ted.”

He smiles and steps forward as I greet him, towering over me now as a drink is slid across the bar to me. A look crosses his face and I can tell he’s several drinks deep himself.

“Hey pretty girl.” He replies, his words slurring. I jump slightly as he wraps his arm around my waist. My eyes scan the room, the crowd of people objects my view of Schlatt as I try to step away from Ted. “C’mon now.” He murmurs and inches closer again, “Don’t be like that.”

I switch my drink to my other hand nervously, pulling Ted’s hand away from my waist. “I know you’re drunk, but I also know you’re not stupid.”

Ted laughs at my words, freeing his hand from my grasp and grabbing my waist again. “You’re right. I’m not stupid. I see a girl being neglected by her man, I’m here to step in.”

I scoff, shoving him off of me now. “I’m not being neglected and you don’t need to do anything.”

I can see something shifting behind his eyes as I reject his advances, he steps forward again and his hand grips my upper arm tightly. “I’m being a gentleman here.”

His words send a cold shiver up my spine, I furrow my brow at him as I try to pull my arm from his grasp. Ted grabs my face with his other hand; pulling my face towards his and colliding our lips together. I push against his chest to free myself but he doesn’t let go.

Ted is suddenly yanked away from me. I gather my bearings and find Schlatt dragging Ted away by the collar of his suit. Several pairs of eyes are on me now; I fix my hair quickly before following the path that Schlatt had taken.

I step outside into the cold night air just as Schlatt shoves Ted away from himself. His shoulders are tense and he���s breathing heavily, when I step closer our eyes meet and I can see the way his pupils are dilated with anger now.

Something shifts behind his eyes as he looks back at me. He seems to forget Ted completely as he grabs my arm and tugs me away from the house and down the driveway; his presence felt looming the entire time as he calls a cab and we stand on the curb silently. He helps me into the back seat without a word and holds my hand as I climb out once we arrive back home. He unlocks the front door and steps aside to allow me to enter first.

I flip on the light to the entry way, kicking off my shoes and turning around to look at him. The night starts to catch up to me and I let out a soft huff as a wave of exhaustion hits.

Schlatts expression is unreadable until he tosses the keys on the table near the door and stepping closer to me, “I told you to cover up.”

My jaw drops slightly at his words, I hadn’t expected him to blame this on me. “So it’s my fault?”

Schlatt presses his tongue to his cheek before lifting his hand and wrapping his fingers around my throat, he pushes me backwards until my back hits the wall. “It is if you’re walking around in a dress that screams ‘somebody fuck me’.” He growls.

I roll my eyes and Schlatts grip tightens again, he leans closer and I can smell the alcohol on him now. “You need someone to fuck you? Is that it?”

His words are condescending and they shoot straight to my core, my legs instinctively squeezing together. “Maybe I do.” I whisper back.

“If you need me so bad, you just have to ask.” His voice is low as he leans closer to my ear, “You don’t have to go flaunting what’s mine to the world.” I whimper softly as his fingers tighten against my neck and he pulls me away from the wall to connect our lips. My body relaxes slightly into his as his tongue presses against my lips, demanding entrance. The kiss gets heavier by the second until Schlatt pulls away, panting slightly. “Bedroom.”

His hand falls from my neck and he takes a step back, waiting for me to obey his instructions. I don’t think twice, sliding past him as I moved towards the bedroom. I fumble with the zipper on my dress for a moment before Schlatt enters the room behind me chuckling. He pulls the zipper down for me and helps push my dress down my shoulders.

Once it’s in a pile on the floor, his body his pressed against my back and his hands find my hips; his thumbs tugging on down my underwear softly.

“Dirty girl.” He tsks, grabbing my hips and turning me towards the bed. “It’s time you learn to use your words.”

Schlatts hand splays over the middle of my shoulders and pushes my face down into the mattress. He presses his hips into mine again, his hardness obvious through his dress pants. His hands push my underwear down my legs until they hit the floor. I gasp softly as the cool air of the room hits my core.

He straightens his back again and rests his hands against my ass as he takes in just how wet I am. One of his thumbs moves to press firmly into my clit. I moan softly and rock back against his hand.

“Use your words.” He commands, his free hand laying a heavy smack to my ass. “Tell me what you want.”

I just whine, continuing to try and move my hips towards his hand.

He growls softly before taking his thumb away and smacking my ass again. I can hear the sound of his belt clinking as it hits the floor before his fingers tangle in my hair and he’s tugging my head back just enough to look him in the eyes. “Tell me.”

“I want you.” I whine.

“What do you want from me?” His words are sharp, he tugs on my hair again to remind me he’s in control.

“I- I need your dick.” I gasp out, “Please, I need you to fuck me.”

Schlatt grunts in response, his grip on my hair releasing as I fall back against the bed. I hear him shuffle for a moment before he’s grabbing both my wrists and tugging them behind my back. The soft fabric of his tie loops around my wrists as he ties a bow to secure them in place. He tugs gently on the fabric to ensure it’s not too tight before not waiting another moment as he slides two fingers into me, curling them just perfectly and making my back arch. “Such a good girl, using your words.”

He slips his fingers out and immediately presses his cock into me; making me moan softly into the sheets as I felt his stretch and the way he pulsed when he was fully seated inside me. He takes a moment to catch his breath before looking at me expectantly, wanting me to tell him to continue.

“Baby… please move.” I whine, rolling my hips back slightly. He groans softly as my body squeezes around him and his hips start to move slowly, finding a steady yet devastating pace. “Schlatt-“ I gasp.

