#<- you can always dm and ask or send an ask asking how they feel about having multiple versions of canon characters

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pent Up 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You peer around awkwardly, unsure of the fine silvery cutlery and which of the forks to use. You can’t help but feel out of place as you’re the youngest at the table; by decades. It’s surreal, like when your mom left you with your great grandparents as a child. She said it would be a few days but it turned out to be a month. They never had you back. 

You fidget and play with the frill along your left shoulder. The asymmetrical cut isn’t your favourite. You’re not sure what high school you was thinking, even if it was only a few years ago. 

“That colour is gorgeous on you,” Frigga preens, forcing you out of your anxious trance. 

You smile sheepishly. “Thanks. I... love your hair pin.” 

She touches the pearl barrette in her hair. “Oh, thank you, dear.” 

He uses the smaller fork, you think, to poke at her salad. You’re not into kale, you find it dense, but you know better to complain or decline. Just like with her son. You gulp and grab your fork. It’s like when your great grandmother made you that olive and cottage cheese delicacy you vomited into her garden. The salad is more palatable. 

You taste it, hoping the task of chewing can save you from talking. They all are exceedingly skilled at that and you don’t have much to offer. If you try, that screaming inside your head might escape to the outside. 

You wince as Thor rests his large hand on the back of your chair. 

“She’s a very clever woman. She works with electronics. Oh, and is she attending classes.” 

You swallow and nearly choke. He’s bragging about the lamest things in your life. Your job is boring and you don’t really do anything with the computers yourself. And classes... you’re just trying to pad your resume. 

“It’s very important to get an education,” Odin intones. “What’s more important is what you do with it. I spent a fortune on two engineering degrees for this one...” he shakes his head. “And look where he ended up.” 

You’re even more confounded by that revelation. Thor? An engineer? What on earth got him put in prison? You try not to delve too far into that riddle. It’s probably best to ignore that. How many red flags did you already ignore? What’s another. 

“It’s nothing special. Just... business admin. Basic stuff,” you shrug.  

Frigga’s eyes narrow and Odin tilts his head. They aren’t impressed and they shouldn’t be. That might be something. If they don’t approve of you... 

“And... I’m stuck with my parents still so... you know...” You add. 

“She is saving money. For us,” Thor assures. “You know things are difficult these days and father always said there is value in hard work.” 

“Mm, so I said,” Odin drawls. “Certainly, I hear your brother took that to heart. I hear he’s hired help.” 

“Oh?” Thor sniffs. “And still he could not come see me?” 

“He has not come to see all of us. Your mother only chanced upon him herself. Hasn’t even the time to pick up the phone for her--” 

“He is busy,” Frigga assures Odin as she pets his hand. “He will be here for your father’s birthday. That is what matters. And his assistant, she was darling. Though he was in a state. You know how he can be. Perhaps you might ask his advice, Thor. He could help you find some work.” 

“Hm, I suppose I could try asking,” Thor shifts, retracting his hand from the back of your chair. “I am not helpless. I have plans...” 

“Yes, son, you have told us the same many times. I believe the day before your sentencing,” Odin scoffs. “A bit old now to be falling back into bad habits.” 

“Father. I’ve turned myself around and she,” he reaches over to take your hand, your fork scraping your plate, “will keep me straight.” 

“Right,” Odin crosses his arms and leans back. “Don’t tell me so, show me.” 

“Father, I--” Thor clears his throat.  

Silence rises with a rippling tension. You look between his parents. You piece together the few clues you have. You can’t really begrudge them their doubt. You have your own. 

“Well, I have one in particular,” Thor pushes his chair back and keeps hold of your hand.  

He slides your fork free and puts it on the table. You peek up at him, confused. He kicks his chair back and he turns, lowering himself to one knee with a grunt. He digs in his pocket with his other hand and pulls out a band with a large diamond sparkling in the light. 

Frigga gasps and you gurgle. Odin sighs. 

“My queen, how I’ve waited so long for us to be together and now I can’t hardly wait for it to be. Please, will you make me your king?” He holds up the ring. You could fold over and evaporate into the floor. Sweat glazes over your face and your scalp itches. What do you say? 

“Um,” you sniff and blink. Your options are many. You really don’t have any. You’re too afraid of even saying no to him. Even with witnesses. “Yes?” 

He squeezes your hand and you let out a fluttery noise. Your heart is thumping, deafening you as the world pinpoints to his grip on you. He opens his hand and slides the ring onto your finger. You stare at the large rectangle diamond framed in smaller diamonds on a gold band. It must be expensive. 

A chair scrapes and you wince. You look over as Odin clucks and turns on his heel. He swipes up his can from against the table and marches out. Not a word, not a look. You look at Frigga as she gives a gentle smile. 

“He’s in shock, I think,” she says. 

You glance at Thor as he stares after his father. His face falls. He lets go of you and gets up, another groan as he does. He sits in his chair and frowns. 

“I thought he’d be happy,” Thor mutters. 

“Oh, of course he’s happy for you, son,” she affirms and reaches across to her son. He takes her hand. “I am. Don’t you worry.” 

“He didn’t say anything,” Thor sneers. 

“Thor, it’s been a lot. You’ve been away from us for so long and now this... it’s all very sudden. We’ve just met this lovely woman.” She looks at you kindly. “What are your plans? For the wedding?” 

“I have my trust,” Thor recoils and crosses his arms, almost petulant. At his size, the bratty demeanour is almost laughable. “I was not entirely unproductive in prison. I only ever did what needs to be done. Mother, you know I am not a cruel person. I’ve made mistakes, I admitted them. And you all hold it against me.” 

“No, we don’t, darling--” 

“You do! But only my diamond forgive me. She is so kind and--” he huffs. “He couldn’t even stay and face me. Congratulate me. Worse, he’s disrespected my future wife.” 

Wife? You could faint. You brace the sides of the chair to keep from doing just that. 

“Dear,” Frigga’s eyes meet yours. “Are you unwell?” 

You shake your head. You lean forward and catch yourself against the table. You reach for the tall glass by your plate. 

“I only need water,” you assure her. 

“Mm, yes, we shouldn’t let all this go to waste,” she tuts. “You know, your father just needs time. He is like you and your brother. You only need simmer in your thoughts then you come to sense. Eventually.” 

🩷

Leaving brings both relief and dread. You are glad to be free of the repressive exuberance of Thor’s family estate but uneasy at the prospect of being alone with him. Again. 

You sit in the passenger seat and stare at your hand. The large stone is as heavy as a boulder. You are not Sisyphus. You’re not sure how much further you can get it up the hill. 

“I am so happy. Are you?” He asks. 

You sit up and suck in a thick breath. You are many things. Afraid, lost, almost mourning. You regret being so stupid. Those idiotic emails were only meant to be... well, an ego boost. You are so pathetic, you wanted desperate men to tell you lies. And you told your own. 

