#the irregulars blurb

[fresalana]

i'll take care of you.

synopsis: first time with kate.

warnings: strap on sex.

type: blurb

a/n: kate martin hours. y'all know how much i love phantom strap. not proof read, sorry for mistakes.

"please- please don't stop-" kate was practically pleading with you as her head fell back, resting against the headboard. she was overwhelmed with the feeling of you on top of her, and she was quickly losing her mind.

"you feel so good- you're perfect," she breathed out, and her words were completely sincere. she was almost unable to articulate a sentence as a result of her bliss.

"i love you, so, so much," you whispered, your breath hot against kate's ear. you both were completely addicted, both unable to get enough of the other. your love for one another was overwhelming, and the only way to express that love was through physical touch. the sex was filled with love throughout. gentle touches and tender kisses. at first, it was steady and gentle, but now it was hard and fast.

"i love you too," kate let out a soft, low moan, and her nails started digging into the flesh of your hips. her hips rocked up when you would push down, desperate for all the friction she could get.

"harder, please, baby-" she pleaded, her head tilted back against the headboard, exposing her arched throat. kate couldn't help but think about what would happen if this ever went further. the thought of calling you her *wife* sent a chill through her body, and her chest warmed at the idea.

"you're mine, forever-" kate spoke in a slightly husky voice as she continued to thrust up, desperate to be as close to you as possible.

"i want all of you. every inch, every part, every bit."

"you're so beautiful- so perfect, all mine," she mumbled as her lips started trailing kisses along your exposed neck and collarbone, leaving little hickies in their path along your skin. her thrusts started growing harder, more sloppy, and she was getting close to the edge.

kate could tell you were overstimulated - you were getting more and more loud as time went on. your moans were getting slightly higher and more desperate, and it was driving her mad. she found herself close to the edge when she heard those pretty sounds coming from you, and she buried her face in your neck to muffle her own moans.

"i'm close-" she breathed out, one of her hands moving down to rub your sensitive clit with her thumb. your movements became jerky as you felt her fingers on your clit. you brought your hand down, clutching hers tightly, your breathing quickening.

"it's okay, baby. i'll take care of you," kate murmured before capturing your lips in a quick kiss, her thumb continuing to rub your clit at the same pace. her movements had slowed down, and it was obvious that she had other priorities in mind.

although you knew you could handle much more, you didn't think you could. with your face tucked into the crook of your neck and your breathing irregular, you were having an orgasm that felt like a freight train. kate could *feel* your sensitivity - you were practically trembling in her lap, and your body was so close to her.

"shh, it's okay-" she tried to soothe you as she felt you grip her hand, her lips against your jaw. her thumb continued its gentle, slow circles on your clit.

"i said i'd take care of you."

[zablife]

Lee congratulations on 2.5K!!!

🎉👏🏻🙌🏻 for your celebration, can I request a story with this gif? 🥰xxx

Thanks, Mar! I love the GIF you chose! Even in profile his baby blues are striking 😍 For this one, I chose to write about a young Tommy going to pick up his gf. As promised, the blurb took a naughty turn which I hope you'll find entertaining.

18+ MDNI

Just a Peek

Tommy held his breath until his lungs burned for oxygen, listening for the sounds of your household to quiet for the evening. When he finally heard your father's rumbled snoring reverberating through the wall, he knew his time had come. With crisp blue eyes eagerly darting back and forth, he ventured a hand between the lace curtains at your window to beckon you away for a night of revelry.

Ready to hoist you over the peeled and cracking windowsill as he'd done many nights before, he hesitated at the sight of your nakedness. Suddenly his mouth went dry, a lump anxiously forming in his throat, as he found himself unable to announce his presence. He knew a gentleman would look away, but somehow he couldn't stop himself from having just a small peek. Stepping back into shadow, he watched you move about the room in silent awe.

The way the flickering, orange candlelight illuminated the soft curves of your body made his heartbeat quicken in his chest, pulse rising steadily as you shifted to reveal the pebbled flesh of your breasts, nipples hardened from the cool night air. A slight breeze carried the notes of jasmine in your perfume toward him, filling his senses with a desperate need to hold you close, feeling those stiff peaks press against his shirtfront.

With every toss of your hair, he imagined gathering fistfuls in his hand as he took you in his lap, a languid fuck that would make you moan in sweet, breathy gasps. The pleasure so overwhelming you might shed a tear onto his shoulder. Thinking of you in the throes of passion made his breathing grow irregular, made worse when you decided to bend forward to retrieve your dress. Tommy gulped harshly at the sight of your glistening core, a throbbing ache growing in his trousers as his fantasies ran wild. He couldn't help but picture himself behind you, fingers clutching your hips as he buried himself in your tightness.

Despite the chill outside, he felt heat rising in his cheeks as he remembered anyone could find him there leaking into his pants like a schoolboy. Leaning down to rearrange himself, he heard the distinct lilt of your voice and his head shot up to find you leaning out to greet him.

"Have you been here long?" you asked nonchalantly, toying with the buttons of his shirt.

He cleared his throat, wondering if he should say. Shifting his weight nervously, he finally asked, "Did you know I was watching?"

Stroking a manicured hand down his face, you flashed a wicked smile. "I wanted you to."

Zablife Sleepover

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

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[kingdomofnoah]

mine all mine

noah sebastian x afab! reader

a/n: ayoooo! sorry for posting like one fic and then dipping for a while. he’s a smutty lil blurb for y’all’s enjoyment, idk why i spent 20 minutes making a header for it and named it after a mitski song leave me alone ok

anyway. warnings under the cut.

─���⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected penetrative sex, some light choking if you squint, swearing, dirty talk. that’s it i suppose

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You’re trying desperately to catch your breath, but it’s stolen with every slam of Noah’s hips hard against yours. He traces his calloused fingers down your spine, your skin a bit tacky with sweat before he lands a harsh smack to your backside. Your gasp melts into a moan that makes him laugh behind you, his fingers gripping onto both of your hips and pulling you backward to meet his own. Your back arches, lifting your ass higher and allowing him to sink even deeper with every thrust. “Fuck, baby, this pussy was made for me. She’s all mine, huh? Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” You’re still breathless, your jaw slack as Noah continues his practically punishing pace. When you don’t answer though, he lands another smack to your ass and growls out, “I asked you a question, who does this pussy belong to?”

