#prompt: heat wave | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andydona-chan · 2 years

Text

Ghostly Sweat

Ok, this one doesn't have anything to do with Dannymay (I'm behind, but I'll try to catch up), but is one I wanted to do for some time, I made another version of this but I didn't really like it and it wasn't as funny, it was angst and I was aiming for something more fun, prompt was taken from @floralflowerpower prompt list, though I may have forgotten the AC not working and to make everyone else suffer... But I like it, so have this version, and maybe, if I manage to correct and like the other version I made I'll also share it with you.

“Ewwww! Fentonio is sweating buckets!”

Dash’s voice caught everyone’s attention, but he tried to ignore it so the others could do the same. Not only were they currently in the smallest classroom in the school watching some kind of movie that their professor thought was a good idea to watch during this heat wave, with a lot of sweaty and smelly teenagers all huddled together with the windows and curtains closed, no, they were also standing cause the desks on the classroom had been taken by other students… as a replacement for the damaged ones after a ghost attack.

So they twenty something or so students were all standing in the room, in lines of 5 in a dark and hot room watching a video on… what now? Fetal development, if the image of the cells multiplying into weird shapes and then developing a spine and eyes was anything to go by… oh, that was a tiny hand, yeah, it was totally about that, hadn’t they seen this video like twice this year?

“Danny, you’re dripping, you sure you’re alright?” asked Mikey who was standing next to him, maybe because they were more or less the same height, so much for trying to ignore the comment.

“I’m fine, is just really hot here” Mikey gave him a side glance and nodded.

“I thought ghosts didn’t sweat” he whispered.

“I’m only half ghost, my human half does it” said Danny plainly.

“Yeah, but not to this extent” said Star from behind him, “there’s already a puddle on the floor, or did you have an accident?” Danny managed to not roll his eyes at the comment; her amused smile could be heard even without seeing her face.

He looked down to check what was happening, and to his surprise he did found a puddle, his shoes were all wet and when he lifted a foot he felt his tennis shoe heavier than usual and the positively not nice feeling of a wet sock inside it. Grimacing, he lifted his eyes again towards the video, whipping his forehead with a hand to remove his hair from it. Only to find whatever was dripping from his head, stuck on his hand and in the same color of his hair…

Alarmed, Danny gasped and shook his hand, making his classmates to complain about being splashed, but things didn’t stop there, now that he had done that, his skin started looking the same, as if it was melting.

“Help!” he managed to say, the group immediately turned to look at him, if you wanted to describe it, it looked as if Danny had been covered in barely made jelly, sticky like ectoplasm but too liquid to be it.

“Mr. Fenton, the video is alm…” said the professor who had the only chair in the room before looking at him.

Sam and Tucker had already made their way towards him and were pulling him towards the door, Danny was holding onto Tucker as his feet slid on the floor as if he was walking on ice… Now that he thought about it…

The teacher was already calming down the rest of his classmates and telling Sam what to do next, as if she didn’t know how to handle it better than him. Danny tried to stay still for a moment and called out his transformation once out of the room, only to change back a second later and drop to his knees in pain.

“What the hell is going on Danny?” asked Sam looking at him with concern as she offered her hand and Tucker grabbed at him to lift him up.

“I think it’s some kind of survival mode?” he said finally standing up in wobbly legs, “when I transformed it was painful” he said rubbing at his chest; they made their way towards Mr. Lancer’s office who was the nearest person at school that was willing to help them in this cases.

“Well, at least you saved us the rest of that video and the next class, perks of being friends with Amity Park’s local hero” said Tucker, who had managed to pull out his pocket fan and was now directing it towards the two of them, only to have to catch it midair when Danny’s feet slid dangerously on the floor, Sam grabbed him on the other side.

“Yeah, right, I don’t know how we’re going to fix this, but I’m pretty sure you won’t want to participate” said Danny as Sam knocked on the door.

The girl made a face “Whatever this is, and I truly want this to be anything else, I hope it doesn’t happen again, sorry but, ghostly sweat stinks worse than human sweat if that’s what it is” she said pinching her nose and smiling at Danny’s offended face.

Mr. Lancer opened the door and was about to ask them to come in when he saw them “Creatures of the Deep! What happened?”

Explaining what was happening and how it started was easy to do, however finding a solution wasn’t simple. With the decision that exposing Danny to the sun to go back home – avoiding at all costs calling Jack Fenton, who would just come in his giant motorized and steel covered Fenton GAV – they decided that the safest option was to keep Danny in the coolest place in the school.

And that’s how Danny spent the rest of the day and a good part of the evening in the fridge chamber of the school.

#danny phantom #fanfic #prompt fill #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #phanphic #dp fanfic #dp fic #mr. lancer #dash baxter #dp mikey #dp star #heat wave

87 notes · View notes

cosmic-whorror · 2 years

Text

Monster boyfriend prompt of the day:

Heat wave

#y’all it is TOO DAMN HOT IN THIS HOUSE #our AC almost ended its own life from overwork #even our outlets were overheated last night #I feel rough AF #I hate summer #monster boyfriend #prompt #heat #heat wave

39 notes · View notes

cctinsleybaxter · 2 years

Text

People’s obsession with karmic retribution on social media is starting to feel really unhealthy; even if you don’t fully believe in karma the more you make/engage with those kinds of posts the more you get into thinking patterns that people are subject to some kind of nebulous cosmic judgement (and it starts off small- you wonder if you deserve to have bad luck because you were being bad, you decide a celebrity earned something for clearing a bar of human decency, whatever.) If karma were real there would be a theme park over kissinger’s rotting grave- the sooner we accept that bad things can happen to anyone and that truly horrible people may never see justice the better we can start to engage with the world

#prompted by that person trying to be progressive by celebrating the heat wave in the uk as karma and people having to step in like #‘this is happening to other countries and also the people it’s actually impacting in the uk are disenfranchised’#anyway #i think there’s a big difference between celebrating when something bad happens to someone you hate and visa versa (love!)#and thinking it was somehow indirectly ‘earned’

15 notes · View notes

lunamadrigal · 2 years

Text

I haven’t written anything in ages and I fear if I don’t start again the well will completely dry up so I’m going to ramble off a drabble that has literally no tie to anything and is just for giggles. Based on some summer au banter between three weirdos /pos 💕

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

🌊 🌴 🥥 ⛱️

Road Trip (part one?)

“Phone? Charger?? Oh! Did you pack sunscreen?!”

The insides of my hand-me-down faded, what was once mint green, duffle bag jingled about as a pair of frantic hands dug through the contents. It took me a solid hour to arrange everything neatly inside, rolling clothes carefully and tucking everything in its rightful place which was now a complete minefield.

“Má please. Are you serious right now?!” I clenched my teeth in an attempt to reign in the attitude that I felt bubbling up.

She knows how I feel about this. Everything in its place. Order. Perfect order.

“Do you really think Diego didn’t double and then triple check his list before packing?” Auri’s tone sassed out from behind his smirk where he watched in complete amusement as my má tested the level of my patience.

Just breathe. It’s cool. You can fix it later.

“Very funny, hothead.” I tossed my last buñuelo in Auri’s direction and watched as the sugary ball kissed his cheek at full force and bounced to the floor.

“Jerkface.” His smirk grew two inches as he wiped at the grainy bits covering the side of his face.

“SUNSCREEN!?” A high pitched motherly call broke us out of our teasing.

“Luna, will I actually need sunscreen?? Come on. I don’t think so. And besides –” Auri pushed himself off the kitchen counter he was leaning against, pointing one defiant finger at the side pouch of my duffle bag. The bright yellow bottle stuck out like a sore thumb, silencing my má immediately.

Before she had a chance to find another thing to worry over, two loud honks echoed from outside. Followed by one more generously long honk. Three. Three is lucky. I breathed a sigh of relief at the thought.

My má’s lips pursed together tightly, with her eyes scanning around for something else to say, likely already holding back some tears. “We’ll be fine mami. I’ll text you when we get there. Promise.” I held my pinky out to her, wiggling it in the air.

“And you’ll send me photos.” She interlocked her pinky with mine, giving it a squeeze. “And — and —”

A gust of wind interrupted her, blowing a lock of her wavy hair into her face as Auri opened the front door, bags in hand, giving me a fierce eyeroll from the door. He had repeatedly said last night that ‘Luna will be a hot mess when we leave’ and he bet she wouldn’t hold off on the waterworks before we made it out the house. He wasn’t wrong but I was never going to admit that to him.

“GET IN LOSERS!” Ignacio’s famous baritone voice boomed from the cherry red VW bus. Its recent fresh coat of paint reflected the bright summer rays brilliantly back at us, matching the fiery grin he wore as he hung out the open passenger window.

“WE RIDE AT DAWN BOYS!” He added with both fists raised in the air, rocking the bus like a gentle ocean wave.

“It’s NOON! FOOL!” I chuckled watching Javier slink down into his seat in the back of the bus as he was correcting him, regardless of the obvious quote Nacio had been making.

