#this is not recent but i've been holding onto it for a tag

[marchsfreakshow]

The Small Things [Tate Langdon]

Tooth rotting fluff ! / A little short thing

Tate was practically almost always over, but never failed to make you feel like you were special.

Everyone thank @marchsfreak for giving me this cute ass idea! I genuinely love it and find it adorable<3 I'm so sorry this took so long, i've been feeling dreadful recently. (So my writing isn't up to my normal standards sorry-)

Not proofread lol

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tate loved being held by you.

Possibly the only thing he could love anymore.

You were scooped up into his arms whenever possible, and stay like that for as long as you humanly could. Wether or not you were straddling him and just playing with his shirt, or Tate was laying in front of you, letting your arms wrap around his torso. It never failed to make the ghost smile. It was all he craved, more than anything, in the drab murder house.

"Tate!" You squealed, your arms instinctvely wrapping around his shoulders to keep yourself hoisted up. Tate's response was just a little chuckle and a wider smile, since your laugh was all he wanted to hear right now. He tightened his grip on your body and legs, walking around the dim basement. Each time you felt his hands, even jokingly, start to loosen under you, your grip on his shoulders and neck tightened, curling up best you could by his chest. "You actually get off on this! This is just cruel..."

"not cruel at all! I like feeling you up close and personal." The ghost chuckled again, almost curling you like some weights just because. As much as you enjoyed being lifted like it was nothing, your mother soon called your name from the top of the basement.

Begrudgingly, Tate let you go, holding onto the small of your back as he let you stand up. His fingers still lingered on your shirt as you started to walk back up to the house. The talk realistically only lasted about 5 minutes, but to the ghost it felt like forever. Time always went so much slower, when you were dead. As soon as the idea came into Tate's head, he silently jumped his way up the stairs, hiding himself behind the open door.

"I'm back." You started, starting to make your way down the creaky steps. There was silence for a moment and it only confused you. "Tate?" You asked down into the dim, dingy basement. Every step only worried you further. As you walked down, you took a deep breath, assuming Tate was about to pull something that could scare you. Like usual.

As soon as your foot stepped on the basement floor, Tate's arms scoped you up. His arms wrapping around your front tightly and lifting you up effortlessly. Your feet suddenly leaving the ground made a scream evict from your mouth. "OH MY GOD TATE-!" A sly smile was felt against your neck as your hands gripped onto the ghost's arms tightly. "Put me downnn!" You whined a bit with your legs still in the air for a second.

Instead of a verbal response, Tate just placed you down on the old couch, immediately laying himself on top of you. His face hiding in your neck. The ghost's arms rested on your shoulders as your own snaked around his back. One hand slowly starting to pet at his hair, the other rubbing his back. "You happy now you weird blondie?"

"Very." He murmered, putting a kiss to your neck.

"yeah? Good.." You muttered back, placing a kiss back onto Tate's hair. It only took a few minutes of the sweet silence between you before the ghost promptly fell asleep. "Who knew ghosts were so sleepy all the time hm?" You teased to no one, as Tate barely hummed in reply, snuggling himself closer to you. If he wasn't close enough already to be honest.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx

[elavoria]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @sheirukitriesfandom, thank you! I tag @dirty-bosmer and @nostalgic-breton-girl. : )

In which Isanna and Regill team up to discombobulate Renth at the barricade of the Threshold camp:

“Knight Commander, if I may make a personal inquiry,” he requested. “Of course,” she said again. “What do you want to know?” “I cannot help but observe that Regill Derenge still numbers among your companions,” he said with genuine confusion, “and not simply among them, but in a position of honor at your side, even after he so thoroughly attempted to discredit you. Why is that? I understand his martial capabilities are exemplary, but I would not have expected… Perhaps it is because you are keeping a close watch on him?” By the time he was finished, she was smiling so much that he was frowning in confusion, which only added to her amusement. “It’s because I love him,” she said softly. His eyes widened in surprise; for several moments he was simply lost for words, and her own eyes twinkled with mirth as she heard familiar footsteps approaching in his silence. “I see,” he said, and although he had recovered himself enough to speak, he still didn’t seem to be over the shock. “And does he… return that love?” “He does,” Regill said, coming to a stop at her side. His eyes were locked on Renth’s, his lips curved into a mischievous little smile, and it took all of her willpower not to laugh. “In love, Derenge?” the paralictor asked, seemingly unsure whether to be more incredulous or judgmental. “First that disaster of a tribunal, and now… this? Has the Bleaching finally addled your brain?” “On the contrary,” Regill answered easily, still smiling, “my Bleaching has been steadily reversing.” Renth’s eyes flicked up to Isanna’s as if to ask if this was some sort of joke; when she offered no explanation, he looked back down at Regill in consternation, and she finally gave in to her laughter.

[mythvoiced]

@stillresolved | ♥

---

Diana has survived and manned countless situations the meeker side of the living would rather not even dream of ever being a part of - and those that do, do it with a sense of violent underestimation of what it is they'd actually be getting themselves into.

Nonetheless, she somehow finds this a much stronger struggle instead: her frown is already constricting into one resembling the outwardly recognizable signs of onset headaches.

All in the details, isn't a crime a crime? Can there be good intentions behind a crime? How can a world spin at a proper tempo if crimes suddenly become circumstantial in their deserving of that definition.

More than anything, her speaking companion's nonchalance is seemingly the most intense aspect here. Something about being met with half the energy, a look in those eyes that insinuate she's waiting a recognizable pattern of behaviours out, as if simply waiting for Diana to be done, Diana doesn't like feeling like she isn't in control of the situation.

She isn't in control here.

It's that odd, sneaking suspicion into the subconscious that you might actually be wrong, like hot embarrassing and violent acid burning at the pride of someone as likely to ignite as Diana.

"I understand evidence," she says, as if personally offended by the insinuation she might not understand having to prove a crime has been committed. "Which book is irrelevant. The crime is the relevant aspect. All I have to say is 'a book was stolen' and then retrieve it. It being in possession of you would be the evidence."

Accusation and punishment becomes very easy if you never walk in someone else's shoes.

"Intentions don't make a crime no crime. There are other ways to provide for someone who needs it, though possessing a book would qualify as a luxury, don't you think."

[shomixremix]

THE ALTAR OF ADORATION ♥︎

recently i've been getting more and more into my zhongli brainrot (even though he's been one of my fav characters since forever lol) so here you all go!!

oh also tysm for over 1k notes, 100+ reblogs and 50 new followers!! you guys are the best <3 i really didn't expect that kind of support on my last post - turns out everyone likes some dragon men!! so i decided to write some more, here you lovelies go!!

tags: Zhongli, female! reader, dragon! zhongli, religious themes, sacrificial offering, smut, fluff, mating, breeding, creampie, monsterfucking

-> you have been chosen as a sacrifice to the great geo lord rex lapis, during a period where everyone believed he was mad at mortals. scared for your life and trembling, you now realize there was another problem troubling lord morax.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI

great lord rex lapis roamed the earths and heavens for centuries, ruling the land of geo and its people through the thick and thin. they were very devoted followers, obeying his every wish.

however, the height of his reign has long passed, and people simply stopped caring about their archon. until recently.

crops began to wither, mines dried out, contracts were getting broken left and right - rex lapis has had enough of their careless behavior. his people have disappointed him, and this was a sign of his fury. if something wasn't to change, he would abandon them completely.

the people of liyue decided to recommit to their religion, prepared to offer the geo lord a sacrifice of any kind, just so he'd once again bless them. you, even though born in a time where people lost their respect for the geo lord, have always been a devoted follower, praying to him each day and leaving flowers and beautiful crystals under his statue of the seven.

already being a believer of the geo archon, you were chosen as the ceremonial sacrifice.

while nobody knew where rex lapis resided, the site of the ceremony was chosen to be on mt. hulao. as the crowds of people gathered from all over liyue around the lake on the top of the mountain, you stood in front of them, shaking. while you were a follower of morax, you didn't feel it was right to die for the sins of your people.

"it's time to pay our sacrifise!" yelled one of the townsfolk, holding your wrist in an iron grip as he he slit your palm with a sharp knife. you screamed out in pain as maroon blood dripped down your hand. the man who slit your hand placed a valuable cor lapis stone in it, watching as the orange stone quickly became stained with your red blood.

you held your breath as they placed you on the highest point of the mountain and pushed you off, chanting morax's name over and over.

falling seemed to last centuries, even though it was just seconds. you waited and waited for your body to hit the ground, tightening your hold on the cor lapis and in your head praying:

"rex lapis, if you're here, if you hear my prayer, please, i beg you, save me!"

suddenly, your feel onto something, tightly closing your eyes. was this... death?

you open your eyes and realize this wasn't any kind of afterlife - in fact, you were very much still alive, spread on top of the back of a large dragon. your mortality was confirmed by the sharp pain you still felt in your left hand.

"..r-rex l-lapis..?"

the dragon stayed quiet as you clutched his mane, holding on to him for dear life. he only let you get down once you were inside a large cave, seeming like it wasn't a part of the human world - no, this had to be an adepti realm.

an uneducated mortal maybe wouldn't be certain just who was standing between them, but you knew oh so very well. his goldenish brown scales, the big, honey-colored eyes and the tail which ended in a mosaic of clouds all gave him away. standing before you was the geo archon, the adeptus who saved your life even though you were a peace offering.

he stayed quiet, removing you from his back like it was nothing and moving to a completely different side of the cave, laying down on the cold ground with his back turned to you.

he was in no mood to talk, you knew, but you had to thank him for saving your life.

"lord morax..?"

he grumbled in response, steam coming out of his large nostrils.

"i cinserely thank you for saving my life... i was supposed to be a mere sacrifise, yet you still showed me mercy.. i.. just, thank you so much.."

the second the word "sacrifise" leaves your lips rex lapis perks up, turning to you with frantic eyes. he grabs your hand to inspect the still slightly bleeding cut, tearing a piece of your skirt to wrap around your wound as a bandage. morax tightly ties it, then quickly moves from you.

"it should stop the bleeding," he grumbled low, never turning to look at you, almost as if he was completely uninterested, "i will bring you to the villege tomorrow, little mortal. now sleep. your body needs rest"

how could you rest after such a traumatic experience? after almost having your life, all your hopes and dreams, unfairly thorn from you?

"no, i.. i can't return! they will all know that i failed, that i wasn't the sacrifise they all needed to save liyue from your punishment!"

morax huffs, his tail hitting the ground with a loud thump.

"then you can tell them all that i do not wish for a sacrifise. spilling innocent human blood is not only unecessary but also completely repulsive to me."

your eyes widen as he says this, your body instinctively moving a little closer to him: "you.. do not wish for a sacrifise, my lord? then how should we repay you for our sins? how can we ever make you forgive us for losing our faith in you..?"

rex lapis growls lowly, his body tightening like he was in some kind of discomfort or pain.

"the lack of my blessing isn't for the reasons your kind believes," he growled, "i'm not upset at you humans. now sleep." you knew well that that was an order, and an order coming from an archon must always be obeyed. yet, you didn't, scooting closer to him.

"the only thing to be upset about is that they sent you as the offering. how unfair it is to send one of my most devoted followers to die for my amusement.."

you hold your breath, afraid that he was actually considering killing you.

"i've recieved all the little treasures you leave out for me and have heard your every word. you're a persistant little one, aren't you?" even though you couldn't see him, you could feel the smirk on his face.

the knowledge that he has seen and heard how you worship him makes your heart thump loudly in your chest, a pool of pride and flusterness swirling in your belly.

suddenly, morax smells the air sharply, then started writhing on the ground in pain, cursing out a deep yet broken"fuck..!".

"are you in pain, my lord? can i do something to help?" you ask eagerly, wishing to help your saviour.

"move away!" he roared, steam coming out of his mouth. "go to sleep and stop talking to me when i ask, mortal!"

you frigtenedly to as told, laying down on the ground and turning away from him, squeezing your eyes shut. suddenly, you hear little muffled whines and cries coming from him, which immediately makes you look at him again.

his large head is completely flushed red, his lungs heaving up and down quickly. he panted out short little puffs of air, his eyes bloodshot ready and his body trembling slightly. you didn't know what was wrong with him, he acted like some kind of a wild animal in a rut-

"lord morax, are you.. in a rut..?" it was a shameful question to ask the archon, yet your curiosity got the better of you.

he huffed out, more and more in pain with every passing minute. "i haven't... hah... i haven't been in centuries... it's inevitable i go through it every couple of hundred years..."

morax groans, visibly in a lot of discomfort.

"and of course that when i'm in a rut they just have to send me a gorgeous woman as a sacrifice to worsen my state..."

your cheeks darken as he murmurs this, blood rushing to your head.

"how do i worsen your state..?"

"your arousal" he rasps, "i can smell it, little mortal. i can smell you, and it's torture. it pains every muscle in my body to resist you, but i have to; it's my duty"

your heart aches at his words.

"i can help" you breathe, unsure what you were even offering. his sharp eyes turn to you, piercing you with his gaze.

"no", his answer is short but stern, "i could kill you, i could harm you and leave you not remembering your own name. i cannot do that to my most devoted follower. not to you, y/n"

your heart stops, dropping to your feet.

