💛💫THANK YOU FOR 1000 DOWNLOADS!💫💛

To celebrate 1K downloads, we put together a little something for you all! This will be the first installment of 3. We hope you enjoy!

UPPERHAND

     by Cath (shewassaying), editing by Crescence Studios

You lay sprawled out across the bed, comfy in your pajamas as episodes of your current guilty pleasure played. It was a crappy reality TV show. Meaning it was bad, trashy, very un-reality for a reality show– everything anyone could ever want in a guilty pleasure. But as you rewatched the show, things just weren't quite hitting the same. 

Maybe because the newest episodes were released last night. 

You'd promised Theo you wouldn't watch ahead without them. Since they had a meeting at some ungodly early hour today, they'd gone to bed early last night. Which meant you hadn't been able to watch it yet. 

They had even made you swear upon the life of your freshly drafted manuscript that you wouldn't watch until they got home. 

 Twice. 

 But… how would they know? You could just clear the watch history and act surprised, right? Maybe just for one episode… 

 You queue up the first new episode. The theme song plays in your room, only to be interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking. 

"Shit shit shit...!"

You scramble for the remote, somehow losing and finding it in the blankets a half dozen times before you manage to smash the power button. As the TV shuts off, you resume some kind of casual pose on the bed. 

 Wait... This makes no sense. Why would you be sitting on the bed in silence? You should have–-

 The door swings open. You're out of time. 

 "M'love?" 

 You roll over from your mock-lounge position to greet them, and your words die on your tongue. 

 Theo is… in a suit. 

 You'd been sound asleep when they left this morning, and hadn't seen them get ready. You didn't even know they owned a suit!

 They blink a few times at you, adjusting the sleeve of their shirt before sliding the jacket off, apparently entirely unaware of the car wreck they just caused in your brain. 

 "... Are you okay?" They ask slowly, movements slowing to an uncertain halt. Their jacket hangs from two fingertips, about to be discarded on the armchair near the bedroom door. 

 "F-fine! Hi!" Your voice is too loud. What in the hell is this doing to you? You've been together far too long to be so easily undone by a simple outfit change, but… but.. 

 You clear your voice roughly, trying your damnedest to act natural. Why is your throat so dry??

 "Hi," Theo echoes. A small smile curves their lips, and they let the jacket fall to the chair. Their eyebrow arches, and you know you've been caught. 

 Dammit.

 "You're making a face." 

 "..."

 Their smile grows. 

 You try to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks and glare at him. 

 "I am not making a face." 

 "Right... And I use box cake mix." They take a few steps forward, closing the distance between you. Their legs press against the bed, and they look down at you with a nearly smug expression. "You're blushing." 

 The sound that escapes you is something between mortified and outraged. You always have the upper hand when it comes to Theo. That's one of your favorite things about them. How easy it is to fluster them. The way their cheeks flush when you tease them. They way they stutter when you praise them.

But that damn suit has thrown you for a loop...! 

 You gnaw your bottom lip and avert your eyes, scanning the room for some way to get them back for this. For making you so–

 Fingers find your chin and firmly but gently redirect your gaze. Their gaze is affectionate. 

And heated. 

It sends a thrill through you, and for a moment you can only stare up at them. At the curve of their lip as they smirk at you. 

 Fuck it.

 You rise up on your knees, unsteady on the mattress. Their hand leaves your face, and their expression morphs to surprise as you grip them by the collar of that crisply pressed shirt. You pull them to you. 

Their hands find your waist—as if by reflex—but their eyes only widen, looking increasingly stunned, as you press your body against theirs. You bring your mouth a hair's breadth away from those slightly parted lips. This close, you can smell the bakery off him—sweet vanilla and warm cinnamon.

 His face goes scarlet. The smile you give him is undeniably wolfish. And appropriately so. You could absolutely devour him. 

 "Now you're blushing." You whisper. Your voice is husky but steady. Just like that, you've gotten the advantage once more, and it's delicious. 

 You pull him down over you, and they offer absolutely nothing in resistance, catching

themselves on their elbows. Their eyes never leave yours, and you get lost in the overwhelming blue of their gaze. 

 "S-So… good suit?" 

 "Very." 

 You tug their collar again, and suddenly, you're pressed between plush blankets and Theo's firm body. There's a surprising amount of strength in their lean form. Your bodies slide together, puzzle pieces. Made to fit against each other. A slow, controlled release of air passes their lips–the exact reaction you were looking for.

 Their mouth drops towards yours. They wrap an arm around you once more, to pull you ever closer, like the two of you can never be close enough. Their touch is tender, but there's an edge—a fervor—to the way their fingertips dig into your sides. You relish moments like this, when you can coax them past their usual gentleness, and into the kind of desire that overrides their instinct to treat you delicately. 

 You wrap your arms around their neck, blood racing with anticipation–

 There's a sound. Music…?

 It almost sounds like...

Your eyes widen. The TV is on. Showing the exact episode you had sworn on your newborn manuscript not to watch—

 Theo's eyes snap wide, and they whip their face towards the television. You scramble in the blankets, trying to find the remote, but their arm locks around you and holds you in place. You're scrambling fruitlessly as they pin you. Their gaze turns back to you in horror. 

 "You were going to watch… without me??!"

 "I– I–" You sputter, trapped and entirely uncertain of how to proceed. How did the TV...? Then it dawns on you. Your weight must have shifted just right, pressing the remote still tangled in the blankets.You swear. You know that means you have to face the consequences. 

 "W-Wait, Theo...!"

 An impish grin spreads across their face, and they sit back on their heels so they're kneeling over you. For less than a heartbeat, fear shoots through you. It's entirely irrational of course, but you can't deny the relief that floods you when they grab hold of one ankle and begin to tickle your socked feet. 

 You laugh and thrash and struggle, attempting to crawl away only to be tugged backwards into a breathy, giggling kiss. You don't even notice the echoes of fear leaving you, can't even remember the feeling existed at all, as you submit to your partner's kisses. A consequence you would gladly bear.