“Oh whatever bro, chill. You gonna be like this the whole ride to the resort?” It wasn’t much of a question the way Ignacio snapped back at Javi.

Sliding the side door open and tossing our bags into the very end of the bus I crawled in, giving Auri a tug before falling the rest of the way inside. The bus was crammed full of every item imaginable, giving The Little Mermaid and her whosits and whatsits a run for her money.

“Are those flippers?” Auri whispered into my ear, pressed up against my arm tightly. Our two bodies packed like sardines. “And a uh—-”

“Metal detector?” I finished, staring at the odd long object poking through the pile of bags. Undoubtedly one of Javi’s necessities.

“See…”, nudging his side gently, “... you can never be too prepared.”

Auri’s eyelashes grazed his lids, rolling his eyes so far back I’m sure he saw the inside of his head as he did it. “Course you would say that.” He leaned in and brushed his nose over mine ever so faintly but sending his cheeks a shade usually reserved for his firefly amber flames.

“None of that cute crap on summer vacation my dudes! This ain’t your honeymoon.”

Both of our faces burned ten times brighter hearing Ignacio’s tease. He was musing over his own joke, arms crossed over the passengerside’s headrest as he ducked to fit between the small space.

Two hotheads in one pintsized bus for five hours… What could go wrong? I smiled to myself looking back from Nacio to Auri. Their eyes narrowed on each other in what would surely turn into a heated battle of snarky remarks if someone doesn’t intervene.

“Tunes?” The voice of an angel perked up from the driver’s seat, long dark hair cascading over her shoulder, sporting the most retro pink pair of sunglasses I’d ever seen.

Praise the sweet angelic God’s for Angelina. Her soft kind eyes met mine, thanking her silently.

“Tunes.” I repeated cheerfully, happy for the distraction.

“TUNESSSSSSSS!” Four ecstatic voices harmonized together inside our red shoebox of a bus.

Only one person’s voice was missing among our crews and all eye’s fell on the sour face, poking his golden glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“God. I don’t know these people.” Javi huffed at us with a tiny smile creeping at the corners of his lips.

My smile felt unstoppable as the thought sparked in my mind.

‘Journal, Day 1 Summer Vaca

This is gonna be epic.’

Art found here

Angelina, Javier & Ignacio belong to @cheesy-cryptid & @artsynellyyy

Aureliano belongs to @daliceus

Diego is my oc bebé

Angelina's summer mixtape

#heat waves and bebés #summer sun and sass #angelina our hero #five teens what could go wrong #i did not spell check this #it's just fun drabble #if you have a prompt or suggestion send it my way #might incorporate it if i continue this #encanto oc #aureliano au #hc that ignacio says dude in the summer au

19 notes · View notes

oakfern · 2 years

Text

i always forget how far north europe is.... sometimes i remember that pittsburgh is parallel with like, sardinia and turkey and my brain self destructs a bit

#e #we're also parallel with beijing! but i can comprehend that one a little bit better #this was prompted by reading about the european heat wave

2 notes · View notes

yuutx · 1 month

Text

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 ! (𝒢𝐸𝒯𝒪 𝒮𝒰𝒢𝒰𝑅𝒰)

geto suguru x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ size kink ﾉ huge size difference ﾉ orgasm denial ﾉ ddlg dynamics ﾉ creampie ﾉ passing out / unconsciousness ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ not proofread ! ૮꒰◌´ତ `◌ ꒱ྀིა‎

i dnt know what exactly happened but i must confess that 2day i caught feelings for sugu . . out of the blu . . 4 no reason . . i am hopelessly in love with the geto sugubaby. shbdhn he makes me feel fuzzy, okay ? ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

You choked on a hiccup, dewy eyes peering up at him, the tears clinging to your lashes, a few fat drops sliding down your cheeks. Your quivering lips parted to speak, but the words stuck in your throat. It was difficult to focus on anything but the thick, pulsating cock stuffed inside of you. Geto smiled down at you, the expression almost tender, a stark contrast to the lewd way his hips rocked against yours. "Come on, pretty, don't keep quiet." He said, his voice soft and reassuring. "Talk to daddy, tell him what you're feeling." He prompted, his cock throbbing deep inside of you, stretching you open. You let out a pitiful sob, the sound followed by a breathless whine. "I-I'm.. full." You finally managed to choke out, the word sounding foreign, as if it had slipped off your tongue without permission. "Full?" Geto questioned, his brow arching slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

He shifted, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, your body jolting at the sensation. You felt dizzy, drunk off the feeling of his thick shaft spreading you open, the heat from his body emitting through his skin, warming you up. Your limbs trembled, your legs spread wide around his hips, his arms encasing you as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your skin. "You're not full, baby, you're barely halfway." He chuckled, his lips brushing against your ear. You whimpered, a fresh wave of tears springing to your eyes, a shaky breath escaping you. "I'm n-not…I can't." You whispered, your voice trembling.

Geto shushed you, his fingers digging into your skin, the pressure painful, but somehow soothing. "Of course you can." He murmured, his tone gentle. He kissed the corner of your mouth, his tongue darting out to lap up the saltiness from your tears. You shivered, your hands clutching at the blankets beneath you, trying desperately to steady yourself, but it was a futile effort. You felt like a ragdoll, boneless and pliant beneath his strong frame, his massive cock buried inside of you.

"D-daddy.." You whispered, unable to keep the word from tumbling out of your mouth, your head spinning. You were sure you were going to pass out. Your entire body was tingling, every nerve ending alight, a fire blazing in the pit of your belly, making you feel feverish. "I know, I know. It's so big, isn't it?" You nodded, the movement slow and clumsy, your heart hammering against your ribcage. "You're taking it so well, my sweet girl." Geto cooed, his hips snapping forward, forcing his cock deeper into your cunt.

You cried out, your back arching off the bed, the pain mixing with the pleasure, making you feel delirious with ecstasy. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging against the entrance to your womb, the pressure making you squirm.

"So tight." Geto hummed, his thrusts becoming more insistent, his hands sliding up to grip your hips, holding you still. "Can't believe you can even fit this much of me in here. Daddy's proud, princess.." He chuckled, the sound sending a chill down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat, a small sob bubbling out of you, more tears spilling down your face. It felt like you were drowning, the sensations overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you up, stuffing you so full, so complete, was too much for you to bear. Your entire world was reduced to the way his cock stretched you open, the way his girthy length dragged against your slick inner walls, the way his happy trail brushed against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure dancing through your body.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy.." You babbled, your vision blurring, the sound of his voice fading away. You felt as if you were floating, drifting on a cloud of bliss, every inch of your skin tingling.

Geto hummed, his voice a distant murmur, the words washing over you. You felt weightless, a sense of peace and contentment washing over you, a wave of euphoria crashing over you, drowning you in its intensity.

"I c-can t-take it, I can take it, d-daddy.." You slurred, the words heavy on your tongue, your limbs turning to lead, your eyelids fluttering closed. "Course you can." Geto crooned, his hips rolling against yours, his cock pumping into you, a low moan spilling from his lips. "You're my good girl, aren't you? You were made for this, weren't you? Made for my cock?" And with a final thrust, his length embedded in you completely, your little cunt taking every last inch of him.

You couldn't tell if the darkness behind your eyelids was the result of unconsciousness, or if you were simply too dazed to open them. A dull ache radiated from your hips, your muscles protesting the position. But the pain was secondary, drowned out by the waves of ecstasy that rolled through you, making your limbs go slack.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your heart thudding loudly in your ears. You were vaguely aware of a wet, sticky warmth dripping down your thighs, a thick, heady scent filling the air. Geto's scent. His seed. The thought sent a shiver through you, a tiny whine escaping your lips.

"Daddy.." You whispered, reaching a hand out, blindly searching for him. You felt a large, warm hand wrap around yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here, pretty. I'm right here." Geto murmured, the smile in his tone audible. You relaxed at the sound of his voice, letting out a contented sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter open, blinking the tears away, finally managing to focus on his face.

He was hovering above you, a lazy grin spread across his features. "Hey there, beautiful." He purred, his free hand reaching up to caress your cheek, wiping away the streaks of wetness. You stared up at him, unable to formulate a response, the words stuck in your throat. His expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your bottom lip. "My good girl. Such a sweet thing. Taking my cock so well. Such a good, perfect girl." He cooed, his tone almost reverent. You let out a weak, breathy giggle, the praise causing petals to bloom in your chest, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. Your gaze flickered to his face, drinking in his features, a small, shy smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He smiled back, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead, the gesture sending a jolt through you. You could feel the weight of him bearing down on you, his thick cock still buried inside of you, plugging up your little hole.

You moaned with need, the sound coming out as a breathless plea, your pussy clenching around him, the sensation eliciting a low growl from him. You gasped, arching up, seeking more contact, more friction. He smirked, a devilish glint in his dark eyes, his hips deciding a shallow roll, the tip of his cock brushing against the entrance to your womb. You mewled, bucking against him, grinding against his pelvis, desperate for release. He laughed, the sound rich and deep, the sound reverberating in your core. You whined in response, the noise catching in your throat, the sound turning into a keening cry as the pace of his thrusts picked up, his cock slamming into you, the force of the action causing your head to spin.

