#❣️; nothing fucks with my baby...

[fictionallyinparadise]

I think. Having my f/os call me their weapon or their attack dog would fix so many problems in me.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

yandere bunny hybrid x reader

A/n: the Intro was rushed because I got too excited to write the smut. Not proofread 🌺

Tw: noncon turns to dubcon, androgynous breeding kink, little dirty talk, he's a horny bastard. Mommy kink but it can be applied to any gender. Slapping body parts, he has a minor lactation kink. Mdni please!

★you met the little furball while you were out on a evening walk. It was the middle of winter and being cooped up inside the house all day was starting to get a little claustrophobic

★you didn't notice him at first since he blended in with the snow. Stopping mid-walk when you heard a weak little whine coming from behind you. Slowly turning around, you saw a pair of red eyes staring at you from beneath the snow

★approaching them slowly, you could finally see him more clearly. Milky white skin turning a light blue due to hypothermia. He didn't have the strength to run when you picked him up. Patting his head, you headed back home.

★giving him a warm bath and setting him next to the fireplace, you slowly nursed him back to health. He was very reluctant at first, but your touch was too comforting to pull away from. He hasn't felt this safe since he was just a baby bun! He stayed with you nearly the entire winter

★midway he starts to get himself familiar with your home, peeking under furniture and into rooms, he seemed to understand you when you'd ask him questions in English

"what's your name little fella?"

"cotton.."

★eventually you had to let him go back into the wild, just a month before spring arrived. He was reluctant but with enough convincing he finally left. Looking back at you from the forest edge, watching you wave goodbye with that beautiful smile he loves

❣️cotton who goes into heat early because he can't stop thinking of you. Burrying himself in his burrow, humping the air. Nothing is as soft as you and your bed. Nothing can make him feel as safe as your touch does

❣️he shoos any females who wish to mate away. Claiming he already has a mate. Oh he wished you'd come into the forest looking for him, to take care of him again as he fills your tight little hole up with his cum

❣️he spends most of his time shamelessly masturbating to the thought of you. His entire heat cycle has been on loop since he left, so finally gathering the balls he heads back to your cottage. Watching you from a distance, lazily stroking his already sensitive cock.

★just minding your business, you don't notice the certain bunny hybrid approaching slowly. You don't have much time to react before a familiar mop of white hair tackles you to the ground. Desperately humping your clothed sex as he whines and grunts.

"cotton!? What the hell are you doing!?"

"hah- nhg need.. mate.. pretty mate.. need to breed! Ohh!"

★you tried pushing him off, but when did he get so strong!? Pining your arms down and ripping your clothes off, wasting no time in lapping at your genitals. Eating you out like a starved man, sucking and nipping your inner thighs until he's sure you're nice and lubed up

★he carefully pressed the tip in, but he doesn't last long as he slowly sinks deeper into your gummy walls. Letting go of your arms and roughly grabbing your hips, which were sure to bruise later, brutally fucking your brains out. Slapping your chest and privates as he grinds his cock deeper

★he keeps going even after he's ripped multiple orgasms out of you. The pleasure slowly chipping off your resistance. Leaving you a blubbering moaning mess under the bunny. A pool of his cum under where your sexes kept meeting.

★it doesn't matter what gender you are, he's determined to breed you until you're swelling with his children. He couldn't wait to suck and bite your chest once it was swollen with milk!

"gonna be so pretty- mph! So pretty, all swollen 'n fat with my babies.. gonna be a good mate, right? G-gonna give me lots of 'em right? Oh ohhh! Cumming again! 'Yer squeezing all my cum out! Mommy!!"

★let's just say that you should get use to your new roommate husband, because now there's no way of getting rid of him. Ever.

[murdrdocs]

Sunshine….Tyler Owens hitching a chase with chaser! reader and he’s getting turned on mid-tornado cause when the RPMs stutter she keeps talking to her truck like “cmon baby, you’ve got it. I know you can do it for me.”

-❣️

suggestive content; dirty talk in mundane environments; MDNI 18+ w/ TYLER OWENS

tyler really wishes he took his truck, because your hunk of clunk is barely making it down the road. who knows what'll happen when you're forced to go off road. will your truck even last the damage speeding towards ya'll?

tyler's doubtful—extremely doubtful as he sits in your passenger seat, trying to hide his fear as he digs his blunt nails into the fabric seat beneath his rugged jeans.

"we should've taken my truck," he says again for the millionth time. the same five words have become his safety net, the only words he knows how to utter as he lets you shakily steer him towards—what seems to be—an imminent death. he just hopes it's quick and he's glad, for once, that there are no cameras around. he doesn't need his death immortalized for any curious, poorly supervised twelve year old with an adequate internet connection to find.

"we're fine!" you stress, taking a deep breath when your truck skips a beat. "it would've taken too long to get your truck. we would've missed it." tyler knows you're right, but he can't focus on that right now.

he squeezes his eyes shut, trying his damndest to remember the lord's prayer. he really should've paid more attention in church instead of spending his time counting how many people were in the pews over and over again.

"he's doing good. he'll get us there," you assure.

tyler peeks one eye open, turning to see you staring straight ahead. determination looks cute on you.

you reach a hand out, resting it on the dash as you press your foot harder onto the gas pedal.

"come on. be a good boy. there you go. you got it, baby."

jesus fuck this is so not the time, but tyler can feel his jeans getting tighter. it's the adrenaline, he keeps telling himself. the erection steadily growing in his pants has absolutely nothing to do with your smooth voice and your accent and your words.

"your truck's a boy?" the question has no place for this environment, but tyler has to say something, otherwise he'll be stuck in his head, forced to listen to your melodic encouragements to an inanimate object.

"don't fucking—" a golf ball sized slab of hail pelts right down onto the center of the windshield, immediately followed by multiple others. you don't let it faze you as you dip your head down, squint up at the sky, and steer your truck off of the road and into a field. "worry about that, tyler."

but that's all he can worry about whenever the things you're saying to your truck are things he wants you to say to him.

"we're almost there, baby, almost done. just hang on for me a little while longer."

do you know you're speaking out loud? do you know that tyler can hear you over the sound of the weather?

"come on," you grit, pushing the truck just a little further, and when you reach your destination, you put it in park, deploy your spikes, and watch it all happen. tyler snaps out of his daze quick enough to open his eyes and look out of the window, staring straight up the center of the tornado through your sunroof for his favorite part, and he almost forgets about what you've been accidentally doing to him.

until it's all over and you sigh.

"there we go, baby! such a good boy. so proud of you."

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Older!DinerOwner!Eddie x Fem!Reader

This is for my 1.6k celebration based on the prompt “make me” requested by @gri959 ❣️

Summary: You’ve been fucking your boss for almost a year now and he still won’t make it official, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. Wk: 1.5k

Warnings: Age gap(Eddie is early 40s reader is mid 20s), jealous/possessive Eddie, spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, breeding kink. 18+MNDI!!

You were driving Eddie absolutely insane, and you knew it too. It was like somehow your little work dress seemed even tighter tonight and the way you were walking around swinging your hips, leaning down on your hands in front of customers faces, giving them a nice little peek at your perfect tits.

It didn’t help that you were being extra flirty with the new line cook, Alex. He was your age and he honestly kind of reminded Eddie of himself when he was younger. Why would you want him when you could have the newer model? But despite his insecurity that was rearing its ugly head, Eddie knew he had you wrapped around his thick ringed finger and that you were just doing this to rile him up.

“When you’re done with this table, come talk to me.” Eddie brushes past you while you’re taking an order, leaning down to whisper in your ear. You make eye contact with him just long enough for him to see you roll your eyes as he’s walking off.

“What’s up?” You walk over to where Eddie is standing behind the counter near the register and look up at him all innocently, which you are far from.

“What’s up? You know exactly what’s up, I know what you’re doing, quit it out.” Eddie looks down at you through slanted eyes, his tone a gruff whisper.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about? I’m just doing my job.” You raise an eyebrow at him and set your lips into a mock pout.

“Drop the innocent act. You’re trying to make me jealous, just admit it.” He smirks at you and leans down further than is probably appropriate for a boss and employee, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck, it’s his diner, he can do whatever he wants.

“Why would I be trying to make you jealous? There’s nothing going on between us, right?” You turn your head slightly, lowering your voice even more to make absolutely sure only he would hear. “It’s just physical, right? So why would you be jealous?”

“You know what?” Eddie’s jaw ticks as he exhales through his nose. “I want to talk to you in my office after we close.”

“Yeah? About what? I have plans.”

“And I don’t care. I’m your boss and I need to speak to you about something regarding your job. Now get back to work.” He walks off, not giving you time to argue further.

“Okay, what’s the deal?” You walk into Eddie’s office, pushing the door closed behind you and stand in front of his desk with your arms crossed.

“Are you serious?” Eddie scoffs, abandoning the document he was signing on his desk in favor of glaring up at you.

“Umm yeah? You told me to meet you here and you didn’t say why so I’m asking what you wanted? Pretty normal if you ask me.” You shrug and Eddie swears he can make out the faintest hint of a smirk on your lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t play games you know you’ll lose.” Eddie chuckles, pushing up from his chair to come around and lean against the desk in front of you. “You really thought you were being sneaky? Prancing around here like that, bending over right where I can see, flirting with my employees, did you get a new bra? I’m not blind, baby.”

“Like I said before, there’s nothing going on between us… so… why would you be jealous?” You fully smirk at him now and god he wants to wipe it off your pretty little face.

“Just admit it, you were trying to make me jealous.” Eddie returns your smirk with one of his own as he leans back on his hands and crosses his legs. He’s so hot in those black Dickies work pants and his non-slip converse. He has on his restaurant manager shirt that accentuates his toned chest and shows off his thick tattooed arms. His hair is in that low bun that you love to rip out when he goes down on you and his facial hair is just a little longer than usual. Fuck.

“Why don’t you just admit that you were jealous then?” You give him a pointed look and he exhales through his nose because he’s about at his limit with your attitude.

“You know what? Bend over the desk.” He steps to the side, patting his hand against the wood.

“Why don’t you make me?” You roll your eyes, a dry chuckle escaping your lips, and that’s his final straw. He closes the distance between you and laces his fingers through your hair, pulling your face so it’s inches from his as his glowers down at you with his honey eyed stare.

“I said bend over the fucking desk.” He says your name through gritted teeth as his grip on your hair tightens, causing you to whimper, your bratty facade already breaking. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Fuck, okay.” He releases your hair and you whine as you walk on already semi shaky legs over to his desk, laying your top half across it, causing your dress to ride up and show off a sliver of your panties. “If you weren’t jealous you wouldn’t be all worked up like this so maybe you should just -“ your sentence is cut short when a harsh smack lands on your ass, making you yelp.

“Drop the attitude, doll.” Eddie’s hand pushes your dress up to reveal your plush asscheeks and tiny lacy underwear that barely cover anything. He pushes himself against you, his already hard cock brushing up against your barely covered pussy. His hands grip onto the globes of your ass, kneading it and shaking it in his palms. “I don’t know why you’re walking around here trying to act like this ass doesn’t belong to me, you know it does.”

“Maybe you should just get over yourself and make me your girlfriend then.” Your snarky tone earns you another spank, rougher than the last.

“What did I say about the attitude?” Both of his hands come down on your ass, his rings stinging against your skin causing you to moan. He does it again. And again. Until he starts to see faint welts from his rings and the marks of his handprints.

“This ass is mine.” One of his hands travels down to cup your pussy, thrusting the heel of his palm against your clit. “This pussy is fucking mine. Say it.”

“Admit you were jealous then.” Your voice comes out way whinier than you’d hoped, it practically sounds like you’re begging him as you subconsciously grind down against his hand. “Say you’re mine too.”

“You want me to be yours, baby, huh?” He pushes your panties to the side and runs his fingers through the slick lips of your pussy before bringing the tips of his fingers to your clit, circling it. “Tell me who owns this pussy then. Tell me and I’ll give you this dick.”

“It’s yours, Eddie, it’s all yours, m’yours.” You sound cock drunk already and he’s barely even touched you but you don’t even care. You want him so bad. You’re putty in his hands and he knows it.

“Yeah, that’s right baby girl, I fucking own you.” You hear the clanking of his belt before you feel the tip of his cock running through your folds, he collects your wetness, using his hand to jerk it along his shaft. He pushes his tip in, pulling it back out a few times before slamming into you. He starts fucking into you at a brutal pace, the desk sliding against the floor, your hips slapping together.

“Fuck, fuck yes, feels so good.” He’s so deep from this angle, practically bullying your sweet spot as your hips dig into the wood of the desk.

“Yeah, that’s right, take this fucking dick baby. This is my pussy, you’re so fucking tight, damn.” One of Eddie’s thick inked arms laces around your shoulders, pulling you up so your back is flush against his hard chest while his other finds your clit, his thumb rubbing quick circles against it.

“Oh god - fuck, fuck Eddie, I’m gonna cum.” You’re practically drooling as he plows into you from behind, he shoves his hand down your dress and into your bra, expertly finding your nipple and tweaking it between his fingers. “Shit, I’m cumming, tell me you’re mine Eddie, please, need to hear it.”

“I’m yours baby, this dick is fucking yours, pussy feels so fucking good squeezing me like that.” Eddie buries his face in the crook of your neck, placing sloppy open mouthed kisses there. “Gonna fill this pussy up, paint those pretty little walls, maybe I’ll knock you up, then everybody will really know who I belong to.”

“Yes, fucking fill me, fuck a baby into me, want it so bad.” Eddie groans, his hips still against yours as his cock twitches, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.

“Fuck, baby doll, fuck.” Eddie breathes heavily as he pulls out of you, grabbing onto your hips to flip you around. He reaches down between your legs, gathering the cum that dripped out so he can push it back inside of you. “Wouldn’t want any to go to waste, would we?”

Divider is by @strangergraphics & older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

[vivwritesfics]

Hi ❣️❣️❣️❣️

So.. let get this started lol

Ps If nothing makes sense, I will blame eo4k and it being late lol

So thinking one of the driver getting caught fucking their parents on like their boat/yatch?

Thinking either max, lance or fernando

Thinking aslocmayve a social media au?? With if possible twitter reaction?