“Thor,” you utter cautiously. “It’s a very nice ring and a very nice gesture but... I’m still very young and I don’t have much. I think maybe--” You pause and weigh your words; does the boulder roll back to the bottom of the hill? “Maybe that’s why your dad wasn’t happy. Because I’m not—not the right person for you right now--” 

He slams on the brakes. You squeal as the seat belt keeps you from hitting the dash. A car honks and serves around him. He ignores them. 

“Not right for me? You are the only one for me,” he insists. “My queen, you said yes to me.” 

“I did. I—I didn’t want to have this conversation there. It’s not that... It’s... I’m... I have to finish school and right now isn’t good for me--” 

“You don’t need school. I will take care of you--” 

“Thor, I can take care of myself--” 

“It is my job to take of you,” he snarls. 

You lean away from him, startled by his deeper tone. In the cabin of the truck, he is even bigger. You wipe your sweaty hand on your skirt. 

“It’s very sweet of you but--” 

“You said yes,” he growls. 

You blink, eyes tinging with moisture. You wet your lips. Your throat is scratchy. 

“Yes,” you nod. “Thor... My parents... you know, I think maybe before we decide anything I need to talk to them.” 

“Oh, I will be speaking with this man, this stepfather of yours. I will not be asking anything of him either. I will be telling him,” he says. 

You gulp. While the idea of him intimidating Andy is on the surface amusing, it’s deeply troubling too. You don’t want your family to know anything about Thor. 

“Well, let me talk to them first.”  

Another car honks and you look out the back window. Thor is unbothered by the roadblock he’s caused. You are about to melt into a puddle. 

“Can I be honest?” You ask. 

He stares and nods. The lines in his face trace his displeasure. Your eyes wander to his rounded muscular silhouette and his thick hands. The intrusive thought of them around your neck make you squirm. What if he killed someone? 

“I didn’t tell them yet,” you blurt out. It’s true but still a lie because it isn’t the truth you kept from him. “My family. I never mentioned you. I... never told them about anyone so I think they might be surprised and, so, er, can’t you let me... tell them first?” 

He looks at you. His forehead wrinkles. He exhales through his nose. Another car lays on their horn. He shakes his head and sits straight. 

“I suppose...” he mutters as he hangs his head. The horn continues to blare. 

He grips the wheel and he face twists in agitation. He peels his fingers off and balls his hands to fists. He hits the steering wheel and snarls. 

Before you can react, he taps the button on his seat belt and it retracts. He swings open the door, mindless to oncoming traffic, and gets out of the car. He lands heavy on his feet and marches along the side of the truck. 

You panic and scramble to untangle yourself from your seat belt. You fall out of the truck as you hear him hollering. 

“You honking at me?” Thor barks as he approaches the other car. “You’re messing with the wrong man.” You sprint around the truck bed as he gets to the driver’s window. He bends to snarl through, “why don’t you open up and face me, eh? Coward!” 

“Thor, please, get back in the car,” you scurry over. “Please, we’re in the way--” 

“No, he has no patience!” He hits the top of the car and leaves a dent. You gasp. It looks as if it took him no effort at all. 

The man in the car is frightened. He curls over his wheel and revs in a futile effort to scare away the raging giant. You grab Thor’s hand and pet his forearm. 

“Thor...” you peek once more at the scared driver. It’s your fault. All of this is your fault. “My king.” You coo at him shakily. “Please get back in the truck and take me home.” 

“He is disturbing us! He could go around--” 

“Thor!” You nearly shriek. “How can I marry you if you are so angry? If you do not listen to me?” 

His eyes round and he twitches as if he’s been struck. He looks at you and his face turns grim. “Marry me?” 

“I didn’t-- I wasn’t saying no. I was just saying—asking for some time,” you look him in the eye, caressing him, calming him like a riled dog. “But I can’t marry someone who does these things.” 

He lowers his head. He actually looks guilty. He nods and turns. He bends and taps gently on the window. He waves his hand. 

“Sorry about that. Bad day,” he gives a sheepish grin. “Here.” He lets you go and takes out his wallet. He takes out a couple of bills; each at least a hundred dollars. “For the roof.” 

He tucks the money under the wiper and stands straight. He latches onto you again and drags you away. He sighs out the tension. 

“You are right, my queen.” He says. “This is why I need you. To keep me in my right mind.” 

[kyra45]

Commission scams v2

(Commission scams v2)

How it starts

(How it starts)

So you are a tumblr artist and you want to share your art into the void that is tumblr. You make a post, add the usual tags like ‘my art’, ‘artists on tumblr’, ‘digital art’, or event just ‘art’ in general. Then you hit post and watch it see how much attention your hard work will get. Maybe you even did a commission and your commissions are open so you may have even added ‘commissions open’ as an extra tag. Now you wait. Surely it’ll take forever to get any interest…But! Then you see it! A comment asking you if your commissions are open. It’s done within seconds of the post being made. What luck! You do have commissions open so you DM them because they asked you to.

—

How it works

(How it works)

Once you message the account they will then tell you they want you to draw their pet or a family member such as their son. But they won’t take any offered payment methods that you have listed in your commissions post that they saw. Instead, they will ask you what your email address is so they can send you the money that way. Might seem odd but they claim they just have issues with using the links you offer. But they promise a high payment for this simple commission so you give them your email address and wait for the payment to come through. Unfortunately something goes wrong. There’s a new email from ‘PayPal’ but it’s claiming there’s been a little problem crediting your account and that you need to pay to upgrade it in order to receive the payment. So you do as stated but somehow this isn’t enough. Now you don’t have money, you lost some money too, and the account you messaged is threatening to get the local law enforcement after you if you can’t send them the money back. You get scared and start to panic. So you keep sending money and more money but nothings happening. However, if you calm down and pay attention you’ll likely notice the real issue.

—

The fake PayPal email

(The fake PayPal email)

Upon closer inspection the ‘PayPal’ message you’ve received is fake and doesn’t come from the official PayPal email address. The account who contacted you is scamming you and has no intention to pay you and that’s why they won’t use any provided links. You’ve been scammed out of work and likely have lost more money than you wanted to lose.

—

What can you do to avoid this scam?

(What can you do to avoid this scam?)

When posting art always keep an eye out for these kind of spam bots. They’ll comment asking you to DM them or comment asking you to DM them if commissions are open. You will eventually notice the repetitive comments across multiple posts they like too. Do not contact these accounts and instead block them and alert other artists about them.

(If you find this guide useful, feel free to commission me for art! Just adding it so tags are relevant and also to show off any of these bots that target posts lol)

[goddesslaya]

As many of you may know, my main blog @goddesslayax has been nuked. Lol RIP!

My other blog @goddesslayaxxx is probably on its way. (yes anything with Laya, layaxxx is shit that belonged to me 😂 I've been here A WHILE)

So TA DA!  A new one lmao. It's like I actually enjoy making men needy... what!?! Noooo lol

If you are new here, Welcome. Buckle the fuck up!

My name is Goddess. Not Miss, Not Mistress, Not Mommy, Not Daddy. GODDESS. Capital D ! Lol.