You writhed beneath him, your body trembling, a dull ache pulsing through your sore muscles. You could feel his gaze on you, hot and heavy, watching as you came apart, arousal juicing your folds, soaking the bed sheets. "You're such a messy little thing, aren't you?" He hummed, his voice laced with amusement, a hint of pride creeping into his tone. "All wet and dripping. Just for me." He purred, his cock pulsating, twitching inside of you, his fingers digging into your waist, his grip bruising. You could feel yourself unraveling, the coil in the pit of your belly threatening to snap, the pleasure building inside of you, the tension mounting. Your head was swimming, a rush of euphoria flooding your system, the heat pooling in your abdomen. "N-neeed- hic need t-to cum." Your voice cracked, broken words spilling from your mouth, his length driving you to the brink.

"Not yet, pretty. Not until I say so." He growled, his tone laced with a dangerous edge, his thrusts becoming rougher, more urgent. "Gotta be patient, yeah princess? Gotta wait for daddy to fill you up." He hissed, his voice taking on a strained note, his pace faltering, his movements stuttering. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving, beads of sweat dripping down his brow, his jaw clenching. You could feel his cock pulsating, a tell-tale sign that he was close.

You squirmed, your hands grasping at his biceps, your nails digging into his skin, trying to anchor yourself. He groaned, his eyes squeezing shut, his grip on you tightening. "Fuck.. f-fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum in that pretty pussy of yours.. gonna make a mess of that tight cunt." He grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic, his hips snapping against yours, a desperate, primal hunger taking over.

His cock slammed into you, his tip jabbing against the entrance to your cervix, and finally, finally erupting that sticky, creamy goodness into your aching womb. His cum shot into you in thick, powerful ropes, painting the inside of your cunt, filling you up to the brim, coating your inner walls. You squealed, your body convulsing, screaming for permission, and when he gave you that last, guttural command, you came undone.

Your body went rigid, a choked cry spilling from your lips, your pussy clenching around his cock, milking him, the pressure unbearable. You felt as if your soul had left your body, the pleasure wracking through you, your entire body shaking, your mind going blank. Geto shuddered, his cock twitching inside of you, emptying himself deep into your core. You could feel his hot cum oozing out of you, the sticky fluid dripping down your thighs, a warm, syrupy sensation trickling between your legs. You gasped for air, your vision blurring, colors bursting before your eyes, fireworks going off in your skull.

"S' much c-cum..daddy.." You whined, the words catching in your throat, your voice trembling. Geto smirked, a low rumble of a laugh emanating from him, his gaze roaming over you, taking in the sight of your ruined body, your swollen, tender lips, the smear of mascara beneath your eyes. He smiled down at you, the expression a mix of adoration and smug satisfaction, his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheek, pads of his fingers grazing over your jaw. "Mhm.. so much, baby. I'm sorry. I can't help myself, you know that. So sweet, so innocent. I just can't control myself when I'm around you.." He purred, the words dripping with honey, his voice smooth and silky, sending shivers down your spine. "You make me want to do bad things. Naughty, nasty things." his dark eyes met yours, a wicked gleam flashing in them, the pupils dilated, nearly engulfing the irises.

"Like what, daddy?" You breathed, the words sounding distant, faraway. Geto smiled, his teeth glinting in the moonlight, the sight of him baring his fangs at you, a predator poised to strike, making your heart stutter. "..Why don't i show you?"

7K notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 6 months

Text

Light on - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: You ask Simon to babysit for you last minute. For @that-fangirl-1106 and three anons

“Thank you so, so much. I owe you.”

Simon stops short at your door, brows raising in surprise. He expected to see you in your ‘house clothes’ as you call them, leggings, or an old pair of jeans with a t shirt. Instead, you’re wearing a skirt, a short skirt, swell of your breasts just visible inside the V of your shirt, and his stomach twists, confusion thrumming in his veins. What is this? Where are you going? When you called and asked him to help you watch Emma for a bit, he just assumed it was so you could run some errands or something, take some time for yourself. Not for… whatever this is.

You’ve got Emmaline on your hip, waist curved to accommodate her, and she’s babbling at you with a happy smile.

“Are you sure it’s not an inconvenience? My sitter bailed last minute.” The door lock clicks into place behind him, and he holds his tongue, stopping the flow of one hundred questions, biting down on the urge to pull you into his chest and tell you- you’re not actually going anywhere.

Would you agree? Would you look up at him with that sweet, beautiful face, and tell him that you won’t? That you’ll stay here, with him, instead. Where you belong.

“Simon?” Shit.

“It’s fine. I’m happy to help.” Emma coos, looking up at him, little legs wriggling in her onesie and his heart thumps a little harder, the green poison of jealously cooling just slightly when he realizes it doesn’t matter where you’re going. You’ll be coming home to him, and Emmaline, at the end of your night.

Still. He has to ask. He has to know.

“Where are you going?” You hand the baby to him, clucking softly, rubbing your fingers through her wispy crop of curls.

“Out with this guy I met!” You’re excited, practically beaming, and your fingers find the hem of your shirt, anxiously plucking at it. “It’s been a while since like-“ you stop yourself, embarrassment heating your face, and you clear your throat. “No one’s asked me on a date in a while. Single moms aren’t really… a hot commodity.” His stomach clenches at the idea of another man thinking you’re a hot anything, let alone even looking in your direction.

“Where are you going? Who is he?”

“To the little Thai spot on seventh.” You give him an odd look. “And he’s a guy I met at the library.”

“The library?”

“Yeah, during story time.” You’re pulling a jacket on, and he clenches his jaw so tight he could chew through concrete. “Alright, baby, love you.” You step into his orbit, dab of perfume still wet on your neck, heat pressing into his side when you bend to kiss Emma on her forehead. Your hand brushes his against her back, something clouding your gaze when you look up into his face, something hopeful and honeyed sweet, with just a glimpse of longing, enough that blood roars in his ears.

He should ask you to stay, tell you he’ll take you instead. Or take you somewhere better, take you anywhere you want to go.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you slip out the front door, blowing the baby in his arms one last kiss goodnight with a wave of your palm.

An hour later, a key scrapes against the metal of the lock. He’s got Emmaline and her favorite stuffed giraffe in his arms, walking circles in the kitchen, bouncing her lightly to try to soothe her pre bedtime tears, a normal routine he’s seen you do more than once.

You slip through the door with a whispered apology, tired eyes rimmed in red.

“Hey.” You reach for Emma, giving her a big smile and holding her to your chest, little kisses from your lips dotting her head, her cheeks. Your eyes slip closed, tension sagging from your shoulders, and he frowns,

“What happened?”

“Nothing. He uh, didn’t show.” Oh, sweetheart. You shrug, brushing it off. “But that’s okay, isn’t it?” you coo at Emma, smoothing a hand up and down her back. “Yeah, that’s okay. Mum doesn’t need anyone but you, huh Emmaline?” You say something about putting her to bed, and he barely hears you, too busy thinking about finding the piece of shit that decided to stand you up and breaking every bone in his body.

You reappear once you’ve got her down, and he still hasn’t made himself scarce, lingering in your kitchen, hands in his pockets. He feels out of place, heart panging at the dejected look at your face.

“Fuck that guy.” He grunts, and you crack a smile, tucking your arms around yourself. “He’s an idiot.”

“Yeah.” You’re sullen, rejected, and it makes his blood boil, rage coursing through him knowing that someone made you feel less than the wonder you are. “Thanks for… I guess hanging out with her for a little while, at least. It was really nice of you.”

“Anytime.” The kitchen is silent for a moment, reflecting your somber mood, and just as he’s about to tell you how stupid that guy is, how much of fool he is to not see what he missed out on, how much he didn’t deserve a single second of your time, you sigh out a whispered confession.

“I guess it was pretty stupid.”

“What was stupid, sweetheart?”

“Going on a date when I have a baby at home. Thinking someone would even want a single mom with a baby at home.” You roll your eyes. “You know, as soon I got out the door, I was thinking about coming back? Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Wishing I was hanging out with my own daughter, and you… instead of going on a date.” His heart latches onto your words, hoarding them close, trying to memorize them so he can recall every syllable when he closes his eyes tonight.

“That’s not stupid.” He wants to comfort you, promise you that it’s the farthest thing from stupid.

“Maybe. Either way doesn’t matter, right? I got stood up.” You wince.

“Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve a minute of your time.” Your lips part, a little stunned by the steadfast vow, before splitting into a delicate smile, and your head ducks.

“Thanks, Simon.”

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader

2K notes · View notes

mingtinys · 1 month

Text

" i will never be too mad to take care of you "

pairing : yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language , descriptions of a wound , blood

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : last minute i actually decided to flip jeonghan's and joshua's prompt , we'll see if i regret it

Your eyes follow Jeonghan carefully, tracking his movements throughout the kitchen. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn't, he simply continues to mull about his business. Completely ignoring your presence and the tension that hangs heavily in the air as a result of your recent argument.

