#LOOK AT MY SPACE BABE IN THE BOTTOM MIDDLE

[chleem]

If it's casual now...

One shot; college students drew x reader

Summary: after five months of blurred lines and unspoken rules, everything unravels when you ask drew what you really are to him. suddenly, pretending it’s casual isn’t an option anymore.

Genre: angst (read at own caution; explicit languages + scenes

⋆.˚ dont copy or translate my work on any platforms

♡⸝⸝ phrase one | more

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“We need to talk.”

Your voice echoes through your dormitory, coming from Drew’s phone, the message you left from last night. 

It was the only thing you said, but you figured it would be enough to get him here. 

And it was. Drew showed up the way he always does-  unannounced, no text, no call, just the quiet click of your door unlocking and the soft thud of his shoes hitting the floor.

Like he belongs here. Like it’s his space.

Now, he’s standing across from you behind the kitchen counter, one hand wrapped lazily around a mug. His hoodie’s slung over your chair, his phone charging in the same outlet he always claims.

He hasn't said anything yet. Just looking at you expectedly with the piercing blue eyes of his. 

You’re dressed- ready for class, your bag prepared by the couch, adjusting your bracelet- everything about you says you’re leaving. 

He plays your voice message again. 

“We need to talk.”

You send him a look, “stop playing that.”

Drew sets his mug down; the soft clink of ceramic against the counter louder than it should be, “you look pretty.”

You give him a faint smile, reaching up to adjust your necklace.

“Where you going?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know your schedule by heart.

“Class,” you say, trying to keep your voice light despite the thudding in your ears.

Drew nods at your answer, biting down on his bottom lip. “Okay… you look pretty,” he repeats. 

Then, he moves.

He steps out from behind the counter, and in just a few strides, he’s standing beside you, close enough that you have to tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes.

You can feel the warmth coming off him. That clean scent he always carries-something between laundry soap and the hoodie he probably hasn’t washed in a while- settles in the space between you. 

He somehow also smells like sleep and mornings and whatever’s left of the cologne he put on yesterday.

“Thank you,” you whisper, glancing at him before turning toward the small bulletin board by your dorm door.

You search for your keys, among the clutter of class notes and reminders pinned there, trying to focus on something else.

You could feel his stare burn on the back of your head. 

“I have your keys, babe,” 

“…both of them?”

“Yeah,” Drew replies, before the sound of keys jiggling fills the room. 

You turn around to see him sitting on your counter stool, legs spread comfortably. 

He sets both keys on the countertop.

You walk back over, and without much thought, he scoots the chair closer, closing the space until you’re settled between his legs.

Your fingers close around your key, the one with your familiar keychain and you want to leave, escape his presence, but you’re right in the middle of it. 

He reaches over, his bicep brushing lightly against the side of your waist as he grabs his phone. You already know what he’s going to do.

The message plays again: “We need to talk.”

You chuckle softly under your breath, and when you glance up, Drew’s smiling gently at you.

“Yeah?” He says. 

You meant it last night- that you were going to talk to him. But now, with him standing so close, it feels harder to do.

He hooks his finger into your belt loops, tugging gently, pulling you just a little closer, his touch light but deliberate, as if he’s trying to coax the words from you.

“You’ve got my attention,” he adds, voice low and almost teasing, but there’s sincerity to it too.

Where to start? 

You turn to face him, and he takes the chance to rest his hands on your lower waist, his bracelet (the one you got him) brushing against the fabric.

You take a deep breath, fingers nervously fidgeting with your keychain, then finally meet his gaze.

“What are we, Drew?”

You won’t lie- what other people say has been creeping into your mind more than you want to admit. Your friends, who sneered and called you a loser for sticking around. The strangers who whispered, maybe a little too loudly, about how you’re just ‘the girl he bangs on his couch.’ 

Those words, sharp and careless, have been gnawing at you, making you question everything you have with Drew. 

Five months of casual talks, stolen touches, late-night kisses, meeting parents like it was nothing- it’s all there, but without a name, without a definition.

And then there’s Mike- your new friend, a first-year who confessed, asked you out. His honesty made you think about everything even more. The more you thought about it, the more restless you got. 

You couldn’t take it anymore.

He kept you like a secret, while you carried him like a promise.

It’s clear this simple question caught Drew off-guard, his eyes widening, pupils dilating a bit, and his mouth parts slightly- before he quickly fixes this smile. 

“What?” he chuckles, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your waist.

“What are we, Drew?” You ask again, patiently. 

He hesitates, then smiles, a little uneven. “Where- where is this coming from?” 

“I’m just…curious,” you look down at your keychain, fiddling with it nervously. Before you can think twice, Drew reaches out and takes it from your fingers, setting it gently on the table.

You look back up at him, catching the almost blank stare in his eyes. “Curious?”

“Yeah- I mean,” you shrug, pulling your sleeves down a little tighter. “It’s just… I don’t know. Don’t you…wonder?”

He lets out a light scoff, bringing a hand up to scratch behind his ear, a little awkward. “No... no, I don’t really,” he says, voice low but honest, eyes flickering away for a moment before meeting yours again.

“You… don’t?”

You wait for him to say more, but he just shrugs, a small, almost reluctant smile tugging at his lips.

“Maybe I just... like things the way they are,” he admits.

Of course he does.

Casual- no expectations, no labels, no accountability.

That’s what Drew likes; how casual you are- how casual he thinks you are.

But you aren’t. You’re nowhere near it.

Not when he’s met your friends, not when you’ve met his family, not when he kisses you like he means something. Like you mean something.

You blink, pulling in a quiet breath.

“So that’s what you wanted to talk about?” Drew smiles, and before you can answer, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your stomach, right over the fabric of your top- affectionate, familiar, automatic.

You can’t even help the frown that settles on your face.

You hesitate for a moment, your hand hovering, before you give in and thread your fingers through his hair, slow and gentle.

He exhales softly at your touch, his lashes fluttering briefly as he presses another kiss, higher this time, right over your ribcage. Still over the fabric, still tender.

“Drew?”

“Yeah?” 

“…we need to talk.”

“You sound just like the recording,” he teases, lips curving up as his hand lazily roams over your back.

But you don’t laugh, not even smile.

You shift back slightly, just enough for his touch to fall away, his hands slipping back to rest at your sides.

“What are we? Seriously,” you ask, letting out a breathy, uneasy laugh as you tuck your hair behind your ear. 

He swallows; his smile falters, and this time he scratches his forehead, “I don’t know- casual? No strings, no attachments- you know.”

No attachments. 

No strings. 

Casual. 

“We’re not, Drew. We’re not casual, at all,” you whisper, biting your lip and glancing away, because saying it out loud makes your chest tighten.

Drew stays quiet for a beat then finally asks, “Why now?”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head slightly, running a hand through his hair. “I mean... two days ago, you were sleeping on my arm until it went numb- ”

You cut in, voice low but firm, “that’s why, Drew. Does that sound casual to you?”

You couldn’t believe his next words. 

“Yes.”

“‘Yes’?” You look into those blue eyes of his, “do you casually fall asleep with strangers, Drew?”

“…you’re not a stranger.”

You lean in just a little, voice soft but steady. “Then what am I? What am I to you?”

The sapphire orbs dance between your eyes, your nose, your lips, “I don’t like this conversation,” he answers instead. 

You gulp, heart pounding, “me neither. But- just-“

“You mean a lot to me, y/n. Is that what you want to hear?” 

You nod slowly, biting your lip hard enough to taste the faint metallic tang of blood. Your gaze drops to the floor, unable to hold his eyes any longer; your arms wrapping around yourself instinctively.

You wait, just a beat longer to see if he’ll say anything else, if he’ll soften those words or try to explain. 

But he doesn’t. 

He stays close, and you find yourself chuckling softly at the tension between you. 

Trying to slip free, you move, but his legs brace yours in place, trapping you gently yet firmly. 

And so you stay, standing between Drew, who sits comfortably on the counter stool. 

“Hey- you okay?” He reaches up to cup your face, and you immediately flinch away.

“What do you think?” you snap, voice sharper than you intended.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused. 

“You don’t get it, do you, Drew?”

But you don’t give him the chance to answer. 

“You don’t meet someone’s parents when it’s casual,” you say softly. “You don’t leave your stuff here, or memorize my schedule, or- look at me the way you do- and call that ‘no strings.’”

He shifts in the stool, but you don’t look at him yet.

“You don’t- you don’t make love to someone…if it’s just casual.”

“Love?” he repeats. 

“Yeah, love,” your voice is barely above your whisper- even though the emotions are real, it feels weird confessing them. Meeting his gaze, you see doubt, maybe- crossing his features.

He leans back, and the corner of his lips lift up. 

“We fuck, y/n. I don’t- I don’t love you-“

Just when you thought it wouldn’t get worse. 

The words land cold, blunt, like a slap you never saw coming. You can’t believe they came out of his mouth- the same mouth that pressed against yours so deeply, lingering like it meant more. The mouth that whispered your name in the dark, the one that traced every inch of your skin like it was memorizing you.

“Then do you like me, at least?” 

“…you mean a lot to me, you know that.”

“It’s not the same thing, Drew-” you say, a sad smile tugging at your lips despite the hurt pooling in your eyes. “-you know that.”

He notices immediately- your smile, fragile and trembling, the way your eyes start to glisten with unshed tears. His confident, cocky facade flickers, and for a moment, vulnerability breaks through.

His brows knit together, a crease forming between them as if the weight of what you just said lands heavier than he expected. His jaw tightens, searching for the right words, but none come easily.

“Fuck- babe-“ His hand reaches up.

You flinch away, swallowing hard to hold back the tears. “Don’t- don’t touch me. Don’t call me that,”

A heavy pause settles.

And then, softly- but with finality- you say the words that will break it all apart.

“Let’s stop seeing each other, Drew.”

“…so that’s it? You get- you get a little in your feelings and suddenly we’re done?”

“‘A little’?” you echo, your voice cracking just slightly, more from disbelief than anger.

“Well, yeah, are you in a bad mood-“

You stare at him, stunned.

“I’ve been letting it slide for the past few months, Drew,” you say, “I’ve stayed quiet while everyone else talked about us- about me like I was a clingy bitch you couldn’t get rid of.”

He goes still- shame clouding behind those blue eyes. 

“And now you’re telling me it’s just me being a little in my feelings?” you whisper, voice trembling just enough to betray the hurt, “after everything?”

He stays silent- and for a moment, you let yourself hope that means something. That maybe the words finally hit. That maybe, just maybe, you’ve gotten through to him.

His eyes are still on you, unreadable now, but softer than before. The way they used to be when he was pulling you closer in the dark. The kind of softness that once felt safe.

But now? Now, it just feels late.

You draw in a shaky breath, arms still wrapped around yourself. “You like the way things are? Well, I hate it. I hate feeling like I was the only one who actually cared about this... whatever this was.”

“I care about this,” Drew says- too quick, too defensive.

You shake your head, voice quiet but sure, “No. You don’t-“

“I do, y/n. You-“

“You only care about yourself, Drew. So, stop pretending,” you murmur, and you immediately wipe away the tear that just slipped down your cheek, hoping he didn’t see it- but knowing he did. You force a small smile, and his shoulders immediately drop, his expression shifting to one of awe and devastation.

You feel wrong in your own space. Like an intruder in the scene of your own undoing. His scent still lingers in the air, faint cologne and worn cotton, and it turns your stomach. The room is still littered with traces of him; his hoodie slung over your chair, his books scattered around the place, even the beautiful roses he gifted you on Valentines. 

You felt so wrong in your own space. 

“I have class now, so I’ve got to go,” you say instead, ending the conversation by grabbing your keys and moving out of his way. 

“What? Now?”

“Yeah, I could be late,” you reply, not meeting his eyes as you reached for your bag on the couch.

You walk past him, focused only on the door, until his hand wraps firmly around your wrist.

It’s not rough, but it’s enough to stop you.

“Hey- hey, y/n, c’mon, I- ”

Slowly, you turn to face him. He’s standing close now, closer than he should be, his fingers still curled around your wrist like letting go might mean something final.

You watch his face carefully, trying to see if he’s about to say something real.

“I- I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry.”

You wished there was a mirror, so he could see how physically hard it looked for him to say those words. 

And that’s not what you wanted to hear.

Not really.

Because ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t answer anything.

“…are you, in love with me, y/n?”

The question hits you harder than anything he’s said tonight. It lands like a punch- not because it’s cruel, but because it’s unexpected. Because he asked it.

Your eyes snap to his, to those piercing blue eyes that have looked at you a thousand different ways but never quite like this, curious, cautious, maybe even scared.

“Would it change anything?” 

His breath hitches.

You see it- the realization settle in his eyes, slow and sudden all at once.

For a second, he doesn’t say anything; his lips part, then close again. 

The truth sits right there on his tongue, but he’s too scared to let it out.

Too scared to name it, too scared to lose you if he does, or maybe more scared of what it means if he says it and still loses you anyway.

Drew’s voice is barely above a whisper when he finally speaks.

“…I don’t know.”

And that’s worse than a no.

You nod, something in your chest sinking, not crashing, just… lowering. Settling into that numb space where hurt goes to hide.

“Um, then I guess you could take your time to get your stuff out of my room,” you say instead, your voice weak, walking over to the door to hurriedly put on your shoes.

You open the door and step out of your dorm, closing it gently behind you.

You stand there for a few beats, hoping, maybe waiting for him to call your name, to step out after you and say something that would change everything. 

But the silence stretches on, and the door’s still. 

Slowly, you start walking away, each step heavier than the last.

Then your hands lift, covering your face- pressing into your eyes, trying to stop what’s already happening.

You’re not even sure why you’re crying. 

Maybe because it’s finally over. Maybe because it never really started. Or maybe because, deep down, you let yourself believe- for just a second- that it could have been something more.

And now, there’s nothing left to do but sit with the ache of what it wasn’t.

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

word count: 2.8k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: i wrote this in a way that, even if you didn't read the other 'extras' or 'phase one', u could read this as a stand alone. this is for the ppl that love angst, i hope this is angsty enough (their argument is a softer kind of heartbreak- kinda calm before actual storm + i feel it fits into their characterizations)

and u have no idea how many times ive rewritten and reread bc this is not my best work im sorry

also, thank u for the 1.8k ppl that read my work! im so appreciative of it, im grateful that someone even reads it; let alone follow me. so thank u, im trying my best to produce the best for u <3

taglist: @maybankslover @rafeyswifey @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amb3rsaurus @bananaminn @rafecamerons-national-anthem @milky321 @drewnationalgf @iraslore @ursogorgeous13 @jamimers @hockeybabe87 @jqtsblyth @virgochaos @wolvestitches @dontblamethedrunkcaller @esposamultifandom @starkeysfile @rlalliehayes @pillowprincess4him @kravitzwhore @cokewithcameron

elevator | other | more casual!drew

[angelsforthenight]

take care of me…

ellie williams x fem! reader

cw: mdni, modern AU, sub! ellie, dom! reader, loser!ellie, established relationship, use of vibrator, cunnilingus, slight degrading, overstimulation, bush! ellie 🤑, begging, crying, cursing, sub-space, aftercare + some fluff at the end :3

WHAT IS SUB-SPACE? sub-space is an altered state of consciousness that can happen during BDSM play. typically it’s when the bottom gets all high and floaty. subs in subspace may have a higher pain tolerance, have difficulty speaking, and lose all sense of time.

“nn—nnhhh… i can’t— i can’t, y/n, please.” ellie gasps out, on the cusp of release. she feels too much, too overwhelmed by the plethora of different sensations. grabbing your hair for some sort of anchor, her jaw falls slack: pathetic whines and pleasured sobs tumbling from her lips as they melt against the loud humming of the vibrator nudged against her clit. and your mouth only keeps moving.

hold on, run that back. wanna know how you got here?