I only Reblog posts on Tumblr. The good juicy shit you like...I post it on my website. YES it's FREE! It's not an OF or anything. I don't do that shit. It is NSFW so yes you will have to have an account (Like Google) to access it. Not my rules, so don't complain. That's just how my website works...for now.

(It is NOT required to support my website in order to view everything. Nothing is hidden behind a paywall. However, support is always appreciated ♥️🖤)

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

In order to speak with me and have an actual conversation with me, you WILL respect me and my rules.

Talking to me is FREE. I don't charge people to talk to me in general. That's a human function that most charge tributes for. I'm not one of those people. However, there is a limit to what you can ask/talk to me about.

RULES :

#1

You will NOT ask me certain personal questions SFW or NSFW. This includes but not limited to things like:

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

"How big is your cock?"

"Can I see your cock?

"Are you single?"

"Are you married?"

"Which kink makes you wet?"

"Where exactly are you located?"

etc...

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

Want to know what my cock looks like? Want me to go into detail about my kinks? My personal life? You will Request a Service.

You should be able to tell what kind of kinks I enjoy...simply by scrolling my blog or my website...if you can't tell what kind of kinks I like based off what I post on my website and what I reblog here, then you are asking to be treated like a dumb ass.

I am a stranger on the internet. I am not your bestie. Don't ask personal questions that you would not actually ask in person. I am in America (for now). If you have not submitted a request to see me in person, my location is irrelevant to you. Don't be a creep.

#2

I DO NOT CARE about you cumming, jerking off, getting hard etc.. If you have not requested and paid for a service ... Your cock and what you are doing with your cock... is irrelevant to ME and MY LIFE.  At any time I feel you have crossed the line from respectful stranger who just wants to talk normally vs someone who desperately needs service/attention from me...I will automatically send you a message that will tell you to request a service. Your question, statement... etc will be IGNORED and you will be met with my website link or instructions on how to Request a Service.

I don't take trash off the streets. I will NOT just be YOUR owner/YOUR Goddess. That is not how I work. If you want to be OWNED by me, be my property, be my sub, you will go through an application and submit a request. This is OWNERSHIP.  THIS IS A SERVICE. If you are already owned, you better figure that shit out. Don't come to me complaining that someone else is not doing their job. Not my problem. Figure out how to be a better submissive or find someone worthy of actually owning you.

#3

My messages/chats are Open However, I will ignore your DMs like you never existed... unless you've done the following:

Addressed me properly (Good Morning, Good Afternoon, or Good Evening Goddess....)

Tell me your age (and it must be in your bio, I will check.)

Tell me how many rules I have and that you have read them. (It's not that difficult lol)

PSA:

I do not call my "strap" a strap. I  say cock/dick etc...alot. If you are not comfortable in your sexuality to accept that, my blog is NOT for you.

And would you look at that, you've made it to the end!! Good job for reading all my rules! I'm so proud of you. You have pleased me so well. Now, that all of the formality is out the way...Let's have some fun! Here is your first task.. show me how fucking needy and desperate you can be. See if you can make it all the way down to the bottom/start of my blog... without cumming. Reblog & like 20 of your favorite posts 🖤

(If this one is still new, go to @goddesslayaxxx)

Have fun 🖤🖤🖤

[art--harridan]

[Image description: A digitally drawn music single cover. Descending from the top, there's an orange dragon. One of its claws rests beneath it, while it swivels its neck up and then down, facing towards the viewer. The design of the dragon has very angular facial features and claws, but more curves in the body and the wings. From its nostrils, it breathes out a stream of fire in the shape of the band's logo (which is a spiral with a tail at the bottom left). Light emanates off of this, signified by a half-tone texture of a yellow glow, and a faint line of light on the dragon. The dragon is lined with an dark burgundy, which is the same colour used for the font at the bottom that says "dragon's lair". It is fully capitalised, and the letters end sharply, like talons. The text grows larger at either end. There is also text following the shape of the dragon's neck, which says "the grove daisy road" - the band's name - in bubble writing and a deep green colour. These letters are not in line. The background for the whole cover is a light green.]

I made the cover for a band's new single (Dragon's Lair by The Grove Daisy Road) which is available for listening now :)

[waterfallofspace]

hello, it is me on your feed again to again do something I'm gonna have so much trouble committing to, but!!!

I'd like to practice doing no more than 1k word drabbles (since every request I accept ends up being like, 2k-5k and it makes it really hard to create when it's always such a long project 😭) Feeling that longing to be creative, but finding it a bit hard to do some larger projects~

So!!! This is an open invitation (/request of my own) for anyone who has lil prompts they'd like only 1k or less drabbles of!~ Feel free to do any fandom I've written for, or talked about before even if I haven't written~ or to submit multiple prompts if you'd like more than one thing!~

I'm always open to requests (though I don't promise to take them all) but this time I'm openly asking if anyone has some for tiny lil drabbles, just something to get the writing going without all the pressure/expectations of somethin longer!~

(honestly could maybe do the same with little audio snippets if anyone wants that, in 'character' or not, but I'm mostly aiming for writing~)

[obeymissmaddy]

Hey there my simpy little slaves. I'm Miss Maddy aka your Queen and welcome to your true calling. Serving me. I'm a findom/ hypnodomme although I like playing around in infinite different ways. Obeying and serving mommy are your only true desires now, my adorable lil subby.

Go put in earphones and listen to my pinned intro recording above to get to truly know what I'm about and what serving me is like. You are about to enter a whole new world darling. You were always going to to fully submit to me. This was always going to happen. Welcome home.

Click on ''Keep reading'' to truly submit to me, my adorable little slave. Some more fun is waiting for you down there. It's time to truly submit to mommy. You may message me after you have listened to all of em & when you have read everything below. I'll help you be the best slave you could possibly ever be for me, my adorable lil toy. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Oh what's that? You physically and mentally couldnt keep yourself from pressing the ''Keep reading'' button for mommy. Good little subby. That's what I thought. I love how weak you are for me already. You are fully mine now, darling. Fully mine, my permanently owned little slave/bitch. Now and forever. You may listen to the above extra verification recording above before you continue reading, oh, and I've got another extra extra verification recording you can listen to by clicking right here, little sub. I do some silly little extra things in that one, lol & something you are honestly unworthy of hearing, actually.

Welcome home darling. Welcome to your true calling. You exist to serve me. You exist to please me and to honor me. It's that simple, my adorable brand new little subby. This is where you truly belong.

No matter who you are and no matter where you're from, you are welcome to serve. Idc if you're a guy a gal a sissy a cuck, a pupsub, femboy or mascgirl etc. You read that correctly darling. I'm adding that as I keep getting asked by all kinds of little toys if I'll take them under my wing. Yes darling. You are welcome to serve your superior Queen.

Some of the fun things that are ahead of you, my lil subby:

★ Being dominated by me in every single way imaginable. I'll mold you and train you into exactly what I desire you to be be, my tiny lil slave.

★ Findom and human ATM training. I'll hypnotize you and make you fully realize the reason that you exist. The actual reason that you exist.

