#twenty twenty tiff

[nkakiana]

Deserved it.

[theemporium]

I am in the mood for some SugarDaddy! Seb that’s all fluffy ❤️ please and thank you!!! 🙏🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Sebastian.”

The boy glared at you from the other side of the counter. 

“I said I was sorry,” you tried again, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to look a little more controlled. But in all honesty, the argument had been going on since you stepped into his apartment and you weren’t sure how much longer your patience could handle it.

Yet, Sebastian remained silent and stubborn. 

“It was just a coffee,” you groaned, your eyes darting over to the stupid cup that had essentially caused the tiff between you two.

“An outrageously priced coffee,” Sebastian corrected, something in his tone making you stand a little straighter in your sport. “One that you paid for with your own card.”

You sighed. “Seb—”

But the boy shut you down with a pointed look. 

The whole thing was utterly ridiculous. You had just finished running the few errands you needed to tick off on your day off before you headed to Sebastian’s apartment on the fancier side of town. You thought you would be sweet, stop by one of your favourite bakeries on this side of town and maybe get Sebastian something too.

You didn’t think it was that big of a deal that you instinctively reached for your own card instead of the one he had given you. And yet, here you were, still arguing over it almost twenty minutes later.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you said to your boyfriend but his frown deepened.

“It’s a big deal to me, schatz,” Sebastian replied, a crease between his furrowed brows that you just wanted to smooth out with your thumb. 

You rounded the counter, leaving your coffees and the sweet treats you bought on the other side as you stepped into Sebastian’s space. Despite his annoyance, he wasted no time in opening his arms for you and letting you settle against him as you wound your arms around his waist. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again, though it was a little softer and less brattish this time around. “You know I didn’t do it on purpose to spite you or anything. It was a simple accident.” 

Sebastian hummed, pressing his lips together.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll even let you buy me some outrageously expensive gift and I promise I won’t even complain about how many zeroes are on the end of it,” you bargained with a hopeful smile on your face.

You watched his expression closely as a slow grin began to spread across his face before he leaned down to kiss you. 

“Deal,” he murmured between soft pecks, but his quick acceptance made you pull back and narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“You weren’t pissed at all, were you?” You accused, watching his expression fill with glee. He wasn’t even ashamed of his tactics. “This was your plan all along, huh?”

“And now you can’t take it back,” he retorted, leaning down to kiss you again. “You just have to sit there and look pretty whilst I choose what yacht to get you.” 

“Sebastian!”

“Kidding. I am actually thinking about a helicopter—”

“Oh my god.”

.

[strawhbrrries]

Cowgirl

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: a trip to the store with your dad’s best friend ends in a lack of a swimsuit and the feeling of his beard scratching you forever engraved in your mind.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, no real sex, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 2711 words

author’s note: the line “ride cowgirl” in pyramid by frank ocean inspired this whole fic, which i kinda wanna make into multiple fics?? a story if you will?? anyway, i think this is a huge step up from my last writing piece so please enjoy :)

read the sequel ride, cowgirl !

“I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons, babe.” You sang along to the song blaring from your dad’s speaker, you hijacked it when he went inside to get more beer for him and his friends, swinging your hips and slowly spinning in a circle. Your music was way better than his divorced dad rock music, which you secretly enjoyed, and if you were going to enjoy the get together he was throwing you were absolutely going to play your own music. 

“But you keep fronting.” Tiffany, your long time best friend, sang back into the imaginary microphone in her hand as she pranced around you in a circle. The two of you putting on a performance to the imaginary crowd in your backyard, or so you thought. Twenty feet away, sitting in perfect position across the fire to watch you swing your hips around, was your dad’s best friend Frank.

Frank was only half listening to the conversation between the men around him, he was more focused on the way you danced and how it was making him rethink every decision he ever made and was about to make, his knuckles going white from the grip he had on the bottle in his hand. Sure, he’d always known you were a gorgeous girl but something about tonight was different. The fire barely illuminating your skin softly had him wanting to slide behind you as your hips moved in time with the song, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck before moving to your ear where he whispered promises of what he’d do to you later. He took a sip of the lukewarm beer, watching you for a second more before turning back to whatever bullshit conversation that was going on. It paled in comparison to you. Currently, everything did. 

The summers in Texas were your favorite, the air was never too humid and warmed you up when the wind came through at night, the lightning bugs never failed to show up every night and lit up the trees if you paid enough attention. Truthfully you were biased, but the thing that made them truly the best was having no true responsibilities again and you would always enjoy that, especially when your beloved dad bought your alcohol for three months. One of your favorite perks was the swimming pool, you were either swimming with a few of your friends or tanning on the side but you were almost always found by it. The swimsuits you typically donned weren’t the slightest bit modest, and now wasn’t any different. You were barely covered in a green bikini, the top consisting of two triangles and a string, and the bottoms high cut and covered with a mesh skirt. 

“Castle, how’s work been man? Ain’t heard much bout it ‘n normally ya don’t shut up bout it.” Goddamnit is all Frank thought as your dad dragged him back into the conversation, ruining the imagery in his head. If looks could kill, the one he shot your dad would’ve murdered him beyond recognition. “‘s alright, busy. Always picks up in the summertime. Ready to have some more downtime, spend it with family.” More like with your daughter. 

“I hear ya. Promise ol’ girl over there we’d do some family shit this summer, if business keeps the way it is I ain’t too sure how well I can keep that promise.” Your dad responded, pointing you out to the guys as if Frank hadn’t been oogling you all night. You and Tiff had stopped dancing to the music and instead opted to sitting with your legs in the pool, gossiping about town drama and Tiff’s newest boy of the week. 

“Understandable, if ya’ll need anything just holler at me.” Frank responded, ready for the conversation to be done, ready to continue watching you like a creep from afar. He’d be a creep if it meant staring at you all night, he’d be a creep if it meant a chance to feel your hair wrapped around his hand while he-

“Dad, Tiff and I are going to get snacks from the gas station!” You called out happily, ripping Frank out of his delusion with the angelic smile of yours, walking over to the group of men surrounding the fire. 

“C’mere, I’ll give you my card so you can get some more drinks.” You happily grabbed the card from your dad, bending over to give him a small hug. Frank was no better than the next man, he scratched at his scruff as he admired the way the green of your bikini complimented the tan skin threatening to spill from the lack of support. 

“Frank, can you drive us? It’s dark and neither of us wanna drive.” It was like the perfect opportunity fell right into his lap and he’d be damned if he wasn’t taking it. The smile you were flashing him made him want to get down on his knees and beg, a god he wasn’t sure existed for, forgiveness for what he was about to do. 

“Course darlin’, let me get my wallet.” He looked at your dad who seemed to have no qualms about the situation before getting out of the chair, placing his mostly empty bottle of now warm beer on the ground and following you into the house. 

“I’m gonna go put a shirt on, give me a second.” Up until tonight, much like Frank with you, you hadn’t noticed how attractive he was. Older men had always excited you but this was different. Frank was big, strong, rough around the edges but had that southern hospitality you loved. You couldn’t help but think about how his scruff would feel rubbing against your skin, would it leave redness in its wake? would it help spur your orgasm as he fucked you with his fingers? 

You picked up some oversized t shirt that probably once belonged to your dad and put it on, shaking your head as if it would get rid of the thoughts. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head out. Horrible timing I know! But y’know, boy of the week is calling.” Tiff spoke, her expression clearly apologetic, giving you a hug and promising to make plans for later this week before grabbing her things and leaving.

“So for taking so long, got caught up in my thoughts.” Of you. You smiled softly, suddenly aware of how the sun had brought out freckles you didn’t know he had and how muscular he truly was.

“‘S alright, lets get goin’ ‘for your dad starts wonderin’.” He matched your smile, placing his hand on the small of your back as the two of you walked out of the house and to his truck. You were painfully aware of how big his hands felt, triggering your mind to think about his fingers. You rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension aching at your core, it felt so taboo to lust after a man your dad’s age. Not just his age! His own best friend! 

The trip to the gas station was uneventful, unfortunately, the two of you exchanged conversation like the tension wasn’t thick enough to cut. Like Frank’s jeans were getting uncomfortably tight and your bikini bottoms uncomfortably wet. Like neither of you wanted to jump the bones of the other person.

“Hey, Frank?” You asked softly, trying to gain the courage to ask the question you wanted the answer to.

“Darlin’?” He put the car in park, looking over at you expecting you to call him every disgusting name under the sun for his thoughts about you tonight.

“Do you, uhm…”

“I’m not a mind reader, baby.” At first you thought you imagined the word, that he didn’t actually say it but it was your imagination fueling the growing fire you had for Frank Castle. But he did say it, and he did it on purpose. Testing the waters, seeing how far he could go without making you uncomfortable. 

“Have you ever been with someone younger?” Not the fucking question, idiot. You scolded yourself, you didn’t want to know the answer to this. What if his answer was yes and you were imagining his interest in you, that you weren’t special. 

“No, I uh haven’t. Not yet, anyway.” There he went again, saying things that made you think you were imagining it. Maybe you’d wake up any minute and none of it was real. He could see the wheels turning in your head, you were a smart girl and he knew that. 

You, timidly, leaned over the console of his truck and experimentally ran your fingers through his scruff. You’d never been with a man, much less a man with a beard, you’d only been with what your father classified as boys. Frank leaned into your touch, placing his hand on top of yours and dragging it to his lips. Placing kisses on your palm, keeping eye contact with you. You were having trouble breathing, he was going to kill you. The beautiful hunk of a man was going to be the cause of your death, you’d make sure Tiff had it written on your tombstone. “Death by Frank Castle.”

Frank let your hand drop into your lap, threading his own hand through your hair to grab the back of your head and pull you closer to him. He leaned forward to meet you halfway, eyes scanning your face just taking in your beauty. His lips were made to fit yours, you were convinced, moving in motion with yours. His beard scratching your skin deliciously, his fingers wrapping themselves in your hair, his scent. He was everywhere, he consumed you. 

“Need you, Frank please.” You breathed, pleading with him. “Need you so bad, need to feel you, your fingers.” You carried on, your voice sounding like you were on the verge of tears. 

“Baby, not here.” He spoke softly, committing the way you sounded to memory for him to reference later when he was alone, “I’ll get you off though. Make you cum, all over my seat.” 

His words eliciting a whimper, you’d take anything he was willing to give you. It didn’t matter that anyone could see into his truck at any moment, made the situation so much more intense. He tapped your thigh, signaling he wanted you to open your legs. 

Frank let his fingers dance over the exposed skin your lack of pants left, dragging them up your thighs slowly. Painfully slow. He left open mouth kisses down your neck, occasionally biting and soothing the bite with his tongue. What felt like a decade later his middle finger traced your clothed folds, chuckling into your neck at how wet you were. You bucked your hips at the stimulation, earning another chuckle from the man in the driver’s seat, you were dying to receive some more stimulation from him. At this point, you’d sell a kidney and probably your soul to just have a singular finger inside you. You’d probably sell his soul too.

He dipped a finger underneath your swimsuit, groaning at how wet you truly were and that he was the cause of it all. His dreams were, partially, coming true and he needed to thank the heavens and the stars. Your moans and whimpers were music to Frank’s ears and he’d do anything and everything to keep them coming, to keep those angelic noises from leaving your pretty mouth. The truck was silent except for your noises and the squelch of Frank playing with your pussy.

“‘S wet, pretty girl. All for me? Did I do this to you, baby?” He taunted you, sliding his finger through your folds and swirling your clit as he waited for an answer.

“All for you, promise.” You whined, leaning your head against him, sweat beading on your skin as the car started to heat up from the summer air and the actions being performed. 

Your pleas were answered when he finally plunged a finger inside of you, pulling it all the way out and admiring how it glistened in the light provided by the street light in the corner of a parking lot. He did this a few times, thrusting his finger in and pulling it all the way back out before plunging it back inside of you. His lips found your neck again, moving your head back to the original position it was in, kissing every spot of open skin he could reach. As if he read your mind, he inserted another finger alongside the one already inside. The stretch burned in a way that made you feel alive, made you feel on top of the world. All because Frank’s fingers were inside you. God, his fingers were big. So big it made you think about how right your dad had been to call everyone else a boy and not a man. So big all you could do was think about how big his cock must be, if his jeans were any indication you were in for a real treat. Not here though, stupid stupid gas station stupid truck. Your thoughts soon turned to mush.

His fingers curled right against the spongy spot inside of you, hitting it over and over again, he readjusted his hand to put his thumb on your clit.

“C’mon pretty girl, let go for me.” He spoke low, trailing kisses back up your neck and nipping at your earlobe. 

You could feel the warmth growing in your stomach, the knots forming into bigger knots and then even bigger knots. Could feel the heat spreading throughout your body, your orgasm so close you could taste it. It was right there, his fingers hitting all the right spots and his thumb working wonders on your clit, his scruff scratching your skin and his mouth kissing everywhere. He was suffocating you in all the best ways possible. All you could see, hear, smell and taste was Frank fucking Castle.

Stars. Your vision turned to stars as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking in the passenger seat as he fucked you with his fingers. Those damn fingers. You couldn’t see anything but stars, for all you knew you had gone to heaven and it was thanks to the magical orgasm given to you at the hands of your new god. 

When you came down from your high, Frank was whispering how well you had done and how pretty you were. He was caressing your thigh and placing kisses to your head. 

“Did so good, gonna get me addicted.” He reached behind your seat and handed you a water bottle, opening it and holding the lid so you could drink it.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him, that killer smile that got him here in the first place. He truly was going to get addicted to you and he had no complaints about it, could die a happy man tonight if fingering you in his passenger seat is all he gets to do to you. His phone ringing in his pocket brought him back to the situation at hand.

Shit. Both of you thought, remembering what you were supposed to be doing and how it was now an entire forty-five minutes later.

“Hey, ah yeah we’re good. Small fender bender, yeah….to make it all worse the gas station was closed when we got here.” Frank spoke to your dad on the phone, coming up with a lie like his life depended on it and he hadn’t just fingered you to the edge of your life. “Should be back soon, don’t worry man. I’m keepin’ her safe, precious cargo.”

You chuckled softly at his sentence, relaxing completely in the seat and taking a few sips of water, thinking about the future of your relationship with him. Or whatever it was, you made out and he had his fingers inside you but that didn’t mean shit. What if he regretted it and now didn’t want anything to do with you, what if he was too worried about his friendship with your dad?

“Quit thinkin’ too much. We’ll figure out whatever this is, all I know for sure is I need to see you again. And you to ride me, like a fuckin’ cowgirl. Ya hear?”

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part One / Part Two / Part Three PART FOUR YOU ARE HERE Part five 

As always I own my entire soul to  @chalkysgarbagefire

Steve didn't show up to lunch that Monday. 

This was a problem, because Gareth and Eddie had carefully prepared the entirety of Hellfire to help make Steve play a D&D one-shot. 

(Well, mostly Eddie--and he'd left out the parts about how the entire goal was to acclimate Harrington to hugs and high fives. 

Gareth assumed that was a more careful conversation they'd all have later, outside of school grounds.) 

"Eds, if you jiggle your legs any harder the table is going to take flight." Gareth complained, scooting away before he got jabbed in the gut. 

"Where is he!?" Eddie muttered, glancing at his watch for what had to be the twenty-fifth time. “Are we sure he showed up to class this morning?" 

Stewart, the only person to share a class with Harrington, gave their leader an exasperated look. "Yes, I’m sure." 

He flicked his spoon, pointing it towards Eddie. "And yes he looked fine, yes, everything seemed normal, no I don't know why he's not here and no, no one fucking abducted him, or threatened him, or any of the other crazy excuses you keep coming up with!” 

Eddie’s frown deepened as Gareth and Grant traded concerned glances. 

"Maybe he just didn't want to sit with us today." Jeff remarked, approaching the topic with the same care a technician had when approaching a live bomb. 

Gareth thought it was a smart move, considering Eddie looked like he was about to rocket into the ceiling. 

"He's sat with us everyday, why would he change now?"  Eddie argued. 

"Maybe there's a basketball thing happening. Or he's saying hi to his jock buddies." Gareth tried, using the same cautious tone Jeff had. 

"We’re his friends!" Eddie snapped, looking two seconds away from losing his shit entirely.

 Almost unconsciously, Gareth and Jeff both raised a hand almost to try and help calm him.

Like he was a wild horse and they were the preteen girls in the movies determined to establish a bond before he killed their grandpa or some shit. 

This was what happened when one deviated from a predetermined Munson-made plan. Not that Steve had known that of course, but then, he wasn’t exactly catching the fallout, was he?

‘I am making Harrington buy lunch after this.’ Gareth thought, as Eddie returned to bouncing both his legs almost frantically. ‘From someplace expensive.’ 

"Maybe Hargrove ate him."  Grant suggested, as if the very thought of Billy Hargrove wouldn’t set Eddie off on a rampage. 

"I could see it." Stewart agreed. "Dude has cannibal vibes." 

"Not. Helping." Jeff hissed, his palm still in the air and hovering vaguely over Eddie’s shoulder. 

Sure enough, Eddie’s entire body tensed at the mere mention of Hawkin High’s new King. "That’s it. We’re going to find him.” 

“Have fun.” Tiff said, waving him off. 

Eddie glared. “We’re all going.” He practically spat.

With a put upon sigh, Tiff set her food down. "You really want to spend the rest of our lunch period stalking around the hallways looking for Harrington?" 

Eddie gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white. 

"Yes Tiff, I do." He said, a manic gleam in his eyes. 

He shoved up from the table, striking the kind of pose he often used during his rants. “This is a break in a pattern of behavior. A veer from an established path! This is the very first sign in every horror movie that something is wrong!” 

He went to put his foot up on the edge of the table, like a pirate captain looking to the seas ahead, but instead missed it entirely and fell forward. 

Eddie flailed for a moment, before managing to catch himself on the edge of the table. Instantly he began acting like he’d intended to fall like that from the start. 

“I refuse to let any of us behave like idiotic, stupid, horror movie characters.” He finished dramatically, hair hanging in his face. 

“You’ve been watching that Sherlock Holmes show again, haven’t you?.” Jeff asked him flatly. 

“Among other things.” Gareth muttered, because as usual, he was the one who’d been watching said shows and movies with Eddie.

Not that it bothered him any, just that it meant he got to watch his best friend adopt new behaviors in real time. 