"how do you know my name...?"

he groans as he explains: "i often wander around the mortal world in my human form, to feel closer to your kind... i have met you a couple of times during your prayer at the statue of the seven. i cannot use your pure body to breed when i know how much respect and hope you have in me. it would be betrayal to you, and you would never see me, nor my human form, the same"

"it pains me to see my archon in pain" you whisper as you get closer to the large dragon, your stomach stirring. you gently touch the scales down his back and feel how he shivers under your touches.

"i want... i want to help you, if i can... i want to help you through this.. you have helped me through the darkest points in my life, and even though i don't know who your human form is, i have a feeling i'm close to you even then... i just desire to help you, lord morax..."

"do you even understand what kind of help i need? what i will do to you if you allow me?"

you smile, running your hands through his shiny mane.

"yes, i understand. use me however you like, my lord."

his self control snaps, big paws pinning you down on the ground. he's panting like a dog as he nuzzles his head against your neck, tearing the rest of your skirt off. only left in a pair of underwear and a thin shirt, you tremble under the archon's touches.

"hm.. such a beautiful mortal..." he hums as he tears the rest of your cloth from your body, leaving you completely bare. you try to cover yourself with your arms, yet morax grabs them and pins them by your sides.

his large mouth comes in contact with your skin, licking, kissing and biting as he moved down. morax grazes your skin with his teeth, never biting down hard enough to draw blood from your veins. you had already done your sacrifice, more blood wasn't needed. his tounge moves from your neck to your exposed breast, swirling around your hard nipples, earning a little whimper from you.

then, he moves even lower, nipping at your stomach. he forces your tighs apart, burying his large head to your folds and forcing you to hold on to him by his horns. rex lapis tastes you eagerly, lapping up any slick your body oh so willingly gave him. you moaned and whined as he fucked you with his tounge, making you come almost instantly.

"ohhhh!! m-morax~ ahh..." you moan as he helps you through it, sharply tugging on your sensitive clit with his sharp teeth, always careful not to hurt you.

"celestia" he sighs into your slick folds, earning a tremble from you. "you taste devine, my dear. i haven't enjoyed such a sweet taste in centuries"

he shows you no mercy and continues to eat you out as if you were his last meal, one paw holding down your wrists and the other secured on your hips, not allowing you to move at all. after about three delicious highs he pulls from your frail body with his tounge, you start begging for the real thing. you knew his rut wouldn't be over unless he fucked you, and you were kinda hoping this torterous foreplay would be over soon...

"m-morax... please.." you whimper, squeezing your legs around his snout. he grumbles low, giving one final lick to your greedy pussy.

"i have to loosen you as much as possible so you could even try to take me. preperations can take up to days."

your eyes open wide and your mouth partens. you couldn't wait days to get him to fuck you, and you certainly didn't know how you'd survive days worth of eating out!

"but i cannot wait that long" he smirks, rubbing your outter tighs and ass. in one swift motion he flips you over so you were on your knees, face down and ass up. you feel his length rubbing up on you; even though you couldn't see him, your eyes went wide in shock. you felt how impossibly large he was, both in size and girth, almost being comparable to your legs.

but another thing surprises you - the head of his cock is poking at your tight entrance, but another thing is poking at your ass! you turn your head in shock, and he reassures you.

"i am different than a mortal, my dear"

you let out a loud scream of his name as he harshly thrusts both of his heavy cocks into you. he thrusts as far as he can, entering your cushy womb from how big he is and almost ripping your ass apart. you scream and cry and writhe yet he doesn't budge, letting you get used to him inside you for a few moments before he starts thrusting.

he starts moving without a warning, dragging you back on his cocks. you turn into a sobbing mess as each one of his thrusts so pleasantly tease your g-spot, bullying your tight walls.

"ahh.. ahhh! mphhh! mmphshs! m- mor... ah! ohhh!"

you cry and cry, not even knowing your own name out of so much pleasure. you feel like your holes are completely loose and yet, clamping down on him greedily. he tugs your head back by your hair, snuggling his nuzzle in your neck so you'd hear him better.

"shh, don't cry... you've asked me for this, little mortal. you asked to be fucked like this, hm? look at you, so pretty like this. so no need to cry, you will be fine. i allow you as much pleasure as you need. "

you couldn't stop yourself from coming, squirting your juices all over his cock. he watches this in amusement, fucking into you harder and faster. in one moment, he threw his head back in pleasure, making a loud roar.

"fuck, y/n..." he groaned as you hiccupped your sobs, finally giving a harsh, last thrust and stilling inside. you felt an impossible amount of warmth spread through your body as he filled you with seed, spilling a wave after wave of cum in your womb. he had filled you so much that it spilled from you, leaving you entirely breathless.

as soon as he's done he pulls out, letting you fall to the floor. he picks up your limp body, curling himself around you and cuddling you close.

"it's alright, my dear... you did perfect. you were just devine, and you've felt better than anything i've ever felt in all my years. rest, now. i will take care of the rest tomorrow."

your head hazy, your mind fuzzy with pleasure and your eyes heavy, you lay curled against him and finally get the much needed sleep.

the next morning, you wake up with a human, veined arm around your bare waist.

"there you are... you are too adorable in your sleep" a deep voice said from behind you, and you turned around, expecting to see the geo archon.

yet, you were faced with a man you knew all to well - the man you had deep feelings for ever since he first arrived in liyue harbour.

"mr. zhongli?!"

he hums out a laugh, tightening his hold on you.

"yes, if i'm correct, we've met in my human form a couple of times?"

you blush deeply, reminiscing on the few blissful times you talked to him. he was a very handsome, successful young man, with great wisdom and a clever mind - and you admired him very much, so much that you couldn't help but fall in love.

"you look dissapointed... are you not fond of me after finding out who i am?"

he asks, his gaze softening and looking almost saddened. you quickly reassure him:

"no, no, i'm not dissapointed! more like stunned.." you blush and he notices, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers.

"oh? why is that? i have always assumed we had a fairly good relationship, y/n. you have always been so nice to me"

"i.. i've had feelings for you for quite a while..." you say shyly, almost embarassed of the fact.

his lips curl into a genuinely happy smile, his arms pressing you closer to his bare chest.

"then everything turned out alright"

you smile, but everything suddenly dawns on you - that zhongli seemed to be okay with your feelings for him, that you almost died yesterday as a sacrifice, that zhongli is morax and most importantly, that oh, you fucked the geo archon, in his dragon form no less!

"am i pregnant now..?" you ask quietly, reminded that the act of a rut is mainly to breed and create off-spring. zhongli laughs at your question, leaving a quick peck on your forehead.

"no, most likely not. but you will be, in a few hundred years, once i have to go through this all over again" you almost choke on your own spit as he says this.

"but... i won't be alive in a few hundred years... you will have to find another to help you through this.."

as soon as you mention him sleeping with another woman his face turns into one of disgust, his strong arms gathering your entire body in his hold.

"as my mate, you will live as long as i do, and i'm immortal, my dear."

"your mate?!"

"yes. by helping me through my rut, you have become my mate. of course, only if that's what you wish" he says, pressing a loving kiss to your eyelid. "and do not worry, my dear, dragons mate for life"

he almost purrs into your warm skin, making a referance to what you said about him sleeping with another woman.

"...being your mate.." you sigh, cuddling into his chest.

"it's like what you humans call "relationship" except a stronger bond, sort of an unbreakable contract between the two of us. a forever promise of care, love and loyalty."

"i think i would like that" you humm into his chest, "but, let's take it a little slow?"

he kisses you full of warmth, his hands soothing your sides.

"of course, my dear. i will take you on a proper date when we get back. for now, just lay there and let me thank you properly for your help last evening..." he sighs as he kisses your shoulder over and over again.

yesterday at this time of day you were supposed to be nothing but a sacrifice to the geo lord, and now here you were, getting your body worshiped by him, forever safe and secure in his arms as his mate.

[reidssluttywaist]

Spencer's lap.

In which you grind against your boyfriend.

fem!reader, season 2 Spencer, +16.

tags: dry humping, a little bit of dirtytalk.

a/n: guys this is so bad I've never written smut before but i had this idea while rewatching season 2 and tried something, this must have a bunch of mistakes and it's not proofread at all, also if anyone wants to rewrite this better please message me lol.

You never thought you'd have to sit for a physics class ever again since you left high school, and here you are, a half hour into your boyfriend explaining very throughly to you how he can make a rocket with 'physics magic', he also made you swear you would never tell his tricks to anybody, 'cause a magician never shares his secrets, right?!

Except you didn't get sleepy like you did in high school, you never paid that much attention to physics since now, the way Spencer's smile explains every detail, the giggle he lets out as he rumbles about different facts of all the physics laws, you're amazed by how happy he is, how his brain is extraordinary.

Hearing his humbles is better than any music you could think of, and paired with the soft sound of the rain falling outside Spencer's place, you feel so cozy and safe.

You and Spencer have been together for a couple of months now, he is your first real boyfriend, both of you are inexperienced in every single part of being in a relationship, sometimes the feeling of love you feel towards him overwhelms you, almost leaving you out of breath, you can't believe how good it is to love somebody, how god it is to love Spencer.

"Wow, that one might be your best! Look how high it went" you said after his most recent "rocket" made its way to the ceiling, Spencer smiling so big and laughing, making you laugh as well.

"Did you see that? I think I've perfected my measurements it's so high!!" Spencer says with a high-pitched voice, too excited to contain himself.

"The only bad thing about this is that you have to clean this mess up" You make a sad face, looking at the place that has little bits of water splashed all over.

"Nah, it's fine! It'll dry out soon enough" he says pretending that he doesn't care about the mess, except he does.

"C'mon, I'll help you clean and make us some dinner after, ok?!" You get up from your side of the couch, and hold Spencer's hand, trying to pull him up.

"I don't wanna get up now, it can wait," He says seriously, you can almost believe him.

You try pushing him up again, but this time he pulls you against him, being more successful than you do you end up falling onto him, sitting on his lap facing him.

"I said it can wait, I can clean up later, ok? I wanna spend some time with you now." He said holding your waist and looking at you.

You've never been on his lap before, you guys make out now and then, but never in that suggestive of a position, and Spencer never makes the first move like that, you feel your stomach filling with butterflies.

"You look so good with your glasses on" You blurt it out looking at him, analyzing his face as he looks at you.

"Can I kiss you?" Spencer says, you don't need words to respond as you press your lips onto his, starting a gentle kiss.

You'll never get accustomed to kissing Spencer, his soft lips, he's so gentle almost like he's afraid you'll run away if he makes any sudden moves, little does he know you won't, you'd never run away from him you feel like you could never get enough from him.

The kiss was now way more intense, your tongue exploring his, his grip on your waist a lot tighter now, one of his hands let go of your waist and made its way to the back of your neck, making you let out a soft moan into Spencer's mouth, making his body shiver under you.

Your hips start slightly moving over Spencer's thigh, the light friction making you want more.

Spencer was breathing heavily, and you could also feel him growing against your leg, he pulled you harder against him, adjusting your cunt to be right on top of his cock, applying pressure to your hips, you moan again, and you could feel yourself get wetter by the second.

"Spence, wanna feel you." You say in between kisses, making him whimper and push you harder against him.

"Fuck" he swears under his breath, both of his hands going to the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. "That okay?" he asks.

"Yes, please." You've never agreed to something so fast in your life, helping him take your pants away, after a few seconds of struggling you were back to kissing him like your life depended on it.

"C-can I take yours?" you whisper, almost scared to say it, he agrees by guiding your hand to his waistband, also helping you take his pants now, you were both only with underwear now, not even bothering to take your tops off, you went back to humping him, your thin underwear fabric soaked.

Spencer's shaky hands made their way onto your shirt, both of them massing your breasts, making noises come out of your mouth and the man under you groan.

"N-need more, Spence." You say grinding your hips harder against him, and bring your hands to his underwear pushing it down just enough so his cock is free.

You start to use your hands on him, slow up and down movements just enough so he can't even keep his eyes open.

"Want your pussy, please, wanna feel you" Spencer mumbles taking your hands off his cock, his hand going to your panties and ripping them out.

That made you gasp, making your pussy even more wet.

Spencer positioned you on his cock, which was resting on his stomach, you started moving your hips up and down, both of you moaning even louder now.

"You feel so warm, baby, you're so wet for me," He says, looking at where your bodies are rubbing against each other, he looks mesmerized by this sight, mouth slightly opened as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you shiver.

Spencer never dirty talked like that before, you could see the blush on his cheeks as he did, this new side of him making your mind blurry and a not start to form on your stomach.

"I'm so close," he says, biting his lips as you try to move even harder for him.

"N-eed more, please, your fingers," you say and he immediately knows what you mean, taking one of his hands out of your hips and bringing it to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit with ease, start moving it in circles making you let out a loud moan.

"Fuck" You let out, not able to keep your eyes open.

"Can you cum for me? Please baby wanna see your pretty face as you fuck yourself on me." Spencer says, that added with his movements in your clit make your mind fuzzy, you felt the heat on your stomach spread to your legs and your body starts to shake, releasing all the tension you were feeling.

"Oh, you're so pretty like that, so pretty when you cum for me," Spencer says, helping you ride out your climax, you were so sensitive by the recent orgasms but you started to move your hips harder and faster on Spencer's cock.

He bites his lips and you feel him grip your ass, his glasses were blurry and it was so hot that he didn't take him out.

He groaned when you felt his dick twit under you, you helped him through his orgasm, kissing him when you were both done, his hands when to your back caressing it, slowly moving up and down.

"That was so good" He whispers to you.

