#was working with the reflection of the screen i was drawing on

[tencentbounty]

pov you’re my iPad while i’m bored at the airport

[icewindandboringhorror]

indeed my exact process once every 8 months or so

[urmum-lovesme]

The Globe

pairing: Biker!Rafe Cameron x Stripper!Reader

summary: Rafe and Y/n both work at ‘The Globe’, the best strip club on the island, known for their famous ‘globe of death’ performances. Although their relationship is meant to be strictly professional, they can’t seem to deny the tension that lingers between them one night after they perform…

a/n: So I saw these two videos on TikTok of these girls in the globe of death, and It had me thinking, that's so Rafe x Reader get out. Especially with all the screen time he gets in season 4 with his bike 😫. This is my first smut tho so please don't murder me.

Here's the Link to the Inspo! => 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

warnings: !SMUT! basically porn with a plot, reader is a stripper, reader is wearing barely any clothing, Strip club, dangerous motorcycle riding, the globe of death, pole dancing, aerial hoop dancing, reader is a tease, making out, nudity, oral sex (male receiving), spitting, hair pulling, handjob, fingering, dirty talk, begging, praise kink, dom!Rafe, p in v, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, mentions of cum, degrading terms.

The hum of the club was already starting to build. Neon lights flickered along the walls, casting dim glows over the velvet-draped walls. In the dressing room, Yn sat at the mirror, applying the final touches of her makeup. She powdered her face carefully, making sure every detail was perfect. Her lips were a shade of pink, glossy and sparkling under the lights of her vanity, just the right amount of shine to catch attention. Her hot pink two piece clung to her skin, sure to attract eyes with the material clinging to her skin, pushing her tits up, which she brushed over with highlighter. 

‘The Globe’ was legendary, not just for the flashing neon lights that beckoned to the island’s nightlife but for its reputation as the best in town. It had earned its fame not through ordinary striptease acts, but through its center stage: the Globe of Death, an enormous metal sphere. Inside, motorcycles roared, their tires skimming the metal walls whilst in the center of it all stood the performers—suspended in the air, spinning in a dance. The act was dangerous, thrilling, and hypnotic, drawing crowds from all over the island. Tonight, the club was packed, as it always was on a weekend. The pulsating beats of the music filled the air, mingling with the scent of alcohol and sweat. 

A sharp knock at the door broke Y/n’s focus.

Her hand hesitated, lipgloss in mid-air, she didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. 

Rafe.

Her lips tightened into a thin line as she set the gloss applicator down against her lips carefully, her eyes still fixed on her reflection. She didn’t want him to know how much his presence affected her, even when she fought against it.

“Come in” 

She said, her voice soft but clipped, betraying nothing. The door creaked open, and Rafe stepped inside. His silhouette was framed by the hallway lights, tall and confident. The leather jacket and body armour strapped to his chest made him appear every bit the part of the club’s star rider. His gaze flicked over her, lingering a moment too long, before he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Big night” 

He asked, eyes lingering on her body, Yn met his gaze through the mirror, her expression neutral. 

“As usual.”

But Rafe didn’t move. His eyes were intense, almost predatory, studying her in a way that made her pulse quicken. “You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone,

“Been thinking, maybe tonight, we take it a little further…”

Yn’s fingers gripped the makeup brush now in her hand pulling it back from her cheek, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She didn’t want to admit how much that suggestion stirred something deep inside her. 

“Beyond the usual routine?” 

She asked, her voice curious. Rafe appeared pleased at her interest, stepping closer, his arms folding. 

“What’s the point of doing things the same every night, Yn? We both know we could make it more… exciting.”

The words hung in the air, charged with unspoken meaning, and Yn’s breath caught in her throat. There it was again- the unrelenting tension between them. They both knew they wanted to push the boundaries, but neither one was ready to admit just how far they were willing to go. Yn arched her brow as she caught his reflection in the mirror, her lips pressing together as she placed the brush down onto the vanity. She expected him to talk, but the weight of his silence forced her to finally glance at him through the glass. Rafe’s arms were still crossed, his jacket straining over his biceps as he leaned casually against the doorframe. He let the moment stretch before finally speaking. 

“I want you to start on the floor tonight.”

She paused as she blinked at his reflection, they’d never started with her on the floor before, she was always hung up on her hoop, body curved in tune with the music. She raised her brow. 

“Start on the floor?”

His smirk grew as he took a step into the room, his voice calm but with an edge of challenge. 

“In the cage on the floor. Before I start riding.”

Yn stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched him through the mirror. He stayed rooted behind her now, his arms still crossed and his dark eyes locked on hers, unreadable and unrelenting. The tension in the small dressing room thickened, buzzing like static electricity.

Without a word, she turned in her seat, the plush hot pink fluff of the wide stool brushing against her thighs as she faced him fully. She had to look up at him, her fake lashes fluttering as her gaze traveled upward to meet his. Her head was level with his abs, and the faint scent of leather and motor oil clung to him, and she could smell his cologne mixing with the smell.

Her gaze dipped lower, catching the chunky, decorated belt buckle that drew her attention. Slowly, Yn raised her hand, her fingers brushing against the metal, tracing over the ‘R’ in its center before gliding her skin over the worn edges and grooves of the design. The act was deliberate, her touch light but intentional.

“And why do you think that’s a good idea?” 

She asked softly, her voice carrying a hint of challenge. Rafe didn’t move, his smirk unwavering, he knew exactly what game she was playing, she’d been doing it for months now.

“Large crowd tonight, you on the floor while I circle around you will bring more money,” a shadow of a grin on his face as he continued, “I know you’d do anything for money- Sugar.”

His eyes looked down at her as he spoke, the name resting around her neck on a sparkling silver chain slipping past his lips. She tilted her head, her fingers lingering on the buckle as her lips curved into a faint smirk of her own. 

“And what happens if your timing’s off?”

“My timing’s never off.” 

He said, his voice low, almost a growl as he took a step closer, leaning slightly so she was almost eye-to-eye with him. Yn’s lips twitched upwards as her fingers drifted from the buckle to the belt loop just beside it. With deliberate slowness, she hooked her finger into it and tugged him closer, her gaze never leaving his. The move caught him off guard for only a second, but it was enough for her to notice the way his jaw tensed. Rafe shifted his weight slightly, and for the first time, his composure wavered. He licked his lips, a quick flick of his tongue that gave away more than he probably intended. She tilted her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked up at him, her finger still hooked in his belt loop. 

“What if I say no?” 

She asked, her voice was delicate, but Rafe’s eyes darkened, and for a moment he just stared at her, fighting against the urge to shove her back against the vanity. He ducked his head down slightly, closing the distance between them until their faces were mere inches apart as he shook his head at her and responded,

“You won’t” 

He murmured, his voice smooth and confident. Yn’s breath hitched, her hand tightening ever so slightly on his belt loop. She couldn’t look away from his eyes, the intensity in them pinning her in place. Rafe’s voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper now, as if the words were meant for her ears alone.

“You like the adrenaline.”

Her pulse quickened, and she hated that he could probably tell. Still, she didn’t let him see her falter. Instead, her lips curved into a small, defiant smile as she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe I do” 

The tension between them crackled like a live wire, but the sound of the distant crowd and loud blaring music- snapped them both back to reality. Rafe straightened slowly, eyes fluttering down from her eyes to her tits, the supple curve of her skin looking back up at him. 

“They’re out there waiting. Don’t make me carry this show on my own.”

She let out a quiet breath as he made his way out of the dressing room. At the door frame, he paused, glancing back at her one last time, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze, before disappearing down the corridor; and although he was gone her heart was still racing.

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

The club was alive, pulsing with energy that seemed to seep into every corner of the massive space. The ‘Globe of Death’ stood proudly in the center, illuminated by beams of crimson and hot pink lights that swept across its surface. Surrounding it were glittering poles and platforms, alluring dancers twirling and spinning with practiced ease, their skin catching the light, sequined panties and bras shimmering in the caught light as the bass-heavy music vibrated through the air. The smoky artificial haze, added to the dreamlike quality of the club. Voices rose and fell, mingling with the pounding beat that seemed to sync with the pulse of the crowd. The multi-level layout gave every guest a perfect view of their choice, each floor something else, but all eyes were beginning to drift toward the center of the club, where the main event was about to begin.

Rafe was already inside the metal walls, perched on his well recognised motorcycle. He revved the engine, the low growl slicing through the music and catching the attention of those closest. He shifted slightly, his gaze scanning the room, searching for one person in particular.

Yn moved effortlessly through the crowd, her presence magnetic as she worked her way closer to the sphere. She was in her element, the teasing smiles, coy touches, and soft laughter flowing from her as naturally as the smoky haze that filled the air. A hand brushed her bare arm, and she turned, letting out a low, playful giggle as a man slipped a fifty dollar bill into the waistband of her panties. Her fingers grazed his wrist, lingering just long enough to keep him hooked, before she moved on, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music as she made her way toward the edge of the crowd. She caught sight of the managers clustered near the DJ booth, signaling that everything was almost ready.

From his perch inside the globe, Rafe watched her. His hands tightened on the handlebars as his gaze tracked her every move, the way she charmed the crowd, her easy confidence making her the undeniable center of attention- even outside the spotlight.

His jaw clenched slightly as another man leaned in close, his hand brushing Yn’s skin as he tucked a bill under the strap of her bra. Yn responded with a smile, whispering something to the man, tipping her head back just enough to show off the delicate curve of her throat, the perfect image of playful seduction.

Rafe’s engine roared louder, the sound cutting through the club like a warning shot. A few heads turned toward the globe, and even Yn’s smile faltered for half a second as her gaze flicked toward him. Their eyes locked from across the room, and she tilted her head slightly, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. He was always prone to act out wherever she got too friendly with the customers.

The crowd was starting to gather closer, the lights above brightened, casting Rafe in sharp relief as he revved the bike once more, the sound vibrating through the floor beneath their feet. Yn moved closer, finally reaching the edge of the globe, her eyes still on him. She rested a hand on the steel cage, her lips parting slightly as she looked at Rafe. 

The lights shifted, the rhythm of the music dipped, creating a hush that spread through the room, and then the manager’s voice boomed through the speakers, smooth and commanding. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, drawing out the words as the anticipation grew thicker, 

“Tonight’s main event is one you don’t want to miss. So, put your hands together and make some noise for our best girl… our one and only- …Sugar!”

Rafe revved his engine, the growl of the bike perfectly timed to the announcement, and the room erupted into cheers and applause, whistles piercing the air as the bass dropped back into the music, pounding in time with the audience’s energy. Yn’s smile was dazzling, her confidence radiating as she stepped forward.

Rafe extended a hand toward her from inside the cage, his leather-clad arm steady as his dark eyes met hers. She placed her hand in his, her fingers delicate against his rough, calloused palm, and she climbed over the edge, stepping gracefully into the globe.

Inside the cage, the two of them stood just feet apart, the tension between them palpable, even with the steel separating them from the audience. Rafe’s hand lingered on hers for just a second longer than necessary before he let go, giving her a nod as if to say, you ready?

Yn returned the look with a sly smile, her lashes fluttering as she took her place in the center of the globe. The spotlight shifted again, casting her in a halo of light as the heavy doors of the cage clanged shut with a resounding finality, locking Yn and Rafe inside. Above them, the metal ceiling whirred, and a hot pink hoop began to descend slowly, its polished surface catching the light and glinting. It hovered just above Yn, swaying slightly as if beckoning her to take her place.

She glanced at Rafe, her heart pounding, though her expression remained unreadable. His helmet was on, the reflective visor obscuring his eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was watching her, but she felt his focus nonetheless, a magnetic pull that seemed to reach her even across the enclosed space. Yn hesitated, her gaze flickering between the hoop and the man across from her. Start on the floor, his earlier words echoed in her mind, daring her, taunting her.

Her lips twitched into a faint smile.

She turned her head toward the operator controlling the hoop, her movements smooth and confident. She raised her hand, giving a small, deliberate signal. The operator nodded, and the hoop rose just a bit higher, clearing the space around her but staying within reach. 

When she turned back, Rafes head was already faced in her direction, the bike idling beneath him as he leaned forward slightly, his gloved hands steady on the handlebars. Even with his helmet hiding his face, she could feel the unspoken approval vibrating in the air between them. Yn’s smile deepened as she stepped into the center of the globe, her head tilting ever so slightly in Rafe’s direction.

The first notes of the song blasted through the speakers, the heavy bassline reverberating in the air and signaling the start of their routine. Yn’s body reacted immediately, the familiar rush of adrenaline sparking to life and coursing through her veins. Her hips began to sway in perfect rhythm with the beat, each movement fluid and hypnotic. Her hands slid down her sides, over the curve of her hips, and back up to her waist, brushing up against her tits, pushing them up slightly; every motion deliberate. 

Behind her, Rafe’s bike roared to life, the sound cutting through the music like a blade. He shifted into gear, the bike lurching forward before gliding smoothly into motion. The crowd watched intently as he began circling her, the steel walls of the cage echoing with the sound of his tires and engine. Yn stayed in the center, unshaken by the vibration of the bike under her feet as Rafe rode closer, the rush of air brushing against her skin with each pass.

And then, without warning, she felt it.

A gloved hand slid against her waist, the touch firm yet fleeting as Rafe’s bike roared past her. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her movements faltered- just for a heartbeat- before she caught herself and fell back into the rhythm of the music, hands raising above her head, giving him more access to her skin. He came around again, and this time his hand brushed against the curve of her stomach, it was subtle, yet it sent a shiver racing down her spine.

He’d never done this before, never reached out mid-performance. 

Yn felt it- felt the deliberate nature of it, the way it made the air between them crackle with a charge that wasn’t part of the show.

As Rafe continued his path, his hand skimmed her again and again, following the circular motion of his bike as if he were tracing invisible lines around her body. Yn didn’t dare look at him, but she could feel the weight of his focus, the intensity of his presence wrapping around her like the walls of the globe.

Yn extended her arms up, fingers brushing the polished surface before gripping it firmly. Her muscles tensed as she lifted herself, her body moving with practiced grace as she adjusted her position. The crowd cheered as the hoop began to rise, lifting her higher into the globe’s confines.

For a moment, she hung motionless, her body suspended, on display like a jewel in the center of the cage. One hand released the hoop, leaving her to dangle precariously as the audience gasped. Then, with fluid precision, she transitioned into a two-handed grip, her body curling and stretching as she performed a series of intricate, mesmerizing movements. The music pulsed, growing louder as the beat synced with the rhythm of the performance. As Yn spun herself around the hoop, her body arched in perfect symmetry, she felt the sudden, firm touch of Rafe’s hand on her calf. With his guidance, she spun in sync with his path, her body following the momentum he created. Her legs extended gracefully as he moved her, the interplay of the bike’s roar and her ethereal movements creating a performance that had the crowd watching at the edge of their seats.

The routine builds to its climax, Rafe’s bike roaring beneath him as he veers sharply, taking the cage’s vertical walls with an almost reckless abandon. The crowd holds their breath as he pushes his bike into a full arc, his wheels now nearly inverted. Yn, suspended in the air, watches as Rafe defies gravity. Her heart races, the adrenaline coursing through her, matching the beat of the music as she curves her body. The two of them are in perfect sync, finishing the routine with a breathtaking drop as Yn lands lightly on her feet, breathless but exhilarated.

The crowd explodes into applause, the cheers echoing as the music fades out. 

Rafe’s helmeted face glimmers in the light, and Yn’s chest rises and falls with the rush of the performance. The doors to the Globe of Death creaked open slowly, revealing the dim lights of the club beyond, their flickering glow casting long shadows on the floor. The roar of the bike’s engine faded, leaving only the sound of heavy breaths and the buzzing crowd.

Rafe, still behind Yn, moved with purpose as he pulled his helmet off, his hand brushing his buzzed hair. He watched as her chest rose and fell with each breath, her body decorated with a slight sheen of sweat from the performance, which made him want to lean forward and lick it off her skin. She was still catching her breath, her body pulsing with the aftermath of the rush.

Without warning, Rafe’s hand landed lightly on the back of her upper thigh, his fingers lingered for a moment, and though his voice was hushed, it carried a weight that only she could hear. 

“Atta girl” 

He murmured softly to her. Yn looked back at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were locked onto hers with an intensity that was felt even beneath the helmet. The chemistry between them flared, the feeling of his hand against her skin, warm and steady, sent a thrill through her, deepening the connection they shared.

Rafe’s gaze flickered down to Yn’s lips for a brief moment, the suggestion behind the look undeniable. Yn felt the shift in the air, the unspoken desire hanging between them, and she couldn’t help but notice. But just as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she looked away, the reality of their setting grounding her back to the present. 

They were still at work, after all…

She made her way out of the cage, her heels clicking against the metal floor, her body still pulsing with the adrenaline of the performance. Rafe followed close behind, his steps steady but purposeful, his eyes drifting down to the way her ass looked in her pretty pink panties.

Yn didn’t walk through the crowd this time. Instead, she moved up onto the small dancing platform situated in front of the globe, a familiar spot for her after a performance. The stage was raised just enough to give the crowd a better view, and as she stepped up, the patrons eagerly threw bills at her, their hands reaching out to add to the chaos.

The money rained down, some landing on her body, others falling to the floor of the stage, but it didn’t matter. The customers loved it- their eagerness evident.

From by the cage, Rafe stood, watching as the money cascaded around her. His gaze didn’t leave her for a moment, the scene unfolding like a dance with Yn at the center. His eyes followed each piece of cash as it landed, but they always returned to her, lingering in a way that felt almost possessive.

Yn slowly circled around the pole, hips grinding against it as her fingers glided along the smooth cold metal, moving with practiced grace. Her eyes flickered to Rafe, and she glanced over her shoulder, the teasing glint in her gaze matching the sensuality of her movements. She gently bit her lower lip, a playful challenge in the way she held his gaze.

Rafe’s reaction was instant. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes darkening as he followed her every move. His stare didn’t waver, but there was a moment of almost painful restraint in him as he watched her. The tension between them hung thick in the air, both of them aware of the silent exchange.

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

After the performance, Yn made her way back to her dressing room. The sound of the music faded as she closed the door behind her, the silence settling slightly, her body still humming with adrenaline, the heat of the performance lingering on her skin. She quickly made her way to the vanity, taking in a deep breath as she sat down. The reflection in the mirror was a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction- her makeup slightly smudged from the sweat, but the glow in her eyes remained.

Before she did anything else, she reached down and pulled the money from the waistband of her panties and the straps of her bra, gathering the bills into the  small basket she kept for such moments. As she wiped the sweat off the back of her neck and touched up her makeup, her thoughts kept drifting back to Rafe- the way his eyes had followed her…

Yn was changing her heels, the soft rustle of fabric and the click of the shoes as she slipped them off and reached for another pair. Then the door opened, and she didn’t immediately look up, assuming it was one of the other dancers but when the door clicked shut softly, she turned her head, confused by the silence that followed. 

There, standing in the doorway, was Rafe. 

He’d closed the door behind him and was now leaning against the frame, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable, as if he’d been waiting for her to notice him. Yn pressed her lips together, fighting the smile threatening to break through. There was something about the way Rafe stood there, calm and composed, that made her want to tease him. 