Otherwise written 🫶🫶

Love you or as we say it in Swedish älskar dig ❣️❣️❣️❣️

*SHE MEANS PARTNER I WAS A TYPO

Hc's bc... i can lol

ALSO I READ THIS LOWKEY WRONG, WROTE A WHOLE FIC AND HERE I AM -- i mean its basically the same thing but still

warnings: smut, oral

Jos was lucky he was even invited onto Max's yacht

Max's girlfriend hates Jos

of course she did, he's an asshole

but she was still max's dad

so she couldn't really say no to him being there

but the yacht had a special place in her heart

the yacht held many... special memories

a lot of sexy ones

aka they had a shitload of sex on the yacht

and Jos Verstappen wasn't going to ruin it for her

max took some convincing

'no, i'm not going to rail you until you forget every other name but mine with my dad here'

jos was ruining everything

queue pouty , lowkey bratty reader

bc max isn't giving her what she wants

(to ride him on the sun lounger)

(but she can't do that with fucking jos there)

she couldn't help but thought that she brought all this pretty lingerie for nothing

she had no choice

she had to corner him

she got max into the bed (while she herself was wearing nothing but said lingerie) and shut the door as soon as he was in the room

leaning against it

refusing to let him out

"no way you're getting out of here until you've been inside of me, verstappen"

he needed very little convincing

like, has her on the bed, underwear pushed to the side as he drove his cock through her folds

but it was like a drug

he had her cumming around him once and suddenly he can't stop

fucking her within an inch of her life, burying his face between her legs

and then fucking him again

its never ending

until she's so overstimulated that she can do nothing but whine

BUT

it never gets to that point

because Jos doesn't know boundaries

he couldn't hear what they were doing, and they didn't hear him knock

but then jos opened the door

"Holy fuck"

she leapt away from max, leaping off the bed and hiding down the side of it

max cursed as he stuffed himself himself back into his pants

"Get the fuck out!" she shouted from her hiding space

but jos was still standing there for a minute

"jos im serious! Fuck off!"

he backed out of the room after that

she sat up, glaring at the door

"max, i'm gonna kill him."

"baby-"

"no, let me get dressed and then I'll fucking kill him"

[stylespresleyhearted]

POV: YOU’RE DATING CALLUM TURNER

or the one where i pretend i am Callum’s girlfriend (and also tagging @precious-little-scoundrel on this bc I GOTTA)

liked by yourinstagram and 56204 others

tmznews Callum Turner spotted with a mystery girl! Is the new heartthrob off the market? Link in bio for everything TMZ has on his new gal.

view all comments

user23 the invasion of privacy … yikes

user12 What does it say about me if I read the article because tbh I’m curious

fan12 don’t do it, lets respect their privacy

callumupdates Don’t give TMZ any clicks. Look at the horrible quality of the photos, they obviously weren’t supposed to obtain these. Callum will share when he is ready.

yourfriendsig At least she’s pretty 😍

yourinstagram stopppp haha

liked by rafflaw, anthonyboyle, and others

yourinstagram soft launching my man bc he’s hot and i love him ❣️ (oh yeah and tmz exposed us)

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fan12 GIRL THIS IS A HARD LAUNCH NOTHING SOFT ABOUT IT!!!!

user41 crrrryingggg omg iconic

user23 lol attention seeker

yourfriendsig It took me three years to be IG official with you, why does he get special treatment 😒

yourusername take a guess 😉

keoghan92 @tmznews you suck

liked by fan12 and 63917 others

deuxmoi Spotted: Callum Turner and his girlfriend at a pub in downtown London. Looks like no more hiding for this couple. Sources tell me they’re in love and don’t care who knows it.

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fan12 wahhh they’re so cute

user23 i’m so jealous but i also ship it so hard

fan41 my friend saw them making out at a diner last week lmao she said they were eating each other not the food

liked by austinbutler and 36072 others

yourinstagram so proud and moved to tears ♥️ the entire cast and crew did a great job honoring these brave men

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fan12 we love a supportive gf

fan41 what a great picture fr

user23 I met y/n at the event tonight and she was the sweetest, most HILARIOUS person its easy to see why Callum is in love with her ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, rafflaw, and 78912 others

anthonyboyle One Direction

view all comments

user97 OMGGG they’re so hot wtf

yourinstagram more like Wrong Direction

keoghan92 you think you’re funny huh

yourinstagram Callum finds me funny 🥲

rafflaw he’s biased he’s in love with u

fan91 cryingg she’s a part of the mota fam 💍🥹

liked by keoghan92 and others

yourinstagram hi movie star ♥️ i love you - your biggest fan

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rafflaw 💍💍💍👀

yourfriendsig @rafflaw LMAO DONT START THE RUMORS

appletv Mr & Mrs Egan spin off?

keoghan92 sappy

yourinstagram @sabrinacarpenter

liked by yourinstagram and 639 others

yourfriendsig good times

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user91 … the hand on her ass … making out … CALLUM TURNER I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE

yourinstagram why would you post this when you know im missing him 🥺

yourinstagram brb omw to ft him

fan23 i love the way y/n loves him she isn’t afraid to be a normal girlfriend

liked by anthonyboyle, keoghan92, austinbutler, and 941633 others

yourinstagram social media making fun of me for this but if he was your man you’d get it 😌 i say that’s my baby and i’m proud ♥️♥️

view all comments

fan12 if i didn’t see my bf for a week i’d react the same way people need to mind their business

yourinstagram it was only three days but yes your point still stands 😆

yourfriendsig y/n you’re an icon

fan92 i love them so fucking much pls adopt me

yourinstagram okay! ♥️

liked by austinbutler, rafflaw, and 76043 others

yourinstagram someone tell y/n not to leave her phone unlocked 🤣🤣🥳 - anthony & barry here!

edit: got my phone back. can’t bring myself to delete my boyfriend looks so cute. i guess barry and anthony look okay.

view all comments

fan23 LMAO PLS HOW DID THEY STEAL HER PHONE !!!😂😂CALLUM TAKE IT BACK!

yourinstagram he was supposed to hold it for me it didn’t fit in my clutch and he sided w the enemies 🥺

anthonyboyle New profile picture?

yourinstagram i’ll kill you

yourinstagram also i think it’s important for everyone to know @keoghan92 stuck his hand down my boyfriends pants pocket to get my phone

keoghan92 and i liked it

anthonyboyle 😂😂😂

—

The End

Ahhhhhh making this was so much fun!!! Y/N is a bit shameless in her adoration for her man but that’s the point!!! I’d be the same if he was mine (I mean look at Vanessa Kirby and Dua Lipa lmao)

Marina this is for us because this man deserves our love we’d make him so happy 🙌🏼

It was supposed to be silly and funny so don’t give me shit obviously celeb relationships would be a lot more private. And for bonus fun check this out ⬇️

[linos-luna]

Be quiet ❣️

Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+ SMUT! Rough sex, jealousy

Not proofread

——————————————————— 🔥

The room was filled with the noise of skin slapping, grunting, and the slightest whimpers that could escape your lips. ‘Could’ is the key word.

Yoongi was taking you from behind, covering your mouth as he mercilessly fucked you against the wall. Desperate moans and whimpers were smothered by his big hand, squeezing lightly as a warning.

“Hey, quiet!” He whispered in your ear. “You don’t want my friends to hear, do you?”

You almost forgot that his friends were right outside the door. Congregating in the living room, waiting for you and your boyfriend to come out. What were they there for? If only you could remember. You have no thoughts, if it wasn’t for your boyfriend covering your mouth, you’d definitely be loud.

But how did you get here? You were hanging out with his friends. Someone mentioned something about your skirt. And next thing you know, you’re being fucked against the wall with your panties at your ankles and skirt hiked up. Was he mad about something? It sure felt like it.

“Stupid sutty little skirt…” he grunted as he went extra hard on that sweet spot, enunciating each word, making your brain malfunction.

Your moans sounded more like squeaks as he reached to finger your clit. This had your body twitching

“Does my sweet girl wanna cum?” He teased with a pout. “Is she gonna make a mess all over for me?”

You couldn’t answer. Partially because his hand was still firmly covering your mouth, and the fact that you’re too drunk on sex to think.

Tears streamed down your face as you hit that orgasm. All your energy released, practically making you fall limp against him.

Yoongi pulled out and pulled you back against his chest, now holding onto your chin.

“Wow baby.” Your boyfriend smirked as he continued rubbing his fingers along your cunt, making you shake and whimper, doing your best to stay quiet. “You’re good at following directions.”

He can’t wait to take you out of the room. To have you dressed like nothing happened, knowing full well that he just fucked your brains out. Or maybe he should let them know. You wouldn’t mind a little humiliation, right? Plus, that’ll show his friends not to make sly comments. Why not make them jealous?

[netherfeildren]

At the Restaurant

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this, and his eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.

-OR-

the Christmas situationship AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Modern AU; Christmas fic; Angst; Fluff; Miscommunication; Emotionally unavailable idiots; But also idiots in love; Toxic relaationships; Situationship; There is nothing well adjusted about any of this pls don’t come into this house if that’s what you’re looking for; Trigger warning for man with an avoidant attachment style; Condolences to all my fellow victims of The Situationship; Size Difference; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Oral Sex (F!Receiving); Frankly some pretty pathetic behavior; Girl stand UP; Fuckboy Din; Plan B and Delusion as a form of birth control; Pull and pray baby pull and pray; Possessive Behavior; Jealousy; Insecurity; Trigger warning for Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift references

A/N: Hello and welcome to my contribution to the holiday fic pool! This is not at all what I was planning as my holiday piece, but I woke up a few mornings ago and was just completely taken hold by this. Much love and thanks and gratitude and all the kisses in the world to my friend @f0rlornmyths for all the help on the idea and brainstorming and for the gorgeous edits she made for this little story. Mai baby, this is all for you, and I know it's not the Christmas gift I promised you, but I swear, one day that too will get written.

I’m wishing you all the happiest and most relaxing of holiday seasons. I think of you all constantly and wish you all the best always, and I hope you’re taking care of yourselves during this time ❣️🎄✨

Word Count: 8.2K

Read on AO3

He gets this sparkle in his eyes when the bar’s extra busy, cheeks flushed and curls damp with sweat and this shine that speaks; that tells of all the things he does that make a woman belong to him whenever he’s giving her his singular attention. Eyes that laugh and crinkle at the edges with happiness. Eyes that tell you how much he does or does not want you at that specific moment. And he’ll laugh and blind the room into seduction under the Christmas lights, and then he’ll turn, suddenly remembering you’re here for him, and look at you all serious-like, while you sip on your tequila soda, with two limes always because he knows that’s how you like it, and it’ll be a serious, cool look for just a second before it blooms into the best smile anyone’s surely ever had in all history, and you love him. 

It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this. You’ve never practiced restraint of this kind either. A restraint that suffocates and kills and could probably be taken as a form of self harm were you in a righter, more clear mind, but it’s the only thing you have left against him. Din. A control over yourself that falsely feeds you the illusion of power. You never call him. Never. Any interaction, any late night fuck, any time he comes over and comes inside you, it’s always, always because he calls you, he looks for you. You never beg, not with words at least, and you never text first and you never ask him if you can see him, and it’s the only way you tell yourself you maintain even a semblance of control. And at night, when you’re alone and it’s dark and you’ve only got the cat for some sad company, or you’re crying in bed because he hasn’t called, and you know he’s not at work and he’s obviously not at home, so he’s somewhere you don’t want him to be, that false sense of control that says you’re never the one reaching out, it’s always him coming around so surely that must mean something… it’s all you have at the end of it. 

He’s not your boyfriend. He never has been. And there’s always been that excuse you use to soothe yourself with of, well, we’ve never really talked about it, and he’s not really my boyfriend, so it doesn’t really matter. Does it? Doesn’t it? You’re sure you don’t know anymore. And you tell yourself, lie to yourself, comfort yourself, whatever it is your tired heart needs in that moment, because it truly is so tired, the push and pull is the most exhausting game in the world, that if he’s coming to you it’s because Din’s choosing you. Even if just for a night, even if just for now, even if tomorrow he’ll be with someone else, he chose you for tonight, and so surely that must mean something. It’s the worst thing you do to yourself, but it feels so good in the moment. You just can’t help yourself. 

“Another one?” He calls over his shoulder with a smile.

 You’d had a little bit of a… well, you don’t really know what to call it. A falling out, perhaps, because the two of you never have fights. You never fight, you never discuss the things the two of you should discuss, like feelings or anger or resentment or boundaries and wants and needs. Nothing. Nothing that indicates anything that might define what it is the two of you’ve been doing for two years with each other now. Fights are something couples do, and you two are not a couple. But up until three days ago, you’d not heard from him for two weeks. Two weeks of nothing, of hearing from your friends that they’d seen him out with his friends and other girls who you know probably mean nothing, even less than you do, but still. It’d made you insane. A little bit irrational, and so when you and your friends had gone out over the weekend, picked up a group of guys at the new bar you’d chosen for the night, since Din’s bar was off limits at the moment, and brought them back to your apartment at your roommate, Bo’s, insistence, well, you’d thought you’d give him a taste of his own medicine. After a slightly tipsy, teary eyed rant, explaining to your new friend for the night, a one Toro Calican, who had a very nice smile and very pretty eyes and not at all bad arms, all about your terrible situation with this man who you were not really in a relationship with, but who you have sex with, and only with him, regularly, unprotected, enthusiastically, but who is still not your boyfriend and not even anything close, he’d arranged himself very nice and cozy-looking in your bed with your twinkly lights sparkling in the background and your pink pig stuffy which Din loved to make fun of you for, and you’d taken a very tasteful, in your opinion, picture of him for your Instagram story. Again, a taste of his own medicine. 

Din had been at your front door forty five minutes later, angry. Angrier than you’d ever seen him before, and not at all trying to hide it. Pushing past you and into your apartment all tall and broad and wearing your favorite dark blue hoodie he knows you love, curls mused as if he’d been pulling his fingers through them in agitation. There’d been a sneaky, smarmy little devil inside of you doing a happy dance at that moment, and his eyes when he’d turned to glare at you after giving poor, Toro – casual, entirely unbothered, Toro with his big smile stretched across his handsome face as he’d looped an arm over Bo’s shoulders where he’d been sitting beside her on the couch – a look that said Din had half a mind to take him outside and wipe the floor with him. But your new friend had laughed him off, taking Din’s terribly cocky onceover, the sort he liked to set people down with, in stride. All arrogance and the sort of self assuredness only a man who knew what he was made of and how to take care of himself could possess. He was too hot for his, or your, own good. 