"A dirty talker, huh?! Who would've thought?" you joke, making him laugh.

"Most men are dirty talkers so it's not that uncommon" he rumbles.

He switched up to nerdy Spencer again, making you smile.

You spend a couple more minutes just talking before getting up, you make sure to point all that he must buy you a new pair of panties to pay for the one he ripped, he agrees, saying he would buy more than one because "you'll never know what might happen, right?"

[peachsayshi]

₊ ⊹ . ݁ sex worker!suguru geto x rich girl!reader ₊ ⊹ .

⊹ tags: nudity; post-sex; slightly angsty; au

:about: you grew up in a supremely wealthy household, but that came with a price. you've never had control over your own life, and now your father is set to marry you off. distraught by the news, you decide to call your contact for comfort.

:note: I don't know why but I've been thinking about this au a lot recently and I'm completely obsessed. I have so many aus for my faves and really wanted to spend some time exploring them more!

wc: 1,067

"an arranged marriage, huh?" suguru whispers, his sharp eyes dipping to your naked chest while his delicate fingers carefully push the bedsheet further down to your hips.

you inch a little closer into his frame, soaking in the outlines of his chiseled torso and bring one finger to trace little shapes on his broad shoulder. your brows furrow with annoyance, "yeah, you ever heard of the zenin family?"

suguru scoffs, breaking character for only a second. it's something that you've started noticing recently. that he doesn't hold his reactions around you as tightly as he used to. the front of this alter ego that he created has started to falter, but you find yourself drawn to the person existing underneath the mask of the seducer.

you sigh, "my father thinks naoya zenin is a perfect match for me."

an uneasy expression flickers across suguru's face, but he suppresses it before allowing it to linger.

you lift yourself up onto your elbow and rest your head on your palm. "what is it?"

suguru mimics your position, his large hand gliding back and forth over the slope of your hips and waistline. it sends goosebumps all over your body, your mind going back to the first time when you met him in person.

you still vividly remember his reaction. the way his eyes widened, and the quirk of his brow as he addressed you.

"you're young," he blurted.

"we're around the same age," you replied defensively, already feeling insecure for having hired him after you spent weeks watching his videos. you didn't even know about his house calls until you heard it from a source within your social circle. " is this how you greet all your clients?"

suguru boldly checks you out, "my other clients don't look like you..."

over time you learned that he catered to a specific demographic: older divorcees and cheating housewives.

the person you might turn into twenty years from now if this marriage goes through.

a knot forms in your stomach.

"I've heard that naoya..." suguru explains, pinching the pads of his fingers lightly against your flesh before leaning forward to kiss the crease between your brows. "can be a handful to deal with..."

you thread your fingers around his neck, your lips finding his jaw where you return a kiss. "and who told you that?" you murmur, as the weight of suguru's body rolls on top of yours.

a wicked smile ticks at the corners of his lips, and you're staring at his devastatingly handsome face from below. the longer you spent time with him the more you began to wonder about his circumstances.

the same thought constantly crosses your mind time and time again.

suguru could truly be anything he wanted but instead he was here making a killing off of fucking lonely women and making porn videos.

you aren't here to judge his choices, but you can't help but feel puzzled by the situation.

his smile gives you the answer. his source regarding naoya zenin thanks to a client, but suguru has a confidentiality policy and shares nothing about the other women he beds.

you shiver when his mouth meets your neck, his lips sucking along the tender skin that sends goosebumps all over your chest but there's an ache in your heart when you consider that if it wasn't for the signed cheque in your purse, he wouldn't even be here in the first place.

not a single man you've met in the world compares to suguru. not only was he beautiful beyond comprehension, but he had striking charm and was extremely smart. you found yourself enjoying his company beyond physical purposes, and conversations with him turned out to be one of your favorite ways to pass time.

"think we'll still get together when you're a missus?" he teases, his lips trailing lower to your collar bones and hovering just a above your breasts covered with the hickeys that he's left.

the thought of getting married makes you sick.

"do you peg me as a terrible wife? a woman who would happily cheat on her husband?" you question, your voice small and trembling when suguru circles his lips around your hard nipple.

he hums, drawing out a whimper when he nips at the bud lightly.

"no," he answers, his voice dropping an octave and your mind swirls when you contemplate if that strange tone is actually jealousy. he rests his chin on your chest, his inky hair framing his face in a waterfall of obsidian. "I do, however, peg naoya as a terrible husband"

you sink your fingers into his locks. "it doesn't matter who my father chooses, they are all the same. naoya is no worse than the rest. I'm trapped regardless..."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," suguru responds sincerely, the sweetness in his voice the reason why your eyes prick with tears.

you sniffle, using your free hand to wipe away a rogue droplet freely falls down your cheek. suguru softens his expression, adjusting his position so he was laying by your side. he doesn't say anything but draws you into his chest for a hug, enveloping you in his warmth. you try hard not to consider the reality of the situation, and accept the gesture freely as you cuddle against him.

the moment of peace is interrupted by a loud vibration. you and suguru both perk up to stare at his phone buzzing on the side table.

your heart sinks.

another client.

suguru reaches his arm around to grab the phone, and you close your eyes as you inhale his natural scent, trying to soak him in for as long as you can. but to your surprise he simply switches it off, and wraps his arm back around you to return to his position.

"you sure you don't need to take that?" you mumble, trying to play off your disappointment as casually as possible.

"I'm booked out for the rest of the evening," he answers nonchalantly, "there's no reason to respond."

a flutter in your belly sends a tingle all over your skin. "but...your cheque only covers the hours we agreed on..."

two fingers touch the underside of your chin, and suguru tilts your head up so you were both face to face again. "don't worry about it, doll," he consoles, his thumb lightly outlining your bottom lip, "this is on the house."

[irisintheafterglow]

Hey there!

Saw your requests were open (if it isnt,just ignore this)

But i just love your satoru x reader and co parenting megumi????and i would KILL to see like, something bad happening to reader (like a mission going wrong,she passing out or getting sick or all) and boys just panicking cause satoru loves reader,and megumi sees her as his mother???

Sorry,im a sucker for hurt/comfort trope

Lots of love!!! you're amazing!

aww this is so cute, thank you for the request anon <3 wrote it as sick fic instead of injury since i,,,, have written like 3 things with that trope recently so let's do a fluffy sick fic instead lol. hope you like it :))

cw/tags: established relationship (pet names babe, baby, sweetheart), gn!reader, some explicit language, mention of eating

"the kid thinks you're gonna die," your boyfriend says as he enters your room, setting a grocery bag on your desk and digging around for the bottle of orange juice. "you're starting to worry me too, honestly."

"i'm not gonna die, babe; i think it's just the flu," you groan, propping yourself on an elbow and attempting to sit up. you're unsuccessful, the throbbing in your head and the chills in your arms too overwhelming. you fall back against the pillow with a less-than-ceremonial thump. satoru crouches in front of you, eyebrows drawn and forehead wrinkled in concern. he pulls down his blindfold and you're met with the bright blue eyes you loved so much.

"yep. looks like you're dying soon," he declares with a curt nod and you scoff, a chuckle turning into an aggressive fit of coughing. satoru is lightning-quick, grabbing a new bottle of water and snapping off the cap before holding it up to your lips. "here, drink." you push his hands away, wordlessly insisting that you can drink on your own while still hacking relentlessly. "nuh-uh, just let me help you." with a frown, you let him tilt the bottle toward you and take a few careful sips. "you are frustratingly stubborn," he sighs.

"i have to be if i need to deal with you all the time," you joke hoarsely, sips of water becoming gulps.

"yeah, but you love me for it," he finishes and you agree with a shrug. "easy, there," he warns as you keep downing the water. "don't want you choking again."

"i'm fine, satoru."

"you've been working yourself too much, you know."

"hypocrite," you counter and he frowns, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. you were right, even though he didn't want to admit it. satoru was always the first one to say that someone was working too hard, just to take the burden for himself. it was a red flag, you said a few weeks ago over convenience store sushi; you also noted his 'concerningly inflated ego, lack of spatial awareness, and general disinterest in things that could be momentarily unpleasant.' you'd finished it, though, with a long-winded comment about how his red flags, in all their scarlet glory, made satoru himself. maybe it was just his melodrama, but he'd cut off his hand if it meant you were able to joke like that again.

"i'm serious. i think your body's shutting down because-"

"because i've been away too long, i know. i don't need a lecture right now, satoru." you swallow the last of the water and settle back onto your pillow, grumbling when you feel the side of your bed sink with your boyfriend's weight. "baby, you're gonna get sick, too."

"that means i get to take a day or two off," he points out, fitting his face into the divot between your shoulder and neck. despite your complaints, he throws off the comforter and replaces the blankets with his arms. "don't grrrr me, babe. you need to burn off your fever and i run warmer than any of these sheets."

"aren't i sweaty and stinky and yucky? how can you be touching me when i'm all gross?"

"you mean, how can i love on you right now when you're just being a human?"

"mhmm. you don't find it gross?"

"of course not, sweetheart," he reassures you with a kiss to your shoulder. "i'd be a real dickhead if i only loved you when you were feeling 100%."

"yeah, you're only half a dickhead for other reasons," you murmur into the pillowcase and he laughs, the sound reverberating against your back. before your eyes settle shut, you catch the door of your room opening and vaguely make out a messy head of black hair peeking around the corner. "megs?"

"oi, adults only," the other occupant of the bed threatens, pulling you closer and attempting to flip you to your other side to face him. you unbuckle satoru from around you, though, and manage to sit up. megumi pads carefully into the room, like you'd crumble into sand if his steps were too loud. "come in, i guess," your boyfriend says dramatically with a wave of his hand.

"satoru, i swear-"

"sorry, baby. shutting up." satoru flops back onto your bed and you reach out to megumi, who stares at your hand for a moment before rushing into your arms. "hey, megs. since you're here, you mind grabbing me a soda from the breakroom?"

"i thought you were shutting up, satoru," you remind him, voice poisonously sweet. he echoes your reminder in a mockingly high-pitched voice. "i'm gonna kick you out of my room if you don't stop, mister."

"you wouldn't dare," he gasps.

"oh, i would."

"yeah," he concedes. "you definitely would, but i love you for it." with satoru temporarily placated, you return your attention to the small child in your arms.

"you doing okay, megs?" he nods, eyes shut against your chest and holding you tight. "i'm not gonna die, buddy. i promise." you rub your hand up and down his back, combing your fingers through his hair when you're abruptly swung backward onto the bed. "jeez, satoru, what are you-"

"get the kid, it's nap time," he mumbles with finality, resecuring his body around yours and motioning for megumi to climb in. he does, and you drift off sandwiched between your boys, feeling a little lighter for the first time in days.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[cloudzoro]

Hi! Could you do 12 and 14 with Killer? I love your work so much, it's so good and I love reading it!!! <3333

omg yes!!! I love killer so much (I've been so into the kid pirates recently 🤭) (12 - size kink, 14 - soft sex)

cw: fem!reader

Devotion (Killer x Reader)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Killer kneels above you, giving you a moment to appreciate his stature before leaning down and attaching his mouth to your neck, pressing kisses and licking the skin there.

“Pretty Girl,” he says, large hands digging into your hips. He continues his path down your body, decorating your skin with kisses and flowery words. He listens to your gasps and moans, paying extra attention to the spots that make you moan the loudest.

When he finally reaches between your legs, his strong arms hold your legs apart so that he can work his tongue into your hole and lick at your walls. You can tell he's enjoying himself, moaning and growling against you as he licks and sucks at your clit. His tongue has your legs shaking with the force of pleasure. He works you over thoroughly, making sure you're drooling for his cock. Killer is weak to your voice. If you ask for his cock now, then he'll give it to you. If you ask him to stay down there and make you cum with his tongue then he would willingly do so.

“Kil, please”, You whine, fingers threading through his hair to grip and pull him from between your legs. He's strong enough, big enough, to overpower you, but he lets you guide him to your lips.

“What do you want from me, sweet girl?” he asks, breathlessly getting the words out between kisses. You can taste yourself on his tongue when you lick into his mouth. You're so caught up in that you almost forget to answer his question until he gently cradles your face in his hands and pulls you away from his face. He smiles, endeared by the way you try to kiss him again. He's tried to be stern with you, but he just can't bring himself to; he's too in love with you.

“I want your cock so bad,” you say.

“You got it, baby,” he says, sitting up on his knees. He pulls his cock from his boxers and gently rocks his hips, sliding his cock through your pussy lips and coating it in your juices.

He double-checks with you before lining himself up and gently pushing himself in. The stretch has you crying out, reaching up to grab onto his broad shoulders. If your fingertips digging into his back bother him, he doesn't show it. He coos at you, pressing soft kisses to the side of your face as he eases himself inside you.

“so big”, you whine, attempting to roll your hips with the limited space between the two of you.

“Yeah, but you can take it, can't you?” he asks, his low and gravelly voice making you clench around him as you nod at his question. When he finally bottoms out, he pauses for a moment, both to let you adjust and to admire you.

“I love you, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss you as he finally starts moving. You think any pussy must feel good around a cock like his, but he insists that yours is special and only you can make him feel this good. He makes you feel so loved; with a moniker like his, you would never have expected him to be as devoted as he is. The stretch of his cock and the promises on his lips have you ascending to a higher plane of existence.

“I love you too,” you whine as he picks up his thrusts, intent on making you cum harder than he ever has before.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

tag list: @bloodfixnd @sexysapphicshopowner @beachaddict48

taglist is always open!