“Shut up.” He murmurs, grabbing my hips and managing to push himself even deeper. My eyes roll as he presses against my G spot repeatedly. “This is what you fucking wanted.”

His hips don’t slow down, not even as I’m softly begging him to go easy. He’s chasing his own high, too blinded by pleasure to even hear my begging.

“Please-“ I gasp again, feeling the familiar fire growing in my stomach that made my vision turn white. One of his hands releases my hip to press his thumb against my clit again; he rubs quick circles.

“You’re gonna cum, huh? You can’t help coming around my cock.” He condescends. I whimper, nodding quickly and biting my lip as I tried to hold back. “Then come.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice as my body let go, my legs shaking under him and soft whines leaving me as my eyes turned starry. Schlatt groans, thrusting a few more times before I feel his warm release inside of me, already starting to drip out around him.

Schlatt drops his weight onto his arms, his chest pressing into my back as he tried to collect himself. He pulls out slowly and leans away long enough to untie my hands and flip me onto my back. I smile up at him before he grabs my face and kisses me roughly again. “You’re mine and I’ll beat the shit out of Ted if he touches you like that again.”

He kisses me again before climbing off the bed to find a towel, using it to clean both of us up before tugging me under the blankets with him and wrapping his arms securely around my waist; ensuring I didn’t go anywhere.

[schlattslambo]

drunk words, sober thoughts || schlatt 18+

a/n: im really sorry for the delay 😭 please enjoy

warnings: female!reader, rough sex, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, belt used to tie hands together, the word cunt used a few times

——————

“say that shit again and we’re breaking this bed,” jay’s words send heat directly between your legs.

“make me scream,” you smile, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

jay growls low in his throat, his hand wrapping around yours. your smile grows as he puts pressure on your neck, leaning down and pressing his forehead to yours. his breath fans out over your lips.

“you drive me absolutely fuckin’ crazy toots,” jay saya before crashing his lips down to yours in a heated kiss.

jay’s teeth sink into your bottom lip as he tugs on it ever so slightly, eliciting a mewl from you. his fingers comb into your hair, tugging at your scalp so your head goes back. you let out a moan as he nips along your neck. his nips and kisses trail down to your collar bone.

“this is in the way,” jay mumbles, ripping your dress down the middle.

you gasp loudly as you go to yell at jay for ruining your favorite dress, but he does the same with your bra, instantly bringing one nipple into your mouth.

“j-jay!” you yelp.

“i’ll buy you another one,” jay mumbles against your skin. “i’ll buy you anything you want.”

his sweet words continue to warm you up from the inside as his tongue and mouth warm you up from the outside. he licks up the center of your chest to yours collarbone before nipping and sucking at your skin. he blows over the now growing mark making you shiver.

“get on with it,” you whine, pushing his head toward your crotch.

in response, jay whips his belt off.

“hands,” he orders.

you stick your hands out and he binds them with the belt.

“hold them above your head,” jay continues. “if you move them, you’ll get punished.”

you nod, licking your lips. “yes sir,” you respond.

jay continues to kiss down your body. by the time he gets to your waist, you’re squirming. despite the growing need that you have, you keep your arms above your head. you love being worshipped like this, even if it drives you absolutely insane. jay’s cheeks are still flushed from the alcohol, and his eyes are glazed over. not from drunkenness, but from carnal desire. he’s never looked so hot.

your thoughts are halted by your panties getting yanked down your legs. you glance down and jay licks his lips as he spreads your legs. you feel shy for a moment, not even sure why. jay’s seen you at all possible angles and loves every bit of you. he loves you from your head straight down to your toes.

jay smiles at your wetness. your eagerness for him. he spreads you open gently, watching as your cheeks flush, just like they always do when he gets a good look at you like this.

“you’re so beautiful,” he rasps. “so, so wet for me.”

with that, he lies on his stomach and kisses your thighs. he holds your legs open as they tremble. one swipe of his tongue through your wetness makes your back arch as you gasp loudly.

“j-jay!” you gasp. “fuck!”

jay chuckles against you, tongue circling your clit. the nub quickly swells from the stimulation and he sucks on it. your hips buck up into his face as you cry out. jay looks up at you from between your legs and you feel him smile against you.

your eyes are screwed shut and you’re biting your hand. it’s cute, how much you’re trying not to cum already. a finger teases your hole, gently pushing in. with one adjustment, jay grazes along the spot that makes your vision blur at the edges. he pumps his finger a few times before entering another finger. this step is necessary because no matter how wet you are, you have to prep for his thick cock.

“j-jay,” you breathe. “another one. please.”

“such a good girl, using your manners.” jay smiles, taking his mouth away from your clit just long enough to speak before adding a third finger.

your back arches at the stretch, pussy fluttering over the three fingers that are buried inside of you. you reach back and grip the pillow behind your head in an attempt to keep your hands from gripping jay’s hair.

“s’close jay!” you cry out.

in an instant, jay’s fingers are out of you. your pussy pulses over nothing as you whimper.

“so mean to me,” you pout.

jay chuckles as he takes his pants down.

“i’m gonna be rough with you tonight, toots,” he says. “okay?”

his grin falls as he asks. he doesn’t want to hurt you, as rough as he wants to be. he wants to ravage you, but he doesn’t want to really hurt you in the process. as his brown eyes bore into yours, you smile.

“tell me its okay to fuck you as hard as i can,” jay pleads. “i need to fuck you into the mattress.”

at your nod, jay is on you. his cock is lined up at your entrance instantly and he kisses you with such passion that it takes your breath away. he pulls away, cock sliding into you. he doesn’t just have a long cock, but it’s thick too. when you first had sex, you were sure it would rip you in half. now, you love being literally impaled by it.