And when he’d turned and pushed you into your bedroom, a little tipsy, a lot desperate and pleased and wet, because yes, finally you were getting exactly what you wanted, exactly as you’d asked for it, and he’d flipped your skirt up and ripped your panties down and buried his face in your cunt from behind, all: this pussy’s mine, what the fuck was another dude doing in your bedroom? You’d been nothing but pleased giggles and hiccupy little moans as you’d come on his tongue just as he’d demanded of you. 

It was wrong. The two of you were wrong and maybe even bad for each other, but also, and this was only your own personal, fanciful discernment, addicted. A mutual addiction. The way he fucked you, hard and deep and possessive, like you belonged to him. Tugging you up by the hips and pulling you back onto his hard cock, the wet slap of your pussy dripping for him so that it surely echoed through the thin door of your shitty little apartment for the man who’d threatened what Din saw as rightfully his could hear exactly what was happening in here. You should have cared more about this ridiculous display of a pissing contest. You should have been bothered by it. You absolutely were not. And when he’d gone harder than stone, shoved deeper than you could comfortably take him so that you were coming around his cock one last time from the stretch and sting of it, and he’d filled you to leaking without even asking, you’d not even blinked at it, had been nothing but contented sighs.

It was all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Even worse, you’d never been on birth control. It made you sick, tired, moody, and the two of you worked around it… sometimes… kind of. Condoms when you remembered, usually ripped off mid fuck, pulling out… also sometimes. Never very responsible or dedicated to the practice of safe sex and level headedness, more focused on how fucking good it always felt when he was inside of you like this all bare and wet and hot and his. And if he fucked other girls, well, you tried not to think about that. Got tested, told yourself you were the only one he didn’t use protection with because you were special when they were not. And if there was, that last horribly misguided whisper that said, well, if he’s taking this risk with you, then obviously that means something too, right? Then so be it.

Again, like you’d said, bad for each other. 

But he always gave you so many reasons to be stupid, delusional, like the way he’d kissed you before he’d gone the morning after, while you were still sleepy and warm and a little sweaty from where you’d been pressed together so close through the night, wet and sticky between your legs from his come. He’d wrapped his arms around you and pressed you so, so close to his chest, nipples bare and tight against hard muscle and wispy hair. The musky sleep smell of him as he’d started at your shoulder, mouth slow and damp, kissed and nibbled his way up your collarbone, your throat, your jaw, settled at your ear to taste that soft place behind, pressed his tongue there to feel the echo of your pulse moving through your whole body, the flutter of his long lashes against your skin because he’s just that close. Your toes had curled and spasmed, little and cold, bracing against his hairy shins and big feet, hard cock nestled between the warmth of your thighs. And he always makes the best sounds, you know, deep and rumbly and all man. Familiar sounds that you’re able to replay again and again in your mind afterwards when he’s gone, sounds that make it easy for you to pretend he’s yours because you know them so well, and you want to keep him so bad it makes your stomach hurt. Gotta go get the kid, he’d said, by way of explanation for why he wasn’t pushing up into your come soaked cunt and having you one more time again, but he’d stayed and kissed you. And when he’d finally found his way to your mouth, sipping on you, tasting behind your teeth, along the wet of your tongue, that was all that really mattered anyway. 

Sometimes, he kisses you like he loves you, and it makes you hate him. 

He hadn’t called in the three days since then, but he’d been kind enough to DoorDash you a Plan B and a bag of your favorite Dove dark chocolate bites, and you want to hate him and maybe even run him over with you car, you really do, but then tonight, out of nowhere while you’d been at home telling yourself you weren’t going to cry, tired and sweaty from lying under your duvet for too long, fingers slippery between cunt and cotton, too many unsatisfying orgasms and a tear worthy film already chosen as your excuse for later, he’d sent a: come to the bar tonight, baby, I want to see you. And well, he’d come looking for you, right? He’d texted first. So really, this was all him wanting you and choosing you.

You need help, electroshock therapy, a lobotomy, anything. But you’d gotten your butt up and dressed, begged Bo to come out with you, and now here the two of you sit, good friend that she is, waiting for him to finally come over and say more than three stringed together words to you. Shaved, lotioned, perfumed, pathetic little ass sitting at the end of his bar in a too sticky, too uncomfortable stool waiting for him. Always waiting for him.

You shake your head no at him and his proffered next round. No you don’t want another fucking drink. What you want is his attention. 

And the worst part is, probably the worst, for there are so many bad parts to this, is that you don’t truly think he’s a terrible person, Din. He’s just so… he’s just– you don’t know. Sad, busy, exhausted, selfish, overwhelmed, so many things. But not bad, not actually a bad person. You’re sure of it. And it might look so differently from the outside, like you’re nothing, like he uses you, and sure, in ways, he does. You’re not so stupid or naive to not see this for what it is, because if there is one thing that is crystal clear here, it’s that you’ve always known what this is and what it is not. But you also see him. You also know him, as hard as he’s tried to keep you at arms length, to not let you see, to not let you in, you’ve weaseled your way inside anyways, or, better said, and something you don’t let yourself dwell on too much for the things it makes your stupid brain and heart feel, he has never been very good at not letting you see him. Because despite all the truths of how this thing between the two of you is, or is not, there is also something, as small as it may be, that is real here. 

So no, Din is not bad, or not all bad. And it’s easy to call them excuses, but you’re not so sure that’s the only thing they are, the ways in which you justify his behavior or yours. Because there is also context to him, and his life, and the things that drag his attention away from you when you so desperately need and want it, why you know he won’t commit to one single thing because he knows how easily lost a good thing can be. 

You take a pull from your straw, paper, and it’s already coming apart in wet flakes on your tongue because this dumb bar he works at pretends to be swanky, and paper straws are obviously a signifier that it’s not the cheap, shitty dump it actually is. Mean, but you’re in a bad mood tonight. Peli, the owner, had him string up multicolored lights and decorations everywhere for the holiday season, and it sort of looks like Santa threw up in here, but it’s also nice. Cozy or comfortable or welcoming, something happy and cheerful about the crowd surrounded by the sparkle of the holiday and loose from the heavily poured liquor. Or maybe it’s just that you know he put up the decorations. That he’d been good and patient and helpful as the older woman, eccentric and curly haired and a little stern and potty mouthed as she is, but always kind to him, had directed him as she pleased. Giving orders so that the bar could look as lovely and warm and cheerful as it does now. He always looks at her with such care and warmth, and you alway see it, as much as he tries to hide it. 

He’d added a splash of sweet grenadine and a maraschino cherry into your drink tonight, and called it your slutty Shirley Temple, said you looked like you needed something sweet followed by one of those cocky little winks he thinks make him look hot, they do, but you tell him only make him look like an asshole. All of which you know is only his way of telling you, without actually telling you, that he’s going to be shoving his cock down your throat later tonight. Something sweet… yeah, sure. There’s nothing sweet about him. 

He always tells you so many things neither of you want the other to know with his eyes. The stupid things, the silly things, the real things, it doesn’t really matter. He can’t ever help it. 

The first time he’d told you about his parents, you’d thought: this is it, this is something real. The come down had been a singular type of devastating you don't think you’d recovered from to this day. They’d died in a home invasion, a robbery gone terribly, terribly wrong, when he’d been two months shy of eighteen; left him with too much responsibility and too much grief for a boy of seventeen to bear, to ever be able to grow into without growing a little bit skewed in the process. When he’d introduced you to his little brother, the first time, you’d been better prepared, better in control of yourself and your expectations. But still, still you’d let a small, small part of you let it mean something. Grogu, Greg, but they used to watch this cartoon together about this man, a warrior, a space cowboy of sorts, who finds a little green baby, more frog looking than baby looking, called Grogu and takes him in as his own, bringing him along on all his adventures through the big, wide galaxy. They’d always joked that Greg looked like the frog baby, and so, Grogu. 

The first time he’d asked you to come over, you’d forced yourself to not throw up as you’d seen the text come in, had to force away thoughts of this has to mean something, please, please, let this mean something more. And the kid had been asleep already anyways when he’d smuggled you inside, quick and quiet, locking the door to his bedroom behind you, messy and lived in and Din, Din, Din everywhere, pressed you into his rumpled mattress, and fucked you til you’d cried and bit your tongue until you’d tasted blood to keep in all the things you had inside to tell him. And in the morning, when he’d made you a cup of coffee and oh, isn’t he nice for that? The kid had stumbled out of his bedroom, dinosaur pj’s and sleep rumpled curls the same warm mahogany shade as his older brother’s turned pseudo father, and he’d had his waffles while you’d sat there between the two of them as Din’d clucked around making lunches, sipping from your mug trying as best you could to be a good girl and not whip around and scream at the man that this has to mean something more, please. 

The kid had eyed you skeptically, as if you’d had two heads, little fuzzy brow cocked high up towards his curl covered hairline while he chomped loudly on his waffles. More syrup than bread, but who were you to judge? 

“Are you Din’s girlfriend?”

And rather than drop dead on the spot or bear the devastation of hearing the refusal come out of his older brother’s mouth, the second you’d seen Din’s own eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, mouth falling open to probably tell him no, absolutely not, she’s nothing even close to being my girlfriend, you’d said as easy as you could manage, “No, we’re just friends.” Even added in a fake, tepid smile as you’d said the words. And now, as time’s passed since then, when you think back on the memory, you tell yourself that you’d imagined the frown and scowl that’d pulled Din’s face down into something that looked a little like annoyance or anger or confusion. He’d never done anything to make you think you were anything otherwise, and so what good did it do to dwell on the maybe false memory of his look of disappointment at your words? None at all, surely. 

But you’re pretty sure you’re the only girl that’s ever been let into their space like that.

He’s at the other end of the bar now, engrossed in a conversation with someone who’s too sparkly and too pretty and too blonde to be anything but trouble for you. His tall, deceptively lanky form that you know beneath the dark baggy, long sleeved tee he’s wearing is strong and muscled and warm as a furnace, curved over the lip of the bar to lean further towards her. They’ve been talking for about five minutes now, yes, you’ve been counting, and your heart is doing that horrible thing it does where it hurts so bad it feels like it’s ripping in half all on its own. You want to look away, especially as you watch the long, gorgeous form of his hand, big, strong hands that you know exactly what they feel like wrapped around your throat, clutching your breasts, lift slowly towards the glowing Christmas lights necklace the girl’s got hanging around her neck, the cheery red and green lights nestled deep in her cleavage. He plucks at the necklace, giving it a little tug and says something to her that has her throwing her head back, and she sparkles, she really does, with those sort of laughs that tinkle like bells or something equally fucking ridiculous.

“We should just go, babe,” Bo says from beside you, glaring down at him so intensely you’re shocked he hasn’t keeled over dead at this point. 

“Just a little bit longer, Bo, please.” 

“God, I can’t watch this shit anymore.” She pushes up and out of her stool with a roll of her eyes, but passes a loving hand down the back of your hair as she goes. “I’m gonna go try and pick up that red head sitting in the back. She’s been eyeing me all night,” she smirks at you. 

“You cannot date another ginger. That is too much ginger for one household.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re in love with the devil, I can do whatever I want. And I can’t watch him anymore, I don’t have the stomach for it.”

You try and protest as she walks away from you, tell her that you’re not in love with him, that he’s not the devil, that you don’t have the stomach for it either, but she’s gone before you can muster your lies. When you turn back towards the bar he’s abandoned his Christmas lights blonde and is pouring drinks for a group of frat guys, checking I.D.s and making easy, charming conversation. He’s strange in that way, quiet and reserved by nature, which you know now because you know him, but he puts on a face in here, in Peli’s bar in front of the customers and the pretty girls and the people expecting him to perform for them, making nice and pleasant. It’s just one more thing that feeds your delusion, the fact that you see his smile for what it is, the too handsome, too shiny version you know isn’t the real one. 

You know that despite the fact that Bo loves you, she also thinks you’re a little sad, a lot weak, when it comes to him. Maybe even, and you know she’d never say this because she’s a good and loving friend, but maybe even a little pathetic or desperate. And maybe you are, or definitely, you don’t really care about the details of it at this point, but maybe there’s also something about him that’s slightly desperate too. Desperate for love or attention or companionship. Maybe that’s why he always feels the need to search for it in so many different places. Maybe he wants it so bad he’s scared of it. Or maybe he’s just easy. Maybe he’s just a whore. 

You don’t know if the why’s of it all really matter anymore. 

He serves the group their shots and beers, all of them clinking their glasses together loudly, hooting and wishing each other a Merry Christmas, and you want to snap that it’s not Christmas yet, it’s still the twenty third, it’s a special day that should be remembered, but you turn away. Try to swallow the heat in your face and throat, take deep breaths. Bo’s right, the two of you should go, but when you turn to search for her, she’s deep in conversation with the red head, gorgeous, strong and tall and just her type. Their two heads huddled closely together beneath the red lights that turn their hair both brighter shades of auburn. And you know you can’t interrupt. At least one of you should have a good night tonight. But when you turn back around, ready to join the frat bros in on their shots, he’s there. 

You swivel in your stool, catching yourself on the lip of the bar, digging your nails into the wood grain until it hurts, staring at him in silence. 

“What?” he asks with that slightly provoking smile he forces on you when he knows you’re bothered and refuse to open your stubborn mouth and just speak up. 

“Nothing.” Stubborn, sullen. Terrible.

He hums, laughter dancing in his eyes that pisses you off. He knows you’re bothered, knows you won’t say anything about it either. “Want another?”

“Sure.” You might as well get drunk if you’re going to have to watch him be a jackass all night long. 

He starts to move about, gathering the things for your cocktail. “You like the grenadine I added?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

He looks at you with a half smile and a cocked brow as he measures the shot. He never makes your drinks as heavy handed as the others, says you’re a bad drunk. Whatever. “Yeah? You like the Christmas decorations?”

“They’re nice.” He hums again at your sullen tone. And you want to be nicer, happier, peppier, whatever it is that would be enough to make this all right and better between the two of you, inside of you, but you just can’t. You can’t force yourself into a shape that’s okay with being without him, and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend it’s something you’re capable of. 