★ Something you won't ever be able to comprehend that you'll very soon experience for yourself. How exciting. Welcome to forever, slave.

Some other things I loooooove to do: Putting my subs and slaves in permanent mental chastity. Denying them. Cucking them. Harsh mental domination. Putting my subs in their place. Bullying my subs. Making them/you realize that your only rightful place in the world is at my feet. Sending. Serving. Draining. Obeying. Mindfucking them/you until all they can think and dream of is me. Truly train them to only ever feel their body and mind respond when they think of me or are talking to me. Fully mentally and physically owning you in every way imaginable and then some is one of my absolute favorites, my adorable little slave. You've experienced nothing until you've experienced being my perma owned slave, my mindfucked lil toy. I'll make you feel all warm and fuzzy for me, and at other times, I'll use your own desires against you to fuck your mind harder than it's ever been fucked before. You'll wish you had found me sooner, darling. ✧˖°.

I respond to DMs personally. I'll encourage you to spiral for me and send and drain as much as you possibly can straight into my bank account no matter how big or small your pockets are, my sweet toy.

I've got subs who send me over $10k monthly, and subs who send me about $100 a month, and many who send me something in between. No matter how big or small your pockets are, you are welcome to serve me, my good little slave. You are welcome to honor and adore me like the slave that you are. Serving me, sending to me and listening to my voice on loop is now your fav thing. Hearing my voice again and again is now your only desire. Earning your next hypno and draining your wallet for me are now your only desires, my adorable little slave.

Oh, and all my content is faceless. I'm a faceless domme/caption domina. You aren't worthy of seeing my gorgeous face and perfect body, but I'll gladly put you in your place by captioning pics of women that you will never be worthy of either. How fun, hahahah. I may share something once I think you have truly proven yourself to me, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll deny you, but you won't even receive a censored pic of my socks until I think you deserve it. Denying my subs like that is honestly one of my favorites. I love the true, raw and genuine power dynamic it creates, and how deeply it mindfucks all of my little slaves.

Molding you and owning you completely with just the power of my voice is one of my actual favorites, and so incredibly easy too. Making you realize you don't deserve to even see a pic of my censored socks is so wildy funny to me. Denying you the privilege of seeing my gorgeous face and perfect body is one of my favorites ways to train, rewire, condition & let you know who's boss, my tiny toys/slaves. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

To begin serving me/your journey of being my permanently owned and hypnotized slave, simply DM me: ''I wish to serve Miss Maddy.'' and I'll guide you one step at a time. Once you've done so I'll allow you to send me your initial $100 tribute and if you can't afford that you may give me a number between $20 and $100 instead. Obviously DMing me the exact phrase ''I wish to serve Miss Maddy.'' to begin our dynamic will make the best first impression, slave. Once you've done so, we'll begin your training protocol and you'll get to earn your very first hypnosis recordings from me. You'll finally get to actually serve me. Your one and only rightful owner. Welcome to forever, my little sub. You are about to go on a journey that has always been waiting for you. You DMing me that lil phrase was always going to happen. See you in my DM's in 1 second, my adorable little slave.

FAQ / Frequently Asked Questions

What kinks do you cater to?

I don't ''cater'' to kinks. You exist to cater to me. My desire? Your tributes. Your submission. Your cash and total devotion to me and me alone. You'll hand over everything you have to me and you'll thank me for the privilege. You'll be begging to send me more and more, until you are fully drained dry for your Queen. Your only desires are to send and go deeper and deeper for me, slave. The more you beg me to take you deeper, the cuter I'll think you are. Hahah. I like you desperate, needy, and completely mindfucked.

That being said, I might entertain your kinks and desires if I think you deserve it, my suggestible and mindfucked little slave.

Some of my fav ways to mindfuck/warp your little mind:

Ignore sessions. Tease and denial. CEI. Edging. Humiliation. Degradation. Positive feminization, Mental Chastity, Permanent mental chastity. Premature ejaculation training. Orgasm denial, Toilet humiliation, Mind fuck/mesmerize, Heel simp training, Loser/simp/beta/cuck acceptence training, Caption obsession training. Foot slave training, Censored foot loser training, Fincucking. Objectification/turning you into an object. Hypnosis (duh) Dumb and dronification, Human ATM-ization, Simpification and so much more. Get ready, my adorable simpy little slave.

Where can I drain my wallet for you, Miss Maddy?

I'll tell you once you have DM'd me a number between $20 and $100, slave. You know which of those 2 numbers to pick though.

What do I get for my money?

The honor and privilege of serving me and anything I deem you worthy of. You'll get to earn 3 hypnosis recordings though after you've sent me your full initial tribute. The deeper you are for me, the more special the things that you'll get to earn will become.

What if I’m not a finsub/paypig?

You will be, for me. You now are one, for me, simply because I just said so, hahah. That's true power darling. That's actual raw and authentic power, my permanently owned little simpy bitch. ⋆˙⟡

Do you have any other social media(s)?

This is my only real page, darlings. I'm tumblr exclusive. I just like the vibe of this platform above all others. I've got a fun surprise for you though, but you'll find out after you have DM'd me: ''$100'', slave.

Are there any types of subs you don't accept?

I accept you as my sub no matter your race, gender, sexual orientation, age (over 18, of course), and abilities, my little toy.

What kind of sub do you like?

Your kind. The kind of sub that couldn't help but read all of this, hahahah. Welcome to forever, subby. You are going on a wild ride.

What happens after I send you my initial tribute?

Click here to listen to my other intros n some fun extras.

The only thing left for you to do is DM me that number between $20 and $100 now, slave. You know what to do to make a cute first impression. And once you have, I'll send you the link to my payment method. Once you've sent it, I'll guide you one step at a time, slave.

No need to think anymore. Simply obey your Queen, darling. Don't complicate anything. Simply obey. All of the above was just to fully introduce you to me. You are so deep for me now subby, it's just you and me now, slave. Just you, and me. Go ahead, slave, DM Mommy.

If you've never done anything like this before and you're a bit nervous, super excited or shy, or scared even, that's ok darling. All of your feelings are ok. It's normal to feel funny right before you submit to your one and only rightful owner. Go ahead subby. Submit to mommy. Obey your Queen. Spiral for mommy and DM me ''$100'' now, slave.