Eddie flew back up, flinging his hair out of his face with a dramatic toss of his head. 

“Come on my Watson’s! Let’s go find Harrington. I have a one-shot to pitch dammit!” Eddie outright yelled, flinging his arm skyward once again. 

He got several startled glances in the cafeteria for it, but as used to Eddie as they all were, no one bothered to say anything to him. 

“Why the fuck would we all be Watson?” Stewart muttered as he stood. 

“I agree. Obviously, I’d be Watson.” Gareth said, also getting to his feet. “You’d be Mrs. Hudson.” 

“Oh fuck you, I would at least be the other crazy smart dude.” 

“Mycroft or Moriarty?”

“Mycroft.” Grant and Jeff chanted as one, the both of them putting their food away. 

“Not one of you is any Sherlock Holmes character. Except maybe the dog.” Tiff cut in with an eye roll as she finally gave in and stood herself. "Now come on, let's go take Eddie for a walk." 

Said metalhead flipped her the bird, but otherwise didn't protest. 

(Probably because this wasn't the first time they'd had to do laps with Eddie.) 

xXx

"Maybe he just went home." Gareth said reasonably some fifteen or so minutes later. 

They'd made their way through the school, Eddie obnoxiously bursting through all the bathroom doors to loudly (and embarrassingly) yell for Steve.

They hadn't seen hide nor perfectly shaped hair of their wayward jock, and none of them were looking forward to trapezing around the outside of the school to hunt for him.

Thankfully, they didn't have to. 

"Wait.” Tiffany asked, as they passed by the small little hallway leading to the art and photography rooms. “Is that Steve?"

Immediately all heads turned towards the direction she had pointed in. 

"I think so?" Jeff guessed, eyeing the guy standing in the hallway down from them. 

Gareth squinted, trying to get a better look. "Looks like." He agreed. "Also looks like Tiff was right, he is hanging out with other people." 

Eddie tensed at that. A true feat, Gareth thought, because he was already wound so tight he looked in danger of snapping in half. 

 "Fucking useless." Tiff muttered. 

Louder, she said; "Let's try that again. Isn't that our idiot jock with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she supposedly cheated on him with?" 

The lot of them watched as Steve stood in one of his classic defensive positions (arms tucked into his sides, back rigid and chin down, like he was about to perform some kind of football tackle.) 

Nancy Wheeler faced him, her own chin raised and her arms crossed like she was about to give the lecture of a lifetime. 

In between them stood Jonathan Byers, though he was angled more towards his girlfriend than Steve. The guy practically radiated discomfort but seemed to be managing. 

Even if his shoulders were practically above his ears.  

It didn't exactly look like a two on one situation, but then it didn't not look like it either. 

"Shit." Gareth said, which summed up the situation rather nicely. 

"Should we go save him?" Grant asked, concerned. 

Not one person moved.

 Instead, all eyes went to their fearless leader--who was uncharacteristically silent. 

Gareth took in the narrowed, frantic-turned-furious look upon his friend's face and wondered vaguely if he was going to have to stop a murder today.

Possibly two, depending on Byer’s involvement. 

"Defensive position boys!" Tiffany called out, breaking the spell with sheer volume as she made the decision for them. "Eddie, you with us or not?" 

Brave words for her, considering Gareth knew damn well that Tiff was often more bark than bite. 

Thankfully, it worked. 

"Right!" Eddie barked, jerking in place as he came back to himself. "Our Stevie needs us, men and Tiff!" 

He pointed forwards, like a war general leading a charge. "Hellfire, move out!" 

Fanning out into a triangle behind their club president, the lot of them followed as Eddie marched forward. 

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Nancy was saying, and even though Gareth didn't know her he could tell she was frustrated. 

 "You have people you can talk to. You have m--" she cut herself off when Eddie strode up next to Steve. 

Then blinked rapidly, reminding Gareth of a startled cocker spaniel when the rest of Hellfire fanned out around Harrington like wolves guarding their young. 

(Or brightly colored and very angry ducks, but wolves sounded cooler. 

Plus the last time he'd said something like this aloud; Grant had loudly informed him it was actually Muskox that made protective circles, Stewart brought up that triceratops were cooler, Jeff decided they should be bees and Tiffany had gone off on a tangent about badly done animal behavioral studies.) 

"I daresay I agree!" Eddie said, taking a dramatic leap forward and startling Steve and Byers both. 

That alone was a cause to worry--Gareth couldn't recall a single time Steve wasn't hyper-aware of his surroundings enough to get properly lost in it. 

At least lost enough that he missed an entire group of people approaching. 

"Steve is more than welcome to talk to people! His people." Eddie leaned forward a touch, the smirk on his face the one he used when he was playing up his role as the town's satanist cult leader. 

To her credit, Nancy recovered remarkably fast. "I take it you believe that's you?" 

Eddie reared back, like a cobra rising to strike. "Why Nancy Wheeler, Stevie here is an adult and can choose who he wants to talk to.”

He turned, one hand over his heart and the other held out to Steve. " Ain’t that right, big boy?”

Nancy and Byers both just stared. 

Gareth couldn’t blame them, he was staring too. 

Apparently deciding Eddie was too ridiculous to deal with, Nancy returned instead to talking to Steve--who, Gareth noted with more than his fair share of pride, looked a bit more grounded now that Hellfire had arrived. 

“I understand that we’re in a weird place right now, but you have to  know I still care about you, right?” Nancy bit her lip, clearly unhappy to have an audience but plowing ahead anyway. 

"I'm fine, Nance.” Steve told her, voice steady, but growing flat. 

 He was shutting down--shutting her out, if not everyone out. Gareth knew, if only because he’d watched Harrington do it to them more than once. 

(Knew because he himself had shut downs just like this. Eddie and Nancy were the kind of people who got loud in their anger, demanding people see and face them. 

Gareth on the other hand, even with his more explosive temper, often ended up more like Steve when faced with breakdowns with people he cared about. He didn’t want to hurt them. To say the wrong thing, to lash out when someone was just trying to help.

It was safer to shut up, back away and put some distance between yourself and whoever had pissed you off.) 

Either Nancy wasn’t aware of that or was too deep into her own emotions to see it, because she took a half step forward. “I know you’re not fine. I know you, Steve.” 

“Not anymore you don’t.” Steve responded, and Gareth wondered if he realized he was leaning away from her--and towards Eddie. 

Considering the way Wheeler’s eyes bounced between them, he knew she definitely had. 

Quite possible Byers too, from how he had to stop himself from pulling Nancy away. 

“I’ve been working hard to become someone else.” Steve added. “So you don’t have to feel responsible for me. I’m not your problem anymore.”  He spoke without malice, just with the pure emptiness of someone who completely believed everything he said. 

“Steve-” Nancy protested, but Eddie cut her off. 

"You heard him." He said, peacocking his little social win in a way only Eddie could. "Now if you don't mind, I have extremely important things to discuss and you have cut drastically into my time." 

He flicked his fingers in a shoo gesture, one that made Nancy's eyes spark in a way that quite frankly, terrified Gareth. 

"Fine." She grit out through clenched teeth. "You know I’m always available to talk, Steve." 

She strode off, passing Steve and the rest of Hellfire without a glance backwards. 

"Sorry man." Jonathan muttered apologetically to Steve as he passed, following after his girlfriend. 

Steve waved him off. 

"Well she's just a delight." Jeff muttered, once Nancy was well out of hearing range. 

Steve's entire chest heaved in a sigh, swaying slightly backwards as if the entire confrontation had physically drained him. 

"She's trying to help.” Steve muttered softly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She's just...coming at it wrong." 

He turned, seeming to finally notice that all of Hellfire was there. "What are you all doing out here anyway?" 

"Rescuing you." Grant informed him. 

"From Nancy and Jonathan?"  Steve said in disbelief. 

Like Byers hadn't supposedly kicked his ass already. Nevermind the moping Wheeler had caused. 

(The entire school had witnessed the moping. 

It was, after all, part of what had drawn Eddie to Steve.) 

"Yes." Tiff replied bluntly. “Also if she corners you like that again, I will make it my personal mission in life to top all her test scores.” 

"I--okay." Steve blinked rapidly, clearly unsure of how to process that.

“Not that I needed rescuing,” He continued after a moment, staring at the whole group. “But why were you looking for me in the first place?” 

His voice was slowly recovering, coming out of that weird flatness it had scrunched itself into. It was an excellent sign, a sign of trust, and Gareth leapt to keep it before someone could say something stupid and fuck it up. 

"Eddie needed you to pitch his next one shot idea and couldn't wait for you to show up." Gareth admitted. “We decided to hunt you down since you were missing lunch.” 

“Oh.” Steve blinked again, and though it’d be concerning on anyone else, the guy just looked like a lost puppy. “I’m sorry man.”

“It's alright Stevie. I just thought you'd totally ditched us.” Eddie sniffed dramatically, looking like he was going to wing an arm around Steve’s shoulder but thought better of it. “No biggie.” 

He pouted, and made absolutely sure Steve could see him do it. 

“Is this you trying to get more of my M&M brownies?” Steve asked after a moment. 

“Oh my dear, sweet, athletic friend. Not at all. Instead, you are going to play the one shot I worked so hard on.” Eddie bounced his shoulder into him as he spoke.  

 It was a weird little compromise the two of them seemed to have, since Gareth had regularly witnessed Eddie ping-ponging off Steve’s shoulders. “Let us break your tabletop cherry.” 

“Or what?” Steve asked, the tiniest bit of humor peaking through. 

Eddie stared at him, abruptly still and completely serious. “I will cry, Steven. Loudly.” 

It brought a small smile to Steve’s face.

“Fine. I’ll play your dumb dweeb game.” He said, and couldn’t seem to stop the smile from overtaking his face when Eddie threw his arms in the air and cheered. 

“Come on, I’m pretty sure the bell rang forever ago.” Jeff said, as they began to venture out back to the main hallway. 

(“Hey guys?” Steve asked, right before they all split up to go to their various classes. “Thanks. For the save.”

Eddie positively beamed. “Anytime, Steve. Anytime.”) 

xXx 

“Hey Gareth?” Steve asked a few days later, joining Gareth in the library during his free period. 

(Gareth himself was skipping, because if he had to listen to yet another lesson on the Crucible he was going to declare himself a satan worshiping witch and demand to be hanged.) 

Gareth hummed to show he heard, as he carefully took stock of the loot he’d gotten from their last game. Eddie had been pretty good about it for once, and he wanted to look things over before the one shot. 

“Can I ask kind of a weird question?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. 

“Shoot, Stevie.” Gareth replied, finally comfortable enough to use the main nickname Eddie had nailed the poor guy with. 

“Did Eddie give me a character with bad eyesight or “night vision” or whatever, because he thinks I have bad eyesight?” Steve’s fingers made sassy little air quotations around “night vision” because he knew damn well it wasn’t called that and didn’t want to get chewed out. 

It was appreciated, even if it was cheeky as shit. 

Gareth stopped writing. “Why’d you think that?” 

“He just keeps acting like I’m my character.” Steve replied with a shrug. “Like all that stuff we planned  about how my character gets around and relies on the group since he can’t see that great in the daylight? He does it for me too.” 

“It’s Eddie, he’s eccentric.” Gareth struggled to keep a straight face, trying not to give the game away. 

Laughing would absolutely clue Steve in to the fact that Eddie was doing it on purpose. 

“He just keeps telling me before he touches me. Outside of the game.” Steve continued, utterly baffled. 

Of course, Eddie was doing far more than that, in order to keep up the appearance that he was just being a weirdo who was too into his game. (Instead of trying to alert Steve to the fact he was going to lean on him, hug him, or do any other thing involving skin to skin contact that usually made Harrington panic.)

“If you don’t like it you should tell him,” Gareth said. He knew it was the better option, encouraging Steve to communicate. They could come up with something else if this was too weird (as frankly, many of Eddie’s plans could be. 

Bless the guy but he had a habit of going for the dramatic over the practical.) 

“No!” Steve protested, far too quickly. 

He cleared his throat with a cough, and continued in a much calmer voice, “No, I don’t wanna ruin his fun or anything.” 

As far as excuses go for letting something happen it was a weak one, but Gareth wasn’t going to call him on it. If Steve wanted to hide behind Eddie and his “fun”  then Gareth would happily pretend to buy it. 

Would buy whatever excuse Steve needed, to help make the guy feel more comfortable and like himself than the still often vacant ghost that hung around now. 

“Just wanted to know if he actually thought my eyesight sucked.” Steve finished in a mumble. 

“Well you did trip over the curb that one time.” Gareth teased playfully, and shot a grin at Harrington when that awkward look of his melted into something more offended. 

“I was walking backwards!” Steve defended, his normal, almost bitchy tone returning. 

“Uh-huh. And what about when you almost ate shit over that garbage can and Eddie had to save you?” Gareth taunted. 

He grinned, watching as a blush overtook the older boys face, Steve glancing away frantically and--

Oh. 

Oh!

'Oh-ho, ho, ho!' Gareth thought with absolute glee. The entire fucking school knew what Steve looked like when he had a crush, (Steve himself had made sure of that with Nancy) and Gareth recognized the beginning of it happening all over again.

Steve Harrington had a crush.

On Eddie.

Gareth could work with this.

“You know….” He  paused, grin turning sly as a sudden idea came to him. “If you want to mess with Eddie a little bit I have an idea.” 

Steve stared at him, confused. “Why would we want to mess with him?” 

Gareth leaned forward. “Because pranks are fun, Harrington. Legend has it you even used to do them.”  

Steve still didn't look convinced, but the nice thing about a man like Steve was that all Gareth had to appeal to was his sense of adventure. 

“Now." He clapped his hands together in a move that had very much been stolen years ago from Eddie. "How good are your acting skills?

Meant to post this yesterday but I got surprise laid off last week and that pushed me back a bit, sorries! Absolutely related, I have a Ko-Fi now lmao. It’s https://ko-fi.com/sp0o0kyghosthost 

Unemployment should go through just fine so I don’t really think I need to full panic but hey if you wanna throw me a dollar and yell “Dance writer dance!” I’ll do a lil tippy-tap jig. 

[carmenberzattosgf]

Thinking about the scene in the Fishes ep when Tiff isn’t feeling good and wants a sprite but there isn’t any and Carmy just casually offers to make it?? Bless his mf soul.

Reader is really craving brownies or cookies or ice cream or something (prob bc of period/pregnancy/stress cravings). They’re rummaging through the fridge and pantry but can’t find any. Carmy walks in to see they’re looking for something and in true Italian fashion he puts his hand on their back, ushering them to bed saying “baby go lay down you don’t feel good, yeah? What’re ya looking for? I woulda got it for ya, c’mon.” Reader is like on the brink of tears “I wanted some ____ but we don’t have any” and Carmen’s like “go lay down sweetheart and I’ll make you some. We’ve got all the ingredients, just gimme like 20 minutes.” Then reader just starts bawling lmao.

-🧸

Oh gosh I think about this so often. Even my friend that doesn’t simp for Carmy but has watched the bear has brought up to me that he literally MADE sprite just bc tiff had a craving. Like if he’s doing that for his “cousin’s” wife can you imagine what he’d do for his partner????

Carmy does anything you ask while you’re pregnant. He just wants to serve you in every way possible. It’s his acts of service love language.

You’re in the kitchen desperately looking for something sweet. Anything sweet. Carmy walks in to see you balancing on your tip toes rummaging through the top of the pantry.

“Woah, woah, woah, what are you doing, baby?” His hand rests on your back to steady you. “You’re suppose to be resting, sweetheart. I would’ve gotten what you needed if you called me.”

“I just wanted something sweet—like chocolate or something. We don’t have anything, though.” You start to sniffle. The pregnancy hormones have not been kind to your emotions.

“Baby,” Carmy replies with a soft voice. His hands cup your face to wipe away the few tears that escaped from your eyes. “How ‘bout I make you some brownies? I’ve already got all the ingredients I need. I can get ‘em in the oven in twenty minutes. That sound good?”

“You’re always doing so much for me, Carm. I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that, okay? You’re never a burden. You’re carrying my kid in there,” he says, cupping your bump. “I’d do anything for you, and I’m more than happy to do whatever you need me to do.” His words only encourage the waterworks currently falling down your cheeks.

“Thank you, Bear. I love you so much,” you whisper in between sniffles.

“I love you more. Now, let’s get you to bed, yeah? I’ll come join you once I get the brownies in the oven.”

[jelestes]

My completely sane and hinged rant after rewatching the second season of The Bear 😍

• Carmy/Claire

OMG I want to like Claire so badly but her character is so fucking annoying and that’s putting my whole sydcarmy shipper personality aside, she adds nothing to the plot/show, nothing to Carmy’s growth as a character (not that she should be responsible for that, but as a part of his subplot she doesn’t do much), no new perspectives, nothing. She has nothing you can hold on to she’s just kinda there. Her personality is bland and she’s pushy but at least she’s nice i’ll give her that! All that being said, Molly Gordon (the actress) did a great job!

• Natalie

Natalie isn’t talked about enough and it makes me so angry because she’s such a fascinating character like what was ep6??? that girl needs a fucking hug. As a woman with mommy issues I get Nat on so many levels (like, my mom also has threatened to blown her brains out in front of me so many times lmao) we only got a glimpse to what her life was/is like and I was already bawling my eyes out can’t imagine what they have in store for the next seasons. Also kudos to Abby Elliot (the actress) for the amazing job, we got to see so many sides of Nat it was so refreshing. (Ps: LOVE her relationship with Syd, omg)

• Tina

I remember hating Tina the first two episodes but man how much do I love her now. Her character just warms my heart, love LOVE that they made her a sous.

• Richie

I love cousin so fucking much. That’s pretty much it. As a twenty something struggling to find my passion and my path in general his plot in the second season really hit me, also his growth as a character in general was so nice to see, the way he realized he had to change to love himself not tiff or anyone else, that was really really cool.

• Richie/Natalie

Now call me absolutely insane but why do I feel there’s a tension between them? the whole soda thing when she says she’s pregnant (there’s a parallel to when Tiff was pregnant in 3.06), when he apologizes (it doesn’t feel he’s just apologizing for something in the present), idk there’s been a tension there since season one and I think it might be addressed in season 3? idk I might be delusional but I can’t be the only one seeing it.