Barefoot, she held her shoes loosely in one hand, her perfectly manicured toes pressing against the cool cement floor. She slowly straightened up, her movements deliberate as she let her gaze move up to meet his. With a slight tilt of her head, she locked eyes with him, Yn couldn’t resist teasing him. With a small, knowing smile, she turned and gracefully made her way to her fluffy stool, sitting down slowly. Her eyes never left his as she leaned back slightly, resting her arms against the vanity behind her. The soft, cushiony fabric of the stool seemed to accentuate the way her posture shifted, back arching, pushing her chest forward- relaxed but with an undeniable air of confidence.

Rafe watched her every move, the space between them growing thicker with the weight of the tension. He took a few steps toward her, his gaze locked on hers, when he finally reached her, he looked down, his expression unreadable for a moment. Yn met his eyes, her sight flickering to his lips before returning to his eyes. She didn’t move, watching him closely as his hand reached out, coming to rest under her chin. He gently lifted her head, encouraging her to tilt her head upward just slightly. 

The touch of his hand was like a spark, making her pulse quicken.

His thumb brushed over her lower lip, slow and deliberate as he tugged it down slightly. Yn held her breath, her lips parting ever so slightly as his thumb traced the delicate curve. The tension now suffocating as Rafe licked his own lips, his eyes darkening just a fraction as he held her gaze, every movement charged with anticipation. Rafe’s thumb lingered on her lower lip, for a heartbeat, neither of them moved, both caught in the weight of the charged silence. Yn’s breath hitches slightly, as Rafe’s lips part, and his voice comes out low, like a challenge. 

“You know you want this” 

He murmured, just barely audible, his breath warm against her skin. He leaned in as if to say something more, but at the last second, he held back, his eyes waiting, letting her decide.

Yn’s pulse quickens, she could pull away, play coy, act like nothing’s going on. Or, she could lean into this- let the magnetic pull between them take over. She smirks slightly, a playful challenge in her eyes.

Slowly, she reaches up, her fingers brushing against his hand that’s still resting at her chin. She lets her fingers trace lightly over his knuckles, teasing, deliberately slow, savoring the moment. Then, as if unable to stop herself, she brushes her lips against his thumb again- just barely, enough to make him feel it.

He’s on the edge, and she knows it. 

Yet she doesn’t pull away; instead, she leans in just a little closer, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her lips. Without warning, she catches his thumb between her teeth, biting down gently, tongue flicking over the tip of his skin.

Rafe freezes for a moment, his entire body tense, the spark of frustration and desire mixing in his chest, the playful bite- the teasing gesture-  riles him up more than he cares to admit. His grip tightens on her chin, eyes darkening with a mixture of amusement and hunger.

Yn stays seated, inches away from him, and she can feel the heat radiating off Rafe as he hovers in front of her. Slowly, she runs her hand up from his abs, feeling the muscles tighten under her touch, before slipping her fingers under the collar of his black t-shirt. 

She hooks her finger into it and pulls him closer, her eyes never leaving his.

Rafe is practically leaning over her now, his other hand coming to rest on the vanity behind her, bracing himself as he leans down. The space between them is practically nonexistent- his face only inches from hers. She watches the way his pupils dilate, the tension in his jaw. Yn lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, the only sound between them their labored breathing. Then, in a voice that’s barely above a whisper but still charged with challenge, she speaks.

“It’s all yours if you want me… ”

The invitation hangs in the air and she watches him closely, her lips parted, waiting for him to make the move.

Rafe can’t take it anymore. His breath catches as he leans down, closing the space between them. His lips crash into hers, hungry and fierce, pulling her into a kiss that’s been building for far too long. She leans back against the table of the vanity, giving into the kiss, letting him take the lead, both of them finally surrendering to the moment they’ve both been fighting to resist.

As Rafe pulls her in, Yn’s hand slides up from his chest, her fingers trailing along the rough fabric of his t-shirt before curling around the back of his neck, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her touch. She pulls him closer, her fingers brushing over the back of his hair, her thumb gently grazing the side of his neck as their lips meet in a wet, desperate kiss.

Her other hand, now free, moves to his cheek, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension there as he deepens the kiss. His breath mingles with hers, and she can taste the urgency in his movements, both of them finally giving in to the magnetic pull. 

Rafe’s hand moves from the vanity to her chin, his thumb brushing over her lower lip before sliding down her neck. He lets his fingers drift along the curve of her jaw, palm sliding over her collarbone, before finally resting at her waist. His grip tightens slightly, pulling her closer as he leans in, his body pressing against hers in a way that makes her heart race even faster.

The space between them shrinks with each passing second, and before long, she’s tilted her head back slightly, her body melting into the kiss. Her legs instinctively move, wrapping around his waist, drawing him in closer as their bodies press together with a newfound urgency. Her fingers still hold his neck, feeling the weight of him on top of her, his hands sliding to her hip now, slyly moving down to her ass as he grabs it roughly. His lips are everywhere, trailing down her neck, before coming back to her mouth, making her feel dizzy.

As the kiss breaks for just a moment, Yn’s hands move urgently to Rafe’s jacket, pushing it off his shoulders; she can feel the tension in his body, the tautness of his sleeves pulling against his defined arms as he shrugs it off. Her hands move instinctively, running over his arms, feeling the strength beneath her fingertips. Her grip tightens on his biceps, pulling him closer, she can feel his muscles flex under her touch, and it’s too much to resist. She shifts slightly, her legs still wrapped around him, as she breathes heavily, eye-lids heavy, her pupils blown wide with desire. 

She pulls back from his kiss, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and looks up at him through a haze of longing. Her fingers trail down his arms slowly, inching their way to the hem of his t-shirt. She hooks her fingers underneath it, running them along the ridges of his abs, her breath catching in her throat as she feels the heat of his body beneath her touch. She locks eyes with him, her voice a husky whisper as she says, 

“Take it off.” 

The words hang in the air, charged with anticipation, as she waits for him to respond. Rafe’s breath hitches at her words, and with a quiet, almost possessive growl, he pulls back from her slightly. The fabric clings briefly to his skin, and as he quickly pulls it over his head, his toned, muscular frame is revealed.

“This what you want Sugar?”

His chest is broad and defined, the muscles sculpted beneath smooth skin, with deep lines of tension running down to his abs. Every inch of him is hardened with muscle, from his solid biceps to the sculpted lines of his abdomen. The soft light from the vanity reflects off his skin, highlighting the curve of his shoulders and the strong, defined V of his waist. 

Before Y/n can stop herself, her fingers are reaching out, brushing against the hard planes of his chest. The touch is tentative at first, like a spark igniting, and her fingers trace the lines of muscle along his shoulder, moving down slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. 

Rafe’s pulse quickens, and he watches her with hooded eyes, noticing the way her fingers linger on his skin, exploring. Yn shifts, sitting up slowly, her body moving with a deliberate grace. She positions herself closer to him, her eyes locked with his, dark with desire, and her breath hitches as she moves forward, now inches away from his bare torso.

With a teasing glint in her eyes, she leans in, her lips brushing lightly against his abs. The touch is slow and deliberate, a soft kiss against skin, sending a ripple of heat through both of them. Her lips linger just long enough for him to feel the warmth, before she pulls back, her gaze still fixed on him, waiting for his reaction.

The simple gesture sends a shockwave of desire through Rafe. He watched her, his breath shallow, heart racing, his jeans were so tight against his cock it was becoming painful. Yn shifts forward again, a bit closer this time, her lips curving into a teasing smile. She doesn’t rush, taking her time as her gaze flickers between his eyes and the hard planes of his torso. Her fingers graze over his skin, and without breaking their eye contact, she presses another kiss, this time a little lower, just below his navel.

She pulls back slightly, letting the tension build before she leans in again, planting a few soft, lingering kisses along his abs, her lips moving slowly, reverently. Each kiss is deliberate, as though she’s savoring the moment, every inch of his body. Her breath is warm against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Her hands rest lightly on his sides, her fingers curling into his muscles as she continues, her lips brushing against his skin with a soft, teasing rhythm.

Rafe, unable to control himself any longer, reaches out his hand, threading through her hair and gently gripping the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. The sensation of her lips against his skin, is making him lose his mind. He groans softly as his fingers tighten in her hair, urging her to keep going, his body leaning in toward her with a need he can no longer ignore.

As Yn continues pressing soft kisses against Rafe’s abs, her hands move slowly, trailing from his sides to the front of his pants. Her fingers brush over the edges of his waistband before they find the chunky belt buckle, the metal cool under her fingertips. She runs her fingers along the indents and details of the design, feeling the strength and texture of it. She leans back slightly, her eyes now locked onto the buckle as her hands toy with it, slowly flicking it with a teasing, deliberate touch. The tension in the room thickens as Rafe watches her with a deep intensity, his hand still holding her head close, his grip tightening as she continues to play with him.

With a slow, steady movement, Yn pulls at the buckle, glancing up at him through her fluttering lashes, her gaze daring to push him over the edge. The heat between them simmers just beneath the surface, every touch, every movement. Yn’s fingers brush over the buckle again, this time more deliberately. She feels the cool metal beneath her touch as she works it loose, unfastening it with a slow, steady motion. 

The sound of the buckle clicking open echoes in the silence of the room, and for a brief moment, there’s a pause - the anticipation hangs heavy in the air.

Rafe’s body goes rigid for a split second as he watches her. His hand tightens in her hair, a silent warning, but the way his gaze darkens only heightens the heat between them. He leans in closer, but he doesn’t move, not yet. His eyes flicker between her hands and her face, his jaw tight with restraint.

Yn slowly slides her hand away from the belt, meeting his gaze with a challenge of her own. She smirks slightly, her lips brushing over the edge of the buckle as she pulls her hand back. The act of unbuckling it and then teasing him, is enough to make Rafe’s resolve crack, his hand moving from her head to cup her face, roughly pulling her chin up to look at him grunting out, 

“Get on your knees.”

As Rafe holds her face with his hand, Yn shifts slightly, siding off the stool and moving onto her knees, the cold floor cooling her burning skin. She’s eye-level with the bulge in his jeans, and the sight makes her squeeze her thighs together in an urge to relieve the ache between them. She looks up at him, her eyes half-lidded, watching the flicker of restraint in his expression faltering. Rafe’s hand stays on her face, his thumb brushing along her jawline as he continues,

“Take them off.” 

She reaches for his belt buckle again, teasing him with her fingertips, but this time, her motions are more deliberate as she moves further, unbuckling it fully. Her fingers pop open the button and draw down the zip, fingers curling into the waistband of his jeans and pulling them down, leaving him in his black brief, the material tight over the outline of his hard cock. Rafe’s breath hitches at the movement, but he doesn’t pull her closer. Instead, his hand tightens on her chin, lifting her gaze back up to him. The way she’s kneeling, her body drawn closer to his, causes his voice to drop lower, now edged with more command than it was before.

“You gonna behave for me Sugar?”

Y/n bit her lip as she tilted her head up to look up at him, hand coming up to press his hard on over the material of his briefs, Rafe let out a low moan at her movements, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Losing patience he roughly grabbed Y/n’s chin as he leaned down towards her,

“You want my cock baby?”

She hummed back in response nodding her head, bottom lip still caught between her teeth, he pulled her head up closer to him, tone harsher,

“Use your words”

“Yes”

“What?”

“Yes please”

Y/n could feel the arousal dampening the material of her panties. She was sure if he told her to take them off, he’d see the way the wetness made them stick to her pussy. Rafe let out a hum of satisfaction as he tugged down at her bottom lip again, thumb slipping between her teeth pressing her tongue down, prompting her to open her mouth. The girl complied, mouth slackening instinctively for him. He leaned down closer, eyes locked onto hers, as he spit into her mouth, the girl letting out a whimper as his spit hit her tongue. 

“Yes please what”

“Yes please Rafe” 

“Good girl” 

He grunted, standing straighter as his grip on her chin dropped, letting her move towards him. Her hands slid up from where they rested on his upper thighs, slipping between his skin and the elastic of his briefs, pulling the material down and letting his hard cock free against his lower stomach. She shuffled closer to him, knees sore from the hard floor, but she didn’t care, she was too turned on to pay attention to things that weren’t his cock in her mouth. 

His hand brushed some of her hair out of her face as her hand wrapped around his length, moving up and down slowly; causing Rafe to let out a breath. She leant forward, licking a stripe up from the base to the top of his cock, tongue swirling around his sensitive tip, evoking a low groan from him. She spat on his length, hand working the slick up and down, the wet sounds, along with their heavy breathing filled the room. She tapped the tip against her lips, Rafe’s hooded eyes watching her every move as she rested him against her tongue, lips wrapping around his cock, hollowing her cheeks as she moved down his length. He jerked his hips forward at the feeling moaning out huskily, 

“-Fuck” 

She hungrily worked at him, gags passing her lips as he rutted into her occasionally, struggling to hold back as he let out deep moans, her warm, wet mouth ever so inviting. Beads of precum leaked from his slit, and Y/n lapped them up eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as she savoured the warm, salty taste.

“Such a fucking slut… shit-”

He bit back a moan as he suddenly gripped her hair, pulling her back and muttered harshly, 

“Get up” 

She rose on shaky legs, standing in front of Rafe as his hands slid down to her thighs, unexpectedly lifting her up effortlessly, causing her to steady herself on his shoulders. He moved towards the leather sofa in the corner of the room, placing her down onto it, the material of the blanket below her soft on her skin. 

“Rafe-” 

She whimpered out her thighs squeezing together, she was so aroused now her panties were completely soaked, the material sticking to her needy pussy. His hands pressed against her skin, sliding up from her calves to her knees, where he spread her legs open for him, her back arching up slightly as the feeling of the cool air between her thighs. He tutted as he guided his hands further up her body, fingers snapping the waistband of her panties against her hip, causing her breath to hitch,

“Please” 

He slowly pulled them down her legs, a string of her slick connecting her pussy to the material, causing him to groan out, 

“Fuck- look at her baby, so needy for me hmm?”

Rafe bunched the panties in his hand, shoving them onto the couch as he leaned down to her, littering wet sloppy kisses over her neck, the girls hand coming out to grip at his bicep as she lifted her hips up to meet his, letting out a soft moan at the friction. He pulled back from her, immediately pushing her hips down, hand firmly over her stomach, 

“Good girls wait Y/n”

She shook her head as she whined out, hands grabbing at his shoulders trying to pull him closer, but his firm frame stayed motionless. 

“Don’t tease…”

He shook his head, a smirk slipping onto his face as he looked at the desperate girl, her usual confidence now gone. This time however, his hand fluttered over her inner thigh, causing her to bite harshly at her lower lip. 

“How bad do you want me?” 

He mocked as his hand slid up further, brushing faintly over her aroused pussy causing her to mewl out,

“So- so bad.”

“Yeah?” He asked, satisfied glint in his eye as he watched the girl trembling beneath him, “Beg me then.” 

Her eyes looked to him, staying silent  

“No?” 

He questioned, she could feel his body heat against hers and it was driving her insane. The hand which she rested against the couch, now clenched the blanket she layed on tightly in her grip. 

“So I guess I won’t touch your pussy then-”

He started pulling his hand away, sitting up slightly, causing her to snap,

“No!- no please… please touch me Rafe I’m so wet for you please… - need you so bad baby, need your cock so bad.”

At this point she didn’t care about the humiliation of the brainless rambles passing her lips, she was so horny that all she wanted was a release from the agonising ache between her thighs. He couldn’t stop the satisfied grin from creeping into his face as he pressed his mouth against hers and running his tongue over her bottom lip. Y/n’s breathing picked up at the action but hitched as she felt his thumb press steady circles against her clit, causing her to moan loudly into his mouth in relief, back arching at the newfound sense of pleasure. 

“So sensitive” 

He mumbled against her lips, the words barely audible, a low husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine. He pulled away, his breath mingling with hers, their closeness still electrifying, and Y/n panted heavily, struggling to keep her composure. With a high pitched moan, she felt her nails dig into his bicep instinctively,

“More”

“Ask nicely” 

“More please Rafe” 

“Whatever you want Sugar” 

Y/n’s mouth dropped open into a silent ‘o’ as Rafe teased her weeping hole, before slipping his finger in effortlessly due to the wetness now dripping into the blanket below her. 

“Fuckkkk- so ready for me hmm?” 

She threw her head back with a desperate gasp as he pumped two fingers into her, curling them slightly, the girl's hips rising to match Rafe’s movements. Her mind was becoming fuzzy and all she could focus on was the slowly building knot in her stomach. Rafe could feel her clenching around his fingers as he leant down, breath brushing against her ear,

“Feel good sugar? You like it when your coworker makes your pussy feel good in the back of the club”

Her loud moan cut him off,

“Fuck! Rafe please- I’m gonna cum”

He pulled back all together, causing her brows to furrow as her eyes flickered open from where they’d shut second ago. She was met with the image of Rafe with his fingers by his lips, tongue coming out to lick over the arousal covering his slender digits, causing her to swallow hard, she felt like she was going dumb from how badly she needed him. 

“Rafe”

“I know, I know, gonna make this pussy feel so good” 

He spoke out heatedly as he pushed himself forward between her thighs, lining his cock up with her hole. Rafe eyes flickered up to Y/n, from where they were gazing at his heavy dick resting against her throbbing pussy: and she was already looking directly at him, eyes glossy with desire. His hand rested on her thigh, thumb rubbing small circles against her skin as he pushed his tip into her, causing her to let out a breathless moan. He teased her pulling out slightly, causing her to babble out, 

“No please- I can’t-“

He shushed her as he languidly slid his hips forward, filling her up with his length. She moaned out, walls fluttering against him as her arms came up, wrapping around his shoulders, nails digging into his back, frantically pulling him closer to her, causing him to let out a grunt. 

“You like that?” 

He groaned out voice deep as he thrusted his hips against her at a fast pace, the sound of their skin slapping and Y/n’s high pitched wines and breathless moans echoing in the dressing room.

“Yes yes yes-” 

The words mindlessly passed her lips as she dragged her nails down his back, drowning in the hypnotising pleasure of him rutting against her. Rafe shifted slightly, hand pressed against the sofa supporting himself as the other moved down to the girl's collar bones, grazing over them before his fingers slipped around her neck, squeezing slightly. Y/n’s back arched up in response, eyes rolling to the back of her head. 

“Such a dirty fucking slut” 

He spat out at her as he relentlessly snapped his hips against her. Her hand shakily reached up, gripping into Rafes wrist, as she looked up to him, mouth falling open in pleasure again. 

“Fucking say it”

He grunted as his grip around her neck tightened slightly, causing her walls to tighten against his cock, she could feel her high building and she choked out to him, 

“I’m a fucking slut”

“Yeah you are” 

He groaned as his hips stuttered slightly, his jaw clenching. Rafe let go of Y/n’s throat, hand moving down between their hot and sweaty bodies to rub at her sensitive clit, the girl jolting at the feeling causing her walls to clamp around him again, she was moaning relentlessly now, loud gasps of his names passing her lips as she chanted them like a prayer. 

“Fuck” 

He let out a long low whine as he continued to rock his hips into her, his pace faltering as he felt the heat in his stomach rising. 

“Rafe- Rafe- I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum-” 

She cried out, hands clawing at his skin, digging into his bicep, sliding down his chest, dragging down his back. He knew he was going to have red angrily lines littered over his skin tomorrow but he didn’t seem to care, the knowledge that everyone would know it was her who had marked him up only aroused him more. 