“babe, i’m not even kidding, i think i ripped out a tastebud.” ellie’s been complaining about this for the entire day, but doing nothing about it. to be frank, it’s been pissing you off a little. ellie could just as well get up and take a look in the mirror for herself, but for some reason she insists on you checking it out.

this isn’t the first time you’ve had to play doctor. don’t get it twisted, it’s cute! having to take care of your girlfriend is a gift you want to keep safe in an enclosed haven. but only when something has actually happened.

when false alarms happen one too many times, it’s only natural you get at least a little annoyed, and you’re very positive that this moment is another one of that case, yet you never seem to get enough. you set the book you were reading down, sitting up on your bed.

“let me see.” you sigh, placing your fingers on her chin, tilting her head up. ellie sticks her tongue out and to no surprise at all, there’s nothing.

“you’re kidding me, right?”

“what? no! i just hurt my tongue so bad trying to shred the guitar!” ellie says defensively.

“well then you’re stupid.” you laugh, “who the hell does that?”

“jimi hendrix does…” she mumbles sullenly, hanging her head low and so very clearly trying to make you pity her and give in. and alas, it’s working.

“stop pouting and come here.” you roll your eyes, even if there’s a hint of a smile on your lips. ellie lights up too, shuffling closer and opening her mouth again.

you scrutinise your stare. it’s a little red, yes, but that’s the entire tip of her tongue. if ellie ripped out a tastebud like she claims she did, she would have at least been bleeding a little bit.

meanwhile, ellie keeps her eyes trained on you. it’s so quiet in the room apart from the whirring fan noises and the sounds of cars driving past every now and then. she likes seeing you all focused, with your attention on nothing else but her. secretly, that’s why she’s always pestering you about meaningless injuries.

“you didn’t tell me where…” you murmur, but you leave no space for her to respond when you clamp her tongue down with your thumb and forefinger; pulling her tongue down a little further so you can get a closer look. the pad of your thumb drags across it to feel something, even if you don’t know what it is you’re really looking for. ellie’s caught off guard by this move. in fact, it projects her into this sudden state of being very aware of what you two are doing, the feel of your fingers in her mouth, on her tongue. she can’t help but fidget, getting distracted.

“don’t move.” you mutter, oblivious to the way ellie’s feeling. that firm command stirs her up even more, her breathing uncontrollably growing heavier. she tries to lock in, but with the way she’s suddenly conscious? horny? fuuuck, it’s difficult. you feel her hot breath fan against your knuckles.

“if you ripped out a tastebud then you would’ve been bleed—“ you trail off in the middle of your sentence when you glance up at ellie. her cheeks are a light shade of pink, prominent even under the warm amber glow of your bedroom lamp lights. her eyebrows are arched upwards, staring at you with this helpless look on her face. she looks so, undeniably pathetic. surprised, you let go of her tongue.

ellie looks away, wiping her mouth with her fist. you realise she’s very faintly trembling.

“ellie…” you murmur softly.

“what are we gonna have for dinner, by the way? you cooked yesterday but i’m very shit at cooking so we could order door-dash but at the same time we did door-dash the day before yesterday and the day before-before so..” she begins to ramble, clearly flustered and embarrassed. you smile.

“ellie.” you say again, taking her hands in yours. she pauses, staring at you. her chest heaves, eyes all big and yielding.

“let’s do this again, ‘kay? wanna tell me what you really want?” you say slowly, and the way your tone is soft makes ellie’s head feel foggy. she takes a deep breath, which almost sounds like a whine.

“i… um…” ellie’s always had trouble communicating what she wants. she avoids your gaze, trying to find the right words to say. she feels like a glop of slime, slowly melting. you give her an encouraging smile, brushing your thumb against the back of her palm in repeated back and forth motions.

“i want you… to, um— i need you to take care of me.” her voice crackles with neediness, urgency laced in her tone. her lips are quivering. you can tell how bad she wants this, but you can’t help but prod her some more.

“take care of you how? lots of ways i can do that.” your voice is consistently soft, almost cooing. ellie’s mind keeps on slipping into this hazy state, lips quivering and eyes half-slits.

“y-you know. i don’t have to tell you…”

“damn right you do.” you tut. “you’re gonna use your words and tell me what you want. i’m not inside your brain now, am i?” the slight change in tone makes ellie flinch, as she’d quite frankly die before disappointing you. you can literally see the cogs in her head moving, calculating what to say so that you’re able to give her what she wants and simultaneously not being bad.

her eyebrows arch again, subtly scooting even closer to you so that her knees are pressed directly against yours.

“can we… uh… like, have sex? like you touching me and stuff?” she whispers, as if somebody else could hear. you initially try to stifle in your laughter, but it slips out.

“oh yeah? how do you want it?” you giggle, amused by the way ellie’s fumbling over her words and constructing her sentences in this weird, adorable way. ellie scowls, not finding this the least bit funny.

“stop laughing at me.”

“how do you want it?” you repeat, grinning.

“i don’t know, you can do anything you want… just… please. i need to cum.” ellie groans, but it sounds more like a helpless mewl. you stare at her whilst ellie fidgets in her seat, eyes repeatedly flicking between your eyes, your lips and your lap. you can’t help but ‘awww’ in pity.

“anything, yeah? don’t hold your word against me, okay?” you raise your brows, expecting a response. ellie shudders in excitement.

“okay.”

so next thing you know, you two are kissing whilst ellie’s propped up on your lap. you’re aware of how she's grinding on you; trying to give herself flickers of stimulation. you let it happen, occasionally teasing her by bucking your own hips up. whenever you do so, ellie has a hard time kissing you back, losing composure and moaning in your mouth. it’s the hottest thing.

you pull away so you can marvel at the look on ellie’s face; quietly panting for breath whilst she stares at you with the most pliant look. so malleable it’s as if you could bend her into anything you wanted with just a command.

you smush your lips against hers again, only you’re more greedy this time: pushing forwards so you both drop onto the bed. you intertwine your fingers with hers, peppering wet kisses on her neck. the way your lips tug on her skin compiles ellie into mush, with no thoughts running through her head. she whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as her back arches, chest against chest. you continue to administer neck-kisses, leaving a few selfish marks whilst your free hand slowly inches it’s way towards ellie’s pants, tugging it down. ellie’s in her own world: wriggling free from the confines of her sweatpants as her head lolls against the pillow. next, your hand quietly reaches for the drawer. ellie’s eyes are closed, so she doesn’t realise when you pull out a vibrator with the head of a cute bear. you bite your lip, stifling in your amused excitement when you press the machine against ellie’s clothed cunt. ellie harshly gasps, eyes flying open before groaning.

“oh, i fucking hate you…” she laughs, head plopping back down, “you just had… to go for the— stupid bear one…” her words keep on getting broken up by moans slipping out.

“do you like this?” you grin. a wet spot slowly fades in the centre of ellie’s underwear. ellie whines when you heighten the setting. “yes or no?”

“yes….” ellie squeaks. “can we… t-take… aaah…” ellie’s having a hard time speaking with the vibrator flush against her. her underwear is growing wetter and wetter, outlining her vulva clearly. her stomach tightens.

“hmmmm?” ellie’s thighs twitch in delight at the sensation, back arching as she seeks out for more.

“my underwear… take it off, please.” she gasps out, her entire body buzzing. you turn the vibrator off so she has time to breathe, deciding to be nice for now: serving as a prior make-up for how much you’re going to ruin the poor girl. that’s why you do what she’s asked of you, slowly pulling off her undies. ellie shivers at the way it rolls down her legs, twitching at the air fanning her now bare cunt. your place your hand at the top of her mound, fingers spreading through her pubes as your thumb grazes against her folds, slightly opening it and watching as the juices eagerly flow out. you unconsciously lick your lips, pupils darkening. ellie watches you and blushes.

“you’re this needy? just ‘cuz of the tongue thing?” you taunt whilst ellie whines in response. you dip your head in between her legs, tongue flicking out to get a taste. “ohhhh my god, yesyesyesyes…” ellie whispers. you’re hungry, munching on her pussy like you’ve been starving for damn near weeks. ellie’s back flies off the bed, her hands desperately gripping the sheets.

“pathetic…” you mumble, and ellie moans at the way the word thrums against her pussy, sending vibrations in her entire body. her moans unabashedly rip out of her lips at the way you kiss and suck her heat. the frenzy consumes her, as her body jerks uncontrollably. to induce the cruelty, you suddenly pause: an idea flicking through your head like a light bulb.

“i’m really gonna mess you up. sorry, baby…” you murmur but ellie couldn’t care any less, so goddamn needy for release she’ll accept anything you give her. you grab the discarded bear-head and press down against her clit, the setting even higher than last time. it elicits loud reactions from ellie, helpless whimpers tumbling from her lips as she receives thrum after thrums of pleasure.

to make matters (better) worse, you resume your pussy-licking, so ellie can feel both the vibrator and your lips on her mound. ellie cries out, thighs instinctively trying to close themselves up. your hand firmly presses down on her thigh, keeping them open.

“nn—nnhhh… i can’t— i can’t, y/n, please.” ellie gasps out, on the cusp of release. she feels too much, too overwhelmed by the plethora of different sensations. grabbing your hair for some sort of anchor, her jaw falls slack: pathetic whines and pleasured sobs tumbling from her lips as they melt against the loud humming of the vibrator nudged against her clit. and your mouth only keeps moving.

you’re putting the work in, going to town on her and really fucking her up. thick tears stream down her face from how insanely good it all feels, her entire body twitching and jolting. your tongue laps strongly, whilst the vibrator is on the highest setting it can be. ellie’s bordering on becoming animalistic, letting out grunts and loud moans.

“g-gonna cum.. —cumming, i’m cumming..” ellie babbles pathetically, seldom coherent. jolting sharply, she grips your hair tightly, in which you groan from the slight pain, as you feel her warm juices flowing in your mouth. ellie pants as you turn the bear-head off, lifting your head up to glance at ellie.

you did succeed in breaking the hell out of her. there’s a heavy, dazed look written across her face; eyes glazed-over and as if she’s not really here. she looks boneless yet plush. you lift yourself up, gazing at her softly. it’s understandable she’s entered into sub-space after what they’ve just done.

“oh, baby…” you whisper, lifting her up so you two are sitting. ellie complies silently, weakly wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in the crook of your neck. there is no train of thought running through her head, and it’s almost as if she’s unconscious whilst fully awake. you run your fingers through her hair, kissing her head.

“my sweet girl… you did so good. so proud of you.” you whisper in her ear. ellie hums in response, burying her face even more. she’s all blissed out, liking the way the tip of your nails dance across her scalp. it makes her feel safe, but most of all loved.

hours later, when you two do end up ordering door-dash for the third time this week, ellie ends up flatly denying the state she had been in earlier.

“nope. no idea what you’re talking about.” she says, yet unable to hide her sheepish smile.

a/n: my singular contribution to kinktober 🧎‍♀️also i am a suuuuucker for sub! ellie like i was so giggly writing this!!! lmk if u were too (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)!!

[yelenasbraid]

lover — joe burrow

summary — joe’s only clingy when you’re around

warnings — fem!reader, so much sweetness you’ll get a cavity, joe being clingy, not proofread + rushed writing lol

tags — @wickedfun9 @starsinthesky5 @blairsworld22 @softburrow @joeyfranchise @willowsnook @iosivb9 @ebsmind @joeburrowshaircurl (comment/send an ask if you wanna be added!)

note — whipped this up in like two hours because we need some fluff in this tag. it’s getting absolutely ridiculous. mind y’all’s business. ANYWAYS enjoy!

JOE LOVED WHENEVER you worked from home. It meant that you were there when he left, and there when he came back. Joe wasn't the type of person — or boyfriend for that matter — to tell you you couldn't work. But whenever you worked from home, it was like a little treat for him.

The two of you were sat on the couch, friends softly playing on the tv in the background. Joe sat next to you, iPad in hand, reviewing film. He wore a loose t-shirt and sweats, funky spongebob socks adorning his feet. He was snuggled right up next to you, his shoulder squished against yours. He was leaning on you, and of course you didn't mind, not until he started to push you over.

“Babe, you're pushing me over,” you giggled, shoving him back a little with your shoulder.

“No, I’m not,” he argued with a pout, letting up anyways. You rolled your eyes, returning your attention to your laptop screen. You sent a few emails, while also replying to a few. It wasn't long before Joe had his body weight against you again.

“Joey, baby, I can't use my arm when you're putting all 200 pounds against it,” you laughed, and he only shrugged. That was Joe’s plan; he wanted you all to himself.

“Maybe that's the plan,” he gave you a cheesy grin, making you give him a look.

“You are such a distraction,”

“Oh I can be a distraction,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You knew what he meant even without the wiggling of the eyebrows. Even though you were working from home, you still had work to do. You couldn't just go wherever whenever. That part Joe didn't seem to understand, or maybe he did, he just liked being annoying.

“I’m well aware,” you agreed. Some other things were done, and the warmth of the atmosphere covering you like a blanket. Joe adjusted, laying his back against your shoulder, spreading his legs across the length of the couch.

“You're annoying, you know that?”

“You love me,” he smugly replied, his eyes trained on his film. He usually watched it on his laptop in the seclusion of his office, but today was one of those days. He clung to you like velcro, never wanting to leave your side. It wasn't every day that he was like velcro, but Joe found peace in your presence. You weren't always demanding something of him, applying pressure to him, or criticizing his every move. You provided a safe space for him, and he never wanted to leave it.

“Yes, yes I do,” you hummed, kissing the top of his head. Your hand left your laptop, snaking over Joe’s shoulder and landing on his chest. You patted his chest, running your hand up and down. Your hand went up to his face, grabbing his chin and wiggling his head around. You smirked, wiping your hand all over his face, causing a giggle to erupt out of Joe.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, moving your hand from his face back to his chest.

“Two can play at being annoying,” you hummed, kissing the top of his head again. You caught a whiff of his shampoo, well, your shampoo.

“You're using my shampoo,” you stated, causing Joe to flip around and face you. He flipped his bottom lip and shrugged.

“It smells better than mine,” he argued, placing his iPad on the coffee table. He rested his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your middle. No one ever saw him this way. No one ever saw the soft side of Joe Burrow. They always saw the cool, hard exterior. The man who is always ready to destroy. Joe-cool. He let that wall down around you, showing his soft and clingy side. If his friends ever saw him like this, he would never hear the end of it.

“Of course it does,” you laughed. Your arm wrapped around Joe, running up and down his arm. Your nails grazed his tan skin, sending warm prickles down his body. You still read something for work, but your hand absently moved across Joe’s body. Up his arm, to his hair, down his neck. There was nothing sexual about it, and he didn't feel that vibe, he just melted further into you and squeezed you a little tighter.

His face was buried into the sleeve of your sweatshirt, his eyes watching you work. He watched the computer screen, how you read articles and emails, responded to said emails, set up events. He watched you work, keeping in your element.

“What’re you doing?” He asked, his words muffled by the fabric of your sweatshirt.

“I’m setting up an event for some of the higher-ups. They wanted me to make sure they had the things they needed,” you explained, peering down at him. He looked so cozy, his hair soft and clean, his body completely relaxed against yours. He looked comfortable and at peace, which were feelings that were hard to come by nowadays.

“But you're not a secretary,”

“No, but they're still my bosses,” you reminded him, only to earn a slight eye roll from him. He watched you until the clock ran to 5, which marked the end of your workday. Joe was the one who closed your laptop, making you laugh.

“Impatient, are we?” you laughed, making Joe smile up at you and shrug.

“Your laptop gets more attention than I do,” he mumbled, making you laugh.

“Guess I should make it up then, huh,” you hummed in his ear, which made him sit up and look at you with anticipation.

“Yes, yes you should,” he smiled and he immediately kissed you, hard and fast, making you smile. Threading your hands through his hair, you moved your lips effortlessly against his. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Very eager, I see,” you teased, making Joe blush and attack your neck with kisses. You giggled, kicking your feet as you attempted to thwart his tickling. You loved working from home, and Joe loved it too.