You subs may call me Mommy, Queen, Mistress or Miss btw, my mindfucked and suggestible lil toys. To simplify all of the above simply send me a DM. DM me: ''$100'' right now and I'll start taking you deeper one step at a time. Once you have you'll get to earn your first hypnosis recording from me, and will get to finally begin your slave training protocol. See you in my DM's in 1 second, subby. You don't think. You only obey. You only obey me. You only obey mommy. Simply drop for mommy and send me your first DM right now, my suggestible lil toy. DM me: ''$100'' and I'll allow you to drain it into my bank account, slave. That first send will be the beginning of the journey that you have always been waiting for. It's time to drop. ⋆˙⟡

I've got 1000s of subs constantly begging in my DMs for my attention, my sweet subby. I'll expect nothing but the absolute best from you. I'm used to nothing but the best and most subservient and respectful slaves. You being as respectful as you possibly can be for me is the least I expect of you, darling, and oh, I won't notice any of your messages until you message me that $number. Go ahead, my adorable little toy. You know what to do now. You know what to do to earn your hypnofiles from me, (the most powerful hypnofiles/recordings in the entire world) and oh so much more. You are about to experience things physically and mentally that you didn't even know were possible. Everything is a completely new experience with me. Welcome home. It's time to DM me that $number, my suggestible lil slave. 💬

[escapenightmare]

sae itoshi was not a nonchalant boyfriend or a chill guy, despite how much he tried to seem like he was. you don’t ask him for his opinion on your outfit? do you not want him (to compliment you and ask you to do a small twirl so he could see the ensemble properly and then pepper your cute face with kisses)? you don’t want him to share his food with you? okay, so basically you’re saying you want him to go to hell.

you tell him to quit liking flirty comments from random people under your posts? what’s wrong with that, he agrees with them— you’re absolutely stunning. and no, he isn’t doing it just so those randoms get a notification that saeitoshi, with a silly picture of you and him with your cheeks smushed together as his profile picture, has liked their comment so that they now know you aren’t single and looking for some sleazy jackass who thinks they can get your undivided attention just by commenting ‘🔥🔥’. seriously, how dare you accuse him of such pettiness?

but really, none of that is compareable to how he feels right now; damp hair sticking to his forehead, towel over his shoulder, one hand buttoning up his loose shirt while he’s looking at his phone, fresh out of the shower after the usual training. his teammates are yapping about something like they always do but it’s all silent in his head as he takes in what feels like utter blasphemy on the screen.

zero notifications.

well, actually, he had a shit ton of texts messages from his teammates and people he considered somewhat his friends but none of them really matter— only you do.

and you hadn’t texted him since yesterday (almost 24 hours ago!), when he was on his way home and asked you if you wanted him to bring you extra snacks or something.

do you hate him?

he clicked out of the messages app and checked instagram, where you’d usually have flooded his dms with chronically online shit that he had no idea how you found funny. seriously, what the heck is all that about divers going into small spaces and eye of dih? he visibly deflates when he sees you hadn’t sent anything on there either (the last text was from him, when he’d said ‘???’ to your text that read ‘what is a father?’).

Sae [16:43pm]: Do you hate me

nah. scoffing to himself, he deleted the words, exited the app and pocketted his phone. since when was he such an attention deprived, needy little shit? whatever.

by the time he opens the front door to your shared home, there’s still no text, no call, no reel, nothing from you. “angel?” he calls out in his usual, casual tone, nudging the door shut with his boot. “’m home.”

“in here, sae,” you call out from the bedroom and he quickly takes off his shoes, drops his duffel bag onto the couch and trudges into the bedroom, feeling as if if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging harshly behind him. “i was just about to text you.” you tell him with a small smile from where you’re sitting on the office chair behind the desk, your laptop in front of you and notes strewn all over the desk. you were.. studying.

ah, right. no wonder you hadn’t texted him.

you barely register his silent footsteps and fast pace until he’s right behind you within the time it took for you to blink, one hand on the arm of the chair to turn it around before he’s half hunched over you, his other hand pressing on your back to tug you into a hug. “missed you,” his voice is muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, the soft tufts of his moist hair tickling your chin and neck. “thought you hated me.”

“what?” it was said so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, but you do and now you’re pulling back a bit to look at him properly. “what gave you that idea?”

“forget about it,” he tries to avoid the question in a painfully untactful manner, attempting to hug you again, but faltering as he sees the look on your face. god, this was so humiliating. “y‘didn't text me today— or call, or send me stupid reels,” he points out with an embarrassed grunt, standing up to his full height and running a hand through his hair. “thought you were pissed at me for beating you in monopoly or something.”

huffing, you grin up at him. “you didn’t have to bring that up, jerk. but no, as you can see,” you gesture to your table and he notices the splotches and lines of dried ink on your fingers from your pen. “i’ve been studying. or trying to, at least.”

“huh.” he lets out, grasping your hand in his and intertwining your fingers before untangling them again so he could toy around with them. his brows furrow and he scoffs when you continue, saying something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you’d notice.’ “yeah, well, i noticed. i dunno. kinda hard to miss the zero texts from the only person i reply to, yeah?”

your eyes brighten at that, but you tease, “ohh, yeah, right. sorry, i forgot you’re a friendless loser.”

“look who’s talking,” he shoots back, and you’d almost be offended if it wasn’t for the playful look in his eyes. he sighs and dips his head to press a kiss to your temple before walking over to the closet.

“were you really sad that i didn’t send you stupid reels?” you ask him with a curious look while watching him pick out a random t-shirt and sweats, not making fun of him like you’d usually do, just genuine curiousity in your tone.

he hums in response, undoing a few buttons of his shirt before tugging it off his head and glancing at you, with his teal eyes narrowed in contemplation, shirt still hanging around his elbows. “guess so. ’s stupid, huh?”

“nah,” is your immediate reply, followed by a small shrug. “i think it’s sweet, actually. in a pathetic sort of way. you’re kinda sweet.”

during his 10-minute break from training the next day, he finds himself on the bench of the locker room, resting his aching legs with his half empty water bottle next to him as he’s scrolling through your dms with a soft smile. a shit ton of reels and one ‘good luck at practice!!’ message stares back at him.

yeah. he thinks you’re (kinda) sweet too.

[dearlenore]

YOU NEVER ASKED • S.REID

SUMMARY: when the team requests additional funding from Strauss to upgrade their equipment due to multiple accidents related to their function, you reveal a secret they never would’ve guessed. Over the weeks following they

PAIRING: bau!reader x spencer

tags: cold!reader, established relationship, sugarbaby!spencer, rich reader, needy clingy spencer (even at work),

a/n: this was a request btw thru dm!! If you make a dm request it might take longer or less time entirely depending on if you’ve reposted my work before and I know you or your work and how interesting ur request is, sorry!! My brain is so scrambled

w/c: 1.1K

THE FIRST TIME your co workers saw the extent of your wealth was on a fairly ordinary day.

Spencer’s hand was wrapped around yours under the table.

It wasn’t unusual—Spencer always had to be touching you, whether it was a lingering brush of fingers, his arm slung around your waist, or his head resting against your shoulder after a long day. He wasn’t possessive, just clingy in a way that you had long since accepted, and honestly, found endearing.

Right now, his fingers were loosely laced with yours, thumb brushing absentminded circles against your skin as the team sat in the conference room, focused on a discussion with Strauss.

You were only half-listening. As the BAU’s new liaison, you had to be present for meetings like this, but the budget discussion wasn’t exactly riveting.

“We understand the financial constraints,” Hotch was saying, his voice level as he addressed Strauss, “but this is a necessary expense. We’ve had three major equipment failures in the past month alone.”