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Study Buddies

isaac lahey x reader

summary: isaac asks you for help in chemistry. you agree on one condition.

tags: high school, studying / tutoring, mutual crushes, awkward flirting, caught in a lie, shyness, embarrassment, play fighting / tickling, bad puns, confessions, first kiss, teasing, fluff, pre-wolf isaac; his dad still sucks; autistic-coded reader

word count: 4.5k

a/n: this is my first time writing for teen wolf. I feel like I'm encroaching on claimed territory. 😅 also i've had this tab up for almost a week but have been afraid to post it, so here goes

Mr. Harris slides your progress report down onto your desk before you have a chance to react, and it catches wind and falls to the ground a moment later. You sigh and roll your eyes, but he’s already halfway across the room, impatiently handing out the rest of his stack. Your own little slip of paper is nowhere by your feet, and you resist the urge to make a remark about it. 

“Hey.” A voice interrupts your intruding thoughts at the same time a tap lands on your shoulder. Gentle, as if the tapper hates to disturb you, yet needs your attention. 

You turn, and temporarily forget about your lost report as your eyes meet Isaac’s, the boy who sits behind you, and has the cutest smile imaginable. You drop your gaze instantly, only for it to fall on his dimpled smile, and then, finally, on the paper held between two fingers. 

“I think this is yours,” he says, holding it out to you. 

Your name is clearly printed on the front, followed by your most recent grades in the class. You blush, immediately remembering it had dropped in the first place. 

“Oh. Thank you.”

“No problem. He seems like he’s in a mood today.” 

You nod, then take your paper from his hand. By this time, Harris has made his way back to the front, and is clearing his throat in a demand for the class’ silence. Quiet mutterings amongst friends cease at once, and you turn back to face the ill-tempered chemistry teacher. 

“Take a good look at your progress reports. The midterm is coming up, and some of you have more studying to do than others. Today, we will be learning new material, but next class period, we will have a review day. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. You can ask at the appropriate time in class, or come see me after school, or shoot me an email. Regardless of your grade, everyone should be studying, however, some of you have to move up a whole letter or two. That is on you to be aware of, and for you to put in the effort to do. Now, pull out your notes so that we can cover this section. It isn’t the hardest thing we’ll cover, but I expect it will be a struggle for some.”

And after that condescending introduction, he begins to teach. 

When the bell finally rings, your head is swarming with so much chemistry, your eyes are beginning to glaze over and put you to sleep. You’re relatively good at the subject, but that topic was more challenging than he warned it would be, making even you confused at times. You shake your head when you reach your lockers, trying to relieve yourself of the numbers swirling about in your mind. It takes a moment. A very stressful moment. 

A tap on your shoulder, more urgent than the last, pulls you out of your mental headspace. The chemistry bounces out of your mind entirely, bringing you back to reality, but making you jump in place at the sudden contact.

“Sorry,” a familiar voice apologies, “didn’t mean to scare you.”

Turning, you come face-to-face with Isaac again. His normally bright blue eyes are slightly cloudy, which worries you more than you’d like to admit. “No worries. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I have a question, actually, to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Okay, I wasn’t looking at your report, I didn’t mean to see your grades. I accidentally saw them when I picked up your paper, but I promise I wasn’t looking on purpose.” He stalls, continuously apologizing for something not at any fault of his own. 

“It’s okay,” you interrupt as politely as you can. 

He pauses, “um. I was wondering if you could help me? Like, in chemistry. Help me study, kinda like a tutor, I guess?”

You pale immediately. Just because you’re doing okay in the class doesn’t mean you have a clue how to help him understand. “Um-”

“Just… I just need a little help, if you can. I understand if you don’t want to, or can’t, or… I don’t know… are busy.” He runs his tongue along his lips nervously. You snap your eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact. 

“I don’t know… I’m not a good teacher.”

“But you’re really good in the class. Probably a better teacher than Harris has been lately.”

You chuckle, but you’re still not sure. Being that close to the boy you’ve liked for ages? On top of not being able to teach well? He’ll reduce you to a stupid, stuttering mess, just look at yourself now, unable to look him in the eye. No, don’t look at him, that was rhetorical. 

“I just,” he continues, “when he was talking about people who needed to go up a whole letter, he was talking about me. I know you’re good, you sit in front of me. If you can even just explain it to me as you study, it would help a lot.”

Half of your mind races to find an excuse, looking for an out, while the other begs you to agree. Isaac shoves a hand in his pocket and waits for a response. You debate with yourself for a moment, but then the urging part of your mind wins the argument with a question of its own. 

“What about this,” you start, “I’ll help you in chemistry, if you help me in French?”

“What?” He asks, taken off guard. “I’m not good at French.”

“You’re better than me. You have the answers to most of Ms. Morrell’s questions, and I can hear you when she asks us to recite words out loud.” His eyes narrow at that, to which you reply, “you sit behind me in French, too.”

“Right.” He smiles, but doesn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he rests his head against the locker beside yours. 

“So?”

“How do you know I’m not just guessing?”

“What’s your grade?”

“A,” he sheepishly answers.

“See? You can tutor me.”

“What’s your grade?”

You purse your lips and avoid his eyes again. “Too embarrassed to say.”

“Really?”

“Languages aren’t my strong suit. We all have our strengths.”

“Alright, deal. Help me in chem, and I’ll help you with French.”

“Sounds good. Library, or at one of our houses?”

“I can probably go to the library sometimes. Maybe during lunch or free period. But after school, I have lacrosse, and you probably don’t want to wait around school for that to be over.”

“Okay, so then your house or mine?”

“Where do you live?”

“Like ten minutes from here. You?”

“A bit closer than that. Parents?”

“Don’t really care what I do.”

“My dad is a little controlling,” he admits. 

“Would he care if I were to come over?”

“Not if you’re helping me study.”

“Okay. You want to meet a couple times a week at your house, and sometimes during lunch?”

“Sure. Practice ends around five. Is seven too late?”

“Not for me.”

“Cool. So, um, I’ll text you, and we can plan dates.” He shakes his head. “I mean, like, what days work best.”

You blush at his embarrassment. “Have to give you my number first, doofus.” 

“Oh.”

You scribble it onto a sticky note and hand it to him. “Let me know.”

“I will. And thank you.”

“Thank you, too.” You hurry your way to your next class, leaving him red in the face and hands at having a girl’s number. Granted, it’s just for studying, but it’s the fact he was able to talk to you at all that has him shaken. Isaac forces himself to breathe, before entering it in his phone and tucking the sticky safely in his backpack. As the bell rings, he hurries to his next class. 

~~~~

The next evening is the first time you meet up to study. You drive to the address he’s given and knock on the door as gently as possible. Isaac had mentioned his dad is controlling, so the first thing you want to do is to avoid pissing him off in any way you could. Controlling could mean a lot of things, and the boy wasn’t specific at all. For both of your sakes, you tread lightly. 

Isaac opens the door a moment later, dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweats. You try really hard not to blush as he invites you inside, but then his dad’s strict voice snaps you back into reality. You can see Isaac take a visible deep breath before rounding the corner in the kitchen, you in tow. You put on your best look of professionalism while trying to anticipate how the next couple of minutes might go. 

“And? Who was it?”

“Y/N, the girl I told you I was studying with… with whom I am going to study,” he corrects at the last minute. 

His father’s posture tenses a bit less when his son corrects his own grammar without prompt, but it doesn’t stop his cold eyes from floating over to you. “And you’re studying what?”

“Chemistry, sir. I’m helping Isaac, and he’s helping me with French.”

“And you know French well enough to help her?”

“I believe I do,” he says, trying to sound confident. 

“I think he does, too. In class, he always has the answers, and Mrs. Morrell’s often impressed, and she’s hard to impress more than once.”

“Hm.” His dad takes a sip from a glass, then carefully sets it down on the table. His eyes are locked on Isaac the whole time. The boy stares at the ground, any confidence shaken by the interaction. You study the scene, confused. “Well… Go study. Bring up those grades.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply at the same time. 

Isaac nods for you to follow him to his room, which you oblige. His dad remains seated as you make your way up the stairs. You bite back a comment about the man, even in the safety of Isaac’s bedroom, and he doesn’t say anything, either. The same remark is in both your heads, yet while you want to ask it in a question, he wants to use it as a reassurance. Yes, he’s a bit more controlling than Isaac originally said. No, he won’t do anything stupid while you're there. He tries to convey this in an expression, which you half-understand, but eventually drop it. If anything happens, you’ll leave. Simple as that. 

As it turns out, the first night of you studying together ends up nothing like the initial interaction you had in his house. Isaac is gentle, patient, and willing to learn and teach the best that he can. He’s admittedly worse in chemistry than you are in French, but you’re able to convince him that you only need to work on a few things; an hour of time doesn’t have to be devoted to your studies, maybe only twenty minutes. On the contrary, the other sixty are put towards chemistry. And, of course, the first five are for settling in, and the last five are for uncontrollable laughter at a mispronunciation. 

Thirty minutes to nine, you realize how late it’s gotten and start to pack your things. Isaac looks exhausted, and frankly, as much as you’re enjoying his company, you’re getting tired from talking. 

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He asks, rather quickly. 

You stare for a moment, then, “what?”

“Vendredi.”

“Thursday?”

“Non.”

“Friday?”

“Oui, rencontrer?”

“Meet then?”

“Yeah, would you like to?”

“Sure.” You nod. “Say it again?”

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He says it slower this time. It has the same effect on you, but you can comprehend each word better. 

“Cool,” you say, not at all thinking about his accent that paints the words so beautifully. “I’ll bring my H2O, since I forgot it this time.”

The boy snorts with more laughter. “Bad joke.”

“Absolutely horrible,” you agree. “See you in school tomorrow.”

“Drive safe.”

“Be safe,” you reply before you can stop yourself, referring to his dad downstairs. 

Isaac only nods. He walks you to his front door, then hurries back up to his room. 

~~~~

Each day you study together follows a similar routine to the first: five minutes to settle in, sixty of chemistry, twenty of French, then five of joking around with each other. Sometimes Isaac pushes for thirty of French instead, worried that you’re sacrificing your own studies for his, and never understands when you push back that you’re good with only twenty. 

His chemistry improves immensely with your help. In three weeks, he manages to pull it up to a ‘C’. Not only is his father a bit more lenient to him after the next progress report, but he’s also more pleasant to you the next time you come around to study. He even cracks a smile. 

Today, you go over just the same as you have been. Seven on the dot, you’re greeted by his dimpled smile and half-friendly father. The man has now graduated to welcoming you, and has once clapped you on the shoulder as you’ve passed. You’re polite to him, though you can tell Isaac’s uncomfortable with his unusual behavior, so you always try to retreat upstairs as soon as possible. This time, he’s busy with something in the kitchen and doesn’t talk for long. He makes one comment about grades; you promise him you’re both doing well, then he lets you go. 

Finally away, it doesn’t take long for you to settle down anymore. You make yourself comfortable on Isaac’s bed, pulling out your notes and pens, and smiling when he joins you. You’ve come to be good friends in the last couple weeks, and although there’s something definitely in the air, too, you’re good with being friends if that’s all you can convince yourselves you are. 

You start, per usual, with chemistry, reading over notes and figuring out problems. He moves closer and closer to you each day you teach, simultaneously making you nervous and excited. Either way, your water bottle remains beside you to calm your ever-growing heart rate. When it comes time to switch subjects, you excuse yourself a minute to recover and prepare for the next half hour. In the beginning, it was easier to hide your blush, promising you’re still getting the hang of the co-teaching thing. Now, your excuse dwindles. The shy smile you wear as he recites words of the love language has never faded. You have to compose yourself entirely, elsewhere, to be able to control your reaction and face him. 

“Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“Yeah, just over there.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as the door shuts, Isaac jumps off the bed to check his hair in the mirror. In the process, your French binder falls to the ground and loses its page. The boy sighs, mutters an ‘oh shit,’ then pulls it back up to find the page again. He opens the flap and immediately finds a stash of old progress reports. You seem to keep all of your old ones in the front flap of your binder; he’s noticed you have all your chemistry reports, too. Curious, Isaac steals a peek. Despite confessing about his ‘D’ in chemistry, you’ve always cheekily refused to share your French grade. He doubts it’s that bad, but he’s never gotten you to admit it. 

He glances at the bathroom door, then checks the date on the report before scanning the grades. Guilt eats at him the longer he looks, but nosiness, then confusion keeps his eyes glued. Is he really reading that right? There’s no way you have a-

“Sorry about that,” you say, closing the door. 

Startled, he drops your binder and looks up at you. “It’s no worry.”

“What’s wrong?” You notice his change in behavior, like a young boy being caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. 

“Nothing. Your binder fell off the bed, I was picking it up.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He smiles when you join him back on the bed. You’re not sure if you still have a right to be suspicious, or if he’s just embarrassed because he’s so shy. “So, um-”

Isaac, on the other hand, is brimming with questions. As anxious as he is that you caught him peeking, he can’t help but wonder about what he saw. You start to speak, maybe to change the subject, but he cuts you off, guilt and curiosity both winning. “You have an ‘A’ in French?”

“What?”

“You’ve had an ‘A’ since the start of the year. Why do you need me to tutor you if you already know it?”

You shut your open mouth immediately, face paling at the realization you’ve been caught. “I-... I don’t know. Your grades are better than mine.”