• Carmy/Syd

* sighs * BECAUSE IF I SEE SOMEONE CALL THAT SHIT PLATONIC ONE MORE TIME I-

Can someone rationally explain to me why is Sydney the only person who can calm Carmy down during a panic attack? How is this shit platonic be so fr right now!!!! Why was Sydney over explaining herself when she told Carmy she doesn’t feel jealous of Claire? Try to explain this to me. You can’t because saying this is platonic sound fucking stupid SPECIALLY after the table scene.

IMO, they both know it and they both refuse to acknowledge it but specially carmy. I feel like they gonna have a fall out on s3 so they can finally start building this in the right direction.

That’s pretty much it, thank you for coming to my ThebearTalk! I’ll be insufferable for the next few weeks <3

[inkdrinkerworld]

night shift

pairing: stepdad!hotch x fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

cw: smut, p in v penetration, oral [fem!receivng], missionary, soft sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, creampie, fluffy ending, mdni, 18+ ONLY

Aaron sighs as he steps into the house, grateful for the darkness and the quiet. 

It had been a couple hours since he’d had that unmistakable quiet that came with the hour he’d gotten in- but he loved it. 

He needed it to think and get his work out of his mind. 

He also needed to get his new wife off his mind. 

They’d been having little tiffs that had been grating on him, and though she knew he’d be back today she had opted instead for a girl’s trip to some random state. 

Aaron couldn’t really care less about that though.

You were home and that made being home, even at the hour that much sweeter. 

He should stay out of your room, should wait till the morning to spend the day making up for lost time, but he’s really missed your sweet toffee and vanilla scent and your warm arms. 

After the fastest shower known to man, he pushes at your bedroom door, finding the tv on and the light illuminating your sleeping figure on the bed. 

You’ve got what he thinks is ‘Dead Poets Society’ on and it’s still about twenty minutes in. 

That doesn’t steal his attention though. As usual, you do. 

Your hair is all splayed out on your pillows, your floral patterned duvet covering the lower half of your body, but from the exposed portion, Aaron makes out his old Harvard hoodie and smiles. 

“Precious girl,” he murmurs, shutting your door behind him and taking off the tv before slipping in beside you. 

You turn and groan as your body comes into contact with his- warm and soft with hard and cool. 

He hears your breathing pick up and your eyes blink open tiredly. 

“S’just me sweetheart,” he coos, stroking the back of your neck to lull you back to sleep. 

It doesn’t exactly work, you get your bearings and your eyes peel open and the smile that takes over your face has Aaron heating up. 

“You’re home,” the smile makes it into your voice and Aaron can’t help but feel love explode all through his chest. 

“Yeah baby,” he kisses your forehead just as you hook your knee to his narrow hip.

It’s then, as you press further into Aaron that he feels the bare touch of your thighs and his hands follow the natural curve of your skin and groans when he touches your bare cunt. 

“Were you expecting action tonight, princess?” he tilts your chin upwards so you can’t hide your sleepy eyes or your faux coy smile. 

“Maybe,” Aaron feels the need rumble deep in his chest and shakes his head when you lean up to pepper kisses to his stubble. 

“Fucking vixen.” he curses, claiming your lips. 

Aaron kisses resemble him in every way. It commands you, and consumes you. It’s tentative at first and then his tongue prods into your mouth and licks at your own and it’s like he steals your warmth. His lips suck yours into his mouth, swallowing your moan as he pulls your hips into his. 

“Aaron,” you whine, his lips leaving yours to suck at the exposed column of your neck.

He only hums, nipping and biting at the tender skin on your neck. He pulls away and assesses the bruises, and when he’s satisfied he moves onto another plot of your skin. 

“Aaron please,” your hips are rocking on their own now, and he sits up, pulling you with him as he changes positions and lays you flat on your back. 

“Please what?” you really shouldn’t have started with begging. Aaron likes it far more than you do, and he likes making you do it. 

Your answer is interrupted with him thrusting his clothed hips into yours, a moan ripping past your lips as he ensures that he brushes your wet cunt with his growing bulge. 

“Please don’t tease,” he kisses you again, and this time it’s all wet. Tongue and teeth clashing before he pulls away and moves southard. 

“God baby,” he coos, fingers spreading your cunt open so that he sees even more of your slick gushing out. “You’ve been needing me haven’t you?”

It’s mind numbing the way he uses words to make your mind melt and shut off. He just says a couple nasty facts and your brain short circuits with zero intention of trying to work after that. 

The worst part, other than your brain working against you, is that Aaron knows exactly what he does when he uses crass words like that, and he maintains the use of them just to rile you up even more. 

His thumb brushes at your weeping hole, a smirk pulling on his lips as your hips buck into his light touch. 

“I asked you a question, princess.” 

Aaron should at least give you a fighting chance to respond, but he doesn’t. His mouth is sucking at your clit almost immediately after he speaks, and your whines are breathy and high as your hands reach for his hair. 

A broken, “Yes,” manages to escape you and after that, it’s the only coherent thing to leave your mouth. 

Aaron’s fingers slip into your cunt, and he groans at how tight you feel, the vibrations messing with your mind as they cause more pleasure to flow through you. 

You don’t see it entirely, but Aaron’s free hand reaches for his cock, stroking it over and over again, tugging at it in time with his fingers thrusting in your cunt. 

“God,” you cry, hips moving to meet the thrusts of Aaron’s fingers, growing closer and closer to your orgasm. “I’m gonna come, please Aaron.” 

He only hums, eyes meeting yours as your hands knot into his hair, holding his head still as you ride his tongue and fingers to your release. 

“Att fucking girl,” he praises, watching as you continue to ride his fingers till your orgasm fizzles out. He doesn’t pull his fingers from you though. No Aaron crooks them so they brush against your g-spot over and over again till your thigh jumps and he feels the tell-tale signs of another orgasm. 

“Gimme another one, princess. Let me see you come again.” your mouth drops open as he rolls your clit and a silent scream takes a hold of you as your second orgasm washes over you. 

You can’t fight his touch as Aaron drags you to the very end of your orgasm and pats your cunt as he pulls his fingers out of you. 

“Want your cock, daddy.” your eyes are glazed over already, and Aaron has to physically restrain himself from just slamming into you. 

“Yeah? How bad do you need it?” He likes playing this game with you, you tend to lose patience much quicker than he does, and there’s something about the way you spread your legs and offer your pussy over to him that makes his head swim with lust. 

“So so bad. S’all I’ve been thinking about since you left.” he wouldn’t even doubt your statement because you’re all he’s thought about too. 

Still, he holds out on you, intent on just staring at your spread legs and bared cunt for him. 

“Please daddy, need your cock in me. You always fuck me so good.”

He can’t resist you anymore, and slides in, both of you groaning as he bottoms out. 

Your breath is short and sharp as he fucks into you, hands fisting the sheets as your hips match his thrusts. All you can think about is Aaron and the way the head of his cock is pressing at just the right spot that has your toes curling with each thrust.

“Feels good baby? Your pretty cunt is squeezing around me so fucking hard.”

Your brain is a mess of his praise. “So good, you’re always so good.” 

Tears pool on your lash line as his thumb finds your clit again, ready to pull a third orgasm from you. 

Your hands grip at his shoulders, pulling him to hover over your body and in doing so, forcing him deeper into you. 

“Oh fuck,” you croon and Aaron pulls back to slap at your clit. 

“Watch your tongue, princess.” you can only nod, your body thrumming with pleasure as his thrusts get mean and fast. 

“You’re gonna make me come again.” you mewl, eyes full of tears as you feel your lower belly burn with need. 

“Yeah? Y’gonna make a mess on my cock?” your nails dig into Aaron’s shoulders at his teasing, tears falling down your face as his thumb resumes rolling your clit. 

“Please, please,” it’s the only word you know, and Aaron thinks you’re the most gorgeous woman in the world as you beg him, so he leans forward pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Soak my cock, princess.” the order has your back arched off the bed completely as you obey it, legs trembling from the force of your orgasm. 

Aaron manages to hold off his own till the very last second, holding the back of your neck to keep your slick bodies pressed together as he fills you up. 

“No, stay,” you murmur when he moves to pull out and Aaron smiles, smoothing your hair out of your face and dragging his hand down your arm. 

“You don’t want something to drink?” he asks, eyes glued to yours. 

“No,” you lie, and Aaron can tell, but before he can call you out on it, you say, “I wanna sleep with you in me, please.”

You and your eyes will be the death of him, Aaron knows it very well. “Okay baby,” he kisses your cheek and lays with you on top of him, sighing when your walls clench around him. “Wake me up if you need anything.”

You nod, lips finding his in a quick kiss before falling asleep on his chest.

tags: @montyfandomlove

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Broken Chords: The hardest part is who we are.

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: okay, so in my mind, Y/N an actress BUT please feel free to imagine her however you like.

Summary: After his concert in New York and a private moment shared in his dressing room, Y/n and Andrew are confronted with the reality of their situation, and one party isn't willing to go on like that.

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW, Angst

Part 1 Part 2

He’s determined that they can never be anything more than whatever they are right now; two people that exist in each other’s orbit without ever truly meeting, wound up in something that hurts too much to be worth it but feels too good to let go of. It's like a blade in a clenched fist, splicing through flesh and grating bone. It's like a full-bodied port in the dead of winter.

Exes with benefits? He knows that its the best term to describe their state of affairs, but it makes Andrew feel so twenty-something.

They’ve unofficially adopted some sort of arrangement that involves ignoring the elephant in the room and enjoying each other's company just enough to get by; since Y/n left Ireland after the wedding – and their tryst at the hotel – they’ve seen each other exactly three times. First, it was two weeks later, when he was in Manchester for a night while she was, then again in Los Angeles when her meeting with a director coincided with his meeting with another songwriter for a collaboration. And now, tonight, in New York. He’d heard from a mutual friend she's going to be home for a few weeks – because after nearly five years of being mixed up with each other, so many of their friends are shared – asked his manager to run her tickets to his show at The Bowery.

And of course, she came.

He spots her when he’s in the middle of one of the new songs, one he wrote about her. Because even if they’re mostly over, she’s usually at the front of his mind when he puts pen to paper. A stray comment on his part has led to word getting around about how most of the upcoming album is about an ex, and now he feels a little guilty about saying that so freely after he struggled to talk about their relationship when they were still in it.

He wonders if she's heard about his little slip up, if she's as mad at him as he is at himself.

She’s standing at the railing guarding the mezzanine and there’s a plastic cup in her hand, he doesn’t even have to be there to know what’s in it. There are probably gonna be pictures tomorrow, paired with speculations, because people have been speculating for years. But he’ll play them off, and so will she. It used to be a point of contention for them; Y/n was growing tired of hiding, so much so that she said it felt like an insult. Things are different now, though;

Tight lips and dodged questions are encouraged, especially by her. It's almost as if she's ashamed, Andrew thinks, and as much as he tries to not take it personally, he can't help the way his heart does an awkward twist when she says something like; "I just don't think anyone should know what we're doing, you know?"

Would being with him again really be that bad? Andrew avoids asking himself that question, because it reminds him of their tiff in the hotel room;

"Would it really be that bad? Being married to me; would it really be that bad?"

He still isn't the marrying type, the prospect of it sickens him the way looking down the barrel of a gun might.

But he is the being with her type.

Ironically, while Y/n has been doing everything to make sure their entanglement stays hidden, he's just started wondering what it would be like if they’d never hid at all. What if everyone knew that she was there because he wanted her there? What if they knew that he was meeting her eyes when he glances at the area above the main floor?

When the set is over and he’s through with humoring the audience for a bit longer, Andrew returns to the backstage area with the intention of seeking her out. He’d asked her to meet him there, but after a quick look around he can’t seem to find her. Even when he asks his manager, a couple of the assistants and some of his bandmates, they all claim to have not seen her recently. There aren't any recent texts or missed calls from Y/n either, and that’s really all it takes for his mind to jump to the worst.

Has she changed her mind on him?

She can’t do that. Well, she can, but if she’s gonna tear his world apart, a warning would have been nice.

Andrew is so defeated by her absence that he halfheartedly dismisses Alex’s offer to have a drink with the rest of the band, mumbling a lie about having a headache just so he can retreat to his dressing room and be alone. He doesn’t even think about why the lights are on when he pushes the door open.

“Well, that took you long enough.”

Andrew jumps when he hears her voice. Y/n is sitting on the chair at the long, barren dressing table. She carelessly sets her phone down as he enters the room, and Andrew shuts the door before responding. “What the fuck, Y/n. I’ve been looking for you, I thought you left.”

“You asked me to stay,” she knits her brows.

“I asked you to meet me backstage,” he corrects.

“This is backstage,” Y/n determines, “besides,” she shrugs, “I thought it would have been weird if I hung around back there. Its…..that’s not what this is,” her voice drops an octave lower, and a pang of guilt stabs at his chest. He knows she doesn’t mean anything malicious by her words, but it does sting.

Andrew crosses the room to stand beside where she's sitting, leaning against the table. “Right,” he licks his lips, “ehm, did you have a good time?”

Y/n grins, “I did,” she takes his hand in both of her smaller ones, stroking his knuckles with her thumbs before starting to absently massage it. For a moment, Andrew almost forgets that they aren’t actually an item anymore; this is exactly what the first few minutes after a show used to look like. “You were fantastic out there….you always are. They love you.”

“I like it more when you love me,” he elicits, raising his free hand to touch the side of her face.

“Andrew,” Y/n sighs, turning away from his touch, “don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He scoffs, suddenly defensive.

“Act like….” A sound of irritation escapes her throat and she shakes her head, “like we’re something.”

“We are something,” he counters, matching her growing frustration.

Y/n doesn’t let his hand go, but her ministrations slow, “not that kind of something.”

Andrew turns his hand over in hers, holding onto one as the other drops to her lap. Gently, he urges her up, and slips his arm around to the small of her back. His fingers toy with the lace of her black blouse and he bends his head a little to search her gaze. “Can we not do this tonight? Please?” He drops his face lower just as she tips her chin a bit higher, and his forehead is almost touching hers.

Y/n’s eyes soften and she reaches up to settle her palm on his shoulder, the roughness of his jacket – the same one he wore in London the night everything started falling apart – letting it linger there for a few seconds before shifting it up to cup the side of his neck. Ther lips lock in an ardent kiss, that starts slow, only growing more impassioned when his fingers curl against her back as he presses her closer. Extracting his hand from hers, Andrew places it on Y/n’s hip so he can switch their positions, easily trapping her between his body and the table.

His hand on her hip slides downwards, skimming the length of her short skirt before he slips it between her thighs. Her skin is soft and warm, and when he brushes the lace of her underwear, Y/n shivers, the quaking breath falling past Andrew’s lips. Suddenly, he isn’t worrying about optics and nursing the ache of something just past them, he’s in the moment, right there. The lingering adrenaline from being on stage just twenty minutes earlier is being harbored by their proximity and the first traces of moisture pooling just over his fingers. Already, he can feel himself responding; the zipper of his jeans feels restricting and his breathing quickens.

It doesn’t matter if he last had her the night before or a month ago, his yearning for her never wavers. Andrew could spend the rest of his life losing himself in her.

Y/n pushes off his denim jacket, and it hits the door with a soft thud that isn’t acknowledged and then flattens her hands on his chest, gently urging him into the chair she'd been sitting in earlier. Clumsily, he stumbles backwards, pulling her into his lap as he falls into the chair.

Hastily, he reaches for her cheek again, large hand dwarfing her face. Some of her hair is caught under his palm, but Andrew doesn’t spend any effort brushing it away. Instead, he cruises his thumb along her ruby stained lips; he loves that colour on her. “You look so beautiful tonight,” he rasps, “I’m glad you came,” he adds.

Her eyes move quickly as they search his, and Y/n cradles his face in her small hands, the prickle of his beard prodding at the soft skin. She furrowed her brows at his words, not quite knowing what to say; she doesn't want to ruin their night but she doesn't want to make things any more confusing than they already are.

If that's even possible.

“I wouldn't rather be anywhere else,” she finds herself saying it without much effort being expended to hold it back. It's the truth; she wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Andrew looks like he's going to say something else, and she holds her breath for it – but he doesn't. Sliding his hand forward, he threads his fingers through her hair, guiding her face towards his. Under her skirt, Andrew shoves the crotch of her underwear aside and introduces two of his long fingers to her center, curling them slightly.

Stirring her hips, Y/n moans against his lips while gathering fistfuls of his printed t-shirt in a white knuckled grip. His lips are hot on her neck, leaving marks that she’ll have to cover up tomorrow and her head is tilted to the side, allowing him access. When his thumb swirls around her sensitive nub, Y/n gasps and presses her cheek to the top of his head.

“Andy….” She rasps, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt so she can slip her hands under it, cool palm's against the heat of his chest. Eager for more, she grinds against his fingers as he introduces another. “I wanna feel you….” She pleads, nails grazing his skin.

When he finally extracts his fingers in favor of tugging her underwear down her thighs. In a series of clumsy motions, the lacy thing is thrown to the floor and Y/n reaches for the buckle of his belt, hastily undoing it before opening up the button and zipper of his pants. They don’t shove it all the way down, just enough for her to ease herself down on him.

“Fuck sweetheart,” Andrew hisses, fingers digging into her ample hips. With a bruising grip, he guides her into a steady pace. The way she’s wrapped around him is dizzying, and everytime she moans his name, in that breathy way that she does, he swears he inches a little closer to heaven.

She’ll never get over the way he fills her up, they way it feels like they’re two puzzle pieces snapping together. “Andrew….” she croons, half a praise, half a desperate whine. Clutching his t-shirt in one hand and cupping his neck with the other, she tips her forehead against his. Their eyes meet, in the haze of lust blown pupils and tangled lashes and Andrew tips his chin slightly to bring his lips closer to hers, almost touching them but not quite.

“That’s it, honey. You feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this,” he praises through gritted teeth when she quickens the erotic roll of her hips. Every crude compliment is achingly familiar, music that Y/n is so used to hearing that doesn’t think she could ever go without it – the world can have the poet in him, but this is only for her.

His palm journeys up her hip, tracing the contour of her body over the thin lace of her blouse before eventually grabbing her breast, giving the flesh and eager squeeze. There’s something to be said about the way he appreciates her body; as if she were a work of art conjured up just for him.

A loud moan reverberates in the small room when his lips connect with her collar bone, and Y/n’s knees buckle. “Almost there,” Andrew gasps, heady words spilt on her skin, “come on, sweetheart,” he encourages, bucking his hips.