“fuuuck,” jay moans, forehead resting on yours. “your pussy feels so good baby.”

you moan and bring your lips to his as he bottoms out. you lift your arms around his neck, the belt binding them at the back. jay starts thrusting as the two of you kiss, growling as his thrusts get sloppier and harder.

“hands above your head.” jay orders.

you comply and he holds them there while fucking into you. his hips snap to yours as his balls slap against your ass. his cock is hitting every single spot in your pussy, making you see stars.

“fuck, i need you over the bed.” jay says as he takes the belt off of your wrists.

you do as you’re told, getting up and bending over the bed. jay slaps your ass, forcing you to yelp. he’s quick to smirk at the pink now blossoming on your cheek in the shape of his hand. he rubs the spot before his hand comes down on the other cheek.

“j-jay, please fuck me!” you plead, gripping the sheets. “fuck me as hard as you can!”

without a word, jay slams into you again as your toes curl. his hand goes to your hair, yanking your head back. you arch into him as he fucks you. jay leans down and growls in your ear.

“my beautiful slut,” he smiles. “you love when daddy fucks you like this huh? with his cock buried deep in this pretty cunt of yours?”

the way you clench around him says everything you cant. pleasure shoots through you at the angle you’re at, and you fist the sheets as you’re fucked.

“y-yes!” you manage. “love it daddy!”

“yeah?” jay growls against your ear. “you love being treated like my personal fucktoy?”

you nod against his grip. “yes daddy!”

when jay is rough like this, it’s easy for him to get caught up in the moment. he never, ever talks to you like this outside of rough sex. and rough sex is a rare occurrence.

“god, you’re gonna make me cum,” jay grits through his teeth as his grip on your waist turns bruising.

“cum in me,” you breathe. “fill me up.”

jay takes your head and shoves it into the mattress as his thrusts get sloppier. he’s chasing his high and you’re not too far behind.

“g’na cum!” your words are slightly muffled due to your cheek being smushed against the bed.

“cum for me,” jay says. “cum all over my cock.”

as you begin to unravel underneath him, you feel jay’s cock pulse inside of you, painting your pretty insides white. you scream in pleasure, toes curling and a grip on the mattress is nearly ripping it.

jay lays on top of you after the two of you are spent, breathing heavily into your ear.

“god, i love you so much.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. “you mean the absolute world to me and i am so happy that i get to wake up next to you every day.”

you smile with your eyes closed, heart still thrumming against your ribcage. “love you so much baby,” you mumble.

jay gets off of you and helps you up, ignoring the fact that his cum is literally dripping from you currently. the two of you are sticky from sweat and flushed. you’re pretty sure the sex sobered the two of you up, but you aren’t sure.

“c’mon,” you say as you extend your hand out. “lets shower together.”

so you do. you take the time to wash each other’s hair, kissing and softly touching each other. this results in jay literally kneeling with his back to the water as you writhe against his mouth against the tile.

once all is said and done, the two of you snuggle in bed. jambo and the other one snuggle together at the foot of the bed while the two of you wind down. jay’s arm is around you as you listen to his heartbeat. you’re both sober, having had ordered chinese and taken some pain killers just to be on the safe side.

“hey babe?” jay’s voice comes out softly.

“yeah?” you ask, looking up at him from his chest.

“when i said that i cant wait to marry you?” he asks. “I really meant it. do you think you’d wanna get married one day?”

you sit up and kiss jay on the lips.

“of course, jay.” you smile. “i can’t wait to be your wife one day.”

that night, you slept in jay’s arms just like you did every night, but there was a deeper meaning this time. he’d said that he wanted to marry you. images of your wedding flashed in your mind as you drifted off to sleep, even with your future husband needing to take a whole boob in his hand just to fall asleep.

[writingduhh]

Schlatt rq!!! Noticing someone is following u at some event and running up to him (not knowing who he is) and begging him to pretend he’s ur friend/bf/what have u and the chaos that ensues

OMHHH YESS YESS I LOVE THIS!! Hope this is alright! 💙

Unexpected Savior || Jschlatt

It started as a feeling. A prickling unease at the back of your neck. You glanced over your shoulder, he was still there. Too close. Your stomach tightened.

You turned the corner. Stopped at a booth. Pretended to check your phone. He didn’t leave.

Panic clawed its way up your chest. Your breaths came shorter, quicker. You needed to do something—now.

That’s when you saw him. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Hands stuffed in his pockets like he had all the time in the world. He looked… steady. Safe.

You didn’t think. You just moved.

Your hand gripped his arm, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve. His body tensed, and his head turned, brows knitting together.

“Hey,” you rushed out, voice unsteady. “I don’t know you, but there’s a guy following me. Can you—” You swallowed. “Can you just pretend we’re together? Just for a second.”

Schlatt’s confusion flickered to understanding in an instant. His eyes cut behind you scanning the crowd. Then, without hesitation, his arm moved.

It was easy. Natural. One moment, you were standing beside him, and the next, his arm draped securely around your shoulders. He pulled you in close, his body angled between you and the man trailing behind.

You barely had time to react before his voice cut through the air.

“The hell are you looking at?”

His tone was sharp, loud enough to draw attention. The easygoing stance he’d had just moments before was gone. Now, he was a wall, solid and unmovable.

You felt it in the way he held you, the way his grip tightened just slightly, just enough to let you know he wasn’t going anywhere.

The man hesitated. His eyes flicked between you and Schlatt, suddenly weighing his options.

Schlatt shifted his stance, his grip around you firm but careful. His voice dropped, low and warning.