It wasn't the biggest fight you've ever had, but it was surely up there. In the heat of it, you said some things you didn't mean, things that seemed to hit Jeonghan in just the right spot to set him off. You felt bad at first. The moment tears began to gather in his eyes and his face dropped you felt the urge to apologize. But then he opened his mouth and shot some choice words back at you in a way that hit just as hard. All thoughts of talking it out ceased then and there, and so ensued the ongoing silence between you two.

Even just his lingering presence as you try to prepare dinner has you on edge. So much so, that you focus all your attention on what he's doing and what he could be thinking rather than the onion you're chopping up. With your mind split, it only takes a few seconds before you feel the knife slice into your hand. It clatters to the ground as you cry out and cradle your injured hand.

"Ah– shit!"

Jeonghan is at your side in half a second, maybe less. Reaching out to take hold of your hand so he can examine it. "What happened?" His voice is urgent, but his grip is gentle as he hovers over the bleeding wound.

"Ow– I'm fine, it's fine—"

"No, you're not. Just take a seat, I'll be back in a second." He's gone and back in under a minute, the first aid kit from the upstairs bathroom tucked under his arm. You sit in the nearest chair and Jeonghan kneels in front, delicately taking your hand into his palm.

It stays silent as he cleans around the cut and begins to tenderly wrap the fluffy white gauze around your hand. "It looks pretty deep. I think it'd be best if we go to the emergency room and have it looked at, I can drive."

"Why?" The word slips out before you can stop it.

Jeonghan gives you a funny look. "Um, because you might need stitches?"

"No. I meant why do you care?" Tears brim at your lashes and you can feel the tidal wave of pent-up emotions ready to crash down. "I said some really awful things. You should be mad right now, not helping me—"

"Woah woah woah, hey," He soothes. His palm softly cups your face while the other rests on your knee, squeezing it. "I will never be too mad to take care of you." The sincerity in his sparkling gaze never falters.

"I'm really sorry, Jeonghan. I promise I didn't mean what I said."

"I know," he smiles, rising to his feet to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. "I'm sorry as well. We can talk about it once you're better."

1K notes · View notes

spencersssockss · 4 months

Text

Separation anxiety.

Summery: your out with the girls when Spencer calls, he realizes he can’t sleep without you so you go home and the two of you cuddle until you fall asleep.

Warnings: fluff, alcohol, separation anxiety and I think that’s all!

Word count: 600

You were out with the girls, celebrating for no reason but to simply have fun. You were all at your last stop, a bar, and It was safe to say Emily was plastered.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend of six months lay in your shared bed wide awake. He couldn’t sleep, he needed you to be next to him.

He knew that you wouldn’t be any longer but he decided to call to check on you.

Your phone rang loudly prompting you to tell the girls you’d be outside for a second so you could answer it, they simply nodded and you headed out before clicking the answer button.

“Hey I’m just checking on you, how are you doing?” Spencer asked the grogginess heavy in his voice.

“I’m good, why are you still awake though?” “It’s past midnight,” you spoke softly through the phone.

“I can’t sleep and I miss you so I figured I would just wait until you got home,” he added and you could hear him shuffle beneath the blanket.

“Oh, Spence, I’ll be home in ten, let me go talk to the girls,” you say making Spencer’s heart swell.

“No, you don’t have to, I want you to have fun,” he mumbled into the phone making you sigh.

“Spencer, Emily is wasted and I’m not going to let you be a zombie in the morning,” you say before opening the door and going back in.

“Fine, I love you,” Spencer said smiling softly on the other end of the phone.

“I love you too,” you spoke before smiling and hanging up.

Spencer was flattered that you would drop everything like that just so he could sleep. It meant so much to him, he thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and the fact you fell for him made him love you even more.

“Hey guys I’m going to head home, does anyone want me to drop them off home?” You ask the girls.

“Nope, we’re good thanks though, have fun with boy genius,” Emily replied winking making everyone erupt in laughter.

“Alright, I’ll see you girls tomorrow!” You say smiling and waving before walking back outside to your car. You unlocked it and sat down, started it, and then sat for a minute to allow the heater to warm up.

You let out a content sigh once you could feel the heat being blown out and started driving home. You arrived about five minutes later put the car in park and went inside. It was silent as you walked upstairs to your bedroom.

Spencer sat up in bed reading a book patiently a smile covering his face once he saw you were home.

“Your home,” he exclaimed smiling softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, I’m going to change into my pajamas and then we can get some shut-eye,” you spoke smiling and grabbing a nightgown from your closet.

You changed quickly and Spencer put his book down waiting for you to crawl in beside him.

After finishing you did just that, you crawled into bed beside him and he wrapped his arms around you gently while tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

“Mmm,” he groaned softly finally feeling at ease with you in his arms.

“Get some sleep pretty boy,” you spoke feeling him smile against your neck at the nickname.

“Will do, pretty girl,” he whispered back as the two of you slowly drifted off to sleep in eachothers arms.

in.

#criminal minds x reader #spencerreidssockss #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid

2K notes · View notes

evielmostdefinitely · 5 months

Note

hiiii could you please write something about aftercare with young snow? like how in jealous girl it says he babied her afterwards, but a whole fic about it? i just wanna see how sweet a cruel man like snow can be 🤭

tip of my fingers |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, aftercare with snow.

contains: fluff. mentions of dom/sub themes. possessive snow.

Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, chest still rising and falling with every ragged breath from his post orgasm. He always got flushed like this after a night of particularly rough sex.

“‘M going to the shower, my love.” Corio muttered, curls matted to his forehead, muggy and sweaty. His hand patted the top of your thigh, gentler than before, your skin still raw and sensitive.

You didn’t move, didn’t utter a word, really didn’t make a sound besides a pathetic whine. Corio’s head snapped around, turning to you in an instant. His eyes narrowed carefully, scanning over you like he was assessing his latest plans. “Are you alright?”

Your glazed eyes staring off, face turned, smushed into the mattress, a pool of your own drool beneath you. Normally he’d mock you, tease you for being so messy. “My messy girl, look at you.” He’d give you a grin that felt more like a sneer.

Not this time.

Coriolanus called your name, softly but firmly, crouching in front of you. His hand rubbed over your clammy forehead, heated cheeks still flushed from your climax. “Look at me, darling.” Corio muttered, fingers tracing over your cheek down the slope of your neck. You shuddered but didn’t turn to him, still lost in your own haze. “Can you hear me?”

Your own mind was miles away from that very bedroom, lost under roaring waves and a hazy fog that Corio always got you in. Usually you snapped back quicker, a few loving kisses, the shock of a cold rag cleaning you up. Other times, it was more difficult.

Coriolanus moved to the bathroom, swallowing down the venomous bark of spewing orders that threatened to fall from his lips. He didn’t like this feeling, when he was out of control, especially with you. When something was wrong and he didn’t know an immediate fix. The rational side of himself told him to stay calm, do what he knew to before spiraling into a panic.

Corio tried to swallow down his beating heart, wringing the cold water out of the cloth, before walking back into the bedroom. The air was still thick and hot, sticky with the lingering musk of sex. He moved beside you, wordlessly, smoothing the cloth over your forehead.

The icy feeling shocked your system, leaving your shuddering, mind lurching back, vision clearing. Corio was before you, brows pinched with a concerned frown, studying you carefully. Your eyes met his, blinking helplessly before him. He swallowed a groan at how it made his cock lurch, seeing you so weak and needy.

“My love,” Corio’s hand slid down your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. “Are you alright?”

You blinked, moving into his touch, nearly instinctively. “You’re alright?” Corio pressed, head tilting in a much softer way to look at you. “Yes?”

You nodded, pushing off the mattress, groaning at the uncomfortable stretch of sore skin on your ass and thighs. Coriolanus had used his belt, your favorite, tonight.

“Be careful.” Corio clicked, hands wrapping around your biceps, much softer now than before. “You’re going to be sore, darling girl. Careful.” His tone softer now, hushed mumblings as he helped you up.

You winced when your raw skin brushed the silk of the sheets, the ghosting of a whimper on your lips. Corio shushed you gently, sitting next to you, pulling you into his lap. His hand brushing down your hair, your skin sticky on his own.

“How are you feeling?” Coriolanus muttered, lips brushing against your scalp, breathing in the sweaty scent mixed with your perfume from before.

“‘M alright.” You muttered, your cheek against his pec. You could hear his heart rate, how it fluttered and stilled to a steady rhythm. How it would erupt in an excited crescendo when you finally spoke, making your veins fill with ooey gooey rushes of adoration. For all of Coriolanus’ cruelties, his harshness- he did love you. It was evident in moments like these.

“Do you need the healing ointment? I can get it from the servant’s quarters-”

“-I’ll be alright, Corio.” You hummed, eyes pulling heavily. The exhaustion washes over you in thick waves. “I just want you to hold me, please.” Your eyes lifted, rounding sweetly.