Her breaths are heavy and erratic, and Andrew can feel the pound of her heart against his chest, matching the excited thump of his own. Y/n’s name is like a little prayer on his lips, a mantra, as she finally crashes down. Limbs shaking, words muddled and head thrown back. His lips find her neck again, muffling a strained against her throbbing pulse as he finds his own, euphoric release. His grip on her tightens, holding her as close as possible.

“God,” Y/n heaves, head falling into the crook of his neck. Just then, Andrew’s hold slackens and he envelopes her in a loose embrace. He lolls his cheek against the top of her head and sighs softly as their breathing slowly evens out.

He knows they should probably untangle themselves after a while but holding her like this, it feels like the closest he’s been to home in a damn long time. Even his own house doesn't feel like this anymore – not since she left. And it isn’t just the familiarity of her curves, or the comfort of her voice; its the security of proximity. The way he can feel everything she holds for him coming off her, the way warmth oozes from a fire. She’s safe, she cares.

He doesn’t have to think too hard when they’re together, his mind is empty and quiet – in the best way.

He wants to tell her he misses this, he misses feeling her warmth against him as he falls asleep. Hearing her breathing so close to his ear, the proof that she's real and not just some figment of a weary artist's imagination. He misses the way they'd just lay together after they're spent, her fingers tracing circles over heartbeat, his trailing up and down her back.

The way she'd raise off his chest and use the back of her hand to brush hair away away from his face before leaning down to kiss him.

He's had it with other women – before and after Y/n – but it doesn't come close to the way it feels with her.

Because it's more than the simple pleasure of being with another, it's the great privilege of getting to love her.

“I-”

“Hey, man I – oh, shit,” Alex tugs the door shut faster than he'd pulled it open.

In a series of stumbles and hasty movements, Y/n scampers from his lap, and Andew barely resists the urge to tighten his grip and pull back down onto him.

“Sorry! I didn't know you were…..” Alex trails off, “you said you had a headache and one of the assistants said she saw you go in here.”

Andrew stutters, standing to pull up his jeans while Y/n steals away to the small bathroom to get cleaned up. “Ehm….it's….” He doesn't want to say it's alright, because it would be far from the truth, but its also his fault for not locking the door.

But they shouldn't have been doing that in there anyway. Though, he and Y/n seem to have a knack for doing things they probably shouldn't.

“Gimme fifteen,” Andrew eventually manages. He doesn't catch Alex’s response, he isn't too concerned with it anyway. Andrew is more focused on what Y/n will think, what she'll say. She's been so adamant about keeping things quiet that he isn't sure if the threat of being discovered will be enough to drive her way.

He isn't sure because his Y/n wouldn't have cared; they'd been caught sneaking off way too many times for her to be phased. Hell, if they were still together, Alex wouldn't have even come looking.

But everything's different now – she's different now. She's not his Y/n.

Andrew brings his fist to the door in three short knocks. “I'm sorry,” implores when she doesn't respond, “I didn't mean for that to happen.” He sighs heavily, waiting for her to say something, “I didn't think anyone would come back here.”

And she still doesn't say anything.

Soundlessly, Andrew presses the side of his fist to the door while planting his free hand on the edge of the door frame. “Darlin’,” he breaths, hanging his head, “please come-”

“Don't call me that,” Andrew stumbles forward a little when Y/n unlocks the door and yanks the door open.

Andrew scoffs, pushing his hair out of his face with one sweep of his fingers, when she slips out from under his raised arm, “that's what you open the door for?” Y/n doesn't respond with anything more than a huff and a shake of her head as she collects her phone and purse off the table. “Come on,” he reaches for her arm, “please.”

She sighs, dropping her shoulders. “What?” Y/n turns to face him, lips pressed together and eyes sullen.

“I should've locked the-”

“Its not about that, Andrew,” she glaces away, briefly catching a glimpse of them in the mirror. His long fingers loosely gripping her arm while they stand barely a foot apart. It feels strange seeing herself like that; she's never wanted to put distance between them, ever. Even after she left him, all Y/n ever wanted to do was bridge the oceans between them, wade through whatever had ripped them from each other and find her way back to him.

Its why she opens herself up to him every time they see each other, some of him is better than none at all.

But being caught changes everything; it makes her the girl who keeps going back to a man who won't commit. Pathetic, foolish.

That's what she sees staring back at her.

A silly girl who's lovelorn for a man who keeps telling her - with his own words and his own mouth - that he will never want the same things he does. He will never return the kind of love she has for him.

That girl is staring at her, eyes brimmed with stinging tears, asking her why she's wasting the best years of her life fucking this man in a dressing room. In hotel rooms booked under an alias. In the back of her rental parked near the beach at ten pm.

He is not going to change, and neither is she. But this can end.

“Let's just talk,” Andrew begs, “or, or, come for a drink with us. You're friends with the band –”

“What is this to you?” She glances back at him, watery eyes struggling to keep years worth of heartbreak at bay.

Stunned, Andrew deserts her arm and runs his hand over her hair. “It's…..” the closet thing he has to the best three years of his life. It's the thing that's killing him slowly, whether or not he can admit.

It's a thing so undefined that he isn't sure he has a word for it, but given the alternative, he's willing to trudge on.

Beginning again, Andrew emits a frustrated sigh, “it's….doesn’t it matter. You're the one that doesn't want us to be together – you broke up with me,” his tone hardens. He doesn't want to have the fight against, not when they've finally found some steady footing, no mind it's more of a liferaft than a boat in the middle of a pitch black sea. It's still something, it's all that's keeping him from going under.

“I am not having this conversation again,” she hasn't been shouting, but for some reason her words still sound pained and raw.

“I'm just saying,” Andrew pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was good with the way things were,” he spats, forgoing every thought he'd had on stage earlier, all in the name of self preservation.

“You wouldn't tell people I was your girlfriend–”

“Our friends knew –”

“Just barely,” Y/n scoffs, “you kept telling everyone that we were “seeing where it goes,” it had been three years; what more did you need to see?”

He doesn't have an answer, and, at a loss for words, he just stands there. He wants to say something, slap another bandaid over the still-bleeding bullet hole, but nothing comes. That sort of callousness can't be excused or explained.

Andrew suddenly remembers that his brother once called him a commitment phobe, so maybe those are the words. But a reason still isn't an excuse, it still isn't an apology. It still isn't a hall pass to run someone's heart through a woodchipper.

Y/n stands in front of him, a shell of the woman he'd held in his hungry hands earlier, and Andrew figures he's something of the same. It's all forgotten now; her gentle massaging of his hands – cause she must be the only person he's ever told that they get sore after playing all night. The way her chest melted into his, her breath tickling his collar bone.

It's all gone now, a memory that feels so long past him that he isn't remembering right. Her lips must've been sweeter that he's recalling, she must've felt warmer because there's a chill hanging in the air and he hadn't been cold then.

Those people aren't them – or maybe its the other way around. He can’t get it to make sense in his head, but it doesn’t matter anyway. It doesn’t give him something useful to say; its not going to make her stay.

Surprisingly, Y/n closes the space between them with a couple steps, and she stands on her toes to kiss the corner of his lips. “You don’t have to say anything, Andy,” his heart contracts; why does it feel like the last time she’s calling him that?

Is he going to be Andrew to her from now on; entirely cold and formal? Or is she just never going to say his name?

“But um…..maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” she says, settling on her feet.

“No,” desperately, Andrew takes her hand, “please.”

He isn’t even crawling back this time; this isn’t him crawling back to her. This is him pounding down the door, begging to be let in.

But its closed – locked even.

“Not this time,” already, he misses his name on her tongue. Y/n’s hand slips out of his – centimeter by centimeter – until the barest tips of their fingers are touching. And, more than anything else he’s wanted in a damn long time, he wants to take a step forward and take her hand again.

He wants her to turn around and see the emotion threatening to spill out of his eyes as the world gives out under his feet.

Andrew wants to beg her to stay – but it won’t make a different because the defending sound of the doorknob’s click rattles in his ear as she pulls it shut, and all he’s left with is a cloud of jasmine perfume and a hollowness in his chest as he slumps against the table.

[seecarrun]

“Why do girls always take forever to get ready?” Ash moaned, leaning pathetically against the wall next to their Pokemon Center room’s bathroom door, his toothbrush clutched uselessly in his hand.

Standing in front of the mirror, as she had been for the last twenty freaking minutes, Misty scoffed. “Because we actually care about how we look?” she answered snottily.

Ash smirked. “So why don’t you ever actually look good?” he asked, completely expecting the hair brush flying through the door at his head, so he was able to dodge it with a laugh.

“Pikapi,” Pikachu scolded, shaking his head.

“C’mon, she set herself up for that one.”

Misty blew Pikachu a kiss, then made eye contact with Ash again in the mirror. “Hey, hand me my brush.”

He rolled his eyes, but grabbed it off the floor and handed it over. “If you still needed it, why did you throw it?”

“Because the sink is attached to the wall,” she stated simply. He stuck out his tongue at her in the mirror.

Ash couldn’t say for sure what it was about hanging out with Misty that made him be such a punk, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

Maybe it was the relief of not having to be Mr. Responsible for a little bit? He had spent so many years after starting his journey with Misty and Brock kind of forced into something like a mentor role that he wasn’t sure he entirely deserved, so often traveling with younger or less experienced trainers that definitely wouldn’t appreciate him being a bit of a smartass at their expense.

Sure, he had his odd tiff with some of his companions every now and then; it wasn’t like he was always perfect and nice to everyone or anything.

But Misty was, well, Misty.

She wasn’t exactly always a sweet angel herself, and with the self confidence that allowed her to literally introduce herself to new people as a ‘world famous beauty’, it’s not like he had to worry about truly hurting her feelings with a little good-natured teasing.

Misty knew she was talented and pretty, and had no problem letting you know it. Usually loudly.

But also, messing with her was fun. He liked to get her all puffed up and annoyed, and could always count on her to give it right back.

He supposed it did kind of make sense when you thought about it. He always did enjoy a challenge.

“I’m ready!” she chirped, gliding out of the bathroom looking exactly the same as always, so he saw no real reason why she was in there for so long.

“About time,” he grumbled, breezing past her.

In the mirror, he saw her make a face at him and disappear behind the wall to find her bag.

Once he was sure she was out of sight, he smiled fondly and began to brush his teeth.

It was good to have her back.

[luveline]

Hey jade!!!! I love your work ❤️❤️. I was wondering if you would do more of the kisses before dinner au? Maybe just some fluff of Steve and r taking care of the new baby?? Or anything you want with them—I just love that au so much. Thanks!!!

dad!steve and mom!reader finding a balance with the new baby<3 thank you for your request!

Steve Harrington was meant to be a dad. He’s wanted to have kids since he was young, twenty and broken-hearted thinking up futures he worried he might never have. And then he met you, and all too soon (somehow not soon enough) you were having his baby, and now he’s here. 

He can’t believe it. 

The baby sleeps in his arms. She’s three weeks old, so so small, and she looks a lot like you, in his opinion. You’d laughed fondly and exhausted into his shoulder when he told you his theory a couple of minutes ago, saying, Babies look like babies, Steve. 

Still, Steve looks at her and he can’t help hoping she’ll have your eyes, your nose, your big pretty smile. 

You’re dozing with your head propped against his shoulder, drooling down his arm. Avery’s in your lap, and she doesn’t seem disappointed that you’ve fallen asleep. Steve worried she might be, because with the new baby finally here and home, Avery’s not getting nearly as much attention as she should. Steve feels guilty but he knows everything will be back to normal soon. You can only do what you can. 

“What do you think, Ave?” he asks quietly. “She look like your mom?”

“I hope she looks like you so she looks like me,” Avery says. 

“But what about Bethie?” Steve asks. Avery is the oldest, Bethie her junior. 

“What about Beth?”

“If you look like me, and Dove looks like me,” —Dove, the former youngest, your two year old— “and then the baby looks like me, only Beth looks like your mom.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he says genuinely. 

Steve never thought he was ugly, but seeing his face on someone else’s, seeing the brown of his eyes staring back at him through Avery’s gaze, it gave him an appreciation for his features that he never had before. But… you’re beautiful. The love of his life, before and after his children. He thinks it’s only fair that these sweethearts you made near enough by yourself would carry you with them in more than their actions. It’s the reason he finds himself so sweet on Bethie. (All his girls are gorgeous and loved, of course, but he looks at Beth and he sees you every now and then. He catches you in her unassuming smiles and hears you in her laugh and he can’t help it, he leans over to give her hair a good stroke.) 

But again, if the baby looks like Steve, it won’t matter. In the same way it didn’t matter that she was another girl. She’ll be just as loved as the rest of them, no matter what. She already is. 

Like she knows she’s being talked about, the baby coughs in his arms. Steve’s a pro at babies now, truly, he knows all the steps. He’s a great dad. And still his heart stops when he’s reminded of how new she is, how fragile.

How strong, too. Her little leg twitches against his chest. Steve beams down at her, relieved when she stays sleeping.

“Did you and mom pick a name yet?” Avery whispers. 

“Why? Do you have any ideas?” Steve asks back. 

“I don’t know.”

Steve tries to pour as much of his love and pride for her into his expression as he can. “Come on, Avery, tell me. I can’t promise we’ll choose one, but I wanna hear your ideas. What names do you like?”

“I liked Heather,” she says. That was one Steve suggested. You’d been unsure. 

“Yeah?”

“And Tiffany, too. We’d be Ave, Beth, Dove and Tiff.”

“You’d sound like a TV show,” Steve laughs. 

Avery giggles. “Okay, what about Sarah? Or Jessica?”

“I know too many Jessica’s,” Steve says, “but Sarah’s really nice.” 

Steve doesn’t know what you’ll choose. Three weeks is the longest one of his girls has gone without a name, because this time you just can’t pick. Avery had a name before she was born, and you got one look at Dove and knew, but Bethie hadn’t been so easy, and now this new baby is following suit. 

“Dad?”

“What?”

“She’s awake.”

Steve looks down, perplexed, and finds Avery’s right. The baby is awake in his arms, unmoving beside her slow sticky blinks. 

“Some babies don’t open their eyes for weeks,” Steve tells Avery. 

“Did I open mine?”

He nods. “You did.”

You rouse against Steve’s shoulder like you can tell the baby is alert. Maybe you can. You sit up with a little moan that makes his heartbreak in half for you, and your hand shoots to your hips. You’ve had a lot of pelvis pain, and some additional soreness where expected. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You barely hear him, love and tenderness in every line and pore of your face. “My baby,” you say, with more emotions in your voice than there are words to describe. “Look, she’s looking at you.”

You pull Avery into your chest and she melts at the affection. She must be missing you more than she’ll say. You notice as Steve notices, tearing your gaze from the newborn against his chest to dot kisses in a bow over her forehead. “My first baby,” you say, delighted. “Sorry for falling asleep. Tell me about your day, honey, I promise I won’t fall asleep again.”

The baby starts crying eventually, and Avery’s face falls. You’re torn, Steve can tell, but you look at him with a smile that says, You have it, right?

Of course he does. Parenting is a balance you struck with one another a long time ago. He takes the baby into the kitchen to heat up a bottle of milk, and listens to you and Avery talking in the living room, hand pat pat patting the baby’s back. 

“Hi, daddy.”

Steve pauses. He holds the baby tight to his chest, before bending down to look under the kitchen table. 

“Oh, there my girls are. I thought you were upstairs watching Princess Polly.”

Dove and Bethie are under the table with a pack of crayons and a huge pad of paper. There’s paper scraps everywhere, and they couldn’t look happier in their mismatched pyjamas. Bethie’s the one who’d spoken, and she’s looking at him like he hung the moon.

Dove holds up her drawing. “Look!” she says. 

“I’m looking!” he promises. “Woah! So pretty!”

Bethie won’t show hers. “Mine’s for mommy.”

“I see. Sure I can’t have a little sneak peek?”

She shakes her head. Steve kneels down on the floor so he can watch them drawing, the baby against his chest, bottle held to her mouth. He stays there as the baby falls asleep and is overjoyed by the sound of wax on paper, Dove’s happy babbling, and your laughter echoing in from the living room. 

“Aw, baby,” you’re saying, like Avery’s told you something silly, “I love you.” 

Steve doesn’t know who he’s trying to say it to, but he mouths it after you anyhow. I love you. All his girls. 

The baby hiccups. 

Steve thinks it might be her first love you too. 

—

more of this universe <3 please consider reblogging if you enjoyed<3

[new-york-no-shoes]

When Taylor said “I just never wanna stop making stuff” at Tiff she really fucking meant that. But I did not expect her to write a twenty one song album right off the back of red TV while also working on the all too well short film, a shit ton of Midnights music videos, and god knows what else. We really are in for a big storm and I love that for us

[satansapostle6]

fire and ice | james cook

Cook’s interest is piqued when an old childhood friend moves in across the street.

Warning: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content.

part seven.

part eight. tiff and jj.

That particular Tuesday, Tiffany Wheeler had walked into class high. More so than was typical. Most of the time when Tiff was high, it wasn’t necessarily noticeable to anyone except those who really knew her. She would just act normal while seeming a bit more subdued, with red, bloodshot eyes at the most, and that would be the end of it. But not today.

Tiff had walked into class late with Effy, and the two of them were, to put it simply, on one. They had split mushrooms and some spliff, and were on another planet entirely. It was the first thing Cook noticed when they walked into the room. The classroom had been dead silent, with everyone silently working on whatever they were working on, whether it was their actual class work, or doodling, or lightly snoring. In Cook’s case, it was staring at the doorway off and on waiting for Tiffany to appear.

And when she finally did more than twenty minutes into class, everyone in their respective group knew that it was going to be an interesting class. For starters, Tiff and Effy both walked into the room stumbling and giggling, something that wasn’t necessarily typical of either of them. The two girls were laughing so hysterically at something when they came in that even the teacher had noticed that they were under the influence of something. But of course, no one actually cared.

Tiff and Effy had taken far too long to sit down, too sloppy and distracted to function in that moment. Their behavior had gotten many different reactions. Katie and Naomi both rolled their eyes. Panda was excited by the prospect of drugs. JJ was somewhat confused, meanwhile Freddie just stared at Effy. But Cook was too focused on Tiff. He couldn’t take his eyes off her; she rarely lost control when drunk or high. Or in general. Her laughter and smiles were something he knew to take advantage of when he got the chance.