“Not so fun when someone’s actually watching you, huh?” His jaw tightened. “Walk away. Now.”

A beat of tense silence. Then, finally, the man muttered something under his breath and turned, vanishing into the crowd.

Schlatt didn’t move right away. His hold around you stayed firm, protective, as his eyes lingered on the space where the guy had disappeared.

Only after a long pause did he exhale, his shoulders relaxing slightly. His arm around you loosened, but he didn’t drop it just yet.

“You okay?” His voice had lost its edge, now softer, steadier.

You nodded, though your hands were still shaking. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind exhaustion. Schlatt felt it.

He let his arm slip from your shoulders, but before you could fully process the loss of warmth, his hand settled gently on your back, grounding.

“Hey,” he murmured, tilting his head toward the café nearby. “Why don’t we sit for a bit? Just breathe.”

You swallowed hard, still trying to collect yourself. Then you nodded. “…Yeah. That’d be nice.”

Without another word, he guided you toward the café, his touch light, reassuring.

The moment you stepped inside, the world outside seemed to quiet. The hum of conversation, the smell of coffee—it felt safe.

Schlatt caught your eye, offering the smallest smile. “Better already, huh?”

You let out a breath, tension easing from your shoulders. “Yeah.”

He nodded toward a table, waiting for you to sit before heading to the counter. When he returned, he set a cup in front of you.

“Here,” he said simply.

You wrapped your hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into your fingers. “…Thanks.”

He sat across from you, resting his forearms on the table. The sharpness from before had faded, replaced by something quieter.

“I’m Schlatt, by the way.” He extended his hand.

You smiled, shaking it. “Y/N. Nice to meet you… in a really weird way.”

A chuckle rumbled from him, low and amused. “Yeah. Life’s weird like that.”

The conversation started slow, hesitant, but the heaviness faded with time. Laughter replaced lingering nerves. The café, once just an escape, became something else entirely.

After a while, Schlatt checked his phone and sighed. “I should probably get going.”

You hesitated. You didn’t want the moment to end.

Without thinking, you pulled out your phone and held it out to him. “Before you go… don’t forget to text me, okay?”

Schlatt blinked, caught off guard. Then, to your absolute delight, a flush crept up his neck. He scratched the back of his head, muttering something under his breath before grabbing your phone.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” His usual confidence wavered just a little.

You grinned. “Good.”

As he handed your phone back, his fingers brushed against yours. He froze. For a second, neither of you moved.

Then he cleared his throat, looking away with a cough. “…Y’know, if you ever need someone to walk you home. Or just wanna grab a coffee without the whole ‘life-or-death’ part…” He hesitated, then glanced back at you. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Your heart did something strange in your chest.

“I’d like that,” you admitted.

A slow, lopsided smile tugged at his lips.

“Good.”

Before he left, he shot you one last look—soft, warm. “See you around, Y/N.”

[squinch-depraved]

PLEASE PLEASE cnc lc!schlatt

nothing like going through lunch club vids and sobbing :3

this takes place during this video, reader ate a nerds rope after seeing ted have one and schlatt takes advantage

not sure if this was your vision but it was mine so

CW: cnc, dubcon, intox, degrading, breeding kink, afab!reader

the realization of how much weed you had just ingested hit you like a ton of bricks. you turned your head to look at ted, who was staring back at you, his wide eyes a mirror of yours. he would probably be somewhat okay, you decided. he was a big guy, 400 mg would be rough, sure, but he'd survive. but you, smaller than him by far, were supremely fucked. beyond fucked, actually. you had eaten a whole nerds rope on an empty stomach and were frantically looking around someone you could trust to help you stay grounded.

it's not that you didn't trust your friends; they were (mostly) good guys, you thought. but not all of them were the type of guy you wanted around to guard you in the state you were destined to be in. eventually your eyes settled on schlatt, leaning against a wall across the room and watching you with an intrigued look in his dark eyes.

you stood up after finishing your conversation with ted about how screwed the two of you were and walked over to schlatt. he didn't say anything, just kept his eyes on you, even when you got close enough to him that he was looking directly down at you.

"i need help," you asked quietly, voice trembling.

he snorted, and the hot air from his nose that hit your face made your legs weak. "i'll fuckin' say," he taunted.

"schlatt, please. can you just help me through this? i'm genuinely scared and it's already starting to kick in."

he inspected your expression carefully, and, finding that the fear was, in fact, authentic, softened his gaze. "you know i'm the worst person here to ask that of." he sounded bitter.

"i promise you, you aren't," you sighed wearily.

schlatt was quiet for a moment, contemplating the situation. finally, he let out a long breath, shaking his head and looking around before turning back to peer down at you. "only if you let me hit," he said quietly.

you were stunned. "wh... what?" you leaned in a bit, unsure of if you heard him correctly.

"you heard me. only if you let me fuck you," he bargained. "whenever i want, wherever i want, let me hit and i'll be your fuckin' guard dog for the night or whatever it is you want." he couldn't fathom why you would ask him to be responsible for your well-being, but he'd be damned if he didn't take advantage of the situation while he could. he'd been waiting so long to fuck you, and if this was how it had to be, then fine.

you agreed a lot quicker and more eagerly than he thought you would. "y-yeah!! sure, whenever, wherever, as many times as you want, whatever, schlatt," you replied nervously. "please can we just go sit down and watch a movie?"

as many times as i want? was the only thing running through his mind as you grabbed his hand and led him to a room with a tv, putting on some film you enjoyed before curling up on the couch. he stood behind you for a bit but soon you reached up and tugged at his sweater.