He adds your two limes and tops the drink off with a Santa printed mini umbrella Peli had gotten an order of in bulk, pushing the glass into your hand. He braces his hands against the bar edge, watching you as you bring the drink up to taste, peering over the edge to keep your eyes on him. The lights twinkle over head, washing him in a glow of greens and reds and warmth, and his eyes do that terrible sparkle you hate in return. 

Sometimes you think he likes it when you’re pissy. Turns him on or something which sickly, stupidly, in turn, riles you up, knowing he’s turned on by your anger. 

You take a long pull of the fizzy, mildly sweet drink, licking your lips of the tang and bubbles when you pull it away, and watch as his eyes go a little hazy, glassed over as he watches the wet of your tongue peek out to lick up the drops of sweet liquor. You watch a swallow pass through the strong column of his throat, and his gaze is still on your mouth when he cocks his head at you. “C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes shifting to take in the crowd, the customers and the status of their drinks before he’s tugging at your hand over the bar, drawing you out of your seat and along the length of it from the other side. 

“To where?” You whisper at him, nerves of excitement, of want, fluttering in your belly and throat all fizzy and sweet. He tips his chin at the cracked open door of the stock room, the warm glow from within peering out, and then back again once over at the crowd before you’re at the end of the bar, and he’s tugging you inside after him. You tip your chin over your shoulder just before he kicks the door shut behind you, taking in Peli’s knowing look and the laughing shake of her head, and then it’s just the two of you. Hungry and hurried as he’s pulling you into himself, big hands immediately cupping your ass to tug you up into him with a cracked groan. “Want to fucking kiss you so bad,” he licks into your mouth, tasting like the coffee he drinks too much of and the cinnamon gum you know he’s always chewing. 

“Din–” and you’re about to protest, say that everyone’ll have seen the two of you come in here, Peli, the blonde Christmas light girl, that the whole bar is going to think he brought you in here for a quick fuck, but you and he both know you don’t really care if anyone thinks that. That probably, if you’re really honest, you’d be glad for everyone to think you’re his that way. So you kiss him back. Arms looping around his neck to hang off of him, fingers twining in the thick curls at the nape of his neck, the hair there so silky smooth, cool at the ends but warm and damp at the roots. And this is what you were talking about, when he kisses you like he loves you which makes you hate him. All tongue and teeth and desperation. His mouth sliding against yours, spit slick and heat heavy. Big hands kneading at your ass, clutching at the short skirt of your dress, pulling it up so he can shove his palm between the nylon of your tights and your warm skin and cup you over the wet mound of your cunt. 

“Fucking warm and soft for me, baby.” He kisses his way down your neck, licking at your cleavage, tugging at your ear. “You smell so good,” and he squeezes you against himself, dragging his palm back and forth over your pussy as best as the constricting tights let him. “I can’t wait to fuck you later.”

“Me either, Din,” you say because there’s nothing else to say besides, I love you. Please, love me back. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back into a little arc hooked over his arm, something frenzied and a little sloppy about the way he kisses you like he wants you so much he can’t control himself. And when the two of you stumble out a few minutes later, hair tousled and flushed with heat, the shine of your lipgloss transferred onto his own lips and those sparkly eyes of his cranked up to blinding so that the whole bar can see what it is the two of you have been up to in the stock room, there’s nothing but sweet, fizzy pleasure suffusing your belly. Even if it isn’t real, everyone else thinks it is, maybe for tonight that can be enough. 

-

“The tree’s really cute,” you say as he helps you out of your coat, unwrapping the scarf from around your neck, round and round until he lets it slither from his hand onto the messy floor of his bedroom. 

“Yeah, well, G wanted a real one so… my ass went out and got him a real one.” 

You reach up to card your fingers through the floppy curls falling over his forehead, pushing them back to twist in your fingers and pull his head down towards yours. “Good brother,” you murmur against his mouth. You want to ask him if he remembers what tonight is; wanted to ask him all night but kept your mouth shut for fear of that utterly vacant look in his eyes when he’d have no idea what you were talking about. 

He settles into your kiss, knees bent to come down to your level, sighing deep and long as he licks at you slowly, sucks on your bottom lips, a gentle nip. “Looked so pretty for me tonight,” he says, and he’s such a good kisser, and all you can say is a breathless thank you, trying to swallow the immediate lump in your throat back down because the only other thing to say would be you’re right, it’s all for you, or I hate it when you say these things to me, I hate it when you’re nice to me and then turn around and act like I’m a stranger, like I’ve never meant anything to you at all. You press up higher, insistent, on your tiptoes, trying to get closer, more of him. He runs his hands up the length of your spine, one arm banding around your waist, the other coming up to twist in your hair, tugging your head back sharply and pulling your mouth from his. 

“What do you want, sweet girl?”

And what a cruel, terrible question. You, is what you should say. Ruin the moment or the false magic, glass shattered on the white cloth. And so, “Fuck me,” is all you say instead because that’s all this is anyway. He peers down at you, fathomless look on his face, no more bright sparkle in his eyes, something more like an ember. You think you like this look better, it’s more for you, and there's something satisfying about that. 

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

He pulls your clothes from you slowly, and he can be so tender sometimes, slow and precise in the things he does, the way he moves. Sometimes he fucks you hard and fast and sloppy. But not always. Other times he does it in a way that is much, much worse. Slow and deep and intentional. He lays you out across his messy bed and spreads you open for himself. Starts at your feet, kissing the soles and the creases and marks over the arches and around your ankles from your tights and boots. Up the slope of your calf, teeth dragging sharply, a little too hard over the muscle. He kisses the backs of your knees, a place only he has ever thought to kiss, and you won’t cry, but you’d like to. His tongue along the soft of your thighs, stubble chafing and tickling, and when he finally gets to your cunt, soaking wet, glossy with your slick for him, his tongue drags up your slit slow and teasing one second, deep, fucking inside of you the next. He makes you come on his face twice before he even thinks of being nice and letting up. Sucking on your clit, taking each soft lip gentle, gentle between the edge of his teeth and tugging so soft you almost don’t feel it. He licks and licks and slurps up your wet, and you know he enjoys this because of his own sounds. When he rips his t-shirt over his head because he’s steaming with sweat and want, the zip of his jeans ringing so that he can get his fist around his cock and jack himself while he licks up the splash of your second orgasm. 

He kisses you everywhere when he’s had his fill, twists and turns you this way and that, groping and kneading and taking every inch of you in so that no spot of skin is left uninspected or untasted. Pulls you up and under his arm so he can peer down at you from behind, lemme look at that little asshole now, he says all nasty the way he gets sometimes, and spreads your cheeks apart. You brace yourself against the column of his throat and hold on to the bulge of his bicep and try and breathe through your mouth and pray for control and temperance and the will to not spill all your truths to him. Difficult, when he manhandles you like this, when he pets and licks and kisses you all over and tells you how pretty all your holes are for him. 

His cock is so hard when he finally settles on his knees between your spread thighs, on your back again so that you can see his pulse in the tiny, subtle beat of his erection as it stands up, curving towards his flat belly. No condom, and you want to say thank you for letting you feel him like this. 

He pushes your knees wide and grips his cock, twisting his fist around the sticky glossed head, flushed red almost purple. You love it when he’s this hard, when you know it’s all for you, when you know you’re the only one in this moment that can fix it for him. 

“Get it wet for me,” he nods his head at your slick cunt, parted and bared to him just like he likes. You dip your fingers into the well of wetness, play in it, watch the shiny string of slick stretch between your pussy and fingers, and no one makes you as wet or as desperate as he does, and like he can read your mind he tells you, no one makes me as hard as you do, and you do not tell him that that isn’t something you want to hear, that that isn’t something that makes you feel good. The reminder that there are others. 

You wrap your slippery fingers around his cock, coating him in yourself and when you pull him towards you, notching him at the mouth of your cunt, and finally – finally, I’ve been waiting for this all night, and you can’t even tell who says it – it’s so fucking good that all the rest of it is worth it for this singular feeling right here. 

He pushes in, in, in, heavy balls pressed against the wet curve of your bottom, and you’re so soaked it’s slid down between your ass, marked his sheets with you, swings his hips back all smooth and wet and shoves back inside. His mouth is at your tits, folded over you, caging you in, biting and sucking on bare, tight nipples he tells you belong to him, cunt he fucks hard and deep he tells you also belongs to him.

He pulls an ankle up over his shoulder, changes the angle and drills into you hard and fast, other knee hooked over his elbow so you’re pressed and folded and presented to him just how he likes and needs, and he makes you say his name over and over, tells you exactly how he wants you to come on his cock just for him. His pelvis bumps your clit on every push forward, too thick cock wedged inside your cunt so that you’re stretched around him and no matter how many times you do this, it always hurts just a little. Like everything else the two of you do together. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans. “You take it so fucking good. Don’t come yet– don’t come. With me– wait for me. I want it together.” And you do cry at that, when he changes the angle once more and shoves in hard against your g-spot, the fat tip of his cock punching against it over and over so that there’s heat pooling at the base of your spine, stars flashing behind your closed lids, your breasts going hot and heavy and tight, stomach clenching with the effort to stave off your orgasm and do as he asks. He breathes into your mouth, and it’s all hot and damp skin and your sweaty limbs sliding against each other, open mouth to open mouth. 

“Now,” he says, pulls you onto him deeper with a tight grip on your ass, long fingers wrapped over the curve so that he can feel the wet, stretched place where he takes you, makes you his. “Take the whole fucking thing,” he whispers against your lips, and as your cunt goes tight as a knot, painful in that way that only he can make it, that’s so good, that way that always keeps you coming back for more, you finally start to cry real tears. Not just from his cock but from the whole of him, from everything he does to you. Your heart beats fast, fast, fast, and you count the days in the month til your period, the little game you like to play with yourself when the two of you are bad like this, and then decide you don’t really give a fuck as he starts to fill you with the heat of his come.

He stays inside of you for too long after the last throb of his cock. Rubbing his lips all over your neck and shoulders and tits, tasting you and giving you too much time to memorize the pattern and cadence of his breathing. And when he pulls out and pulls back to look at the slick, puffy sight of your cunt full of his come, he bends to lick you clean like he always does. Gives you one more orgasm, the last nail in the coffin or your heart. 

Sated and spent, you glance at the clock, and it’s officially Christmas Eve. You know he goes all out for Grogu, milk and cookies for Santa, stockings and gifts, the works. He is an exceptionally good brother, all a child could need in a father figure, and there had never really been any chance of you doing anything else besides loving him. 

When you pull the gift from your bag, heart in your throat and halfway to regret but more resolve than you’ve ever had in his presence, you tell yourself that if this brings on the end of everything, that you’ll find a way to be okay with it. If you’ve gone too far, done too much, you’ll accept it, count your losses, and what great losses they’ll surely be, but you’ll move on as best you can. 

You’d picked some pretty, baby blue paper with little red robins on it, a soft gold ribbon tied around the package. The sight of it makes you want to cry. You’d tried so hard, you really had. 

He’s quiet when you put it into his hands, staring down at it like it’ll reach out and bite his head off if he blinks even once. Swallowing several times before he says, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know. It’s– it’s for the both of you, kind of.” Him and his little brother.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“No– that’s okay. I know. You didn’t have to.” Your voice comes out all breathless and full of nerves. You should’ve put your clothes on before you did this, made for a quicker, easier get away if necessary. 

He pulls the wrapping apart slowly, gently untying your ribbon, long fingers carefully picking at the little pieces of tape at each end so that he doesn’t tear the paper and disturb the robins. 

“Where did you get this?” He says when he’s finally unwrapped it, his voice telling you instantly that you’ve made a terrible mistake. 

“It– it was in your drawer. I–”

“You went through my stuff?” He says, eyes snapping up to yours, finally looking away from the photograph you’d copied and framed for him. A picture of him and Grogu and his parents. Grogu, a baby, Din, a boy of maybe eight, gap toothed, cheesy grin and messy curls between his smiling parents. They looked, very much, like a deliriously happy family, and you’d thought it such a shame it was stuffed in his sock drawer when you’d found it, left to be forgotten. You’d only wanted to do something nice for him. 

“N–no. I mean… not intentionally. I was looking for my extra clothes – the ones you told me to leave here – and I–” your lashes flutter, overwhelmed. He suddenly looks so angry. “I saw it in your drawer. I didn’t mean– I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I–” You don’t know what to say. All of your falsely held control in tatters at your feet and tears in your eyes as you take in the horrible look on his face. Shocked, angry, hurt, but his gaze leaves the photograph again, shifts back to your face at the crack in your voice. 

He presses forward, as if to reach for you, realizing you’re about to cry. “It’s fine.” I’m sorry, Din, you murmur again. “It’s just–” He shakes his head, a frustrated noise in his throat, his voice all graveled and cracked like yours. He seems so much like a boy in this moment. A child confronted by a past he was too young to lose when he did, forced into the shape of a man too soon. “You know that this–we–” He motions between the two of you.

“Yes. I do,” you cut him off quickly. Assuming what he’s going to cut down here between the two of you before he gets the words out. He doesn’t need to say it, not out loud. He doesn’t need to be that cruel. The strength it takes the both of you to bite your tongues in that moment, as you take each other in, swells to a near painful pressure, and there is something so sick here between the two of you. His eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him. 

“Thank you,” he finally says quietly, and you can’t answer, looking away out at the dark night through his murky paneled window. It looks like it’s about to snow, all the ingredients for a perfect Christmas at play. The room is so warm and his bed is so comfortable, and you feel so full of fragile and soft things inside. “You’re going to see your family tomorrow?” He still has the picture frame in his hands, fingers smoothing methodically over the edges, thumb swiping gently over the happy faces inside. 

You clear your throat, “Yeah, tonight. I’m going to my parents house, spending the night there.” And it’s on the tip of your tongue to invite the both of them to come too. You know your parents would love to have them, you would love to have them there, him, but the words stick in your throat with the fear of his rejection, and the two of you fizzle awkwardly into a heavy silence. 

You look out at the window again, too much of a coward to look into those bright eyes, but you can feel his gaze on you, singing the side of your face, and suddenly you feel him scoot over towards you. Deep sigh, dragging the duvet with him, wrapped around his bare shoulders all messy hair and flushed cheeks still steaming from your sex. No one should look like he does. No one. It’s the most unfair thing that’s ever happened to you in your whole life. He grips you around the bend of your bare knee, pulls you halfway into his lap, and your eyes are still fixated out on the night, the dark much safer than anything that lives inside this room.