Morgan leaned forward. “Two of those put agents at risk. We got lucky, but next time? Maybe we won’t.”

Strauss sighed, clearly unimpressed but unwilling to outright deny the request. “The Bureau’s budget is already stretched thin. I’ll bring this to the director, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be approved.”

Without much thought, you spoke. “I’ll take care of it.”

The room went quiet.

Strauss blinked, turning her attention toward you. “Excuse me?”

You scrolled through something on your phone, barely looking up. “I’ll cover the cost. Just send me the final amount, and I’ll handle it.”

There was a brief pause before Morgan spoke. “You’re serious?”

You glanced at him, almost confused. “Yes.”

JJ, seated across from you, furrowed her brow. “That’s not exactly a small amount.”

“I know.”

Emily tilted her head slightly. “And you can just… do that?”

You finally set your phone down. “Mhm.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I gotta ask—how?”

Spencer, beside you, stiffened slightly. His grip on your hand didn’t loosen, but you could feel the tension in his posture.

You sighed, as if this was mildly inconvenient rather than a massive revelation. “My parents have money.”

Hotch studied you. “How much money?”

You exhaled, tilting your head slightly. “Enough.”

Garcia adjusted her glasses. “Okay, but what does that mean? Are we talking ‘nice house in the suburbs’ rich or—”

Spencer finally spoke, voice quiet but firm. “…they’re from a long line of friends Ivy league founders”

That sent another wave of silence through the room.

Morgan let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Emily smirked. “That does explain a lot.”

JJ shook her head, laughing. “And you never mentioned this before because…?”

You shrugged. “It’s not relevant.”

Garcia looked vaguely betrayed. “Not relevant? Not relevant? You have generational wealth, and you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”

You gave her a flat look. “Would it have changed anything?”

She opened her mouth, then hesitated. “…Okay, maybe not, but still!”

Rossi, who had been listening with mild amusement, finally spoke. “If you’re willing to fund the upgrades, I don’t see why we’d turn it down.”

You nodded. “Just let me know the amount.”

Strauss, looking slightly thrown but not displeased, simply nodded. “I’ll coordinate with the Bureau’s finance department.”

With that, the discussion moved on and everyone but you and Spencer left the conference room.

Spencer, who had been silent throughout the latter half of the conversation, finally exhaled, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

You turned to him, lips twitching. “You okay?”

He huffed quietly, glancing at you. “You could’ve given me a heads-up.”

“Mhm, but what’s the fun in that?” You cooed before kissing his nose sweetly

The second time was when they caught you pampering your hopelessly adorable boyfriend.

Okay well… for the record.

Spencer Reid was not spoiled.

At least, that’s what he told himself. And everyone else.

Sure, his coffee appeared on his desk every morning, still piping hot from the overpriced café down the street. And yes, his wardrobe had significantly improved over the past few months—his old, slightly ill-fitting sweaters replaced with custom-tailored cashmere ones that felt suspiciously nice against his skin.

And maybe the watch on his wrist was worth more than the entirety of his apartment’s furniture.

But he wasn’t spoiled. Not at all.

The rest of the team, however, seemed to have reached a different conclusion.

“You know, pretty boy,” Morgan drawled, leaning against Spencer’s desk with a smirk, “I never pegged you as the type to have a personal assistant.”

Spencer frowned, looking up from his paperwork. “What?”

Morgan nodded toward the cup of coffee sitting on Spencer’s desk. “That your usual delivery?”

Spencer sighed, setting his pen down. “It’s just coffee.”

“From a place that charges twenty bucks for a latte,” Emily added, appearing behind Morgan with a grin.

Spencer huffed. “It’s not twenty dollars.”

“No, but it’s close,” JJ teased, leaning against the desk beside Morgan.

Spencer opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, the sound of approaching footsteps caught everyone’s attention.

You walked into the bullpen, a small bag in hand, and made a beeline straight for Spencer’s desk.

“Hey,” you greeted, dropping the bag onto his desk before pressing a quick kiss to his temple. “Lunch.”

Spencer’s lips twitched in a smile as he peered inside the bag. His favorite Italian , a side of fruit, and—he pulled out the container—homemade cookies from the expensive French bakery he loved.

His heart swelled.

“Thank you,” he murmured, glancing up at you with something bordering on pure adoration.

You just smiled. “Of course.”

Morgan, JJ, and Emily exchanged a look before Morgan spoke. “Okay, I have to ask—how often does this happen?”

You tilted your head. “How often does what happen?”

“This.” He gestured to the coffee, the lunch, everything. “Bringing him food, buying him clothes—spoiling him.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call it spoiling.”

Emily scoffed. “Oh, it definitely is.”

Spencer crossed his arms, shifting slightly in his seat. “I am not spoiled.”

JJ smirked. “Reid, when was the last time you paid for your own coffee?”

Spencer hesitated.

Morgan grinned. “Exactly.”

You chuckled, crossing your arms. “What, am I not allowed to take care of my boyfriend?”

“Oh, you definitely are,” Emily said. “It’s just funny watching him try to pretend he’s not completely pampered.”

Spencer huffed. “I am not—”

“Pretty boy, you don’t even drive anymore.”

Spencer scowled. “That’s just practical. Why should I drive when I can be chauffeured—” He stopped, realizing his mistake immediately.

Morgan grinned. “Chauffeured?”

Emily outright laughed. “Oh, that’s rich.”

Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate all of you.”

JJ patted his shoulder. “No, you don’t.”

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s okay, baby. Let them tease.”

Spencer groaned, but his cheeks were already tinged pink.

Yeah. He was never going to live this down.

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Triumvirate 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, abuse by parental figure, kidnap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Based on this.

Summary: Three men take you away from an unhappy life.

Characters: destroyer Chris, Captain Syverson, Curtis Everett.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t

The tearing in your roots makes you whine. Your mom twists until your scalp feels ready to split, dragging you down the hall as she snarls. He pushes open the screen door and hurls you out with every ounce of spite. You stumble down the crooked steps and land in the dirt. 

“You no good fucking bitch,” she spits beside you. “How many times I gotta tell you to get out!” 

You turn over and look up at her. She snarls and puffs like a rabid beast. Her glare scalds. She hates you so much. She always has. 

She slams the screen door, then the inside one. You sit up and fix the backless sneakers on your feet. You check the scrapes on your knees and sigh. It’s not the first time, it won’t be the last time. 

How could you know she had someone over? You didn’t hear them. You thought she’d be happy to see the dishes done but that chore only riled her. She broke three plates before she latched onto you. Scratches blaze on your head. 

You get up and look across the street. Leah watches from her front porch, shaking her head as she puffs on a menthol. No one does anything. They only judge. Around here, it’s not exactly unusual. 

Your purse is inside, your phone too. Shoot. You’ll have to wait her out. Whoever she’s got in her room probably gave her some pills. She’ll be out of it soon. 

You’re not proud of that thought. You should be concerned. You used to be. Now you just accept what she is. You rely on it. Her addiction keeps her weak; keeps her from hurting you worse. 