“By one point.”

“Two points. You have a 94. I have a 92.”

“Doesn’t explain the need for a tutor,” he argues.

You study him, choosing to base your reaction off his own. He’s smiling; seemingly happy, curious, and not at all upset. His tone implies no accusation, just confusion, and his body posture is straight, shoulders relaxed. A twinkle shines in his baby blue eyes; his level of eye contact is neither constant nor avoidant. He’s safe. 

“I, um,” you decide to tell him the truth. Or, rather, stutter out the truth. “I don’t need a French tutor.”

“So I’ve gathered.” Decisive tone, yet still friendly. Still safe. 

“I figured, since I would help you with chemistry, even though I’m not that good of a teacher, if you had to teach me something too, it would put less pressure on me to be a good teacher.”

His eyes narrow. “Okay… but why French?” He’s still a little confused on that reasoning, but doesn’t question it. He knows you’re shy. If that’s what you had to do to make it work that you could help him, he doesn’t mind. 

“I, er, well, the French provided a win-win scenario.”

“Which is?”

You shrug, body warming quickly as you near your deeply guarded secret. “I- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Mhm, really?”

“You’re best in French,” you offer instead, on a whim.

“True,” he agrees, “though I feel that’s not the real reason, judging by your lack of eye contact.”

“I’m always bad at eye contact.”

“You’ve been getting better with me these last few weeks.”

“Yes, but…”

“I’m not going to judge, Y/N. Whatever you say, it’s safe with me. You trust me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then how is me teaching you French a, as you call it, win-win scenario?”

Finally, you fess, “because I get to hear you speak it every time you teach me.”

Isaac’s quiet for a moment. Then, you realize it seems to have gone over his head as he says, “you hear me speak all the time in class.”

“Yeah, but… with twenty other voices mixed in, too. I like hearing just your voice. The way you know just how to sound it out perfectly, and the way your accent flourishes each sentence. Most people in class sound like they’re gurgling saltwater, but you make it sound hot, like the way French is supposed to sound.” Your mouth utters words before your brain can catch up and prevent you from embarrassment. As soon as you realize what you’ve said, a dizziness swarms your head and it feels like the temperature’s gone up ten degrees. 

Isaac is speechless in front of you. He’s first stuck on the fact that you like his voice, then on his pronunciation being described as perfect, but then he short-circuits as the word ‘hot’ falls from your lips. He doesn’t even realize when you plant your face into your binder, shocked by your own confession. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. It’s muffled, but he hears it enough to pull him from his trance. 

“You like my voice?” He asks, cursing himself for the stupidity of the question. It’s all he can think of to say, though, still trying to cool his own rising body temperature. 

“I shouldn’t have said all that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he blurts out quickly. “I’m actually quite charmed by that.”

You resist the urge to look up at him, desperate to see if he’s smiling or not. Isaac seems to have a similar thought, and tries to hook a finger under your chin to lift your head. He succeeds, but then you instantly embarrass again, and dive for the pillows, burying your face amongst them. 

“Oh no, get back here,” he jokes. You feel him before you look out to see him. His hands shake your shoulder, but when you don’t respond, he playfully starts to tickle your neck. You scrunch and try to scramble away, but he only continues. “C’mon.”

“I can’t!” The words have finally sunken into his head; the weight of them falls on your chest. 

“Oh, yes you can!” He teases more, moving pillows away from you, just for you to grab another and bury back under it. When Isaac realizes there’s no use in trying to win the pillow war, he swings a leg over yours and begins to tickle your stomach. Your shirt has begun to ride up from your movement, and temporarily, he forgets you’re classmates, not longtime best friends. “C’mon, give it up!”

“I-I can’t!” You’re running out of breath, and pillows. He pulls another away from you, then puts his hands back on your sides. Your eyes are squeezed shut, but only do you open them because of the unfamiliar feeling of him touching you. A beat skips in your heart at the sudden, unexpected realization that he’s not only touching your skin, but he’s also straddling your waist. You swallow hard. He pinches your side lightly, shocking you back into reality, and making you grab another pillow to hide your face again. Before you can grasp it, Isaac grabs your hands and pins them above your head. You pant, heart racing a mile a minute. His too, as you can hear in the moment you both grow quiet. 

“You think it’s hot when I speak French?”

“No, I think you’re hot when you speak French. There’s a difference.”

“Is there now?”

“The temperature of the room doesn’t get hot, it’s you that gets hot.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Not that you’re not always hot… I mean, sometimes, you’re more like a cute little puppy than a hot, French-speaking…” your words fade as your brain catches up, faster this time, yet still not fast enough. 

“Am I now?”

What’s done is done, you figure. Can’t take it back now, can only admit it. “Yeah.”

“Huh. So all this time, you’ve been teaching me chemistry, and I’ve been talking pointlessly while you listen and learn nothing?”

“When you word it like that, it sounds bad.” A pout graces your lips as guilt floods you. “But I have learned some things. I was struggling with direct objects, and now I’m not.”

“Ah. So I’m not totally useless?”

“Never. You wouldn’t be useless even if I knew perfect French.” Before he can reply, you continue. “I’m sorry I wasted your time. I shouldn’t have. Can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you for what? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I wasted your time when we could’ve been doing more chemistry.”

“Darling, too much chemistry and my brain woulda exploded. The French lessons are a nice intermission. Besides, I wouldn’t consider any time with you as time wasted.”

“Really?”

He drops your hands and they fall back down to your waist. He seems, then, to realize he’s still on top of you, and begins to climb off. “Sorry, I-”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Can I confess something else?”

He pauses. “Sure, anything.”

“I would’ve been okay with just tutoring you chemistry, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye long enough to do it well.”

“You’ve been doing great with the eye contact thing. I know it’s not your strong suit, but you’ve made a lot of progress these last couple weeks.”

“Thank you,” you smile. “It’s not only that.” A heartbeat passes. “I like you.”

“You like me?” His eyes narrow before he assumes only, “you like my voice.”

“No, I like you. I mean, yes, I like your voice, but I like it because I like you.”

“Like me, as in…”

“Like I have a crush on you.”

He tilts his head like a confused dog. “On me?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

“I’ve never had anyone have a crush on me before,” he admits.

Now you’re confused. “What?! How?!”

“I don’t know!”

“That’s stupid. Never had anyone admit it, maybe.”

“I’d never know.”

“Well I’ve had a crush on you since the seventh grade.”

“You moved to Beacon Hills in the seventh grade.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?”

“Very secretly.”

“Huh. Well I’ve liked you since the first day of school,” he confesses.

“I’ve liked you since orientation, so I win.”

He smiles, then shakes his head playfully. “So I sit behind you in classes for years and only finally get the courage to talk to you when I’m borderline failing chemistry, and you only get the courage to talk to me for more than one minute if you can convince me to talk half of the time that we’d be studying together.”

“Sounds about right.”

“And my portion of the talking is in French, because you think my accent is hot?”

“Your accent is always hot; your French is hot on its own.”

“Ah, I’m following now.” He chuckles, letting his fingertips grace your hips. 

“So,” you ask, “as two people with several year long mutual crushes on each other, what do we do next?”

“Well you’re the one that’s been tutoring me chemistry, love, I’m hoping you have the answer.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Wrong kind of chemistry, dork.” You reach your hands up to the sides of his face anyway, and pull him down for a kiss. Isaac complies immediately, setting one hand down beside you, while the other caresses your chin. Your legs hook around his waist, keeping him close until he starts to pull away, needing air. You let go, then hide your face as his own turns a rosy pink. 

“That was worth the wait,” he says, smiling, and touching a finger to his recently-kissed lips. “Êtes-vous d'accord?” 

“Shut up,” you tease, pushing him slightly. “Chemistry time.”

“We just had chemistry time. It’s French time now.”

“No, we can skip a round,” you insist, unsure you can hear anymore French fall from his lips without folding and kissing them again.

“On the contrary, I think you need to sharpen your vocabulary.”

“I think I’ll need a water break first.”

“That we can do,” he agrees. “I’ll make sure to get yours with extra ice.”

“Shush!”

[gremlintheslut]

Kinktober

Day 3 sextape and honeymoon

Nikki sixx

Sex tape and honeymoon

Nikki sixx

Summary: a tape from the 80s was recently found and posted onto the Internet. The tape is of you and Nikki sixx getting it on while on your honeymoon.

Warning: bondage (with rope), recording sex, sex tape getting leaked, masterbation, oral sex (m receiving), nipple clamps, blindfold (cloth), ball gag (unspecified).

Master list (main pinned)

(Written from the pov of a fan)

I turn on my phone and go onto tiktok. I scroll past the advertisement I'm shown when I first open the app and the next video catches my eye. A girl with wide eyes has her hand over her mouth and the text on the screen reads "omg I just watched the Nikki sixx honeymoon video those bitches are kinky". I'm filled with confusion and curiosity. My favorite band is motley Crue and I've never heard of this before.

I click one of the tags on the video that reads "Nikki sixx honeymoon video". I scroll through a bunch of videos and comments trying to figure out where to find it. I eventually find out that the only place where it has been posted and not taken down almost immediately after is Twitter (I fucking hate X). I put my phone down and sit up on my bed leaning against the headboard. I take my laptop off of the my nightstand where it is charging and place it on my lap.

I open it and go to Twitter. I search "Nikki sixx honeymoon video" and find what I assume is the honeymoon video. I click on it. Nikki is messing around with the camera trying to get a good angle. "Is it on?" his wife y/n says from across the room. "Yeah just trying to get it to stay still" he says continuing to move the camera around. "Is there any extra rope in the box?" Y/n says and Nikki laughs.

He lets go of the camera keeping his hands close to it in case it fell. The camera stays and he moves back allowing the camera to capture the full scene. Y/n is kneeling on the floor and she is tied up whilst completely naked. Her arms are stacked on top of each other behind her back and her hands holding her elbows. The rope on her arms is attached to her legs and her waist so she can't move at all. Her legs are spread as wide as they can go. My jaw drops. All the videos and comments said kinky but damn.

Nikki's shirt is already off. Nikki walks over to her and takes something off of the nightstand which is in frame by a sliver. The first thing he grabs is a blind fold. Y/n has a smile on her face the whole time while he ties it around her head so she can't see. My jaw drops further when he grabs nipple clamps with a third clamp attached to the chain. I'm confused as he attaches the top two clamp to her nipples. Y/n makes a small whimper of discomfort but she's clearly used to it.

Then he take the bottom clamp and attaches it to her clit. Y/n hisses in pain as he tugs on the chain to make sure they wouldn't come off. He then stands up to his full height. He unbuttons and unzips his pants pulling them down along with his boxers. He steps out of them and moves so he's right in front of y/n and you can see everything. holy fuck. Y/n is a lucky bitch. y/n had opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out the second she heard the zipper. He pushes the tip against her tongue and she kitten licks him. Her tongue swipes up and down his piss slit before swirling it around the head.

She moves her head forward a little as her tongue follows one of the veins on his cock from just below the tip to the base. She swirls her tongue around the base before following the same vein back up. She licks a stripe up his piss slit and doesn't get the chance to go down again before Nikki pulls on the chain. She moans in response. She moves her lips in front of her teeth and closes them around his tip. She sucks on the tip for a few seconds and I assume she moves her tongue as well.

She takes more of him into her mouth. Nikki thrusts his hips a little the action clearly being involuntary.

She moves all the way down his shaft not stopping or showing any sign of discomfort. Nikki's mouth forms and O shape and he leans forward a little. Again my jaw drops as her lips hit the base and you can see the bulge in her throat. She sits like this for a few seconds while Nikki has his head tilted back pleasure. "Holy shit" he moans out after tugging on the chain again telling Y/n to begin to move up and down. She starts off somewhat slow before picking up the speed. He full on moans while pulling on her hair. Her head game is clearly unmatchable.

She goes up and down at the same fast speed until sixx grabs the back of her head. He forces her to speed up and she lets him take full control. She still isn't gagging at all and seems fine. This bitch is a pro. I'm pulled out of my thoughts when Nikki lets out a particularly loud groan. "Fuck baby" he almost whimpers out, his eyes squeezed shut. He's clearly having the time of his life. I look at the time thing on the video and see it is 4 hours long. I'm shocked, it can't just be one round.

My eyes are dragged back to the scene playing on my screen after Nikki moans loudly. The look on his face is complete bliss and he stopped moving y/n head. He's Leaned forward more and his mouth is still in an O shape and his jaw is twitching a little. Just a couple seconds later he lets out a sigh. I've been watching for almost 30 minutes now. He pulls out of her mouth. Y/n swallows and licks her lips. He puts his finger and his thumb on her chin. "Open" he says and I can't tell if she does or if he makes her. She sticks her tongue out and then lifts it up to show she has swallowed everything.

He then leaves his spot in front of her.

He goes to the nightstand to get something. It's a ball gag and at this point I'm not surprised. He walks back over to her and puts it on her. He walks behind her and untied her arms before retying the ropes so only one arm is free. He grabs her by the wrist and places her hand on her pussy. She doesn't move and muscle and he walks towards the camera. He grabs it and walks back to her making sure he has the best angle of her possible.

He removes the clamp that's on her clit and continues to hold onto the longest part of the chain. "Go" Nikki says and she begins rubbing her clit in slow circles. Her muffled moans ring out from my computers speaker. He wraps the chain around his knuckles and pulls hard. She cries against the gag and tears roll down her face. Her fingers move from her clit to her entrance. She slowly pushes them in and then an error message pops up onto my screen. "We are sorry but this video has been removed" it reads. I let out a disappointed sigh and close the app before closing my laptop.