You cry out and scrabble at the sheets with your nails, sobbing out, “Yours! Fuck, Noah, it’s yours!” You would say anything to keep him inside of you at this moment, the dizzying mixture of pleasure and pain so sweet and addictive. A groan escapes him at your declaration, an uninhibited sound that shows you he’s just as desperate to stay inside of you as you are to keep him there.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair and the nape of your neck, Noah pulls you upward onto your knees so that your back is flush with his chest. The act changes the angle again, forcing Noah to thrust his hips upward against your ass. You nearly fall forward onto the bed again, but Noah’s tattooed hand wraps loosely around your throat, keeping you pressed back against his broad chest. You reach back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots to bring his face to yours. The angle of the kiss is almost uncomfortable for both of you, but it’s so desperate and wanton that neither of you care about the twinges of pain in your necks.

His pace is becoming irregular, a sure sign that he’s reaching his end. He knows this and uses his free hand to slide it down the tacky skin of your stomach and between your legs, swirling his middle digit around your aching clit. You whine wordlessly into the kiss and he curses against your lips, mumbling out sweet little praises into your mouth. Within mere moments, you’re hurtling toward the edge and fully willing to throw yourself into bliss. Noah can tell, somehow he always can, and he keeps the steady pace of both his thrusts and the swirls of his finger. He pulls his mouth from yours, eyes fluttering at your whimper at the separation, and tightens the hand wrapped around your throat. Groaning out a curse and your name, Noah’s hips falter as he grinds out, “You gonna cum? That’s it sweet girl, cum on it. Want it so fucking bad.” The term of endearment and the command is all you need, you cry out Noah’s name and throw yourself into the pulsing waves of pleasure. Noah groans again, his hand flexing on your throat and then his thrusts falter one final time, before he pulls out and spills across your backside. “Fuck, baby.” Noah laughs breathlessly, releasing your throat but letting his hand slide down to your sternum, keeping you upright still.

You’re boneless, you would collapse into a heap on the sheets if Noah wasn’t holding onto you so tightly, and you’re still reeling with ecstasy. Noah presses kisses along your bare shoulder and up your neck, his lips warm and you hum happily. You feel soft fabric across your back as Noah wipes his spend from your skin and you venture to twist your torso slightly to face him. His eyes are bleary, sleepy already, and you peck his lips with a kiss and murmur, “I love you.” The words are a bit slurred and you both giggle at your expense.

“My girl’s a lil cock drunk is she? Mmm, god I want you again already.” Indeed, you feel him twitch against your ass and you laugh, turn to face him fully, and cup his cheeks in your palms. He presses his lips to your palm, an act so tender your heart melts.

You smile and lean your forehead against his, “My big horndog, need food first, then I’ll ride you to sleep.” You promise and he grins, pecking your mouth and sliding his hands around your hips.

“Deal.”

[god-has-entered-my-body]

Blurbs you say?? I am thinking thoughts… about matty’s dick in my mouth while he smokes a cigarette <3

This #unedited and sort of shit, but i promised myself to not to obsess over it too much. also i cant not post without a fancy title and banner bc im allergic soz xx

Go down - Matty Healy

A/N: im shit at blurbs, minors do not interact

wc: 1.5k

-

The door shuts with a loud bang, Mattys footsteps echoing through the foyer. Ridding himself of his jacket, chucking it onto the couch, he sits down next to it, an exasperated groan leaving his lips. His voice was sore, raspy from tonight's gig. Sold out, ten thousand people, all screaming the house down as Matty sang his heart out. Fans went wild as he unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, leaving all but one buttoned unfastened.

It still was, the fabric now wrinkled and slightly damp from the sweat, clinging to his body. It took everything in you to not jump onto him right at that moment, take him then and there. No, he was tired, eyes shutting as he rolled his head back, resting it onto the edge of the sofa. His voice was low as he spoke. 

“Darling?” you hum in acknowledgement, peeking your head around the corner, still trying to tow your shoes off. He waits for you to actually enter the room, a rough hand running through his gelled hair, tucking some of it behind his ear. 

“Could you pour me some wine?” Despite having been drinking the entire set, Matty always liked a healthy glass of wine when he got home, exhausted and missing your presence. Usually, you would take the time to talk about the show, what the stagehands had fucked up this time et cetera, et cetera. This time, however, you had other things on your mind, and, based on the way his eyes dragged up and down your body as you walked by, he did as well. 

You grab two glasses from the marble cupboard, setting them onto the counter. Pouring both of you a generous amount, you check yourself in the reflection of the microwave. Your hair was a bit messy, and your mascara was slightly smudged from dancing, but it didn't bother you.

“Thank you, love.” a grateful look spreads onto his face as he takes a glass from you, smiling. You place a chaste kiss on his lips, wiping a bit of dirt off his face with your free hand. Before you could even move to sit down, his hand wraps around your lower back, pulling you into an awkward kneeling position between his legs, the edge of the sofa digging into your knees. He kisses you like this, setting both your glasses onto a small table, freeing up both hands.

You shift, using his shoulders for leverage, lowering your body onto the floor in front of him. 

“What are you up to, mh?” he asks, his filthy smirk making your head spin. 

“Could ask you the same thing, undressing in front of an audience.” you mention his little display, thrusting up into air as he danced around, the screams of the crowd only spurring him on. He pretends to look offended, shaking his head in protest.

“It's art.” 

“It's insanely hot, is what it is.” you grin, hands settling right onto his belt. 

His breath hitches, breathing pattern slightly irregular as you look up at him through your eyelashes, blinking innocently. 

A quiet “Oh, fuck me.” leaves his lips, and he coughs, trying to remain composed. That proves more difficult than he thought, especially with you looking at him like that.

“Can I?” you ask, voice dripping like honey. The look on his face when you let things drag on like this was delicious, eyes drooping shut as he groaned your name. 

“Shoot me if i ever say no to that question, fucking hell.” That's all you need, your hands making quick work of the black leather belt in front of you, the sound of metal against metal so unbelievably erotic. 

Above you, you hear Matty shuffle, hands digging into the pockets of his suit jacket. Producing a pack of cigarettes, he sticks one between his lips, light not far behind. Something stirs in you when he lights it, the soft glow of the flame making him look even more attractive than he already was.  

He’s hard against the palm of your hand as you work the buttons of his trousers, pulling them down along with his black boxer-briefs. The cool air makes him groan, a cloud of smoke leaving his parted lips. The smell doesn't take long to fill your senses, so distinctly Matty. 

Not in the mood for a tease, his hand finds the thick locks of your hair, threading his fingers through it. Taking another drag of his cigarette, he watches you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth, moaning when the taste of him hit your tongue. 

He gathers your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, keeping it out of your face as you take him in, hollowing out your cheeks in that way that makes him lose his mind. 

His hand pushes your head down lightly, silently asking for permission. You let him, his cock brushing against the back of your throat, making your gag reflex kick in. Using a trick your friend had taught you back in highschool, you press your thumb between the rest of your fingers, trying to suppress it. 