"c'mere, please," you asked sweetly. he rolled his eyes and stepped around to sit next to you. the way he sat was stiff, as if he was trying not to get too close to you. unfortunately, you didn't notice the way he jumped when you shifted so that you could lay your head on his lap. you also had grabbed his arm and brought it around to hold you. this is not guard dog duty, he thought to himself. he tried to ignore how much he enjoyed having you on him like this.

eventually, ted found his way to the couch with you guys, and the two of you interacted in your own little language, high out of your minds, until the third movie in a row had ended and you were both passed out. schlatt decided that you looked uncomfortable, and picked you up over his shoulder to carry you to his bedroom.

the rough grab and toss over his collarbone woke you up, but you were so far gone that you just let out an, "urnnngh," and stayed limp. he smirked slightly at the prospect of you being this helpless and threw you roughly onto the middle of the bed. this time, you were roused from your haze, and you began to complain before schlatt interrupted you.

"shh, shh, y/n, it's okay. it's me. it's schlatt, remember?" he climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. looking down at how pathetic you were, pupils blown out, face flushed, unable to hide how bad you wanted him... he almost felt bad for how he was about to treat you. "'whenever, wherever, as many times as i want,' wasn't that it?" he chuckled.

you swallowed hard, finding it a lot harder to breathe with him positioned over you like this. he wasn't even putting any pressure on your chest; he just made you that nervous. "i trust you," you whispered dreamily. the way you looked at him made him feel sick. pure adoration in your eyes and he was going to ruin you, he really should treat you to a nice dinner sometime. maybe afterward he could love you right, but tonight was about taking advantage where he could.

he started by unzipping your jacket, carefully peeling it off you as he spoke. "i think, that's the problem, though, isn't it? you really, really shouldn't." you just continued to stare at him, processing what was happening eons after things were occurring. "i've had my eye on you for months, and now, here you are, stupid enough to get so high you can't think straight, and you come to me to protect you? god, i don't know what i did to deserve this, but it musta been good."

you whimpered as he sat you up just enough to take off your top, quickly throwing your bra somewhere before immediately diving to take one of your breasts in his mouth. his eyes fell closed as he let out a small groan in pleasure, and you tangled your fingers in his hair while staring up at the ceiling through lidded eyes.

"fuck, of course your tits are perfect," he grumbled, moving to suck on the other one and kneading the one that was just in his mouth. "y'know, you'd be so hot pregnant? tits all fuckin' fat 'n full of milk, my kids in your belly... maybe i should cum in you tonight, huh?" he glanced at your face to watch as you worked through what he said and smirked when you realized. "yeah.. maybe i should breed you over and over until there's no chance of you not poppin' me out a babe in nine months. ya want that?"

you nodded as aggressively as you could in your stupor, earning a soft snort from him. "you are fuckin' pathetic, you know that?" he spat down onto your face, flecking your admiring expression with his saliva.

"only for you," you giggled. schlatt groaned and rubbed himself through his pants for a moment before peeling off your bottoms and spreading you open, smacking your pussy when you started to mewl complaints of "why am i naked and you still have all your clothes on?" you yelped and brought your hands up to cup your breasts, taking one nipple in between your fingers and playing with it. he tried not to watch you for too long, not wanting to be distracted from your pussy, which he finally had the opportunity to bury his face in, but the sight of you playing with yourself like that as you stared at him was something he couldn't tear his eyes from.

after a bit, he took a deep breath and blinked a few times, zoning back in before pressing kisses to the inside of your thighs. when he finally made his way to your core, he moaned louder than you did. the taste of you on his tongue, the way you pulled on his hair, and the feeling of your legs locking around his head were enough to have him cumming in his pants before he could even get you close. you felt his face heat up as he began eating you more passionately, most likely from embarrassment.

it took a bit, but he figured it out, and soon you were squirting all over his face, ruining the bedspread. he pulled away and looked at you like he had just solved a puzzle. you would guess later, thinking back on this moment whenever you were sober, that it was his first time giving oral. it was impressive, most guys don't get it that fast.

once he caught his breath, he wiped his mouth, shiny with your slick, on his sweater sleeve. "goddamn, you stupid fuckin' slut," he panted. "i'm supposed to sleep here tonight."

mumbling apologies, you reached out your hands and made grabbing motions, trying to signal that you needed affection from him. but he just laughed cruelly at your pitiful gesture.

"this isn't like that, doll. i'm doing my part, i'm keeping you safe from the other guys, but that doesn't mean i'm gonna kiss you or whatever the fuck it is you want," he said as he undid his pants. "you're safe from them, but not from me." his eyes tore right through you as he said it, and for the first time that night since hearing how much weed you ingested, you felt fear. he slid the dark jeans down his thighs, taking them off and dropping them onto the floor beside the bed. he was left in his sweater and his grey boxers, which you had just noticed a wet stain on the front of. the thought of him finishing just from eating you out elicited a moan from you, and he chuckled lowly as he pulled the shorts off.

you actually felt the air leave your lungs at the sight of his cock. the tip was messy, cum sticking to it and just begging to be licked off. it was big enough to scare you; you were unsure of if it would all fit without hurting too bad. schlatt watched you take in the full image of him with hungry eyes, letting you have a moment to freak out before moving to sit between your thighs.

he lined himself up with your hole easily, and positioned himself over you so he could look down at you as he slid in. he thought the expressions you made as you sucked in every last inch of him were incredibly hot, savoring the small noises before instructing, "if you're too loud, everyone's gonna hear you. and they're gonna know what i'm doing to you. so i need you to shut the fuck up, do you understand me?" he stared you down, waiting for your answer.

you hesitated a moment before nodding. schlatt just reached up and smacked you.