James Cook sat in his seat, watching in amusement as Tiff sat half slumped over in her seat in front of him next to JJ, deciding to take out a notebook so as to blend in with the rest of the class, but she just stared at it, not writing or reading or anything. She wasn’t able to at all.

“Psst,” Cook whispered, trying to get her attention. “Psst!”

Tiff was still too busy staring at her empty notebook to notice.

“Psst! Oi! Tiff!” he hissed frustratedly.

Tiffany slowly looked up at him, eyes rimmed with smudged black eyeliner.

“What?” she whispered back.

“Did you and Eff seriously blaze up without me?” he pouted.

“It was girls only,” she remarked.

“Well that’s rude,” he frowned.

But Tiff was already onto the next thing. JJ was next to her, absentmindedly drawing something to entertain his train of thought. Tiff of course noticed it as her eyes wandered.

“What’s that?” she whispered, leaning in.

JJ looked up at her, surprised that she was talking to him. Tiff often hung out with him, Cook, and Freddie, but rarely did she and JJ ever speak to one another separate from the others.

“It’s a frog,” JJ responded quietly. “Or, at least an attempt at one.”

“Do you draw frogs a lot?” Tiff wondered.

JJ had to think about it for a moment. “No. I don’t really draw… I just randomly thought of frogs. I wanted to see if I could do it.”

He stopped for a moment to wonder if he’d been talking too much. He was somewhat comforted by the fact that Tiff didn’t seem to care.

“That’s cool,” Tiff stared. “I think frogs are interesting creatures.”

“Yeah, I suppose they are,” he agreed, genuinely engaged in the conversation. “I think it’s interesting the sounds they can make.”

“I think the poison ones are interesting,” Tiff shared, “Like the colorful ones. The poison dart frogs. I wonder why they call them that. Do they actually shoot poison darts?”

“Can’t say I know,” Jonah Jones thought curiously.

Cook was fascinated watching the two of them interact, wondering if that was how he sounded to people at times.

*****

After school let out, Tiff and Effy went with Cook, Freddie, and JJ back to Freddie’s shed where the boys usually hung out together. Effy was sitting with Freddie, and Cook was sitting on his own, drinking more than anyone else as he watched Tiff and JJ, still talking.

Cook was surprised that they were still having one long conversation about a variety of different topics. He knew Tiff and JJ were both very unique people who were often quiet in large group settings, but he just couldn’t seem to understand how they were still talking.

“I don’t really go out much,” Tiff thought, “It’s easier to just drink at home.”

“Yeah, that’s understandable,” JJ sympathized. “I just wish there was a way I could meet girls… Not that it’d matter anyway, even if I met one there’s no way I’d be able to get anywhere beyond friends, if that,” he admitted with a sad disappointment to his tone.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true,” Tiff insisted, taking his hand in a friendly manner.

Cook watched with surprise as JJ just got bashful in response, practically blushing when she touched him, even if it was just to give his hand a squeeze.

“Besides,” she offered, trying to find genuine and truthful ways to help, “Some of my best shags have been friends,” she shared.

Immediately, JJ turned red as Cook looked at her in curiosity, definitely invested. Everyone could physically see the JJ swallowing the hard lump in his throat.

“It’s okay,” Tiff smiled, taking JJ’s hand.

His eyes widened at the comforting gesture. Not only was JJ unsure of how to receive such a kind act of physical affection, he was also extremely confused by it coming from Tiffany Wheeler.

“You’re safe with me, JJ,” she said softly.

“Th-Thank you, Tiff,” he managed, clearing his throat frantically.

“Do you want to kiss me?” she said finally.

JJ nearly had an aneurysm, along with Freddie and Cook, who couldn’t take their eyes off of this fascinating new development. Cook was becoming increasingly jealous, while Freddie seemed to find the situation strange. Effy, on the other hand, watched eagerly. Effy wanted nothing more than to watch Tiff kiss JJ.

“Sorry, what?” JJ blurted out, laughing so as to offset his growing fear.

“I said, do you want to kiss me?” Tiff asked softly, not missing a beat.

“Uh, well, yes!” JJ stammered, “But, is that an offer, or…?”

“Of course it is,” Tiff nodded, slowly moving towards him as she sat on her knees beside him on the couch. “Would you like me to kiss you?”

JJ’s blue eyes were now locked on Tiff’s, completely frozen. He had no idea what to do or say, and frankly, he was afraid one wrong move would wake him from this splendid dream.

“Y-Yes,” JJ concluded, accepting the fact that his first kiss would be with Tiffany Wheeler, in front of his friends, “Yes.”

“Ask nicely,” Tiff smiled.

“Please,” JJ whined, surprising even himself. “Please, please kiss me, Tiff,” he pleaded with her, as Effy grinned, sitting forward in her seat.

“As you wish,” Tiff said softly.

JJ prepared himself, unsure of what to expect. He had expected a very innocent, almost platonic sort of kiss, with the two of them hardly touching; a sweet peck on the lips for the sake of allowing him a first kiss. But what JJ got shocked him. Instead of going the simple route, Tiff swung her leg over JJ’s body, sinking down in his lap as Freddie nearly jumped up out of his seat.

Cook’s eyes widened hungrily as he watched Tiff straddling his friend, hand subconsciously sliding down his lap. He couldn’t believe his eyes. For a moment, the spliff made him question whether any of this was even happening at all. But it most certainly and unmistakably was. Freddie gave in and applauded JJ as he looked up at Tiff on his lap, too stunned to move. Effy was more than entertained.

“Don’t be afraid,” Tiff offered, slowly pressing JJ’s hands, which had been hovering, onto her waist.

He grinned ear to ear with excitement, looking nothing if not grateful.

“Do you want to touch my ass?” Tiff whispered in his ear.

JJ pulled away, nodding quickly. “Please.”

Smirking proudly, Tiff slid his hands down to where he gripped her behind, slowly finding his confidence as his friends laughed and cheered. Tiff leaned in again, equally enjoying the shared moment of pleasure.

“Are you hard?” she asked huskily.

JJ looked petrified.

“Yes,” he confessed.

Tiff nodded, grabbing him by his hair as he felt another warm, tingly sensation, signaling to him that he was enjoying himself.

“Good,” she whispered to him.

He looked right into her dark eyes, his own eyes heavy as he began to pant softly. JJ was beginning to feel overstimulated as she sat on top of him, but in the best way. She could feel him squeezing her ass as he allowed her to sink down on top of him, the both of them feeling each other even through clothing.

“Please, Tiff,” he begged. “Kiss me.”

Before JJ had to say anything else, Tiff pulled him in by the collar of his shirt, pressing a harsh kiss to his lips. JJ was initially stiff, unsure of how to reciprocate, but eventually, he felt his instincts kick in. The kiss was equally rough and loving. Tiff didn’t like to kiss with tongue, but she made sure the kiss was still fully engaging as they shared a series of breathy kisses.

Just as JJ began to feel himself getting carried away, his hands moving up to grope her breasts, Tiff pulled away. At first, JJ was startled and was convinced he’d done something wrong before she spoke.

“Open your mouth,” Tiff instructed.

JJ gulped. He had no idea what was about to happen, but strangely, he relished that feeling. JJ politely opened his mouth, staring up at her obediently. Tiff grinned as she grabbed his jaw and spit in his mouth. Freddie nearly gasped aloud. Effy just smiled, pleasantly surprised as Cook leaned forward, tempted to palm himself over his pants.

“Swallow,” Tiff said calmly.

Nodding quickly, JJ obliged and swallowed, eyes still completely trained on her.

“Thank you,” JJ breathed, as Tiff just leaned forward and pressed another kiss to his lips, a sweet peck on the lips.

“Good boy,” she said, before swinging around on his lap so that she was facing everyone else once again.

As if nothing had even happened, everyone continued with their conversation from earlier before eventually deciding to head out to a pub after Effy, Tiff, and Cook all took more mushrooms. Tiff headed out before Cook and JJ, as Cook stopped her in front of the shed behind Freddie and Effy.

“Tiff,” Cook called after her.

Tiff turned, as Cook pulled her aside.

“Tiffy,” Cook huffed with desperation, “I need a shag. Right now,” he said, about to undo his belt.

“Cook,” Tiff scoffed, looking around in Freddie’s yard, “No.”

“Tiffy,” he protested in a needy manner.

“Cook!” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Fuck off.”

Cook pouted as he ran off after Freddie, leaving Tiff at the shed with JJ.

“Tiff,” he said nervously.

“JJ,” she smiled, her high creating beautiful visuals within the sunlight around him.

“Sorry about Cook,” JJ apologized, seeming genuinely troubled. “He’s… horny,” he offered sheepishly, unable to come up with a better word.

“It’s nothing,” she assured him, “I’m used to it.”

JJ looked at her sadly. “You deserve better,” he offered honestly.

Tiff frowned sympathetically. “I don’t want better,” she admitted.

“But… why?” he wondered, genuinely confused.

“Better’s boring,” she told him, as they walked together. “Besides. I’m not as good as I seem, JJ.”

He tried to find a way to dispute her claim, but as he kept searching for reasons, he began to realize that he didn’t really understand people at all. Especially her.

“Sometimes I don’t understand what makes someone good, and what makes them bad,” JJ said, sounding troubled.

“Sometimes, it just depends on what you want to see,” Tiff offered, before taking his hand. “Come on. Let’s go get drunk.”

JJ knew that when it came to Tiff, he just had to accept this. JJ squeezed her hand as they walked off together.

-

part nine.

[gigi-loveless]

𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝜗𝜚

𝑚𝑒 - tiffany, twenty-one, she/her, queer, multi-fandom, shifter. lover of robin buckley, diet coke, and taylor swift.

𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑠 - minors dni with my 18+ marked work. this is an adult space! i do not consent to having my work posted elsewhere. this is my only account across all platforms. i only write (insert character) x fem reader.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚

𝑤𝚑𝑜 𝑖 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 -

𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠

- ellie williams

- abby anderson

please note - if requested, i will write for any of age characters i know of! shoot out your ideas!

𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 - status - open!

𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑠 -

robin buckleys walkman

steve harringtons walkman

tiffs walkman

hazel callahans spotify

hazels favorite taylor swift songs

hazels sexy time playlist

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​ & @thirteenisles​

Tagging: @suitandtys​ @ryanpulock​

Relationship: Andrei x Kat

Warning: Pregnancy. Major character injury (Andrei’s knee). Smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids).

Word Count: 5.7k

Comments: I know it’s a little late but happy birthday Tiff!!!! I know Kat and Drei are your favourite couple so here’s another slice of life fic of them! Hope you enjoy! xx

(c) nat g. 2023 // do not repost, do not claim as your own

“It’s so crazy to think that the babies will be here in four short months,” Andrei said softly as he rubbed Kat’s growing bump. At twenty weeks, she was halfway through the pregnancy, though she had a feeling she wasn’t going to make it further than 36 weeks. The twins were measuring above average for their gestation and Elena said both Geno and Andrei hadn’t made it to their due date.

“I know,” Kat smiled and covered his hand. Even as big as her growing bump was, his hand still spanned it. “Crazy how fast time has flown.”

“We’re gonna be parents soon and hopefully by then I’ll have my brace off,” he continued, still rubbing her bump. He had shown huge strides in his recovery, and by two weeks post-op he was able to walk without crutches, even if Kat begged him to keep using them so he wouldn’t reinjure himself. Honestly the injury couldn’t have come at a worst time, and it wasn’t because the playoffs were so close he could practically taste them or because he could still remember how much it sucked to be sidelined during the playoffs. It was because Kat was in her second trimester how with her hump growing bigger with every passing day and he was supposed to be taking care of her. She was carrying their babies. He was supposed to take care of her, cook her dinner and get her cravings for her and build her the nursery of her dreams, and instead he was sidelined to the couch while his pregnant girlfriend helped him to the bathroom when he had to go. It was absolute torture for him, and he’d do anything to recover faster so he’d be able to take care of the twins and Kat after their birth.

“Don’t rush anything, Drei. I just want you to be healthy, I want all of us to be healthy,” her voice was softly as she rubbed her belly where she knew baby B was resting. The last thing she needed was Andrei over doing it during his recovery and tearing right through his healing ACL.

“We will be, Kisa,” he reassured her and rubbed soft circles over her bump with his thumb. “Do you still wanna know what we’re having?” In the beginning, before they knew they were having twins, Kat wanted it to be a surprise, but since they found out they were having twins, she had been leaning more toward knowing. Coming up with both a boy’s and girl’s name was one thing, having to come up with both two boy’s and girl’s names was something else.

“It would help with picking names,” she replied with a small smile and rested her head on his shoulder. “Do you not want to know?”

“I do want to know. Really bad,” his smile grew as he covered her hand with his. Elena was sure they were having boys after she strung her ring on her chain and it swung in a straight line over Kat’s belly, but Andrei was still holding onto hope that they’d have a little girl. Of course, all that mattered was that the babies were healthy, but he really did want to have a daughter, a little girl that took after the woman he loved.

Kat smiled and leaned into him a little more so she could kiss his jaw, “then let’s find out, yeah? You know there’s this cupcake bakery down the road from the OB, I bet they could fill two cupcakes for us if you wanted to do that?”

Andrei’s smile softened as he nodded before he kissed her softly, “I think that’s perfect for the two of us.”

Kat chased his lips before her smile grew at the firm kicks she got as if the babies were agreeing, “it does. And I think the babies like the idea of cupcakes.”

Andrei laughed a deep laugh that made Kat’s chest warm before he rubbed her belly, desperate to feel a kick for himself. The last two weeks Kat has insisted that their kicks were getting stronger and that soon he’d feel for himself, but he had yet to experience the joy of his babies moving. “They like cake like their mama, huh?” He smiled and shuffled down the bed despite Kat’s pointed look so he could kiss her belly, and he cut her off when she opened her mouth to tell him to take it easy, “do you have a mama’s intuition on what we’re having?”

She shook her head as she sighed, but she thought about it for a moment as she rubbed Andrei’s hand. “I don’t know. Elena thinks it’s twin boys. I mean, two Svech boys may be a lot to handle at once, but I hope at least on is a boy that looks just like you.” She pulled her hand back to run her fingers through his hair. “A handsome little boy with your beautiful soft hair and your bright smile and your big brown eyes.”

Andrei softened completely as he listened to her and pressed a kiss to her belly before he moved back up her body so he could kiss her deeply, trying to pour all his love for her into the kiss. “I love you so much,” he told her.

Kat chased his lips, threading her fingers through his hair to keep him close. “I love you more,” she replied and kissed him again so he couldn’t argue. Andrei groaned against her lips but every time he tried to pull back to tell her that she was wrong, that she couldn’t possibly love him more than he loved her, Kat just kissed him again, her smile growing knowing that, for once, she actually won.

--

Their twenty-week scan was later that week and, like every scan before, Andrei got misty eyed looking at his growing babies on the screen. They looked more and more like babies with every scan and their heartbeats were so strong.

“They have strong hearts like their mother,” he smiled and kissed Kat’s temple as he looked at the screen before he recorded the sound on his phone so they could hear it later. He’d never tire of hearing their beautiful little heart beats.

The tech was kind enough to write down the sex of both twins and put it in an envelope so they could bring it to the bakery. Luckily their appointment was in the morning so the bakery had a few vanilla cupcakes they hadn’t decorated yet so they filled two with the appropriate colour icing and packaged them into individual boxes with a congratulations and Andrei was sure to leave them a generous tip. He always had a soft spot for bakers.

Both Andrei and Kat were shaking with excitement as Kat drove them back home (something Andrei still grumbled about even though he knew he physically couldn’t drive with his knee). She wanted to wait until after lunch because she knew having that much sugar on a basically empty stomach—listen breakfast was three hours ago—would probably make her want to throw up. Andrei knew that, and he agreed to wait a little longer, but his left leg was still bouncing with anticipation as she heated up some leftovers from dinner the night before. The cupcake boxes were right there, within arms’ reach, and it was absolutely killing him.

Kat took her time eating lunch having learnt the hard way that she really had to pace herself if she didn’t want to throw up. She had not one but two babies growing inside her and they were pushing her stomach up which meant she was prone to heart burn and vomiting if she ate too much or too quickly. That was especially difficult with her insatiable cravings and the babies’ demand for food.

She did the dishes after lunch too, giving her stomach extra time to settle before she picked the boxes up and brought them up to bed so they could have them while Andrei rested his leg. He had already been up on it far too much for her liking. It was only once she was sure his knee was okay propped up on a pillow that she handed him one of the cupcakes before settling into bed with the other.

Andrei ripped the box in his excitement to open it, his fingers already coated in the white icing that decorated the top as he held it up, waiting for her to get hers out. “Okay, you ready, Kisa?” He asked, practically bouncing in excitement.

Kat laughed and licked the icing off her thumb as she held her own cupcake. “You first?”

Andrei was in no position to argue so he nodded and Kat watched with a bright smile as he bit into his cupcake, icing smeared all over his face and when he pulled back there was pink icing in the middle and his whole face lit up as he looked at Kat. A girl! One of them was a girl! A mini Kat! They were having a girl! “Pink!” He yelled, half swallowing. “Pink! Kisa! It’s a girl!”

Kat’s smile grew as she looked at Andrei and she quickly took a bite of her cupcake, her eyes widening when she realized hers was filled with blue. A boy! One of them was a boy! A mini Andrei! They were having a boy and girl! She swallowed the bite and licked the icing from her lips before she turned it around to show him the blue as she got tears in her eyes. “A little girl and a little boy,” she told him, her voice soft as her throat tightened.

His eyes widened in disbelief before his smile grew in absolute joy. “One of each?” He asked, his voice just as soft as he sat the rest of his cupcake in the box to reach over and touch her bump.

“One of each,” she nodded and put the rest of her cupcake in the box before she pulled him in for a hug, pressing her face into his shoulder. “A little boy and a little girl, Drei.”

“I’m so fucking happy, Kisa,” he told her, burying his nose in her hair as he held her tight. “We’re getting both.”

“Me too,” she whispered and fisted his shirt to keep him close. She had no clue what she did to deserve him and this family with him, but she was thankful. Not a day went by she wasn’t thankful to have him and now they were going to have a son and a daughter and, if they were lucky, more of each.