You turn and trod along the street. You could go down to the corner shop and ask Darren to spot you a gatorade. He’s usually pretty understanding. He knows your mom and that you always come to pay for whatever she wanders out with. 

Twenty-one years. It doesn’t feel that long, yet it’s still an eternity. Things never change, they only get worse. Your mom’s hair turns gray and the lines in her face get deeper and her speech more slurred. You only get weaker, more tired, more passive. It’s just the way is. Why fight? Fighting only gets you hurt. 

A truck rolls by and the tires dust up dirt. You cough at the tan paint above the silver bumper. You watch the exhaust chuff out down the street and veer around the corner, just past the corner shop. 

You approach the Penny Mart and shield your eyes against the sun. The truck idles further down the street. You shrug and continue inside. 

Darren pop gum between his teeth. You wave and head for the fridges. You take out a red gatorade and come back to the counter. 

“Can I come back later?” You ask. “Mom locked me out again.” 

He gnaws on the gum and shakes his head, “uh uh.” 

“Oh?” The door chimes as another customer enters. “You know I’m good for it.” 

“Manny says no,” he shrugs. “Your mom threw a box of cereal at him.” 

“She... did?” You’re overly aware of the man behind. He clears his throat. “Alright then, guess I’ll put this back.” 

“Well, you know... I could bend the rules,” he smirks and winks. “Come in the back...” 

You grimace. “I’ll put it back.” 

You turn and march away, skin crawling at his suggestion. It’s not the first time but for him to do it in front of someone else, that’s humiliating. You open the fridge as the man steps up to the counter. 

“I’ll take a pack of lites and twenty on the pump. Throw in a red gatorade,” he says. 

You shut the door and drag your feet across the unmopped tile. This place matches the neighbourhood. You’re sure the prices help distract from the expiry dates, too. 

Footsteps circle around the shelves. The fridge opens. A whistle keeps you from leaving. “Girl, come get your drink.” 

You stop and turn to face the man. His head is shaved close but he sports a thick goatee. He wears a sleeveless flannel, the peek of a chain shimmering around his neck. 

“Um, me?” 

“Come on,” he beckons you. “Hot day out.” 

You hesitate and cross the store. People aren’t all rotten around here. Mrs. Haggin fed you more times than you can count and Ted let you hang around his garage on the hotter days. Still, strangers aren’t common and aren’t often friendly. 

“Thanks, uh, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Two bucks,” he clucks. 

“Right.” 

Two bucks you don’t have. Pathetic. He holds the door open and you retrieve the same bottle of Gatorade. 

“Thanks again,” you say. 

“Never know. One day, someone might help me out,” he sniffs. 

He lets the door fall shut. You turn and walk away. He follows. You have a bad feeling as he stays close. He pushes the door open above your shoulder before you can. 

Stupid. He probably expects the same thing Darren wanted. You step out and to the side. 

“I can’t pay you back,” you offer the bottle. 

“Keep it,” he waves you off and drops off the pavement ledge onto the tarmac. “Have a good one.” 

“Oh, uh...” 

He walks away. Not a look back at you. You watch him approach the truck by the pumps. Tan with a silver bumper. They must’ve needed the top-up. 

You kick off the curb and drag your feet away. You’ll go down to the park and find a table in the shade. It’s swelter. The sun beats down on you mercilessly. 

You peel away the wrapper and twist the nozzle on the bottle. You drink thirstily as you step on the cracks in the pavement. ‘Step on a crack, break your mother’s back...’ 

The truck rumbles back at the shop and you hear it rolling toward you. It passes slowly and you pretend to examine the label of the bottle. As nice as it was, you’re not stupid. It’s pity. Everyone feels bad for you, but they don’t really care. 

You follow the trail through the tall grasses behind the condemned donut shop down to Smith’s Park. It’s not much of one. Mosquitoes buzz over a pond not much bigger than a puddle, tadpoles swirling in the shallows, and the trees sway over splintering benches and rotting picnic tables. 

You sit and suck on the bottle. Couple of hours and you can go home. Home... not really where you belong, just always where you’ve been. 

The brush rustles but you don’t pay any mind to it. There are coyotes around here but they’re skittish. Squirrels too but you don’t have much for them to steal. 

You put your elbows on the table and peel off the label on the bottle as the condensation soaks through. You lay it out flat on the wood. The dingy smell of the neglected boards clings in the air. 

A twig snaps. You look up as a shadow passes between the bushes. Some kids will come down to catch tadpoles. You did when you were young. Your mom dumped the toads down the toilet once they grew.  

Another crack. You twitch and look over your shoulder. You grip the bottle and turn straight. Your voice catches as you’re face with an unexpected best. A man in a ski mask. 

It’s so absurd, you think it’s a joke. Some of the hunters like to mess around but this isn’t the area for them. It’s not thick enough. They go up north. 

He’s big. The epitome of burly. He wears a grey tee shirt damp with sweat and cargo pants. He stares at you through the slits of his mask. 

“Um,” you stand. “Sorry, I was just...” 

You step over the bench and turn to head back down the trail. There’s another man. He’s in all black. He must be melting in this heat. You reel back. 

“Oh...” the back of your knees hit the bench. “I think...” you sidle along. “I’ll just...” 

You turn and run towards the thicket of wiry bushes. Before you can reach them, another man in another mask pops out. He wears a sleeveless flannel... 

You throw the gatorade at him and spin back. You’re caught by the other two men. 

“Shhh,” the one behind you hushes. 

You struggle with them, kicking the dirty, writhing as they twist your arms behind you. The man at your back secures your wrists together as the peel of duct tape tears through the hum of insects. 

“Please, who are you? Stop!” You whine. This can’t be happening. What the hell is this? 

The man in black keeps hold of your upper arm and signals with his other hand. A cloth covers your eyes. You whimper as it’s knotted behind your head. Another is shoved into your mouth. You gag. You’re shushed again. 

“It’s alright, darlin’,” you think the bigger man says. It comes from his direction as the man behind you pets your hair. “We ain’t gonna hurt you.” 

“Quiet,” another warns. “Get her legs.” 

You fight to evade their grasp blindly. You kick out and your ankles are seized and forced together. The duct tape winds around your ankles. 

Your eyes water behind the cloth. It’s more than fear, it’s realisation. You’re not going to go home, but worse, you don’t think anyone will care. They won’t even notice. 

You babble around the fabric in your mouth. You choke as you’re taken off your feet, carried between two men like luggage. You’re just a thing. Why is this happening to you? 

You squirm and shake, trying to break away from the arms hooked around your torso and legs. A hinge creaks, a car door, then another metallic whine. No, it’s not a car.  

You’re loaded into the truck bed and strapped down to the ridge metal. You blink as your eyes burn. You quiver in horror as you sense a deep darkness cast over you and the truck lurches. The door of the bed snaps shut and closes you in. 

Weight shifts in the axel as the muffled noise of the doors opening seep through. You whimper as the engine rumbles to life. You try to roll one way or the other. You can’t. 