Matty is shameless above you, moaning and groaning whenever you bobbed your head, incredibly pent up and desperate. 

Trying again, you let him guide himself deeper into your mouth, his sounds of encouragement spurring you on. 

“So fucking good, just- yeahh, thats it, fuck” his words go straight to your core, and you clench your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the aching pressure between your legs. 

Bobbing your head, you breathe through your nose, taking him as deep as you can without gagging, feeling him twitch in your mouth. His tip leaks salty precum onto your tongue, the smells of cigarettes the only thing you could concentrate on. You look up, your eyes meeting his right as he takes a drag, pushing your head down even further. Again, you sputter, but you don't get off.

“God, you’re so gorgeous, choking on my cock like this.” he groans, throwing his head back in pure ecstasy.

“Made for me, weren't you? Perfect mouth, shit.” his rambling lets you know he’s close, hips bucking up into your mouth, your tongue running over the vein on the underside of his cock, pulsing with need. 

Taking one last drag, he lets the finished cigarette fall onto the concrete floor behind the sofa, both hands now on your head, fucking his cock into your warm mouth. 

You moan around him, the vibrations sending curses falling from his lips, the sounds of his movements echoing through the living room. 

“I’m not gonna last, fucking- oh god.” he warns you, quickly pulling off him. Shaking your head, you raise your eyebrows at him and a small smile spreads onto your face. 

“When has that ever been an issue?” he laughs, brushing your hair out of your face sweetly. You rub your cheeks against his thigh, eyes set on his weeping erection, desperate for release. 

“Now, let me take care of you, okay?” he nods slowly, both his arms spread out on either side of him, letting you have full control. You dive back in, switching from kitten licking the tip to deepthroating him as far as you can go, his gasps of pleasure like music to your ears.

“Jesus, you‘re a fucking wet dream.” he moans, hips bucking uncontrollably as he spills onto your mouth, hot ropes of cum painting the back of your throat. His legs shake as you hold your head there, taking everything he gives you, the salty taste of him like heaven.

You stick out your tongue proudly, showing it completely clean. His hands grab your shoulders as fast as they can move, pulling you up and onto his lap. He kisses you, hard, tongue forcing its way into your mouth before you could even react. Groaning at the taste of himself on your tongue, his fingers wipe at your cheeks, rubbing off your mascara, which had started to stream down your face. 

“You're a temptress, you are.” he grins, kissing you again, softer this time. Rolling your eyes, you use your nails to scratch the back of his head, knowing how much he loved the sensation.  

“You didn't even try to resist.” you spit back, giggling at the speed at which he’d pulled you onto him, not even bothering to take his shoes off before plopping onto the sofa. 

“I didn't, did I?” 

[kaciidubs]

"I can't lose you" with channie? 🥺 - 💎

Content warning; open ended, angst Link to the list if you'd like to send in a quote for a blurb!

"I... I don't think I can keep doing this."

Those were the words that threatened to shatter his reality as he watched you pick at the pillow on your lap.

"What...?"

"This, us, it's... It's becoming too much for me to handle and I-"

"You want to leave?"

You weren't deaf to the silent 'me' that hung on to the end of his sentence, your head snapping up to finally meet his gaze ever since you'd asked if he could talk. "I don't want to, Chris - leaving you is the last thing I could think of-"

"So what are you trying to say?" When you flinched at his voice, he could've sworn he felt his heart crack; he'd never interrupted you like this, anyone like this, but his world was collapsing right before his eyes and he was panicking. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I just thought we were doing alright, you know? I thought that we..."

He thought that you'd beat the odds. He thought that in his busy, unpredictable lifestyle that he would be able to find someone to love, and have that same person love him in return. He thought that you'd be the one to bring some form of normalcy to his irregular world.

"We were doing alright!" The past tense felt bitter on your tongue, sour and spoiled that had your stomach churning, "I... I thought we were doing alright, too, I thought I was stronger than this but I'm not. I can't get past the thought that I'll never get used to the distance, to the schedules and meetings and times where I won't be able to see you for months - to the feeling that our time together is always ticking down to when you'll be leaving again and I'll just be here, alone. I-I know you're doing everything you can and I love you for that, but... I can't. I can't let you continue to bend backwards for me while I'm sitting here like some ungrateful child who always wants more, who knows I won't be able to get it because I can't handle the compromise."

You mentally curse the hot tear that runs down the apple of your cheek, wiping it away with the back of your hand, though more are quick to follow as your vision blurs.

There are so many things he could say, so many points he could make to refute every word that came from your mouth and make you see that you're more than what you think you are, but the only thing that makes its way through is;

"I can't lose you."

It's selfish, it's irrational, and he finds himself hating the fact that that's all he could say - because it's all about him. All of this is because of him.

"I can't- I won't- I don't know what I'll do without you." He clenched his jaw, fighting against the wavering of his voice as he scooted closer to you, though the distance only seemed to grow more. "Baby, please."

"Y-You'll do exactly what you were doing before we were together, us without the relationship - us when we were friends."

"Us when I wished we were so much more?" Chris urged, helplessness evident in his broken voice, "Us when I was willing to give everything up just for one day with you? When I'm still willing to give everything up, just for you?"

"Us when the pain of watching you leave would hurt less than it does now." You gritted, watery eyes locked onto his own, "Us, when the idea of you meeting someone who could offer you more than I can without the sacrifices didn't keep me up at night wondering if I'm even worth the trouble."

He opened his mouth, his retort hot on his tongue, but stopped as he took in the sheer exhaustion on your features - the harsh reality punching him in the face and stomping on his heart.

This wasn't something that could be solved with declarations of love and promises of doing better - this wasn't something he could fix.

"I love you, Chris," you breathed softly, gently taking his hands into yours - your skin still wet with tears, "I loved the idea of you, the idea of us, but I'm not ready for it - not as I am now."

"I'll wait for you." His hands squeezed yours, trembling and aching to tug you into his arms where he wanted you, where you belonged. "It's only you, it'll only ever be you."

He knows you want to dismiss his claim, you want to tell him that he's being irrational, but you don't; instead, you squeeze his hands back with a smile that does little to hide the pain in your eyes.

"It'll only ever be you, too."

[yearningandstillnotlearning]

𝐑𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞.

- B.E.

AnoTHA ONE☝️ blurb leave me alone | again no use of names, just variations of “she” and “you”

A/n: did i get sad? Yes. Did i decide to make something out of it? Also yes. Is this projecting? Maybe.(Yes.) || I projected my tendency to literally run from home when i get too upset because i need to relieve my angrers energy into something thats not entirely destructive FHFEJJKS

i don’t know if this can be categorised as angst/comfort ?? But!!1!1!! (Its surrounded by comfort but whats comfort without the need for it)

Summary: You and Billie have been together long enough for her to see your vulnerable side, it didn’t take long to but it did take a lot of strength to. And this happens to be one of those times where you need nothing more in the world than to go home!