[charliegyrth]

Three Roommates

Watch Them Feed Each Other...

This story is based on a recommendation by @nolantrojan.

***

I was the first to arrive in the dorms, so I chose the solo bed closest to the window. My two dormmates (Kirk and Braxton, according to the sign on the door) would have to share the bunkbed.

I’m an only child, so I’d never had to share space before. I was pretty nervous. For one thing, I was an introvert. Big time. I enjoyed hanging out with my closest friends, but when it came to meeting new people, I was super awkward.

For another thing, I was gay. I’d been out of the closet since junior high (though people had assumed I was gay pretty much since kindergarten). I wasn’t ashamed of it, of course, but I knew that some dormmates might have a problem.

When Kirk and Braxton arrived (together), my heart sank. I took one look at them and knew they were straight. Kirk had a buzz cut and lumbered when he walked. Braxton was a big, burly football-player type.

Both were quite handsome, though. (Especially Braxton. I loved big, manly bellies, and his was both of those things.)

“Yo! Roomie!” Kirk shouted like a total bro. He headed toward me and shoved his fist at me.

At first, I just stared at his knuckles. Then I realized he wanted me to give him a fist bump. I did (lamely).

“Nice to meet you!” Braxton said as he wheeled in both their suitcases.

“Yeah. Hi,” I muttered. I stared at my lap. (Terrible at eye contact.)

“You’re Trace, right? Or is it pronounced Trace-y?” Kirk asked. I couldn’t tell if that was a genuine question or if he was using a woman’s name to make fun of me.

“Trace.”

“Cool.” He turned to Braxton. “I get top bunk, man.”

“Says who?”

“Says me!” he shouted. “I don’t want your fat ass breaking the mattress and squashing me in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah?” Braxton said, charging forward and bumping his gut against Kirk. Clearly, they knew each other, and they seemed like frenemies.

Kirk shoved Braxton backward, forcing the bigger guy to stumble a few steps. Then Braxton grabbed Kirk by the shoulders and used all his weight to shove him onto the bottom bunk.

I looked away as the two of them got into a fight. Less than a minute after meeting them, and I already knew that I’d gotten the two worst roommates. They were just so bro-y. Were they gonna fight like this all the time? Worse, would they treat me like this if I did something to piss them off?

I pulled out my phone, looking for the RA’s email so I could request a transfer while Kirk and Braxton wrestled each other on the bed.

God. I hated my life.

But the wrestling noises died down, and when I looked back up, they were no longer fighting each other. Kirk was on top on Braxton, pinning him down and kissing him on the mouth.

Braxton pushed him back. “Dude! Not in front of the new guy.”

Kirk wiped his mouth. “Oh. Sorry.” Then he turned to me. “Sorry. We just get excited sometimes.”

“You two…” I stammered. “You’re…”

Braxton sat up and wrapped his thick arm around Kirk’s shoulder. “Boyfriends. Yeah. But we don’t wanna make you feel awkward.” He gave Kirk an affectionate yet annoyed glance. “Right, babe?”

Kirk shrugged. “We’ll behave ourselves.” He playfully jiggled Braxton’s belly.

In response, Braxton pushed him off the bed. “You’re the worst.”

“You are!”

Well, this was not what I expected.

Without saying anything, Kirk hurried into the bathroom, leaving me alone with his boyfriend.

“Seriously,” Braxton told me. “You don’t have to worry. We both know dorm etiquette. No fooling around when you’re in the room.”

“Cool,” I mumbled.

Braxton leaned forward, studying me. “You’re not upset, are you? I mean, having gay roommates?”

“No. I’m…”

Before I could say that I was gay too, he cut me off. “Thank frickin’ God.” Then he shouted toward the bathroom door. “Dude, he’s an ally!”

“Thank frickin’ God!” Kirk shouted from inside the bathroom.

An ally? Couldn’t they see that I was gay? I was wearing short-shorts and my suitcases were all Mattel pink.

Kirk strutted back in. He must’ve just washed his hands, because he was drying them on his jeans. “So. Trace. Tell us about yourself.”

I mentioned that I was an English lit major. That I was valedictorian at my high school. That I grew up in small-town Arizona. That I was single.

This was the perfect opportunity to come out to them, and yet I didn’t. I wasn’t sure why. I guess because I never really had to come out before. People just always knew.

Whatever. They’d figure it out eventually.

Then Kirk (the more talkative of the two) told me their story. They were both from Boston. They’d been dating since sophomore year of high school. They loved hockey (watching, not playing).

Overall, they seemed like pretty normal guys. I didn’t have anything in common with them, but I guess that didn’t matter.

There was one strange thing about our conversation, though. As Kirk was talking, he reached into his suitcase (decorated with Boston Bruins insignia) and fished out a packet of Oreos. Then, as he kept talking, he took out the cookies one by one and fed them to Braxton. Braxton ate each one without saying anything. It was the strangest thing, especially because neither of them acknowledged it.

Kind of cute, though. I wish I had a boyfriend who loved me enough to feed me sweets just for the hell of it.

Oh well.

***

I was alone in the dorms reading a novel for my Victorian literature class when the door flew open. Kirk and Braxton stumbled inside, both pawing at each other. Kirk had pulled up Braxton’s shirt halfway, revealing his pale, hairy belly.

They made it to the bottom bunk when they noticed that I was in the room. Kirk immediately let go of his boyfriend. Braxton's shirt dropped back down.

Braxton punched his arm. “Dude, you said he had class now.”

“I would’ve,” I chimed in. “But I changed my schedule yesterday. Didn’t like one of the professors. Sorry. I’ll… do the rest of my reading in the common room.” I stood up and started for the door.

“Naw, man,” Braxton said. “We can’t kick you out. It’s not fair to you.”

The three of us had been living together for two weeks now, and we hadn’t had a single problem. Once I got used to their more brash personalities, I really started to like them. In fact, I think their total confidence was really starting to rub off on me. Sure, there were some nights when I heard them messing around after they thought I was asleep, but that didn’t bother me.

Kirk looked over at his boyfriend, disappointed. “But babe. What about…?” He nodded toward a shopping bag in his hand. (I hadn’t noticed that before.)

“Later,” Braxton reassured him.

My interest was piqued. “What’s in the bag? If you don’t mind me asking.” (See what I mean about their confidence rubbing off on me? A few weeks ago, I would not have asked that question.)

Kirk looked at Braxton for permission. When Braxton nodded, he opened the bag and pulled out three packets of Oreos and a can of whipped cream.

“Just a snack,” Kirk said.

“Then why save it for later?” I asked. “Go ahead.”

They glanced at each other, both silently asking for permission. Braxton shrugged. Kirk grinned. And then they snuggled together on the bottom bunk (where they both usually slept) and Kirk opened the first box of Oreos.

I tried to focus on my book. I really did. But I couldn’t stop glancing over as Kirk slid Oreos into Braxton’s expectant mouth. At first, it felt like an affectionate display, just one guy spoiling his chubby boyfriend. But as they continued, things definitely got more erotic. Braxton started moaning. Kirk slid his hand in gentle circles across Braxton’s belly, sometimes pinching the fat at the bottom.

I stared at my book but my brain couldn’t process the words in front of me. I was genuinely confused by my roommates. Why were they turned on by Oreos?

And more importantly, why was I getting turned on, too? I wasn’t even looking at them, but I was still getting hard.

Eventually, the moaning stopped and I glanced over. They’d finished two packets of Oreos and Kirk was whispering something in his boyfriend’s ear.

Whatever he said made Braxton laugh. “Dude! No!”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask?” Kirk whispered back. Then, ignoring his boyfriend’s hesitance, he turned toward me. “Hey, Trace. Wanna join in?”

My heart pounded. “I… um, don’t like Oreos.”

“See?” Braxton whispered to Kirk.

Kirk held up the spray can. “Do you like whipped cream?”

“I guess.”

With a big smile on his face, Kirk gestured for me to come closer. I started to get out of my desk chair when I realized that my semi hard-on was visible through my pants. I lowered myself back down and scooted the chair toward them.

Too late, though. Kirk noticed the bulge and elbowed his boyfriend. “Told ya.” With my chair about a foot away from their bed, he handed me the whipped cream. “Try it.”

I was still confused, but I was curious, too. I popped off the cap and angled it toward my mouth.

“Woah! What are you doing?” Kirk said.

“I was just…” When I noticed Braxton’s open mouth, I realized my mistake. When he said “try it,” he didn’t want me to eat the cream. He wanted me to join in on feeding Braxton. The realization scared me a little. I was joining in on some sexual kink that I still didn’t understand. I guess I was open to it, though.

I pushed the can toward Braxton, but he stopped me. “Actually, if you’d prefer to have some yourself, we’d be okay with that, too. Right, Kirk?”

Kirk thought for a second, then smiled. “Why not? Could be fun.”

I thought that meant he wanted me to spray some of it into my mouth, but instead, he grabbed the can out of my hands and pressed the nozzle against my lips.

More warmth rushed to my dick. Why was this turning me on so much?!

Kirk held the back of my head and I started to suck. The cream filled my mouth and my cheeks bulged out. At first, I wasn’t ready to swallow. Then I did. He sprayed in more, and I swallowed that, too.

Then he pulled the can away from my face and handed it to Braxton.

Braxton leaned forward on the bed, his belly filling his lap, and he squirted more whipped cream in my mouth. “This is fun!” he told his boyfriend.

“Tell me about it,” Kirk replied as he pulled out the next packet of Oreos.

When Braxton pulled the can away, Kirk slid an Oreo between my lips. Then Braxton sprayed again. They went back and forth for a while, alternating so quickly that I was having trouble keeping up.

I’m not sure how long it lasted. (This whole experience could’ve been minutes or hours. I couldn’t tell.) But before the can was empty, Braxton stopped and said, “My turn again!”

He waited for me to take back the can, which I did. Then Kirk and I worked together to fill him up just like they’d done to me.

Somehow, my confusion at what we were doing only made everything hotter. Pretty soon, the cream was finished. The Oreos were gone. And the three of us just sat there, feeling a sense of achy satisfaction that reminded me of the first few minutes after sex.

“What did we just do?” I had to ask.

“Just a snack,” Kirk said. “We were about to head down to the cafeteria for our real lunch if you wanna join us?”

I looked at my phone. I had class in twenty minutes. I’d never skipped classes before. I opened my mouth to refuse, but instead, the word “okay” came out of my mouth.

Braxton kissed Kirk on the cheek, leaving a streak of whipped cream. “Let’s go. I’m starved.”

***

Kirk strutted into the dorm room with two grocery bags filled with god-knows-what. Probably more donuts because he knew how much I liked them.

“You are such a bad influence,” I said from my desk. “You know I have class soon.”

Braxton waddled into the room behind his boyfriend. “More for me then!”

“Dammit. Fine,” I gave in. “But this is the last time this week. I can’t miss any more lectures.” We knew that I wasn’t going to stick to that. I never did.

Three months into the semester, and I’d been to about half of my total classes. Maybe less. I was still keeping up with the assignments, but my work ethic had gone out the window, all because of our damn feeding sessions. They’d become an addiction. Our dorm room, covered with stains and filled with trash, was crime-scene evidence for how constant and messy those sessions were.

Kirk did all the shopping, and he seemed to be increasing the amount of snacks each time. At first, Braxton and I ate an equal amount. (Kirk never ate anything himself.) After a few weeks, though, I noticed that Braxton’s stomach had grown. I realized that if I kept going at his pace, I’d start gaining, too. I didn’t want that, so I pulled back a little, still stuffing myself but always stopping earlier than my fat roommate.

Outside of the dorms, the three of us started doing a lot of stuff together. We’d go to the movies, attend parties, and hit up the cafeteria (at least once a day). Even though I never joined in on the physical affection they showed each other (aside from giving Braxton occasional belly rubs), I really felt like we had become a throuple. I was always so much happier when at least one of them was around.

Kirk pulled our table to the middle of the room and unloaded today’s goodies. I was right about the donuts. He’d even gotten the ones with strawberry frosting! (I’d told him last week that those were my favorite.) He also had cinnamon rolls and (of course) cans of whipped cream.

I dutifully pulled my chair up to the table.

Braxton sat across from me, his belly pushing into the table. It had definitely grown in the last few weeks. Softened, too. It used to be more spherical, but it was seriously starting to droop.

“Who’s first?” Kirk asked grandly. He always asked that, and of course, he always chose his boyfriend. I didn’t mind.

But today, he turned to me and said, “You ready?”

I was both surprised and flattered. “Me first? Really?”

“You deserve it, bro,” Braxton said. “Kirk and I were talking this morning, and… Well, it’s been a fantasy for both of us to fatten up our straight college roommate. It’s kind of a dream come true.”

I gulped. Two things about that surprised me. The first was that they still thought I was straight. Yeah, I still hadn’t come out to them, but everything about me—from my clothes to my voice to my fashion sense—should’ve tipped them off.

And the other thing, the bigger thing, was that they thought they were fattening me up. No! I was still the same skinny guy. Braxton was getting fatter, not me.

“Guys, I’m not…”

“You’re not straight?” Kirk interrupted. “I knew it.” He turned to Braxton and held out his hand. “Pay up.”

Braxton grumbled as he pulled out his wallet and handed Kirk a five-dollar bill.

“You were betting on me?”

“Dude! It’s all good. We just have terrible gaydar. That’s all.” Kirk slapped his fat boyfriend on the back. “I mean, I thought this homo was straight right up until he went down on me at a debate tournament. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Braxton blushed. “Let’s just start eating.”

“Wait!” I said, even though Kirk had already raised a donut toward me. “I’m not trying to get fat. I just like the eating part.”

“Really?” Braxton said, squeezing the fat roll that had recently formed under his chest. “You’d like it.”

“No. I'm not... interested in that part. That’s why I’m not, you know, eating as much as you.”

Braxton and Kirk exchanged a long look between them. Then they both turned back toward me.

“Have you seen yourself lately?” Kirk asked.

“I…”

“Take off your shirt, man,” he encouraged.

Two months ago, I would’ve said no. I probably would’ve mumbled something and left the room. But I felt so close to my roommates now. Plus, I was confident that they were wrong. I might’ve gained a couple pounds, but I still fit into all my clothes.

I stood up and stripped off my shirt. “See? Still skinny.”

Braxton stared at my bare stomach. “Sorta. I think you’re skinny-fat now.”

Smiling, Kirk walked toward me. Without saying anything, he grabbed me by the waist and squeezed.

I gulped. For the first time, there was something to squeeze.

I looked down and saw his fingers gripping rolls of fat on my sides. Love handles.

Still not speaking, he grabbed the skin under my belly button and squeezed that, too. More fat.

They were right. These feeding sessions had coated me in fat. My overall shape hadn’t changed, but I’d gotten soft.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t realize…”

“Why?” Kirk said. His hands still played with my belly fat.

“Because I don’t wanna get fat. I like the way I look.”

Slowly, he slid his palms up my stomach before stopping at my chest. With his eyes locked on mine, he squeezed into my pecs. Except, they weren’t really pecs now. They were bulges of fat.

I trembled a little. That felt good.

“Why?” he asked again.

“Because I don’t want… I…”

He kissed me.

God.

Braxton must’ve gotten out of the chair, because he was suddenly behind me, his fingers tracing the slight creases just above my love handles. He kissed my neck.

“You can’t stop now,” Braxton whispered into my ear. His belly was pressed into my back. “Now that we know you’re not straight, imagine how much more fun we can have.”

Kirk pulled back. “And imagine how big we can make you.”

I didn’t say anything. I allowed them both to push me back into my chair. Kirk and Braxton joined me at the table.

These two were definitely a bad influence on me, but I couldn’t fight it anymore. I opened my mouth and waited for the first donut.

***

I was at my laptop, listening to my professor drone on about Charles Dickens again. Now that I’d switched to 100% online lessons, my classes were so much easier. I could set my own pace (more or less) and since I was in the comfort of our own apartment, I could graze on snacks as much as I wanted.