"use your fucking words," he growled through gritted teeth.

"yes! schlatt, yes, i'll be quiet for you," you whispered frantically.

"good." and with that, he started moving. his hips worked at a steady rhythm, and he bent your legs back after a bit. soon, he decided he wanted them over his shoulders, and once he did that, he hit a spot so deep inside you that you couldn't hold in your wails.

"fuck!!! schlatt, oh my god, please..." you babbled. you were cut off by his hand reaching and seizing your throat.

"i told you to shut the fuck up!" he said, choking you tightly.

your eyes began to flutter and roll back in your head, and he finally let go. when your vision focused again, you swore the sight of him leaning over you as he rolled his hips against yours was the most attractive thing you had ever seen.

you started to moan again, causing him to scoff and cover your mouth with his hand. apparently, the visual of that did something to him, because soon he was rutting his hips faster and faster, screwing his eyes shut and tilting his head back before slamming into you with an immense amount of force and moving to bite down on your shoulder as he spilled inside of you for the first time. he had you bent nearly in half like this, but it felt so damn good.

after a bit of him breathing heavily on top of you, he sat up and moved your legs so you wouldn't be in as much pain. you noticed he was careful not to pull out, though, keeping you plugged with his cock so his seed wouldn't leak out.

the two of you looked at each other, studying the other's face and trying to puzzle through what this was until he was hard again. and then, he was going at you once more.

this time he quickly spun you around and slammed back into you, perching you on your hands and knees for him. once you were positioned right, he was thrusting, grabbing a handful of your hair and smacking your ass every few seconds.

schlatt had given up trying to keep you quiet, and now was warming up to the idea of everyone in this area of the house hearing the abuse coming from his room. he made a game out of it, trying to see how loud he could get you to scream.

the answer was really loud. you were audible across the entire building, and it didn't help when you started repeating his name over and over. or maybe it did, because it spurred him to go even rougher, which ended up making you squirt again. he groaned animalistically at being soaked in your juices and brought his hand down onto your rear end even harder.

"'m gonna cum again," he said breathlessly, in disbelief that you were milking him like this. "three fuckin' orgasms, god, you don't know what you do to me," his raspy voice spoke.

"gimme, please, i need your load inside me," you begged, cheek flush against the mattress.

schatt groaned, a long, deep noise, and shot his hips forward one last time before cumming inside you again. he collapsed on top of you again, pinning you face down underneath him with his dick still in you.

when he got up, he immediately grabbed his phone to take a video of his cum spilling out of your hole before helping you.

he ended up taking care of you, he helped you shower and got you to sleep in his bed. it was just so that nobody would mess with you, that's what he told himself. not because he wanted you around. not because the thought of being apart from you now made him feel ill. nah, you just asked him to guard you, that's all it was. right?

[slattlicker]

Request: reader is out dress shopping for summer sundresses and Schlatt tags along. Reader tries on something white, which makes Schlatt short circuit, and suddenly, all he can think of is reader dressed in white for their wedding day. Silly, ik but you're fantastic at this sort of domestic fluff. Thank you!

╭﹐✦˚₊· 𖤐 * maybe someday ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ╮ imagine: a summer afternoon, a sundress, and a boy who looks at you like he’s already planning forever. ╰﹒♡₊˚๑ *✧﹒✦ ࣪ ˖ ┊

﹒₊✦ a/n: thank you to the anon who sent this in ♡ this one made me kick my feet the whole time—hope it gives you that same fizzy, heart-squishy feeling.

warning: soft boy behavior. iced coffee hand-holding. dangerous amounts of compatibility.

enjoy! (｡•́︿•̀｡)♡

✧✧✧

schlatt is standing in the middle of a boutique that smells like citrus and linen, holding a purse that isn’t his.

he’s got one shoulder leaned against the wall by the dressing room, bags in hand, sunglasses tucked into the collar of his t-shirt, and a half-empty iced coffee dripping condensation onto his wrist. it’s fine. it’s all fine. he’s not suffering.

not really.

it’s not that he hates shopping. okay—he does, but only when it’s for himself. this? watching you pull hangers off racks with a little hum under your breath and dart back into the fitting room with a pile of color-coded maybes? this is different.

you like summer, and you like sundresses, and—maybe most annoyingly—you like asking for his opinion.

"be honest," you called from behind the curtain, rustling fabric as you adjusted something. "this one’s not too short, right?"

he took a sip of his coffee and muttered, “you say that like i’d ever complain about that.”

you’d laughed. “pervert.”

“your pervert,” he said, grinning when he heard you snort.

that was dress number three.

he’s on dress number six now. and honestly? he’s doing fine. better than expected. the stool they gave him is cushioned, and his phone has just enough signal for him to doomscroll in peace while he waits for your next dramatic reveal.

still, there’s something twitchy under his ribs.

not bad. just… buzzing. like he’s waiting for something, even if he doesn’t know what.

he checks the time. sips his coffee again. listens to the soft music overhead—some indie-pop cover of a 70s song he can’t place—and leans his head back against the wall with a soft thud.

you’ve been in there a little longer this time.

the curtain shifts.

he looks up.

and that’s when everything goes quiet.

you step out.

you’re barefoot, adjusting the hem where it clings a little at the thigh. your hair’s a little messy from pulling dresses over your head. your arms do this quick little sweep down your sides like you’re brushing off invisible lint.

t falls just past your knees, soft and simple. short sleeves, a little lace at the edge. cotton. easy. plain, really.

but it’s white.