——･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─: *.☽ .* :─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.——

A blurry road ahead, a big blob of blended colours and shapes danced to the sound of irregular nose-huffs. Forehead sweaty and a hefty backpack bouncing on your back.

You’ve gone this path countless times, by now you can go there blind. Your body remembers all the turns and miles. Like your body needs to reach the destination.

You hadn’t realised just how tiring running this whole thing was until she came in the view - until you saw that short, long haired woman standing right outside, waiting for you, the woman that always knows what you need.

Strict hard nose breaths soon turn into open mouthed pants, bouncing bag thrown to the ground somewhere, anywhere off you, and you finally let your rivers flow.

A melody of countless “i’m sorry”’s spilling out your mouth as soon as your body comes in touch with hers, pairs of hands holding the other body like their own lives depend on it, mutual emotion being held and shared in and through both bodies.

She’s seen you this way a number of times, she has not once thrown a rejection at your vulnerable emotions needs, but thats not enough for your overworking mind.

The lock of arms around your waist and up your back giving you a squeeze, shushing hushing noises coming to caress your ears - “shh its okay angel, its okay. I’m here with you, i am here for you.” - caring the same like a mother would to her child, or maybe a person who’s not quite full when their sweetheart isn’t.

Words that go in through your ears, and circulate along your insides as if made to soothe you whole, whats a painkiller better than love?

“I’m sorry.” you sighed with the loss of a last deep breath. Composing yourself to pull away, managing to turn your head to face her, face red like a tomato and makeup running all along.

“Its okay,” she gave a small chuckle looking back at you, an affectionate hand reaching out to hold your face. “I know.” A voice just above a whisper.

For a moment while you look into her eyes, you think you can almost feel them. Like your burning teary face can feel the breeze and like the darkening evening sky suddenly shines all its stars above her.

While you’re focused on her eyes you lose track of everything else - like the fact that your breathing is now calm, your shaking hands have turned gentle. She noticed those though, taking your hand in one of hers and your backpack in her other.

“So what do you wanna do?” ..

“Im feeling a movie”

“So movie night it is!”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

[lilmissnatcat24]

Electric Sheep Chapter Five- Siri, Play Somebody I Used To Know

Cerberus plans their next mission. Shepard and Garrus finally find themselves alone.

pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

rating: Explicit

tags: Lovers to enemies to lovers, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Minor Character Death, ,Violence, Blood and Gore, Torture, Disturbing Themes, Dual POV, Earthborn (Mass Effect), Ruthless (Mass Effect), Mass Effect 2, Whump, Eventual Smut, Requited Unrequited Love, Mind Control, Pining, so much fucking pining that even i'm a little disturbed, Hurt/Comfort, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, OC Central, a kid show called the electromenom that teaches shepard about basic physics, yet another cliffhanger ending (sorry), second in series

cover: done by the stunning @/milkywayes!!!!!

lil text blurb

Several things occurred to Garrus in the span of one second. 

One: he was beyond stupid if he thought he could go about destroying Cerberus from the inside out on a mission that would roughly take half a year, and think he could avoid this conversation with Shepard the whole time. 

Two: he was acutely aware that his heart had started beating at irregular intervals, which only seemed to happen when she entered a room. 

And three: he couldn’t give the Spectres a reason to hurt her. 

His directive was abundantly clear. The Spectres didn’t care who was on board-- if they were involved with Cerberus, even if they were forced into the mission with a pistol trained at their head, they were a liability. Humanity was getting too big, too loud, too quickly. The natural balance of the galaxy only worked when concessions were given by the other species. Cerberus threatened that balance, which already hung precariously. Anyone involved was guilty by association, and Garrus was meant to be the judge, jury, and executioner. 

At least, that’s what Elx told him. 

[mayghosts]

Taglist!!

Hi friends, I was hoping to start a taglist so I can keep everyone updated. (esp with my irregular uploading). Feel free to comment below or DM me to join any of these list options, and I will add you to this post!!

1.) All works: Any standalone fan fic, series update or headcannons

- @ayannatv, @smiths-fan--13

2.) Little Gold Top: Any updates to the fic or regarding the fic

- @stydiaownsmyheart,

3.) High Infidelity: Any updates to the fic or regarding the fic

- @stydiaownsmyheart, @marriedtomoneymartin

4.) Short Works: Any fanfic I publish that's NOT part of a series (headcannons, blurbs, short stories etc.)

5.) Specific Person: You will be tagged in any of my fics that are centered around that person! PLS specify who when you dm me!!

Kate: @stydiaownsmyheart,

Paige: @stydiaownsmyheart,

Caitlin: @stydiaownsmyheart, @marriedtomoneymartin

6.) Snow Angel: tagged in any uploads or updates about the fic

- @justareadernotawriter1, @hellokittyfeenie

[aforestescape]

all of my works can be found here

they tend to be gender neutral and afab but i’ll also write male reader, and trans reader afab or amab

marked ⚠︎ for explicit

simon ‘ghost’ riley

demisexual!simon p1. p2. p3. p3.5.

teaser roommate!simon walking in on you masturbating ⚠︎

blurb reader overheats easily

black!reader simon helps you with your wash day

autistic!reader how simon helps you when you need stimulation ⚠︎

older boyfriend simon and younger reader ⚠︎

dating ghost vs dating simon

ramble biting simon's cock when you're cranky ⚠︎

ramble pathetic wet cat

trans!reader stalker/rapist ghost pays you a visit ⚠︎

kidnapper!simon and his content new pet

kidnapper!simon and his grateful pet ⚠︎

johnny ‘soap’ mctavish

what a creep - johnny has cameras in your place ⚠︎

ramble johnny morning text ⚠︎

ramble t4t switch johnny and reader ⚠︎

ramble johnnys a mutt

roommate johnny who’s a bit of a whore

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick

kyle lending a hand while you’re on your period

teaser kyle letting his buddies use his bunny ⚠︎

kyle letting his buddies use his bunny ⚠︎

john ‘bravo six’ price

nothing important i just need that old man

john helping his love with an irregular cycle ⚠︎

konig

pervert!konig using your toy to get off ⚠︎

pervert!konig using his face ⚠︎

nerd!konig fingering you while gaming ⚠︎

pervert!konig and unplanned pregnancy ⚠︎

letting your loser friend use you in your sleep ⚠︎

simon and johnny

adorable. now give them both a boyfriend

prelude to prev where benefits start ⚠︎

collared johnny

marriage of connivence x best friend trope p1.

extras

ramble most likely to avoid serious relationships

ramble monster au ft kate and the boys

ramble 141 as ghosts/spirits

my tags are

posts under #aforestescape

rambles under #forestrambles

teasers under #aforestteaser

[kiwicopia]

🔞 Toji Fushiguro Masterlist 🔞

Key

🍑 = female reader

🍆 = male reader

🍓 = gender neutral reader

⚠️ = spoilers

🎂 = birthday special

🔅 = fluff

✳️ = angst

💠 = smut/suggestive

🩸 = blood & gore

🔪 = yandere

The Summoning (Incubus fic) 🍑💠

Animal Attraction (blurb) 🍑💠

♥️ Irregular posts | Likes & reblogs ♥️

Divider by benkeibear.