“Give it to me Sugar, fucking soak my cock in your pretty juices”

His words caused her to topple over the edge, her body melting into Rafe’s as she threw her head back, mouth open in a silent moan as waves of pleasure caused her vision to blur slightly. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been fucked so good, her limbs felt like jelly. Rafes grunts turned into pants as he moaned into the crook of her neck, 

“Fuck baby” 

His hips stilled, his cock pulsing inside Y/n’s pussy, hot seed leaking into her tight walls. She whined out at the feeling, legs still firmly wrapped around him, keeping him in place as they worked through their highs. 

The room was now filled with nothing but their heavy breaths, Rafe pulled back slightly, slipping his dick from her warm walls, his eyes flickering down to her pussy as he watched some of his cum dribble out of her hole onto the blanket below, causing him to let out a small hum. His hand reached up, resting on the girl's thigh as his thumb circled her skin again, however this time it was not teasing. 

“You okay?” 

She nodded her head to him as her hand came up, to run over his chest, fingers trailing down his skin to his bicep, where angry red lines had already started to appear. She couldn’t deny that the image of him marked up by her nails was bringing her a sense of satisfaction. However she brushed that aside as she spoke out,

“I hope nobody heard us” 

He looked down as her an amused smirk on his face as he responded, 

“I don’t know if they heard me… but they definitely heard you.”

[13thdoodle]

[ Ectoberhaunt24 Day 1 : Past Present Future ]

Here they aarrreee~ The chaos trio UwU

This is based of my DP RET Time AU, where trio are basically adopted by CW to be his wards and given powers over past present and future respectively

Sam got Past, Danny Present, Tucker Future

Ok I be so real, I actually have no idea how Sam's past power works, but I do like hourglass time aesthetic, so I gave it to her askjdnaskdj

the hourglass shape was actually me trying to draw the proper hour glass shape but draw one side too straight but I was like wait no I might be cooking sth here akjsdnakd

It kinda look neat n reminds me of those one sided die or impossible loop

For Danny, I gave him string games/cat's craddles to connect multiple points of presents together. I use this butterfly(?) shape as reference bc sth sth butterfly effects

Drawing hands.... (my beloved) (my detested)

For Tucker, he get to have fancy screens bc future tech tm I do give him the rings that match all 3 of their colors uwu

Blue for Danny, purple for Sam, and yellow-orange for himself. That also reflects on their robe. I was gonna give them all the same purple colors but I messed around with the base color change and the blue one looks really cute on Danny with purple textures so here we are sakdjansjkd

kinda reminds me of this fabric type a bit

[sturnsluttz]

Let me~Chris Sturniolo ꣑ৎ

SUMMARY: After a shitty day all you want is your boyfriend Chris who’s wants nothing more than to make you feel better, especially if that means softly fucking you till you can’t move.

WARNINGS: Soft dom Chris x sub fem reader, established relationship, smut, p in v, fingering, oral-fem receiving, slow sex, gentle Chris, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it plz), aftercare

A/N: enjoy xx

You sat lazily across your bed, drained from an equally horrific morning, day at work and drive home. You had stained your last white work top, rushing out the door, been screamed at by your boss and when you thought the bad luck was over you nearly got rear ended on your way home.

As soon as you had arrived home all you wanted to do was cry your eyes out then call your boyfriend, Chris. You didn’t expect him to come over but you just wanted to hear his voice. Attempting to call and not cry you picked up the phone laying by your side, clicked his contact and it began ringing. You caught a faint glimpse of your reflection on the screen, Jesus, you looked rough. Quickly sniffing and wiping away the faint mascara stains off your face you recollected yourself before he answered.

“Hey ma” Chris talked through the phone enthusiastically, “Hey Chris” you responded, smiling to yourself at the goofy nickname. Chris sensed your dull tone immediately questioning if you were ok. “I had a really rough day, I didn’t mean to bother you, just wanted to hear your voice” you honestly admitted, “aww y/n I’m sorry, I’ll be right over, do you need anything while I’m omw?”

“Chris it’s ok you don’t have-“ you were cut off “No y/n tooo late, I’m leaving now” you giggled at his sassy response, “thanks” you huffed, “course ma”.

It wasn’t long before you heard a knock on your front door, you were too physically drained…and comfy to get up and open the door so you texted Chris to let himself up, but by the sounds of it he was already doing just that.

A glint of light hit you as your door was slowly cracked open. Standing there was Chris, with a sympathetic smile on his face, “hey y/n”. You didn’t know why, you were happy he was here but you began to feel that hot burning sensation in your eyes as a tear dripped down your now lowered face. “Shh sh it’s ok, I’m here” Chris spoke dropping his bag (presumably to stay the night) at the door and rushing to wrap his arms around you. He sat cradling you as you cried pathetically into his chest, squeezing him tight.

Chris held your shoulders lightly prying you away from him so he could see your face. You dropped your head to look at your twiddling thumbs, not wanting him to see you in such a state. “Hey baby, look at me” Chris spoke, lifting you head to look at him. You sniffled not even wanting to imagine how horrific you looked right now. “There’s my girl” Chris responded smiling at you, wiping away your tears and dripping snot shamelessly.

“Can you let me look after you ma?” Chris spoke softly, you nodded confused on what that ment but grateful nonetheless. He moved carefully from your comforting side, directing you to lay down. He adjusted around you comfortably laying next to you, drawing circles on your arm with his finger. Before you nearly nodded off to sleep at the calming sensation you felt a hand tap your hip, your gaze shooting down to meet his, “Can I take these off and make you feel good baby?” Chris said gesturing to your shorts with his eyes. You nodded back at him, helping him pull them down as he threw them lightly to the floor.

Chris stared in awe at your pink lace panties, toying with the waistband he glanced at you for permission and with a nod of your head they joined the pile on the floor. “So pretty” Chris praised, lowering himself between your legs, opening them. Your breath hitched at his new position squeezing your legs back together “it’s ok baby, let me see how wet you are for me”, you felt Chris’s breath on your thighs as he spoke sent light shivers up your spine. “Relax y/n, let me make you feel good” Chris whispered, reverting your legs back to their previous open position.

“Please” you muttered, your cheeks turning a dark shade of red, snapping Chris out of his admiration trance. “Of course baby” he responded placing a hand on your thigh. Chris inched closer to your heat, without warning placing a small kitten lick across your folds “mhm Chris” you whimpered at his touch somehow already sensitive. “I know baby, I know” Chris continued, licking up and down your slick, stopping to give a gentle kiss to your clit. He paused before carefully running a finger against your cunt “can I” he questioned before going any further. “Mm yes” you panted out, desperate for more of his touch.

Chris knew the control he had over you, he knew he could rail you to pieces if he wanted too. But he didn’t, he cared. All Chris wanted in that very moment was to take care of you. You felt his finger delicately enter you, your back arching him further into you. Strangled whimpers left your mouth as he began to pump his finger in and out of you. “Mfm-fuck—Chris” you moaned as he moved, “Mmore—please” you muttered. Granting your wish he added a second finger, his angel blue eyes locked on your contorted face as he continued pumping into you.

“Mm-Chris—Ddont stop” you chocked out, “I’m close”. His free hand lay holding your waist, the other still thrusting into your dripping pussy. “I won’t baby” Chris answered, and without slowing the pace of his fingers his tounge joined his fingers licking circles around your clit. Sweat beaded at your forehead as you felt your orgasm burn inside you, and without warning the knot snapped with a loud moan. Chris slowed his movements helping you ride out your high. Detaching his tongue from your swollen clit.

His face moved to meet yours, slowly pulling his fingers out of you in the process. His hands moved to hold either side of your face, kissing your lips. You could feel your own cum still on his fingers as they moved back down to reach under your shirt, squeezing your tits lightly. “Chris, I” you began “yeah” he replied, his eyes never leaving your face as he continued caressing your boobs. “I want you—“ you paused, “inside of me, not just your fingers” a light grin crept across his face as you spoke, “are u sure ma? I don’t wanna overstimulate you” he responded, care in every word. “I-im sure, I need you” you continued, your stomach fluttering with embarrassment.

Only second had passed before Chris’s pants and boxers grew the pile of the floor. He held himself over you while he pumped his length in his hand. Warm precum dripped onto your stomach before you felt his tip graze against your puffy folds. “You ready sweetheart?” Chris questioned, you nodded frantically as a reply, feeling his tip push into you. Your hands shot up to hold his waist for support, your nails digging into his soft pail skin “Mhmp—sorry” you apologised as the little red indents you left became visible “don’t be, I’ve got you” Chris whispered back. You felt his dick sink further into you, your insides stinging as you adjusted to him. “I’m halfway baby, you talk to me—tell me when you want more” Chris assured, so careful not to hurt you, “now” you exhaled while giving a light nod.

Chris finally bottomed out, his tip kissing your cervix “tell me when I can move baby” Chris says holding painfully still as his dick throbbed inside you. “Mfmm-uh-n—now” you whimpered back to him. Chris granted your wish as he began carefully thrusting in and out of you.

It wasn’t long before your pussy started to ache from overstimulation. Your previous organs hit you so fast and Chris’s dick was already inside you giving you no time to recover. You squirmed under him, his thrusts slowly rocking you back and forth. His speed picked up likely to chase his own orgasm, “C-Chris—mhm-sensitive rem-member” you reminded “sorry baby” his hips immediately slowed “your pussy just-uh-squezin me so—t-tight”

His thrusts continued at a much slower pace as your orgasm began to rebuild. Your pussy aching around him. “Mm-im c-close” you moaned. “Let it out gorgeous” Chris responded, and with that your orgasm hit you with a painfully guttural moan. A tear ran down your cheek as you tried to recover, Chris still thrusting deep inside of you.

“Mhmpf—C-Chris!” “T-too much” you cried, your thighs shaking from overstimulation. “I know ma-I-im sorry” Chris moaned into the crook of your neck, making your brain go fuzzy. “I’m so c-close I promise” he continued, you only whimpered in response before your insides were filled with that warm sticky sensation.

Chris panted loudly, trying to regain his composure “im so sorry baby” he spoke, his dick still holding his release inside of you. “You ok?” He asked, obviously concerned, you nodded tiredly in response as he let out a sigh of relief.

He pulled out of you, making you wince from overstimulation-him immediately apologising. The white liquid began to leak from your pussy onto your bed, “shit sorry ma, I’ll clean that up” Chris spoke. He stood up from the bed pulling his sweats back on, leaving to go get a towel.

A minute or two passed before Chris was back, with a wash cloth in hand. You attempted to get up but the shake in your now jelly legs prevented you. “Here, I gotcha” Chris chuckled, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you carefully on the edge of the cold bench, wetting the cloth with warm water. Chris leaned between your legs, your core still throbbing “im just gonna clean you up baby, I’ll be gentle” he spoke softly. You felt him wipe your thigh lightly, you shivering at his touch “too cold?” He questioned “no-it’s fine, thank you Chris” you assured him as he continued to clean you up.

You returned to your spot in his arms as he carried you back to your room, dressing you in your favourite pjs. “Chris why is there a white stain on my favourite sheets” you questioned looking at your bed, “whoops” Chris replied, a guilty look painted on his face which made you laugh. “This what happens when I let you look after me? You giggled at him, “maybe” he replied.

LMK IF YALL LIKE THISSSSSS-it’s also not proofread so sorry if there are any mistakes😚😚

-ari xx

Divider creds: @bernardsbendystraws

[norristrii]

STAND BY YOU.

Engaged on a Las Vegas pavement, you and Lando now look forward to the next chapter—your wedding awaits.

pairing. fiancé! Lando Norris x bsf! fiancée! fem! reader.

warnings. none, just fluff. This is part2 of Stand By Me ! Glad you liked it <3 For better understanding, I recommend to read it first.

THE WEEKS BLURRED TOGETHER in a whirlwind of planning, laughter, and Carlos’s dramatic antics. True to his word, Carlos had insisted—demanded, really—that he would officiate your wedding. The delay for the certificate became a running joke, his overly enthusiastic updates on the process making it impossible to take anything too seriously.

Still, amidst all the chaos, being engaged to Lando felt strangely… natural. The teasing, the inside jokes, the easy camaraderie—all of it had shifted subtly into something deeper, more meaningful. You couldn’t help but think about how absurdly obvious it seemed now, how perfectly it all fit together. Why hadn’t you done this earlier? The thought lingered in your mind, bringing a smile to your face every time it crossed your thoughts.

The room buzzed with excitement as Rebecca, Lily, and Alex worked tirelessly to perfect every detail of your dress. You stood in front of the mirror, the reflection staring back at you almost surreal. The gown flowed effortlessly, hugging you in all the right places and radiating an elegance you hadn’t quite imagined for yourself. Your bridesmaids hovered around you, adjusting tiny details, smoothing fabric, and offering reassurances that you looked stunning.

“Who will walk you down the aisle?” Lily asked casually, her voice breaking through your thoughts. The question hit you like a thunderbolt. Your eyes widened, panic bubbling to the surface as realization struck. Oh fuck. Of course, there was something you’d forgotten—there had to be.

Your gaze darted around the room as your mind raced. The answer you sought came in the form of Lewis. He seemed oblivious to the whirlwind of activity around him, his presence grounding in a way only Lewis could manage. In many ways, he had always been like an older brother to you—constant, supportive, and unshakable in his quiet strength.

You quickly texted him, your fingers flying over the screen as you summoned him to the room. Moments later, the door swung open, and there he was, his expression curious as he stepped inside. “What do you need, Y/n?” he asked, his tone casual but tinged with concern.

“I need you to walk me down the aisle,” you said, the words tumbling out in your moment of desperation. His eyes widened in horror, the surprise evident in his reaction.

“What? Me? I don’t know, Y/n—” he hesitated, his voice trailing off as he processed the request.

“C’mon, Lewis, you are perfect for that,” you assured him, your voice carrying all the conviction he needed.

He raised an eyebrow, his teasing nature kicking in despite the seriousness of the moment. “Do I look like your father? Am I that old?” he joked, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated but amused. “Lewisss,” you said, drawing out his name in a way that left no room for argument.

He paused for a moment, then nodded, his expression softening. “I’ll do it,” he said simply, his voice steady and warm.

The avenue was alive with chaos, a far cry from the calm serenity one might expect at a wedding. Flower petals littered the ground, already prematurely scattered by Kimi and Isack, who stood off to the side with expressions that ranged between regret and mischief. “Can you remind me why we agreed to do this?” Kimi muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with quiet exasperation.

Carlos, however, was having none of it. His booming voice cut through the disarray, rising above the hum of last-minute preparations and hushed conversations. “C’mon, boys! You’re not at a funeral, you’re at a wedding!” he shouted, his arms flailing for emphasis. His enthusiasm, as always, was impossible to ignore, and it served as an attempt—albeit futile—to inject some order into the madness.

By the arch, Lando shifted uncomfortably, his nerves all too evident as he tried not to let the chaos get to him. Carlos stood next to him, a grin playing on his face despite the commotion. “Relax, mate,” Carlos teased, nudging Lando lightly. But Lando barely reacted, his focus elsewhere—on you, on the moment to come, and on the reality of what was about to unfold. Chaos or not, this was happening, and he couldn’t hide the nervous excitement bubbling under the surface.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Lando muttered to Carlos, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and nervous excitement. His hands fidgeted slightly, as if his body hadn’t quite caught up with the enormity of the moment. The chaos surrounding them—Kimi and Isack’s antics with flower petals, Carlos shouting directions, and the hum of last-minute preparations—almost felt distant, the weight of the occasion taking center stage.

“And I can’t believe you actually got the certificate,” Lando added with a laugh, the tension breaking just enough to let a grin tug at his lips. Carlos smirked in return, pride evident in his expression. “I’m a man of my word,” Carlos said dramatically, adjusting his position by the arch with a flourish that bordered on theatrical.

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as he cast a glance towards the avenue where you were still out of view. This was it—the moment he never imagined he’d experience, but now couldn’t fathom it happening any other way. This was happening, and the thought alone made his heart race.

The soft hum of conversation in the avenue was replaced by the first notes of the music, filling the air with an elegant melody that signaled the beginning of something extraordinary. The bridesmaids walked out one by one, their dresses flowing gracefully as they moved in sync, their smiles radiant and genuine. The crowd stirred, heads turning to watch Rebecca, Lily, and Alex take their places.

Carlos, now standing taller by the arch, adjusted his jacket as he stole a glance at Lando, whose nerves seemed to return with a vengeance. Lando’s eyes darted toward the aisle, the anticipation in his expression palpable. The music swelled, each note carrying the promise of what was to come, and the avenue seemed to hold its breath as the moment unfolded.

The soft hum of the music filled the venue as you entered, Lewis walking confidently by your side. All eyes turned towards you, the room buzzing with quiet awe as you made your way down the aisle. You couldn’t help but grin, the joy radiating from you as you took in the sight of your friends standing together, groomsmen perfectly aligned—Charles, Oscar, and Max—all dressed immaculately, each wearing a mix of pride and amusement on their faces.

But your gaze lingered longest on Lando. The way he looked at you—eyes full of love, amazement, and just the tiniest glimmer of nerves—made your heart soar. For a moment, it felt like time slowed, as if the chaos of the world outside had melted away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect bubble.

“I think I’m going to cry,” Max whispered, breaking the spell as his voice carried to Charles and Oscar beside him. Oscar gave him a sideways glance, half amused, while Charles raised an eyebrow in mock judgment.

“It’s not even your own wedding,” Charles muttered, his dry humor earning a quiet chuckle from Oscar.

Max wiped at an imaginary tear, a playful grin breaking across his face. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be emotional,” he quipped, his dramatic flair adding yet another layer of charm to the moment.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, their banter grounding the surreal beauty of the day. But when your eyes flicked back to Lando, the world around you seemed to fall quiet again. This was your moment.

As you reached Lando under the arch, the music softened, replaced by the warm sound of Carlos clearing his throat. Standing tall, his charisma on full display, Carlos began his speech with a tone that was equal parts heartfelt and lighthearted. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, his smile broad as his gaze swept across the crowd, “we’re gathered here today to celebrate a very unique love story.”

His words resonated, and the crowd quieted, eager to soak in the moment. “What started years ago as a friendship,” Carlos continued, “is now turning into marriage.”

Lando’s hands found yours, his touch grounding you as Carlos spoke. You could feel the slight tremble in Lando’s grip, betraying his nervous excitement, even as his grin remained unwavering. Carlos threw a playful glance Lando’s way, his tone shifting into something cheekier. “I still remember how Lando simped over Y/n into my DMs,” he said, his laughter spilling out in a way that drew chuckles from the crowd. Lando’s blush deepened as his eyes momentarily dropped to the floor, his embarrassment evident but undeniably endearing.

Carlos grinned at the memory, glancing back at you both. “And how we planned the proposal,” he added, his expression growing warmer as he recalled the effort and camaraderie that went into orchestrating the big moment.

“And, to be honest,” Carlos said, turning to meet your gaze directly, “I didn’t think she would say yes.” His words carried a teasing note, but his sincerity was unmistakable. “But here we are now.”

The crowd erupted in laughter and applause, the warmth and joy of the speech permeating the venue. You caught Lando’s eyes, his blush still lingering, but his expression was full of love, gratitude, and a quiet thrill that made your heart flutter. Carlos’ words captured the essence of your journey—unconventional, chaotic, and perfectly yours.