Words-1319

Thanks for reading 💋-gremlin

I'm really proud of this and I'm probably gonna write the full honeymoon video

[kangen-wanshi]

General ft. Jing Yuan

As one of the Seven Arbiter Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance, Jing Yuan and many others have never doubted his title as a General of the Cloud Knight. Although, when you've got your hand on a different General from a video game, it seems like he have his own opinion on them..

Tags: sfw with slightly suggestive ending

[ "Your sins weigh upon your soul!" ]

— Were the first line of words that the Cloud Knight General heard when he stepped into your shared home. He only blinked quietly. Fortunately, he's smart enough to recognize that the voice is played from a device's speaker - and well, it doesn't sound like a dialogue that you'd have if you were in a conversation with someone.. Perhaps you're watching a show?

His guess was proven to be somewhat correct when he watch you laying on the bed with your phone up in the air, seemingly engrossed with whatever is playing on the screen, as you barely acknowledge him coming home.

It was not until he took all of his gear off and plop himself next to you and pulled you to his chest that you finally realized that he's home.

"Jing Yuan!" You exclaimed with a smile and a kiss to his cheek as you further snuggled to his side, "I didn't know you're going home early."

"Well I've been home since yesterday," he captured your lips in a soft kiss before pulling away as his hand found its digits through your hair, "But you seem occupied."

"Oh, sorry about that," you grin bashfully, turning your attention back to your phone - specifically, to the game that are playing on it, bringing the screen to the General's attention, "The Trailblazers helped me connect to a game from a different world entirely and I've been hooked for days now! It's really cool, look —"

["In some legends, thunderbolts are a form of judgment from the gods above."]

That voice again. Jing Yuan raised an eyebrow as he squinted, and noticed the dark skinned character standing in the middle of the screen.

"And that is?"

"This is Cyno! He's quite a popular character recently, and he just got a rerun so I just had to get him!" Jing Yuan only hummed in acknowledgment - not understanding a single word you uttered, but he smiled and nodded nonetheless at your adorableness.

"He's also my new husband."

"What?"

His confusion and wide eyes earned you a giggle as you looked up to him, his calm doozy face now contorted with an offended and confused frown.

"Now now, let's not get hasty." He tried to pry your phone off of your hand, but you dodged, pulling it away from his reach, "You have me, don't you? Surely you won't favor a pixelated character over your beloved husband?"

"I don't know Jing Yuan, I might," you giggled further, pulling you gaze away from him back to Cyno on the screen, "Cyno is also a General you know - He's a General Mahamatra of the Akademiya and he swore to keep peace by delivering justice as he sees fit!"

"Right. But that General's strength is clearly no match to mine."

"If you're talking about your Lightning-Wielding Thunder-Clapping Spirit-Squashing Lord —" you gave a dramatic pause, "Then he also has that, too. Several, in fact! Probably. He's also aligned with the thunder element!"

At this point he just stares at you. Eyes narrowed, his lips turned into an obvious pout, as he waited for you to take back everything you said.

Unfortunately, in the end, you couldn't even hold yourself against the adorable look that the General only shows to you. Choosing to give up on your teasing, as you finally leaned back up to him to kiss his cheek.

"Sorry," you giggled, "Don't worry. You're the only General I'll ever be in love with."

Jing Yuan doesn't take this confession lightly. Before you can pull away from him, he picks up your phone and puts it away somewhere on the bedside, grabbing your empty hand within his own before pushing you back down onto the bed with him now looming above you.

"You know, perhaps I should remind you about that fact." He chuckled, pushing himself towards you, burying his face to the crook of your neck as he heaved a warm breath just behind your ear, "Just to make sure I'm the only General you'll ever think of."

Let's just say your game were left opened the entire night by accident.

[zu8her]

✧･ﾟSuna Rintarou | Sweet — just suna being extremely horny

✧･ﾟtags — lots of cum. like a lot. an ungodly amount. non penetrative sex. video call. audio porn. nudes. black!reader. thick!reader. fantasising. switch!suna. no beta. maybe a part 2 if im feeling up to it. masturbating. cock fisting. cock. cock. cock. whiny!suna. Virgin!Suna switch!suna. voicenote.

✧･ﾟnotes — this is the fastest fic i have written thus far. it's inspired by @chrollohearttags and @forusomimiya (y'all are fucking amazing). i dabbled a little bit and added some of my own characterisation to suna. i really hope yall like it.

✧･ﾟ— word count: 1.6K

She's cute. So fucking cute. He thinks staring down at a picture she recently posted. Her hair’s in mini twists. She has on a cherry pink dress with a white-ish nude pink corset outlining her waist. She lays on her signature plaid punch pink picnic mat, snacks surrounding her with a porcelain vase in the centre containing sweet pea vines. She looks up at the camera with a smile. Her hickory skin producing an angelic luminance under the sun's honey glimmer.

Her friend's rust coloured hand can be spotted at the crook of the photo with their glamorous green acrylics in view tapping against the mat.

But his eyes only fixate on her. Her glistening skin, her chest pushed up with the help of the corset (he questions if it was deliberate or not), her thighs in view as her dress is hiked up slightly and her alluring smile.

His eyes has been taking in every tantalising detail of her body. He grunts, a moan or two slipping out, stroking his cock faster. Hissing at the cum seeping down his shaft.

He'd like to say that this doesn't happen often but it does. Him relentlessly stroking his cock for her, because of her, is a near daily occurrence for him. The mere thought of her would make him palm his cock through his sweatpants. The mere sight of her as he scrolled through his phone would make him throw his head back closing his eyes to filthy images of her.

Like right now, viciously fisting his cock. He groans as yet another shaking orgasm washes over him. His cum running down his hand gathering with the previous spurts of cum and precum. It landing on his tile floor and droplets on his phone. It rolls down from his cum-covered balls onto his sweatpants he pulled down a good 2-3 hours ago. His mind too dazed to even conceive the time or how many times he had cum.

To overwhelmed to hold it, he drops his phone. Shutting his eyes, he envisions her with his cock in her mouth. Teasing him with little licks at his tip and her hand running up and down his cock.

He’d always think about her. During practice, lectures, at some of event where he sat for hours, at home, with a smirk planted on his face as she scolds him after finding a piece of her clothing he had hidden in his room after she forgot it there. "You think this is funny? I thought someone stole it. I've been looking for this."

His thoughts would be filled with her. Her in utter ecstasy. Her flowerful voice always in his head, dripping with lust as it whines, moans, gasps and giggles.

“Fuck me, Rin.”

“I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

“Be a good boy and let me fuck you, Rin.”

“Touch yourself for me, baby.”

He’s been violently horny, since he became her boyfriend. She knows his for a fact. He's always teasing her. Pressing his hard cock against her ass and whispering the things he'd do to her. “What about we get out of here and you show me what you're hiding under this shirt, hmm? Would you like that?”

This is especially enticing for him because he has not done anything with anyone yet. She has. The thoughts of his 'extremely fucking attractive and experienced' girlfriend fucking him, would rile him up. It would have him in the bathroom rubbing one out with images of her between his legs lapping up all his cum and him fucking her pretty little throat, filling it and watching her swallow.

He'd spent hours fantasising about fucking her in everyway imaginable.

With her bent over his knee as he fucks his fingers into her. Licking off her cum. How would it taste like, he seldom ponders. Would it be as sweet as her.

Her legs over his shoulder, while he moans her name and fucks his cock into her wet cunt. Rubbing her clit as he feels her cum on his cock. How would that feel like?

With her laying on her stomach, drool running down her cheek as he fucks her from behind. Watching her ass repeatedly bounce against his cock.

From the side, holding her leg up as he plunges every inch of his cock into her. Sloppily kissing her. Looking through his mirror at her tits bouncing with his thrusts.

This is torture. Depriving him from fucking her (even if it was him who said he'd like to take things slow). Surely, she had to suffer alongside him. Probably with her wand, pressing it against her clit. Her ass up, legs spread rubbing her clit and teasing her soft fingers inside her slit.

He often wonders if she fucks herself to the thought of him. Does she grope her tits and press her thighs together at the photos she has of him, at the photos he sends?

These thoughts would send him into a frenzy, that leaves him with his cock hard again. Then he'd retreat to his bed or bathroom with his trusty phone and the baby wipes she had left in his dorm and forgot about.

He'd like her to experience and bare the brunt of the disgustingly lewd lust she brought onto him. He'd be cruel, evil even. Torturing her by sending her pictures of his hard cock with his pretty pink tip, audios of him moaning for her, videos of his throbbing cock. His cock twitching with cum all over it, his hand too, holding the base while cum drips onto his stomach. Deliberately but vaguely placing emphasis on his hand or taking it out of the frame entirely because he knows how much she loves his hands.

This night. This normal, Sunday evening, he felt particularly needy. He came, and came, and came. To the point that a small puddle of his cum formed. The ache started when he woke up scrolling through his phone to find a voicenote she had sent to him, of her quiet moans and whimpers with the sound of her vibrator accompanying her, in retaliation. He listened to it on his way to the bathroom. Which is where he stays currently, stroking his cock again after finally ceasing stroking his cock an hour ago.

He cleaned up. Throwing his dirty sweatpants in the laundry hamper. Just then is when he caught a glimpse of her underwear and hot pink towel hanging over the rack.

So, he sits on his toilet with her towel wrapped around his neck inhaling her scent and rubbing her thong against his cock.

While he continued to indulge in his fantasies, she sat by her desk with scented candles, her computer in front of her as she finished her paper. She hums to the music slightly bobbing her head feeling her twists brush against her cheeks.

Feeling her phone vibrate she picks it up. She has notification. A message from: ☆*: .｡.Rin🤎.｡.:*☆ with a video attached to it.

Seeing that, she stops. It’s either him beginning his tirade of bombarding her with videos he found funny (his humour is quite... stale but she loves him for it), the practice match footage, random volleyball plays he wanted to try or him begging her to come fuck him. He’d done this many times. She’d respond with a picture of herself effectively worsen his problem, sometimes she'd be kind and send him a message telling him to care of it himself/ to fuck off (which she found he enjoyed) or her laying in bed with her vibrator between her folds rewatching the video, over, and over, and over again.

She sits thinking. Finish the essay now, but she does have 3 more weeks before she has to hand this in. Her eyes snap to her phone when she receives yet another message from him. She discards all reason and opens it. Clicking on the notification the video automatically plays.

Her screen is filled with his cum-covered cock. It would be abhorrent how much cum covers his cock and hand if she did not find it attractive, which she does. Over her speakers softly plays the sloppy sound of him rubbing his cock and him moaning. She presses her thighs together when he finally speaks.

“Hey, baby.” His husky voice greets.

“Look what you’ve done…” He sniffs. “You did this. Fuck- You have me stroking my cock like this… You won’t even help me… Look how hard it is… I just need- just- fuck- please, please come fuck me, baby.” His deep voice whines.

“I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. Just please let me fuck you." His voice softens. "I'll be good."

He continues, unable to form a coherent thought or sentence with his mind dazed in a haze of pleasure. Just blabbering whatever slips out with his moans.

“You’re so pretty y/n. So fucking pretty. Just thinking about you… Fuck-” He whines as cums spurts onto his stomach and drip down his hand.

Hearing only his whimpers for a few moments as he gathers himself. Then he slips into a domineering tone with his sly chuckle.

“Please, come fuck me. Just your tits will be fine. Or let me eat you out. Or just come watch me. Watch me fuck myself for you. Just for you.”

The camera flips and she's met with his face. Sweat runs down his face, his yellow eyes dull with lust as he gives a fucked-out grin before his face twists and he deliverers a deep moan. She hears him continue to sloppily stroke his cock.

“Fuck, I’m still cumming for you.”

He pants, him biting his lower lip. With a chuckle the video ends.

[vodika-vibes]

hi thanks for spoiling everybody recently 😚 can I ask for a Boba Fett (you can choose either from RotJ or BoBF) paired with #3 of your 2nd smut prompt list, “Your eyes always glaze over when you cum”?

Spoiled

Summary: You spend an evening with Boba.

Pairing: Boba Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 967

Warnings: Smut, aftercare

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope that this is okay! I don't think I've ever written anything that jumps right to the smut before, so this is a first for me.

“You’re doing so good, Princess.” Boba rumbles in your ear as he drags his calloused fingers down your sides, and then back up again. “So good for me,” He praises as he slowly thrusts up into you. 

You whine, arching up into his touch, “Boba-” 

“I have you, Princess.” He reassures you, his voice low and deferential. 

You’re perched on his lap, your arms tied behind your back, while he slowly fucks you. You’ve been here for a while now, and he’s already forced you to fall apart around him several times. 

At this point, the only thing you can think about is the man pressed against you, and the delicious sensation of him thrusting into you. Which is exactly what he told you he wanted when he arrived on your doorstep several hours earlier. 

He adjusts his angle and you release a cry as he hits the spot inside you, again, that has you seeing stars and your head falls forward to rest on his slightly sweaty shoulder.

Boba’s hand slides up your back and he firmly grips a handful of your hair, pulling you back from his shoulder just roughly enough that you release a pleasure filled moan, “You need to keep your eyes on me, Princess.” He orders, “Your eyes always glaze over when you cum, and I want to see it.”