[vpyre-hornyposting]

Okay, Terzo post for once! (re: this gif from my last rb on main)

(In the upcoming blurb, cock could refer to a strap or a dick. You decide :3)

Someone in the tags said something about needing him in their lap and it jolted my brain like a goddamn cattle prod. Now I’m thinking about Terzo in my lap, riding me; circling his hips so he can feel me at every angle, prodding at different places inside him, filling him and stretching him deliciously. Thinking about him swinging his hips from side to side to inch further and further down onto my cock until he bottoms out, head falling back and mouth going slack.

A breathy moan spills from his lips and he closes his eyes as he rocks forward, liquid smooth and graceful, reveling in the feeling of me rubbing up against his walls with every movement. He rides me with slow, fluid thrusts, mouth still hanging open, a steady stream of blissful sounds flowing freely forth. Little by little, he quickens his pace. I can see it in his face when he starts to lose control, feel it in the way his hips begin to stutter and jolt, hear it in the way his moans deepen. He sounds hungrier, more rough and debauched. Desperate.

His hips snap rapidly back and forth, irregular and erratic and not good enough. He lets out a whiny growl of frustration and grips my shoulders to adjust his angle. Up and down, up and down. Obscene sounds- wet squelching, skin slapping against skin, lust-heavy groans and gasps- fill the air as he fucks himself open on my cock, bouncing fast and hard, desperate to feel me deeper and deeper inside him. More, more, more-

A keening, shuddering cry bursts from his throat and he convulses, white strands of cum pulsing from his slit as his dick jumps and twitches. He buries his face in my neck as he rides out his climax, trembling and spasming and panting.

[cupiden]

blurb…loki feels no remorse after almost killing you hurt/angst

she almost died. the explosion leading to a fire not far from the central place of the city almost cost her her life and it did effectively kill other people, that, she was sure of. the city was in ruins since the avengers came to save the day. as she took a walk through what was left of the city she saw loki standing in front of a pile of scrap metal. you didn’t even question why he was there in the first place, she was just so relieved to see him.

loki had taken a liking to her a few months ago. she met him through tony and clint, even though she wasn’t part of the team and considered a civilian. as he would comment on how stupid humans were, she loved to make fun of his "all knowing and all mighty" facade. that led to a lot of banter and most importantly a lot of fun. in the span of 6 months, he became one of her favorite people in this universe.

no one knew why loki stayed on earth. he got offered to go back home multiple times since he was basically considered harmless now. so it was unexplicable how a literal god would voluntarily talk to some girl that happened to know a couple of avengers. she isn’t even friends with the right ones. it was pathetic, he thought.

she jogged to him as soon as she saw him, still feeling the adrenaline in her legs from earlier. the closer she came to him the more he seemed deep in thought. as if the world was on his shoulders. when she reached him, she just stood right next to him, staring at that same pile, in silence.

"you’re not dead." he comments flatly still not looking at her.

"never." she answers as she attempts to replicate his tone.

"it didn’t work.." loki says, as he seems to drown in his thoughts.

"what should’ve worked?" she answers and slightly turns her head towards him while keeping her eye on the pile.

"the fire, it didn’t work. i set it and it seemed like nothing but little fireworks." this time, loki sounded almost humorous with his tone. the only time that he wanted to laugh, it wasn’t funny.

when the realization dawned on her, she was hit almost immediately by a wave of emotions that she tried to control through her breathing. why did he do it? and why to innocent people who asked for nothing? she knew he wasn’t a hero or anything but she still believed he had somewhat of a moral compass. and he knew that she was in the area? is it why he did it? or was it just because? as she felt herself getting more intense, the best way to describe the way she was feeling inside, her breathing increased.

"so why’d you do it?" her breathing was becoming irregular. she fully turned her head to look at him for the first time since she jogged up to him. she was trying to calm herself down from the impending flow of tears that was threatening to happen.

loki looked away for a second and took a deep breath. he didn’t know how to answer her without proving to her that he is every single thing people say he is and that there’s nothing that she can do about it.

“maybe i wanted to watch the world burn.” he states simply with narrowed eyes and his body fully facing her now.

he doesn’t care, she thought. everything he succeeded to make her believe about him, how he wasn’t what everyone thought he was, how genuine and caring he could be at times. she was in disbelief. taking a deep breath she has a realization that terrifies her but that she still wants the answer to.

“with me along with it? she further questions, tears starting to flow delicately down her face. the air was icy and the way her face hurt started to feel exactly like how her heart was breaking, it seemed.

“yes, darling. you along with it.” loki sighs while looking down at her face with flattened lips. he seemed to gauge her reaction after he said that.

how could a nickname disgust her so much when it fell out of his mouth? he really earned his title of god of mischief, she thought.

he continued, "i don’t know exactly what you were expecting me to say or do but i’m not here to fulfill your little fantasies about some love story. i am a god." he insisted on that last sentence. he knew deep down that what they shared wasn’t like teenagers falling in love. she started to feel like home and it terrified him. and with that, he left her side, without looking at her once.

credits to @celestialwrites for the prompt idea!

[theblurbwitchproject]

The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna

Published: August 23, 2022 Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton

The Author

Sangu Mandanna writes books about magical sketchbooks, romantic witches, and characters who discover they’re a lot stronger than they think they are. She was four years old when an elephant chased her down a forest road and she decided to write her first story about it. Seventeen years and many, many manuscripts later, she signed her first book deal. Sangu now lives in Norwich, in the east of England, with her husband and kids.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

The Story As one of the few witches in Britain, Mika Moon knows she has to hide her magic, keep her head down, and stay away from other witches so their powers don’t mingle and draw attention. She’s used to being alone and she follows the rules...with one exception: an online account, where she posts videos "pretending" to be a witch. She thinks no one will take it seriously. But someone does.