He’d be a fool not to, Coriolanus decided, pulling you closer into his chest. He liked you like this, pliant and at his every whim, completely reliant on him.

Corio moved to the bath after, quieting your whines of protest with a small tut, coaxing kisses to your temples, testing the bath water with great show while you sat on the ledge.

You stayed pressed to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline, like you might float away or dissolve if he let go. Corio let you, ego swelling off the dependency.

“Did I go too hard?” Corio hummed, a sudsy hand rubbing down your spine. The bath filled with the tonic fresh from District Eleven, dried orange peels, lavender, and rose. Coriolanus brought it to you, after his last visit to the district. You had swooned over it, smothering him sillily in kisses that made him blush.

“No,” You shook your head, inhaling the scent that was entirely his. “I think it was the teasing and the spanking, at the same time. I just- I wasn’t ready for it.” You knew what he wanted to hear. Coriolanus had always been adamant after your rough play that you debrief him. It felt very professional, which is why you were reluctant, but that type of blunt, straight forward reporting is what Corio responded best to.

Corio nodded, a low hum vibrating out of his chest, tickling your ear. “I see. I won’t do it as much next time.” He wouldn’t apologize, but you could hear it in his unspoken words.

“Just not as much at the same time.” You whispered sheepishly, as if he didn’t know every part of you.

Coriolanus nodded, a wet hand rubbing the base of your neck, scratching your scalp gently. He knew you loved it, knew it would have your head tipping back into his touch so he could kiss you.

You let him wash you, dry you off- only whimpering when the towel brushes over your ignited skin. He shushed you, a silent apology, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. He put the ointment on anyway, muttering flippantly about how “you had obligations tomorrow, and didn’t need to be squirming the whole time”. You knew it was because it made him feel better.

Corio dressed you in your nightgown, slipping the powdery blue, soft fabric over your skin, trailing kisses from the back of your shoulder to your ear.

Underneath the silk of the sheets, you slept in his arms, face to face, whispering in the darkness of the room. It always brought out the vulnerability of Coriolanus in these moments, holding you, feeling you, smelling you- he’d bear his soul to you.

“I’m unsure about the games.” Corio muttered, arms tightening around you.

“Unsure in what way, honey?” You hummed, finger raking through his curls, behind his ear- his favorite spot.

“Unsure that they’ll be as successful as they need to be.” Corio hummed, and even through the dark you could see the concern on his features. “Unsure that people will watch.”

You paused for a moment. You decided not to tell him how you truly felt, not then, anyways. Selfishly, you didn’t want to ruin the intimacy, the softness of the moment. “I’m sure they’ll be everything you hope for them to be.” You hummed, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “Everything always does.”

Your words, as forced as they were, brought comfort to Coriolanus. His head falling back into your hair, pressing a kiss to your scalp. Fingertips brushing skin, hushed words, and soft kisses all exchanged under the twilight of the night. Tomorrow, you’d be prim and proper. You’d stand beside Corio respectfully, hide your grimace at the mention of the upcoming reaping, refrain from rolling your eyes at the suck ups that flocked to Coriolanus in a giddy, exaggerated manner. You two would be the picture of perfection that Panem wanted you to be. For now, you’d be content to lay in each other's arms, being yourself instead.

3K notes · View notes

skzdarlings · 3 months

Note

Chan with ❛ that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me. ❜

summary: your husband is a university professor. when you sit in on one of his lectures, it gives both of you an idea...

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: husband!chan, kinky professor/student roleplay, though reader is his wife and not actually a student. dom!chan, sub!reader, degrading language (stupid, dumb, slut). corruption kink, power dynamics kink. explicit sexual content. word count: 2380 words.

part of the valentine's day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

Chan is giving a lecture when you reach the university. You kill some time and grab a coffee, ambling around campus and idling in corridors until your wandering leads you to his hall. The main doors are propped open, likely for air circulation with the spring heat, and you smile at his voice spilling into the hallway.

It is a big lecture hall. He is teaching a beginner level so the class is substantially large, a couple hundred freshman packed inside. No one will notice an extra presence. There are a few empty seats scattered across the back row so you slip inside and quietly take one.

You like seeing Chan in his element. Your husband is something of a chameleon, spending his down time in hoodies and baseball caps, listening to music and giggling at his own goofy jokes. You almost forget his professional side, his prestigious and academic character. He loves his research and his work and his students and it shows in every remark and gesticulation.

You adore him. His passion and intelligence never cease to amaze you.

Though right now your loving attention strays to his appearance. You must admit: your husband is a hottie. You suspect the tittering co-eds in the first few rows are not as interested in statistical analysis as their rapt attention might suggest.

Professor Bang Chan stands at the front of the hall, dressed down to his shirtsleeves. His suit jacket has been tossed over the desk. His pants are pressed, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but his neat black hair is just this side of dishevelled, like he has been running his fingers through it.

You slouch in your seat and smile a cheesy smile as you watch him work.

He looks around the hall as he lectures, attentive to every student. In his perusal, his eyes skim the back row. They stop on you.

“And that’s why we, uh, ah…” He stumbles so noticeably that a few heads turn to see what caught his eye. He laughs and waves, drawing their attention again. “Sorry, sorry, as I was saying…”

Your smile only widens. There is a little flutter in your heart as your husband looks at you with a glimmer in his eye. You rest your head on your fist and watch the rest of the lecture without any interruption.

You stay seated when it ends and the students file out. Chan lingers by his desk to sort his papers. You just admire him for a moment, then you make your way down the aisle. He lifts his head, smiling at you.

“Hey, stranger,” he says, shrugging on his jacket. “You’re early.”

“Yeah, I thought traffic would be worse.”

“Hungry?”

“Definitely, Professor,” you say. Your original plans were dinner, but you lift an eyebrow while smirking, suggesting a different kind of hunger entirely.

It makes him laugh, a nervous sort of laugh. You are charmed by the tips of his ears turning red, a testament to your ability to fluster your man well into your marriage.

“What’s wrong, Professor?” you ask, reaching up to touch his face. “Aren’t you hungry too?”

He stares back at you for a moment. His gaze is resolute despite his faint blush. You cannot help your delight.

“Ooh,” you say. “Do you like it when I call you Professor, Professor?”

He finally takes your hand and lowers it.

“I’m a professional,” is what he says, which is definitely not an answer to the question you asked. He kisses your cheek before you can protest his reply, then he winks and grabs his bag. “Come on,” he says, “I just have to put some stuff in my office. Then we’ll go grab dinner.”

You suspend your teasing for the time being, talking about your day as you cross campus in the sunshine. You take the stairs up to the office floor, winding around the labyrinthine assembly of empty offices. It is quite late in the afternoon, plenty of people seemingly packed up and gone for the day.

He unlocks his office and lets you both in. While he goes to his desk to sort his stuff, you close and lock the door. He does not notice your deliberate movements, still talking about mundane nothings. You do love your endless conversations, whether casual or important, but right now you are less preoccupied with Channie than Professor Chan. There is something about seeing your husband like this, smart, competent, confident, and so in charge of his space.

“Baby girl?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow at your slow, slinky approach. “What’s up?”

You circle the desk and lay a hand on his chest, smoothing your palm down his lapel. You swear his eyes somehow darken, narrowing in focus, his whole expression coloured differently than before.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I know you’re married, Professor,” you say, blinking oh-so innocently at him. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… it’s just that I… I need…”

He lets you nudge him back onto the desk chair behind him. He gazes up as you lean over him.

“Baby,” he says, warningly, but does not move or push your hands away.

“We’re all alone, Professor,” you say. “The door is locked. No one will ever find out.”

“Ah. Is that right?” he asks, looking like he is on the verge of giggles. He sighs instead, dropping his chin and shaking his head, playfully disappointed. With another breath, he lifts his head, and your sweet husband dons a more predatory air.

He does not even have to say anything, does not even have to touch you. He just has to look at you with all that desire in his eyes, turning your insides molten. Every dirty thought is plain in how he checks you out.

“I saw you looking at me in class today,” you say, breathless already. “Did you think I looked pretty, Professor?”

“I think,” he says, “I was impressed you were sitting there, actually listening for once.”

You open your mouth to retort, but he touches a shushing finger to your lips. He shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. “Tell me what you want before I throw you out of my office.” He cups your jaw, his gaze so clearly centred on your lips.

“Oh, please, don’t do that,” you say. “I need you, Professor. I mean, I need your help.”

“I think you’re beyond help, baby girl,” he says. He momentarily breaks character to glance at the wall, then he looks at you with a quirked brow. “We are at my work, maybe we should—”

“I know you,” you reply.

Because you do. You and your husband are no strangers to roleplay or kinky fun, your desires and boundaries and safewords known. Your backside is still tender from a good spanking the night before, just enough to leave you squirming today. You were pent-up before you even saw Professor Chan administering his lecture. But now that you have, now that you are here, you cannot let it go. And given the way he is looking at you, he feels the same way.

“You’ve been hard since I called you Professor in the lecture hall,” you say.