You shudder and struggle to keep your gaze on Boba, but he makes it so very difficult when he increases his pace and pushes you closer and closer to another orgasm.

His name falls from you like a prayer, and Boba chuckles as he snakes his hand down your body to press firmly against your clit. It’s all the stimulation you need as he shoves you over the edge to your release. 

Somehow, likely because of his firm grip in your hair, you’re able to keep your gaze open and on him as you fall apart around him for the fourth, or was it fifth(?), time that evening.

He groans as you clench tightly around him and continues to shallowly fuck you through your orgasm. And once you stop trembling and are gazing at him though hazy eyes, he tightens his grip around you and starts thrusting hard and fast, chasing his own release with your sore and exhausted body.

He releases your hair, and slides his hands down to where your hands are bound behind you, and he releases you with a tug on the satin holding you still, and you immediately twine your arms around his neck and thread your fingers through his curly hair, holding him as close as you can. 

“There we go,” Boba groans in your ear, “My sweet girl, made for me. Made for my cock.” He roughly drags his hands up your spine, “Gonna fill you, pretty girl. Gonna stuff you full.” His lips find a spot on your neck and you whine low in the back of your throat as he bites down, “Gonna make you mine. No one is ever going to make you feel as good as I do.” He pulls  you into a deep kiss, his tongue sliding along your lips, and against your tongue.

His steady rhythm falters as he thrusts hard into you and spills his release deep inside you. And you release a mewling whine as you feel his release paint your walls.

Boba’s tight grip loosens into something softer, and he presses his forehead against your own as he catches his breath. “I’m going to lay you down, Princess.” He murmurs once his breathing has steadied.

You nod at him slowly, and he eases you down to the plush comforter of your bed, and a low groan falls from you as his softening cock slips out of your, your mixed release dripping from you and onto the bed. You shimmy up the bed, with his help, until your head is resting on a pillow again, and you blink at him sleepily.

Boba smiles at you, adoration clear on his face, “I’ll be right back, cyare.” He leans over you and kisses you, softly and sweetly, before he’s gone from your bed. 

You lazily track him across the room with your eyes, and you watch him vanish into the fresher, only to return a moment later with a wet cloth. He carefully, lovingly cleans you up, and tosses the cloth to the side when he’s done. 

His fingers trail along your jaw, and you smile at him lovingly, “Boba,” You murmur his name, your voice slightly hoarse from the sheer amount of moaning you’ve done.

“There you are,” Boba replies, “Are you back with me now?” He asks as he lays on the bed next to you, his hands firm and grounding you here with him.

You nod, “Was a lot,” You say as you shift to lay your head on his chest. “Was perfect,” You add with a small smile. 

He chuckles, “Was worried you weren’t going to be able to handle it there towards the end,” Boba admits, he trails his hand to your wrists, which he then brings up to his mouth to lovingly kiss the bruises left behind by the satin, “We’ll have to switch material, I think. Satin doesn’t have enough give.”

“I like how satin feels though,” You reply.

He huffs out a laugh, “Then I’ll buy you satin sheets, my perfect girl.”

You smile at him, “I love you,” You murmur.

“I know,” His fingers glide across your lips, “I love you too, princess.” He lightly trails his fingers down your throat, “Are you feeling up to a bath?”

You hum and snuggle against him, “Will you carry me?”

He laughs, “I spoil you. But yes, I will carry you if you want.”

And you smile at him adoringly in turn.

[fountainpenguin]

Short Version: I don't even know how to begin explaining this, so take these 'fic doodles with no context.

Wish Fixers, my chronically unhelpful beloved...

Long Version (City Lights AU #ridspoilers beyond the above implication. Mentions of death and trauma; it gets pretty dark)

Nalooksthrough, I tag you below because I cited your co-dependent toxic friendship comic and said it was cool- If you don't want to click, that's all the tag was :)

So I started outlining my Dale backstory 'fic (Lemonade and Papercuts) since I am the most predictable person alive and of COURSE I can't resist 7 years of trauma and intimacy anxiety <3. But planning a 'fic like this requires many pieces and many questions.

First and most obvious- How did Vicky lure in Dale? From previous planning, I've already decided that since they're the same age (maybe one year off), they probably knew each other in school or activities.

Ex: Squirrely Scouts & Cream Puffs... Not unreasonable- Throughout the series, many kids participate and the organizations seem to have a big following in Dimmsdale. Vicky's sister Tootie is in the Cream Puffs and Vicky is seen bossing them around in the Season 0 episode "Scout's Honor" ("Oh Yeah! Cartoons"). There's a comic by the same name depicting Remy in Squirrely Scouts (after "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary" but before he gets his memories back in "Remy Rides Again" and I always thought it was cute). I mean, look at him:

Pictures courtesy of the FOP Wiki

It's not unreasonable that Dale - who's also rich - might've gotten into that (especially since Doug is big on the cowboy theming and of all the rich parents, he's probably the one most okay with his son playing in dirt). Something scout-related could be an option even if Dale and Vicky went to different schools.

A friendship that gets increasingly toxic until it spirals into full-on abuse sounds really interesting (and @nalooksthrough portrayed this idea beautifully imo in THIS comic I can't stop thinking about).

Sounds fun to write, so let's go with that. What's next?

Hey, remember when 7 years ago, I headcanon'd H.P. as Dale's godfather because of this doodle in Da Rules that specifically refers to Pixie godparents and depicts a fluffy-haired kid in a purple shirt?

I recently found out I still had Dale listed as a godchild of H.P. on his full character profile on my fanfic sideblog. I was waffling over whether to retcon that (since I hadn't yet done anything with it), but I started brainstorming whether I COULD do anything with it.

I've always written Wish Fixers in 'fic [e.g. Origin of the Pixies] as a therapy business run by H.P.'s dad (which H.P. bought off him out of spite despite not being licensed for therapy) but, like...

Does Jorgen know H.P. isn't licensed? I can't see why he would... As far as he knows, H.P. owns and runs the place- especially given my lore that Wish Fixers has been in his family for many generations. Sounds qualified to me!

In "School's Out! The Musical" (episode that Da Rules screenshot is from), we learn Pixies are at the back of the line for godparent work, even under creatures like unicorns (Hence the Musical's plot requiring them to remove magical creatures from earth before they could assign themselves to Flappy Bob).

I said in a recent liveblog post that I'd always imagined this was a punishment given to them due to H.P. absolutely failing as godfather to Dale- Thus, the origin of the doodle on the page for that rule. But... I never decided what happened.

See, Dale SEEMS like a guy who would qualify for a fairy. He was probably pretty miserable under Vicky's 7 years of torture and he's still holding onto that trauma in his adulthood.

DID he have a fairy?

I'm just saying, we know from S4's "Wish Fixers" that H.P. is legally(?) allowed to make contracts that swap a fairy godparent with a pixie one if godkids choose to sign of their own free will... Hmm... I'm connecting dots I don't think I like... (I am lying).

I mean?? Dale clearly did not get out of the pit due to magical interference. If I'm committing to the doodle being Dale and reflecting an actual godfather-godson dynamic between him and H.P., then something sure went wrong there. I can't NOT make Dale suffer...

What on earth could've made Dale sign a contract for something a fairy couldn't give him? We know from "Nectar of the Odds" canon that he wished to see his dad, and thanks to previous liveblogs, I DO already have a headcanon of Dale being extremely desperate for his dad's love... Hmm... I can work with that.

I went down a rabbit hole trying to answer the question of how Vicky secured lemons for 7 years for Dale (and other kids) to work with. Here are some lemon tree facts:

- Lemon trees bear fruit after only a few years - They can bear fruit multiple times a year (depending on variety) - A single lemon tree can produce 1,500 lemons in one growing season - Dimmsdale is in California - a state known for lemon orchards.

That feels likely... An orchard of even a few trees can keep you going for a while.

But lemonade doesn't sell for much compared to other things Vicky could've set a kidnapped child up to do (Ex: In "Microphony," she has kids doing a bunch of other tasks like answering phones for her babysitting service, painting houses, and washing cars).

So... WHY lemonade? What is going on that makes this the thing Vicky has Dale do for 7 years?

And who owns the orchard? I need Vicky to obtain lemons without being stopped for 7 years.

Is it a Dimmadome orchard? Maybe, but several episodes imply Vicky's not familiar with the Dimmadomes - and she probably would have turned Dale in for cash reward if given the chance - so those are two things I need to keep in mind.

Does the orchard belong to her family? That's a possibility- Vicky is shown drinking lemonade after "Nectar of the Odds." She definitely could've bought it - It can't be too expensive unless prices were jacked up after she lost her cheap labor - but it's a drink she's seen with in multiple episodes. She definitely likes it.

And we know from "Timmy's 2D House of Horror" that Vicky's parents are terrified of her. It's not likely they'd stop her from taking lemons from the family orchard.

One problem... If Dale goes missing when he's about 9 (Closer to 7 or 8 in my planned timeline), Vicky is also 9 or younger. Are her parents scared of her when she's that small and inexperienced in the ways of the world?

In "The Switch Glitch," she's 5 and seems mild and sweet until 10-year-old Timmy mistreats her- She clearly didn't have memories of Timmy, implying she totally regressed to how she acted when she really was 5. Worth pointing out she goes off the deep end and chains up Cosmo and Wanda, so... she IS mean even at age 5. But also, she's 5. She wears the same purple hair bow in "Switch Glitch" (at 5) that she does when Timmy drains the meanness out of her in "Vicky Loses Her Icky," which is interesting.

So that begs the question... Can I turn my Dale backstory 'fic into a double story of Dale abuse AND Vicky going from a pretty innocent child to Totally Messed Up? Keeping in mind that according to Vicky in A New Wish, Vicky IS the one responsible for abusing him and he "spent 7 years' worth of Saturdays in a factory underneath a lemonade stand."

If that's the way I want to play it... Something happened to send Dale and Vicky down the dual victim-and-abuser path, destinies intertwined. And for some reason, Vicky stuck with the lemonade theme.

Dale just says he spent his Saturdays "in a factory underneath a lemonade stand." It's not out of the question he and Vicky made more lemon products than just lemonade, especially given Vicky's love for money (and those 600 lbs of lemons one tree can produce in a year). We can assume they changed locations a few times or someone would've found the trapdoor on Timmy's lawn. Plus when Dale started his abuse, Vicky hadn't started babysitting Timmy, whom she only met when he was 8.

So, I've set Dale up to be lured in by Vicky because they were friends. I like the idea of things gradually getting worse as Vicky slowly morphs from a friend into a very cruel person. If Vicky was bullying him, what stopped him from just... leaving?

Vicky's transformation was probably subtle if he stayed for so long..... I also pointed out in a recent post that Doug's underground milk empire where he uses hypnotized people for labor bears a striking amount of similarities with Vicky's lemonade stand, even down to the general vibes of "trapdoor entrance" (although it's implied there's another entrance in small building).

And if we want to be technical about things... We don't know if Doug and Dale pressed charges against Vicky. She clearly continues to babysit Timmy and other kids after "Nectar of the Odds" (Season 2).

In Season 4 ("Channel Chasers"), Doug remarks that Timmy's parents should've guessed Vicky was evil because of the Chip Skylark song "Icky Vicky," but he doesn't mention Vicky kidnapping his son. That's.... sus. He even offers to buy a car from her in Season 3's "Engine Blocked" (after Dale's escape).

Why would such a powerful guy let all of that slide? Did they just not have enough proof? Did Vicky wipe the place clean? Did Dale "not want to make a big deal about it" because he was so exhausted and grateful, he just didn't want to think about it or struggle with the legal system? Was he covering for her?? Was he scared to speak up?

... Did Dale not tell his dad the whole truth about where he was?

What if Dale was - in some vague and early concept way - in on the lemonade scheme from the beginning, back when he and Vicky were friends and she wasn't so cruel? Maybe she turned on him and sentenced him to the pit before long?

Why the underground-ness of it? Why the lemonade, which probably doesn't turn much profit... as lemonade. Unless you have unrestrained access to tons of lemons that you can turn into multiple products - Dale DID call it a factory - and no one is stopping you from accessing them...

... but how do you set up a situation where kids have access to a whole lemon orchard - presumably carefully maintained - and the adults don't take it away from them (Because... surely they would've found Dale and multiple other kids if they strayed close).

And Dale didn't leave. He does in "Nectar of the Odds" - apparently of his own volition - but not before. Was he kept there mentally as well as physically?

We KNOW Vicky can't be monitoring him 24/7 because "Nectar of the Odds" is the only episode depicting her paying attention to him, while others show her doing many other things in many other places (though it's worth noting Dale says in that episode that "Vicky's kept him locked up for so long").

Did he stay so long because it was the perceived better fate up until he miraculously crossed paths with his dad (via fairy magic) and took the risk? Would he have gone back in?

Maybe it wasn't supposed to get this out of hand. Dale and Vicky were young when this started... Somewhere between 7 and 9 (given that Dale was kept there for 7 years and Vicky is 16 when he escaped and he tells 9-year-old Dev this happened when he was Dev's age).

Maybe there was an accident. Something not just Vicky, but even Dale felt the need to cover up, especially in regards to the orchard and the fact that it needs to be Vicky's consistent source of lemons (and not something she lost out on before Dale's escape... an illusion of ownership maintained. Kids can't own the orchard, but what if they fooled people into believing it wasn't owned by kids?)