An unexpected message arrives, begging her to travel to the remote and mysterious Nowhere House to teach three young witches how to control their magic. It breaks all of the rules, but Mika goes anyway, and is immediately tangled up in the lives and secrets of not only her three charges, but also an absent archaeologist, a retired actor, two long-suffering caretakers, and the handsome and prickly librarian of Nowhere House, Jamie.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

The Vibe: cosy, found family, (one-sided) enemies to lovers, romance, eccentric characters, grumpy/sunshine pairing, diverse cast, LGBTQ+ characters

The Style: standalone, cosy romance, easy-going prose, wholesome, whimsical

Trigger Warnings: discussion of past homophobia, child abuse, abandonment issues, sex

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

The Review

You know what? I loved this book.

I’m not a big reader of romance, and am often turned off by cutesy sounding plots, but I am so glad I gave this a go. I was in a pretty bad reading slump, just not really enjoying anything I picked up, but this sweet little novel really pulled me out of that funk. I’ve seen negative reviews of The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches calling it too “twee” but seriously... the title alone tells you twee is what you’re getting, let alone the protagonist being named Mika Moon. I picked up this book wanting twee, and it was lovingly presented by Mandanna.

As the blurb explains, the plot centres on Mika, an Indian born witch in her early-thirties who only gets to interact with other witches at pre-decided meetings once every three months. These meetings are run by Primrose, the powerful witch and stickler for the rules who raised Mika. The rest of the time the witches avoid each other so as not to draw the public’s attention to their power. When Mika is invited to care for three young witches at Nowhere House, who, going completely against the rules, live under one roof as adopted sisters, she encounters something that she has never had but desperately wants; a family. Now, I’m a sucker for a good found-family trope, and this book really delivers on that front.

“Over the years, Mika had embraced all the things that made her different and had discovered that she liked herself very much. But what was that worth without human connection? How was it possible to live, truly live, without the companionship of other people, without a family formed in any of the thousands of ways families could be formed?”

The writing style is very easy-going, but where Mandanna shines is creating unique and diverse characters, including: Ian, an elder gay “luvvie”-type English theatre actor who knits rainbow scarves; Ken, his Japanese, professional gardener husband; Lucie, the round-cheeked and loving housekeeper; and Jamie, the scowling but handsome Irish librarian. And that’s just the adults of Nowhere House; the three young witches are also fantastic: there’s Rosetta who is 10, black, friendly and an avid reader; Terracotta, 8, Vietnamese, rebellious and  fierecly protective of her family, and Altamira, 7, Palestinian, hilarious, and maybe my favourite character in the entire book. And lets not forget Circe, the friendly golden labrador.

One of the outstanding aspects of this story was the examination of intersectionality among the different characters. Each of the witches at Nowhere House not only have magical powers, but are people of colour living in England; “They were witches, they weren’t white, and they’d been born far away. Much as they might all wish otherwise, there would always be people who would question whether they were British enough, normal enough, anything enough.” I also admired the inclusion of Ian and Ken’s desire to protect the young girls, having their own experiences living on the fringes of society. It’s all so thoughtful. And the characters are all so lovely, even cranky Jamie who  has “the soul of a cantankerous old man who yells at little kids to get off his lawn”, but in actuality likes kids more than he does most adults. The found family aspect feels so solid in this book; they feel like they have years of history. Nowhere House also feels super cosy and real- I want to move in like yesterday.

“It’s not always enough to go looking for the place we belong,” Jamie said, his eyes on the house ahead. “Sometimes we need to make that place.”

As I said earlier, I’m not massive on the romance genre, but I did enjoy the grumpy/sunshine pairing in this story, it has a good slow-burn progression that felt natural. And it gets a little spicy too, just fyi. I did enjoy that there was reasoning behind Jamies’ attitude; he’s not just a crank for no reason. Like Terracotta, he is fiercly protective of his family unit and puts their safety before anything else.

There is a good level of new witch-lore in this story, from witches going into a state of hibernation if they get seriously injured while their body repairs itself, to the methods Mika uses to harvest ingredients for her potions. The only thing I wanted more of was the inclusion of the lessons Mika delivers to the girls. They’re all so entertaining, especially Altamira, who is a perfectly written child who drops some hilarious swear words even though she’s only seven. And her logic of “I’ll stop when Ian and Jamie do” is totally fair in my book. Seeing more of their growth and development as young witches would have been great, particularly as that was the reason behind Mika’s moving to Nowhere House to begin with.

“The thing is, being a witch is extraordinary,” she said. “It might seem sometimes that all we are is odd and different, but the truth is, we’re amazing. We’re part of the earth below us and the sky above us. Our veins echo the patterns of rivers and roots. There’s sunlight and moonlight in our bones.”

This book was just so nice. I desperately want a sequel or five. There are plenty of options for world building, and I want more of Rosetta, Terracotta and Altamira learning to control their powers. Sangu, if you’re reading- pretty please expand this lovely universe? It was a lovely escape from reality that I will probably return to in the future.

Rating: 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌗 

[Goodreads]

[spoopydooblr]

The Ken and Stella pregnancy blurb was so good could you write one where they find out that she’s pregnant?

ive been thinking about this scenario a lot and i cant really decide how i want this to go . . .

i think a year or so after they get married (stella is like 30ish) they start to really do their research and find the best fertility clinic in the city. its been almost 20 years since kendall and rava struggled to get pregnant, but still, he's not feeling optimistic.

stella gets a clean bill of health from the doctor, but ken isn't so lucky. just as he suspected, he was the problem. again.

was it the drugs? he was clean now, but he used so much...could he have ruined his chances forever?

stella assures him that it'll be okay, but she never went through what he had to 20 years ago.

they decide on a couple of treatments. they're both taking shots every day and pills at night and its exhausting. most of the meds go to kendall, but stella has to take some too, just in case.

they begin with intrauterine insemination, which is pretty simple and painless, but stella gets her period two weeks later. its hard on both of them, but especially kendall because he knows it's him, not her.

next they try ivf, which is a lot more complicated and expensive (not that money is an issue). now they both have to do injections and stella goes in for her egg retrieval.

the egg retrieval goes better than expected and they're left with 10. ken's sample has some relatively viable sperm so they pull the trigger and try to make some embryos.

the waiting is by-far the worst part, because deep down kendall knows there's no way those embryos are going to get made with his shitty sperm. he's right, unfortunately, and they're back to square one with zero embryos and ten now-frozen eggs.

kendall suggests a donor, like they did with iverson. stella's heartbroken, but they start to look into other options.

because they have the best doctors, however, they get into a trial for a new drug that increases sperm count and viability. stella is thrilled and insists kendall try it, but it's another injection and he's not super happy about it. nothing has ever worked for him, why now?

it's nice to have a break from more intense treatments, so they agree and kendall marks his torso up with injection pricks again.

three months later, ken and stella are enjoying some time off from surgery and tiny, microscopic cells that control their lives. kendall's in new york for the week, working on some financials for their production company (i imagine them making something rival to waystar and completely taking over the media scene), and stella is holding it down in los angeles, or at least trying to.

it's flu season and she's been to so many fancy parties in the last few weeks, stella is sick as a dog. she's a little worried, but the nausea, vomiting and headaches are typical for the flu, right?

she also chalks her late period up to stress. but it's been at least a few weeks...

the day before kendall is supposed to come home, stella drives herself to the hospital after she can't stop throwing up.