I reached into my potato chip bag for another handful, but all I got were crumbles on my fingers. I’d need Kirk to get me another bag.

Before I could ask him, I felt him surprise me from behind, kiss my cheek, and place a fresh bag in my lap. Somehow, he always knew.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Is the lecture almost over?” he asked.

“Forty more minutes.”

“Really? We can’t wait that long. Can’t you…”

“Ugh. Fine.” I made sure that my mic was on mute (it was) and pushed myself out of my chair. The lecture would continue without me. I’m sure I wasn’t missing much. I was going to graduate in a month, so it really didn’t matter if I missed one more lecture.

Kirk grabbed my hand and led me into our living room.

Braxton was waiting on the couch, shirtless as always. He smiled up at us, not at all surprised that Kirk had convinced me to skip out on another lecture.

He looked particularly handsome today. His latest cluster of stretchmarks had finally faded, leaving faint pink trails from his lower belly all the way up to his under-moob roll. Sure, his moobs had gotten a bit mismatched, with one angled more to the side, but with nipples as big as potatoes, how could anyone complain?

One day, I’d catch up to him. Probably not for a while, of course. 400+ was a pretty heft goal, but one day. I had the determination.

He patted the space next to him on the couch. “Ready?”

“Always,” I said as I flopped my fat ass onto the cushion. Kirk pushed the table closer to us. It was covered with platters of lasagna and spaghetti. No utensils, of course. Now that we lived off-campus, we could get as messy as we wanted, and of course Kirk wanted us to get really messy.

He took a second to glance back and forth at his two massive lovers, smiling at what we’d both become. “I love you,” he said, talking to us both. Equally.

Braxton grabbed the front of my shirt to help me strip it off. At his size, he couldn’t really angle his body toward me. I ended up pulling it off myself.

“Trace,” he said, “you’re beautiful.”

“I know.” Yeah, he outweighed me by 130 pounds, and he looked so much more massive than me, but we loved each other too much to compare. He was beautiful, and so was I.

“Alright, dudes!” Kirk said. “Dig in!”

Braxton scooped up a handful of lasagna while I went straight for the spaghetti, allowing tomato sauce to ooze down my chubby arm.

Kirk, still as slim as ever, climbed in next to me and started playing with my belly. That always kept me motivated.

And through the door into the other room, I could see my laptop. My professor’s face was still there, talking about something unimportant. I had better things to think about.

The End And please send me more suggestions!!! They're so much fun!

[moncesita-te4lblu]

"Sabe ke me paresko como una munekita..." ♡

Characters : Cho Hyun-ju (squidgames 2), f!reader

Warnings : lingerie wearing, taking pictures before and during sexy time, a lot of making out, sexual tension, readers flexible, praise, smut, other things I forgot idk

Summary : Trying on some pretty clothes with your girl <3 (and things get a little heated)

You push Hyun-ju on the bed and climb onto her lap as she lets out a small laugh. Her hands land on your waist and you arms around your neck. She leans forward and kisses you, with a bit of urgency, as her thumbs rub against your waist. As you two kiss, your fingers dig into her hair and play with it. Hyun-ju hums into the kiss, tilting her head to get a better angle.

♡♡♡

The day had been quite boring. You stayed home from work and worked around the house while Hyun-ju was out at her job. She had to get up before the sun for her shift, so by the time you woke up, she was hours into her shift. Thankfully tho, she came home pretty early; at about 2pm. You made lunch for you two and you ate on the couch as you watched whatever show Hyun-ju picked. She helped you with the dishes after and she was a bit more... touchy than usual. Not that you minded.

As you two laid back on the couch, you got an idea for that night; having a bit of a photoshoot with her. You remembered all of the lingerie sets, and nightgowns you two have and thought it'd be a good idea to take turns trying them on and using Hyun-ju's camera to take the photos. As you imagined it, you spaced out and of course, your wife noticed. "Babe?" She speaks up, "You spacing out? What's on your mind?" You look up at her. "I have an idea..." you say, sparking her interest from your tone.

♡♡♡

You pull away from the kiss, looking down at your wife. "You first, sexy," you say and roll off her lap as Hyun-ju laughs a bit from your petname to her. She gets off the bed and to your walk-in closet, closing the door behind her. You lay on the bed with your back against the headboard and the camera in your hand.

After a bit, Hyun-ju walks out, clearly a little shy but not uncomfortable kind of shy. She wore a low-cut silk red nightgown with black lace of the collar, straps, and at the bottom hem; a slit at the bottom of the skirt. She loved that nightgown, and oh how you did too. Hyun-ju walks over to the bed and climbs over to you. As she does, you take pictures of her. You put the camera down and she climbs on top of you and kisses you, your hands moving from the camera to her waist. After a bit of kissing, she pulls away and smiles down at you, sweetly but with a pinch of lust.

"My turnn" you purr out and flip you two over. You go into the walk-in closet as Hyun-ju takes your spot on the bed; against the headboard and camera in hand. After a while, you walk out in a white two-piece lingerie set, black lace the top of the bra with a black bow in the middle; the bottom is a two-layered miniskirt with black lace on the hems and a bow at the top. Hyun-ju looks between your face and body as you walk in her and get on top of her too. Your give her a couple poses and she snaps photos. Then you take the camera and take pictures of her, leaning against the headboard with her dress hiked up, legs a bit apart. Then you put the camera down and kiss her, hard. Your wife grabs your face, deepening the kiss almost immediately. You grab the camera and take pictures of you two making out.

"You look so good in red..." you pull away from the kiss to say. "And you look good in white," Hyun-ju replies, kissing you again. "So good..." she mutters. "Your turn, baby..." you say after a while. Hyun-ju hesitantly pulls back and nods. You sit back on the bed and your wife goes back to the closet; shamelessly staring at how her ass looks in silk.

After a bit, Hyun-ju walks out with a two-peice on. The top has floral lace above her boobs and under them, the rest of the top black with white stripes; the underwear black with white stripes with a pink bow at the top and floral lace creating a micoskirt effect. You take pictures as she walks up to you. Your wife was clearly more timid/shy with this piece on than before. She climbs on top of you, her face red as she feels your hands tracing her biceps.

You flip you two over so Hyun-ju is under you. You kiss her and pull away a bit later, taking pictures of her under you. After a couple flashes, you put the camera down and kiss her again. The kiss quickly turns more desperate. "You're quiet," you tease her and go back to the kiss before she can reply. "I'm trying to focus..." Hyun-ju mutters and pull you closer into the kiss. Her hands go to your waist and you press yourself harder against her bulge. She grips harder onto you and moans against the kiss. After a bit, you pull away, breaking the make-out. "My turnnn..." you say and climb off of her and right back to the closet.

You walk out in a short black sheer dress that sticks to your curves, which barely covers anything, with nothing underneath and black thigh highs. The dress has pink lace on the breasts and at the bottom, a pink silk bow on the top, with black garter suspenders attached to the bottom of the dress with silk pink bows at the clasps. You walk up to her as she oogles at you, forgetting to actually take the pictures. You climb onto the bed. "Baby, the camera" you laugh. "Oh-oh yeah right..." Hyun-ju mutters and points the camera at you and takes a couple pictures. After a couple shots, you lower your top, flashing the camera and laughing. Hyun-ju gets redder and stares at you until you cover yourself back up.

You climb on top of her and kiss her, just ask desperately as before. But this time, your girl seems more touchy. And you could feel the reason why pressing against your thigh. "I want to..." Hyun-ju mutters, staring at your lips then back to your eyes. "Fuck, take me" you reply and she flips you two over.

She starts kissing you again, her hands rubbing your waist as her body keeps your legs apart. Your hand travels down and you start touching and feeling on her hard-on, earning a moan from her. She grabs your wrist and pulls it, then pulls the lingerie underwear to the side, her dick springing out and hitting her lower stomach. She leans down and kisses you, her hands reaching under your inner knees and pulling your legs apart, your thighs on either side of your torso. Hyun-ju pushes herself in, all while not breaking the kiss. It was you who broke the kiss, throwing your head back a bit when she bottoms out inside you.

Hyun-ju waits a while, kissing your jawline and neck. "Babe..." you whine out and buck your hips a little, frustrated that she wasn't moving. "In a minute..." Hyun-ju replies, not pulling away from kissing everywhere but your lips. Just as she said, after a minute, she finally started moving; although slowly. You let out moans with every thrust, your arms wrapped around her neck. Slowly she started getting faster with her movements and you louder with your moans. You reach over and grab the camera, giving her a soft "please", and she nods. Hyun-ju stands up a bit but doesn't falter her movements as you point the camera shakingly towards her and take pictures of your girl above you.

After a bit, Hyun-ju grabs the camera from you. She lets go of your legs, slinging one over her shoulder and the other by her waist. She points the camera at you and, smiling behind the camera, speeds up her thrusts and takes pictures of your pleasured face. After a couple pictures, she puts the camera down again and puts her free hand on the leg that rests on her waist, opening it more. "Cmon baby... cmon..." Hyun-ju grunts under her breath as she continues going faster. Your legs shake and you feel the upcoming orgasm building up in your abdomen. "Hyunnie..." you dig your nails into her wrist and the sheets as you moan out. "So good..." Hyun-ju praises, moving some hair away from your face. "...cum mama cmon..." your gently grabs your face and waits for your moans to get more high pitched to lean in and kiss you, your legs shaking as you reach your peak.

Hyun-ju slows down her thrusts, riding your orgasm out. "There you go [nickname], good..." she mutters. She pulls away from you and she pulls out, your hips jolting as her tip hits your clit. She presses her thumb against her dick to keep it between your folds, thrusting slowly to not overstimulate you. After a bit, she lets out a groan/moan when she hits her peak too, shooting it right at your clit. Hyunju leans down, licking up your folds once and giving your cum-covered clit a kiss. Seeing your reaction, she keeps going.

She opens your legs, roughly eating you out as you squirm and yelp at the overstimulation. "Ba-abe..." you throw your head back and dig your fingers into her hair, pressing her more into you. Hyun-ju moves her head side to side as she runs her tongue all over you. It didn't take long for you to feel the second orgasm of the night coming along. Hyun-ju noticed it too; your girl started focusing her attention to your clit roughly sucking and licking on it till you came. Your thighs trap Hyun-ju between your legs; not that she minded. Finally, your legs go limp and she pulls away. She sits up and climb on top of you, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She leans down and kisses you, more gentle than all the other kisses. "You did good, baby" Hyun-ju whispers. "I love you" She says and leans down down to kiss you. "I love you..." you reply, your voice still shaky. Hyun-ju falls to the side, cuddling against you and pulling the sheets over both of you. "You're so pretty... perfect..." she praises, stroking your hair. You're too fucked out to reply, just laid there in her arms panting. "Can't wait to see those pictures, lovely..." she kisses your head and cuddles closer to you. She notices your eyes getting droopy. "Goodnight, [nickname]" she whispers and kisses your head, slowly drifting to sleep too.

Inspo for the fits :

Hyun-ju's : Reader's :

Kinda sucked but the vision was there

Cooked but left some crumbs

[mindless-existence1]

Leo NNN

Leonardo Hamato x Reader NNN (no nut november)

How long Leo lasts NNN. 1,433 words!

Main masterlist

Rottmnt masterlist

"I don't think you can last thr whole month." With mock offense Leo gasps loudly and puts a hand to his chest. "I can't believe my own partner would have such little faith in me." Your side eye makes the masked turtle scoff.

"Lets make a bet, if I can last the whole month you have to do whatever I say for a day and if I lose then I'll do whatever you say for a day." "Alright, deal."

There were a lot of times Leo almost failed, but the urge to win your little competition over powered the need to come. About halfway through the month though, it all came crashing down.

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

"How's it going?" Leo can hear Raph's muffled voice through your phone. The two of you were tasked with a stakeout in the turtle tank. Leo chose to take it as an opportunity to have basically a date night with you, the night was put on pause when Raph called you to check in.

You and his brother talked for another few minutes before Leo heard you say you goodbyes and you hung up the phone. "What'd Raph say?" Leo looks down ans asks, you were drapped across his lap. The two of you were in the middle of a video before Raph interrupted.

"Just told us to stay focused and all that. Though I doubt we'll see the foot in a place like this." Leo just nods his head in agreement. A mischievous glint catches you eye that Leo notices. "You know babe there is something we could be doing to pass the free time.

Leo let's you situate yourself on him in a way that you are straddling his thighs and facing him. One of you arms is laying on his shoulder, wrapped around his neck. Your other hand mindlessly rubbed his plastron. "Yeah? And what's that?" Leo's voice wavers eveer so slightly in response.

Leaning in closer, your faces mere inches apart Leo gulps. "I think you know." Your sultry voice makes his face flush red (dark green??). Leo hesitates but pushes your shoulders back gently. "Y/n no you are not making me those this. But nice try."

You roll your eyes. "Oh common we don't even have to do anything like that, I didn't even have to say anything before your mind went there though. You desperate Leon?" You tease, Leo just gulps in embarrassment. Your hand drifts lower towards Leo's tail.

A shaky hands reaches out to stop you, "Babe you're not playing fair." Leo's voice warbbles in response. "Fine if you really don't want to I won't force it." And just like that your back to how you were laying before and begin to play your video.

A few minutes past before you notice how Leo is shifting beneath you. "Something wrong?" Your mocking voice makes Leo groan. "You're so mean you know that?" You chuckle, "I don't know what you mean Leon. Care to share?"

Your boyfriend takes a minute to respond. "What's the date?" Slightly taken aback you grab your phone ans check the date. "The 17th." A disgruntled groan rips through Leo's throat, a hand goes up to his face and covers his eyes.

After a minutes of silent contemplation Leo takes the hand not on his face and grabs yours, bringing you into a kiss. The atmosphere turns heavy the longer you kiss. It's sloppy at best, parting ways just to pant into eachothers mouths and going back to eachother for more.

When Leo pulls away fully his eyes are trained on your puffy lips, his thumb mindlessly rubbing your bottom lip. "I made it over halfway, that's got to count for something. Right?" His shaky voice is desperate at best. This makes you smirk, leaning back in to capture his lips, only pulling away respond. "Whatever you go to tell yourself baby."

Your hand slowly drifts down towards his tail as the two of you continue to make out. This time Leo doesn't stop you. When you reach the scaly muscle the terrapin flinches slightly. Your nimble fingers find the slick slit quickly. The tips of your fingers dip into the tight space easily.

"Someones desperate." Leo's face flushes, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Your boyfriend grumbles something against your shoulder you do catch. He's quickly cut off when your fingers slip in deeper into him.

It doesn't take much for Leo to start moaning, after half a month of hardly any touching he's turned sensitive. The deeper your fingers go the more desperate he sounds. Soon enough you feel something brush against the tips of your fingers. "You going to drop already?"

All Leo can do is nod, mumbling something about you not playing fair. Your fingers retreat, only to be followed by Leo's cock slipping out of his cloaca. The release of pressure makes a whine tear through Leo's throat. Your boyfriend mumbles curses under his breath from the intense feeling.

You rub your fingers up and down the muscle gently, slowly building up to fully jerking him off. Leo mumbles incoherent nonsense that you don't catch. "Look so pretty like this, all fucked out when we haven't even started." The praise brings a blush to Leo's face, simultaneously making his hips thrust into your hand desperately.

Your free hand goes to Leo's cheek, you bring his face to yours. Leo quickly takes the hint and beings kissing you deeply. The moans spilling from the terrapins mouth are soaked up by your mouth. It doesn't take long for Leo to struggle to kiss you back. He pants against your lips more than he kisses back.

"Fuck- y/n stop." You freeze for a second before quickly pulling your hand away from him. You try to stop touching him entirely, hoping to not overwhelm him. Your confusion only grows when Leo latches onto you. "Leon? You ok?" Hesitantly you try to find out what's wrong.

It takes a minute for Leo's breathing to even out enough for him to breath properly. "I was about to come," his voice laced in embarrassment, "I'm not losing that easy." You sigh in relief, it quickly turns into a chuckle. "You had me worried Leon."