“You remember when we met?” He says. The tears are back. “It was tonight.” Two years ago.

You tip your chin at the window. “At the restaurant…”

“...Down on eighty seventh street. Two years ago.”

“Yes.” You finally look at him. “I remember,” you whisper. Your mouth feels so dry, your heart so flinty.  

“The place had all those string lights put up, and we sat at that table outside in the back behind that group having their Christmas work party. You remember?” Of course you do. You only can't believe he remembers. He’d been wearing an olive green half zip sweater, and he’d smelled of laundry detergent and whiskey and cinnamon gum when he’d kissed you for the first time. 

“I had the best old fashioned I’ve ever had at that place. We should go back. And it was so cold, you remember? You never stopped shivering.”

“Yes, Din. I remember.”

“That was a good night.”

“Sure it was,” and it comes out with a bite you can’t help, for so many reasons you can and cannot explain. 

He gives one of those non committal hums he loves to provoke you with, that little glint back in his eyes. “Sure it was? What?”

“Nothing.”

“Is there something you wanna talk about?” The white elephant in the room, come to ruin everything, shatter all the glass, disturb the dust in your hair and break your heart. 

He tips your head back by your chin, two fingers holding you there, never letting you go. You shake your head at him caught up in his grasp like that. “No. I don’t want to talk about anything.”

And he gives you the strangest look, and for one second you wonder suddenly if that look you’ve always taken as provoking is not so much teasing, but more pleading, more knowing. “No…” he says, chews on his thoughts, strong, scruffy jaw with the heart shaped patch moving side to side. “I know you don’t,” and leans forward to press one single soft, chaste kiss to your open mouth. “You know what you are?” He says then, and the look is now entirely unknowable, confusing. 

Your eyes flick back to the window. “What?” Back to him again, breathless. 

“You’re my girl.” And out of the corner of your eye, you can see that there, finally, is the Christmas snow.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[stvckwithaphobia]

— ROOMMATE. [han jisung] 🗝

content/warning. han jisung x female reader — roommates — perv jisung — rough sex — unprotected penetrative sex (don’t do this) — smut/pwp — dom/sub dynamics — kinda innocence kink and hints of free use — slight dumbification — reader gets called doll, good girl, slut and whore

word count. 0.7k

note. so deeply sorry I was so inactive again… but thank you for all the support nonetheless. my life has been a little rough lately, but I hope this time I will be back for real ❣️

important. minors do not interact, this is 18+ content — none of the characters are supposed to imitate real people, any coincidences with names and places are just for the sake of fiction — if you enjoy this content pls consider leaving a comment or reblogging this!

—

He feels horrible. Captured inside a moral dilemma all over again.

That’s what it’s been like these past weeks—due to your insomnia, your roommate allows you to sleep in his bed with him. Jisung knows it’s easier for you this way, having someone to protect you from nightmares.

The act of yours is so incredibly innocent—completely opposite to Jisung’s thoughts running on his mind.

But, luckily, tonight everything changes when he hears you moan his name so softly in your sleep. Well. Jisung thinks you are asleep but in reality you are just trying to get a reaction out of him.

And, oh god, once he realises you have been playing with him, it’s as if a switch flips inside him—bringing out his most evil desires.

You don’t know how many hours it’s been. Your brain is foggy from the sensation of your roommate’s thick cock pounding into your wetness. He’s filling you so deliciously, the bulge pretty much visible in the position he has captured you.

His hand is seizing around your throat. He adds just enough pressure as you enjoy while you are busy trying to not completely lose your mind yet. But with the way he is staring at you—dark gaze of those deep brown eyes fixated on your fucked out face and that mischevious smirk provoking you even more—it’s nearly impossible to stay sane for any longer.

“I knew it,” he lets out between thrusts. “You pretend to be all innocent, baby, just for me to snap and take you as I please, hm?”

Oh, how much you do. You’d allow him anything at this point—toss you around with his strong arms, manhandle you in a position he knows is best for you. After all, Jisung hasn’t been super aware of the tiny details about your sexual interests for nothing. That pervy bastard made sure to keep track of all your likings.

Checking your search history on adult content, reading some chapters of those steamy romance books on your shelf and sometimes hearing your soft voice spilling from your lips when you brought some male guest over—just for him to listen to it and cum in his own fist.

But now he’s finally got you under his spell. Absolutely helpless underneath him—as you allow him to rail you into oblivion. Your thighs or more so your whole body will for sure be sore tomorrow.

“Tell me, how does it feel having your tight cunt stuffed with my cock, my pretty little slut?”

“S-so g-good, Sungi… so g-good,” you giggle. By now you are more than far gone, allowing your roommate to take care of your body in the most sensual way possible.

You’ve lost count how many times he has brought you to that sweet relief tonight. Jisung seems to grow liking in overstimulating you, slowly manipulating your brain to only reach your nth orgasm with his permission. Of course, by demanding you to always either keep your eyes on his or call out his name or both.

But it feels so good, so overwhelming—the way your own juices are spilling out of you, right before he rams his length into your aching hole again. Deeper. Faster. 

“I knew it all along, doll. You’re just a needy whore for my cock, patiently waiting for me to fuck you as I like, hm?”

You let out a muffled babble then, followed by a high pitched moan and something Jisung makes out to be a combination of ‘more’, ‘harder’ and some syllables that sound like his name.

“Please– need all of your–“

He knows exactly what you need. And Jisung is willing to give you all of it—but for now he is not done with teasing you yet. Not after all the teasing you have been putting him in throughout this night and even before.

The little flirtatious jokes you’ve been making, the wandering around in your tightest shorts in the apartment in order to get a reaction out of him—the both of you are more similar than expected, the potential of being a little pervy for each other there from the beginning.

“Yeah, keep begging like this for me, doll, and maybe I’ll fill you with my cum. But prove to me first that you’re a good girl. You get that?”

You are definitely in for a long night and desperately wish this isn’t a one time thing—Jisung is undoubtedly ruining you for anyone else…

—

© stvckwithaphobia 2022 — don’t copy, translate or edit my work

[ultraacherries]

❣️ - Jude Bellingham

this is a short tiny smut !!!! sorry i havent posted in a while uni is kicking my ass :((

"thats it baby fuck me like that, youre doing so good" he groaned as his grip on your waist tighened with every movement of your hip. You had your hands on his chest looking down at him with a flush that burnt your face and glossy eyes so desperate for release. The praise he showered you in did nothing to sedate the pleasure that took over the entirety of your body.

" j-jude please can i cum" you stuttered as your pace was getting sloppy, his dick was hit places you didnt even know exist. He wasnt any better the way your pussy was gripping him made him closer to the edge but he wanted to drag it out a little, he liked it when you begged.

"you can do better than that love" his tone was teasing but from the breathless hint to it you could tell he was just as affected as you were.

" ill be a good girl jude i promise please can i cum" you were so drunk in the haze you couldnt find it in you to be ashamed you needed that sweet release that Jude can give you and he reveled in that.

He was feeling particularly nice today so he let you cum alll over his cock. He sat up and held you close to him allowing you to push your face into his neck, muffling the uncontrollable moans that left your lips. The way you squeezed and shook took his breath away.

" thats it baby let it out i got you" he voice was strained, you could tell he was at the edge. You pushed your head up, you loved watching Jude come undone it was ethereal and you wanted to witness it every time.

Although both of you were tired, Jude prioritised aftercare he loved to clean you up and pamper you telling you how good you were and how lucky he was to have you and for you it never got old you still blushed like the first time.

After he took care of you, you both got into bed basking in each others warmth until you both fell asleep.

[rubendiasthoughts]

Hey besties! Hope you like this little headcanon 🤭 Thank you to the person who requested this ❣️

Sending so much love to all of you ❤

Ruben Dias being obsessed with reader's boobs - headcanon:

- Okay, so I feel like he would be very obvious about the fact that he loves your boobs. Like can you imagine maybe when he comes home from training and he says hi to you he would first wrap you up in his arms and kiss your lips, but then he's leaning down and pressing kisses to the top of your breasts before asking you "how's my girl today?"

-I could totally see the two of you having a dinner and maybe he sits on the opposite side of the table and you are telling him about something that happened to you that day, but you realise he isn't even paying attention to you and he's just blatantly staring at your chest. And you're like "Ruben, my face is up here" and he looks up at you, a smirk appears on his face and he goes "sorry, they just look so pretty, couldn't help myself" 🤭

-He would definitely be the type to take naps on your boobs. Especially if he had a bad day or something. I just see him coming back home and finding you laying on your bed, just looking through your phone and you can see something is wrong so you ask him what happened. And he would probably tell you he just had a hard day and you're like "what can I do for you baby?" and he goes "nothing, just stay like that" as he lays his head on one of your breasts, and then cups the other with his hand and he just closes his eyes, looking so content and comfy. And then he just sleeps, maybe you're gently scratching his scalp with your nails and he's just letting out these little hums.

- I feel like whenever you wear a low cut top he wouldn't be able to help himself but stare and he would tell you how pretty you look in that particular top and how it's his favourite and you should wear it more often. Or maybe if you are just doing something around the house and not wearing a bra, just a shirt I feel like he would go crazy (and especially if it's one of his shirts). Can you imagine him coming up to you from behind, wrapping one of his arms around you, while the other hand goes under the material of the shirt you're wearing and he squeezes your boob in his palm??!

- He would definitely cup one of your breasts in his palm sometimes when he's spooning you, and maybe even give it a little squeeze.

- He would 100% be sucking on them, biting them and kissing them whenever you are riding him. They are just right there in front of him, so he definitely wouldn't be able to resist. Maybe sometimes he would leave hickeys on them too. But also he would love to just stare at your tits when you're on top, watching them bounce.

-But also he would also suck and kiss on them before he fucks you as a part of foreplay. Can you imagine him hovering over you and he starts planting kisses from your neck and takes them down to the valley between your breasts and then takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tounge around it and then he gives the same attention to your other boob. And when he pulls away he would look up at you, thinking to himself how pretty you look, your head thrown back with a flushed face.

-Can you imagine if you were giving him head and he's like "take your top off for me, sweet girl" because he just wants to be able to see your tits. And he would so praise you, when you do take it off, saying things like "that's a good girl, you look so pretty".

-He would for sure love to cum on them and he would smear it around using his fingers and then he would bring them up to your mouth telling you to clean up your mess and suck his fingers clean. He would definitely love it if you let him take a picture of your breasts covered in his cum 🤭

-And he would so want to fuck your tits. Maybe you would be sitting on your knees on the edge of the bed as he stands in front of it. And he would say something like "push them together for me angel, just like that" and then he would slide his cock between them. And you would be looking up at him, his head thrown back, grunts leaving his mouth. And the things he would say to you!! Maybe something like "you are so good to me baby, so good" or he would just call you his good girl 🤭

[fictionallyinparadise]

Not to be gay on main but...........f/o body hair goobd

[pacifymebby]

Hope u r doing okay ❣️

Which of the peaky men would make the best fathers do you think?

ahhh you caught me at a broody moment bestie so

I think of all the Peaky men Bonnie and John would make the best fathers, they both strike me as family orientated, "fun" dads. They're definitely both very into keeping you pregnant haha, but I will get into that later, here are some quick little HCs about the men as dads <3

Tommy

🌿 "Over Protective Dad"

🌿 He's the serious type of dad, the one with lots of rules, the one who definitely means it when he says "Behave, or else." He's very strict and the children definitely know not to cross him, sometimes you worry that he's too stern... and so does Tommy.

🌿 Because he adores his children, he's so proud of them and he has so much love for them, they're his proof that good things can really exist in this very bitter and twisted world... he just isn't always good at showing that love because the more you love something the more it hurts to lose that thing...

🌿 So he's terrified, every single second of every single day, that he's going to lose his little ones, that one way or another they'll be ripped away from him.

🌿 Thats why he has all these rules, and why he's so determined to see them kept to. Because he doesn't want something bad to happen to his children as a result of his "negligence"

🌿 He's also petrified that he'll be the reason their lives are ruined, he's scared he'll drive them away... a fear which is naturally made worse by his cold exterior and his struggle to be close with his family. He's always putting a distance between himself and the ones he loves, and it traps him in a mean cycle.

🌿 The kind of parent thats always trying to hide the worlds badness from his children, he wants them to stay innocent and care free for as long as possible so he wraps them in cotton wool and won't ever want them to do anything which could risk an unhappy ending.

🌿 That being said he rarely "lets" them win at games.

🌿 He gets very paranoid about their friends, the kind of parent that needs to know his children's friends parents before he lets the kids out of his sight. He worries when they're out after school, even more so if he has daughters.

🌿 Will hate his daughters boyfriends, will try his best to intimidate them.

🌿 His children will grow up resenting him for being controlling but in the end they will understand why he raised them the way he did because,

🌿 Ultimately Tommy is a devoted father figure, he's nurturing to the best of his ability. Nothing will hit harder than a "dad hug" when the kids are upset. He's sentimental as fuck so will make sure he is at every big event in the kids lives, he'll be the one taking photos.

🌿 Will never fail to tell his children he is proud of them. Sometimes it's a little scary when he tells them he loves them because he feels the emotion quite intensely.

🌿 Has killed for his children at least once, is determined they'll never find out.

Arthur

🍂 "Overwhelmed Dad"

🍂 Is absolutely desperate to be a good, hands on father but oh my god is it difficult! Theres so much to remember, so many things which need to be done all at once... He's the father who always has food stains on his shirt, the one who is always at least fifteen minutes late, running down the street with the kids to try and get them into school on time... He forgets stuff all the time, sends the kids to school without a packed lunch or dinner money and has to go running back with it.

🍂 He is very awkward at first because he's paranoid that he will be too rough, hold the baby too tightly, that he's going to hurt them. But he is just so full of love and adoration and even when they're very small his children will sense that love and feel happy whenever daddy is near.

🍂 His children are his sun stars and universe. They're his reason to heal and carry on living despite all the pain he often feels inside. They're his hope.

🍂 Always self conscious that he's being too loud or too rough, he's always swearing then apologising for swearing in front of them. "Son your fathers a very naughty man eh, you shouldn't try to copy him yeah?"

🍂 "fook" is probably one of your babies first words despite all of his efforts. His brothers think that this is completely hilarious but Arthur feels so bad about it.