and schlatt’s whole body just… stills.

you don’t notice. you’re too busy smoothing your hands over your sides, checking the fit in the mirror, adjusting the straps like any other outfit. your expression is thoughtful. casual. not at all self-conscious.

you’re not trying to make a scene.

but to him, it might as well be a fire alarm going off.

his chest goes tight. breath catches. he doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s definitely not the teasing grin you’re probably expecting.

you glance over at him. “what do you think?”

he should answer.

you’re just asking a simple question. does it look good? does it fit? is it flattering?

he doesn’t think you even realize what color you’re wearing.

but he sees it.

and all he can do is stare.

not at the dress. at you.

it’s the way the sunlight from the window hits your skin. it’s the way the fabric falls. it’s the bare legs. the bare shoulders. the softness in your mouth when you smile at him without even thinking twice.

it’s nothing.

it’s everything.

he sees you like this and suddenly it’s not a store anymore. it’s a different room. a different day. he’s not in a plastic chair with a cup of iced coffee and a bag slung over his wrist. he’s standing at the front of something big. huge. irreversible.

he sees a ring. a quiet ceremony. your hand in his. a reception full of ugly crying and cake and open bar regrets. he sees a blurry photo on the fridge from that night for years to come. your eyes closed. his forehead pressed to yours.

shit. get a grip, he thinks.

you raise your eyebrows. “schlatt?”

he coughs. nods a little too quickly. “yeah. looks good.”

“just good?” you say, half-smiling. “i thought this one was cute.”

he looks at you again.

you look beautiful.

his throat is too dry. he swallows, hard.

“you look…” he hesitates, then gives up. “yeah. cute. really cute.”

you beam at him.

he tries not to look like he’s panicking.

you turn back to the mirror, tilting your head as you consider the neckline.

✧✧✧

you’re back in your regular clothes now—your usual top, your favorite jeans—and schlatt’s carrying the boutique bag in one hand like it weighs nothing.

it’s a small bag. light. one dress.

just one.

“you really didn’t have to,” you say for the third time as the two of you head down the sidewalk. “white gets dirty so fast. i’ll spill something on it within an hour.”

“then don’t spill,” he shrugs.

“i’m serious. i’m like… magnetized to stains.”

“yeah, and i’m magnetized to you, so i bought the dress. let’s move on.”

you give him a look. he gives you his shut up and let me be sweet look right back.

you huff out a laugh. “fine. but when i spill iced coffee down the front of it, you’re paying for dry cleaning.”

“deal,” he says, even though he absolutely won’t let you take it to the cleaners. he’ll just hand-wash it himself like some sad little 1950s husband with a crush.

you keep walking, brushing shoulders with him as you pass storefronts—stationery, plants, books.

and then, the jewelry store.

you slow at the window.

he does too, automatically.

you lean in just slightly, pointing at something in the middle of the display.

“that’s pretty,” you say, half to him, half to yourself.

it’s a necklace. simple chain, gold. one of those little charms shaped like a clover. delicate in a way he knows you like.

he hums. “want it?”

you blink. “what? no. i just thought it was nice.”

“i think you should get it.”

you glance at him, eyebrow raised. “you’re on a weird generosity streak today.”

he shrugs. tries to act normal. cool. unbothered. you shrug back, wiggling your eyebrows as you sidestep towards the entrance.

"let's go in, then. check it out. maybe see some other charm options."

he follows you in without thinking.

the store is bright and quiet, all glass cases and soft gold accents. the kind of place that smells like new things. clean. intentional. time slows a little when you walk in, like everything inside exists a few notches softer than the rest of the world.

you wander first, drifting toward a case near the front. schlatt hangs back a little, still holding the boutique bag with the dress inside. his fingers tighten slightly around the handles.

you lean forward, humming softly as you scan the display.

necklaces. bracelets. dainty earrings.

but his eyes catch on something a few steps over. a small, velvet-lined tray. white gold. yellow gold. plain bands, delicate diamonds. some paired, like they’re already waiting for a yes.

he’s still staring when the clerk approaches.

“hi there,” she says kindly, polished in that way where nothing feels rushed. “anything special you’re shopping for today?”

you smile first. “just looking, really. i saw a necklace in the window.”

“we’ve got quite a few charms at the back table,” she nods. “take your time.”

you’re already walking that way.

and then she turns her attention to him.

“and you?” she asks. “you’ve got that look.”

schlatt blinks. “what look?”

“the look of someone who’s either about to propose,” she says, grinning, “or thinking about it really hard.”

he freezes.

you’re not even paying attention—you’ve knelt slightly to point at something under the glass, calling softly over your shoulder, “do you like this chain or the thinner one?”

he doesn’t answer right away. not because he doesn’t hear you. because his brain’s locked in.

the clerk laughs, like she’s seen this reaction before. “no pressure,” she says. “a lot of people come in just to get a feel for it. sometimes it’s months before they come back.”

he swallows hard. nods. “right. yeah.”

she leaves him with that.

and he stands there, still gripping the dress bag, eyes flicking back to the tray.

he can picture it. you. standing here with him. picking something together. holding his hand a little tighter when they box it up. laughing nervously when the woman behind the counter says congratulations before anything’s even happened.

you call to him again, voice bright. “hey, babe. seriously—help me choose?”

he moves toward you, heavy-footed. still half in a daydream.

his voice is steadier when he gets there, but his heart is pounding.

“the thinner one,” he says, barely glancing at the charms.

because it’s not the necklace that’s got him reeling.

it’s the picture that won’t leave his head.

you. in white. wearing a necklace...and a ring. and his name on your paperwork.

someday. maybe. well, not maybe maybe. definitely maybe. the nervous type of maybe.