Your hands gently rub shapes on his thighs mindlessly. You don't miss how his hips thrust upward at the contact. You also notice how he is still completely hard. Precum drips onto the cold floor, your hand slowly goes back to his weeping length.

Leo chokes on a whimper, his hands tightly girp your arms leaving indents on your skin. "Y/n-" He cuts himself off with a breathy whine. His voice seems to be up an octave from the pleasure. "Just let yourself enjoy it babe, you've made it so far you deserve a reward."

The praise goes to Leo's head immediately, he can't deny the fact he needs to come any longer. Finally letting go and giving you the reigns, he gives up trying to deny the pleasure. A mantra of pleas fall from his lips uncontrollably.

"Common pretty boy, let me make you feel good." That's all it takes for him to let out a sob, he comes in your hand. His body shakes from the intensity making him grab onto you desperately. You move your now sticky hand on his spent cock to help him through the shocks of pleasure.

As he comes down from his high you gently take your hand away from him, his dick now retracting into his shivering tail. Leo's body goes limp against yours, the only sound in the vehicle that can be heard is Leo's heavy panting.

You looks down to see the mess the two of you made in the Turtle Tank. The atmosphere reads of sex and Leo's come is on the floor around the two of you. Your boyfriend looks up at you in confusion when he hears your loud laugh. "Donnies going to kill us." Is all you can say in-between laughter.

Clarity washes over Leo's face. "Oh shit." He looks down to see his drying come litter the floor. "You think we can clean all this up before he notices?" You ask already knowing the answer. "Even if we do he'll know. He always does somehow."

After a few minutes of cleaning up with napkins you found in some box a loud crash grabs your attention. The two of you peer out the front window only to be met with foot clan members breaking into the warehouse. "Well damn that's a suprise."

[lokis-army-77]

A New Purchase

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.6k

When you come home only to discover your boyfriend has bought something completely ridiculous.

Warning: 18+. p in v, riding.

Here's the little thing we talked about the other day @munson-blurbs @lofaewrites @chrissymjstan @hellfire--cult (it isn't as good as I think it could be but oh well)

Masterlist

Eddie was almost giddy with excitement when he saw the Facebook marketplace posting. The aluminum body was a bit rusted and the inside fabric was also questionably stained but hey it was a decoration for three hundred dollars and local pickup, hell yes, he was buying it. 

The only thing Eddie didn’t realize was that it wasn’t a small decoration. No…  it was real and he had no clue where he was going to store it until Halloween. Then came the brilliant idea of testing it out. He only wanted to know what it would be like to lie there, how comfortable would it be?

That’s how you came to find Eddie lying in a casket in the middle of your living room.

Walking through the door you stop suddenly, as the small walkway between the wall and the back of the couch is blocked. Eddie is lying there, eyes closed and hands crossed over his chest. 

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?” 

He can’t help the grin that paints his once stoic features. He squints open his eyes as he begins to laugh. “I’m testing out my new purchase. Do you like it?”

You sigh and whip your hand over your face, shaking your head. “What on Earth possessed you to buy a casket? Wait, hang on, where did you buy a casket?”

He sits up, resting an arm on the side, and goes into his explanation. “You are never gonna believe it, fucking Facebook Marketplace. It was so cheap and to be honest I thought it was a fake one that would have been maybe a foot or two tall but nope. Imagine my surprise when I get to this guy's house and he rolls this baby out. He slaps the side panel for emphasis. He even threw in the church trucks for free so it would be really easy to move around.”

You just chuckle and shake your head. “Okay, then why did you buy it?”

“I figured we could use it to decorate for Halloween and also because when I saw it was actually real I just had to test it out. Take it for a test drive before I actually do kick the bucket.” He said it so seriously like it was the most obvious reason in the world.

“Eddie, really?”

“Oh, come on babe, like you’ve never thought about laying down in one of these bad boys.” 

“Contrary to what you might believe, no, no I haven't.” 

Eddie reaches out then, making a child-like gesture of opening and closing his hand. You walk forward and curl your fingers around his. “Switch places with me, see how it feels.”

“No, I’m not getting in there.” You laugh.

“Why not? Do you really want the first time you experience this to be when you’re dead? You won’t even know if it's uncomfortable or not.” He pulls you forward even more. 

“Eddie no-”

“Come on… If you won’t switch then get in with me.” 

You give in, sighing playfully as you bend down and crawl into the cramped casket. Eddie tries his best to shift over so you have space, but the area inside is only so big and definitely was never intended for two.

You both are laughing when your knee suddenly loses its steadiness, atop the thin, almost non-existent padding layered over the metal bottom, and slides out from under you and you fall on top of Eddie’s chest with an “oomph”.  You look up and you catch a glint in his eye as they darken just a bit. 

It’s a familiar look, one that he has given you so many times no matter the situation or surroundings. A look that he knows you will give into. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You plead with him, knowing where this will end. 

Eddie looks at you, eyebrows raised in faux confusion. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way, Sweetheart.”

You slap his chest playfully. “Eddie you are giving me your ‘I want sex’ eyes and I am not going to, not here.”

“Baby,” He wines. “Come on. It’ll be sexy. We could even role-play as vampires.” 

“No-”

“Please.” Eddie reaches his hand to cup your cheek, pleading softly as he brings his face closer to yours. You are trying to fight it but you know you can’t and Eddie knows too. As soon as he looked at you with those sultry brown eyes, you were plyant in his grasp.

When his lips press into yours, you sigh, relaxing into him. Your fingers curl into his shirt and you inch up, caging his hips between your thighs. It hasn’t even been thirty seconds from when the kiss started and you can already feel him hardening under you. 

Pulling away, you mumble into him, lips barely touching. “Does it really turn you on thinking of fucking here?” 

Eddie nods and surges forward to reconnect your mouths. His tongue flits past your lips and finds its way inside, caressing your own. 

You're barely-there resolve crumbles as you begin to roll your hips into him. You can feel his hard length as you grind, his breath catches in his throat. 

"Fuck baby," he mumbles against your lips.  "Need to feel you around me."

There is a heat coursing through you, clouding your mind as your fingers begin to unbutton his pants. 

Eddie is eager, his hips press up into your hands, pushing you to free him faster. The blue cotton of his boxers has turned a deeper color in a small spot where the head of his cock rests, the precum there being soaked up by the cloth. 

You slide a nail up his covered shaft and a great shiver overtakes his body under you. "Don't tease me- please."

A chuckle bubbles out of you. "But that's the fun part." 

Eddie just whimpers in response. 

You begin pushing your fingers past the elastic waistband. You pull the fabric down and bring your other hand up to help situate both his pants and boxers down to his mid-thigh.

His cock springs forward and you can't help the feeling of absolute lust coursing through your veins. You need him inside you, now. 

You silently thank your past self for deciding to wear a dress today. In your need, you don't think you would be able to wrangle yourself out of a pair of pants. 

Firmly you take Eddie's cock into your hand. He hisses at the new pressure you ar editing him. 

"Fuck baby, just like that." His hips jump into your touch. 

"Gonna let me fuck myself on you? Gonna let me take what I want?"

Eddie only nods. Words have left him as he stares into your sultry gaze. 

You begin to stroke him, up and down, spreading the stickiness leaking from his tip with your thumb. 

Then, you begin to scoot up his body. Hovering over him. Eddie watches in awe as you take him up in one hand and move your panties over with the other. A slow moan releases itself from your as you begin to sink down on him.

Eddie's cock was perfect. It always felt so good to be wearied around him, his head pushing deeper into you. 

Both of your breathing is labored. You try to keep yourself calm, you don't want to rush into riding him, you want to take your time making each of you feel wonderful. Eddie. On the other hand, is trying not to combust as he lays there and watches.

The way your dress is hiked up around your beautifully, thick thighs, how his cock disappears into you, surrounded by a curly thatch of hair. 

God he loved you. It was the only way to explain why his heart was beating out his chest. 

You groan as you feel him entering you. There is a slight burn as you stretch around him. Slowly, you begin to move your hips. Eddie starts to make choked noises and his hands reach out to grab you. His fingers grip your hips, helping you grind into him. Your own hands grasp at his covered stomach. 

There was an ache building as you moved. Low in the depth of your stomach and it began to grow. The more you fucked yourself onto Eddie the more the ache was felt. IT had you clenching down around him. You cunt milking his cock of everything he could give you.  

Eddie’s hands caress your body. When his fingertips touch skin, it's like an electric shock goes through you. 

“Eddie-” You moan.

“I know, love.” He mummers. 

“Can feel you so deep.” You grind harder, shivering as your clit rubs against his pubic bone. “Need more.”

“Yeah? Take it, baby, take anything you want.” 

You catch Eddie’s hands and guide them up under your dress and to your breasts. 

He hums in approval as he pushes your bra down and begins to play with your nipples, pinching and pulling them slightly.

Your head lolls to the side, hair falling down around you. It’s taking so much energy for you to keep moving. Your legs are beginning to tire out, there is a sting in your muscles. Your knees are screaming at you as they dig into the not-so-comfortable foam at the bottom of the casket. 

Body becoming rigid, you cry out, moaning Eddie’s name loudly into the living room. Your fingers cling to him as your body caves into him. You can no longer keep moving so Eddie begins bucking his hips into yours, helping you to ride out this high and bring him to his own. 

Eddie lets you fall almost completely on top of him once he’s finished. His arms wrap around you, your breaths in sync with the other. 

As you rest your forehead on Eddie’s chest, you feel the tiny movement of him jerking. He’s trying not to laugh. 

You crane your neck to look up at him. “What?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Eddie.” 

“Nothing, just that we fucked in a casket.” His smile was as wide as could be,

You let your head fall and you laugh into his chest. “Don’t get used to it.”

[luveline]

could i request one of the girls having a nightmare in kbd? 🥺

kbd —dove has a nightmare, you and steve help her get back to sleep. mom!reader

The crying is expected. Toddlers are still babies, in a way, and some start to settle, but Dove is a toughie. She’s more sensitive than she shows, and she needs a soft touch each night to get to sleep, sometimes multiple times a night.

The screeching is less expected.

You tumble out of bed, heavy with your own tiredness and unhappy to be woken. You’d shout for Dove if you thought it wouldn’t wake the others. You settle for rushing. Steve says, “Babe?” as you leave, and you’re thinking he’ll probably go back to sleep. 

You nudge open her door. Dove sits sobbing in her toddler bed, the high side to stop her from falling also preventing her from climbing down to see you, her first wrapped tightly in her quilt. “Mommy,” she quivers, holding up her hands, quilt and all. 

“Oh, bubby,” you say hoarsely, “what’s the matter? Come here, come here.” You scoop her up into your chest. “It’s okay, Dovey, it’s okay.” 

You pat her back. She sobs like you’ve imprisoned her, though after a moment she starts to calm, twitchy but her sobbing less aggrieved. Steve makes his way into her bedroom and guides you back to bed. 

“Shh, lovely girl,” you say. “Try not to wake your baby sister.” 

Dove isn’t old enough to just shush like that and you aren’t expecting her too. If Wren were going to wake, she would’ve roused at the violent sobbing. Steve pushes the bedside crib toward the wall and ushers you and Dove into bed, looking eager to lay back down, even more so to turn off the light. 

“I want it on,” Dove sobs suddenly. 

It flicks back on. “Sorry, Dove,” Steve says, pulling the blanket up to her legs. Sometimes when she cries it’s just because she’s woken up and doesn’t want to be alone. You can bring her to bed and that’s the end of that. Not tonight. “What’s wrong?” 

“Spiders.” 

Your tired eyebrows rise. “Spiders?” 

“In my room.”

“There’s no spiders, baby,” you whisper, sliding down into bed with your poor girl clutched to your chest. 

Steve slouches down with you into his gargantuan pile of pillows and cushions, reaching for her chubby elbow. “Sounds like you had a bad dream,” he says softly, tongue tied with parentese.

“Is that what it was?” you ask, stroking tears from her cheeks. “Did you have a bad dream, Dovey? There’s no spiders on mommy’s wall, I promise.” 

She is not convinced. Dove cries for a long, long time against your chest, her bad dream pervasive and lingering in the scared huddle of her face and her arms tangled around your neck. You hum by her ear, tap-tap-tapping a soothing rhythm into the bottom of her spine, gentle reassuring that doesn’t seem to do any good. 

“Want me to try?” Steve whispers. 

You pass her over. You’re sweaty where she’d been laying and your cheek is tacky with her transferred tears, too hot in the dim room. Dove grizzles at being moved, doesn’t settle at all in Steve’s arms, her foot digging into your hip as she cries all over again.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay!” he whisper shouts, enthusiastic and adoring, all things loving despite his tired squint. 

“Lots of spiders,” Dove cries. 

“I won’t let anything get you, bubby, no spiders no nothing. Me and mommy won’t let any of the spiders get you. How about you go in the middle, would that make you feel better? Me and mommy will be on either side of you and we’ll make sure nothing gets you.” 

Dove doesn’t answer. Steve slips her into the small space between you, the three of you squeezed together. Long shadows cast from Steve’s arms as he pulls the blankets over her legs and tummy. He rests his hand on her ribs. “No spiders,” he promises. “Good dreams. Mom’s gonna kiss them into your head.” 

You lean down and kiss her as suggested. “Dreams about me and daddy and you and your sisters,” you say, though it takes a while, each few words said between pecks. “What do you think? What do you want to dream about, Dove?” 

She sniffles. “Ummm…” 

“Anything you want,” you say. 

“Swimming,” she says finally. 

“Yeah? At the beach, or at the pool?” 

“At the beach… daddy makes a dolphin.” 

Steve let the girls ride around on his back the last time you went. It’s a great memory you didn’t know she had, and it’ll make for good dreams. Steve wraps his arm around you both as you kiss it into her limp hair, murmuring, placating, bringing your pinky to her face to draw lines down the bridge of her nose. She falls asleep not long after that.

Steve rubs the lengths of his fingers into the crook of your arm. “Can I get one of those good dreams?” he murmurs. 

You kiss him goodnight. Thankfully, none of you wake again before breakfast time. 

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 fade-prison angst rookanis snippet enjoy 🪶

Satisfied, Lucanis drops his rag back into his water pail, carefully rubs the stripped wood dry and turns to place its contents back to the surface. He wipes down the little tiered shelf with all her make-up pots, scratches the fingerprints and oils from the grooves of the intricate designs, takes care to re-arrange them in the same order she had them; shadows on the top tier, oily lip tints in the middle, flaky fragile glitters at the bottom. Her little lidless box of nail colors, he places back in the top right corner, by her standing mirror.

Removing the dust from the velvet that lines her jewelry box is harder. He closes the box to bring it to the kitchen; to soak the metals in rubbing alcohol and wipe the gems clean, to find his fabric brush and work fresh cleaning broth into the velvet. Maybe he'll drip some lavender oil into the folds.

The necklace he finds in her separate dish, the open, lacquered seashell rimmed in gold, makes him pause.

He remembers buying it, the second she'd turned away from the crystal peddler's stand in Treviso, after hearing its price and sighing. For this cheap little thing, tourmaline and aventurine on a chain so frail it seems to break if one but breathes on it wrong, the peddler asked for obscenely much money. Normally, Lucanis would have scoffed and turned away. But Rook had looked at it so longingly he felt he had no choice but to buy it anyway.

They'd barely been commited to each other three days.

Illario had broken the chain easily, grabbing her by the neck of her cloak and flinging her aside with surprising ease and clear intent to murder her and then him. Lucanis' little attention toward her torn apart almost symbolically.

Lucanis remembers telling her he could just get her a new one, remembers her shaking her head. It's the first thing you got for me, she'd said. She'd wrapped it in a torn piece of her shirt and placed it in her seam pocket with more care than he's seen parents handle their babe. I don't want to just replace it. Her hair had shaded her face a little, the sudden glint of her teeth just outside of unsettling. I want to treasure it and pass it on, someday. That cheap little chain that already started to change color and stain her skin, that cost the peddler all of three coppers to make. As though he'd hand-built her a bathhouse from pure gold.