“Since I saw you sitting in my classroom, actually,” he corrects. “I could fill in the rest with my own imagination. Just… looking at you…” He takes another breath and looks you over. His gaze is heady. “God, you just get me going every time, you know that?”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say with another smirk. Then you pout, batting your eyelashes, as you sink to your knees in front of him. “Please, Professor,” you say. “I’m begging you. I need a good grade or else. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything,” he says. “That’s, ah… that’s a bold statement. Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I am,” you say. You clasp your hands. “Anything at all.”

“You know, a man who is not as nice me could do bad things to you, baby. A pretty girl like you. It’s like you want someone to take advantage of you, yeah?” He cups your jaw and tilts your face up, looking at your mouth thoughtfully, smiling as he circles his thumb over your lips. “They could be really mean to you,” he says. “Make you do things you don’t like. Maybe even hurt you, baby.”

“But you wouldn’t do those things,” you say with a watery sniffle. “You’re a good professor. I can trust you.”

“Of course you can,” he says. With his thumb, he tugs your bottom lip down. It flips back up with a bounce. “I’ll help you then, if you do what I say.”

“Oh yes, of course, Professor, anything,” you say. You start to stand when he puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Naw, naw,” he says. “You stay there for me.”

“On my knees?” You blink up at him. “What for?”

“Tsk. Baby. You know what for.” He pats your head like he would an especially dumb puppy. “You’re just a pretty face,” he says, “but you’re not that stupid. You know what you’re good for at least, don’t you?”

He cups your chin. Before you can reply, his thumb is forcing its way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You wrap your lips around it, staring up at him while sucking diligently.

“That’s it,” he says, and slides free with a wet little pop. “Good job. See?” He speaks with saccharine sweetness, completely condescending as he pats your cheek. “You are good at something.” He unbuttons your shirt with deft swiftness, your breasts already heaving in your low-cut bra when he pushes the material off your shoulders. He laughs to himself as he says, “It’s just the only thing you’re good at is being a dumb slut, but that’s okay, yeah?”

“I… I guess…”

“Shh, it’s okay.” He covers you whole mouth with his hand, tugging you close while he undoes his belt with the other. “You don’t need to talk,” he says. “No one needs to hear what you think. Open your mouth for me. That’s a good girl. Come on. You can take it.”

With a shuffle, he gets his pants open and partially down, enough to get himself out. He is already rock hard as he guides you forward, sliding into your waiting mouth. He grunts with deep, obvious pleasure.

He lets you take over, sitting back while you suck his cock with expert knowledge of exactly what he likes, when to take him deep, when to lick and suck and swallow. You stop for a breath and his cock smacks your cheek. Then suddenly he is standing and taking you with him, wasting no time bending you over his desk.

“Professor!” you say, pushing your ass out with your theatrically scandalized cry. “Oh no, sir, I’ve never done this before, please, ahh—”

He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through all the wet arousal there. He slides two fingers into you easily, with no resistance at all. He leans down and laughs against the nape of your neck.

“I find that hard to believe,” he says, fucking you steadily with his hand. “I think I’m not the only professor you’ve done this for, am I, baby?”

“Ohh,” is all you manage, out of character and genuinely moaning as he works you towards a quick orgasm. “Channie, you’re gonna make me come,” you warn, wriggling.

Your moans turn to pathetic little whimpers when he wraps a strong arm around you, locking you in place as he lines up behind you.

“What’s that?” he asks, holding you tight. It stops you from writhing while he pushes his wet dick inside you, inch by slow inch. “I’m not Channie, am I?” he says. “What do you call me? Huh? Dumb little girl.” He swats your ass and you yelp, clenching around him. “Try again,” he says.

“Oh, Professor,” you say. Then you cannot help but giggle, recalling his evasion when you teased him in the lecture hall. The evidence of his desire says it all. “That really does make you hard,” you laugh, breathlessly, “I can feel you pulsing inside me.”

You squeak when he pushes you down onto the desk, holding your hips as he thrusts into you with more vigour. Then you are not saying anything, just moaning and riding out every quick snap of his hips. You are not sure how he manages to find the softest, squishiest, more sensitive place inside you, every time, no matter the place or position, sending you hurtling towards to an orgasm at breakneck speed.

“Oh, help, Professor, I’m gonna—”

“Me too, baby,” he says. “All inside you.”

“Ohh, fuck—” You come with a shuddering convulsion, twitching and clenching, your eyes closed as you pant into the wooden surface of his desk. Your orgasm ends and he is still fucking you, drawing it out. Your voice is guttural, low and breathy as you say, “Professor, be careful, we have no protection…”

He lifts you up, arches your back, and covers your mouth.

“I… told… you…” He punctuates each sound with a hard thrust. “To… be… quiet…”

Then he drives into you and stays there, groaning into your neck as he comes and comes. When his hand drops, you take in a gulp of air, shivering from the aftershocks of pleasure. You are spilling out of your bra from all the jostling, your skirt in disarray. You whimper when he pulls out of you, then again when he just covers you back up with your panties. They are soaked in a second.

“Maybe, uh,” he says with one of his funny, embarrassed, little giggles. “Maybe we should stop by home and clean up before we go for dinner.”

You giggle too, turning around to face him. You fix your shirt while he tucks himself back into his pants. He is already blushing and smiling that dimpled smile, looking all sweet and goofy as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out on his desk.

“Good idea,” you say. “That’s why you’re the professor.”

He laughs. Looking at you fondly, he cups your cheek and pulls you in for a long, tender kiss.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x you #skz x you #kpop fanfiction #valentinesdaystories #stilestotherescue

2K notes · View notes

tired-teacher-blog · 3 months

Text

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose mind couldn't be less concerned about the subject despite him nearing his thirties.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who usually brushes off his friends' teasing words about him being "clueless around girls" and "surely to die alone" since his one and only goal in life is to be a hero worthy of carrying his brother's title, and nothing more.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who has the habit of scolding you each time you playfully ask him out on a date since he's just so used to everyone's mocking and believes it's what you're doing as well.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is tragically unaware of your true feelings for him, and for someone who appears to be quite sharp and brainy, he constantly misses the longing gaze in your eyes.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who finally agrees to join you for dinner one evening just to shut you up and put an end to your pestering, only to wind up having a wonderful time with you, away from the usual stress of work.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who starts freaking out the moment he realizes that your soft voice and beautiful face are now hunting him, plaguing his every waking hour and rendering his mind a tangled mess, and the more he tries to deny it, the clearer it becomes that you are no longer just a dear friend to him, but potentially something a lot more than that.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose peculiar tics seem to worsen around you, prompting your confusion as you watch him lose his composure before disappearing without a trace.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who secretly wishes you would ask him out again since he cannot bring himself to do it no matter how much he tries.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who almost yells his agreement when his wish finally comes true as you casually suggest having a drink together after work.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose blush refuses to leave his face while he strives to keep his cool around you, beating himself up for seeming like a loser, but is unaware of how adorable he appears to you.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose priorities start to shift and broaden a bit -to potentially include you- the moment your hand accidentally brushes against his own when walking you back home after your fourth date.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who can never explain the persistent heat waves washing over his body everytime you flash him a smile or call out his name, and in his confused virgin brain, it can only mean him suffering from an illness which seems to aggravate with your presence. Yeah, that must be it.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who almost breaks into laughter when he realizes the real reason behind his inexplicable state the moment you share your first kiss. It was never a virus or a mysterious syndrome that hit him, it was simply you all along.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose arms shakily sneak around your waist and bring you against his toned chest to prolong this magical moment while your lips are moving perfectly together.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's unaware of the prominent smile plastered across his face for days now, his eagerness is growing by the second and the feeling of your soft breath fanning over his face as you leaned back from the kiss, is still vivid in his memory.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose body stiffens -but only for a second- the moment you invite him into your apartment with a suggestive glint in your eye. He's not stupid, and understands your intentions perfectly as they mirror his own, but his restlessness and excitement are messing with his brain and preventing him from voicing his approval, so much so that he ends up stiffly stepping inside without a word.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's barely able to form a coherent thought all throughout the movie you suggested watching together, and whose only interest seems to be in the way your fingers are absentmindedly playing with his own.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's just about reached his limit when you clumsily move to straddle his waist and claim his lips in a tender kiss as the end credits roll up the screen.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who curses under his breath when feeling his cock hardening against your restless hips, he wants more but is unsure of how to proceed, or if it is even possible for him to withstand your teasing without bursting in his pants.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who suddenly stands up while holding you in his arms, searching your eyes for a permission to carry you to bed, and stumbling his way there when you shyly nod an approval.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who lays you down gently and kneels before you, a deep flush reaching the tips of his ears as he racks his brain for what to do next.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose blush undeniably grows when you start giggling at his clumsy state and softly ask him to follow your lead as you guide his moves.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's a quick learner, promptly takes control and relishes the way your directing words jumble up with broken moans as you finally give in to him.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is a gentleman, does his utmost to pleasure you, as best as his virgin body allows, and boy does he do that!