He rubbed her back as he held her. In Russia he didn’t think he’d ever have children, not sure he’d be able to afford them and wanting a better life for them than he and Geno had, even if he was thankful for everything his parents did for them. But now he could afford a better life for his family and he wanted to give Kat as many babies as her heart desired and they were having one of each on the first try. One of each! A little baby boy and a little baby girl!

Kat pulled back to kiss him but she was smiling too hard for it to last long. “Our family, Drei,” she told him and guided one of his hands to her belly. “We’re having a son and a daughter.”

“Our perfect little family,” he whispered and kissed her again.

Her smile softened as they soaked each other in before she cupped his cheek as she laid him back down, not wanting any strain on his knee. She rubbed his hand on her belly as she kissed his jaw and rested her head on his shoulder as he continued to rub her bump before she told him, “I have an idea for a name.”

“Yeah? I do too but you go first,” he replied with a smile.

She shifted to look up at him as she continued to rub his hand, “so I know it’s not really a Russian thing to name kids after people who’re still alive and all, but I know how much your brother means to you and I love him too, and I was thinking… maybe we could honour him by naming our son after him?”

Andrei’s heart ached as he melted completely. Geno was his best friend and the second most important person in his life behind Kat and he loved how much Kat loved his family too, how much they were all a family together. His hand twitched with the desire to get up and go over to his closet and grab the ring he bought for her back in Florida with his mama but he fought the desire as he smiled at her. “You’d really want to name our son after him?” He asked.

“I would,” Kat nodded.

Andrei had to wipe his eyes and his voice softened as his throat tightened. “Geno would love that,” he agreed. “But I was thinking maybe Nikolai as a name, so what about Nikolai Evgeny Svechnikov?”

The tears in Kat’s eyes matched Andrei’s and her smile grew as she felt a firm kick from her left side, the side baby B, baby boy, was resting, and she moved Andrei’s hand over to where the kick came from. “I think he likes it,” she laughed, and her point was emphasized by another, harder, kick that made her laugh.

Andrei’s bright smile slipped in shock and his eyes widened as he looked at her and it only made Kat’s smile grow as she asked, “did you feel that?”

“Yeah,” he nodded quickly. “Was that…?”

“Yeah,” she breathed out as her smile widened. “That would be our son kicking.”

“Oh my god,” he whispered as he looked at her belly and gently rubbed that spot again, tears gathering in his eyes when he got another kick. “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt.”

“I’m so happy you can feel them,” she said and kissed his cheek to cover up her own tears. She had been able to feel them for the last month and a half and every week their movements only got stronger from fluttering to real kicks and she was so happy Andrei could feel them now.

“This is amazing,” he breathed a laugh when he got another kick from rubbing that spot again. “That’s our baby, our babies.”

“Our babies,” she agreed and squeezed his hand. “Our babies. And soon they’ll be able to hear us.”

“Really? They can hear us?” His voice was soft as he looked at her with his big brown puppy dog eyes.

“Soon they will,” she explained as she looked down at her belly with a soft smile. She may look far along since she was carrying two but she still had a long way to go. “They can hear my heartbeat now, and in another two months I think they’ll be able to hear my voice, and yours.” Andrei shook his head in disbelief making Kat squeeze his hand again, “halfway there, Drei. Our babies, our son and daughter, will be here before we know it.”

Andrei’s smile slipped for a moment before he leaned down to kiss her belly, his hand replacing his lips a moment later. “I need to be better for you and the babies,” he told her, his voice soft.

“Andrei,” she sighed, her smile slipping. It was a conversation they had had a hundred times since his injury and today was a happy day, she didn’t want the happy mood to be ruined with his sulking over his inability to serve her at hand and foot. She wasn’t helpless, just pregnant. “You’re here with us and you’re okay, that’s all I can ask for,” she told him with a bit of a pointed look.

“I need to be up and walking to take care of you and them. You’ll need to rest, Kisa,” he replied.

“Hey, no. You need to rest,” she said with a stern look, taking his hand in hers. “I can take care of things, okay? I’m not heavily pregnant yet, okay? I’m healthy and the doctor doesn’t think bedrest is in my future. I’m okay and I’ll look after you.” When Andrei frowned, she kissed him, though it didn’t last long as he pulled back with a frown.

“I need to be better by the time the babies come so I can take care of you and them,” he replied. “You carried them for nine months and then gave birth. It’s my job to look after them so you can rest and heal. I need to be better for that.”

“Andrei,” she sighed and sat up straighter to look at him. “I can take care of myself, and we have your mom and Geno and Sara, okay? We have a whole village to help us.”

“I know, but I’m their papa, I want to help, I need to help,” his voice was soft as he looked at her with his big brown eyes.

“And you will, Andrei,” she rubbed her thumb over his cheek bone. “You’re going to be an incredible papa, I know it.”

He kissed the inside of her wrist before he nodded. “And you’ll be the most amazing mama.” He just had to be better, or better enough, when the babies come. But he didn’t want it to weigh on Kat anymore so he dropped it as he looked back down at her belly. “Guess now we need to figure out our little princess’s name.”

“We have time,” she hummed and gave him a small smile. She hadn’t given girls’ names much thought, but she really liked the idea of naming the girl after Elena. Andrei adored her and the only reason she was able to get with Andrei was because of the sacrifices Elena and Igor made for Geno and Andrei, not to mention she was the best mother Kat ever had. She’d love to honour Elena in some way, but they had time to figure it out. In the meantime, she curled in closer to him and tucked her face into the crook of his neck as she said, “I love you so much, Drei.”

“I love you, too, Kat, so much.” He meant every word he said. She was his everything, his world.

It wasn’t possible for her to curl into him any closer but she tried regardless and whispered, “I never thought I could be so happy.” It made her stomach twist to think about how close she had come to marrying Derek and how different her life would have been, how much worst it would have been. Andrei was the one for her, he always had been.

“Neither could I, but then you came into my life,” he said softly, looking at her like she hung the starts in the night sky.

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I never would have thought that the bright eyed baby boy who came over from Russia and could barely speak English would end up being my baby daddy but here we are.”

Andrei’s smile grew and he couldn’t help but kiss her. “And to think you wanted nothing to do with ‘the kid,’” he said, referring to the nickname she gave him for the better hard of his first three season in the NHL.

She scrunched her nose up as she thought back to his rookie year. He was thinner then, much thinner, with soft, childlike features, and these big, clueless brown eyes because he struggled to follow the conversation. “Did you see yourself at that age? You looked like a kid. Now you’re a man,” she laughed but Andrei’s smile only grew as he looked at her.

“You called me kid up until the party where I fucked you like a man,” he said and bit his lip. She may have called him ‘kid’ a few times after that, but they both knew everything changed after they fucked in that bathroom.

Kat couldn’t help but sigh and press her legs together as she thought back to it, “you certainly did. You rocked my socks and you were still a baby compared to now.”

“Now I fuck you better?” He asked cheekily, still smirking as he looked at her.

“You do,” she hummed, happy to stroke his ego if he made him feel better. “And I think your dick’s gotten thicker, too.”

She watched as his eyes darkened and even if one good leg and her pregnant it was easy for him to turn her onto her side, grip her hips and pull her flush against him so she could feel him. It had been long, too long, since they fucked, Kat not wanting to hurt Andrei’s recovering knee and it was clear to both of them that the time apart only made both of them more desperate.

Andrei’s voice was breathy as he said, “maybe I should fuck you now then?”

Kat’s eyes fluttered closed as she moaned softly. There was nothing she wanted more than for him to fuck her, for her to be full of his cock and his cum. “But your knee,” she forced herself to say.

“You can sit on my face,” he said and kissed along her jaw. “I know you’ve been horny, baby. I know it’s been hard for you, so let me please my girl.”

He wasn’t wrong. The second trimester had made her unbearably horny but she had to keep it to herself and satisfy herself as Andrei recovered from surgery, but her dildo, vibrator and the detachable showerhead were nothing compared to the feeling of Andrei inside of her and the thought of Andrei’s mouth, the thought of Andrei’s tongue buried inside her, made her moan loudly.

Yeah okay,” she nodded and sat up to pull her shirt off, her thighs already pressed together. “I’ll blow you after.”

Andrei didn’t care about the blowjob but he smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside before he slowly slid down the bed so his head was resting comfortably on the pillow. “Come on then, pretty girl, let me take care of you,” he said and licked his lips as he waited.

“Tell me if your knee starts to bother you, okay?” She said as she stood up and peeled her (his) shirt off and pushed her loose shorts and underwear off.

“I will, I promise, Kisa.” He licked his lips as he ran his eyes over her body. “Fuck you’re so fucking hot.”

“Wait till you feel how wet I am,” she hummed and made sure his knee and neck were supported by the pillows before she straddled his middle. Part of her wanted to rut against the firmness of his abs, but she knew his mouth would be well worth the wait. He may be the youngest she ever had, but he was the best, and he genuinely loved to be buried between her thighs.

He licked his lips and reached above him to fix the pillows ever so slightly to get as comfortable as he could before he said, “come on, sit on my face, Kisa. Let me taste you.”

He didn’t have to ask again, though she took her time moving up his body and settling over him. Soon they’d have to move the pillows down lower or she wouldn’t be able fit with her growing bump, but she could fit now and that was that mattered and she clenched around nothing in anticipation. It had been so long and she needed this, needed him.

He gripped her hips and he craned his neck up and licked up her slit with a loud moan. “Fuck… so wet,” he managed to get out before he pulled her closer by her hips so he could dive in.

“Oh fuck, Drei,” she moaned loudly and gripped the headboard so she’d have something to hold onto. “Fuck I’ve missed your tongue.”

“I missed fucking you with it,” he said, his voice muffled by her pussy before he focused on her clit, knowing just how sensitive she had been. He may not have been able to fuck her after his surgery, but he had heard her vibrator and her moans in the shower and he had fingered her until she came a few times, not that it was every enough to satisfy her.

She couldn’t stop herself from grinding down on him. Ever since her morning sickness stopped she had been so sensitive and needy and it had been over two weeks since she last had his mouth or his cock and she knew she was going to cum quickly. It didn’t help that he was scruffy too. He hadn’t shaved since his surgery and his beard was rubbing against her inner thighs driving her crazy as the roughness contrasted against the softness of his lips and tongue.  

“Fuck, fuck Andrei—" she moaned loudly and ground her hips against his tongue as she got closer. “You’re gonna make me—" She couldn’t finish her sentence as she came hard on his tongue, moaning his name loudly as she held onto the headboard.

He couldn’t believe it had been two weeks since he had last tasted her cum and he moaned just as loud as he closed his eyes and focused on the taste of her, pressing his tongue into her to draw out her taste before he focused on her clit to make her cum again and he could tell from the shaking of her legs it wouldn’t take much to draw another one from her, she was so sensitive.

When he wrapped his lips around her clit, he had her reaching down to fist his hair as her high started to roll into another. “Fuck, Drei, don’t stop,” she begged him, not that he had any plans to stop. He was determined to make her cum as many times as she needed, sucking harder on her clit as he looked up at her pretty wrecked face.

Her jaw was slack and her cheeks flushed as she moaned, “oh fuck me,” and it only took a few movements of his tongue before she was cumming again.

He gave her ass a playful smack as he fucked her through it. “Taste so good, Kisa,” he said against her, his voice muffled by her as he drew it out.

It took Kat a moment to find her voice, so focused on how good Andrei felt before the need for more consumed her. She knew what the doctor said about overworking and overstraining himself but she still found herself asking, “fuck, can we— can I ride you if I’m gentle?” She was so desperate to be filled up with his cock.

Fuck what his doctor said, Andrei thought, “yes, baby, please.”

“Gotta let me take care of you,” her voice was breathy. “Just lay back and let me fuck you, Drei.” She slowly moved down and rested over his abs so she could look at him, his eyes dark and lips and chin coated in her cum.

He shifted a little to make sure his right leg was comfortable as he watched her, his cock aching for her. “You’re so fucking pretty, Kisa, especially pregnant. God, I’m such a lucky man,” he told her and licked his lips, tasting her cum, which only made him want her more.

The corner of her lip twitched up as she ground down against his abs, “you like knowing you put these babies in me, Drei?”

“Fuck yeah I do,” he grinned. “It’s so fucking hot seeing you carry our babies.”

She was gentle as she moved down and carefully helped him take his shorts and boxers down before she settled over his hips, his cock an angry red. “Needy, baby?” She asked him with a hum as she wrapped her hand around him, feeling how hard he was for her.

He groaned loudly and cursed under his breath. It had been two weeks since he had her. Two weeks too long, he thought to himself and pressed his hips into her hand, groaning when she tsked him. “Need that tight wet pussy wrapped around me,” he managed to get out and tried to pull her closer by her hips.

“I know,” she smirked and gave him a few strokes, thumbing his slit which only pulled louder moans from him.

“Kisa,” he groaned painfully. “Please, baby, it’s been too long.”

“I know,” she hummed and reached between her legs to gather some of her wetness before she stroked his cock a few more times and lined him up with her entrance and she slowly sunk down on him, moaning loudly at the feeling of him filling her up.

“Holy fuck,” he moaned loud, gripping her hips tightly to keep her still as he adjusted to the feeling of her. “You feel incredible, Kisa.”

She nodded as she tilted her head back. “I needed this,” she said, her voice breathy as she fluttered around him.

“Me too, fuck,” he groaned as he looked at her. “You feel so good.”

Kat planted her hands on his chest before she started to move slowly, not wanting to hurt him. His eyes closed and his jaw was slack as he dug his nails into her hips. No matter how many times they fucked he never got over how incredible she felt around him.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at how beautiful Kat was above him with her flushed cheeks and full chest and he slowly started to rub her clit, needing to feel her cum around his cock.

“Fuck, Andrei,” she moaned and her nails dug into the meat of his chest over how good it felt.

“That’s right, use my cock, get yourself off baby,” he moaned loudly, struggling to stay still with how good she felt around him.

She ground against him more than she rode him, fluttering around his cock as she got closer. “I’m gonna cum, Drei.”

“Then cum baby, let me feel you soak my cock,” he replied with a breathy moan, his cheeks as flushed as hers were.

He kept thumbing her clit and she was so sensitive that when she came, she raked her nails down his chest, leaving angry red lines in her wake as she moaned his name.

“Shit, baby, fuck,” he moaned, his back arching into her touch at the pain that blurred into pleasure and he knew it wasn’t going to take much more for him to cum.

“Drei, fuck, need you to fill me up, please,” Kat rolled her hips into his as best she could as she rode him, desperate to make him feel good so he could fill her up.

He cursed in Russian as he closed his eyes. “I’m gonna—” he managed to get out before he came, filling her up with a long groan. He had missed filling her up so much, missed how she fluttered around him as he pumped her full of his cum, missed knowing that a part of him was buried deep inside her.

“Yes, fuck yes, so good for me, Drei,” she praised him, slowing her hips to draw his high out for him. His moans were so loud they all but echoed in the room, but it only spurred Kat on as she pinched his nipple between her fingers, making his hips jerk up into hers as he moaned another string of Russian curses. “Good boy, you’re such a good boy for me,” she praised him, knowing damn well he loved the praise.

It took several long moments for Andrei to come down from his high and catch his breath, but once he did, Kat leaned in and kissed him softly, the kiss only lasting a moment since the size of her belly had her straining her neck. “Are you okay? Didn’t hurt you?” She asked him, gently rubbing her hand over the angry red marks she left on him but he smiled up at her with pleasure blown pupils.

“I’m so good baby, so fucking good,” he said, his chest still rising and falling quickly with the afterglow before he pulled her back in for another kiss.

She hummed into the kiss and cupped his jaw before she pulled back. “Good, missed having you inside me.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Never that long again, okay?”

“Never,” she agreed and slowly pulled back, letting him slip out of her with a soft wince before she went to the bathroom to clean herself up and came back with a warm cloth to clean Andrei up. She was gentle as she ran the cloth over his chest, abs, and cock. His skin was still flushed and his eyes were dark which kept the corner of her lip twitched up before she gentle kissed the broken skin on his chest. “Sorry,” she whispered even if she wasn’t, and even though Andrei gave her a sheepish smile.

“Don’t be, you know I like it when you mark me up, Kisa.”

She knew that, but she still shook her head before she kissed the marks again and then his lips before she tossed the cloth into the hamper. She crawled into bed, clothes forgotten, before she grabbed the rest of her cupcake off her bedside table for a much needed snack that made Andrei laugh. “What?” She asked, her voice muffled by the cake and her upper lip coated in white icing.

“Nothing,” he replied with a shake of his head. He was so incredibly in love with her.

“Babies are hungry,” she replied simply.

“Oh, of course,” he nodded before he sighed and put his hand on her belly with a soft smile. Their babies were in there, their son and daughter were in there.

Baby boy Svechnikov and his little princess baby girl Svechnikova.

He truly was the happiest guy alive.

[lovetowee]

Mommy Knows Best (Pt. 1?)

- For a friend, per their request - @unpottytrainedtboy

By: MrMister

“I think you should wear one,” I said sternly looking at my girlfriend.

            “I’m fine. There will be no issues. I’m an adult. I do not need to wear one of those.” She was referring to the pack of diapers I held in my hand.

            “Well you’ve been having accidents lately, and I’d rather not risk it going to Tiff and Logan’s tonight.” Her cheeks flushed bright red as her eyes dropped to the floor. She knew I was right.

            “It hasn’t happened very often,” she protested in a pouty voice.

            “You’ve wet the bed three times. You’ve even had daytime wetting accidents. Twice, I believe, you wet your pants. Not to mention that one time you pooped yourself.”

            “It wasn’t my fault,” she mumbled sadly. Katie was my girlfriend. She was younger than me by two years. I was twenty-six and she was twenty-four. I was the one who ‘wore the pants’ in the relationship. Little did she know that her accidents were mainly due to my influence. I’ve always had a thing for humiliating others. And nothing brought someone lower than watching them have an accident in public. I had been slipping laxatives and diuretics into her food and drinks for the past few weeks. On top of that I did things like take her on long drives. Or I had even drugged her with sleeping pills so she wouldn’t wake up when she needed to, resulting in an accident. The more she started to believe it, the more she mentally began to lose control.

            We were going to our friend’s house for the evening for some drinks. She didn’t know that tonight she was going to have a major accident. I offered her a diaper so that she might have some dignity. Even if she steadfastly refused to wear the diaper tonight, she was having the accident one way or the other. She could have it in a diaper, or in her pants.