Since then, it had waited, on its dish, in its shell, for the day there was time to go get it repaired.

Lucanis finds himself in that corner of her room, suddenly so impossibly big and cold and empty and suffocating, just as broken as that necklace.

The stool creaks underneath him, smelling of dust and old tapestry. He can feel the nails pricking into his skin, through his clothes. She'd complained about the cushion giving way beneath her before. He'd forgotten to have it repaired.

The energy to clean her room is punched out of him.

He hadn't protected the necklace from breaking. He couldn't save her from being snatched away into the Fade. He can't even tidy her space for her without falling into disrepair himself, it seems.

She thought the world of him, and not only could he not deliver, he failed her miserably. It churns his guts like cold cherry juice on an empty stomach.

Spite looks at him from under the table, awkwardly patting his right foot. Comfort is not a concept he's adept at.

His hands somehow feel small and chubby, the nailbeds rough and stained with blue paint. Lucanis doesn't know why he feels it through his boots.

He curls in on himself, head between his knees and hands pulling his hair.

Spite, for once, doesn't comment on his desperate wails.

🪶

idk if i like it yet, i wrote this on a whim. I have a tummy ache and the documentary my dad watches makes it look like Ramesses II only ever had sweet fluff loml moments :(

but on the bright side, i have a Big Storm planned hint hint [its a multichapter exploration of Fade Prison Angst]

@chubritza wassup

[~rina]

[libraryofloveletters]

The Right Way To Do It 

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: it's ferrari!seb of course - he's the most husband, seb's so picky and reader is over it, one childish joke about balls, seb's a little OCD about his ornaments, some playfully husband and wife bickering.

Word Count: 695

Author's Note: welcome to my holiday extravaganza series! are we shocked im starting with seb? no :) I hope y'all enjoy this as much as I as do!!

--

Sebastian is the most meticulous person you've ever met in your life, and yes, that also translates to Christmas tree decorating. 

The 8 foot tree stood strong and tall in the middle of the window. You stood back a few feet, looking up at it in all its glory. The boxes of ornaments you had Sebastian lug up from the basement were scattered on the couches and the coffee table.

How are you ever going to get this done?

You took inventory of all the ornaments you had, making sure you had even amounts of the colours before you began hanging them on the tree.

Starting from the bottom, you rotate the colours every few ornaments. It took you a few tries and a lot of reshuffling before you were satisfied with it.

"That's not how it's supposed to go," he calls as he walks into the living room, dropping himself down into an empty space on the couch.

Kneeling on the floor to put the ornaments on the bottom branches, you shift to look at your husband. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," he nods, eating a bit of the popcorn you had made to string and put on the tree. "It's supposed to be red, gold, green. Not red, red, gold, green, red. That's messy, babe."

"Instead of nitpicking, why don't you just come do it yourself?" You huffed, turning your attuning back to the tree.

Sebastian liked to annoy you, picking at things just to raise your blood pressure. You often bit back, much to his amusement.

He liked it when you got feisty with him. He never took you seriously, not until today.

His warm hands rested on your shoulders, carefully shifting you off to the side as he started to rearrange the ornaments you had hung. "Seb, are you serious?"

"As serious as a heart attack, baby." He smiles at you, then turns to the ornaments you had scattered on the living room floor.

Sebastian starts muttering under his breath, his fingers moving 100 miles an hour as he sorts through something in his head. You looked at the man, watching in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"Counting."

"Counting.. what?"

"Balls."

You snickered at his response. "You're counting.. balls?"

He rolls his eyes, "we need to go to the store." Your brows furrow and he senses the lack of understanding, as if you were missing a piece of the puzzle, and that you were. "We need more green, let's go."

Much to your displeasure, your husband drags you out into the cold. He promised to buy you one of those hot chocolates you liked from the stand outside of the store before you went home and that he did.

Five massive shopping bags in hand; Seb picked up anything from ornaments to throw pillows to Christmas candles.

He had a habit of losing his mind when the holidays rolled around.

After you two finally made it home, Sebastian instructed you the order in which you had to hand him the ornaments; red, gold, green, red, gold, green - in that exact order.

You huffed and grumbled, handing him the ornaments as he moved around the tree, saying that you could have done the same thing. Sebastian playfully rolls his eyes at you, reminding you that you don't have to help if you don't want to and as much as you'd love to stop, you knew Seb would get distracted and leave the tree halfway decorated.

It took an hour and a half, a trip to the store and a bit of bickering but the tree was finally done.

You stood up, watching as Seb steps off of the stool, the star sitting perfectly straight on the top. His hand rests on your lower back, pulling you into his side.

"Perfect, isn't it?"

You roll your eyes, "I would have done the same thing, Sebastian."

"Not the way I'd do it, though." He teased, nudging your hip with his. You find yourself rolling your eyes yet again, something you did often in the presence of your husband.

"Yeah, sure." Your hand resting on his jaw, your thumb brushing over his soft skin - he finally shaved, an early Christmas gift for you - you lean into your husband, reaching up to kiss him. "Whatever you say, Seb."

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 17

Kinktober Masterlist vox nihili - "voiceless" Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader Kinks > demons, face fucking, come inflation, dubcon Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

As an experienced witch, you decide to summon a powerful demon because you need his help, but the only way you can get his energy is by swallowing his come. 

Warning: some dubcon, some actual goofiness, some come inflation; you know the drill. Don't like it? Don't read it!

You were prepared this time. You had bought the best supplies from very reputable sources. You’d mapped out the star charts. You’d articulated the spleens. Everything was in its rightful place. You were summoning a demon tonight, or you were hanging up your grimoire for good.

Ever since you’d discovered you had found a true Book of the Beyond, you’d practiced with it. You’d managed small things - imps, fairies, the odd incubus here and there - but, you wanted power. And true power came at a price. You had made a sacrifice or two over the years, and if you were being honest, sacrificial chicken fried up in a pan just like the real thing. So, it never went to waste. But, it just wasn’t cutting it. 

So, you switched over to blood magic. Now, as you sat on your wooden floor, surrounded by candles and runes and attuned crystals, you took your blade in your hands and cut your palm to drip your own blood onto the bright white, chalk pentagram in the middle of the magic circle you’d created. 

This was going to work. It had to. You were going to be the most powerful witch in the whole wide… wait.

What is that?

Your blood had created a small portal, and through it came a huge, dark hand. 

Out of the floor in your den, a huge Arch Demon crawled into your space, steaming from the heat of Hell, snarling with vicious fangs, and yet looking like the most handsome man you’d ever seen in your life. 

When he finally made it to the surface, you looked down at his legs; the furry, cloven hooves making ruts in your hardwoods. His tail swished back and forth, and he held a black, iron trident in his right hand. He was fully nude, his body carved from marble, nearly seven feet tall, with black, twisting horns that sat low on his head. His chest was broad and well-muscled, and his belly rounded right down into a swinging, engorged, uncut dick that was as big as your arm… soft. 

“Hail!” You said, repeating your memorized mantra like you were supposed to, “Demon of the Underdark, Ruler of Great and Powerful Evil, I have summ–”

“Wha’s goin’ on in here, love?” The demon sounded… British?

“Well, I was reciting my mantra to summon you to this plane, my lord, just as the great tomes have des–”

“You summoned me?” He cackled, dark and deep, “Is that what this is? Oh, fuck me. Tha’s so adorable, babes.”

“Adorable? I need your powers, demon. Together, we will control the entire realm! Pray, tell me your name that I might write it in my book of magic.”

“Are you mad, love? A screw loose up there? These candles are from the department store, and I’m not sure what that is, but it’s definitely not eye of newt, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the demon chuckled, crossing his arms over his hulking chest, smiling down at you, “But, the name’s Gaz. Write it anywhere you want.”

“I just…” You felt tears spring to your eyes, trying to fight the frustration, “I always get so close to doing it right! The spells, the incantations… I even used the right runes this time. But, I still don’t have my true powers.”

“And what powers would you like to have, pet?” Gaz furrowed his brow as he looked at you, considering you with more regard, using his thumb to raise your chin up so he could see your face.

“I want to be a Master Summoner,” you sniffed, trying not to let your trembling lip give away your desperation.

“Ahh,” Gaz nodded knowingly, placing his hands on his hips, biting into his full bottom lip, “I think you’re missing a key element of your spell, babes.”

“What’s that? Please, my lord, I will do anything to know your secrets,” you prostrated yourself before him, your hands nearly touching his black hooves as you splayed yourself on the ground. 

He bent down and pulled you up to your knees, shaking his head,

“It’s no secret, love. Demons only come when they know there are souls to harvest. I’ve come for yours, sweet as it is, but if you want to attract more of my kind, you must have more souls.”

“How do I get more souls?” You asked, watching his deep brown eyes calculating and manipulating the world around him, figuring just how to get what he wanted.

He smiled, leaning forward to kiss you on your pouting lips, immediately forcing his slithering, forked tongue into your mouth, plunging through your throat, testing its depth.

You choked around its soft, writhing form, but you let him devour you, feeling yourself swell with lust between your legs. He pulled away with a pleased moan.

“I can put them in you,” Gaz purred, standing tall again with a dark look in his eyes. He reached beneath the behemoth that was his cock and fondled his heavy, melon-sized balls, “I’ve got plenty in here. Just need to make sure they stay inside your body where you can keep them safe, pretty witch.”

“Whatever you believe will work, my lord,” you peered up at him, trying to look obedient and worthy of receiving dark powers, “I am your humble servant.”

“C’mere,” he beckoned you, and you crawled on your hands and knees to kneel before him, hanging your head in deference.

Gaz used his demonic paw to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head back, stretching your neck and bending it at a terrible angle. You gasped, hissing from the sudden pain. Then, he held your head in place and began to rub the oily body of his demon cock against your face, dragging it over your nose and mouth, letting the head drool across your cheek. 

“I think we should keep them in your belly, love. Are you gonna suck them out of me, or do I need to put them there myself?” His voice was a jagged growl. 

You looked up at him and stuck out your tongue, using both of your hands to massage and rub his cock all over your face, letting your tongue lick the fire and brimstone smokey taste from his shaft. You found the head at the end of his long length, and you suckled away at the shining, dripping precome that oozed from his slit. 

The only problem was, you weren’t sure how to fit this huge cock into your mouth. You made a feeble attempt at sinking his head between your cheeks, and he chuckled at you, guiding himself a little deeper, making your jaw ache from his intrusion. 

“Tha’s it, lovie. Gotta work for it, babe.”

“Mm hmm-nm,” you told him. 

“Oh, yeah? More, you say…” He winked, watching your eyes widen with concern, and he took both of his terrible fists, curled them into your hair on the back of your skull. 

Decisively, and with a steady strength, Gaz shoved his cock through your stretched lips, past your tongue, and rammed it against your soft palate, making you gag against him, your body convulsing, trying to stop him from going any further. The demon snarled, 

“Now, suck. Show me your true powers, witch.”

You were bolstered by his belief in you, even if you also felt like your jaw was going to dislocate itself from your face. When your eyes peered down your nose to map out just how much more cock you needed to swallow, you shivered. But, you were going to be a Master Summoner, and you weren’t giving up that easily. 

You began to suck in long, aching pulls, breathing through your nose, working your head back and forth with Gaz’s help, massaging his wet tip until it was practically bursting with dewy drops of his slick. You swallowed it down your throat, and you were surprised at how comforted you felt by the sensation of his warm fluid slipping down into your empty stomach. 

“Good… so good,” Gaz rumbled with a pleased resonance, “Are you ready for me to fuck this tight little throat of yours?”

“Mngh! Nhuhmph!” You tried to shake your head back and forth, but his heavy prick had hardened, and you couldn’t move or turn your head at all. You were trapped on him, stuck in place, primed and ready for your mouth to be claimed by a demon. 

“I knew you would be,” he smiled sinisterly, taking a step forward and shoving his cockhead past your palate and into your throat, feeding himself down your neck and stretching you in places you were almost positive you should not have been stretched. 

The sting made your eyes well up with tears, flowing freely across your temples, and you tried to shut them to clear some of the pain, but your hellish master used his hand to slap your cheek twice in quick succession, punishing you for it, his voice a sinful command,

“Eyes on me, you fuckin’ slag. Power hungry girls don’t get to be shy. Face your challenges, witch.”

You looked up at him, finding that dark defiance within you. He was right. You did hunger for power, and you wanted him to fill your belly full of souls so that you could control the demon army of your destiny. This was your time to shine. 

You wanted to impress him, so you stared into his gaze and sank yourself even deeper down onto his dick, gagging violently as you tried to take him. It felt like his cock was in your chest. 

“Ooh, yes,” Gaz grinned with sharp, white teeth and fangs, proud of your fury, “Tha’s it, babes. More. Take more of me.”

You felt him press himself down and down and down, all your hopes of taking one last breath were dashed, and you could only wriggle helplessly on the end of his long rod like a fish on a hook, caught and without any chance of escape. 

Maybe he would kill you and take your soul to Hell, you thought. He was a demon after all. But, he wasn’t done with you. Gaz watched you struggle to remain conscious, trying to breathe as he rammed himself in and out of your throat, fucking your face with reckless need. Then, he pulled himself out of you just enough for you to suck in a ragged, drooling breath, and he held himself there, watching you carefully. 

“There,” Gaz purred, petting the same cheek he had so violently abused, “Breathe, pet. Better make it count.”

You were crying from the desperation, unsure of how to get your lungs to feel even the slightest pull of relief, trying to suck in air through the thick drool and slick precome that coated your nose and mouth. 

Then, he pet your head and sighed, 

“That’s enough for now.”

He was back to his pounding. You were taking him all the way down to his swollen root now, and his black curling pubic hair brushed against your nose and chin. You used your hands to fondle his swinging sack, massaging his balls, coaxing them to dump their many souls into your willing body. You were preparing to be a vessel for a demon, and the feeling between your legs let you know just how much that idea turned you on. 

“Suck!” Gaz shouted, slamming his cock through your mouth, “Suck me harder, you filthy little bitch. Suck me like your life depends on it,” he leaned his head down and made his eyes flash red, “Because it does.”

You wailed, but it came out like a moan, trying so hard to please him, sucking him when you had the ability to do so, but for the most part, you were nothing more than his warm cocksleeve. 

He buried your face in his pubes, holding your head down as you thrashed for air, pushing at his furry cervine legs for freedom, and then… you stopped. You felt euphoric. Your mind stopped fighting as soon as you felt the molten hot stream of Gaz’s viscous demon come filling your belly. 

“Oh, fuck! Yes,” he moaned, smiling sickly, trembling and shaking above you, keeping your head pressed down, forcing you to take him as deep as you could, “Swallow it all, witch. Drink up all these fuckin’ souls.”

You swallowed and took in as much as you could. He had been pumping and throbbing inside of your mouth for so long now, you could actually feel the weight of his seed inside of yourself, and it made you feel so powerful. You rubbed your lower belly, rounded from the creamy gulps of demon come that was being stuffed inside of you, enjoying how full you were. 

Then, all of a sudden, Gaz released you, raking himself out of your throat, bringing strings of come and drool and spit with him. Your body clenched, gagging and coughing as he left you empty, your throat feeling like it had been burned. You could taste his spend on your tongue, and you sat back, panting, trying to let the oxygen get into your brain again. 

“Mmm,” Gaz moaned, jerking his softening prick in his huge hands, taking the tip and rubbing its sticky remnants all over your face, “Such a good little summoner. You summoned my come right into your tummy, didn’t you, slut?”

“Yes, my lord,” you rasped. 

“Does my nasty witch wan–” Gaz’s salacious comment was interrupted by the portal reopening. You both slid away from it, unsure of who or what was coming through.