Virgin Pro hero Iida who whimpers loudly while feeling your warm walls squeezing him blissfully for the very first time, praying to God not to cum right then and there as the sensation is driving him insane.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose tears are threatening to spill as he buries his face in the crook of your neck before giving in to them.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who cannot get enough of your warmth surrounding him, strokes, kisses and embraces you all night long while moving slowly and deeply into your heat and taking the time to explore your lustful body.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who breathlessly watches your enticing body splayed underneath himself with the hope of itching this heavenly image of you deep in his memory.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is proud and elated to have you as his first, it was never about losing his virginity but rather, about experiencing it with the right person, and that is precisely who you are.

Divider by : @/cafekitsune

1K notes · View notes

taexoxosgf · 5 months

Text

DO IT AGAIN

PAIRING brother’s best friend!park jisung x fem!reader

WORDS 3.7k

SYNOPSIS your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.

WARNINGS reader is tyong’s sister, jealousy, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

NOTES this smut is actually from a super long fic i posted on my old account! i’m not sure if i’m gonna post the whole thing because i’m cringing rereading it lol

“So, how’s your big bro’s parties? It’s better than frat parties huh?” Taeyong dangles the red cup charged with alcohol in front of your face just for you to swat away in annoyance. “No musty bathrooms and paint peeling off the walls! Woooooooo!”

You’re going to have to have a jolly time cleaning his vomit in the morning. “Stop drinking you little shit. I’m not gonna take care of you tomorrow, just so you know.”

He does a little dance that has you suppressing a laugh, “The night is still young! Loosen up a little! Won’t stop until you’re having as much fun as me!” Your brother is so out of it, that he bumps into a million corners of the home and an attendee urges him to the couch.

“Actually… I’m not feeling so good,” he shushes the person helping before running out of the main room.

“Oh my god,” you pinch the sides of your nose bridge, unable to understand how Taeyong’s motto is always all or nothing.

You're nothing near Taeyong's level of intoxication, and whether it's the devil on your shoulder or the drink, you want Jisung. Excruciatingly so. Whoever claimed that drinking made you act like a bitch in heat wasn't kidding. It's more than true now that you know he's nearby– wanting to look for Jisung because if he wasn't going to make a move tonight, you would.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls you, prompting you to turn around.

“Hyuck? Oh my god! How are you?” you’re already bringing your arms out for a hug and he’s quick to immediately accept.

You both went to high school together before he left for university thousands of miles away. He still texts you now and then, but due to the time difference, you never had the opportunity to properly catch up.

“Not doing too bad. It’s so good to finally talk face-to-face babe, holy shit,” he chuckles.

“How’s the East Coast? Did you find a girlfriend at Columbia yet?”

“Nah, you know me. Girls there are way too preppy for me. Plus, I can’t stand another minute of freshmen thinking they’re living through Gossip Girl,” he pretends to gag, swaying his body from side to side.

“Hey! Don’t hate. That show was ahead of its time,” you comment, brows raised.

“It IS! But I’m talking about the people acting as if they were a part of the show themselves. Like come on, you were probably five when it came out!” he exclaims.

"Fair enough," you nod. "You know who you should go for?" an idea flashes across your mind as you speak.

“Who?” he shifts closer, genuinely curious.

You wave towards you as another way of telling him to step even closer and cup your hand behind his ear before whispering, “Yuna.”

“What?! There’s no way!” he steps away, not expecting you would say your best friend’s name.

“Come on! You guys would look so hot together! What’s so ‘no way’ about that idea?”

Your old friend momentarily pauses, like he didn’t know what kind of question you asked. “She’d never go for me.”

“What? She used to have a crush on you! You were always around different girls so she never made a move,” you affirm. “You know how she was in high school,” you remind him of the girl who was once afraid to step out of her comfort zone.

“Are you serious? There’s no way that’s true! You’re straight up lying to my face right now,” he groans, looking as if he was going through a mental crisis due to the news.

“I swear on my Loubitons that it’s true! Just talk to her,” you point to the back door. “She’s in the backyard. I’m sure she would love to catch up.”

He brings a hand to his chin, soothingly rubbing with his index, “You do love those shoes…”

“More than myself, so come on! The times ticking!” you press him further, and his eyes light up when he realizes the words you’re feeding him might actually be true.

“You know what, fuck it.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Acting like a true alpha male!” you jump up and down, probably with more excitement than he has.

He chuckles at your words, “Okay. Okay. Let’s hang out and catch up this week. Let me know when you’re free.”

“Okay now go!” you try not to hold him back longer than he needs to be.

“I”m go-”

Before you can properly bid goodbye, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away towards the narrow hallway of the home.

You see it’s Jisung after checking, and he’s definitely on a mission by the way he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he drags you through the hallway and finally halts his steps at the sign of your bedroom door.

“Jisung, what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t let up on your wrist, and definitely doesn’t spare you a glance until you’re both in the room with the door shut behind your back. It’s almost pitch black in the room, and the only light source is the hallway lights illuminating underneath the crack of the door. Jisung finally lets go of your wrist when it’s just you two in your own space, and he brings that same arm above your head to anchor himself.

“Jisung.”

“Y/n,” his voice comes out hoarse, more playful. This was just what you wanted. He’s right here on a silver platter and you hadn’t even come close to building up the courage to approach him first.

Too bad you love to act dumb for the hell of it.

“What are you doing?” your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, noticing how close his face was to yours. It was the perfect opportunity. Taeyong was probably passed out along with the loud music all throughout the house. There’s no way anyone could hear a thing from inside the room.

“Just wanted you to myself,” he comments. You can smell the alcohol on his lips, assuming it was the reason behind his impatience– but don’t think he’s drunk due to his coherent speech and careful movements.

“You have me to yourself now. So what is it?” you gloat, acting as if you don’t notice him struggling to control himself.

“Sorry, I took you away from your little boyfriend. Look’s like you guys were having fun,” you can hear the slight anger in his voice, jaw clenching following the statement.

You roll your eyes in order to suppress a grin, the alcohol influencing you to play games, “Hyuck isn’t my boyfriend, just an old friend. Remember him?”

He notices the hint of playfulness in your eyes, wanting to just fuck it out of you. But he’s waited too long to do this, and there have been too many interrupted moments, so he leans into patience for resolve. “Oh, I must have missed something babe.”

You shift your face closer to him to prove your point once again, “He calls everyone that! Go up to him, he’ll literally call you babe.”

“Hmm,” Jisung hums. “Should I call him Hyuck too?”

Your eyes shoot to his plushy lips, his jealousy turning you on, but you don’t back down just yet, “If you heard that, then you must’ve heard the part where I told him to go for Yuna.”

“I checked out the moment you were calling each other pet names, baby,” he leans his hips against you, eyes evident with desire even in the darkness.

“Well, it’s definitely different coming from you,” you give him what he wants to hear, but it’s ultimately the truth.

Jisung pulls back just to lean down against your ear, “Different, how?”

It’s like he knows the power he has over you when he’s using that tone, including the fact that you feel him between your legs only slightly hard. It’s definitely bigger than you previously thought, the excitement shooting to your core, “I’m not spelling it out for you, baby.”

The name has him bringing his face back to where it was before, cocking a brow. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Play games. Don’t fuck with me because if you are, I’m gonna lose it,” he seethes, all control he previously displayed being lost in an instant.

You began narrowing the gap between the two of you even more, your noses brushing against each other. Jisung falters slightly as you do so, his hand landing on your hip. He's noticeably less in control than when he initially encircled you in the room, taking in every inch of you as you jut your hips forward.

He groans, struggling to keep up with what you've been doing.

"I'm not fucking with you," you say, holding his chin with your thumb and index finger, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. "Just giving you what you want."

Jisung doesn’t know how you tempt while looking so innocent. If he’s being honest with himself, he never holds a sliver of command when you’re present. “You’re hot as fuck,” he mutters, trying to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

"You're hotter," your lips nearly touch at the movement. You're grinning ear-to-ear, but it's short-lived as Jisung grabs your nape and presses his lips to yours. This kiss is nothing like the previous one, and you want to drown in him. You press your mouth even harder on his, and he responds by positioning his entire weight against your body. You’re actually somewhat sober this time around and take notice of the piercing at the corner of his lips. The silver metal grazing over your lips provides a cold sensation to the hot atmosphere, and you push down a moan at the feeling.

He’s such a good kisser, it surprises you but doesn’t at the same time. The boy you used to know was so different than the one in front of you now.

When you set your arms around his neck to play with his locks, he grabs a hold of your waist. You're drowning, arching your back to relieve the tension in your body as the kiss deepens. Jisung licks your lips, and you easily accept his tongue, lips fighting against his. His tongue dances with yours, getting sloppier by the minute, ready to rip each other's clothes off.

He taps the back of your leg with his hand, signaling for you to jump. You do so without breaking contact with his lips, and he smiles against yours. The taste of alcohol in his mouth ignites something within you, along with the scent of his washed hair intertwined with the cologne he’s wearing.