            I had been working on weakening her control slowly. I finally believed she was losing muscle strength in her bladder and bowels. In the beginning when I spiked her food and drink with laxatives she easily made it to the washroom in time. Now, she was barely making it. I did the laundry in our house and I could see the brown skid marks in her underwear as proof. Her bladder was in real bad shape, she was actually wetting the bed unassisted most times.

            “Look, I know it’s not your fault. But you’ll feel a lot better if you’re protected.”

            “But it’s crinkly, they’ll notice,” she whined.

            “I made sure to get the discreet kind. I promise no one will notice them.”

            “Please, I promise I’ll be good.”

            I knew she wouldn’t. “Last chance: if you have an accident would you rather you soak your pants, or have it hidden in a diaper? Then I can just come home and change you in secret. No one will know.”

            “Fine,” she said resigned. She knew who the boss was in our relationship.

            We had a few hours before we were going to head over. Only thing I had to make was dinner before we left. I was making Katie’s favorite: Chicken noodle soup and garlic bread – although her soup would have a little something extra in it. So we just hung out for the afternoon enjoying each other’s company. Soon the sun started to sink and I began dinner. It didn’t take too long before everything was ready. I poured the soup in bowls, and the garlic bread on two little plates. Then I added the special ingredients to her soup: a diuretic and a very strong laxative. I planned the doses so that hopefully they would take effect while we were at Tiffany and Logan’s.

            I walked out and gave her the food. “Thank you, my Love,” she said. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and went back into the kitchen to grab my own. We ate quietly and watched TV together. After we finished I gathered the dishes and told her to start getting ready.

            “Make sure your diaper is on,” I yelled as she headed to our room. “And make sure you go pee before we leave.”

            “I will,” she said annoyed. I was smiling to myself while I washed the dishes. Tonight was going to be so much fun. Katie really had no idea. Poor thing. Once done with the dishes I went upstairs to get ready. Katie was checking herself out in the mirror when I entered our room. She wore a tight pair of jeans and a nice red shirt. Her hair was shoulder length and auburn. She was so cute, I just wanted her to be my baby forever.

            “Can you tell I’m wearing a diaper?” she asked. I walked over and pulled her shirt up. I looked down at her butt and was genuinely surprised I couldn’t tell at all. That was excellent, she would feel more confident. I wrapped my arms around her from behind. I kissed the back of her neck. My hands played with the front of her jeans feeling the padding beneath that covered her. She moaned a little as I caressed her.

            “I cannot see anything, You will be fine. Plus,” I said letting go of her, “you said you’d be a big girl tonight. So it’s just a precaution.”

            “Yeah, I’m staying dry tonight.” I chuckled quietly to myself as I finished getting ready. Within the hour we were ready and in the car. The ride was only about fifteen minutes across town. So I started the engine and we were off.

            We had barely started our trip when I could see Katie slightly fidgeting out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t believe the diuretic was already taking effect. I watched her a little more before stirring the pot. “You okay, Darling?” She just stared out the window trying to hide from my question. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

            “Is there anywhere we can quickly stop?” she asked in a little voice.

            “Why?” I wanted to make her say it out loud.

            “I really, really, have to pee,” she whimpered.

            “I told you to go before we left.”

            “I did!” she turned to me protesting, “You know I went before we left.” It was true I had seen her go into the washroom. And I had heard her successfully go pee at home.

            “Well, we’re five minutes from Tiff’s place you can go when we get there.” She had no idea it was completely out of her control. She was noticeably squirming now. Her hands were jammed between her legs. Finally as we turned onto the right street I hear my favorite sound: a small whimper.

            “Oh no,” she whispered. I pulled into the driveway, and parked the car. I looked over at Katie whose head was hung low. I knew what was happening.

            “I knew the diaper was a good idea. Finish going pee, then we’ll go in.” I turned the car off so I could hear the faint hiss of urine as she finished. We sat quietly in the car for a few minutes.

            “Can I take it off?” she turned to look at me, her eyes wet with tears. I smiled reassuringly but ultimately said, no.

            “Melissa please,” she whined, “it’s all swollen they will see.” I reached over and felt the front of her pants.

            “I cannot feel anything,” I said, undoing my seat belt. “You’ll be fine. If that is the only accident tonight, no one will be able to tell.”

            “Please just let me take it off. I’ll be good, I promise.”

            “No, let’s go,” I said firmly. “You had an accident like a toddler and you can stay in it.” I got out of the car and she slowly followed me. I grabbed her hand as we walked to the front door. I rang the doorbell and whispered, “You’ll be fine, Love.” Tiffany answered the door and ushered us in.

            “Hey guys, so glad to see you,” she said hugging me. “Logan they’re here!” She gave Katie a hug too. We took our shoes off and followed her into the house. Tiffany wore a very attractive dress. She had tan skin and very dark hair. Katie was very cute and that’s why I loved her. Tiffany was like a model. She had big breasts and a well toned butt. But she wasn’t my type. She was just too sexy for my likings. I didn’t like strong women, like Tiff, I preferred the quiet ones like Katie whom I could control a little more easily. And it didn’t matter anyway because Tiffany was straight.

            The kitchen was loaded with snacks: meat, cheese and veggies. Logan and Tiff were well off so they always supplied everything when we came over to visit. I could see the TV room, the football game was on and Logan was standing in front watching.

            “Here,” Tiffany said handing us each a glass of wine. “Logan come say hello.” Katie and Tiff started up a conversation as Logan came over to me with a beer in one hand.

            “Hey Gals, how are things?”

            “Great,” I said happily, “Katie just got a promotion at her job.”

            “Oh that’s amazing!” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “Tiffany is still hunting for a better job.”

            “Oh my God,” Tiff spoke up, “I cannot stand working for my new boss, he’s such a dick. Ever since he started my whole job has just sucked.” We all just shot the shit for a while. We sipped our drinks, and snacked on snacks. Tiffany was my friend from High School. That is where she had met Logan. They had gotten married early and they’ve always done well for themselves. They were a bit basic in my opinion. They’re the type of people who think ‘Doggy Style’ was something that was hot and exciting. I was also pretty sure Logan had a crush on me. Even though he knew that I was playing for the other team.

            Eventually we started playing cards. Logan bounced between that and the football game. We all talked about our lives and caught up on all we had missed in the last few weeks. I kept feeding Katie drinks in the hope it would make her more forgetful. I stopped drinking because I said I had to drive, but that wasn’t the real reason. I wanted to be alert for when what I hoped would happen, happened.

            We snacking again and Tiff was telling me all about her horrible boss when Katie stood up and announced she was going to the washroom. I cut her off and kissed her quickly whispering, “Your diaper better stay on.” She nodded.

            She hugged me and said, “I’m just going pee, honest. I told you I would be okay.” I couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary and there were no wet spots on her pants from a second accident. Her bladder must not have been as weak as I hoped, much to my dismay. I went back and continued my conversation with Tiffany.

            In a few minutes Katie was back. She came over and stood by me. I wrapped my arms around her back. I looked like I just had my arm around her waist, but my fingers played with the waist of her jeans. Yes, I felt the diaper. She had not removed it. Not that I cared if she did, it would just be more of a mess in her pants. How silly of me, I thought rubbing her back now. She had nowhere to throw the diaper away. She had to keep it on. Katie poured herself another drink. Her cheeks were red since she was starting to get drunk.

            Logan’s football game finally ended and he came over to chat, his attention no longer divided. He told me about this idea he had for a business. It sounded similar to an idea I had. So we were talking avidly about that while Katie and Tiff were engrossed in a topic I couldn’t quite make out. I was watching Katie, lost in her conversation, and sipping her drink. Every now and then her hand casually moved over her tummy. The laxatives were having an effect, I thought happily to myself. I was hoping Katie was too distracted to notice her growing urge. Even if she slightly noticed the urge she had difficulty pooping at other people’s houses. So I bet she would try to stall as long as possible.

            Katie and Tiff came over, and all four of us were all eagerly chatting. I was contributing but I didn’t know what I said because I was watching and hoping.

            Then, mid conversation, it happened.

            Katie’s stomach and bowels made a loud, audible gurgle. She stopped talking as her eyes opened wide. The sounds from her were quite obvious and everyone had stopped talking now, in shock. We could hear wet, messy sounds as her bowels emptied themselves into her diaper. I could just imagine the warm mess spreading between her cheeks. I could tell she was trying to stop herself but the laxatives were too strong. And with a final bubbly, squish sound she was done. Silence and a smell began to waft around the kitchen. Katie’s eyes watered and she rushed off to the washroom, hiding her face.

            “Is she okay?” Tiff asked. Logan just looked disgusted.

            “I better go check,” I excused myself. I was probably the only person at the moment who was ecstatic. I was over the moon. Everything had gone perfectly. I could feel my panties getting damp with arousal. But I had to play this well. I needed to get her home and comfort her. When I was all she had, she would be my baby.

            I knocked on the door, “It’s me.” I could hear her crying as she unlocked the door. I got in, closed the door and gave her a hug. “It’s okay,” I soothed, “it’s okay. Just breathe.” She cried into my shoulder. I was so turned on. It was her embarrassment – plus the smell of her mess – really had me soaked. This wasn’t about me though, not yet at least.

            “Honey, I’m going to tell them you’re sick and not feeling well.” She rubbed some tears from her eyes, but nodded. “You stay here, and when I come back we’ll go right to the car. Okay?” She nodded again.

            I left the bathroom, once again closing the door behind me. Logan and Tiffany were whispering heatedly as I approached the kitchen. They stopped as I got near.

            “So is she okay?” Tiff asked again.

            “She’s not feeling well, maybe a little too much to drink,” I explained. “We’re just going to head home.”

            “I hope she feels better soon,” Tiff added. I could tell she didn’t care. Her and Logan were too normal to really be able to handle something like this.

            “Of course,” I said, “sorry. Thanks for the the great night. We’ll just let ourselves out.” With that I turned to go. Neither of them followed to see us out. I could make out Logan saying, “She shit her pants, that’s so gross.” It didn’t faze me; I had what I came for.

            I knocked on the bathroom door and ushered her out. She was still crying with her head hung low. Outside we went and got into the car. Tiff and Logan would probably never invite us back, but who needed Normies? Katie stood outside of the car with the door open, staring at the seat.

            “Come on Katie-bear, hop in.”

            “But, but,” she protested through tears.

            “it cannot get any worse, Honey. Just get in and get it over with. The sooner we’re home the sooner I can clean you up.” She slowly got in the car, trying to put as little weight as she could on the mess in her diaper. But it was a losing battle. She looked mortified as her dirty bum mush have squished all around her diaper. She started to cry again as soon as the door was closed. I pulled out of the driveway. The smell of her accident was very obvious in our small car.

            “Well, aren’t you glad you wore the diaper?”

            “I guess,” she sniffled.

            “At least your pants didn’t get ruined.”

            “But now Tiff and Logan think I’m a disgusting baby.”

            “No they don’t,” I reassured her.

            “Yes they do. Plus I smell gross and I feel gross. And I’m a grown woman who just shit her pants.” She continued crying and I loved every second of it. “I don’t even care anymore.” I didn’t quite know what she meant by that last comment, but soon in the passing street lights I could make out a dark spot growing on the front of her jeans. She was peeing again, and not even trying to hold it. The diaper was too full from her previous wetting and it had begun to leak. “Since everyone thinks I’m a baby, I’ll just potty in my pants like a baby.” I hoped she was serious, but she also was quite drunk, so maybe it was that. Either way whether she accepted it or not she was going to be using diapers the rest of her life.

            “Katie you’re beautiful and I love you. I’m always here for you. I don’t think you’re a baby. You’re strong, independent, and you’re my big girl. It’s okay to have accidents every now and again.”

            “Really?” she asked, her tears starting to finally dry.

            “Who cares if you shit yourself, it happens to the best of people.” She was quiet. “You don’t know this but Tiff wet herself at a party when we were sixteen. It can happen to anyone.”

            “Okay,” she mumbled, “I love you.” Her tears had dried and she just stared out the window. We got home and pulled into our driveway. I turned the car off and got out. Lucky for her it was dark, so even if our neighbors were out no one would be able to see anything. Katie got out of the car and slowly waddled to the front door. I could tell she did not like the feeling of her dirty bum.

            “Wait for me upstairs,” I commanded. She knew where to go to get changed. This obviously wasn’t the first time.

            Alright, I thought to myself, time to take this thing home! I went to the covered where I had hid a few things for a moment like this. I removed them from their packaging and got everything ready before I heading upstairs and dealing with my very wet, very messy baby girl.

            I set the items down where she couldn’t see. I grabbed the wipes, baby powder, and a fresh diaper. She was already laying on the floor with her clothes off. I had trained her well.

            “You had some trouble tonight, Sweetie. So we’re going to put you in another diaper for bed.” She didn’t fight me this time, she just looked at me and nodded. I undid the sides of her diaper and opened it up. Her whole bum was covered in poop. The whole diaper was a wet, brown mess. Her perfectly shaved vagina was also covered from when she had sat on her dirty bum. She really looked like a two-year-old who had just had a blowout. Her hands covered her face in embarrassment. As if hiding would make the mess and shame disappear.

            “At least your tummy is happy now, with all that yuck out,” I reassured as I pat her belly gently. “It would have been all over your nice panties if you weren’t in diapers. Then you’d feel really little.” I grabbed some wipes and started to get to work. I began with her butt cheeks that were caked in warm poop. I wiped and wiped and slowly her cheeks were white once more. I was cleaning her little butt hole when she started to whimper.

            “Mel,” she said in a tiny voice.

            “Yes, Honey,” I said. My hand stopped cleaning her.

            “My tummy is grumbly again.” Her eyes were wet with tears again.

            “You have to potty again?” She nodded. “Okay,” I said and quickly slipped a fresh diaper under her partially cleaned bum and taped it up. “Mommy is here, you get all the yuckies out.”

            “Okay, Mommy,” she responded. She stopped looking at me and turned to face the wall. I was happy these laxatives were still doing their job. I hadn’t even finished cleaning the first mess and she was about to go for round two! Before she started her business I walked over and grabbed one of the items from the table. I walked back over and popped the pacifier into her mouth. She took it without protest and began to suck on it quietly. Through the sucking I could hear her pushing as she wetly went potty into her fresh diaper. I watched it bulge out as her bubbly, farty mess poured out of her. I just wanted to stick my face down there. It sounded like another soft mess. A couple more pushes and some noise between her legs, and she must have finally finished.

            “All done,” she said sounding childish talking with a soother in her mouth.

            “For sure this time?” I asked in my stern Mommy voice. “Don’t have to pee again?” she shook her head. “And no more poops?” Head shake again. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll clean you up. Just enjoy your pacifier.”

            So once again I undid her diaper. Her mess was a lot creamier and it smelled very bad this time around, not that I wasn’t turned on. Katie was holding her nose as I started to clean her butt cheeks again. I got her pale cheeks nice and clean for the second time. I made sure in between the cheeks and her butt hole were spotless. Finally I cleaned up her vagina, making sure to clean her well to avoid infections. After I was done I gently teased her pussy lips. She moaned softly as I touched her. Then, before things got too out of hand, I covered her in baby powder and taped a new diaper on her.

            “Go get your onesie on, please.” Katie got up, still sucking her soother, and grabbed an orange fox onesie from the closet. She put it on and got in bed. She knew the drill. I brought the other item I had prepared over: a bottle of milk. I took the pacifier out of her mouth and she looked upset. I quickly handed her the bottle and she eagerly started drinking it. She closed her eyes.

            “Sleep tight, Angel,” I said kissing her forehead.

            “Good night, Mommy,” she said quietly. And I left her to sleep. I hoped she was embracing this lifestyle, and it wasn’t still the booze talking. Either way she was mine. I had spiked the milk with a sleeping pill, another light diuretic, and a basic laxative. She would have no idea. Hopefully she would wake up wet and messy. Then we could do this all again tomorrow.

            I smiled to myself, Mommy always got what she wanted.

[cookies-and-mirrors]

Prison of Stone and Flesh

Chapter Twenty One

This is a collaborative fic between @cookiesupplier and @faceless-mirror.

Dividers by @samspenandsword @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics

Authors Note: Angsty SMUT ahead

Pairings: Multi-Pairings, Everybody x Everybody.

Triggerlist: transphobia, homophobia, abuse, SA, dubcon, religious trauma, past suicide attempts, mental health issues, grief, death, violence, (To be added to)

Christopher, Justin, and Ryan are members of the Gargoyle Order, soldiers fighting in the angels war against the demonic supernatural evils of the world to protect human kind. Through the years they lost comrades and now just the three of them remain in their little town.

Now, Ricky and Vinny are moving into their church, stirring up old and new feelings, along with the past, posing the challenge of navigating this new chapter in their lives.

Can they all navigate this path successfully and break free of the prisons that is their lives of both stone and flesh, or will they all be trapped forever in a world that could prove to be a constant misery?

MASTERLIST HERE

Taglist: @miamore0570 @21-century-tae @dragon-chica @shilohrosechicken @comforting-madness

@missduffsblog @witchyweeb34 @spicywhenspeaking @lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens

@bngurngheart @dominuslunae @collapsedglasshouses @emmmm127 @sunsshinesunny

@latenightmusiclover @dontdiganothergravetoday @high-wire

(please comment/like/reblog/message to be added to taglist)

Chapter Twenty One

Ryan was thankful that he was on patrol with Chris, as much as he loved Justin, he did, he knew that the man wasn’t able to ever keep his mouth shut. He would just jabber on and on all night long. Look at what happened after Chris spent the night with Vinny, he brought him home almost disembowelled by a demon, Ryan didn’t want his insides almost to end up on the ground thank you very much. All because Justin couldn’t keep his mouth shut. No, Chris would be respectful, and hopefully, potentially keep his thoughts to himself.

Though, even if that was asking too much, he’d at least be decent about it, and stop if he asked him to.

Chris, he was just happy to get out of the Church. While he’d gone out the night before and had his little tiff with the hellhound before that, had Jerahmiel called it, Oli? Had shown up, what kind of hellhound had that one been? He’d never seen the likes of one that massive before. It was either old, or a new breed so massive, that hell had specific plans in mind for it. That worried Chris, what did Hell have planned to have sent something that massive out to guard a fallen angel? Jerahmiel had to be a fallen if Gwynn was classed as one, right? Gwynn was a precious being, to be called fallen, Jerahmiel had to be one too.