"when did the symptoms start?" the doctor asks.

"a week ago, i think, but ive been feeling kind of off for a while."

"and there's no chance you're pregnant? when was your last period?"

stella's heart skips a beat.

"um, i'm not sure. we're trying, uh, but it's been unsuccessful. my period is really irregular and i've been stressed so--" she trails off. "we've been trying for a couple of years."

"and are you taking medication?"

"i did, but it's not really..." she thinks for a bit. "it's not a uterus issue, it's my husband."

"and what is he taking?"

she tells the doctor about the new medication kendall is taking. "it's only been three months, so we're still hopeful. or at least i am."

"i've heard some great things about that new drug. it's really changing people's lives." the doctor smiles, turning away from stella and writing something down. "i'm going to order some tests, but i think you're fine."

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

kendall, obviously, sprints to his jet when stella tells him she's sick. she insists she's fine, but wants him to come home as soon as he can, which stresses him out to no avail.

he bursts through the door four hours later, finding stella reading a magazine on the couch.

"stell!" he says, running towards her.

"hey baby." she hugs him, bringing him down to the couch with her. stella presses her lips to his, but kendall is confused.

"aren't you sick?" he pulls away.

her face breaks into a huge smile. "about that..." stella gets up from the couch and walks to the kitchen.

kendall looks at her quizzically, as she comes back with a piece of paper in her hands.

"i have something to show you." she says, holding the paper close to her.

"okay..." kendall smiles at her, utterly confused.

stella carefully sits next to him on the couch. "here."

kendall recognizes the picture immediately. he used to frame them when rava was pregnant with iverson.

"what is this?" he holds up the ultrasound. it's too good to be true, right? tears prick his eyes.

stella is crying already, and takes his hand. "that's inside of me."

he looks down at the black and white photo again. a fuzzy, bean-looking object sits, next to another, smaller object. he's speechless for the first time in his life.

"what is that?" he whispers, pointing to the smaller object on the page.

stella looks at him, and he really can't read her for once.

"this surprise comes with another surprise." she laughs.

kendall's crying, but he takes another look. "is that..."

"yeah."

"two?" he smiles wide.

"i'm pregnant." she finally says, putting her hands on his cheeks. "baby, we're having twins."

they both burst out into crying giggles, hugging. kendall kisses her all over, stopping at her stomach. it's still pretty flat, but he knows her body so well he swears he can see a tiny bump growing.

THIS WAS SO FUN AND LOVELY TO WRITE I LOVE THEM AND I HOPE U DO TOO

[illfoandillfie]

Hi! I’m the same anon from the “Lazy Sunday” ask. First off, you’re welcome! It’s a brilliant story! As far as blurb ideas go, I always go back to the line where Reader tells Roger that he’s going to make a “dorky dad”. I kind of like the idea of a blurb taking place later in time where Reader is trying to tell Roger that she’s pregnant and keeps getting interrupted throughout the day. But you’re the amazing author, I’m sure that you could probably think of something much better than I could. 😊

Blurb Advent 2023: Day 1

Anon this is an amazing idea, I apologise it took so long for me to write anything for it lmao but here it is, the sequel to Lazy Sunday, and the first of the 2023 Advent prompts!

No warnings for this except a few suggestive themes and that Roger's a bit of a dumbass skfksfjskdj

Also editing on these has been minimal, so ignore any typos/weirdness lmao

9.28 AM 

As soon as the phone rang you grabbed it. Roger was upstairs, gathering up some scribbled song ideas that he’d left floating around which, thankfully, meant it was easy to have a quiet conversation with your doctor to confirm the results of your test. You were pregnant. It all felt a little surreal. You hadn’t even realised you were late at first, mostly because you never properly tracked your cycle so you hadn’t picked up on the irregularity until you were really really late.  

There had been a conversation, of course. You’d sat down and talked about what it would mean, how it would work when Rog toured, whether both of you felt capable of raising a child. And you’d agreed you were in a good place if it happened. Roger had been diplomatic and calm during the chat, always acknowledging when things would be hard, never getting too caught up in things like how little and cute baby clothes are. But you could tell he was excited at the thought of starting a family. He’d always loved his friends kids and it was clear he was more than ready to try having a few of his own. Luckily you felt the same, though perhaps a little more apprehensive. But remembering that had made you decide to keep it from Roger until you were one hundred percent certain, just in case you were wrong. 

But now that you knew it was happening all you felt was relief. It was a relief that you’d been right, that you could give Roger the good news, that you wouldn’t be disappointing him with a false alarm. But it was also a relief that there wouldn’t be months of agonising over why you weren't conceiving, worrying that there was something wrong. It had happened fairly easily. As bad as it might sound, it had happened without you really even trying. All you’d done was tell Roger when your pills last ran out and then didn’t go get new ones. It was less effort than you usually made. Neither of you had done any more planning than that. You’d not thought to track when you were ovulating, not changed anything about your lives that might have impacted fertility. You didn’t even really have sex any more than usual since you were having it fairly frequently anyway. It was very much a ‘wait and see’ kind of approach, almost lazy even. And apparently it had worked.  

The reality of what the doctor had said began to properly sink in as you hung up and you let out a little squeal of excitement while you had the room to yourself. Roger had to know as soon as possible, of course. And when you heard his hurried footsteps, muffled only slightly by the carpeted stairs, you moved out into the hall to catch him. He didn’t seem to notice you were bursting with news, leaning in to kiss your cheek as he apologised.   “Sorry love, I’m running late. I’ll see you later, okay? Love you.” And then he was out the door before you could even begin telling him to wait.   You blew out a breath, a little annoyed, but it was fine. You’d just call him and give him the good news and maybe make him feel a little bad for leaving so quickly. It usually took him about half an hour to get to Freddie’s place so you headed upstairs to dress and get ready for the day.  