Jisung slowly sets you down against the mattress, slotting himself between your legs before he pulls back for air. “You look submissive as fuck right now. Is that what you’re into? Being dominated?” he purrs, fingers playing with the waistline of your pants.

“Only if you like to dominate.”

The switch in his head flips, and he uses one hand to unzip your jeans to slowly run his fingers over your clothed clit. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure to your sensitive core that's been begging to be touched. The thin material of your panties doesn’t do much to shield his touch, but one thing’s for sure, if it feels this good, you can’t imagine how it’d feel when it’s not just a tease.

“Fuck,” you pant, moving your hands underneath Jisung’s shirt.

“What?” he asks, moving down to your neck. The sensation of his warm tongue against your neck has your skin igniting goosebumps all over. “I can’t hear you. Already falling apart?”

“N-no,” you stutter, knowing damn well that anything done to you will be the actual end. It seems like he wants to win the moment he brings his red and swollen lips back onto yours, sparing any niceties. He’s smothering you, ruthlessly kissing you to no end. But when you become lost in his lips once again, Jisung slips his hand underneath the band of your underwear to touch your pussy head-on.

“Jisungg,” you say against his mouth.

Of course, he doesn’t let up, circling your bud, knowing exactly where to touch you even though this is the first time you’ve done this with him. It’s nothing, but feels like so much, your thighs attempting to close around his hand.

He’s still attacking your mouth with his, fingers trailing in an up-and-down motion between your folds. It surprises you, and you moan against his mouth, unable to maintain the same pattern with your lips. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he lets go of your mouth with a pop, groaning at the arousal coating his fingers.

“Please, Jisung. I need you,” you whimper, unable to take any more of the mere seconds of pleasure he’s giving you. You don’t even look down as he slides your pants off along with your panties in one motion. He tsks, lowly enunciating a small, “So impatient.”

Without anything in the way, he doesn’t waste time plunging his fingers into your pussy, groaning at the way the muscle tightly clamps around his fingers– and it shoots straight down to your core, never getting enough of how deep his voice is.

The pleasure you’ve been trying to grasp is finally reached, a gasp spilling from your lips once he curls his fingers inside you. Your hands have found their way to his back, fingers digging deep into his skin and he hisses at the slight pain.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your ear while his fingers begin to speed up in pace. You’re bucking your hips up, wanting to meet him halfway in order to reach euphoria. “I w-want it,” you cry.

“Want what?” he asks, voice too soft for the motions he’s enacting.

“Want you. Want you so bad,” you moan, throwing your head back when he hits a certain spot. It feels too good to stop, and every part of your body tingles at the pleasure.

You want to sob at the feeling it brings you, his fingers, mercilessly driving in and out of your cunt, while his thumb circles your clit. Your stomach feels tight from all the stimulation, and his body pressed against yours makes you feel hot all over. What you don’t notice is Jisung’s watching every movement on your facial features, loving the way your brows scrunch and how your pretty lips open up every time he hits a certain spot.

The band in your lower abdomen is on the verge of snapping, and the fact that he's above you doesn't help. Jisung's hair still falls perfectly, occasionally brushing the tip of his nose. He’s so fucking hot, you can’t hold back. You can't stop the orgasm from reaching your body simply by the way he feels on your body and looks above you.

“P-please,” you beg.

At the feeling of your pussy tightening around your fingers, he digs into your cheek, bringing your face back towards his. “Come on, you can do it. Cum,” he demands.

“F-fuck! I-I’m gonna–” you scream, body convulsing as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining for him to stop. Pulling his coated fingers out, just to bring it to his lips.

As the climactic high wears off, your body becomes limp, but the image of Jisung bringing his plump lips to wrap around his fingers leaves you wanting more. You nearly squeak when he groans at the taste, letting go of his fingers with a pop. "Mmm," Jisung moans. "You taste so good."

“Here, have a taste baby,” he smirks, bringing those same digits to swipe motions at your core. You whimper at the sensitivity, the buzzing feeling still present. “Open,” he commands.

You listen, sticking out your tongue for him to insert them into your mouth. The wet muscle swirls around his fingers, finally closing around them, and you gag when he presses further into your mouth, teasing your throat. “Good girl.”

It’s so arousing that you intend to get up from your original position beneath him, but he catches your wrists and pins them over your head to keep you in place. Maybe it's the unfulfilled horniness from all the other times he’s tried to get you under him, but it's got you whining and squirming beneath him for his tolerance. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this was gonna happen,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off your body.

His hot breath fans against your face, “Did you?” He begins to trace the contours of your body, slipping underneath your shirt on his way up. “No,” it’s a weak response, body twitching when he starts massaging your breasts. You had just experienced an unearthly orgasm, but everything Jisung does just causes your cunt to clench around nothing, and it’s only once out of a million times since he walked through the door.

“Just fuck me,” you plead, feeling his thick cock prodding at the side of your thigh.

“You sure?” he asks once more for confirmation.

“Yes, now hurry,” your whine turns into a pout, and he chuckles at your impatience.

“Do you have a condom in your room?”

“Fuck no, I’m on birth control.” He groans at the information, already quick to tug his cock out of its confines.

And just like that, Jisung slowly inches his cock into you. “Oh,” you cry at the fullness. He’s stretching you out so well, and the slight burn just adds fuel to the fire.

“Holy shit,” he sighs. “You’re so tight,” to ease the tightness, his fingers are already making their way back to your bud, circling in slow motions, “Relax for me pretty.”

You nod, eyes rolling back into your head when he slowly begins to move. “Fffuck,” he curses, his grip moving to your waist the moment your legs instinctively wrap around his. He feels so fucking good inside you and you regret with every ounce of your being you both didn’t do this sooner. You should’ve jumped him when you had the chance because fuck. How are you going to stop now? “You feel so fucking good,” he groans at the sensation.

“Ji–sung,” you moan, “Faster.” Your walls clench around his hard cock dragging against your walls, speeding up in pace and you fully lose it. The lewd sounds of skin slapping echo through the bedroom, and Jisung just swallows your pour of moans. He eventually listens to your request, practically nailing you into the mattress. It feels so good, the sounds coming from him, the feel of his cock pulling out, leaving the tip, just to roughly thrust back inside. You don’t know how much more you can take.

The thin silver chain he always wears around his neck dangles right before your eyes, and even in your fucked out state, you can’t stop looking at Jisung. The sweat on his forehead causes the front pieces to stick, the glow of sex already peeking through. “This is what you get,” he spits, but you can tell he’s slightly holding back. “This is what you get for all the times you fucking ran away. When I could’ve fucked you dumb like you want.”

Jisung’s name was the only thing coherent as he drills into you, squealing at a particular thrust of his hips. He’s so deep inside you, tip faintly against your cervix. “You’re cock’s s-so big,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision. The higher the tension builds in your stomach, the more Jisung continues to destroy you. “Jisung, fuck!”

“You like it hard huh? Want me to make your pussy mine?” His dirty words only have you holding onto him tighter, digging the heel of your feet into his spine. It’s too bad you can’t respond, your brain a puddle of mush at this point, cock going too fast for you to think about anything else. The bed frame knocks against the walls as the bed shakes but there’s no room to worry about that. Especially when he’s hitting every spot inside you perfectly.

“Answer me,” he grunts as your moans grow higher in pitch, unable to take it much longer.

“Y-yes, it’s a-all yours,” your body jolts after every movement, carving pleasure all over his skin. The thread that holds on for dear life is on the verge of snapping, and you wail before your second orgasm can send you crashing down.

It was so easy for Jisung to slide in and out of your pussy, your dripping arousal coating his cock perfectly. “Ji–” you attempt to warn him, but he already made his way back to your clit, pressing rough circles. You begin to babble random sounds, unable to form coherent words when he’s impaling you.

“Yes!” A shriek tears itself from your throat at your orgasm, and your toes curl at the high that takes over you yet again tonight. Your body spasms, and your mind stuck in a haze when he continues stuffing your achy cunt with him.

“Holy shit,” it’s almost impossible for Jisung to keep going when you’re clamping down on him like a vice, keeping him from completely being able to leave.

“Inside, cum inside, Jisung,” you plead when his hips begin to stutter. After a few more thrusts, he fully moans, painting your insides. “Fuck,” It feels even more full than before, if that was even possible and you whimper from the overstimulation from the last few movements. After his orgasm is at its resolution, he slumps into your form, not bothering to pull out.

You’re both just lying there trying to catch your breath, and it’s somewhat serene. The music combined with the vague sound of murmurs could be heard from outside and that’s when you remember that there were indeed a bunch of individuals present too. Maybe they heard you guys fucking, and Jisung seems to have similar thoughts when he raises his head to murmur something. “I forgot to lock the door.”

Your eyes shoot wide open in response, “What? Are you serious? Someone could walk in to you butt-ass naked!”

You’re actually alarmed, but he just stares back at you, his mouth turning into a wide grin. “Nah, I’m just playin',” he laughs.

You chuckle along with him, playfully slapping his shoulder because of his unseriousness. “You’re so annoying.”

“Get used to it baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

2K notes · View notes