✧✧✧

the jewelry store doesn’t last long after that.

you don’t buy the necklace—not yet, you say. maybe next payday. schlatt doesn’t push. he just trails after you, blinking into the sun, still holding the boutique bag like it’s breakable. like he’s carrying more than just a dress.

you loop your arm through his, casual and easy, like your body already knows the shape of his. like it’s second nature. he lets you pull him along.

“snack?” you ask, already scanning the street.

“what kind of snack?”

“pretzel stand. back by the fountain.”

he grunts in approval.

you end up perched together on a low cement bench under a patch of filtered shade. there’s a fountain a few yards off, gurgling gently. the breeze picks up every now and then, lifting the hem of your shirt, playing with your hair. you keep brushing it behind your ear without thinking. schlatt keeps staring.

you split an order of pretzel bites—cinnamon sugar, warm and doughy in their little paper tray. your fingers brush a few times when you both reach in. he pretends not to notice. he also pretends not to care when you steal the crispiest one.

he’s mid-chew when you glance at him, eyes squinting slightly from the sun. “what was with you in there?”

he tries to play dumb. shrugs. “what do you mean?”

“you looked like someone threatened your life with all the diamonds in there.”

he snorts. “you’re dramatic.”

“you were pale. visibly pale. visibly sweating.”

“i wasn’t sweating,” he lies, knowing full well he absolutely was.

you laugh, light and easy, and god—he wants to bottle that sound.

you pop another pretzel in your mouth. “you ever think about it?”

he glances at you. you’re watching him now, all soft and unreadable.

he swallows. “yeah. sometimes.”

you nod. “me too.”

there’s a pause. warm and full.

“i wouldn’t want anything huge,” you say. “like, ceremony-wise. just something sweet. outside, if the weather’s good. late afternoon. not too hot.”

“golden hour,” he says without thinking.

you blink at him. “yeah. exactly.”

he shrugs, like he didn’t just perfectly picture the light hitting your skin while you walk toward him in some sleeveless, floaty little dream of a dress.

“and music,” you say. “something live. guitar, maybe? but nothing with a backing track.”

“definitely something like that,” he agrees. “you need the mess-ups and the time they spend tuning the instruments. makes it feel more real.”

you smile so wide your eyes crinkle, and his heart does something terrifying in his chest.

you tilt your head. “how many people at your dream wedding?”

he considers. “less than fifty. close family and close friends.”

you raise your eyebrows. “that small?”

“yeah. just people who really know us.”

“no one we hired to fake cry in the third row...”

“no one we have to hug out of obligation...”

“and the food,” you say suddenly, pointing at him. “has to be good. fucking amazing food. like, actually edible. no mystery chicken with orange sauce.”

“sushi,” he says, dead serious.

you gasp. “wait. i was literally gonna say sushi.”

you both freeze. then:

“jinx.”

it comes out together. you stare at each other.

then you laugh. hard. sudden. your head tips back and he watches your throat move as you giggle, soft curls falling into your face.

he smiles, helpless.

you nudge his knee with yours. “we’re kind of disgustingly in sync, huh?”

“a little,” he says, still staring.

you take another bite of pretzel, now a little cold. “maybe we’re just right.”

the words hang there. light. effortless. he doesn’t reply right away, but he doesn’t have to. you don’t need a response.

you both sit in the quiet a little longer, the way people do when they’ve said something important without realizing it.

you clear your throat. “so. uh. you wanna marry me over sushi platters and cry in front of like, forty people?”

“you’d definitely cry first, though.”

“no way, i wouldn’t.”

“you would,” he says, already grinning. “you’d start your vows, get like, two words in, and choke up.”

“okay, that’s extremely dramatic.”

“it’d be cute,” he shrugs. “your mouth gets all pouty and you blink real fast when you’re emotional.”

“shut up,” you mumble, nudging his foot with yours. “fine. i'd cry first. but only if you were wearing something that made you super hot.”

he raises an eyebrow, curious. “like what?”

“mmm… black suit. white shirt. no tie. sleeves rolled up after the ceremony,” you say, ticking it off like a list.

he pretends to think. “open collar?”

“obviously.”

he hums. “with the watch you got me.”

“perfect.”

you pause. tilt your head. “and i’d wear—”

“something soft, a little fitting but still comfortable,” he says immediately. “with embellishments that make you shine, and not the dress itself."

you smile. “you don’t even know what embellishments i'd want.”

“i don’t have to, although i probably do actually know. i’ll just know it's perfect when i see you at the end of the aisle.”

it gets quiet again, but warmer now. safe.

you rub a bit of sugar off your fingers. “would you want me to take your name?”

he turns his head to look at you fully this time. “yeah,” he says, no hesitation. “i think it’d suit you.”

you laugh once under your breath. “we’d sound so...married.”

“that’s the idea.”

you both go quiet again, grinning for no reason.

then, casually: “what would you call me?”

he pretends to think. “probably ‘babe,’ still. or ‘Mrs. My Last Name,’ if I’m trying to be annoying.”

“oh god.”

“Mrs. My Last Name,” he repeats, way too smug.

you groan into your hands. “you’re gonna be unbearable.”

“you love it.”

you peek at him from between your fingers, and something about the look in your eyes—sun-dappled and dangerous—makes his breath catch. you say it like it’s nothing. like it’s a joke. but it’s not. not to either of you.

“maybe someday.”

his heart skips. literally. like it has the nerve to hesitate. he nods.

“yeah,” he murmurs, so soft you almost miss it. “maybe someday.”