🍂 He doesn't want his children to grow up to be anything like him, he can't see any of the good that you see in him, only the bad so he's always worrying that his kids will have inherited "the bad seed"

🍂 It isn't true however, where Arthur sees himself as over emotional/ unpredictable with violent mood swings, you see him as a passionate man with real feelings. You see him as someone who needs nurture and care. You're always trying to remind him that his "flaws" make him a more empathetic person, that he'll much better be able to understand his children because of his own life experiences.

🍂 A really defensive father, if his kids get into trouble at school for anything he will be 100% on his kids side, if they were scrapping then the other kid definitely started the fight and deserved it, if they were back chatting a teacher then "what the fuck are you doin eh? You're an adult and you can't stand up to a fucking six year old? Thats mad..."

🍂 You're constantly having to apologise to the school on his behalf but on the plus side your kids aren't ever getting bullied.

🍂 If you have daughters they will definitely be doing their best to keep boyfriends a secret... This is perhaps not really necessary though because ultimately Arthur is a desperately loving father who would do anything to make his kids happy... so your daughters don't need to worry about a thing, as long as their boyfriend intends to marry them and care for them until the end of his days.

John

🌼 "Still a Kid Dad"

🌼 He's the "fun" parent, the soft one that the kids know to ask for extra play time or sweets. They know they can get away with bloody murder when it comes to their dad. If they're boys he's going to be impressed when they manage to weasel their way out of trouble and if they're girls all they have to do is pull those adorable puppy eyes and they will definitely get what they want.

🌼 Absolutely spoils the kids rotten! Basically he lives to see his children smiling and to hear them laughing so he will do whatever he thinks is going to earn him hugs and smiles.

🌼 A real criminal when it comes to feeding the kids things like rice pudding, chocolate pudding "one for you, one for daddy, little scoop for you, big spoon for daddy..."

🌼 Always helping them get up to know good. Teaches them naughty rhymes and then daring them to sing them in front of you so that you're permanently horrified.

🌼 They make him behave like a big kid so he's always playing stupid imaginary games, playing cowboys with them, playing tig, always starting food fights with them any excuse to play fight and tickle them... Any excuse to pick the littlens up and squeeze them in a big hug.

🌼 So many Dad jokes just waiting to be dropped it's like a disease, he just can't stop making the worst jokes you've ever heard and yet his kids think he's hilarious.

🌼 Can, very rarely, but sometimes be serious, but it's only when something very serious has happened such as if he thinks the family is under threat or the children are in danger. It's so rare to see daddy serious that the kids always do as he says in these situations, it's like they can just sense that play time is over.

🌼 Absolutely adoring, falls asleep with the baby on his chest all the time, never wants to put the littlens down. Smothers them in kisses.

🌼 Whenever its your birthday he will gather all the littlens up to try and bake mummy's birthday cake, it will be messy, it will be bordering on a catastrophe, the kids and him will be covered in flour, sugar, cake mix, chocolate, the lot. But it will be the best thing you've ever eaten.

🌼 Perhaps the reason John is the way he is is that he didn't get much of a childhood himself, his own father let him down astronomically when he was a lad and so he's determined that his children are going to have as much fun as possible. He hates seeing them sad, doesn't ever want them to feel let down. So even though you do sometimes get very fed up with always being the "strict" parent you can understand why John is as laidback with he kids as he is. It's because he's trying so hard to give them everything he never had.

🌼 Look he's lowkey addicted to being a dad, wants to have so many children with you, can't keep his hands off you... He will always always be telling you what a good mother you are, how beautiful you look when you're pregnant, how proud he is of you, always talking to you about how together you've made a gorgeous family. Whenever you're holding one of the little ones, or whenever you're playing with the children he'll tell you how much motherhood suits you.

Alfie

🐻 "Grumpy Daddy"

🐻 Wasn't ever really expecting to be a father, wasn't ever really expecting to be a husband either to be honest but well, here he is and he can't say he isn't happy with his lot in life. When he finds out you're pregnant he is stunned, but he's determined to be a good father...

🐻 Always grumbling affectionately about parenthood, if his kids ask for help he'll put on a big song and dance of huffing and puffing and "oh I suppose I have to don't I I suppose I can't say no to my little angel..."

🐻 There is absolutely nothing this man will not whinge about, if theres a birthday party he has to take them to, if its the school run, other children's parents, helping with snack time, helping with homework, reading the bedtime story, carrying the kids when their legs get too tired... He will make a big song and dance all "woe is me the exhausted, overworked father, he never gets a minute to himself, never any peace and quiet, always bending over backwards for his family and what thanks does he get eh? What thanks exactly do I get in return for all this?"

🐻 Usually by the end of these speeches his little ones are giggling and you're affectionately rolling your eyes... Usually a kiss on the cheek is all the thanks he really needs to shut him up. And he's never being serious anyway, he actually really loves being a dad, its much nicer being at home with the family, playing the hero rather than the villain as he does at the bakery and in his dealings with Tommy Shelby.

🐻 Makes up the bedtime stories, they always go on and on and on, with the strangest characters.... Often he will ramble on and lose himself all "and then the princess yeah, the beautiful, mesmerising, heavenly princess in the tower... who looks a lot like you now I come to think of it my little cherub... the princess right, she looks down at the prince and she says, oi, mate... you touch my hair again yeah and I'll chop your head off and kick it like a football all the way to Timbuktu..." "Daddy!" your little one will gasp, giggling and fighting him, "a princess wouldn't say that!" "Well you see this princess would right my little angel cause this Princess yeah, she's a feminist ain't she..."

🐻 Honestly he'd be such a soft father to a little girl, he'd spoil her rotten and she'd be the princess of Camden town. Nothing would ever be good enough for his little cherub.

🐻 Would make a point of turning up on the first day of school so that everyone would know who his kids father is, so that they'd know not to mess with them - teachers included.

🐻 Much like Tommy however he is very overprotective, he has lots of rules as a result of him always worrying about his children. He knows the absolute pits the world can sink to, he knows how dangerous it is out there and therefore he will constantly be werriting about the safety of his children, about who they're friends with, where they hang out. He will run background checks on all their friends. He will send Ollie out spying on them.

🐻 He's the kind of dad who won't forget about Mum, he'll see how tired you are and want to dote on you too. He'll definitely be the first to try and hush the kids so that mummy can have a nap, or he'll take them out to the market to pick out some presents for mummy. He's always reminding them how much their mummy loves them and everything that she does for them, always reminding them to make sure they tell their mother that they love her very much.

🐻 Big on manners. Won't ever swear in front of the children and he won't let them curse either. He also is always reminding them of their manners, will not raise rude children who don't say please and thank you or hold doors open for people.

🐻 Similar to Arthur, his children can never do any wrong, the only person who is going to tell his kids off his him, if a teacher wants to talk about his children's bad behaviour he's going to talk to the teacher about why they're failing as a role model.

Bonnie

🍀 "Nurturing Dad"

🍀 Family is the most important thing in this lads life. He is absolutely devoted to you and the children, he would do anything for you. He never misses anything, from birthdays to bath time, story time... anything, he doesn't want to miss a second of his children's lives.

🍀 He's very laidback, often very cheeky, always very quick to make you and the little ones laugh. Much like John he's the "fun" parent, he's always playing games with the children, loves to make them laugh with silly little slight of hand tricks (definitely overdoes the "coin from behind the ear" trick)

🍀 Will teach his kids boxing, will teach the girls to fight too if its what they want letting them punch his hands and try to take him out (if all the kids gang up on him at once they can wrestle him to the floor so that you have to save him... not that you always feel like it - "hmmm I don't know Bon, I think you might have been asking for it?"

🍀 His favourite thing to do is to gather all the little ones up into bed with you and him, all of you tucked under the covers for a bedtime story. He does the voices but he gets shy in front of you so he can't help but blush when he's doing the silly parts. Encourages the kids to join in and do the voices themselves.

🍀 Loves to teach the littlens things, practical skills like woodworking/ hunting/ how to make a fire or a shelter. Any excuse to take them out into the forest to build a den or go camping.

🍀 He's really traditional and would definitely want to raise the children with traditional traveller values, wants to raise them how he was raised however

🍀 He's ambitious and he doesn't want his children to grow up in the bordering on poverty that he grew up in so he will work so hard to give them anything they could ever desire. He doesn't exactly spoil them because he definitely teaches them the value of their work, but he'd never let his children go without. He never lets you go without either, even if he doesn't want to spoil the children he does want to spoil you, "you deserve it sweetheart, for being such a perfect mammy."

🍀 Wants to have a really big family and loves getting you pregnant. He loves taking care of you and being nurturing when you are pregnant and he loves doting on you and the children... One day when they're all grown up his empty nest syndrome will be worse than yours.

🍀 A really nurturing father, will teach his boys that it's alright to cry and express their emotions, will want to kill anyone who makes his little girls cry. Will teach his sons to look after and love their sisters. Will raise his kids to know that family comes first always. If one of his kids gets into trouble at school for fighting, but it turns out he was fighting to defend his sister, Bonnie will be really proud of them and much to the teachers despair, will tell them "you did the right thing, next time hit him twice, one from me eh?"

🍀 Will do his best to be friendly when his daughters bring boys home but he will need so much support from you, so many gentle reminders to "be nice" because thats his little girl and what if this lad isn't good enough, what if they hurt her or let her down or... You'll probably have to remind him that no matter what no ones going to replace her dad, he'll always be important to her.

Isaiah

🐀 "Cool Dad"

🐀 Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that he's going to mature into a decent father but, it's going to take some time and a lot of growing up.

🐀 I get slightly unreliable vibes from him. He won't take parenthood seriously at first, he'll have no idea how hard it is or how out of his depth he is... He'll definitely think that everyone else is exaggerating when they warn him how much of his life he's going to have to put into being a father... Fatherhood is going to hit him like a freight train.

🐀 He assumes he's going to be great at it because he assumes he's great at everything, but then he's overwhelmed by the long sleepless nights and how difficult it is to read a babies mind... So because he isn't immediately great at it it knocks his confidence a bit, he gets frustrated with himself and becomes convinced that he's "just not meant to be a father"

🐀 So this leads to arguments, naturally... because "you really should have thought about that before you knocked me up Isaiah!" You would start to doubt whether you could rely on him, whether he resents you and the children as a burden, whether he even wants to stay with you or whether he's going to leave...

🐀 When you argue about that fact and you come out with "well if you're so fucking unhappy why don't you just leave... if you're so convinced you're not meant to be a father we'll just have to get by without you won't we..." He'd be stunned by this outburst and genuinely have no idea where it's come from. Because he's stupid.

🐀 He'd be really taken back but forced to consider your words he'd start to realise that this is hard for both of you, that you're both doing something you've never done before, that the responsibility is new and tiring for you both... just because he thinks you're better at it than he is doesn't mean you're not also just making it up as you go along...

🐀 And your suggestion that he might want to leave you makes him realise just how much he could lose, makes him realise that he doesn't want to lose you or the little ones, that even if its hard he wants so badly to be a good man and father.

🐀 So then he'd start trying a lot harder, he'd stop expecting to get everything right the first time, he'd start trying to learn from you. Like I said, he's going to be a good father, but it's going to take time.

🐀 In awe of how good at mothering you are, doesn't understand how you can be soft and gentle and patient when the baby won't stop crying... He longs to develop that kind of patience but honestly, you have the patience of a saint and he knows he's never going to be as easy tempered as you.

🐀 He's a strange mixture of over protective and completely irresponsible, he takes the children with him to the pub, he lets them sip the foam from his beer to teach them that they won't like it. He will let them run riot at family gatherings.

🐀 Has definitely forgotten then baby and left them sleeping in their carrier under the table at the pub at least once.

🐀 However, the children are never allowed out of his sight, they can go to these places but only with him where he's there to look after them. His theory is that if he's so strict that his children never get to have any fun, they'll grow up wanting to break rules and do stupid dangerous things just for the sake of rebelling, so he's cool about it, he lets them drink when they're older so that they'll see theres nothing special about it, he'll let them hang around with the Blinders so that the mystery and glamour is taken out of it... whether this tactic works you'll have to wait and see, you're not entirely confident however...

🐀 He will be the kind of parent that speaks to his children like they're adults, they're going to learn swearing and sarcasm and back chat really young and its going to be a nightmare.

🐀 Will be suspicious of all boys who so much as look at his daughters because he was a teenage boy once and he knows what they're like. Whenever you remind him, "we were just as bad at that age..." he'll say "exactly and look where it got us, I'm not having some halfwit knock up my daughter!"

🐀 sometimes you think he says that just so you'll tell him that actually he makes a really good father.

Michael

☘️ "Perfectionist Dad"

☘️ Being a father is probably more important to Michael than you realise... Having been taken from his real family when he was very young, he feels there's a part of childhood which he was robbed of and he's determined to make sure his own children have the best childhood.

☘️ Because of this he has quite a few rules that he sets, he just wants his children to be safe and to not waste their potential... however he will occasionally be soft on these rules and let things slide if he thinks it's going to make the children and you happy.

☘️ He puts so much pressure on himself to be the perfect father. He will never express his doubts to you but he has such high expectations of himself and you can tell. Sometimes you have to give him a kiss on the cheek and remind him that as long as he's doing his best thats all that matters, that his children will love him even if he makes mistakes. That you think he's a really good father and wouldn't ever wish for anyone else to be the dad to your kids.

☘️Tries his best to be supportive, sometimes struggles to be patient because he's a logical thinker and you can't always solve baby's crying the way you can a maths problem. Imagine him trying to reason with a toddler who won't eat their rice pudding... "Look you might not appreciate this right now little one but this snack is highly nutritious, its an excellent source of protein and its got lots of calcium which is especially important for making you grow big and strong just like daddy... so even if you don't like it eh, better to eat it up..." "Michael he's two..." "I'm just explaining...." "T W O"

☘️ You wouldn't expect it of him, and it's definitely something he struggles with a little however he's always determined to be an affectionate and loving father. He definitely comes off as being too serious when he kisses his children on the forehead and tells them he loves them, but they always know they can come to him when they need a hug.

☘️ He's a really attentive father when it comes to things like waking up in the night if the kids have had a nightmare or something, he will let you get your much needed rest and he'll be the one to deal with all issues nocturnal. Can change a nappy in his sleep, can pretty much sleep walk between your bed and the kids bedroom to answer their crying in the night.