They were walking in silence, both of them so focused on keeping guard, and their own minds if they were honest. Chris had Chenza back in Vinny, and Ryan… Ryan was not going to talk about it, about any of it. Most of all, though, it was the night after Halloween, and the night after Halloween was just as bad as the night itself. There was no telling how many demons were able to slip through the veil between the realms the night before when it was so thin.

Hearing a scream down an alley down the street, Ryan already had his hammer drawn, extending the handle ready to swing, Chris extracted his daggers from their sheaths immediately, unquestionably. Their steps quickened on the pavement as they broke into a run down the street, following the sounds of the mortal's distress. They rounded the corner of an alley to find a circle of demons surrounding a woman, that was all, a single woman.

“Never change it up, do you boys, always have to gang up on the weak and the helpless.” Ryan’s words came as both gargoyles grew larger, their bodies shifting into their bestial forms, covered in their living stone, wings erupting from their backs as the demons let out vicious shrieks. Scales shed from the beasts before the gargoyles down in the alley, they didn’t even need to run at them. The hoard of hell spawn didn’t have a cell in their collective minds when they decided to come at the immortal warriors, running toward them to their dooms. They intended to guard their prey, but Chris and Ryan weren’t about to let that woman stay in their clutches.

At the church, Gwynn was up and moving best they could, though right now, Gwynn was eating, as Vinny was feeding Honesty and themself as many eggs as possible, along with feeding Justin. Ricky had crashed back to bed as soon as he had come back from the restroom, and was currently still asleep in his room. Vinny had already lured his mate away with cheesy scrambled eggs and fresh bacon and ham steaks with green onions sprinkled over both. Justin had walked out of Ricky’s room, and taken one look at Atsuko with all those plates in front of him, and smiled. He remembered that first morning with Vinny cooking all those different eggs for him, Vinny making all those different types, trying to figure out what he liked to eat, and figuring out… yesss cheesy scrambled eggs. Climbing onto the stool, and devoting his love for Vinny right there, she was perfection.

Gwynn had been dazed, not remembering much but feeling… good and confident. They were eager to see Ryan after patrol, wanting to wrap him up in their arms and wings, but part of them knew better, still fearful of that harsh touch. 

Chris and Ryan fought hard through the hoard of demons, and it was a hoard. Turned out there was a small tear in the veil that they used a rune to seal before they could leave. The more they fought, the more demons that kept pushing through, thankfully the woman got away unscathed while they slashed and smashed their way through the gore of the masses. The bodies of the demons bursting into flames and descending back down to hell the moment they were hit with the runed weapons. Once Chris had sealed the tear with his daggers dipped in holy water, they killed the last few of the demons and finally, they could rest… Just a moment… Shit…

Now, now, they could make their way back to the church. 

Rather than walk, they took to the skies, knowing they were drenched in blood, and if they were seen, they would raise a few eyebrows… just a few.

A teenager looked out the window to see them and shouted, “DAD. THERE ARE GIANT MONSTERS OUTSIDE-”

A booming voice came from deeper in the home, “Damn it, Will! Did you get into my mushrooms again?”

Chris took in a sharp breath, glancing over at Ryan, they had both heard the kid shout, even from the sky, they could hear, well, everything almost. What were they going to do, usually it was dark enough they could be hidden, and then, before either of them could say anything, the next voice came… The amusement that washed over him was such a shock to his system that he almost forgot how to fly for a second. For a second, he almost fell from the sky, Chris having to grab at him before he got too low... that had his commander smirking and laughing his ass off at him.

“And to think, I didn’t think I’d get a laugh out of tonight.”

Gwynn looked up as the rush of the night air changed, they were back! They moved to greet them freezing seeing Ryan, jaw slack and looking over him, they swallowed, “Hi.” they wanted to reach out and touch him, but something told them not to reach out. A voice. A worry in the back of their mind, itching and angry, snarling in their head.

Landing on the balcony of the rectory, while they had more access than that, they had the different alcoves open, this was the one that they used. There was also the fact that so many of the alcoves used to belong to fallen members of their troupe, and it felt, different, to traipse over them sometimes. They were both so covered in blood, and heaven knows what, they were probably dripping it everywhere…

Chris looked between Gwynn and Ryan, “I'm going to clean up at Vinny’s.” Escaping the rectory before either of them could say a thing, he wasn’t going to deal with that tension right now, not to mention he wanted to be near his mate. 

Ryan took in a deep breath, swallowing, there was an adrenaline rush after a fight, but he was covered in blood and the thought of tainting Gwynn, tainting… clearing his throat brokenly… “I’ll just… uh…”

“I could join you- or… I would have but-” Gwynn stopped talking, remembering their leg, and sighed, “Go ahead and clean up. Get some rest if you want… whatever feels right.” they said gently, licking their lips, “If you want to… find me later?” they offered sweetly.

Ryan’s breath caught, if he wanted, what he wanted, the feeling then that gripped him was like Jerahmiel was standing behind him, reaching under his rib cage, and wrapping his fingers around his heart and gripping. A rune on his back glowing, focusing the pain for a moment before fading back and disappearing again, the illusion disappearing with it. Swallowing heavily, his fingers flexing by his sides, “Alright.” Shifting on his feet before making for the bathroom, inching his way around them.

Gwynn took off from the balcony, going up to their old alcove, touching the door before easing in, seeing it covered in dust and dirt. Some birds had once roosted here but no longer… they paused before clapping, and it steadily cleaned itself. Leaving the room spotless, Gwynn sighed and looked around. They upgraded the bed with a simple touch and laid down groaning softly, their body stretched out as their fingers worked their pants out of the way, stroking their fingers over their folds slowly, moaning softly his name.

Listening just inside the door for the sound of them leaving, sighing as Ryan knew he was alone, damn, what was he doing. This morning, this morning, had been so different. He hadn’t even slept properly, in what more than twenty-four hours, he was dead on his feet. Okay, he’d rested some with Gwynn this afternoon, and it had felt so strange, nothing compared to a rejuvenation cycle of stone, but, not the point, he, he didn’t know what the fuck he was thinking right now. Stripping the bloody clothes from his body in the bathroom, discarding them aside, he stepped into the shower, he started it and just began scrubbing, washing every inch of his marred and scarred body.

They weren’t supposed to scar. Gargoyles, with their ability to seal their wounds with one rejuvenation cycle, they were never supposed to form visible scars on their bodies. Even Chris, when he’d taken so long to heal, it had all been internal, his muscles struggling to support his bodies internal functions. How or why they could never explain it, but injuries that they endured always took longer to heal, leaving them to linger in pain.

Once he was clean, that was when Ryan’s fingers were wrapping around his cock. Sighing, thinking about one person, a face, a name he’d once forgotten falling from his lips, that he hadn’t said like this in so long.

Alone, Gwynn was whimpering and mewling in pleasure, legs shaking, as they remembered the feeling of waking up with Ryan. His cock had slid between their clothed cheeks and remembering that, Gwynn stroked faster, teasing the clit that had adapted instead of their cock they still missed. They teased their folds as they melted in delight, trembling with their eyes rolled back.

Ryan braced himself against the wall of the shower with his other hand as he stroked his cock, head hung forward. Hair wet as the scalding hot water running down his body washing away pink with the blood down the drain all evidence of the patrol forgotten now as he moaned out, “Gwynn…” Having his hands on them this morning was too much, and, not enough, more than he’d ever deserve again and he knew it. 

Gwynn was moaning fingers working into them as their other hand gripped the sheets beneath them softly, whimpering out Ryan's name, pleadingly. “Ryan- Ryan please-!” They whispered, throbbing as they moved just a bit faster.

Groaning as the warmth of the water was a poor replacement for the press of Gwynn’s body against his, the feel of them wrapped around him, being inside of them, their cock in his hand instead of his own. No… fuck… that could never happen again, could it? He’d never feel their cock in his hand again… not that he had any right to touch them at all again any longer, anyway. Thumb rubbing over the tip, so careful, and it wasn’t even how he liked, it was, he sobbed, they, they had always liked, “Go on baby, cum for me…” Words barely gasped from his lips as his hand works them in his mind, not wanting to let go of this moment. He wasn’t going to get a reality, why couldn’t he have this?

The angel squirmed and gasped, wings fluttering as they fought their orgasm for a minute before crying as they came, imagining Ryan’s frame pressed over theirs as they sobbed out his name cumming hard. They wouldn't get it for a while yet… they would earn it back. The right to touch him.

The feeling of his orgasm ripped through Ryan as he came into his hand with Gwynn’s name on his lips. There was a pain to his pleasure now, and admitting that to anyone never happened, ever, but a sob escaped him, knowing that he couldn’t escape it. Escape the things that he’d done, the horrible monster that he’d become, giving in. He hadn’t just been abused, he’d wanted it, time and time again, just so he could feel anything at all, for centuries. Sure, Ryan had never been wanting for lovers in the troupe, even as their numbers as dwindled, but it had always been different. He was the monster, he was ruined, and he knew it, Jerahmiel always made sure he knew it. He had accused Gwynn… And yet, he was the one that would never deserve them… Ever.

Gwynn stared at the ceiling, tears in their eyes, longing for the gargoyle they loved, wanting to be buried in his arms once more. Wondering if they would ever feel him like that again now that he knew how broken they were. What they had been used for. Then they got up, cleaning up and laid back down curled up ignoring the throbbing in their leg.

Chris had gone to clean up with Vinny, and spend some time with her, coming back from a patrol like that was always a horrific feeling. He had known it would be jarring for her to see him like that, and while he could have cleaned up beforehand, continuing to hide everything, wouldn’t have felt right. What's more, staying around Ryan, and Gwynn, with that tension, he didn’t think anyone in this building wanted that. 

Sexual, emotional, it was just all kinds of tragic and passionate and none of them wanted to deal with it.

So after he cleaned up, and spent a rather substantial amount of time wrapped up in bed with his mate, reaffirming her he was alive, and perfectly fine. No more injuries. No demons had gotten a scratch on him… Even though one had almost gutted him just a few weeks ago, yes he understood her upset there, these things happened, he was fine… Chris went looking for Gwynn. Eventually, he went looking for them in their old room. He couldn’t remember if anyone had ever taken up their old alcove they’d once shared with Ryan, or if even Ryan had been able to bring himself to stay in there, after…

Knocking on the doorway, he waited, “Gwynn, Justice?”

“Come in.” Gwynn called, standing up, leaning on their cane as they grunted softly. “I'm good. I'm right here… I figured I should clean up the alcove… since…”

The alcoves tended to appear a lot smaller from the outside of the church than they were on the inside. This was one of the higher ones, and if Chris was honest, he was surprised the magic expanding the inside still worked. Then again, it was connected to Gwynn, so that was why it did. Nodding as he stepped in, “Of course, I just thought, I’d come by, see how you were going, healing, whether physically, or, otherwise?” Chris had gotten used to being the one to watch out for those around him, even if it was technically Gwynn’s job, it didn’t even occur to him to let it go now they had returned to them. Gwynn was still healing, just demanding everything of them would be detrimental anyway.

They smiled at him softly, “I'm okay… I'll be fine… I don't know if Ryan will ever want to move back in here… but…” Gwynn stopped looking over to see the hand carved cradles that Ryan had made for their future babies and their eyes watered. “When I was in heaven, I had dreamed of being here… home with Ryan… I'm fine. I’m fine…” Gwynn said, talking fast enough to distract themself from the cradle haunting them. They had been so excited, remembering when Ryan had shown them the matching set of cradles. Their diamond eyes gleamed in pain and anguish. “... I’m fine, but, but Ryan-”

Chris couldn’t say if Ryan would want back in this particular alcove either, sometimes, the past could weigh on you, such as those cradles. Would Gwynn feel the same about those cradles? So bittersweet with both wonderful and painful feelings, it would bring should anyone suggest using them for any babies the troupe brought into the world, some potentially very soon. By the angel, if Jerahmiel was right, those babies weren’t just going to be half-breeds, and Gwynn had heard everything. They hadn’t blinked. He wasn’t sure how to take that if he was honest. 

“Gwynn, breathe, Ryan will be fine.” Chris was worried about them, he knew Ryan, he knew he could handle himself. They would have to figure out how to get him help, but he was more worried about Gwynn right now, with the way they were talking so fast. He reached carefully for their shoulders to gently turn them away from the room to the panel to the outside from the alcove. “We will work it out, you have my oath. I’m more worried about you right now.”

They looked up at Chris, silver eyes glimmering. “… what if he doesn't want me anymore? Am I too broken? I'm not able-bodied anymore. I can't even walk properly-” they whispered, closing their eyes and leaning their head back, staring up at the stone ceiling. “I wouldn't blame him if he hated me for everything… I can’t even fight right now, I’m not strong enough anymore… I don’t know what to do.”

The angel was broken. “And now… knowing because I was gone… Ryan got hurt more than I could have imagined… I hate myself more.”

Chris shook his head slightly, “Vinny told me Ryan’s first reaction upon seeing you, well, aside from confusion, there is no way, in the creator's blessed earth, that gargoyle does not want you anymore.” Sighing, these two, what was he going to do with them. “Besides, sadly, you are not the only one that is broken, able-bodied or not, it's not going to matter to him Gwynn, or any of us… Vin and I care for you too, and I’m sure Justin, and Ricky will love you just the same once they know you.” Provided the nephilim issue doesn’t prove a problem…

Reaching for Gwynn’s hand now, “Gwynn, I’m so sorry, but the truth is this isn’t your fault, the only people at fault were the people who kept you away, the people that tortured you both. Until we can get justice for both of you, all we can do, is do our best to help the two of you deal with this trauma… tell me, please, how can I help you deal with yours?” This wasn’t all about Ryan.

They looked at Chris’ hand holding their own, and they trembled, holding it just a bit tighter, “… Chris… I don’t know… I have no idea what to do… for the first time I’m clueless, and I’m looking for stability… and I can’t find it. Every time I think I have a grip, it's torn away… I felt best being near him. I don’t know what to do… Chris. I just wanted to be close to him, but he didn’t seem to want to be close to me, and I don’t know how to relax around him again. I just want my mate to touch me.” they whispered, chest aching. “Yet I’m terrified of his touch at the same time. What’s wrong with me…? He… I miss him… But… I don’t know what you can do… I’m better from resting with Ryan for a bit… My leg isn’t as sore… but…” they sighed, “If you could get him to come and see me even if I’m asleep… That would help.”

Pausing, Chris couldn’t say on what Ryan wanted, though he did know while he was fighting against being near Vinny, every cell in his being wanted to be right beside her, but he pulled back, so… maybe. The difference was, they were already mates, and for them, it was so much more painful, he knew Ryan had to be feeling this as much as Gwynn, they had both been feeling this pain for the last thousand years. It was a part of the bond. It had been, to put it as kindly as possible, slowly killing them. Nodding slightly, his hand squeezing Gwynn’s gently, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Gwynn nodded slowly, braiding their hair a bit, mostly just to keep it out of the way with how dreadfully long it was now. They would need to cut it soon… Perhaps in the morning. “Thank you- thank you, Chris. I don't quite know what to make of this…”

“None of us do.” His mate had come back from the dead, their handler had come back from heaven, and turned out wasn’t as dead as they had been led to believe. Pausing, “We should get out of the Church for a moment, to breathe… Maybe after we take some time to sleep all of this off tomorrow morning.”

They nodded with a soft smile, sitting back down and crawled under the covers. They were exhausted, but at least it was better.

Chris moved towards their bed, reaching for the covers to pull them tighter over Gwynn and tuck them in, he’d go down to Ryan, and then go talk to the others about what they could do tomorrow. Something they could work out they could do that was relaxing, or at least together. They needed to be able to watch over Gwynn and Atsuko, Atsuko, because it had been so long since he’d been, well, socialized. If Chris was honest, Atsuko had never been that good around mortals, he had a tendency to, well, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He loved him, he did, but you try convincing him that lying was the actual virtue when it came to hiding from the mortals what they were. Still, after how long in the catacombs, he deserved out in the world too. Even if they had to duct tape his mouth shut! Gwynn, was healing, Chris wasn’t going to risk them getting traumatized anymore. 

“I’ll talk to the others, and figure something out for tomorrow. You rest… And Gwynn,” As he tucked them in, he spoke softly, leaning over, Chris pressed a soft kiss to their cheek, “Ryan isn’t the only one that missed you.” He did. He knew their relationship hadn’t been the best. Chris had been different back then, but he’d trusted Gwynn with his life, more than any other angel, and he’d give his life for them. Having them back meant the world. “Sleep well.” Now, to go kick Ryan’s butt and get him up here.

Gwynn's eyes widened, and they turned, leaning up enough to kiss his cheek in return. “I missed you all as well… sincerely.” they added as they laid back down, curling up once more. With that, they nodded and after a few moments drifted off, savoring the quiet and being home… As much as home was right now.

Their leg was stretched out stiff from earlier but otherwise comfortable on their side of the bed, and that was how Ryan found them when he stepped through the doorway of the alcove. Chris had indeed come down to the rectory. None of the three of them had stayed in any of their alcoves in so long, they hadn’t seen the point, besides, when their beast forms had been moved, they hadn’t really had a choice anymore. Gwynn they actually slept, Ryan he, he remembered now, laying beside Gwynn, wrapped up in their arms, after patrol, waiting for them to wake from their nap. 

Chris had argued, that no matter how Ryan felt, that he knew that just being in his presence would aide, Gwynn’s healing. So whether he felt that either of them deserved the other… 

“No, no, don’t argue, I don’t care what you think Ryan, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard Gwynn’s side, I’ve no doubt yours is probably the exact same on the reverse. You are both going to be a pain in my ass, I can feel it. Just go up there, and lay with them. You and I both know, the mating bond, and touch, helps the healing process. Now march.”

Ryan had felt guilty hearing that, remembering Chris in his delusional state trying to get to Vinny. They all realized later that he had accidentally mated to Vinny already, and if he’d let him go to her, his healing might have been smoother. There would have been a lot more questions, but it would have been smoother. Now he climbed into bed with Gwynn, and sighed softly, wrapping around them, gently, careful of their leg, slowly drifting off to sleep for the rest of the night, and into the next day.