“Gaz?” A demon with a tall mohawk and long, straight horns that went back across his head, squeezed himself through the open gap in your magic portal, “Mate, where did ye run off to? Didnae even finish your third torture sesh. Oh! Oh… what’ve you got here?”

The apparently Scottish demon startled you, and his gaze was unsettling. He stared at you like he wanted to eat your bones for supper. 

“It worked!” You celebrated, “Oh, thank you, my lord. The souls you gave me have summoned another demon!”

“What?” Gaz said, “Uh, no… this is Soap, and he was jus–”

“Summoned? I wasnae summoned here, lass. What was supposed to work?”

“The souls,” you explained smugly, “Lord Gaz has filled my belly with his seed, and he told me that it contains a multitude of souls that I can use to attract other, more powerful demons.”

“He told you that his fuckin’ spunk was full of souls,” Soap asked, his face curling into a boyish grin, “And you believed him.”

You nodded. Gaz sighed, waiting for the next quip that he knew was on its way out of the other demon’s mouth. 

“Well, bonnie,” Soap sauntered over to you, jerking his own immense phallus, “Mine’s got twice as many as his does. Hope you saved room for dessert.”

[kokonoooi]

✧ telling hanma to bow to you instead :

cw: fem reader, role reversal, oral (f! receiving), dirty talk/degradation, fingering, impact play, brat-taming ig u can say

wc: 991

"On your knees."

His "Sin"-tattooed hand pointed down to the spot in front of him on the shiny, swirled-marble floor in his office.

Very characteristic of Hanma to demand head in the middle of him doing paperwork.

"How about you get on your knees for me?"

You quirked a perfectly arched eyebrow at him as you stood before his desk; all you were trying to do was ask him what he wanted for lunch.

You didn't have time for his shit today.

Hanma's golden eyes trailed all over your body, starting from your feet and moving up to your pretty fingers sporting those black stiletto nails with real 14K gold-chain detailing.

It came as no surprise to him that you'd say some shit like that; you've always been a brat.

Hell, that's why he liked you.

A dangerous, violent man like Shuji Hanma wouldn't dare put a weak-minded bitch at his side.

"Oh yeah?"

In an instant, all 6'4" of him was towering over you, skulking forward like a panther ready to pounce until he had backed you up against the bookshelf situated at the back wall.

In his pursuit of you, he had also grabbed his rolling chair from behind the desk to push in front of you once he had you trapped.

"Sit down."

"Shuji, I don't have time for this bullshit-"

"I said sit the fuck down."

With an exaggerated huff, you threw yourself into the chair, arms crossed over your chest indignantly. A true brat, indeed.

The corners of Hanma's lips turned up slightly, and he leaned down to kiss your forehead softly before grabbing you by the neck with the "Punishment" hand.

"Telling me what to do, huh baby? I kinda liked that glint in your eyes just then."

He tilted your head back to peck your lips, then put one hand on the chair to push it forward towards his desk.

Hanma slammed you against that desk, the sturdy oak material not even moving an inch with the impact.

"Can't say it's anybody's fault but my own, but that's okay. I like it when you get bitchy."

"What are you doing, Shuji? Stop messing around!" You moved to get up, but the look that he shot you quickly made you reconsider.

"You wanted me on my knees, so that's what I'm doing, baby."

He chuckled softly and dropped to his knees before you.

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor; this was new.

A small, golden key on a chain around his neck came into your line of sight as Hanma reached behind his head to unclasp it.

He used the key to unlock a bottom drawer on the desk and pulled out a pair of shiny, silver ankle cuffs along with a spreader bar.

“You like talking down to me? Making me into your little bitch? Huh, babe?”

Once he had you situated with your legs bent up at an angle and cuffed to either leg of the desk, he rolled his sleeves up.

Hanma spanked the fat parts of your thighs - left, right - alternating between “Sin” and “Punishment” as if you had wronged him, had betrayed him somehow and he wanted to make you suffer before he gave into pleasuring you.

Your body jolted and you flattened your back against the soft cushion of the chair with each strike.

He didn’t stop until your skin was so warm that it could’ve been glowing if you looked hard enough. His big, strong hands smoothed over the aching flesh and then slipped behind your knees to hike your legs up enough to slip his head between them.

The cuffs clinked against the legs of the desk, the cold material uncomfortably digging into your ankles.

“SHUJI, oh God!”

His hot tongue flickered over your clit; he used the tip to coax it from under its hood before pulling back and spitting a fat glob of spit onto it. The lewd sound echoed across the expanse of the large office space, making your face burn.

He moved his hands from behind your knees to grip your still-aching thighs and hold you steady as he buried his face in your wet cunt and went to town.

When Shuji was irritated and eating you out, he was doing it for his pleasure, not yours. It always felt like he was worshipping you, though. Doing his best to please you and show you that you didn’t belong anywhere else except with him.

“Mmm..,” he moaned, opening his golden eyes and staring up at your heated face as he continued to use his tongue to play between your folds. 

With a loud slurp, he pulled himself away, reluctantly.

“Ahh!”

Three fingers sunk into you; “Punishment” while “Sin” pulled your folds back so he could watch how your little hole stretched to take him.

“You’re soakin’ me, fuckin’ slut.” Hanma grunted as your juices began sliding down his wrist and forearm.

After only a few minutes of this, he removed his fingers and flicked them - you could hear your wetness splash against the marble floor, further embarrassing you but also turning you on.

He switched hands in rapid succession and began fingering you once again, twisting and angling his fingers directly at your G-spot.

“S-Shuji, please…” Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, breathing labored.

"What's that?,” he leaned his ear towards you, “ready for me to get up, love?"

He sat back on his legs, knees spread wide so you could see how his cock strained against his pinstriped suit pants. You quickly shook your head.

"N-no, Shuji - please, don't stop!"

This brought a wicked smile to Hanma’s face and he licked over his lips before leaning back in to kiss each of your knees.

"Hmph, wasn't planning on it, brat."

✧taglist: @enchantedforest-network, @darkstarlight82, @chifuyuskoneko, @honeybleed, @ranspuppy, @kokonoiscoconut

[trashogram]

Heyyyyy friendo

If you're willing can we get a fluffy hcy one shot for when reader was still pregnant? I can't get enough of her and Lucifer being an absolute dork

Like maybe reader is trying to do house work and Lucifer is trying to get her to sit down and she's just like "n o"

Not quite what you asked for, but I hope this will suffice!

***

You’ve been glowing for 5 going on 6 days, illuminating a good portion of the whatever space you occupied, and it was only that unmistakeable luminance that kept Lucifer from jolting out of bed.

The bedroom door had been kindly left open, and Lucifer hesitated only at the reminder that he had yet to take his slippers up from Hell and to your apartment. He leapt out of bed, clad in apple-printed boxers (the ones you could not stop giggling over as soon as you saw them) and sought you out. It shouldn’t have surprised him to see you assembling a bookshelf in just an old t-shirt in the middle of the living room floor. But the King of Hell stared at the bizarre picture in front of him for a long moment.

“Babe.”

You looked up at him and grinned.

“What?” His exasperation was mostly for show, already returning your smile with his own. Happiness was so contagious when you wore it.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You replied. “And the fact that this shelf was just sitting in the closet was driving me nuts. So I thought ‘why not?’. It’s better than just thinking about it till the sun comes up.”

“Better to become a carpenter than to cuddle with me, huh?” Lucifer gazed at you with too-big, saccharinely sad eyes and a quivering pout.

“Oooh, a carpenter like Jesus?” You asked. “You would bring him up, wouldn’t you my Prince of Darkness?”

“Pfffbbtt!” Lucifer waved your words away, sitting on the floor with you with legs crisscrossed. “You made that reference, not me!”

He sighed, head in hand as he stared at you with naked fondness. “You are a miracle though.”

Your arched brow and flick in the blond’s direction belied the color that rose in your cheeks. “Stop it, you.”

It didn’t stop the former Angel, continuing to make goo-goo eyes at you while you concentrated on lining up two wooden boards. Lucifer’s gaze set on the growing bump that now filled out beneath your breasts, visible even under your baggy clothing. He felt that overflowing flush of warmth through his whole body at the affirmation that you and the baby were doing well. The horror of your condition during your initial pregnancy was not gone from his mind; but he was more than tentatively hopeful that you would not only survive, but thrive. And so would your baby.

And then, once he or she was born maybe… maybe you would realize you loved him, or at least liked having him around. And maybe you would agree to see him and the baby sometimes, or even let them stay with you… and maybe he could be one of the things that made you happy in life…

“What’s that look for?” Your question catches him off-guard.

You’re not looking at him, busy twisting a nail into the bottom of the box you’d successfully created.

“Aha, hmm?” Lucifer cleared his throat. “I-uh, was just… wondering why you didn’t put any pants on to do this?”

You snorted, putting down your nail and tiny wrench. “Lucifer, you out of everyone should know that pants come off when it’s time to screw.”

“Hahaha, that’s so funn—o-oh, aha…” Lucifer went beet red with that and with your subsequent laughter.

—

You ended up washing your hands of the project when you realized your shelf was inside out. (“The instructions suck! And there’s too many labels. They want me to fail on purpose!”)

Lucifer took your hands and held you close, soothing your sore attitude with gentle words and fervent pawing as soon as you were back in the safety of your comforter together. The bookshelf lay forgotten until the late afternoon of the following day, though you fell asleep with a smile as Lucifer kissed your forehead goodnight, humming happily beside you.

[writing-house-of-m]

Playing Games & Mischief

Leigh Shaw x GN!Reader

Summary: Leigh's sleep talking has you wondering what she could have been dreaming about

A/N: I only got this request when I asked for some ideas last week, which I'm actually grateful for lol Here you go anon, I hope you like it. It is very cute in my opinion 😌 but let me know what you all think!

You have been wanting to see Leigh all day, she was already gone when you woke up this morning. There has been something you wanted to ask her since you woke up in the middle of the night last night. 

Something you think will embarrass Leigh which means you have to mention it for your own entertainment. 

The sound of the front door opening and the rustling of bags indicate Leigh is finally home. ‘Finally!’ You think. You have had to wait for her all day (a few hours). 

Sneaking into the kitchen you quietly walk up behind Leigh and wrap your arms around her, your voice is low when you speak. "Hello wife," you say, pressing a kiss on Leigh's neck. 

You don't think you will ever tire of saying that - 'wife'. 

Leigh greets you back and when you look up to see the full grocery bags she turns her head to peck you on the cheek. She busies herself with emptying the contents of said bags. 

After you place another peck on Leigh's shoulder you pull away giving her some space to continue with what she is doing. 

You stand by her side leaning against the counter and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Mrs Leigh Shaw, my love, my wife, the eternal light of my life." Leigh raises an eyebrow at your antics wondering where this is going to go. “I have a question for you.” 

You don't wait for a response and continue, "Does 'You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them' sound familiar to you?" You ask. 

Leigh squints her eyes at you confused. 

To clarify, you add sweetly, "What were you dreaming about last night, love?" While grinning. 

It's quick, and if you were anyone else they would not have seen it. There is the briefest look of realisation on your wife's face before she schools her features once more. 

And even though you know she knows you can catch her in a lie, she still chooses to withhold the truth from you. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Leigh grins back then turns around to walk to one of the cabinets to put some cans of food away. Purposely looking away from you because she doesn't want you to see the sheepish look on her face. 

Oh, she wants to play. Time for a little fun. 

"Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie,” your grin widens as you raise an eyebrow. 

Leigh makes her way back to stand next to you seemingly unaffected. 

Being with Leigh for so long means you know all the right buttons to press. So the tone of voice you use is one you know will get a reaction out of her. 

You lean in close, one hand leaning against the counter, the other going to the small of Leigh's back while you speak low, “You know, I know when you're lying. Why must we play these games, Mrs Shaw?” 

Leigh glances over at you from the corner of her eye then sighs, resting her hands on the flat surface in what you think is defeat. 

You're so close to her now you can practically feel the effect you have on her especially with your voice teasing Leigh right by her ear, "Tell me love, what was it you were dreaming about?" 

Leigh turns her head to you, your lips inches apart. You twitch your eyebrow while biting your bottom lip ready for Leigh to fall victim to your charm. 

What you don't expect is for Leigh to reverse the roles. 

"What if I say I was dreaming about you?" It's Leigh's turn to raise her eyebrows and bite her lip. 

"I had you in the palm of my hand,” she narrates sultrily, hand on your chest to push you so that your back is pressed against the edge of the counter. “And you just wanted to," Leigh's hand slowly makes its way up your bicep,"touch me." She finishes as her hands glide up your neck and rest there.

Goosebumps flair on your skin as you sigh, affected by how close she is, her breath brushing your lips. Your eyelids droop as she takes hold of your stings and plays you like a puppet. 

This is not going how you thought it would. 

"Then what happened," you whisper. You're surprised you even get the words out with the way her fingers play with the hairs at the nape of your neck.

"And then," she pushes her body, if possible, even closer to yours. Her soft edges mould perfectly to you while your arms catch up to the instructions your brain is sending out to wrap around her waist. You feel heat radiating from your cheeks and the tips of your ears when she brushes her nose against yours. 

When she leans in, “And then…” you blink slowly waiting for the gap to close. But Leigh pulls away, "And then I woke up!" She slaps your cheek twice then heads out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there in a dumbfounded mess. 

"You can finish with the groceries, I'm going to go shower," Leigh says, her voice bright. She pauses at the doorway to look over her shoulder at you. You, with your wide eyed, mouth agape look of despair, "love." Then proceeds to walk away. 

You rub the back of your neck while you scrunch your eyebrows together, "What just happened?" You sigh to yourself, looking at the items that still need to be put away. Your brain then slowly catches up with the fact you had just been played. 

Freezing for a second, it hits you. What she instructed. And where she is going. 

You scoff as a smirk takes over your face and before you know it you're racing off in the direction your wife just went, "Leigh Shaw, you're going to regret that!" 

When Leigh hears your footsteps closing in on her she tries to run away but you are too quick for her. Leigh shrieks when your arms wrap around her, capturing her like prey. 

You both fall into a fit of laughter stopping a few feet from the bathroom. Turning Leigh around in your arms, she buries her face in your neck to avoid looking at you, playing coy. 

"Nuh uh, let me see those pretty eyes, baby," you say, using your hand to guide her face away from its hiding place. 

When her green eyes meet yours your smile is automatic. You swear you see them sparkle with how much they seem to be shining at this moment. The sparkle you initially think is admiration turns out to be mischief. 

She raises an eyebrow, "So, how exactly am I going to regret my actions?" Leigh asks cheekily. 

"Let's just say, 'You did some bad things, but I'm going to be the worst one of them'." You mock Leigh with her own words from last night, making yourself chuckle. 

In response Leigh rolls her eyes, pushing your shoulder. 

Shortly after, the mischievous look takes over her face once again, "I want to know how you're going to punish me." 

That damn lip bite is going to be the death of you, but this time you are not going to let her win. 

You lift her up with ease and lean in close, your lips barely grazing hers to say, "Oh, I have a few ideas," before closing the gap between you and making your way to the bathroom. 

[myloveforhergoeson]

Roxy's front door was unlocked.

It wasn't abnormal, James told himself as he entered her small one-bedroom. Usually, he'd just use the door connecting 2-J to 2-H, but he'd run out to get her some flowers before picking her up for their dinner date.

"Babe?" He called out, loud enough so she could hear from anywhere in the apartment, but soft enough that it wouldn't scare her.

She'd texted him a few minutes ago to let him know he could come in, so she should be expecting him.

A muffled voice called, "In here, just finishing up my make up. Be out in a sec," from what he presumed was from the bathroom connecting to her bedroom. "You can hang out in my room if you want."

And he was more than happy to, setting the bouquet he'd purchased on the kitchen counter. He loved her room; The decorations, the smell, the ambiance. It was like walking into a museum exhibit all about her and he could never, ever get enough of it.

The sweetness of her rose-scented perfume tingled in his nose as he let his gaze wander.