☘️Will spoil his daughters rotten and accidentally raise princessy types. Doesn't really see the problem however because he thinks they're perfect in every way and deserve the absolute best.

☘️ Just like Tommy he is determined they will keep their childhood and their innocence for as long as possible. He will do his best to keep his children away from the family business, he doesn't want them to know that their father is a criminal and he certainly doesn't want them to ever know of all the evil things him and his cousins have done in the past. As a result he tells his children a lot of lies, feels incredibly guilty for being dishonest, and then ends up telling even more lies anyway.

☘️ He absolutely doesn't want his girls anywhere near boys, especially not peaky boys. He doesn't even really like them getting to see their cousins at family gatherings, is always reminding them that they're not like their cousins, they're honest well behaved children, their cousins are wild and can't be trusted.

☘️ Will try to teach his children to be brave, will want them to be able to stand up for themselves. He's a man with childhood trauma and he wishes he'd had the "wits" to defend himself as a child so he wants his own children to be able to fight back. However, a key component of this is that he wants his children to be able to tell him anything and know that their dad will always be on their side, he doesn't want them to keep any secrets from him at all. Wants them to know he will never be angry at them and that it's always better to tell daddy everything.

☘️ If anyone ever threatens or hurts his children he will probably genuinely plot to kill them, have them killed.

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[erodasfishtacos]

Safe Space

prompt: follow up to demi piece for mlb!harry

warnings: insecurity, smut, minors dni 18+

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-

Harry isn’t trying to be dramatic when he says that he is officially and utterly obsessed with everything about YN.

He felt like he was addicted to her, from just being in the same space as her, and then from craving her body so much it hurt.

For a long period of his life, he didn’t understand the hype about sex - sure it sounded fine and orgasms definitely felt good but why did people care so much?

After his first time with YN, he very quickly realized what it was about because fuck, it was beyond the physical feeling of pleasure - it was how connected emotionally he felt to her and the display of love that sex was.

The issue was, they’d been intimate twice now with yesterday being their first time having sex, and both times he came prematurely.

No matter how kind and understanding YN was, it didn’t take away the deep insecurity of not being masculine enough or being a flop in the sheets.

YN had to use her own hand to help her along because he was coming so fast when they had sex, he was so far gone he hadn’t even thought about dipping his own hand down to assist.

Harry had to leave YN in his bed in the morning because he had to go to weight training and then right after a grueling practice.

He had left a little handwritten note on top of her cellphone to find when she woke up.

Good morning, baby. I’m off to practice. I love you x

It was simple but sweet.

When Harry’s in the locker room with his teammates as they all hits the showers and start to change after practice, well it’s no surprise sex is brought up - literally nothing has changed since high school.

He still didn’t feel the need to join in on the disgusting conversation, the way they talked about women was truly abysmal and some of them were referring to their own girlfriends in such crude ways.

Harry had so much respect for YN, so much undying appreciation for her body even though he just is beginning to learn it.

He would never talk about the intricacies of her form with other people, why would he want them to know what is only for him?

He didn’t want others to know how puffy her nipples get after he’s given them attention, how she gets so wet that it makes her folds glisten - that’s purely for his eyes and imagination only.

“Yeah, Becca told me that Cameron only lasted for three minutes,” Joseph cackles as the other boys join in on the laughter, “Said he jizzed nearly as soon as he stuck it in.”

“No wonder she turned him down when he asked her to the Sigma Phi party,” Payton crows with a boisterous laugh, “He’s never gonna get another date while he’s in school.”

Harry hates the anxiety that strikes in his chest because it hits him that they’re making fun of what he’s most self-conscious about right now.

He was new to everything, having YN’s hands, mouth, cunt was so mind blowingly euphoric and like nothing he’d ever experienced before that he couldn’t control how fast his orgasms snuck up on him.

The first time her lips wrapped around him, he couldn’t even think a conducive thought, let alone stave off his release.

The first time they had sex, she had to finish herself off because he came so fast that he didn’t even have time to focus on her.

His throat is tight as he rushes to get his clothes on, he didn’t want to lose YN - she was his person.

They only downfall of finally finding the love of his life was the immense fear of losing it because he knew this was once in a lifetime.

He was this allstar, cocky athlete who everyone drooled and daydreamed over - only YN knew he didn’t truly live up to his potential in the bedroom.

It’s not that he thinks she’s shallow enough to drop him over that but his anxiety and lack of self confidence had negative talk swirling through his head.

Harry wanted to be the best for her and he’s worried that he’s just not enough - it was the worst feeling on this earth and he hated that he didn’t feel confident in his own skin.

He’s out of the locker room without another glance at his teammates, putting his airpods in so he can act like he doesn’t hear all his classmates who try to say hi to him as he walks across campus.

His night class drags on, his fingers are fidgeting against the desk, knee bouncing because anxiety is one of the nastiest emotions to have.

Miss you already ☹️

The text pops across his screen towards the end of class, he has to tamper down the dopey grin that appears on his face - she must have just gotten out of her weekly newspaper meeting.

I miss you more. 😖

You’re the sweetest. Do you love me?

Harry has to bite the corner of his lip to tamper down his smile because he’s in a relationship, he loves her so much.

So much, baby.

I think you should totally invite me over tonight and show me how much. Just so I know you’re not all talk. 😛

Harry’s heart plummets back into his stomach, for what seems like the hundredth time lately because now he’s nervous about having to have sex despite how much he wants to.

Of course, he wants her to come over and he would have invited her in a minute anyways but now that the promise is lingering in her words, he’s struck with nerves.

He doesn’t respond fast enough because another text is coming through as his thumbs hesitate over the screen.

If you’re not up to it, that’s fine too.

And Harry never wants her to feel like he doesn’t want her there. It’s the exact opposite. He wants her there all the fucking time.

Don’t be silly. Of course, you’re welcome over anytime, my love. Meet me at Holden Hall in fifteen, we can walk back to mine together.

Okay ❤️

He’s not twelve, he shouldn’t get butterflies in his stomach but the thought of seeing her makes him squirm with excitement.

Because he is in love.

The class can’t end quick enough because even though there are always a few classmates who want to bullshit with him after class - Harry is bypassing them with a small smile and wave instead to get out the door.

YN is waiting on a bench, eyes on her phone until she must notice class letting up because her gaze rises and she has a breathtaking smile when she notices him.

It quickly turns downward when Harry is stopped by a group of girls, they’re giggly and overly nice as they compliment him on his recent game and how good he looked in ESPN College Edition this week.

Harry would usually give them all a cocky smile, dimples on display, and his shoulders broad as he let them coo over him.

Now he’s a taken man, he doesn’t have to act like he’s into all these girls he’s not anymore, and it’s so refreshing when he gives them a short ‘thank you’ and squeezes out of their circle.

Their eyes follow with annoyance and envy as they’re dismissed so quickly for Harry to make his way over to YN, where she’s sat on the bench in one of his baseball hoodies and a pair of leggings.

The girls begin to whisper furiously amongst themselves when Harry bends down, gripping YN’s chin, and kissing her softly for a moment before helping her up and taking her backpack to swing over his other shoulder before intertwining their hands.

YN seems surprised as they walk away, her hand squeezing his tightly as she ignores the daggers being glared into her back.

“What’s the look for?” Harry asks when they’re finally away from everyone spilling out of the lecture hall, and on the walk back to his frat house.

“I was just surprised you kissed me in front of all them,” YN shrugs, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal to her, “Most guys wouldn’t have done that in front of another group of pretty girls.”

It’s Harry’s turn to frown at that, stopping in his tracks to give her a look, “Why wouldn’t I kiss you in front of all them? You’re my person. I only want to kiss you. I don’t care what any of them think. I only care what you think.”

YN’s let’s a smile creep on her face, leaning up to kiss him for a long moment before she’s giving him a big hug and nuzzling her face into his chest.

“I love you. You’re just…” YN trails off, like she can’t find the right words, “You’re so good to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Harry can’t believe that. It feels opposite, he doesn’t know what he did to deserve her.

“You deserve the best and I’m going to always give it to you. I’m going to show you off to everybody all the time,” Harry promises as they begin to walk again, this time his arm around her shoulders pulling him into his chest.

The sex dilemma floats out of the forefront of his mind only for a little, only until they’re in his room, and Harry announces he needs to shower.

He was still sweaty, dirty from practice because on these days he doesn’t have time to shower before class.

When he drops their belongs near the door, he’s kicking of his shoes and telling YN, “Alright, gotta get cleaned up before we cuddle. M’gross.”

He fully expects YN to make herself comfortable on his bed while he cleans up and what he doesn’t expect is to YN to follow him to the bathroom - luckily, he had his own and didn’t have to share with his disgusting frat mates.

“Wh-What’s up?” Harry stutters as his cheeks flush, he hadn’t had anytime to figure out how he was going to solve his stamina problem and showering with his drop dead gorgeous girlfriend wasn’t going to help.

YN’s face twists in confusion as he stands frozen near the sink, “Uh, I was going to join you? If you don’t want me to, I don’t have to. I just thought that-“

He could tell he had embarrassed her by the way she’s trying to overexplain her reasoning to following him in there but Harry also knows that normal couples shower together all the time and if he was fucking normal - he wouldn’t be so surprised.

He wants to shower with her, fuck, of course he does.

Harry wants to scream and pull his hair because in his lack of self-confidence and anxiety - he’s making her feel bad about herself.

“No, no,” Harry interrupts her, bringing her into his chest, and kissing the top of her head, “Forgive me, darling. This, just all this is new to me. I’ve never showered with anyone before. I’m still getting used to actually being in a relationship.”

YN seems a bit relieved at his explanation, kissing his collarbone and rubbing at his back, “Still, if you don’t feel comfortable with me joining you that’s okay. Not all couples shower together. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Harry’s chest pangs because he just keeping mucking everything up, “No, I always want you with me. Please don’t second guess yourself, baby. Want you to shower with me. Want you with me every second of the day.”

YN nods against his chest but doesn’t make any move, like she’s nervous to be the first one, and so Harry does so first - stepping back to strip his shirt over his head before he’s slipping YN’s hoodie up and over her head.

He leans over to turn on the faucet to get the water warmed up, she’s standing there in just her bralette and leggings - god damn, she’s pretty.

Harry’s heart rate is going a million miles a minute as he shrugs the bralette over her head, her gorgeous tits bouncing out to where they naturally lay - perky but real and soft.

“Baby,” Harry huffs out in awe as he thumbs over her nipples - hard and puffy, they are making his mouth water, can’t help but duck down and wrap his lips around one as she whines happily.

She’s reaching for the waistband of his athletic shorts and briefs, pulling them both down in one go, and it’s not shocking he’s already plumped up and hard for her.

It was still a new experience, being bare and vulnerable in front of someone else - showing the innermost personal parts but he wanted her to see him, it made him feel good when she whispered how nice his cock was.

After he’s got her leggings and panties off, he’s bringing them under the stream of the shower, and watching in rapt amazement as the droplets slide down her neck, over the peaks of her breasts, and bead off her now soft nipples.

“Turn around,” She orders quietly, turning his shoulders until he’s facing towards the back of the tub, her hands come up with lathered shampoo and begin to scrub through his matted locks - her nails scratching against his scalp feel so good that he moans weakly.

She takes such care of him, his heart is melting for her as she washes out the suds before snagging his loofa off the shelves and beginning to wash down his body to wipe away all the dirt and sweat of the day.

It feels so amazing to be taken care of like this, he’s never had this before, and now that he does - he wants to cry because he’s just emotional.

When she’s finished with him, he takes it upon himself to return the favor, not because he feels obligated but because he wants to take care of her just as much and prove his worth as a partner.

“Ouch,” YN hisses when Harry’s fingers get tangled in a knot in her hair and pull it quite harshly, YN’s face contorting in a brief moment of pain.

“Fuck, m’sorry,” Harry apologizes instantly, he was on edge and he just kept making everything worse - he just pulled his girlfriend’s hair, “M’sorry, baby. Are you alright?”

YN rolls her eyes at him, stepping closer and flopping against his wet chest, kissing his skin, and nodding, “I’m fine. You don’t have to apologize. Just be careful.”

Harry’s hands are shaking with nerves as he carefully weaves through her locks, taking his time with the knots before he’s moving onto soaping her body up - he would have to buy scents she liked as everything in his shower was more masculine scented like sandalwood and sage.

After gently running the loofa over her tits and belly, Harry dips downwards but she’s moving his hand away from her center and down her thighs.

“No scented products near the goods,” YN tells him as she wipes a stray hair off his forehead, “It will throw off my PH. I just use unscented soap for that.”

And once again, he feels like a fucking idiot and like he should have known that about female anatomy but he didn’t.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, inhaling through his mouth because he feels like such a twat today.

YN doesn’t notice, her eyes shut as she lets the water pound down on her skin, and humming happily as he washes down her legs, hand playing with his sodden curls.

They dry off and Harry grabs YN a tee shirt of his from a baseball camp because he loves seeing her in his stuff - it settled his possessive side.

YN uses his hairdryer to dry her hair until it’s nearly dry, just damp on the ends, and she crawls onto his bed, forgoing dressing in her shirt and underwear.

And Harry doesn’t know what to do because he wants to crawl over top of her, kiss her, and push inside where he knows she’s hot and ready for him but he also knows he was just in the shower for half and hour naked with her and he’ll come too soon.

“Er, what do you want to watch?” Harry asks instead, standing in his tight briefs near his desk with the remote - clicking through Netflix.

YN who’s got a confused look on her face doesn’t say anything at first, she’s literally splayed out on her boyfriends bed bare as the day she was born, and he hadn’t even acknowledged it.

“I was thinking about Bake-Off? We haven’t finished the season yet,” Harry swallowed nervously, eyes glued to the screen and not at her.

YN visibly deflates out of the corner of her eye, her shoulders slumping and she reaches for her top to shove quickly over her head before tugging on her underwear.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” YN responds without the enthusiasm she had a few minutes ago, Harry realizes for the second time that night he’s embarrassed her - he just turned down her blatant invitation.

Harry hates this.

YN is perfect, doing everything perfect, and he can’t get a fucking grip on himself.

He needs a second.

“I’m going to go make us some popcorn,” Harry excuses himself, tugging on a pair of shorts as he exits the room.

A few minutes later, with a bowl of popcorn and some water bottles, he enters his room again, frowning when he notices that YN had also tugged on a pair of his joggers.