Hmm... some kind of accident that got two mostly innocent kids into huge trouble, thus setting up a horribly intertwined fate where if one of these toxic co-dependent friends backs out and squeals, even the squealer might suffer worse compared to trucking along on the cruel existing path.

tl;dr - if Vicky and Dale accidentally killed the orchard owner but they were kids and terrified to tell an adult lest they go to jail for life so they hid the body in the basement (or like ?? threw it to the coyotes or hyenas that inexplicably lurk on the fringes of Dimmsdale??) and are trying desperately to wipe their hands of this by pretending the lemon orchard is still operational so no one investigates until they can figure out a plan, and then Vicky hardens herself as a trauma response and manipulates Dale into believing it was solely his fault and she'll pin him with murder charges if he gets cold feet and turns her in, and he's miserable and gets a fairy (then loses his fairy via Pixie contract through Wish Fixers, presumably in an attempt to negotiate a way to protect himself from Vicky and somehow not gaining the ire of his father) and then H.P. (lawyer and unlicensed yet de facto therapist pulled two ways) is suddenly Dale's godfather and trying to comprehend what the flip is going on between misery and manslaughter while he's also juggling Gary, Betty, and Flappy Bob at the same time in preparation for the Musical because we know he spent 37 years on that plan...

... Would that be one messed-up yet hyperspecifically canon-compliant 'fic or what?

These thoughts have been haunting me all weekend and I HAD to get my "I'm not that kind of lawyer or therapist" joke out of my system, so there's your context. #Sorry. Is this the direction the actual 'fic will go? ... It's not the direction I really had in mind, but ?? It's off the wall and therefore I must shake it in my teeth. I can't not write Dale backstory this horrific. what. hey.

[cha-melodius]

Heya folks. I've been a bit MIA around here. In the interest of complete honesty, the WIP tag games started feeling more like an obligation than something fun, which is why I haven't participated much recently. It's not that I don't want to share, and not that I don't love seeing what people are up to and getting tagged—please don't take this as you shouldn't tag me. But for my own mental health, I'm gonna come in, drop a snippet, and leave an open tag. I just don't have the bandwith for more right now, and I hope y'all understand. 💕

Anyway, here's wonderwall a snippet.

“Are you buckled in?” Alex interrupts. Ahead, the road snakes closer to them again, achingly close but still inaccessible. Or maybe not. “What?” Henry croaks. “You’re seatbelt, are you buckled in?” “Yes, but—” Alex wrenches the wheel hard to the right at a pull-off for a scenic overlook, sending them careening through the low brush and down the hill. The truck creaks and groans, the steering wheel shaking frighteningly in Alex’s white-knuckle grip as it bounces over the uneven terrain, but it holds together. Henry, however, might not be; Alex is fairly certain he’d be peeling Henry off the roof if he weren’t strapped down. His fingers are digging bruises into Alex’s arm, and he might be yelling, but Alex can’t focus on anything that isn’t getting them down the hill in one piece. He swerves around a large tree with low-hanging branches at the bottom, then finally crashes onto the road, stomping on the gas to send the truck rocketing off to the south on a considerably more direct shot. “Are you insane?” Henry yells, more than a little hysterically. “Worked didn’t it?” Alex counters, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Thanks to @suseagull04, @sparklepocalypse, @thesleepyskipper, and @loki-is-my-kink-awakening for the tags today, and everyone who's tagged me in the last couple of weeks. As I mentioned above please feel free to take an open tag if you want to share!

[pulisicsgirl]

dad to the rescue - christian pulisic

summary: when Y/N and Christian's daughter is frightened of the doctor, Christian comes to the rescue to calm her fears

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 2.0k

warnings/tags: descriptions of a doctor's office, needles/injections, anxiety, lots and lots of fluff

requested: no

notes: Hey y'all! I've been feeling pretty uninspired recently, but I have more time to right now that school is out. So I decided to rewrite this old fic that I wrote several years ago for another fandom to try to get the creativity flowing! So if you read a fic similar to this for someone else years ago, no you didn't. It's definitely not my favorite thing that I've written, but hopefully, it'll get the ball rolling!

“Mommy, I don’t like the doctor. It’s scary,” Lily whimpered as you helped her climb out of her car seat and onto the pavement.

You glanced nervously over at Christian, pleading silently for his help. You were naturally a nervous person—a trait that was dialed up to 11 when it came to your daughter. You were just as terrified, if not more so, than your daughter for this visit. Knowing that she was scheduled to receive an injection, you had convinced Christian to take the day to leave training early and accompany the two of you to the appointment—he always knew how to help in these situations.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. You’ve got Mommy and Daddy here with you, and…” He trailed off, squatting down so that he was on her level, and he loudly whispered, “I hear they have toys in the waiting room!”

Lily’s face brightened instantly at his words. “D’you want to go find out?” he asked her excitedly, and Lily nodded her head quickly. Christian sprung to his feet, and the two of them raced to the door, hand-in-hand, squealing giddily as I watched them with a huge smile spreading across my face.

Christian pulled open one of the doors, letting Layla speed through and waiting behind to hold it open for me to walk through. He gestured for you to pass, muttering a short, “m’lady,” as you walked through, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes at him.

Lily was inside, trying her hardest to pull open the second set of doors, but it was too heavy for her small self. You reached forward, pulling lightly on the door, and she gasped, thinking she had finally gotten the door to budge on her own, before racing through and straight into the waiting room.

Christian followed in behind you, placing a gentle hand on your lower back. You spun around, pulling him toward you with a firm grip on his shirt and planted a long, firm kiss on his lips. When you pulled away, he had a massive grin on his face.

“What was that for?” he asked, still smirking down at you.

“No reason in particular,” you shrugged, holding back a grin of your own.

“Well, whatever I did, I should do it more often,” he leaned down, pecking your lips once again.

You swatted his chest, gently pushing him away. “You have a daughter in there that has been promised toys and playtime, so you better join her. I’ll sign her in,” you said, pointing to the door of the waiting room.

“Yes ma’am,” he retorted with a short salute, and you punched his shoulder. “Okay, okay, I’m going!” He grinned from ear to ear as he quickly joined Lily in the waiting room.

You turned around, heading to the front desk to sign in and receiving a clipboard with paperwork to fill out.

You sat in the waiting room, occupying your time by filling out the papers and occasionally glancing up to watch your husband and daughter playing enthusiastically with the toy cars. You couldn't help but smile as Christian made motor noises and loud honking sounds with his mouth as he wheeled the cars across the playmat toward Lily.

Before long, a nurse came to the door, sweetly calling out, “Lilian Pulisic?” even though the three of you were the only ones there.

“That’s us!” Christian smiled, standing from the floor and taking Lily’s hand, sensing that her nerves had quickly returned with the appearance of the nurse. As he led her over to the nurse, the fear was back on her face as she clung tightly to his arm, but she seemed to be slightly more confident as she walked with him.

The nurse weighed her and measured her height. Lily jumped up and down when the nurse told her that she’d grown 3 inches in the last year. After taking a few more measurements, the nurse led your little family into a small exam room and let you know that the doctor would be there soon.

You and Christian sat down in the chairs as you watched Lily wander the room, pointing out the various animals painted along the walls of the room. You pulled Christian’s hand into your lap, intertwining your fingers with his and gripping it tightly. Your worry for your daughter had quickly returned as you sat down in the hard, plastic chairs, and Christian sensed this, beginning to run his thumb over the back of your hand in an effort to soothe you.

A few minutes later, a young female doctor walked in, stethoscope hanging around her neck and computer in hand. Christian lifted Lily to sit on the exam table before settling back into his seat next to you.

“Hello there! You must be Lilian!” the doctor greeted warmly. “Do you go by Lilian?”

Lily remained silent, glancing nervously over at you with wide eyes.

“Go on, it’s okay,” Christian encouraged her softly.

She looked back at the doctor, replying with a quiet, “My name’s Lily.”

“Oh wow! Your name is so beautiful!” the doctor said excitedly, and a small smile appeared on Lily’s face. “Well, my name is Dr. Jones, but you can call me Anna.” Lily giggled and you could tell that she was already warming up to the doctor.

The appointment continued normally and Lily grew confident enough to answer most of the questions on her own, which caused your heart to swell with pride. Anna only turned to you and Christian to get more precise answers about Lily’s eating and sleeping habits.

Anna listened to her heart, took her blood pressure, and checked over every part of Lily’s body, from her head to her toes. Lily laughed especially hard when Anna looked in her ears (she told you between giggles that it tickles) and when she used the mallet on Lily’s leg to check her reflexes.

“Alright, we’ve just got one more thing to do and then you can go home!” Anna said as the appointment seemed to be coming to its end. “I see we’re scheduled for a vaccine today?” she asked, glancing at you and Christian for confirmation.

“Alright, so what we’re gonna do, is we’re gonna give you a little shot right here,” she explained, drawing a small circle on Lily’s left arm. “I know that sounds really scary, but it’ll feel like a little pinch, and then it’ll be over, okay?” Lily seemed a little uncertain, but otherwise fine. Anna left, but not before explaining that the nurse from before would be back in shortly and giving Lily a high five on her way out the door.

Just moments later, the nurse returned, carrying a tray with some alcohol swabs and a needle on it. The moment Lily laid eyes on the tray, she began to panic.

“Mommy, I don’t want a shot,” she cried, the tears quickly welling up in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. You jumped up from your chair as she reached out for you, rushing to her side and hugging her tightly as she cried.

It hurt you to see her this scared. You swallowed the lump in your throat, doing your best to speak softly and calmly to her. “Shh, baby, it’s okay. You heard Dr. Jones! It’s just a small pinch and then it’s over. You can do this!”

Your words seemed to do nothing to calm Lily nerves, and she whimpered, pulling you closer by the fabric of your shirt.

You felt Christian’s hand on your back, telling you that he was standing just behind you. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, whispering in your ear, “Here, let me.”

You stepped back, watching as Christian sat on the table next to Lily, holding your shaking daughter as she clung tightly to him. He shrugged the jacket he was wearing from his shoulders, pulling the short sleeve of his T-shirt up and over his left shoulder.

“Hey, look here,” he spoke soothingly to Lily, holding out his tattooed arm for her to look at. She slowly looked away from the nurse, who was preparing for the shot. “Tell me all of the things you see on my arm.”

Lily sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve, but her crying seemed to be slowing down now. She ran her small hand along his arm, trying to find something.

“There’s a tiger,” she spoke slowly. Christian turned his arm so that she could see the face of the tiger more clearly.

“Very good!” Christian exclaimed, and a small smile appeared on Lily’s face. “Now try to find something else.” He glanced at you as she continued looking, shooting you a quick smile before returning his attention back to his little girl.

Lily jumped as the nurse wiped her arm with the cold alcohol swab, her focus leaving Christian’s arm as the fear in her eyes returned.

“It’s okay. She’s just cleaning your arm,” Christian explained sweetly. “Keep looking.”

“S-some letters,” she stuttered, pointing at Christian’s wrist. He nodded with a short “mhm.” Her fingers trailed up to Christian’s shoulder. “A bird.” She brushed her fingers across his skin, down the inside of his arm. “And that’s Mike.” A short giggle fell from her lips as she reached the tattoo of the one-eyed, green monster from Monsters Inc., a movie that she had watched many times with her father.

Christian noticed the nurse uncapping the needle, and he moved to point out something else so Lily would remain distracted. He flipped his arm over, pointing to the chess piece on his forearm. “And this here is a chess piece. It’s called the queen.” Lily tapped the inked game piece with her fingers, clueless to the movements of the nurse next to her.

As the nurse put the needle in her arm, Lily whimpered quietly. She gripped Christian’s arm tightly in her small fingers, clamping her eyes shut as she let out a small cry.

But the shot was over as quickly as it had started.

“It’s over,” Christian spoke to her, kissing the top of her head while she still held tightly to his arm. Lily looked up at his face, and Christian's heart tightened a little as he wiped the tear streaks away with his thumb. “You’re okay, sweetie. We’re all done.”

The nurse put a bandage on Lily’s shoulder as Christian slipped his arms back into his jacket.

Soon enough, we were dismissed from the room, and Lily reached out for Christian to pick her up. She lifted her arms into the air toward him, wiggling her fingers with droopy eyes—clearly exhausted from the whole ordeal. She was barely awake enough in his arms to pick out a sticker before dropping her head onto his shoulder as you signed her out.

The three of you walked out the front doors of the office and to the car. Christian carefully shuffled the small girl out of his arms and into her car seat as you held the door open. Lily had managed to fall fast asleep in the time it took to reach the car.

You closed the door gently, attempting to keep from waking her up. You softly pushed Christian into the side of the car, resting your hands on both of his cheeks as you planted a firm kiss to his lips.

When you pulled back, Christian had a confused but pleased grin on his face.

“You’re incredible. You know that?” you asked as you felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you further into his body.

“You really think so?”

You nodded in response. “You have such a way with her. I would’ve absolutely been freaking out along with her.”

He quickly kissed you again, a mischievous smile on his lips. “You know,” he started slowly, his smile only growing as he spoke. “We could always have another one.”

“Now you’re getting ahead of yourself, Pulisic,” you laughed, pulling away from him and beginning to walk around the car to get in on the passenger side. He reached to try to slap your butt as you walked away, but you jumped out of the way, dodging his hand and causing both of you to giggle as you ran around the car.

You heard him call from the other side of the vehicle. “You didn’t say no!”

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