How she'd managed to tack up the posters covering three of the four walls, floor to ceiling, by herself, James would never know, but as he wandered in and took a look at all the faces, decades and decades of music legends stared back. All of varying sizes and shapes, a gigantic Oasis poster was centered in the middle of one wall, with various small posters ripped out of Pop Tiger around it. Some of the edges were perfectly straight, she must have used some sort of blade to remove them from the binding, while others were rough and jagged - like she just couldn't want to tear the pictures out of the magazine.

Another wall, was almost entirely dedicated to Big Time Rush, which James didn't mind in the slightest. If he had it his way more of her space would be dedicated to the band - or more accurately - himself. It was almost impossible to miss the separation between posters with all four members, and the posters and articles just featuring himself.

Which BTR boy will make your heart sing this spring? One of the pages on the wall asked. Unlike the poster pages, this one was a quiz, and the familiar markings of Roxy's favorite red pen traced a line down the answers until it circled his face at the bottom in a big, roughly sketched heart.

Instead of focusing on the rising heat in his cheeks, he ran his finger over the mustache she'd drawn on Carlos, the chunky glasses on Logan, and the unibrow she'd given Kendall.

Another one was tacked up to the right, Do you have flames with James?

That one was new, and the cheesiness of the title made him chuckle. Of course she does...

When his eyes landed on her bookshelf, it was riddled with all of the paranormal romance books she'd said Jo and Camille had recommended to her.

"For studying," she'd say every time they passed by the bookstore on Hollywood Boulevard. "One of them is going to land a role in the movie adaptation I just know it."

None of the spines were cracked, and a bit of guilt panged in his chest. Big Time Rush kept her far too busy to ever sit down and get through any one of her books. In front of the books on the small lip of the shelf sat a row of photos she, Jo, and Camille had taken at a photo booth at one of the New Town High cast parties. Presumably, it was to be used as a bookmark.

The row below was filled with leatherbound journals, just like the one Roxy wrote all of her songs in.

When he'd asked about her massive collection the first time he'd noticed it, she'd cast her eyes to the floor and twirled a strand of her long hair around her finger.

"I've been journaling since I was a kid... So, I've got like a million of them..."

It wasn't something she'd expanded on after that, but he knew one day she'd be comfortable enough to share them, and for now, that was enough.

Crash!

Something hit the tiled floor in the bathroom, and Roxy let out a loud string of curses.

"Everything okay?" James asked, head whirling toward the closed door to the bathroom behind him, all but ready to break it down if needed.

His girlfriend let out a loud sigh, and his heart jumped into his throat, "Yeah..." She sounded frustrated and sucked in a breath. "Dropped my eyeshadow palette."

"Want a hand?" He stepped closer to the bathroom, before the writing desk by the door caught his eye.

"...No, thanks though." Roxy's voice still came out like a deflated balloon. "I appreciate it."

A handful of guitar picks were scattered out over the desk, all a thick celluloid, and he took one and turned it over between his fingers. Both her electric and acoustic guitars were on stands next to the dark wooden structure - her keyboard on the other side as well.

Beside the picks was her tape player, tons of crumpled-up music sheets, various red pens, and a rhyming dictionary.

He'd never seen her pick the large book up, but the spine was so worn parts of the flimsy paper surface were nearly falling off, so he leaned in to get a better look.

New Rhyming Dictionary and Poets Handbook the cover read, despite the state of it suggesting it was anything but "new." A small black script in the lower right confirmed his suspicions: 1990 edition.

James knew she was a fan of thrift shopping, but she didn't typically buy much but clothing, music, and magazines second-hand.

Dropping the pick, his fingers reached the worn cover, and carefully flipped it open to the title page, which read the same as the cover. But, directly underneath, the scratchings of a bright blue pen read Declan Somerset.

Like father, like daughter. James realized, though the thought of Declan sent a small shiver down his spine. That guy sure was intimidating... but, at times, shared the same bright eyes as his daughter. They even laughed similarly, he'd learned last time Declan had come to visit, and Carlos said something so hilarious Dec had nearly fallen out of his chair.

"Just one more minute!" Roxy called, from the bathroom, and James was shaken out of his memory.

He nodded, even though she couldn't see him, and planted himself down on the edge of her bed to wait the final few moments he'd have in her space before - if he was lucky - he'd find himself sneaking in later.

Setting his hand down to lean backward a bit, his hand hit something large and fuzzy.

James' brow furrowed. Sir Cuddle Bug...

The gigantic, stuffed rottweiler puppy Roxy had stolen from teen idol photographer Marcos Del Posey, was flopped out, belly down, on her perfectly made bed.

Sir Cuddle Bug was, in James' opinion, way too big and took up way too much of Roxy's attention. He was so prominently displayed in the center of her room, and she held him tightly in her arms every night while she slept...

He'd even brought it up to Kendall, Carlos, and Logan, trying to figure out of he was crazy to be jealous of a stuffed animal, and they'd just laughed in his face as he tried to explain he felt like competition to the stupid dog.

But, Roxy loved that thing so much. It was clear it held more weight to her than just being a stuffed toy - or a competitive figure - because of where it came from. He could never ask her to get rid of a reminder from one of their first weeks in Hollywood, especially after how much it took for Big Time Rush to finally find the stability they take comfort in now.

So, instead, he slapped the dog in the face, and that made him feel much better.

Silently, the singer chuckled to himself. Take that, you stupid thing. Cuddling with my girlfriend... What a joke...

For that, he punched Sir Cuddle Bug's huge snout. Then his fat body. And took one of his paws in his hands and roughly dragged it back and forth across the black blanket Roxy'd brought out in anticipation of the cooling winter temperature.

In fact, James had gotten so tangled up in his imaginary battle with the stuffed animal, that he'd barely registered the sound of a heeled shoe tapping on the tiled bathroom floor as Roxy made her way to the door. It took everything in him to try and right Sir Cuddle Bug once more, to make it look like no foul play had occurred while she wasn't looking.

Hastily, he stood up and threw the dog back onto the center of the bed, using both of his hands to smooth the blanket down over her red duvet, heart pounding.

When the door sprung open, he whirled around, hands behind his back, and took in the sight of her as a small, thump emanated from behind him.

Roxy's darkly shadowed eyes blew wide.

Obviously, James smirked ruffling the sport coat he'd picked out for tonight, she's stunned at how handsome I look.

"Aww," His girlfriend cooed, pitching her voice up, and fanned his already large ego just a bit bigger. Taking a few hurried steps in her tall heels, she threw her arms out as she approached him, purple dress glittering, and James braced for impact... Before she blew right past him to scoop up Sir Cuddle Bug from the puddle held crumpled into on the carpet. "Did you take a widdle fall?"

Dragging his hands down his face, James sighed as he watched her place him back in the center of her bed. Damn that ugly dog...

hehe <3 inspired by a conversation @naquey / @ithinkyouhealedmyheart and i had last night :)

[tmwcs]

"Play Ball" - HHP Drabble/SMAU

inspired by the lovely @iamliacamila.

MDNI18+ only due to some of the language and verbiage relating to smut/smut acts.

Warnings: mostly hardcore fluff.

Parking the car, Heeseung effortlessly backs in his car into a single space as he steers with just one hand. Whistling a tune, he grabs his keys and phone, making his way out to meet up with Jake and H/n at the bleachers. It was an exciting night for him, all because the love of his life, his precious Y/N was slated to fill in a spot in the college's volleyball tournament since one of the girls had injured her ankle and couldn't play.

A ding comes in on his phone, checking the message, he sees that Jake had reserved his spot at the very front of the bleachers.

"Hmph....atta boy." he smirks out as he texted back. It really was a shock to everyone the moment you announced that you were asked to fill in the spot after the volleyball captain had reviewed everyone's admissions packages and noticed that you had dabbled into playing volleyball as a side hobby. Who would have thought that they were sincerely ask you to try out and show them your moves, to which they were impressed enough to quickly ask you to join them.

.........

"Hey babe, the volleyball captain asked me to fill in for them on their next game because one of their girls got injured."

".......You play volleyball?" he raises a brow and looks at you, slowly and subtly biting his lower lip, no doubt imagining you in uniform with a loose ponytail and sweaty strands of hair plastered all over your face and neck.

"I played a little bit during summer camps and just with friends....a little during high school. Nothing too serious."

"Ooooh...." he issued out in an intrigued tone as he held on to your waist.

"You wanna come watch me play? They told me the front bleachers are always reserved for the teams family and friends."

"I would LOVE to come watch you play."

"Okay! I invited H/n to bring Jake and come watch too."

"Sounds good baby."

..................

It all did sound good.....except Heeseung had undermined the fact that you not only looked good in that uniform.....you looked out of this world.

".....Holy....fucking.....shit......"

"Hey Heeseung! We're right here!" Jake waves him down, to which Heeseung quickly glanced over and issued a quick nod but turned back to look over at you, the stunning beauty that stood out in the middle of the sand pit, to which he delightfully admired as he walks up to the front of the bleachers. He knew that you'd look good but he may have underestimated just how 'good' you would actually look.....considering he's seen you decked down with cocktail dresses and those little skirts with the matching tops that you wore in hot weather, or those beautiful form fitting summer dresses that he loves seeing you in. He swears that each time he thought you couldn't look any better....you would prove him wrong.....SO WRONG.

With the shorts riding up and showing off the bare curves of your rear cheeks, your supple round bottom looking so plump and firm and just begging for him to sink his teeth into. Not to mention the crop top that you adorned which.....was evident in displaying that you weren't wearing a bra.

He was too enamored to even get mad at the fact that you were showing off so much skin in front of a large crowd, your hair was in a somewhat high pony tail, with loose strands surrounding your face and adorning your neckline. The kneecap protectors wrapped around those knee high socks made your legs look even more delectable. Thoughts of him ramming into you with just those socks on was all he could see as he watched you stretched and rotate your joints, getting ready to play ball.

"Oh my fucking God....my fucking dick......I'm gonna fucking cu-"

"Hey bro! We're over here, come on!" Jake interrupts as he taps on Heeseung's shoulder, snapping the man out of his highly sexualized and zoned state.

Following his friend, Heeseung sits down and with both legs set in a man spread position, he places both hands on his face, sandwiching his nose as his fingers cover up his eyes. He leans back and takes in deep breaths and sighs, he looked as if he was struggling with a headache or perhaps was dehydrated. Noticing, H/N, while sitting in between Heeseung and Jake, reaches over for a bottled water and taps it over to Heeseung.

"You must be dehydrated, here drink some water. We brought a whole cooler."

"Thanks...." Heeseung merely speaks out as calm as ever, his lids heavy from the harsh rub of his finger tips as he leans back over with his head tilted towards the sky. Maybe he shouldn't have been sitting with his legs man-spreading so wide, since it was taking up so much sitting space, yet he didn't care.....he also didn't want to move. Not even for an inch...unless it was to take you away.

Setting his gaze at you once again, from under the hood of his cap, he twirls his tongue in his mouth, parting it slightly open as he scoffs out a quiet growl. It wasn't until you had stood upright, placed both legs together and bent over, straight legged, getting a good calf stretch out.

"FUCK YOU Y/N!!! OH MY GOD....."

Venting out, he reaches for his phone...

Finally, the game starts. Everyone cheered, boo'd, and launched off a series of hyped up yells as they watched the teams go at it. Of course you would ignite the crowd with your impressive display of finesse and agility as you leaped and lunged, containing perfect form.....with that perfect body that Heeseung could not take his eyes off of. While everyone stood up and cheered, he remained seated and glared from under the shadows of his cap, his arms crossed with one hand propped up as he placed it over his mouth.

While it wasn't seen by anyone else, Jake, being the attentive best friend he was, noticed Heeseung's odd behavior.

Stretching out his jaw, Heeseung stretched out his neck....

From left....

*Crack*

To right....

*Crack*

To back.....

*Crack*

and back to center....

*Crack*

Mouthing silently, Jake looks over to Heeseung's direction and mimic's the words "What are you doing???"

Raising his hands, Jake shakes his head as he starts noticing the other habit that Heeseung began displaying right after got over the jaw clenching and teeth gritting....

Standing up, Heeseung shifted his body and began to take his steps away when both Jake and H/N grabbed on to him, pleading him to stay.

Fortunately the crowd was all standing and flaring their signs left to right, cheering your team on.

During a small time out called by the coach, you ran over to the team seats to grab some water before joining in on the huddle. When all of a sudden the players, and your coach started to remark the abrasive behavior of someone in the stands that was yelling back at two people.

Looking over, you saw Heeseung, seemingly looking as if he was being stopped by both Jake, and H/n. You didn't know what they were trying to stop him from doing, but it was adorable to see H/N on one side, grabbing on to Heeseung's hand as he would lift, having her small and petite frame dangle in mid air as she hangs on for dear life onto his strong forearms, while Jake was on the other side, where Heeseung was facing, with his arm around Heeseung's shoulder trying to calm him back down to his seat.

"Come on bro, just sit down. Take deep breaths man."

"Yeah! What Jake said! Oh my God i'm going to fall, hurry up and lower your arm Ethan! I'm barely able to hold on! Geez you mutant, how can you hold my body up in mid air for so long? Ah!"

With H/N's grip slipping from Heeseung's strong forearm, and Jake losing grip of Heeseung's shoulder, you smirked as you gulped down water from the bottle. Your players urge you to go and ease the man, knowing his reputation yet were too intimidated to confront him themselves, to include your coach.

Running up to the fence, you lean against it and call out to him.

"Heeseung! Heeseung baby, come to me, please."

Snapping his head over to the sound of your voice, his eyes were wide as his lips began to part ways, releasing a silent gasp.

"Pretty baby......she.....came to me......"

Jake and H/n's faces signaled expressions of distressed and exhaustion, yet were so relieved to see you nearby, ready to tame the beast.

Jake retracts his arm from Heeseung's shoulder, while the latter reaches over with his free arm and grabs H/N by the waist.

"Oh!" H/N gasps out as she feels her tiny frame being levitated by Heeseung's strong grip and his staggering height, holding onto her as if she was a teddy bear or a doll. Shifting towards his best friend, Heeseung hands her over to Jake, who takes her in his grip just the same and cradles her on his lap, feeling relieved that she was back down on ground level once more.

Leaping forward, Heeseung gets up to the low fence and leans his frame against it, reaching over the top to hold your hands in his. Admiring your face, he starts to move the loose strands that remained stuck to your skin from all the sweat.

"Baby.....you're really killing it out there....." cupping your cheek, he smirks out from under his cap as he gently wipes the excess sweat from your neck.

"I'm glad you think so." you chuckled. "Game wont be too long, will you stay here and continue to watch me play? You're like my good luck charm, I can't play well without your support." You smiled out.

".....Pretty baby......you need me....don't you?"

"I always need you Heeseung....you too Ethan."

Watching as his beady eyes slightly darken, you watch as his face shift to reflect "Heethan".

Reaching over, you gently caress his face, to which he slightly shifts over and takes your thumb into his mouth and gives a subtle nibble, along with a scoff as you both smiled to each other.

"My Heeseung....my Ethan."

"My Y/n....."

"Wait here for me?"

"I'll wait here for you......but when you're done....you're mine."

"Deal handsome."

Leaning over the fence, you place your hand on the back of his neck and gently pull him in for a kiss. To which he melted into the moment your lips touched.

"Come on Y/N, time out is up!"

Breaking the kiss, you looked into his eyes and bite your lip slightly.

"Try not to stare too hard....mmkay?" you playfully chuckled.

"No promises."

Turning away, you wave over to him as you ran back to your spot on the sand pit.

With a satisfied smile on his face, Heeseung nearly collapsed backwards onto the bleachers, with Jake and H/N gently catching his fall and helping him to a soft landing.

"Geez! What happens to him when he's around her babe?"

Jake merely shakes his head. "Too much babe.....too much..."

"Too much of what?"

"Love."

Noticing the bewitched look on his friend's face, Jake begins to fan him as H/N grabs another bottle water.

Too much love.....for his darling y/n.