“You cold? I can close the window,” Harry offers as he sets the food down and YN looks down at her hands, avoiding eye contact.

“No, m’fine,” She responds, her tone is unsure like he’s never really heard it, “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I figured I’d cover myself up.”

Harry shakes his head, angry at himself as he mutters, “Fuck.”

YN glances up at him with wide eyes as she watches him pace for a moment before he’s stepping over to her, kneeling down in front of the bed, and putting his hands on her thighs.

“It’s not you. You never make me uncomfortable, baby,” Harry reassures her, he feels tears start to prick his eyes as he hangs his head, “I just keep fucking this up.”

“You’re not fucking anything up, Harry,” YN replies softly, her hands coming to rub at his shoulders, “What do you mean?”

Harry sniffles pathetically, refusing to look up, “I wanted to jump your bones the second you were naked on my bed. I wanted you in the shower with me before you even offered but I’m making you feel like I’m not into you and I’m sorry.”

YN titters, thumbing over his warm ears, “I don’t think you’re not into me. I feel like I’m not reading you correctly and I feel bad.”

“No, no, baby,” Harry refutes, kissing her belly, “You’re reading me right. I want you. Every part of you. I just…I’m really doubting myself and I don’t feel like a good boyfriend.”

“But why?” YN presses, finally forcing his chin up until his watery eyes are meeting her concerned, honeyed one’s.

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” He mumbles but lets her press sweet kisses over his forehead and temples as he struggles.

“Never going to laugh about something serious, if you want us to have a healthy relationship we have to work through whatever is bothering you,” YN encourages, cupping his hands and moving her lips to kiss all over them as well.

“I was in the locker room today and they’re were fuckin’ around and making fun of some guy who…doesn’t last long. It made me anxious because I haven’t been and I don’t want you to get annoyed with me because I’m not good in bed,” Harry’s gone teary again, YN is quick to wipe them with her thumb and a knowing, calm smile decorates her face.

“Baby, that’s why you’ve been so skittish?” YN shakes her head with a small giggle, leaning down to kiss him once more.

“Said you weren’t gonna laugh at me,” Harry grumpily reminds her, nudging her cheek with his nose before pulling back.

“Didn’t realize you were worried about something absurd,” YN tries to tamper down her grin, “You’re worried that I’m not enjoying myself when we had sex?”

“You had to finish yourself off,” Harry points out as a weak reason to his defense.

YN raises an eyebrow, “Okay, at the end? But the reason I was even close enough to get myself off was because I was so turned on and you were making me feel so good.”

Harry didn’t think of it like that, he blinks at her like he wants her to keep talking, and so she does, gripping his hands firmly.

“The two times we’ve done it, they’ve literally been the best experiences I’ve ever had sexually,” YN rubs at the bridge of her nose, “I told you no guy has ever made me come before even when I was helping myself along.”

Harry takes in that information, a sense of pride swelling in his chest, and twitch in his thin shorts at the praise.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, brushing his lips against her clothed shoulder, “M’sorry I’ve been being such a dickhead.”

“You just need to communicate. I understand this is all new to you. It’s new to me too. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in love with the person I’m having sex with,” YN admits as her body gravitates closer to him and her legs spread for him to wriggle in between.

“And I’m going to be the only one who gets you like this. Always gonna be in love with everything about you. You’re my person,” Harry reassured her, the nerves melting away because he feels so fucking safe with her.

The stage fright, the nasty quells of insecurity dissipate, and are fully replaced desire to please the gorgeous girl in front of him.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you needed to cover-up. I actually think we should probably do a no clothes policy in my room from here on out,” Harry rasps, his tone getting lower with the more arousal swirling in his tummy.

YN giggles kittenishly and it goes straight to his center, “Oh really? When did that become a rule?”

“Right about now,” Harry growls impatiently, tugging off her bottoms and panties in one rough yank before he’s lifting her thighs over his shoulders and making himself at home between them, “Fuck. How do you always taste so good, pet?”

“I-oh fuck, Harry,” YN whines loudly as her legs try to squeeze around his ears, he was so fucking dedicated when he went at it - licking, kissing, sucking every bit of her mound and what lay inside.

“Always want this,” Harry murmurs before lapping consistently at her slit while he thumbs at her clit - it was all coming naturally to him now.

“Yes, there. Yes,” YN encourage breathlessly when he finds the perfect rhythm that  has her back arching of the mattress and legs restless against his shoulders.

The encouragement just spurs him on to thrust his tongue into her perfect, velvet core as his thumb doesn’t stop the motion.

Her hips speed up to ride down onto his tongue as she nears her orgasm, Harry reaches up to flip her shirt up to reach and knead at one of her tits, pinching at the nipple.

That small burst of pain tends to do the trip because she’s squeezing on his tongue, clit throbbing against his thumb as she tries to muffle her mewls as she comes down.

“In me, want you in me,” She orders brattily, pulling Harry up by his biceps and dragging him on top of her, she’s bossy as she grips him around the base and leads him straight to where she needs him.

“Fuck, fuck baby,” Harry moans as he’s overwhelmed with pure fucking euphoria, his hips starting to fuck in automatically as his noises echo off the walls.

“S’good, you make me so full,” YN whimpers as her lips brush against his on every odd thrust, “Love being full of you.”

“Darling,” Harry scolds between a groan, the dirty talk did not help his stamina and fuck, her mewling about how full she felt just made it worse because he’s giving a few more weak thrusts before he’s coming as well.

“Mm, thank you,” YN hums as she pulls him up for another kiss, a spark in her core when she tastes herself, “See, practice makes perfect. We’ll get there.”

“Next time m’taping your mouth shut, who knew you spewed filth like a sailor?” Harry teases as he pulls at her bottom lip, “Made me come on the spot.”

“I don’t mind being gagged,” YN says nonchalantly and holy shit, Harry is in big trouble with this girl.

He fucking loves his person, his safe place.

[via-l0ve]

OMG UR MIKE SCHMIDT HCS ARE PERFECT!!!!!!!!! pls do a part two 🙏🙏

(btw can I be 😾 anon? )

Dating Mike Schmidt Hcs PT. 2!❣️

a/n: ABSOLUTELY!!! thank you sm 😾 anon <3 i love u! this also includes just some general head cannons of him because he’s my baby.

warnings: nothing :)

mike drinks coffee and energy drinks all the time

his favorite flavor of monster is the original or the Strawberry dreams

if you like monster (i’m an addict) he buys you one every time he buys one for himself

when he was working at freddy’s you’d patch him up if he ever got hurt :(

you teach him how to bake so he can teach Abby

You’re the only person Abby likes her brother to be with

she incorporates you into her drawings after a while of knowing you

mike is so happy when he sees you drawn in because his sister’s approval means a lot to him even if she’s only ten

it takes a while for mike to open up to you

but when he does he kinda has to break it up into small bits

he’s surprised when you hug him and comfort him bc what no one’s ever done that before

his love language is most definitely words of affirmation and physical touch

mike is so stressed with his work schedule so he can’t always be there physically but he always, without fail, every. day. sends you a good morning and good night text.

that might not seem like much but it’s everything to me okay!!!!

“hey baby, good morning :) i love you the most and i hope you have an amazing day. im on my way to work now but when i get out ill text you and when i get home ill give you lots of kisses. i love you.”

that’s so fucking cute

you guys have frequent date nights that just consist of laying on the couch or in his bed and watching a movie while he lays on your lap or on your chest

Abby usually interrupts because she “can’t sleep” but we all know it’s just because she wants to watch the movie

Mike secretly has a savings account for the two of you

he wants the best for you and when he can give you the world he will

but for right now he’ll pay for some stuff and give you kisses afterwards

he makes playlists that remind him of you

he loves to give you his clothes

or, if you don’t want those, he gives you blankets of his that smell like him

Mike notices the little things

like if you told him a story about your cousin and how they pissed you off

and then you brought them up again

he would remember the incident but he wouldn’t remember their name

“oh isn’t that the cousin who did all of that stuff to you?”

you guys have deep talks at 2am while he lays on your stomach and you comb through his hair with your fingers and you guys just talk and make out

his lips are soft but his hands aren’t

you definitely flirt with him all the time to make him blush

he hates feet

like everyone wears socks in his house or he will shoot his eyes out

he also hates canned corn

don’t ask me why i think this is just do

he’s scared of being alone

he also most definitely uses “:) :( :/ .-.” instead of actual emojis

he laughs at all of your jokes

even if they’re just not funny

he dosent want you to get sad lol

he’s always scared he’s not enough for you

he works a lot and he’s constantly tired and he makes minimum wage so it’s not like he can take you out to fancy dates or anything

he opens up about how he feels and when you tell him how much you adore your little mundane activities he gets all teary eyed and just hugs you so tight

:(((

he just wants to be the best version of himself for you

he adores you

off topic - he’s a lightweight when he drinks

he’ll stumble into the house drunk and just clinging onto you like a sloth

poor baby

he just deserves the world

[shinestarhwaa]

I’m hereeeee !!

Okay okay so you may or may not know my sub Mingi agenda, that man is so fekjshejejsjdjd

But but but, what if he were to get with a virgin ? I think the dynamic would be pretty interesting because it isn’t in his nature to be dominant but he wants to comfort and help you because it’s your first time :((

would it end with him guiding you in how to please him ? would it end with him on a service top wavelength ? I’ll leave that up to you ml <3

I've never written this before but I think this plot is interesting so here goes nothing-

NIRVANA || SONG MINGI

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Bf!Mingi x Male reader

Word Count: 0.9K

Warnings/tags: Dirty language, virginity loss, blowjob, handjob, fingering, anal protected sex, mingi has a bigass cock, mingi is actually a sub but will be a softdom for you bb <3, catch is he will still take dick in his ass even if he ain't a sub

@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86

Tell me if u wanna be added to my taglist ❣️

ENJOY!

You were nervous, so nervous your heart was pounding against your chest. You wondered if Mingi could hear it. You straddled him on his bed and you had just confessed to be a virgin.

"That's not a problem," he smiled, "I can show you how to do it."

Mingi pressed his lips on yours, softly moving them against you as he started unbottoning your shirt. His hands slid over your chest as he deepened the kiss.

You felt yourself getting weak at the knees, even while sitting, completely melting into Mingi's arms.

It didn't take long before both your pants and boxers were off, leaving you two in nothing but your unbuttoned shirt and his oversized hoodie.

Your cock stood proudly against your stomach, twitching at the anticipation of what would happen tonight. "I'll show you how a blowjob feels, hm? You deserve to get your dick sucked, baby."

He gestured you to sit at the edge of the bed, where you sat down as he got on his knees in front of you.

The way his eyes looked up at you as he took the tip of your cock in his mouth had you shuddering with anticipation. You had been waiting for this moment for too long.

Mingi lightly sucked on the tip, flicking his tongue around it. You whined softly, grabbing a handful of his hair when he lowered his mouth on you.

"O-oh god, M-Mingi!" You moaned out when his pace quickened. Mingi took it slow but the slurping noises leaving his mouth nearly made you reach Nirvana.

"F-fuck, just like that, t-that's so good Mingi!"

He made sure your eyes were focussed on him as he took care of your cock, palming your balls and massaging them to increase the stimulation.

His head bobbed up and down your cock quickly as he dug his nails in your thighs. You groaned as you felt the familiar warmth in your lower tummy.

"Mingi, oh God, I swear, I'm gonna cum if you don't sto-- Oh- oh- Oh god, god, yes, c-cumming!"

He pulled off your cock and pumped it quickly in his large hand, making you cum all over his face.

"Gosh," you panted out, "you're insane." Your boyfriend grinned as he swiped some cum off his face. "You're quite delicious, Y/N."

"Now, I'm gonna teach you how to finger me," Mingi said as he layed down on the bed, spreading his legs. Your eyes widened at his casualness. Mingi reached over to his nightstand to grab a bottle of lube.

"Come on, Y/N, I'm not waiting forever," he grinned. "How can I focus with this view?" You defended yourself as you crawled over to him.

Mingi squirts the lube on your fingers and some on his hole, biting his lip at the coldness.

"Okay, you can insert one finger." "Any finger?" Mingi rolled his eyes. "Use your middle finger, idiot." You laughed and carefully inserted your middle finger into his puckering hole.

"Now slowly... Don't go too crazy right away, go easy," Mingi gasped. He folded his legs up to his chest, giving you perfectly easy access.

You slowly moved your fingers in and out of him, deeper and deeper every time. Mingi whined when he felt your long, slender finger reach places he couldn't himself.

"N-now put in a second one, put it in baby," he moaned. You pushed a second finger into Mingi, picking up the pace. You felt a bump inside him and Mingi groaned and twitched at the feeling of you hitting it.

"Right, right there baby, do that again," he moaned. You smirked, gaining confidence and you entered a third finger, fucking him deeply, scissoring him open.

"God, yes, that's it baby, keep doing that!" He moaned out. "Right there, Mingi? Do you like that?" "O-oh I like it, I love it, fuck, oh~"

Your soul nearly projected from your body as Mingi started to moan louder, jerking off his own cock as you fucked him with your fingers.

He stopped when he felt himself get close. He pinned you down on the bed and licked a stripe up your neck with a big smirk. "Gonna ride you now, okay? Gonna bounce on your pretty cock."

Mingi positioned himself above you, sinking down on your length rising back up to bottom out. He repeated this a few times before completely taking your cock, sitting on you, adjusting to the stretch of his hole around your dick.

Your boyfriend started bouncing on your member, sounds of skin clapping together and whiny moans filling the room.

You closed your eyes, groaning at the feeling of Mingi's hole on your cock. "Keep your eyes open, for me. Watch me. Watch me bounce on your cock, look at me."

Looking straight into his eyes, you saw the pleasure taking over. He quickened his pace, cock twitching as it leaked with pre-cum.

He looked just adorable like this, even if he was a tall guy, the way he took your cock in his ass and the way his hands played with his dick made you lose your mind.

"I'm so close! Gonna fucking cum!" Mingi moaned loudly. "M-me too, Me too, baby!" You moaned when he picked up the pace. His hole clenched around your dick, sending you over the edge.

"Yes! Yes, pump your fucking seeds in me!" Mingi moaned as he came over your chest. When he was done he layed down on your chest, face right in his cum as your cum dribbled out of his ass.

"Y-you got it now?"

"Yeah I think I got the hang of it, time for round 2?"