Carlos cleared his throat, adopting a playful yet sincere tone as he began, “So, Lando, do you promise to always stand by Y/n? Even when she’s yelling at you for something that, let’s be honest, you probably deserved?”

The crowd chuckled softly, the humor in his words breaking the tension of the moment. Lando smiled, his eyes never leaving yours as he answered confidently, “I do.” His voice was steady, carrying every ounce of love and commitment he felt in that moment.

“And Y/n,” Carlos continued, his tone teasing yet undeniably warm, “do you promise you’ll always stand by Lando—through wins, through losses—and do you promise to always love him, even though he’s going to complain about, well, almost everything?”

A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd, the lightheartedness of Carlos’s words easing the tension of the moment. You turned to Lando, who was already grinning, his cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment at Carlos’s playful jab. His eyes locked onto yours, full of love and anticipation.

“I do,” you replied, your voice steady and filled with certainty, carrying the weight of everything this promise meant. The simplicity of those two words held all the chaotic adventures, heartfelt moments, and laughter you’d shared—and all the beautiful unknowns still waiting ahead.

Carlos beamed, spreading his arms wide as he declared with flair, “Well then, with that, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!” The cheers and applause erupted around you, the joy and celebration wrapping you both in a perfect, unforgettable moment.

Lando didn’t hesitate for even a heartbeat. The moment Carlos’s words faded into the cheers of the crowd, he closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face as his lips found yours with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. The kiss was full of emotion—love, relief, and the overwhelming joy of finally reaching this moment.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, but it all felt distant, like background noise to the electricity sparking between you and Lando. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his grin wide and uncontainable. “You’re stuck with me now,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing, though the love in his eyes was anything but playful.

“No way, Oscar is crying!” Max exclaimed, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads. You and Lando glanced back, curiosity piqued as you looked over at Oscar. Sure enough, there he was, subtly wiping at his eyes, clearly trying—and failing—to be discreet about it.

Oscar noticed the attention and immediately straightened, his expression shifting into something resembling nonchalance. “I’m not crying,” he muttered, though the slightly red hue in his eyes betrayed him. “There’s just… something in the air.”

“In my wildest dreams, I never imagined Lando would be the first of us to get married,” Charles said, shaking his head with a playful shrug. His words drew a few laughs from the group, but his expression held a touch of genuine disbelief.

“Especially to Y/n,” he added, glancing over at you and Lando with a grin that bordered on teasing. “I mean, she’s everything—smart, beautiful— and he’s... well, he’s Lando.”

“Shut up, Charles,” Lando retorted, rolling his eyes as a smirk tugged at his lips. His tone was playful, though it was clear he wasn’t going to let Charles get away with his teasing without firing back.

The group erupted in laughter, Max clapping Charles on the shoulder as if to commend him for stirring the pot. “Come on, he’s just jealous,” Max added with a grin.

“I’m not jealous!!” Charles exclaimed, rolling his eyes so dramatically it was almost theatrical. The emphasis in his voice only made his claim less convincing, and you couldn’t help but suppress a laugh as you exchanged a knowing glance with Lando.

“Yeah, definitely not,” Lando muttered under his breath, a cheeky smirk lighting up his face. Max burst into laughter, clapping Charles on the back. “Sure, mate,” Max said, his tone dripping with amusement. “We totally believe you.”

Charles crossed his arms, trying to hold his ground, but the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. The playful banter continued, fueling the lighthearted, chaotic energy of the day—a perfect reflection of your close-knit group of friends.

You just smiled at them, their playful banter fading into the background as you stood next to Lando. The moment felt surreal, like something out of a dream you’d never dared to believe could come true. From childhood best friends, sharing secrets and laughter, to that impulsive, imperfectly perfect engagement on the pavement—just the two of you and the overwhelming love you couldn’t contain. And now, here you were, standing together in front of everyone who mattered, taking the next step into forever.

Lando must have sensed your thoughts, because when you glanced at him, his soft smile told you everything without saying a word. The way he looked at you—the same way he always had, but now with the added weight of this day, this moment—made your heart swell. What started as a friendship built on late-night chats and shared dreams had grown into something deeper, stronger, and absolutely unshakable. This was your story, and it was only just beginning.

@haniette , @ughyoustink , @quinquinquincy

[jobean12-blog]

This Is Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 918

Summary: You have a late day at work and Bucky wants to walk you home.

Author's Note: This is just some softness because why not! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft sweetness and fluff, maybe our reader feeling a little jealous and possessive hehe

The evening breeze ruffles the bottom of your dress, and the fabric tickles the back of your thighs as the scent of hot dogs and car exhaust drifts from the street.

You glance at the curb. “Where’s your bike?”

“Home,” Bucky answers simply as he takes your hand in his. “Thought I could walk you back to the apartment. You know…the old-fashioned way.”

He doesn’t say this to earn any reaction from you, so he misses the way your eyes soften.

You’ve both had late days. You were finishing things up at the office and he was working with Sam at the VA. Now, however, it’s time to go home and he insisted on meeting you so you could make the trip together.

The busiest part of the day has come and gone but you’re still lucky to find seats together on the crowded train. You watch your reflection in the window opposite you and even in the grimy glass and beneath the harsh, often flickering fluorescent lights, it’s impossible to miss how beautiful he is.

He’s loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt to offer up a triangle of smooth, tan skin. The open shirt frames his long neck, the tempting hint of collarbone peeking out just enough to make you wonder why you aren’t kissing it right now.

As if sensing your gaze, his eyes shift from the passing blur of the city and meet yours in the glass. Your reflections rock with the movement of the train, and he watches you too, a small, knowing smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

More passengers board at the next stop and he moves, giving his seat to an elderly lady with a heavy bag in each hand. She showers him with sweet praise before sitting and smiling at you.

Bucky takes the spot in front of you, his right arm raised to grip the handrail suspended from the ceiling.

You now have an exceptional view of his torso and the front of his dress pants.

Yummy.

The sound of laughter draws your attention, and you see a group of girls seated only a few rows away. They sit with their heads pressed together and if their hushed giggles and wide-eyed stares are any indication, you know exactly what they’re looking at. Or rather, whom.

You look up to find Bucky looking down at the older woman, listening and oblivious to the leering glances being cast in his direction.

You can’t blame the girls. If you saw Bucky on the train you’d do whatever you could to get a better look. It makes you think back to the first time you met and how you were immediately drawn to him.

He laughs at something the older woman says, and you watch his blue eyes crinkle at the corners and the dark strands of his hair fall in front of his forehead. He looks boyish and gorgeous and you immediately glance over like the jealous wife you are and sure enough, every head in that group of girls is turned, eyes wide, mouths wider, swooning.

And even though you haven’t spoken a word, you begin to wonder if every thought you have is somehow projected onto a screen above your head. Because it’s this moment he chooses to glance down at you, eyes soft and warm as he reaches to brush his metal thumb along your bottom lip.

You turn into his hand and press your mouth to his palm.

He’s beaming when the train comes to a stop and takes your hand as you stand and pulls you out the door, sliding his arm around your waist as soon as you’re on the platform.

“I like this,” he says quietly, tucking you into his side.

You laugh. “Like what?”

“Walking you home.”

He kisses you sweetly in the middle of the street, causing several people to part and move around you, their muttered grumbles going completely unnoticed. The kiss is so soft, so earnest that your chest swells painfully and you wrap your arms around his neck to hold him to you.

The group of girls walk by and in the background you hear their wistful sighs and comments.

“She’s so lucky,” one of the girls says.

You pull away from Bucky and look their way, grabbing hold of his suit jacket possessively.

“Did you hear that?” you mutter.

“Hear what doll?” he asks, his eyes on you, having never left.

“Those girls have been swooning over you since we were on the train.”

“What girls?” Bucky asks, his full attention still on you.

You finally drag your eyes away from the retreating group to meet his.

“I wasn’t done kissing you doll face,” he says with the corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes sparkling.

His palm frames your cheek, and he pulls you closer, uncaring that you’re still standing in the middle of the busy city street.

You grab his wrist and lean into his touch.

“Bucky.”

The admonishment is totally empty, and he knows it, bumping your nose with his before the soft press of his lips is all you feel.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t notice them,” you whisper, eyes closed, and face pressed to his.

“Look at me,” he murmurs.

Your eyes open.

“I wish you could feel what I feel when I look at you doll,” he whispers against your lips. “Then maybe, just maybe you’d understand why I can’t look at anyone else.”

[mystellenia]

passionate sex with abby ୨ৎ

summary: you and abby spend the night enjoying each other, sharing a passionate moment

content: fingering (r receiving), praise, abby literally worshipping you, strap on sex

notes: answer to this req!! can someone get me a shirt that says "baby's 1st strap fic!" this was surprisingly fluffier than i intended but i’m not mad. if there are any typos or grammar mistakes, let me know please! i will never consistently proof read <3 prob like 20% of my work is proof read if i’m feeling quite Professional

(wc 1.6k)

"are you asleep?" abby softly whispered into your hair, careful to not disturb you if you had fallen asleep. 

the two of you lay on the couch watching a black and white film flicker across the tv screen, a king-sized blanket bunched around your waist. your arms tuck further into your chest, pulling the blanket up a little higher to your waist. 

abby's large hands splayed across your lower back—not drawing little shapes, not tracing your skin, just feeling. she was always touching you, whether it was your fingers laced between hers or just her arm pressed against your side. she'd always say that you grounded her, that just being with you could calm her down from the highest of stresses. 

you slightly shake your head, responding to her question. "nope." 

"do you still wanna watch the movie?" 

you shake your head again. "nope."

turning your head to look up at her from where your chin rested on her chest, you kiss her quickly on her cheek. "let's go to bed." 

she doesn't respond, just smooths your hair back with her hand and scoots out from under you, grabbing your hand to lead you to the bedroom. she leaves your dishes behind—a bowl, two empty mugs, and a cookie wrapper sit still on the coffee table, frozen and forgotten by the two of you as you walk down the hall. 

abby heads to the bathroom and loads up her toothbrush, and you change from your heavy sweatshirt and pajama pants to one of abby's simple, large t-shirts. you take your hair out of its bun and hear a chuckle from behind you, so you turn and see abby smiling and watching you, her foamy toothbrush hanging from her lips. 

you take your hair tie out and set it on your side of the bed. "what?" you ask, to which she just shakes her head and returns her gaze to the mirror in front of her. you walk towards her in front of the sink, looking at her reflection. her eyes drop down towards her shirt on you, and she laughs again, quickly leaning into the sink to spit her toothpaste out. 

"what!" you smile, tilting your head at her eyes dancing across your face. she takes her time with finishing, leisurely swirling water in her mouth. she finally spits, drying her mouth with a hand towel and saying, "you're swimming in that shirt." 

you reflexively look down at it, smoothing it down your body. "it's not even that big on me—it barely goes past my mid-thigh." 

"if you say so," she chuckles, leaning in for a kiss. her lips move slowly over yours, taking her time in savoring your taste.  

your lips part, and she turns towards the mirror to set the towel down with a dreamy smile slowly spreading across her lips, her blinks slow and partial. you lean against the doorframe with that same dreamy smile until you move back towards her, your hand moving to her shoulder. 

abby is the one who deepens the kiss, tilting your head back to push her tongue inside your mouth and humming against your lips. the bathroom counter digs into your butt, and your knees almost buckle at her unhurried kisses. 

both of her hands lift up to your head, grabbing each of your cheeks and pulling back to look at you. her eyes look more black than blue, her blown pupils swallowing up the silvery rings of her eyes.  

she turns your back towards the doorway and begins walking you backwards to the bed, the mattress hitting the back of your thighs and folding you onto the duvet, your kiss never breaking once. your legs immediately wrap around her hips, ankles locking on the backs of her toned thighs.  

her fingers snake under your shirt, swiping her thumbs over your belly and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. she parts from your lips for air, and you both break out in a fit of giggles. 

you calm down and stare into her eyes, hurrying up to her face and dotting kisses all over her face, making her laugh even more.  

abby turns her head away to escape your assault of kisses, and you still once she does. "i love you," she lowly says, her eyes lazily looking into yours. 

"i love you, too," you whisper back. you feel your cheeks heating, so you cover them with your hands to cool them down. 

"aww," abby sweetly coos, "you shy?" 

"i have a crush on you," you say seriously, smiling when she laughs at the absurdity of your statement. 

"well, shit, i sure hope so," she jokes and lowers herself, kissing you long and soft. 

like an unspoken agreement, abby pulls back as you sit up and you both start removing your clothes, one by one, holding eye contact the entire time. the intimacy of it all crashes over you, and you'd drown a hundred times over if it meant you could freeze this moment in time, pause it and restart whenever you choose. 

you lay on your back and abby crawls over you, sucking the skin of your neck and making your squirm. you reach to thread your fingers through her hair, but your fingers are stopped by the braid in her hair, now loose and frayed from being in all day. unfastening the rubber band at the tail, you comb your fingers through the braid and undo it piece by piece. once her hair is fully free, you scratch at her scalp, restless from her tongue moving on your skin. 

with no warning at all, abby dips her hand into your underwear, tracing a feathery swipe through your folds. obviously, you jump, your nails digging crescents into her shoulders. 

she gradually pushes her finger inside you, and you throw your head back with a groan, your legs opening unconsciously. she finds a slow and teasing pace, her thumb mirroring it while she rubs tight circles on your clit. 

abby never breaks eye contact, watching you the whole time and how your face screws tighter in pleasure, listening to your closed-lip moans start to spill through your mouth. she never speeds up, though, and the pace is too slow to finish. 

"abby... come on," you plead, trying to keep your eyes open long enough to look at her. 

"yeah? tell me what you want and i'll do it," she pants, looking at you and begging for an order, for another way to make you feel good. 

just one of her thick fingers can push you closer to the edge, but it's still not enough. your cheeks warm, but you find the words to say, "i need you. right now, abby." 

not a second passes before she's pulling out of you and leaning over to the side of the bed, lifting herself back up with a black strap in her hand. at six inches, it was a perfect fit for you—not too small, not too big—and for abby—comfortably sitting against her core. 

wasting no time, she slides the tip up and down your cunt, lathering it in your slick before pushing her hips forward and sliding in, inch by inch. she hovers close above your face, observing every twitch in your body. her own jaw is dropped all the way, her lids low as she uncontrollably bucks her hips and pushes the last of the strap in. a guttural groan falls from her lips as if she was holding her breath the whole time, a whiney breath followed by a hushed curse coming from you. 

she drops to her forearms, her hand moving to thread through your hair and cradle the back of your head. when you start to squirm, she pulls out almost all the way and smoothly pushes back in. finding a steady rhythm, her hips tenderly pump into yours, hypnotized by your little noises and how your hair splayed around your face in a halo. 

this was exactly why abby preferred missionary, but right now her pleasure takes over and makes her forget everything but you as her head falls into your shoulder, her hand tensing around the nape of your neck. 

"i" —she struggles to get out— "am so lucky to have you. god, i'm so glad you're mine." she continues breathing praises into your ear, your huffs getting louder and her breaths becoming more labored. 

she feels your legs trying to lock around her torso, and she pulls back to watch your face as she always does. "look at me, look at me," she rushes out, trying to catch you before your orgasm. 

you pry your eyes open and pull her forehead to yours. "together, please." 

"i know, i know. just..." she trails off, trying to focus, her hips suddenly jerking with her orgasm.

as if on the same wavelength, you cum a second after her, you two sloppily kissing and moaning into the other's mouth. you both twitch and spasm, the sheets damp with sweat and slick. 

after taking a minute to catch her breath, abby pulls out, wincing at the strap's base kissing her puffy clit. she quickly takes it off and lays down next to you, you immediately curling up to her. 

she rubs her hand on your arm, quietly murmuring, "good night, pretty girl," and pulling the sheets up, rubbing your skin until you fall asleep. 

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

[therealmrrobinson]

THE DAY THE EARTH BLEW UP: A LOONEY TUNES MOVIE Movie Review

Let’s be honest, when it comes to movies, the Looney Tunes brand has not had a very good run this decade. In 2021 there was Space Jam: A New Legacy, which turned out to be nothing but a shameless commercial for all things Warner Bros., and then there was the infamous tale of the shelved Coyote vs. Acme movie that may never see the light of day. So it’s with all of these tragedies that it’s a miracle that this movie, The Day The Earth Blew Up, even got released. (Granted through Ketchup Entertainment and not WB. themselves.) Not only that, but it’s also incredible that the end result is undeniably the best Looney Tunes ever made.

THE GOOD

What separates this movie from something like the Space Jam sequel, is that it is made by people who clearly love Looney Tunes. Despite the fact that we only have three characters, this movie stays true to who they are. Daffy Duck is more reflective of how his was when he was first introduced and before he started being paired up with Bugs Bunny. He’s a complete lunatic, he’s overly confident, and has a tendency to cause more trouble than what they have to deal with in the moment! Meanwhile, Porky Pig is the more sensible of the two, complete with his famous stutter. Eric Bauza does a fantastic job voicing both characters and much like Mel Blanc long before, it’s incredible how many of the Looney Tunes characters he’s able to voice to perfection. Petunia Pig is also a fun character. She manages to be the most sensible of the group, while also being crazy and…dare I say looney in her own way!

The animation is spectacular. It’s great to not only see classic 2D animation, but also 2D animation that was made for a big screen experience. The last two animated movies that I can think of that look like they were hand drawn are The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim or Teen Titans Go! To the Movies. In both instances, you watch those movies and question the reason to release them in theaters. The animation in The Day The Earth Blew Up is not only smooth and well detailed, but it also amplifies the insanity and comedy. One of my favorite gags is with Farmer Jim, the adopted father of both Daffy and Porky. While our two main characters are fully animated, Farmer Jim is mostly a static drawing played for full comic effect.

The movie is not just hilarious in how it captures the spirit of Looney Tunes, but also how it works as a parody of the alien invasion movies of the 1950s. From mind control, alien goo, 50s style flying saucers, and the title of the film itself, this movie is a perfect homage to those old school science fiction movies. However it’s mixed with that very chaotic tone that you expect from Looney Tunes and features enough twists that make the movie feel fresh and funny! The big masterplan of the alien invader is ridiculous but makes sense within the nature of the film!

OVERALL

This is about as good as a Looney Tunes movie can get and the flaws it has, aren't worth mentioning! I never got the appeal of Space Jam, and this is coming from a kid of the 90s. That movie should’ve been my childhood, but it just doesn’t work for me. As for Looney Tunes: Back in Action, I have a soft spot for that movie, but even then I can’t deny that The Day The Earth Blew Up blows that one out of the water. It’s got spectacular animation, it’s fateful to the source material, the characters are fun, and it’s jam-packed with jokes that made me laugh hard! Not to mention it has a lot of heart when it comes to Daffy and Porky’s friendship. It’s a reminder of what made Looney Tunes work in the first place and why they will endure until the end of time despite David Zaslav’s hatred for them!

RATING

GET OFF YOUR ASS AND GO SEE IT NOW!!!

[heartsriki]

LOVE SOUNDTRACK⌇음악

FLIRT ALERT! series⌇NI-KI | Prev

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader | word count: 2k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ friends to lovers, lots of beating around the bush, no other warnings I think.

synopsis — Riki creates a playlist for you, each song reflecting your shared moments. As you listen, you uncover his hidden feelings and the confession tucked within the final track, leading to a sweet, music-filled moment where your love story plays out in perfect harmony.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊the ot7 series is done :( BUT NOW I CAN WORK ON LONGER AND DETAILED PROJECTS HURRAYYYY, hopefully yall like those when they come out!