10.15 AM 

Freddie answered after a handful of rings and after a minute or two handed to phone to Roger.   Unfortunately, upon hearing his voice, you realised you didn’t really want to tell him over the phone. Pettiness in response to mild carelessness was not a good reason and you really wanted to see his reaction in person.  “What is it love?” Roger asked after you’d been too quiet for too long, "Is everything okay?”  “Oh, yeah,” you said, trying to laugh in a casual sort of way, “I just wanted to check what time you’ll be home. You were in such a rush I didn’t get a chance to ask and I was thinking of doing something nice for dinner but if you and the guys are gonna be at it until late I won’t worry.”  There was a pause from the other end of the line and then Roger said, “Ohhhh I get love. I know what this is.” His voice was a little hushed like he was trying not to be overheard but it didn’t stop him from sounding cocky.   “No, that’s not it.”  “Was that what you were trying to tell me when I left? It’s okay, I get it.”  “You get it?”  “Y’know it’s kinda hot that we’re not using protection, and we didn’t fuck last night. I bet you want me desperately by now. Might have to resort to that toy of yours, at least until I get home. Which will be round fiveish at the latest I think. And I promise you can have whatever you need then.”  You were still trying to sputter out an answer, to tell Roger how wrong he was, when he hung up. And for a moment or two you were incapable of moving, listening to the repetitive beep that signalled the end of the call, as you wondered whether Roger’s stupidity was genetic.  

12.45 PM 

You thought about it a lot through the day, trying to come up with a fun way to tell Roger. A few years before a friend of yours had surprised her husband with a mug that said ‘Number 1 Dad’ on it. At the time you’d privately thought it was beyond cheesy but now it seemed kind of cute. You didn’t want to copy exactly what she’d done but an alternative didn’t jump out at you immediately, so you kept thinking about it as you went about your day. At one point you considered baking a cake and writing the message in icing. That idea morphed into making a loaf of bread so he could discover the bun in the oven. The problem with both was you’d never been much of a baker and you didn’t want to waste ingredients making inedible food. Then you thought maybe you should just run to the local shop and find a card, or perhaps some baby clothes. Keep it simple and impossible to misunderstand. But neither was a particularly exciting idea. If you were going to do something it should be fun and interesting. Besides, you didn’t really feel like leaving the house. At some point you got it stuck in your head that you could make him a more personalised announcement, maybe a card with a reference to one of his songs, or perhaps cut up old magazines to make a collage. But nothing really seemed to stick. You’d think the idea was good for about two minutes, and then you’d look at what ingredients or craft supplies you had, and decided it was a horrible idea that would never work. So you kept thinking.  

4.08 PM

Roger wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to your throat, “Don’t worry love, I’m here. How do you want me?”  You’d not even heard him come in. The TV had masked the sound of his keys but you’d been in your own little world anyway, very aware that you were running out of time before he’d be home and you still didn’t have a cute way of revealing the news. The suddenness of it all – his voice all low and gravely against your ear, his lips on your throat – was a shock and, unthinkingly, you blurted out a few incomprehensible noises and then, “no- I- you- daddy.”  Roger paused, moving around to better see your face, “Oh, that’s new. I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing but hey, I’ll give it a shot. Is it just calling me Daddy or is there more to it? Is this where all that like bondage stuff comes into it?”  You snorted with laughter and pushed him back a little, “No, dumbass, you surprised me. I was thinking about something else.”  “What?” he asked, suspiciously, “Can’t be your actual dad cause I’ve never heard you call him daddy before. What other daddies do you know?”  “Well....theres you. I’m pregnant.”  Roger stopped and blinked a couple of times like his brain had short circuited. “You are? Really?”  “Yeah, got the confirmation this morning. I tried to tell you but you were in such a rush.” Most of it was said laughingly into Roger’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tight. 

[lottiecrabie]

Can you please do a blurb about pfms matty with a new girl and he feels guilty cause no one when make him feel as good as the reader does

THE ANGST IN THAT BLURB💔 could we get Mattys pov of it where he sees that he made her cry?

last blurb’s twin<3

delaney is sitting in his lap and she’s tangible. she smells like vanilla perfume. her hair tickles his jaw. her thigh is smooth under the tip of his fingers, checkered with fishnets. she resonates against him as she laughs, some low rumbling he feels on his chest. her hips grind into his once in a while, all under the pretext of shifting position, a masterful artifice if it wasn’t for the teasing look she throws his way right after.

delaney is real. he can’t keep lingering on the immaterial, on the mind, on bubblegum drop fantasies. on her.

still, he can’t muster more than a fake smile as she winks at him. can’t get excited. can’t get hard. his girlfriend rubs herself on him and all he can think of is how it’s different.

there’s none of the tentative shyness, an irregular motion as she learns. none of the stifled pride as she starts seeing her effect. none of the bite of lip, holding back the sweetest moan. none of the burning look, calling for him; for his fingers and his mouth and his cock. none of the thrill.

it’s too purposeful, too known. half of the fun is the childish devilish stare as she grinds, feeling like the height of seductive temptress from so little. it’s the giggle she holds back as he squeezes her hip. it’s the messy dance, made perfect because it’s hers.

so matty is not into it and it’s making him feel like shit. he can’t keep comparing the two of them, pitting them against each other without their knowledge. it’s not fair to delaney. she never wins.

he should end it. he can’t keep stringing her along, kissing her and fucking her and dating her, and pretending like it could be enough to satisfy him. like he could be complete from the leftovers.

delaney twists, whispering in his ear, ‘do you want to get out of here?’

matty clenches his jaw to stop himself from cringing. ‘not yet,’ he says, then tries to soften the blow with, ‘george isn’t even here yet.’

she nods, nestling herself further into him. ‘alright, we can wait.’ he already dreads the lining up and burying, eyes wrinkled closed like flashes of her don’t permeate his brain.

his eyes swipe on the party. he stumbles on her by accident— a crowded room and his stare still stutters on her. his breath hitches, choked in his throat.

she stares at him straight on. she hasn’t looked in weeks, but she’s watching him now. like a trainwreck, like a car crash, like a horror movie she used to bury in his shoulder to hide from.

his finger stills on delaney’s leg. his heart beats faster. her eyes drop to the damning hand. her eyebrows furrow, eyes melting wetly. she’s— fuck, she’s hurt.

his ribcage slashes open. acute pain spreads through his limbs, twisting around his bruised heart and squeezing.

it’s his fault. she’s staring at him like he’s just shot through her heart and it’s his fault. he lets his hand fall from delaney’s thigh, landing on the couch. the scratchy material barely registers.

she takes a deep breath, blinking away the sight of him. shaking her head, she gulps down wine straight from the bottle. she didn’t like the taste when he first gave her a sip of wine, thought it was too church-y. how ironic. she turns around.

matty watches her go. delaney burns in his lap, but it’s righteous punishment. the fire proves he’s real.