The playlist shows up on your phone one evening without warning.

You’re sprawled across your bed, textbooks pushed to the side, a half-empty coffee cup perched precariously on your nightstand. The dorm is quiet except for the distant murmur of voices in the hallway. You’re mid-scroll through your music library when you notice it—For Y/N.

Your thumb hovers over the screen.

Weird. You don’t remember making this.

Curious, you tap on it, and the first song begins to play.

A soft melody hums through your earbuds, and immediately, something tugs at your memory. You know this song. It’s the one that you played in your dorm last winter, the night you and Riki sat by the window watching the first snowfall of the year.

You close your eyes, and the memory comes back in vivid detail.

“You think it’ll stick?” you had asked, blowing on your hot chocolate. The glass pane beside you was fogged up from the warmth inside, but beyond it, the snowflakes swirled under the streetlights.

“Doubt it,” Riki had said, drawing random doodles on the glass window like a kid. He had been watching the snow too, his expression calm. Then, he smirked. “But hey, if it does, I’ll let you abuse me with snowballs as a reward.”

You had laughed, rolling your eyes. “Like I need your permission for that.”

Now, lying in bed, you wondered about the playlist and its meaning.

Wait how did it even get on your phone?

The next day drags by in a haze of half-heard lectures and restless thoughts.

You barely remember getting dressed, barely remember grabbing your bag, and now you’re here—seated across from Riki at your usual table in the campus café, fingers curled around a cup of coffee that’s gone lukewarm.

And he says nothing.

Not a single word about the playlist.

You watch him, searching for any sign that he’s waiting for you to bring it up. But Riki is as casual as ever, scrolling through his phone between bites of his croissant, occasionally glancing up to make some offhand comment about a ridiculous campus rumor or the professor who showed up to class with the worst fashion sense ever.

Meanwhile, your thoughts are a tangled mess.

The playlist. The songs. What do they mean?

Your heart slams against your ribs just thinking about it.

Does he know you listened? Does he want you to say something?

You grip your coffee cup a little tighter, clearing your throat. “So… did you do anything interesting last night?”

It’s a test. A chance for him to bring it up naturally.

Riki hums, still staring at his phone. “Not really. Just played some games with Jake, went to bed late. You?”

You blink. Your fingers tighten around the cup.

Seriously?

He’s going to act like nothing happened?

Your eyes narrow, and you wait—wait for the moment he cracks, for the smirk, for the teasing remark, for anything that shows he knows exactly what he did.

But nothing comes.

“Just slept,” you mutter, forcing yourself to take a sip of coffee, even though it tastes bitter now.

The silence stretches between you.

It’s unbearable.

Your mind races through possibilities. Maybe he sent it by accident. Maybe it wasn’t meant for you at all. Maybe—

Riki stretches lazily in his seat, his hoodie slipping off his shoulder. “Oh, by the way,” he says, and for a second, your breath catches. Finally.

But then—

“Wanna grab ramen after class?”

You stare at him, your stomach flipping.

That’s it? That’s all?

Your grip tightens on your cup as you force a nod. “Yeah. Sure.”

Riki grins, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside you.

And as he goes back to his phone, casually sipping his drink, you realize—

If he won’t bring it up, you might just have to.

but of course Riki doesn’t bring up the playlist over ramen either.

You sit across from him in the crowded little shop just off campus, the air thick with the scent of broth and spices. The steam from your bowl curls between you, but it does nothing to chase away the tension sitting heavy in your chest.

You’ve been waiting—waiting—for him to say something, to acknowledge what he sent you. But instead, he slurps his noodles like it’s just another night, like he didn’t put together an entire playlist filled with memories.

And it’s driving you insane.

“You’re quiet today,” Riki remarks, his chopsticks hovering over his bowl as he watches you. His tone is light, but there’s something in his gaze—curious, a little teasing. Like he knows something is up.

You set your spoon down a little too forcefully. “Am I?”

His lips twitch like he’s holding back a smirk. “Yeah. So weird too. You usually don’t shut up.”

Your jaw tightens. Unbelievable.

If anyone else had made that comment, you’d have thrown a napkin at their face. But right now, you can barely focus on coming up with a comeback.

Your stomach flips just remembering it.

The worst part? Riki looks normal. Like none of this is affecting him at all.

Fine. If he wants to play it cool, two can play that game.

You lean back in your seat, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say.”

Riki quirks a brow, tilting his head slightly. “That’s new.”

Your fingers tighten around your chopsticks. Say something. Bring it up. Ask him.

But just as you open your mouth, he reaches over, stealing a piece of your fish cake right off your plate.

You slap his hand, scowling. “Excuse me?”

He just grins, chewing obnoxiously. “What? You looked distracted. Figured you wouldn’t notice.”

You do throw a napkin at him this time.

And just like that, the moment passes. The conversation shifts to something else—an upcoming test, some campus drama, a new game he’s been obsessed with.

But underneath it all, the tension lingers.

Because you know the truth.

Riki put together that playlist for you.

And no matter how hard he tries to pretend it’s nothing, you know.

The only question is—when are you going to make him admit it?

That night, you give in.

You’re lying in bed again, phone resting on your chest, screen glowing softly in the dark. Your thumb hovers over For Y/N, heart hammering like it’s some kind of forbidden secret.

Riki still hasn’t said a word about it.

But you can’t let it go.

With a quiet breath, you press play.

The next song starts slow, familiar guitar chords filling your ears. The moment it plays, you recognize it—it’s from that weekend trip to the beach last summer.

Your lips part slightly as the memory washes over you.

The sun had just started to set, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. You and Riki had been sitting in the sand, sneakers discarded, the distant sound of waves blending into the music playing from his speaker.

“If I had to pick a favorite sunset, this would be it.” You had stretched your arms behind you, leaning back, letting the breeze tangle in your hair.

“You say that every time.” Riki had scoffed, but his voice was softer than usual.

“Because it always feels true in the moment.”

He hadn’t responded right away. You remember that part clearly. He had just looked at you for a second, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, instead of saying anything, he had reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before quickly looking away, pretending like he hadn’t just done it.

You had pretended, too.

Now, lying in the dark, you exhale shakily.

You’re not imagining this. You can’t be.

These songs—they’re not just random picks. They’re moments, his moments, things that must have meant something to him.

And the more you listen, the clearer it becomes.

You need to talk to him.

The next day, it happens by surprise.

Because of you.

You’re sitting outside the café on campus, staring at your untouched drink, mind replaying the song over and over, when Riki slides into the seat across from you with a lazy grin.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he teases, stealing one of your fries without asking.

You don’t respond. Just stare at him, long enough that the grin fades slightly from his lips.

“What?” he asks, chewing.

“Why won’t you admit that you made it?.”

His chewing slows. “Made what?”

You inhale sharply. “The playlist.”

Silence.

Riki freezes for half a second—so quick you almost miss it—before he forces a shrug, looking off to the side. “Yeah, so what? I made it.”

You blink, caught off guard by the casual admittance. “So what? You weren’t ever going to bring it up?”

He scoffs. “Didn’t know I had to.” Then, before you can say anything else, he pushes his phone across the table toward you, screen lighting up with his music app. “Just—listen to the last song.”

Your stomach twists. “Riki—”

“Just listen.”

And the way he says it—quiet, firm, almost nervous—makes you reach for his phone without another word.

You hesitate for only a second before pressing play.

The song starts slow, just like the last one—soft piano notes trickling in, delicate and familiar. It takes only a few seconds before you recognize it.

Your breath catches.

This song—it’s from that night.

The night it rained.

You remember it so clearly now, like the memory has just been waiting to resurface.

You and Riki had been caught in the sudden downpour, running through the empty streets, your shoes slapping against the wet pavement. You had been laughing, breathless, soaked to the bone, and Riki had grabbed your wrist, pulling you under the awning of a closed bookstore.

“We suck at checking the weather.” You had panted, pushing your dripping hair out of your face.

“No, you suck at checking the weather,” Riki had corrected, shaking out his arms like a wet dog.

You had rolled your eyes, shivering slightly. Without a word, Riki had tugged off his soaked hat, shaking off the rain before draping it over your head.

“Riki—”

“Just wear it,” he had muttered, avoiding your eyes. “Protects you from the rain a bit.”

The moment had stretched between you, heavy despite the laughter that had just filled the air. You remember how his fingers had brushed against yours when he adjusted the hat, how close he had been, how the rain had clung to his lashes when he finally looked at you.

And now—this song.

It had been playing from the small speaker outside the bookstore, blending into the sound of raindrops and your pounding heart.

Back in the present, sitting across from Riki in the café, you slowly set his phone down.

He’s not looking at you, gaze fixed on the table, fingers tapping against his cup.

Your chest feels impossibly tight.

“This song,” you whisper. “I remember it.”

Riki lets out a quiet breath, barely a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? thought you wouldn’t with your short term memory.”

Your heart stutters. “Why—” You swallow. “Why put this one last?”

Finally, he looks at you. There’s something in his expression you can’t quite place—something cautious, something vulnerable.

“Because that’s when I knew.”

Your stomach flips. “Knew what?”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s frustrated with himself. Then, he meets your gaze, eyes steady.

“That I liked you.”

The words hang between you, weighty and real.

“Me too” you responded.

Series Taglist — prev

@saphiranishimurashan @elairah @baribaaari @m1kkso @letwiiparkjay @jellyluv4eva @manuosorioh @moontyun @mbsnow @taesanoreohair @tiny-shiny @glimmerinaaa @e-r-i-15 @starbyeol1512 @seyoungiesleeps @vrusha01 @enhaprettystars @luv-rizzimura

[margotw10bis]

Champagne Confetti. JJK [m]

boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader

Genre: smut (basically a porn with a plot)

Words: 6.1k

Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans

Warnings (be ready): live sex; rough sex; face ridding; squirting (olympics waterfall y'all); multiple orgasms (idk how oc is still alive)

Jungkook is enjoying the show. How can he not when his girlfriend has her legs wide open and enters her dripping pussy with two fingers. The pleasure makes you loudly moan and your eyes roll back. You smile brightly, looking straight with lustful eyes. You are definitely hot right now, you know it. And if you didn't, the hundred of comments in the chat would inform you.

Someone is complimenting the pink leds' reflection on your skin, another one wishes you could use the dildo you've showed a few days ago, and a new comment praises you for being 'a sweet good girl'. You smile instantly at it because you know damn well that it comes from your boyfriend. To please him, you enhance the pace of your digits entering you and pinch your hard nipple just like he likes. You're one second away from moaning his name but you know you can't, so you settle for:

"I'm playing with my little pussy just for you"

Even if Jungkook is in his couch, a few miles away from your place, he gets that you are talking to him and his hard cock twitches in his pants. He is mindlessly caressing himself through his sweatpants. You've told him a hundred of times that he could stay at your place when you work but he has declined every single time. Your boyfriend knows he doesn't have the strength to hear you pleasuring yourself a few feet away without storming in and fucking you rough. You wouldn't mind but, after a long conversation with him, you have learnt that he doesn't want to appear on camera. And you totally get it, even though you would love him to fuck you on camera.

You know that your job is not a common one and that some people are very judgmental. However, you love sex and you get paid for it. You turn on your camera, use your fingers or toys to make you cum and that's it. You know that you also please other people, so what's wrong with that? And one of the things you love the most about Jungkook is that he has never judged you. He loves you just the way you are, with all the things that come with you — including your cam girl occupation.

When you turn on your vibrator, a beautiful toy in a baby blue color, you think about Jungkook — especially since he is the one who gave it to you. You place it on your sensitive clit and your groans get louder. You are very close to cum and you know that the way you get choked up by pleasure is enjoyed by your audience because the cash is flowing.

Your boyfriend smirks from the other side of the screen. You are so fucking beautiful when your face is torn by pleasure. He absolutely loves seeing your juices dripping down your ass and land on your bed, drawing a wet spot on it. It's so fucking hot. Jungkook loves how your head rolls back when you are close to cum. But that's also why you don't see the comment that makes Jungkook's heart stop: 'I can fuck you better than your loser of a boyfriend'.

———

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Your worry is well noticeable on your face. Jungkook, despite being as sweet as ever, has grown a little... distant. At first, you thought you were imagining things but now you have no doubt. During your usual movie date at your place — you have a much bigger screen than Jungkook —, you were trying to switch your cuddling into something... else. But Jungkook has stopped your hands from reaching his crotch area. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want sex because men don't always want sex. But he doesn't even let you touch him and that has never happened during the eight months you have been together.

You are feeling stressed and sad. Did you do something wrong? Or is he leaving you like your exes because, despite Jungkook saying he is okay with your job, he might not be at the end of the day?

"Is it me?" You lowly ask, pain and unsureness in your voice

Jungkook's head immediately snaps toward you and he cups your face. He doesn't want you to be hurt just because his little ego has been bruised. It's not your fault, not at all.

"No, of course not!" He exclaims and it soothes your heart a little

"Then, tell me"

Jungkook sighs. Is it even worth saying? It's so stupid. Your boyfriend shouldn't feel threatened by a stranger on the Internet but he can't help it.

"I... There was a comment on your chat the other day" He starts and you tilt your head out of curiosity "It said that they could fuck you better than me"

You bust into laugh but quickly stop when you see no sign of humour in your boyfriend's dark eyes.

"They just talk, they feel brave behind a screen. I'm sure the guy wouldn't even make me cum. Baby, you know it's not true" You argue and settle a gentle kiss on his cheek

"No, I don't" Jungkook replies with a harsh and hurt tone, his jaws clenched

You're taken aback. You stay silent for a minute, wondering how could you make Jungkook understand that he is the best sex you've ever had. But there is not a hundred solutions. You tell him to wait until you call him.

You go to your bedroom, light up your pink leds, change your clothes for Jungkook's favorite underwear — a matching black lacy bra and thong — and prep everything for him. When everything is neat, you sit on your bed covered with pink silk sheets and call him.

Surprise is painting his face. He gulps when he notices how powerful and sexy you look right now. You pat the spot next to you on the bed to urge your boyfriend to sit, which he does. You immediately capture his lips with yours.

The kiss gets heated. You lick his rings in the corner of his lower lip and then slide your tongue into his mouth. You are quick to change position to sit on his lap and deepen the kiss. You have always loved how his tongue felt soft against you.

You grab his hands to place them on your ass and you smirk when they squeeze it. It's just a reflex, Jungkook can't control it. Neither can he control his hardening dick. You grind on it, pressing your already wet pussy against the bulge forming on his black sweatpants and rolling your hips at a sensual pace. You rest a hand on his large shoulder while the other one tugs on his black locks.

"Babe—" Jungkook tries to argue but you prevent him from talking with a bite on his lower lip, making it swollen and red

You grab the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up until you can take it off from your boyfriend's hot body. You glance at his brawny torso and run your index on the ink darkening his arm. You have always loved the tattoo on his shoulder. Your hand reaches up again to caress it before going South to his abs. You smile when you notice that your caresses cut Jungkook's breathe.

You attack his throat with your lips, settling wet kisses and bitting his thin skin. You suck on it to mark him because the purple hickeys always look so good on him. You know that you just have to tease him a little more for Jungkook to go wild, that's why you poke out your tongue and take a fat lap from his collarbone to his ear. You gently bite the lobe between two earrings and whisper :

"I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk tomorrow"

The low growl coming from Jungkook makes you shiver with horniness and you know you're going to get what you wanted. You instantly feel him spanking harshly the soft flesh of your asscheeks. You moan at the burn but you don't have time to appreciate it because Jungkook lands another slap on your left cheek. It tickles so fucking good that you have to bite on his neck to prevent a long scream of pleasure. Your pussy is so, so wet that it's staining your boyfriend's pants.

He digs his fingers so deep into the flesh of your ass that his knuckles turn white and that it'll leave bruises on your flesh. He uses his grip to spread your asscheeks and gets a full view on your two glistening holes in the mirror placed in front of your bed. Even with the dimmed light, he clearly sees how your arousal is smeared all over your cunt.

"You messy girl. Do you see how dirty you are?" He lowly growls

He doesn't wait for an answer and slaps your — already red and abused — ass. The sound of the spank echoes in your bedroom, the same way it's followed by your choked moan. How can Jungkook doubt about how good he makes you feel?

You sneak a hand on your back to undo your bra and offer a great view on your tits. You press your breasts against Jungkook's face and you feel the vibration more than you hear his moan. He leaves messy kisses everywhere on your boobs, sucking the flesh from time to time. Your head rolls back and you arch your back when he captures a hard nipple between his teeth. He is chewing on it and a pool of arousal leaks from your clenching pussy. He then roughly sucks on it, just like he would do if he wanted to suckle on a bottle.

One of his hand appears to grab your other tit, slightly slapping it too. The air gets kicked off your lungs when Jungkook suddenly bites the nipple he had in his mouth, provoking a loud whine from you. The pain mix with pleasure when he rolls his tongue around it to soothe you.

You push him on the bed so he rests his back on your mellow mattress and swiftly place your knees on both sides of his handsome face. You give him a last smile before you sit down on his face.

You feel his tongue pressing against your covered clit and you can't help but roll your hips. With a precise movement, Jungkook's inked fingers hook your thong and push it aside so he can directly access your cunt. His tongue slides up and down your slick folds and his nose bumps onto your clit. Your moans are filling your room and you have no choice but to grab your boyfriend's hair to steady yourself. You are glad that he still has long locks and only cut short the sides.

"Fuck, baby, it's so good" You groan but you get choked up when he suddenly suck on your clit "Oh my fucking god!"

Jungkook smirks against your pussy while your juices are leaking down all over his face. He grabs your ass and makes you grind on his face at a fast pace. Your brain gets foggy at the feeling of his expert tongue and nose bumping against your bud of nerves and sliding onto your vulva. You press deeper to feel more, not caring if you're suffocating Jungkook. You are too deep into pleasure to care and you know he has enough strength to push you away if he needs to. His tongue teases your entrance but never gets in, preferring rolling around your clit instead to drive you crazy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You inform him and you get closer when Jungkook digs his fingers deeper into the flesh of your ass

"Make me drink that potion" He teases against your wetness

Your arousal gets the grinding real smooth on your boyfriend's ruined face and it's fucking hot. He even jiggles his head from left to right at a quick pace to reach all the spots of your pussy, filling your bedroom with sloppy and oh so hot sounds, and you explode. You're cumming hard and the spasms of your body have rarely been so strong. You don't even have the strength to keep your upper body up and fall miserably on your bed with a goofy grin.

"Good girl" He praises

With a predator eye, Jungkook pokes his tongue out and licks your juices on his lips. It does little to clean him up because there are traces of your arousal on his chin, cheeks and nose. All his lower face is glistening with your wetness that it's fucking hot. He grabs his former t-shirt that was abandoned on your bed and wipes off his face.

"You're beautiful" You whisper, making Jungkook smile and his eyes get more affectionate

"You are more, baby" He replies and prevents you from arguing by capturing yours lips

You taste your cum on his tongue and moan in the kiss. Your hands work on his pants to push it down, along with his briefs. He is so hard right now that his cock twitches instantly when you grab it. You love how thick he is, he always stretches you well.

"I want to feel you in me" You tell him

Jungkook only replies with a nod and scoots over just the time to completely peel him naked. Your eyes travel through his perfect body, from his shoulders to his strong thighs passing through his abs. However, it's his dick that attracts you the most. You bite your lower lip and open your legs wider for your boyfriend.

You're surprised when two of his digits enter your pussy without warning. Your eyes shut of pleasure and your moans gets unsteady because of the depth and velocity of his fingering. He is shaking your whole body through your poor cunt. You are still very sensitive from your first orgasm and Jungkook is screwing deep and roughly. You can only grab your sheets and your toes curl up when Jungkook curves his fingers to pump on your g-spot.

He goes so harshly on you that you can't think anymore. You are not even aware of your screams and cum in a record time, squirting all over your boyfriend — for his greatest pleasure. You even splash your sheets and his abs.

"You are so dirty" He purrs in your ear but he is the only driving you crazy when he spreads the juices of his soaked hand on his member as he is jerking himself off

You can't believe you have cummed this hard in such a little time. It's not the first time Jungkook makes you squirt but usually it takes way more time and only appears at the end of your fuck when you have already reached your high a couple of times.

"They should see how fucked up you get when you're with me" He cockily says, referring to your viewers "You are such a little slut for me. Do you even cum with other men?"

His question is backed up with a pinch on your nipple.

"You're the only one" You reply in a whine

Your answer satisfies your boyfriend and he bends over to kiss you, way tender now. He takes place between your legs and the mess you've done allows him to enter you in a swift motion, all the way until his balls are pressed against your ass. Your moan is longer as the pleasure is traveling through your entire body. Your walls are so stretched that you wonder how you are not split in half already.

"I should fuck you on live to make this motherfucker shut his fucking mouth" He growls in your ear as he gives you the first dick strokes — deep and slow to enhance the sensuality

"You should, baby" You whisper and your walls clench around his fat cock because the idea is really arousing

As he starts thrusting into you with a quicker pace, you manage to reach his throat and suck hickeys. Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours with one of his hands while the other one roughly cups your face to give you a messy kiss, full of tongues and saliva. The way Jungkook is rolling his hips allows him to reach all the right spots inside you. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you groan his name — groan that is immediately swallowed by his mouth. Your arousal is coating his length but you have so much more that it's rolling down his balls.

He fucks you with so much force that your bed cracks but it's a problem for later. You can't think about anything else than him when he kisses the thin skin of your throat, biting it from time to time. Your legs wrap around his tiny waist to keep him close and prevent him from stopping, even through he is not planning to.

Jungkook slightly lifts up so he can see your tits bouncing in rhythm. It's so hot that he fuck you rougher just to enhance the movement and pinch a hard nipple with his fingertips. He is fucking so rawly that sweat is coving his body and is making his black strands of hair stick to his forehead. Sounds of your clapping skins fill your bedroom, creating a beautiful music for his ears, especially with your whined moans. A fun idea lightens up in his head and he wraps a hand around your throat, choking you perfectly. Your poor cunt throbs around him. Why does he have to be so fucking good? He knows you so well.

"Scream how much you love when I fuck you" He teases you but tightens the grip around your neck

It gets hard to breathe, yet along to fulfill his demand.

"Hm? Tell me, baby. I can't hear you" He smirks "Be a good girl and let everyone knows how good I fuck you"

You want to say it desperately but you can't. Only chocked moans escape your lips. But all of a sudden, Jungkook takes off his hand and gives you a particularly rough dick stroke. The oxygen rushing to your brain and the air being kicked out of your lungs make you so high on sex.

"I love it!" You scream "No one can fuck me better"

"Who's whore are you?" He cockily asks

"Yours!" You moan

"Louder" He growls, his hand settling back on your throat but not tightening too much

"I'm your whore!" You whine as you feel your walls clenching around his cock

"Good" He gives you a harsh pounding "Fucking" Another one "Girl" And another one

You love it so much that your smaller hand lands on his to urge him to squeeze your throat. Your boyfriend does it but suddenly pulls off of your throbbing dripping cunt.

"Kook!" You whine but he shhhes you and rolls his fingers hard and fast around your clit

It's so sudden and intense that your breathe gets cut and that you giggle to escape the unbearable pleasure. However, the fist around your neck prevents you from running away from his ministrations. You're wet, soaked even, and Jungkook's fingers can roll smoothly on your bud. It doesn't stop your boyfriend from spitting on it, just to make your cunt messier. Your pussy is clenching around nothing but you're close again. You have asked Jungkook to fuck you rough, and he is giving what you wanted.

His frenetic pace on your clit plays with the border of pain and you can't hold on anymore. You squirm and your body is experiencing spasms from another powerful orgasm. You grab his forearm to stop his abuse on your poor throbbing clit when the overstimulation becomes too much to handle.

"Fuck, baby" Jungkook whispers is awe, amazed by how beautiful you are when you reach cloud nine

You are panting and your brain feels like wax. You need time to recover from the intensity of the three past orgasms. You close your eyes and rest your head on a fluffy pillow.

"I'm not done with you, baby" Jungkook murmurs as he caresses your skin with the tip of his fingers, drawing goosebumps all over your body

"I need a minute" You confess as you are trying to steady your breathing "You fuck me too good"

Your boyfriend chuckles and lands a multitude of pecks on your cheek, your throat, your shoulder, your boobs and pretty much everywhere. However, you are way too much into the bliss of your post-orgasmic state to notice how your boyfriend's pierced lips are traveling South. It's only when his mouth kisses your oversensitive clit that you jolt and squeak.

His vicious tongue pokes out and slyly licks the arousal leaking from your pussy. He looks like a cat licking its milk but you know he is as lethal as a lion. You throw a — what you want to be — death stare but Jungkook smirks because, deep into your eyes, he sees your lust. You can't deny that the sight of Jungkook between your legs is sinful and perfect. But shivers run through your body when his tongue takes another lap of your ruined cunt.

"I need to clean up my little dirty girl" He purrs and swallows a little bit more of your juices "Taste so sweet, baby"

"Fuck" You moan and you instinctively open your legs a little bit wider

Thankfully, Jungkook goes gentle on you — otherwise, you are not sure you would survive.

"You don't know how much I love eating your little juicy pussy" He teases you and an airy laugh escapes your lips

"I do know, you tell me every time you do it" You explain, tenderness noticeable in your voice

Jungkook and you exchange a knowing glance, right before he buries his handsome face in your folds.

"Those guys can comment all they want" He growls against your dripping pussy, slightly nodding his head toward your set up "They'll never know how you taste"

The possessiveness in his raspy voice is arousing. You love when your boyfriend claims you over other men. He is not the jealous kind — he cannot be when you're a cam girl — but he also manages to remind you that you are his in the most perfect way: fucking.

You cup his chin with your hand to force Jungkook to look at you. Seriousness paints your face when you tell him:

"I don't want anyone else than you. Do you understand?"

Jungkook nods and happiness fills up his chest, spurring him to capture your lips — the upper ones this time. You both smile in the kiss but your sneaky hand finds its way to Jungkook's cock. You jerk him off slowly, appreciating his velvety — yet sticky with your juices — skin.

"Get on your knees" He commands against your swollen lips

You get on all fours and arch your back like you know Jungkook loves it and swing your ass from side to side. Your boyfriend gets to see how wet you still are despite his little cleaning. He lands a rough slap on your ass and squeeze your cheeks.

He then wraps his hand at the base of his hard and thick cock and guides it to your entrance. He teases a little, hooking his tip in your hole just to poke it out. He does it a couple of times, hoaxing a begging from you to finally fill you up.

You gasp when he enters you all the way. You can feel him so deep when he fucks you from behind. It's like his fat cock is stretching you even better. Jungkook digs his fingers into the flesh of your asscheeks and spreads them to fully admire how your little cunt takes his dick, coated it with your arousal at the same time.

"Fuck, baby..." He hisses in bliss

His dick strokes are not gentle, making you jolt at each single one of them. You burry your face in your sheets to mitigate as well as you can your loud moans. Drool is leaking from your open mouth and you realize that your boyfriend is fucking you dumb. The thought is so pleasant that you clench around him.

"You pussy is so tight" He growls and he accompanies his words with a spank on your already red and bruised ass

Jungkook goes further in sins when he lifts up his thumb to his mouth to coat it with spit and smudges it on your pucker hole. You gasp and feel a wave of arousal when he pushes his digit into it. Fuck, it's so hot... The intrusion is so fucking good, making your pussy even wetter — it's now just a big pool of your juices. Your walls clench sporadically around him, notifying him how much you love it. It's no secret anyway, Jungkook has already fucked your ass in the past.

You love hearing how his sweaty skin is clapping against yours, and you love feeling your ass getting slapped by his lap at each pounding. Your boyfriend has to hold you tight to prevent you from falling on your bed. Your arousal creates some sticky threads connecting your two bodies, disappearing when he bottoms up and drawing new ones when he pulls off to the tip. Jungkook curses when he looks at it. It's fucking hot...

"You make me do all the work, you little slut" He complains

He halts his movements. You know what he wants but you also know that his order is arousing so you wait for it.

"Come on, fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are" He whispers lowly but his cockiness pierces in his voice "Show me how much you want it"

Jungkook feels your walls clenching and it paints a smirk on his lips. He watches you pushing your ass back to swallow his dick and then moving forward to the tip, just to push back again. Your pace is rough and you make sure to harshly hit his pelvis when you take his member deep into you. You look like a maniac, empaling yourself on his thick cock, but you can't think about it because you love it too much. Your cunt is throbbing from the past orgasms and is sensitive from all the poundings and yet, you want more.

Your boyfriend knows you way too well. He sneaks his inked hand in your hair and harshly tugs on it, forcing you to lift up your upper body and rest your back against his brawny chest. Your scalp hurts in the most delicious way and your tits bounce when Jungkook takes control of the thrustings. You look up and smirk when you notice your set up in front on you. This insane, animalistic and perfect fuck all began because of this... You should thank your fans because Jungkook has never fucked you this good.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and sucks more hickeys on your already redden and purple skin. The hand that was in your hair travels down to wrap your throat while the other one, sly, reaches your clit. You gasp when Jungkook starts circle motions on your bud.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!" You say in a breathe when you feel your cunt clenching

Despite the tightening of your walls, you are so aroused that your juices are dripping down in your inner thighs, making a mess of Jungkook's cock too.

"You are such a good fucking whore for me" He whispers in your ear, biting your lobe too

Your hands try to handle on his strong forearm as your sloppy pussy gets ruined by your boyfriend's poundings and his raw pace. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, your mouth falls open, your cunt throbs and your breathe gets cut off as his expert fingers on your clit drive you closer to the edge. You are so close, you know it and Jungkook knows it too. That's why he fucks you even rougher, earning some whines from you, and bites your neck, marking you in all the possible ways.

You almost passed out when you cum as white dots paints your vision.

"Baby!" You moan, scream or whisper — you can't know

Thankfully, Jungkook firmly holds you against him, otherwise you would be falling miserably on your bed since your forces abandon you at the same time the wave of pleasure washes over you. Your walls throb and your lower stomach contracts as you squirt again, ruining your silk pink sheets and Jungkook's cock. Your whole body is shaken by spasms due to the power of your orgasm. Why does you boyfriend love so much pushing your limits? Because he knows that you love it just as much.

"Such a dirty girl" He purrs in your ear but you barely register it since you are still in the fog "Look at the mess you have made"

To accentuate his words, he lifts up the hand that was on your clit at the level of your face and shakes it. Drops of your cumming fly all around.

"Rain, rain, rain" He laughs lowly, not thrusting anymore but keeping his hard cock deep inside you "You can't fake it"

You want to reply something, like that you would never do it and that Jungkook really does fuck you good, but you have cotton mouth.

"Look at how fucked up you are!" He mocks you "And this motherfucker thinks he can fuck you better?" His low laugh is full of cockiness but it's the truth

His wet fingers caress your lips and you part them out of instinct. Jungkook takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with his digits and watches in awe how well you suck on them. You hum at your taste and appreciate being able to drink something.

"My sweet good girl" He says gentler, kissing your cheek

"Baby, I don't know if I can take it anymore" You confess, turning your head to look at his handsome face

You can spot the affection in his doe eyes.

"Just one last time and I'm gonna fill your little pussy up. I promise"

His words are raw but his tone is soft, just like the kiss he settles on your lips. You nod and his big palm comes up to caress your cheek. It soothes you and allows you a moment of peace before the big finale.

Jungkook circles your frame with his strong arms and falls on his back with you. The surprise makes you squeak and you could laugh if his cock buried in your cunt wasn't making you moan instead.

You dig your feet in the mattress on both sides of his thighs, takes supported on his pecs with your hands and start some ups and downs on his length. His tip is perfectly hitting your g-spot and if Jungkook wasn't helping you to settle a quick pace with his hands on your hips, you know that your legs would crash down because of the pleasure.

It feels so good to have him this deep inside you. Your tits bounce and your moans get lost in your bedroom. Your boyfriend turns his head to the side to get a peak at you fucking yourself on his fat cock in the mirror.

"Fuck, baby, you're so hot" He praises you and you thank him with a squeeze of your cunt

His thumbs caress your skin at the same time. The movement is slight but you manage to feel it. It does some weird tricks in your chest and you quicken your pace. The only problem is that the marathon of orgasms Jungkook's put you through seriously decreases your stamina. It's getting very hard for you to jump on his cock, even though you absolute love the way he is filling you.

"Baby..." You whisper in a breathe "Need you..."

You don't have to finish your sentence because Jungkook understands.

"I got you" He reassures you

He makes you rest your back on his chest, wraps arms under the back of knees to get a full access to your cunt — making you tighter in the process as your thighs are pressed against each other — and firmly plants his feet on your bed. His poundings are so harsh that your head rolls back and no sounds escape your open mouth. You almost faint because of the pleasure provided by his dick strokes in your tight and swollen cunt.

"Fuuuuck" You whine

Tears are gathering at the corners of your eyes. Jungkook is fucking you too good for your own sanity. The way his thrustings are accompanied by loud skin clapping sounds is fucking arousing. Your juices are dripping down your ass to create a mess on your boyfriend's balls.

"Oh my god!" You moan when rough slap hits the side of your ass

Your toes curl and your brain gets foggy: you know you are close. There have been too many orgasms for you to count and you have now no strength to delay them. Jungkook has turned into a fuck-machine, leaving no rest for your poor pussy. You are amazed by his stamina.

"Are you going to tell them who fucks you good?" He purrs

"You fuck me good! So fucking good, baby" You exclaim in a state of euphoria

Your voice is even shaking because of his poundings — that's how much he is ruining you. You sob at his raw dick strokes, you are way more sensitive than usual.

"I'm gonna fuck you on live and everyone will know who's little slut you are. Isn't it that right, baby? Do you want me to ruin you in front of the whole Internet?" He teases you

"Oh, fuck yes!"

"Good girl" He praises, quickly pecking your shoulder

"Kook, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

You can't finish your sentence that you explode once again. Only this time, Jungkook enhances his pace which makes you squirt for some long seconds and you wonder if you will ever gonna stop.

"Don't stop!" You urge him while you are sobbing

Your boyfriend swipes your pussy at a rapid pace with his hand to extend your cumming and to make a bigger mess with your juices splashing everywhere. You can't hold back your scream of pleasure. You have never cummed so hard and God knows that you know what you are talking about.

"Champagne confetti" Jungkook laughs when the waterfall ends

"Please, cum" You beg him

The tiredness is noticeable in your voice. You can't take it anymore and his poundings are painful despite the remaining pleasure.

"I'm close, baby, just hold on a little bit more"

Jungkook frees your legs and you rest your feet on his strong thighs helping him to ruin you. His inked hand cups your face and turn it to his. He captures your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your moans. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't know what is reality anymore. The only thing you are sure about is him.

"Fill me up" You whisper against his pierced lips

You can only feel him nod and, with a last powerful dick stroke, he buries his cock deep inside you and releases his seeds inside you. You sigh in content and Jungkook whispers some soothing compliments. He hugs you tight but you are too tired to do anything.

Your sheets, just like your cunt, are ruined and soaked with your juices. You roll on your side and Jungkook's cock pulling off your pussy causes his white cum to leak. You don't really care anyway.

"Are you okay? Was I too much?" Jungkook worries as he witnesses your exhausted state

"It was good, baby" You reassure him but keep your eyes closed

You sneak against him and hug him as tight as you can with a weak body. You hear his beating heart in his chest as you rest your head on it. You hum, so happy to have him in your life. Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head.

"I have to tell you something" You murmur "Promise you won't be mad"

"I promise"

"Before I called you, I turned on a live... So everyone did see us fucking" You confess, hoping that Jungkook won't feel betrayed or anything

"I know. I saw the red light of your camera"

You lift up your head and witness some playfulness in his eyes. You offer him a bright smile and kiss him passionately. Fuck, you are so lucky to have Jungkook. His hands land on your bruised ass. You scoot over and turn to the camera. You look fucked up — and you are indeed. A smirk paints your lips and you look straight into the camera lens.

"No one can fuck me better than him" You announce and end up the live 

[broomsick]

Low energy land spirit work

Please note that I would recommend properly greeting land spirits before talking to them, or making offerings to them. If you're intrested in reading about my thoughts and experiences with land spirits, give this previous post a look!

Open the window and let the outside air in. If your window is equipped with a screen against bugs, you can place a drink at the window for a few hours to serve as an offering

Taking a walk around the block, spotting the nearby trees, gardens, flowerbeds, rock formations...

Journal about your personal relationship with local natural spots, indigenous plants, wildlife...

Become interested in local birds! Birds are among the most common types of wildlife to be observed in urban areas, which makes it all the more relevant to do so. Setting up birdhouses also makes for a great offering!

Limit the amount of processed foods in your diet

Read up on plant identification in your area

Engage in artistic activities in order to depict nature! It might seem silly, but it's a good visualization exercise, and any time spent meditating upon the land spirits may be considered devotional. Drawing, painting, writing... no matter your activity of choice!

Reflect on what local issues might affect them, especially concerning environmental protection

Leave a bowl of clear water outside as an offering

Do your part to respect nature: composting, recycling, saving water and the like make perfect devotionals

Talk to them regularly, if only once a week. Spend a moment outside to tell them of your appreciation for their presence and protection

Use natural elements to decorate the house: get flowers when available, pick up the acorns or fallen leaves that strike your fancy...

[kumkaniudaku]

Mine

Summary: Happy Valentine's Day!

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Smut (18+)

Flurries of Valentine's candy grams and foil balloons filled Patrice's 3rd-period senior AP English classroom as she ran through a reflection question on August Wilson's Fences. While February was set aside for love, it was also the one time Mrs. Richmond was allowed to discuss Black literature in the school year without pushback from administration and parents alike. 

Just as pencils hit the paper to answer why Friday nights were significant for the play's central characters, a short beep and static filled the intercom system in the classroom. 

"Ms. Ellis -"

"It's Richmond," the class sang in chorus, earning a smile from Patrice. 

The voice on the other end chuckled before course-correcting. "Mrs. Richmond, we have a delivery in the front office for you. Do you want to come get it or send a student?" 

"Uh, I'll send someone down," Patrice answered. She pointed at her most responsible senior and silently directed him to grab the hall pass. "Can you say what it is? I didn't order anything." 

"Sorry. We're under strict instructions not to spoil the surprise." 

Terry. She didn't need additional explanation to figure out who'd taken time from their day to send a gift and request silence from strangers. He was cool as a cucumber when he left for work in the morning, but the uncharacteristic lilt in his voice on the way to a place he frequently expressed disdain towards was a dead giveaway he'd be dropping their promise to skip gifts and enjoy a quiet evening. 

Pregnancy and all its financial planning meant no money in reserves. No honeymoon, no big trips, and nothing extravagant for holidays. An unfortunate byproduct of looming parenthood on a modest income, but Patrice had made her peace with it all. They'd get the time back when Baby Richmond was old enough to spend a few days with their parents.

Anticipation collided with excitement as a bouquet of snowdrops and roses eclipsing her student's head was wheeled around the corner. Only her husband would commit seasonal flowers to memory from an offhanded conversation about rotating seeds in her garden for the spring. Whoever he'd paid to expertly arrange her winter staples into such a stunning display deserved their fair share of coins and then some. 

'Treece, Will you be mine?' scribbled in Terry's signature handwriting sat above a QR code on a small white card, eager for Patrice's attention once she got her hands around the ornate vase. 

"Mrs. Richmond got a valentiiine," one student teased to draw laughter from everyone in the room. 

That she did. It was her first in years and the one she'd longed for the whole time. She couldn't hide her smile when she took the final few minutes of reflection time to scan the code and watch her phone screen light up with another message after eagerly tapping the 'yes' option. 

"Merci, mon amour. I still owe you a honeymoon. I hope tonight will keep you excited until we get to touch Paris with our own two feet. See you soon. Je t'aime."

A goofy grin pressed past the neutral facade Patrice tried to maintain while butterflies fluttered inside her belly. Light jeering from students awaiting instruction and any piece of their favorite teacher's business she was willing to pass down only pushed her growing smile further across her face. 

Patrice read the message one more time for the road and clasped her hands together. "Alright! If we have some thought-provoking responses today, everybody gets their lowest grade dropped. Deal?" 

Long after his wife had made agreements with a cohort of 17 and 18-year-olds, Terry stood in their quaint kitchen, carefully placing beignets in the oven to keep warm. For all his exhaustive research into easy Parisian dishes to replicate at home, he knew his limits and how to circumnavigate the one thing Patrice specifically desired to taste in Paris. He searched high and low for the perfect dupe, drove nearly an hour away, almost fell behind in the cooking process, and still didn't regret going out of his way for the perfectly golden French donuts.

Steak awaiting its introduction to a sizzling pan rested near wrapped cowboy butter from Terry's father and a bowl of cut fries floating in ice-cold water. Oil popped as it reached its target cooking temperature. A bottle of non-alcoholic wine sat in a bucket flanked by the good dishes Patrice reserved for special occasions and another seasonal bouquet. In the living room, Marvin Gaye's 'I Want You' spun 'round and 'round on Patrice's old vinyl player, filling the house with some of Terry's favorite tracks. Candles lit strategically cast shadows on the walls for an added level of romance. The live stream of the Eiffel Tower taking over their wall-mounted TV looked out of place, but Terry wasn't willing to part with the silly addition meant to add realism to the night. 

Terry's humming kept his mind on track in a whirlwind of pans and dwindling time. The night had to be perfect. After years of wasted time and missed opportunities, he owed Patrice his best effort in their inaugural celebration. 

A car door slamming shut just as piping hot homemade frites were freed from the frying process made Terry's eyes flicker up to the wall clock to check the time. Finally, she was home. Work and responsibilities had already sucked up too much of her time. He planned to take up what was left with his undivided attention. 

After dusting his hands on a dish towel, Terry stepped out of the kitchen to meet the love of his life at the living room's threshold. 

Her grin, full of mirth and crafted solely for his pleasure, made his stomach turn a flip. He leaned against the wooden frame, watching her hang her coat on the hoot. "Hé, ma belle." 

"Wow. He's fine as all hell and speaks French? I'm a lucky girl." Patrice's compliment came with arms outstretched to wrap around Terry's neck. Strong hands pulled her close until his nose was pressed to pulse at her neck. She giggled into his ear. "Hi, Pooh Bear. Happy Valentine's Day. Thank you for my gift." 

Terry murmured into Patrice's neck. "Of course. Happy Valentine's Day, baby." He squeezed her sides before pulling back to kiss her forehead. "You like your flowers?" 

"I did. They're beautiful. Who taught you about snowdrops and QR codes, old man?" Her lighthearted jab came with long, slender fingers gently stroking his chest overtop his fresh black t-shirt. 

"The QR code came from the annoying ass Wyatt. Felt like I should get something out of always having to hear him talk shit about the Panthers." Terry took hold of Patrice's hand to drop kisses on her knuckles. "The flower knowledge came from this really pretty girl I know from way back. You think she'd be cool with havin' dinner with me tonight?"

Patrice felt herself returning to the shy girl of her youth. "She'd love to. Can she have a minute to clean up?" 

"Take all the time you need. Dinner will be ready when you come out." 

Two lingering kisses on her lips and a two-hand squeeze on her backside sent Patrice squealing around the corner and into the bedroom while Terry set off to finish preparing the night's meal. 

Wafts of Terry's cologne intertwined with Patrice's perfume in the bathroom's humidity, caught in a tango while she stood in front of the mirror trying to tame bags beneath tired eyes with concealer. Excitement coursed through her veins like her first date with the man of her dreams was on the other side of another light layer of perfectly pink blush. She couldn't fix her hair, dab lip gloss on her full lips, or slide on the floor-length lounge dress she purchased fast enough. Every second spent outside of Terry's presence felt like torture until she was sauntering into the kitchen to find him awaiting her arrival at the kitchen table. 

A low whistle passed through slightly pursed lips. "Sometimes I still can't believe you chose me," Terry started, his hand outstretched for Patrice to grab hold. "Come here. Let me see you up close." 

Patrice took slow steps forward to revel in Terry's attention, loving the way he seemed to see nothing else in the room but her. No flaws, no rising insecurities – only the most perfect version of the girl he fell in love with before love truly had meaning. 

"If you spend all night looking at me, we're gonna waste your baby letting me keep food down all week. I need those beignets in the oven," she joked as soon as she was close enough for him to grab.

With her hand in his, Terry helped Patrice spin in a slow circle, drinking in every inch of her body before stopping to pull her into his lap. "I can't hide anything from your mommy. You gave her a super nose." His words came in a soft, silly voice he almost couldn't control as he rubbed the slight pudge of Patrice's belly. "This dinner is very special, champ. Let us enjoy tonight, okay?" 

"All of it, you hear? Your daddy brought Paris to us, and I will eat this steak whether you like it. Well done and all!" 

Baby Richmond had no objections to well-done steak and crispy frites, even fighting for more of their father's rare cooking as conversation meandered between the day's happenings and the type of mushy romantic back and forth that sounded almost too cheesy to be true. Terry and Patrice ate, drank, and traveled down memory lane until their stomachs ached and their eyes were misty from laughter.

Things I Love About Terry. Terry smiled as he scrolled through the digital scrapbook Patrice crafted to get around their gifting rule. Reason #8 was his favorite: I love when we kiss, and he doesn't want to pull away. It reminds me of our first one every time. 

He chuckled. "That's cute that you still remember that. It's also cute that you think this doesn't count as a gift."

"No! We had a no paid gift rule. I didn't spend money on it. Which you broke first, by the way." 

"Flowers are not a gift. They come with the service." Terry listened to Patrice regard his Boondocks callback with a mumbled 'whatever' and smiled before locking his phone. "But, since free gifts don't count, I have something for you." 

Patrice danced in her seat, preparing for another sweet treat to satisfy her cravings. "Is it a turnover? I hope it's a turnover." 

"You're pushing it, Treece. Don't make me tell your business at the next appointment." 

"Snitch." 

Terry shook his head at her mumbled insult while he dug behind containers of protein powder in the one cupboard she had never opened for the gift he'd been holding since the day things bloomed, burned, and resurrected between them.

If not for his mother's antsy mind getting the better of her earlier in the week, Terry would've never uncovered the gem hidden in his childhood bedroom's closet. The weathered outer cover had long been scrubbed free of any identifiable marker of its contents, but page after page of dated ramblings reminded him of all the lofty goals he'd written as a teen. Dreams of a booming NFL career and a utopian society concocted from a naive mind littered each page. 

He flipped and laughed for several minutes until he reached the entry coincidentally dated for his 16th birthday. Imagine you've jumped 10 years into the future and are writing a letter to your current self. What might your life look like? Talk about your career, family, and any additional details you desire. 

The "love letter," as his father called the two-page plan for his next decade of life. Terry had gone to great lengths to hide it after Marvin's teasing, guarding the speckled notebook with his life and tossing it into his closet once the schoolyear ended to rid himself of the embarrassment. He never expected to live out much of the wishful thinking penned on the withering, yellow pages of yesteryear, much less share them with the subject of his affection then and now. 

Patrice watched Terry slide the open notebook across the table with a quizzical look, glancing down at half-legible chicken scratch and then back up at her husband. "What's this?" 

"It's history," he answered plainly with a secretive smile. He slid into his seat and pointed at the notebook. "Can you read that to me?" 

More questions bounced behind Patrice's eyes, but she saved them all to fulfil Terry's wish with no pushback. Blinking the blur from old contact lenses, she started from the top. 

"Hey Past Terry. It's you from the future. I know you have a bunch of questions, but I'm only going to answer the important ones. You'll just have to figure out the rest on your own. It wouldn't be as fun if I gave you all the answers. To start, your life is completely different. You haven't won a championship yet, but you're close. You'll get there soon, and when you do, it'll be the biggest story on ESPN. You'll get to watch all the talk in your big house in California that overlooks the beach. It's nice. You get to go down there every day during the offseason." Patrice smiled and looked up at Terry. "We both owe Young Terry at least a weekend at the beach." 

Terry's half smile grew wider. "We'll do Hilton Head before the baby comes. Keep readin’.” 

"Damn, the cure to cancer must be in here," Patrice joked before continuing. 

"California is a great place to raise a family. You don't have any kids yet, but you and your wife are thinking about it. I don't want to spoil who it is, but at some point, you'll try to get her to stop working…again. It doesn't matter how much you try to convince her, she still wants to work because she's good at her job. She's good at everything. So, give up and let her do what she wants." 

Patrice still hadn't connected the dots as she looked back up at Terry and smirked. "Well, sorry to whoever that lady is. Maybe in another lifetime."

"Yeah," he laughed before Patrice moved to the next paragraph. "Maybe."

"Not to get too mushy, but we really love her. It's not like the silly, made-up love in movies. It's the love mom and dad have. The kind where you laugh and joke all the time. She's still stubborn, but you know how to talk to her better, so you argue a lot less. At least about the serious stuff. That's the cool part about marrying your best friend. You know each other for a long time and things just make sense because they always have when she's around." 

Patrice wished she could blame the catch in her throat and the sting of tears at her waterline on pregnancy hormones and not the rush of sudden realization once she looked up at Terry. "Oh, Terrence. That's me." she sniffled, trying to catch stray droplets before they hit the page and distorted the next lines. 

"When you win on Sunday and Monday nights, she's always on the sidelines to tell you that you played a good game, except when you don't. Then she gets all sassy like she used to in school. She still doesn't like football all that much, but she shows up anyway in your jersey. It's dope."

"Some of that held up," Terry chimed in, half-joking as he reached across the table for Patrice's free hand. "You still don't like football, and don't hold back if I'm fucking up." 

She laughed and shrugged. "At least I'm consistent." 

Consistent, his greatest support system, the most complete love he'd ever known – Terry could go down the list rattling off Patrice's best attributes and contributions but preferred to let her read the most intense thoughts his limited teenaged mind could concoct in a 15-minute journal entry.

"I'm probably not supposed to tell you the truth, but I don't know if all of this will come true. I'm not asking you to do all that, even though having all that money would be super cool! Just make sure you're happy. Be happy and marry your best friend as soon as you think she'll say yes. I'll be pretty mad if you don't do that. Hopefully, you'll be writing a letter to me soon. I wanna know if it all panned out."

Thirty-plus-year-old Terry considered writing back to his younger self many times. Once, after basic training when the anguish of a newly broken heart and being ripped away from the comforts of home brought with it what he later came to know as a deep depression. Then again, on his 26th birthday, for continuity's sake. The third time, he'd typed his way through four pages of explanation, needing to level set with a past version of himself regarding all the ways he'd come up short but planned to make good on all his promises. He couldn't bring himself to continue when he reread three days worth of incoherent thoughts. Not without all the pieces to the puzzle. Now, though, with a rock on his best friend's ring finger and happiness permeating every layer of his being, he could think of more than a few things to write about. 

"A lot of my life was never part of the plan," Terry started once Patrice had read off the letter's final goodbye. "I wasn't supposed to be a Marine or still live in Fayetteville past my 18th birthday. I'm damn sure if that version of me were around, he'd be fuckin' pissed we haven't seen the ocean in over 20 years," he laughed along with Patrice as she pushed water droplets off her round cheeks. "But, baby, you have always been the goal. Even when I was stupid and far away. I need you to know that." 

Sure, Patrice understood the words from his lips and the fact that they were some of the sweetest sentiments she'd ever had directed in her favor. Grasping Terry's love, enduring for over a decade in all its staggering depth and complexity, was something totally different – something she'd spend lifetimes trying to unpack. 

Still, she allowed her legs to carry her and their unborn child around the table to sit in her second favorite seat, just to feel his warmth radiate across her skin. "I know." Soft lips connected for a sweet kiss their younger selves would blush at if they were present. Patrice cupped Terry's face in her hands. "Thank you for loving me the way you always have, babe. When you write back to that version of yourself, I hope you tell him how much I love being by your side. I loved you then, and I love you even more now. Make sure you tell him that, okay? Tell him he wasn't the only one excited about marrying their best friend one day." 

"I'll let him know." A partial truth. He'd eventually get around to trying out the journal his mother had gifted him years ago and unleashing years of updates onto lined pages. He owed 2009 Terry a rundown of what his life had become. 

But Terry couldn't tell such a young, impressionable mind about how they explored each other like professionals deep into the night. He couldn't share how her skin still felt like premium silk against his all these years later. Or how he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be inside her. One time wasn't enough. Twice couldn't come close. He needed her until he was a panting, weak mess. And even when he felt like he couldn't go anymore, hearing Patrice call his name for one last time energized him enough to push the thought of fatigue to the back of his mind. 

With her head hanging off the right edge of the bed and looking up at him expectantly, Terry leaned down to kiss her plump, swollen lips. "After this, we're getting ready for bed, okay?" 

"Yes, sir." Though sweet as pie, the glint in Patrice's dark eyes communicated the final decision was all hers. They were done when she was done. 

Her fingers danced up her torso, taking a short pitstop at nipples saluting their favorite person to twist and pull before taking hold of her prize for the night. Terry jerked forward as he watched her under heavy lids. He'd get to his end of the bargain in a few. Watching her slide his leaking tip across her pursed lips was the main attraction. She hummed to herself, satisfied with the small mess she'd made across her mouth, before welcoming him inside her throat. 

Terry caressed her cheek, using his thumb to clean up wayward saliva. "Two taps when you need a break. One when you want to stop."

Patrice took in the instructions and discarded them just as quickly. His care was endearing, but she didn't wait over a decade for their first Valentine's Day together to take a break. Breathing through her nose, she took him in inch by inch, stroking the back of his thighs lovingly while he hissed and moaned his way through shallow strokes. 

Modified 69 needed two to make the experience complete. Blinking back into the present, Terry reached across the comforter to grab the fully charged purple stimulator, waiting to jump into the fun. His rough palms rubbed a soothing path across her belly, stopping to appreciate the gentle slope on his way to the warmth between her thighs. 

"Keep 'em open for me, pretty," he murmured, more focused on the clear strings of arousal connecting his fingers to her clit. He pulled them back to savor her taste for the umpteenth time. A light smack against her pussy produced a needy moan that sounded like music to his ears. 

Rhythmic suction on both ends of the spectrum kept them loud enough to wake the neighborhood. The depths of Patrice's throat were always a welcomed home for him. Wet and sloppy head the way he liked it kept Terry grinding the vibrator against her clit to feel the vibration of her moans against him. As much as they wanted to go forever, this type of pleasure would ensure forever didn't last too long.

Saliva pooled at the corners of Patrice's lips. Glistening arousal from being edged over and over with her small but mighty little friend created a puddle on the towel beneath her behind. She cried for relief Terry wasn't willing to grant. He wanted a photo finish – something to make their first Valentine's fuck worth it. He pulled the toy away and slowly slid himself out of her mouth, earning a small mewl in disappointment. 

He grinned down at her before gripping her chin. "Tongue out for me, Piggy." Patrice did as she was told, receiving her favorite form of payment in return. Spit kept them tethered to each other in a lewd display of affection until she had all she could handle. "You ready?" 

"Mhmm," she hummed, nodding despite the ache in her neck. 

Casting the toy aside and bracing himself on the bed, Terry resolved to let himself go and give Patrice what she really wanted. Methodical strokes to elicit gags and gargles sexy enough to make any man combust filled the room while he fucked her face silly. A fantasy turned into a reality. She held herself steady by his thighs, pressing crescents into the flesh as the bed rocked beneath her. Time turned into an outdated, meaningless concept second to receiving and giving pleasure in her world.

"Fuck," Terry whispered to the ceiling with his eyes clamped shut. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm about to –" 

Patrice wanted to tell him he had nothing to be sorry for. He'd given her sweet gestures, affirming words, and absolute filth in equal measure. She felt like she should've been thanking him instead. Her only regret was being deprived of seeing the look on his face when he crossed the finish line and drained himself on her chin and throat with a shuddering moan he didn't have time to be embarrassed about. Terry's hands pumped at his shaft until he was spent and gasping for breath, leaving Patrice to run her hands up and down his hips for comfort. 

But one was not two, and she still deserved her happy ending. Terry's trembling fingers regained enough strength to grab the still buzzing helper and press it against Patrice's clit, not letting up as her hips jolted off the bed and her thighs tried to close. 

He held one leg against the mattress and pulled his lip beneath his top row of teeth to remain focus. 

She called his name for mercy, but the plea went unanswered. "Terrence!" Still nothing. Only the maniacal flash of lust in his eyes greeted her. "Oh my – ooooh! It's too much! It's too much."

It wasn't enough. Not until her body seized and heavy breathing turned into silent gasps. Patrice gripped him tight as she used all her strength to prop up on her elbows and take part in the water show unfolding beneath her. Two firsts in one night. 

"That's my girl," Terry praised without letting up. "That's my good girl. You see what you doin'?" 

"Yes!" Patrice shouted, unable to stop her body from reacting. 

Terry bent at the waist to kiss the top of her head. "Breathe, Treecey. Don't hold it in." 

In through your nose, out through your mouth. The words became muffled in Patrice's ears, only gaining clarity when the ringing ceased and her breathing evened. She leaned against Terry's chest to smile up at him, covered in his essence, finally satisfied. "I look insane, huh?"

Terry plucked at a stray lash extension and chuckled. "You look beautiful. My pretty baby." He kissed her forehead. "Always have been. Mean it." 

His. In sickness and in health. For rich or for poor. On Valentine's Day or a random Wednesday afternoon. Terry, in all his life's stages and every universe, Patrice Ellis Richmond was known to him as one word: mine.

—————-

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[jealousmartini]

STUFF I CANT WAIT FOR IN MY MHA DR .𖥔˚🎀

   ── .✦  ┆  𖤐  ┆  ␥ 

⤷ a bit of FYI

Because I am shifting to my dr during the end of the 2nd school year, I will have already found vigilante Deku with the rest of class 1A, won the war arc against my own personal nemesis, and had my awesome quirk awakening. It's also 5 days before Bakugo's birthday in my dr AND it's the weekend (Friday) so I dont have to worry about patrolling or homework when i literally just got there! So it's free time!

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

... Super stoked for!

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Seeing my entire appearance!

Not even gonna lie to yall.. I am SO stupidly fine in all of my mha drs actually. But specifically talking about my main mha dr, I literally am so gorgeous. My body is so undoubtedly bomb, my face card is fire, my hair so tea.. no wonder so many people are down bad for me. I know for sure the first thing I'll do when I shift is stare at my reflection, tracing my curves and all.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Wearing my hero costume, using my quirks and my gadgets

My hero costume is so iconic. It's like a mecha space suit centered around a cunty corset with big ass chunky boots like uraraka, a pair of bug eye looking goggles and a mecha headset with antenna. The space theme is fitting for my for my quirk, and my Twilight sparkle ahh hair.

My magnetism quirk is so much fun dude. I can make anything attract, retract or rotate to or from me, and manipulate it to mimic telekinesis. Uraraka wannabe yeah yeah I know but it's unique enough for it to be it's own thing. Using it creatively is gonna be a blast too!

In my dr, I am a pro at creating gadgets, weapons, and upgrading preexisting gear. I work in both the hero and the support course so my class mates get the best of both worlds cus they've got a mini Tony stark in their class. I even got the spare keys to the utility support room.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Hanging out in my dorm room, the dormitory and my best friends rooms

I made slight tweaks to the design of the dormitory, the rooms are a bit bigger and it isn't just green and yellow ew. Also the class rooms in the UA building have big ass windows to the left, the tables can fit 2-3 students and the rooms aren't a cold blue hue anymore.

My room is perfectly customised to my personality, my likes, my needs and all that stuff. I've got my entire pinterest closet in my wardrobe, my makeup, my trinkets and my gadgets on my tables and shelves. The walls are decorated in anime, game and movie posters, drawings and sketches of my gadget plans and polaroid pictures of my family, friends and classmates. My room has a colour pallet of pinks, burgundys and cream with dimly lit off white and orange accent lights. It's very homly, very comforting.

I also have a mini fridge, a ceiling fan and a two screen computer in my room. Each floor has bathrooms and shower rooms of their own. I'm on the same level as Momo, Ochaco, Kirishima and Katsuki. My most visited rooms are Uraraka's, Mina's Katsuki's, Deku's and Kirishima's. I like to welcome myself and relax on their beds. Sometimes I bicker, most times I gossip with them and actually more than most times, they visit me more than I do them. I can't wait to casually hang out with them, go out to eat, go on trips with them, especially since I'm part of "Baku squad"

And btw he dormitory has robot maids and floor cleaners that do most of the cleaning around the building, including the washing in the kitchen.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| The FOOOOOOD

See we've got some bomb ass cooks in our class already, me being one of them ironically enough. But we are actually allowed to order takeaway to the dorms. The house rules are that you shouldn't order food past curfew but most of the time, Aizawa doesn't notice so I do it anyway.

There is also a shopping center close to campus and some convenience stores with my fave foods and stuff I've always wanted to try like tteokbokki, pho, seafood boil, ramen stew all that good stuff🫠🫠

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Seeing my crushes: Katsuki, Uraraka, Sero and Kirishima

Lord. I can't even say too much because I love these idiots so much UGHHHHH. I've got casual crushes of Uraraka, Sero and Kirishima but good GOD I am down bad for Katsuki.

I've scripted that me and Spikes end up together in the middle of the 3rd year but it's initiated by... ME. Yeah that's right bitch I scripted I grew a pair of balls and asked him out😝. I know it's pretty basic for an mha shifter to have cactsuki as their s/o but yall don't get him the way I do and I seriously don't care. I stood on business and pulled that bitch like my quirk was on. Period

I will admit tho Katsuki intimidates so bad but like in a good way. I love an intimidating, scary but funny, brash, stern babe. Like come here and kiss me but also don't cus ill run away.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| THE FAN EDITS, FICTION, GIFTS AND ART

Yall already know as shifters how exciting fan stuff are. Not a day goes by when Im not daydraming about the edits especially. I can't wait to see what my fans are up to, react to their edits, fanfiction, gifts and art on live stream. I scripted my fans are super creative and most of them ship me with people I actually like🤭🤭

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Going patrolling with my bbygirls

I'm so excited to use my quirk in action especially when I've already had my quirk awakening. I scripted I can formulate and act out plans perfectly and quickly. I also scripted most patrols are fun, relaxing, exciting or interesting. I'm always learning something new, meeting new people, going new places and growing bonds with my team mates.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Streaming and being featured on popular streams

One of my hobbies is streaming/vlogging/blogging. I have been recording my experiences as a student in UA and a hero since the beginning and I've got a big following that catch up with me every now and then. I use two different cameras; a high quality one and an early 2000s digital hand cam to make it look like I'm in 2006. I do a lot of eat with mes, I gossip, I do study with mes I draw and anime a lot and I also do gaming as well because I am the biggest game geek.

I'm also pretty siked to appear on popular Streamer lives like kai cenat and Speed. The interviewers are going to be so entertaining since I'm just a British girl talking about my experiences as a British student in Japan and the amount of culture shocks ive gotten.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Seeing me in Horikoshi's art

Fun thing I scripted. Horikoshi made a manga of class 1A which is literally MHA but I'm in it this time. Idk how this is going to work but I thought this would be sick.

Speaking of art I am an artist in my dr too. I've got stacks apon stacks of notebooks filled with me and my friends, even my hw has little doodles in the corner. I'm very excited to draw my friends, myself, my favourite medias in my many art styles onto tiktok and tumblr and they actually get views😩.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Exploring Japan

And lastly exploring Japan has been one of my biggest dreams since forever. To explore the country with my favourite friends or just by myself in the day or night is a dream come true. The peaceful nature of it all motivates me to go walking every now and then. It is such a beautiful place.

[f1daydreamer]

Quiet With You

---

The hum of the city below was muffled by the thick hotel windows, but you could still make out the occasional honk, the distant purr of supercars speeding through the streets, and the never-ending buzz of Singapore nightlife. Lights danced across the skyline, golden reflections flickering across the walls of the penthouse suite.

You sat cross-legged on the bed, dressed in one of George’s black Mercedes tees, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs. You were scrolling aimlessly through your phone, but your thoughts kept drifting to him—George.

He had disappeared into the bathroom twenty minutes ago, muttering something about needing a shower to shake off the day.

You could tell the day had been hard on him, even if he didn’t say it out loud.

The missed pole position. The car tweaks that hadn’t worked out. The pressure. The media questions. The constant expectation to smile, be polite, and carry the weight of a team on his back.

It was his job. His dream.

But sometimes… it was heavy.

And sometimes, he just needed to be held in a quiet room by someone who saw George—not the driver, not the face on screens or posters—but him.

The sound of the bathroom door opening drew your attention, and your gaze snapped upward.

There he was—hair damp, curls clinging to his forehead, towel slung low on his hips. His tall frame moved slowly, his expression unreadable.

“You okay?” you asked softly, voice cutting through the silence like a whisper in the dark.

He nodded, but it was too quick. Too automatic.

You closed your phone and set it aside.

George crossed the room, dropped the towel on a nearby chair, and pulled on a pair of black joggers before walking toward you. The overhead lights made his skin glow, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything—just stood there, gazing at you like he wasn’t sure where to begin.

“C’mere,” you said gently, scooting over on the bed and holding your arms open.

Without a word, he slipped beneath the covers, pressing his chest against your back and wrapping both arms around you tightly. You felt the weight of him then—physically, emotionally. He buried his face in your neck and let out a long, quiet exhale.

You stroked his arm, your fingers drawing soft patterns across his skin. “Tough day?”

He didn’t answer at first. Just held you tighter.

Then: “Yeah.”

The word was strained, broken.

You turned in his arms to face him, your nose brushing his. He looked tired—more than just physically. His eyes were distant, jaw tight.

“I couldn’t get the setup right today,” he finally said, voice hoarse. “The rear felt floaty, and no matter how much we adjusted, it still didn’t give me confidence. Then I over-drove into Turn 7 during the final run. Locked up. Ruined my lap.”

“You’re allowed to have bad days,” you said gently, reaching up to push a damp curl off his forehead. “Even superheroes get tired.”

“I can’t afford to have bad days. Not at this level.”

“You’re not a machine, George.”

“No, but sometimes I feel like I’m supposed to be.” His jaw flexed. “It’s just—every time I’m close, something slips. And I’m left wondering if I’m ever going to get it right.”

You could hear the frustration in his voice, the self-doubt eating at the edges. He was always so composed in front of everyone else. Calm. Polite. The gentleman racer.

But with you, he let the cracks show.

And God, your heart ached for him.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” you whispered. “Or to anyone, really. You’ve already shown the world who you are. Let them talk. Let them compare. At the end of the day, you’re still the one out there risking everything.”

He looked down, eyes on the space between your bodies. His hand found your waist, warm and familiar. “It’s like I’m chasing something I can’t quite touch.”

You leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Then let yourself stop chasing—just for tonight. Be here with me.”

His eyes lifted to meet yours, something softening in them.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

You shook your head. “You deserve more than I can ever give.”

His hand slid up your back, tracing your spine. “You give me peace. That’s more than anyone ever has.”

The room went quiet again, wrapped in that rare stillness that only came with being truly seen. You shifted to straddle his lap, your legs bracketing his hips, and George’s hands instinctively rested on your thighs.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his.

“Tomorrow, you’ll wake up and fight again,” you whispered. “But tonight, let me take care of you.”

He didn’t argue. Just nodded.

You kissed him then—slow and deep. Not rushed, not demanding. Just two souls needing one another in a world that never stopped spinning.

George’s hands slid up beneath the hem of his shirt you wore, palms skimming along your back, grounding himself with the feel of you. You felt him melt into it, like your touch was the only thing keeping him anchored.

“I wish we had more nights like this,” he said against your lips. “Just us. No schedule. No expectations.”

“One day,” you promised, brushing your nose against his. “Until then, I’ll steal every quiet moment I can.”

He smiled, finally—a soft, genuine smile that made your chest tighten with love.

“I don’t say it enough,” he murmured. “But I love you. More than I ever thought possible.”

Your breath caught, though you'd heard him say those words before, it always felt like the first time.

You kissed him again, your hand cradling the back of his neck. “I love you too. Every version of you. Even the frustrated, tired one with messy hair.”

He chuckled, pulling you even closer.

You stayed like that for a long while—wrapped around each other, tangled limbs and shared breath. The outside world faded, replaced by the sound of your hearts beating in tandem.

Eventually, George shifted beneath you, laying back against the pillows and pulling you with him, your cheek resting against his chest.

“Stay here,” he said quietly. “Even when the world gets loud again.”

“I will,” you whispered. “Always.”

And as the city lights flickered against the windows, casting golden halos across the room, you both fell asleep—not as a driver and his escape, not as two people defined by the demands of the world—but simply as George and the one he loved.

---

[delirious-donna]

Morning Epiphany [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: cockwarming with Hiromi was suggested to me when I opened my requests/ideas for this wonderful man and I immediately leapt on it because YES!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: cockwarming, reader being the teeniest bit mean to poor Hiro, whining and whimpering from the lawyer…

Masterlist

“Hiro… it’s so early, why are you in here?”

The sun had barely begun to crest, the earliest rays warming the bedspread that was surprisingly empty. A hand reaching out to your husband’s side confirmed the first stirring of your consciousness, he wasn’t here, and if he wasn’t here then there were only two places he could be.

Despite the lure of sleep trying to coax you back into the cozy haze of dreams, you couldn’t possibly sleep when your other half was missing, and so early too. The blinking lights of the alarm clock signalled the hour and helped to push your feet to the rug by the bed, stretching and pouting.

The bathroom was empty, there was no remnant of steam from the scalding hot showers he took every morning and you scowled at your dishevelled reflection in the mirror. Your hair stuck up at odd angles, eyes puffy from how quickly you got out of bed and your sleepshirt—an old well-worn sweatshirt of Hiromi’s—was creased beyond belief.

Your steps took you towards the office and the scent of freshly brewed coffee that wafted enticingly into your nose. The door creaked on antique hinges, your missing man turning with his brow furrowed from having his concentration broken. The expression shifted into a smile almost immediately, a sheepish smile at that.

“Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to,” he apologised sincerely, settling back in his chair to stretch his arms up and over his head. The wide sleeves of his black t-shirt, now faded to grey at best, pushed back and your eyes dipped to the hint of black happy trail that peeked from beneath the hem with a sigh of appreciation.

Hiromi couldn’t help but chuckle. Hastily he fixed his face with a look of admonishment, one sleek eyebrow rising near to his hairline. “Eyes up here, Mrs Higuruma.”

“Sorry—wait. Why am I apologising? It’s the arse crack of dawn, what are you doing up let alone working?”

His eyes drooped, nervously fidgeting with the pen on his desk.

Before he could respond, you grabbed the back of his chair and scooted it out further from the desk to his confusion. The lines wrinkling his forehead smoothed out when your knee bracketed his hip, followed by the other until you sat straddling his lap. Your fingers ran through the limp strands of the hair hanging near into his eyes, humming at the glorious warmth of his body melding into yours.

“Epiphany moment?” Hiromi offered uncertainly. He was too preoccupied by the soft squish of your hips and backside, hands full of the meat of you, and desperately trying to will his cock not to harden any further. To his disappointment and your triumph, he was failing miserably.

You planted teasing kisses to his jawline, barely-there touches of your lips until you were decorating his throat and prominent Adam’s apple with wet little marks. “Don’t let me stop you, Hiro… you can pretend I’m not here. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

He dropped his chin, staring at you with suspicious disbelief. Swallowing thickly when you offered your best most innocent looking smile, laying your cheek on his shoulders and drawing one of his hands away from where he was pawing at your rump. “Work, if that’s what you want to do.”

Hiromi groaned and looked skyward as if some answer would arrive if he begged for it hard enough. He knew this game well enough, and not once had he won. He didn’t fancy his odds on this particular day either.

It started out fairly uneventful. Hiromi managed to refocus his attention towards the computer screen and the ruling he had been in the middle of reading when you appeared, but soon enough the words no longer made sense. Your fingertips grazed his chest, delicate scrapes of your nails across the cotton hiding his nipples and it was maddeningly distracting.

Instead of calling it out, knowing it would only result in you doubling down your efforts, he exhaled through his nose and shifted in his seat to give some respite to the erection chafing the waistband of his pyjama trousers. Immediately, he knew it was the wrong move. Your pelvis sunk closer to him, rubbing more friction into his aching length and he swore he could smell your arousal hanging heavy in the air.

He did his best to ignore your naughty fingers moving between you, to pretend you weren’t pulling him free and playing in the mess of precum leaking from his tip. His fingers tightened around the mouse in his hand, the sound of plastic groaning from the onslaught of pressure enough to make him blink and loosen his hold.

“You will be the death of me, love.”

The loose fist around his shaft paused. “Keep working or I’ll go back to bed… alone.” You were slick with arousal, the lack of panties leaving a dark stain on the crotch of Hiromi’s pyjamas that didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. The temptation to lift to your knees and sink down onto his cock was building, but you couldn’t reward him so readily for his leaving you in bed this morning. Not until he was a little more desperate, and by the hue of the rash at his neck and dappling of his cheeks, there was still a little ways to go.

Hiromi was failing fast, and he knew you were waiting to pounce and worsen his predicament. Worsen was hardly the right term given how eager he was to be swallowed by your plush velvet-lined walls, but since you were insistent that he continue to work, he wasn’t going to be rewarded until he did. The pen scratched across the surface of his notepad, the ink drying in shaky lines whilst you cupped his balls and rolled them between your fingers and thumb. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was writing made sense but if it gave the illusion of cooperation, he’d write utter gibberish all day long.

You held out as long as you could manage, the burning desire palpable on the dewy apples of your cheek and the heat of your breasts hidden beneath your husband’s sweatshirt. At long last you teased his pulsing cock between your folds, tapping the sticky cockhead against your pert little clit and finally lining him up at your entrance. The muscles contracted around him, that first inch a delicious stretch that pushed you to your limits not to slam right down to his fat balls and cry out from the bliss.

The descent was drawn out, testing your patience and resolve to the limits, as well as forcing stuttering breaths out of Hiromi’s heaving chest. You didn’t chastise the return of his hands, the adoration sweeping through his palms as they raised the hem of your sweatshirt so he could see himself disappearing into your pussy. He fisted the fabric, grasping at your hips with eyes heavy with lust and you simply had to taste him, even only for a moment.

Your lips crashed atop his, tongue licking over the seam of his bottom lip and pressing into his mouth to swallow the whine that crawled from his throat. It echoed inside your head, the urge to roll your hips over and over until he filled your belly with his seed burned like a white-hot flame. Your skin itched, fingers curled into claws that dove into Hiromi’s thick head of hair and you nearly didn’t break your kiss, nearly were consumed by the passion you felt in your heart.

“Hmmmpff.” Hiromi wailed when you finally came to some semblance of your senses, your pelvis flush against his but no longer moving. He stared at you in longing, watching whilst you swiped a finger over your kiss-swollen lips and sucked the remnants of his spit from the pad. The smile you offered was purely saccharine, and his throat itched with the need to bounce you on his cock until you gushed all over him and the chair.

“Please?” He asked on a whisper, aquiline nose nudging into your cheek.

“You have your epiphany moment to deal with mister lawyer, c’mon… you can last a little longer. Let me warm you and once I’m satisfied, I’ll ride you until your legs want to give out,” you purred, mouth at the shell of his ear and leaving a kiss at the bone just behind.

Silently, he begged and pleaded for mercy on his tainted soul, as if some divine intervention was likely to intercept, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. You were the only divine deity in his world and your determination to give him a taste of his own medicine for abandoning the sacred ritual of morning cuddles was written across your features.

A sweat broke out across his brow as he studied the lines of text on the screen without recognising a single word. A drip of arousal dribbled from the spot you united, dribbling over the seam of his balls to stain the leather seat beneath. You clenched, and he crushed the pen in his hand, palm filled with tiny plastic shards that speared his skin.

“Darling… light of my life—I will do anything, anything, if you’ll just ride me,” he whimpered, discarding the busted pen and grabbing up your hands to kiss earnestly across your fingertips then knuckles. Hiromi was barely restraining the buck of his hips, the warmth almost too much wrapped around his dick but without the friction and rhythm of movement… it wasn’t enough.

Your resolve was being tested once more. The subtle wobble of his lower lip and the sincere longing in his whisky-smoked eyes cracked the shell of your conviction. Easing forward in one languid roll of your hips earned you the most delightful and pitiful whimper you had heard in a long time. His head fell back against the headrest of his chair, eyes screwed shut whilst you felt him twitch within your walls. He might just cum like this if you didn’t do something, and actually, you wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

Never more had you enjoyed cockwarming Hiromi than at this moment, and you vowed to draw it out as long as he could endure.

“Fuck, Hiro… you feel so good. So warm and snug,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into him more. “Five more minutes…”