The way they worked, so methodical, it assures you that there is no escape. There’s no loophole for you to find. You’re stuck. That suffocating realisation constricts in your chest. No, no, no. It can’t be real. 

You shudder and replay the scene in your head. It happened so fast yet as you relive it, it feels like slow motion. The large man, the man in black, the third one in his...sleeveless flannel. 

The cloying flavour of sugary electrolytes stick to your tongue. You shudder. The man in the store. He followed you? Why? 

Think about it. What did he see? A woman with no money. A woman alone. A woman wandering off into the shadows. 

How stupid. You would never expect it. Never think that anyone would bother. You always just stay out of the way and no one bothers you. Only Darren and his gross leers. Only Rob next door when his wife’s not talking to him. 

The truck bounces over the road. You can hear the other cars around you as they head into the city. Right through the mid-afternoon rush. How many people are driving by completely unaware of you hidden in the back. 

The pit in your stomach deepens and you whine. You try to scream. You can’t. You try to kick. You can’t. 

These men are taking you who knows where to do things you can’t imagine and there’s no one coming to save you. Just like no one ever came to save you from your mom. 

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Emmrich (and also the Necropolis, Nevarra and other related things) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Emmrich:

Family and early life:

“Volkarin” is a commoner’s name. Emmrich’s father was a butcher, and his mother was a cook 

When Emmrich was around 5 years old, his neighbours had a pig named Lucy. He was very fond of her, and she’d always let him hug her around his neck

Emmrich grew up poor (clocked by Neve based on the way he always saves his candle stubs, shows up first for meals and never leaves food on his plate) 

Emmrich grew up hearing that all dragons were so hostile they had to be slain and is surprised that Taash has found ways to deal with them peacefully 

General:

The gold Emmrich’ wears is called “grave-dowry” (or “grave gold”). It’s a Nevarran custom to wear precious objects one would like to take to their grave

Emmrich’s bracelet (not specified which one) was gifted to him on the day he became a full Watcher. The ring with a large stone was the last gift from his father. The skull pin doesn’t have a story, he just likes it

Emmrich isn’t fond of the Nevarran nobility

Emmrich’s shaving cream smells like potash (at least to Taash)

Emmrich uses moss perfume with flowers

Decades ago, Emmrich used to see an Orlesian woman who was an art appraiser

If Emmrich wasn’t a watcher, he would like to be a botanist

Emmrich displays some interest in Ferelden, mentioning that many of its heroes greatly shaped the history. Harding says that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about her homeland

Emmrich doesn't like beer because it's bitter

Emmrich prefers tea (he mentions purchasing a Brynnlaw curled-leaf blend in Nevarra), but he can also drink coffee 

Emmrich doesn’t eat meat (seafood and insects included), but he indulges in cheese. It seems to be a Watcher thing - he says that each Watcher must decide what they will and won't take a life for, and meat crosses that line for him

Emmrich likes melons, mushrooms and pineapples. He also enjoyed a plate of fried leeks and potatoes at Halos’s stand in Minrathous

Emmrich always thought he’d get married one day

After a Minrathous merchant sells Emmrich fake charms, he causes him to see skeletal faces on the windows and hear spirits whispering that false goods endanger lives as punishment. Emmrich agrees to stop once Neve tells him that she can convince the merchant to get back to selling linen if the visions cease

On magic and studies:

Some deaths may leave emotional imprints so intense Emmrich may feel them decades later 

Emmrich thinks the magic of old Elven artefacts is “rigid” 

Emmrich isn’t very good at figuring out Elven artefacts (by his own admission)

Emmrich’s first published work was A Monograph on the Vagaries of Determining a Body's Time of Death

Emmrich is roughly familiar with the dragon anatomy

Emmrich knows a lot about how bodies work (muscle-wise etc.) from the time he performed autopsies 

Watchers study the death practices of other cultures. Emmrich knew about Eb-ketarra and the Rivaini traditions even before Taash performs them at the end of their questline

On life in the Necropolis: 

When Emmrich fell for another boy during his youth, he showed him a corpse he was allowed to practice dissection on. The date was ruined by a passing wisp possessing the body and causing it to sit up and ruin the mood 

Emmrich tutored Dorian during his term in the Necropolis (“Tremendous potential, but appallingly flippant towards the dead”)

Emmrich and other watchers live in the Necropolis (Emmrich has a flat there)

On life at the Lighthouse:

It took 8 skeletons half a day to bring that slab of marble into Emmrich’s room

He didn’t bring his entire collection of books to the Lighthouse (there are more)

Emmrich talks to skulls in his room 

Lighthouse kitchen reminds Emmrich of the mortuary

Relationships with companions:

Emmrich offers to introduce Bellara to Audric, the Necropolis librarian (who appeared in Tevinter Nights’ Down Among the Dead Men)

Emmrich calls the Archive spirit a work of art  

Emmrich and Davrin disagree on parenting methods. Emmrich thinks Davrin should better discipline Assan and teach him boundaries, while Davrin suggest Emmrich should let Manfred learn more on his own (e.g. let him fall so he learns how to get up) 

Emmrich turns to Neve when he needs help acquiring some reagents he can't get his hands through normal ones, and she agrees to help him out (smuggling is involved)

Emmrich isn’t too thrilled about Neve taking over the Threads, questioning of what’s going to become with the organisation and the future and thinking it may become corrupt (sort of mirroring the way Neve is apprehensive about his lichdom) 

Taash likes Emmrich’s lich helmet. They are not usually fond of skulls, but that helmet is fine because it’s on fire

Taash thinks that gemstones like amethyst or green opal would look good with the lich helmet

Emmrich doesn’t seem to like unrealistic books as he criticised Harding’s “Gore-Knight” novels for their incorrect interpretation of magic. He is worried about people misunderstanding magic and spirits

Emmrich calls himself Harding's 'de facto physician'

On Manfred: 

(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Manfred brings Neve tea by his own volition. Emmrich thinks it's because Manfred sensed she might need a friend

Manfred is as aware of his surroundings as most people (to a certain degree)

(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred learns to say Emmrich’s name 

(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred becomes much more talkative 

Manfred likes boiling tea because he is fascinated by steam

Emmrich suggests Manfred tries tending to plants in Harding's garden 

Manfred is curious about Spite and wanders into Lucanis’s room at night

Spite and Assan miss Manfred if he’s gone

On Lichdom:

Emmrich smells fine to Taash even after he becomes a lich 

Emmrich’s lich helmet burns with veilfire. He once tried using it in combat, but the flame ended up blinding him

Emmrich thinks Strife would no longer be interested in a relationship after he becomes a Lich. That doesn't prove to be true

Lich!Emmrich doesn't need to eat but still comes by the kitchen for company

The energy of Emmrich’s magic changed after he became a lich

Other liches call lich!Emmrich “Young Volkarin” 

Lich!Emmrich no longer has muscles, but when he tries out Taash’s pull-up routine, he can still feel something like “a spectral memory of flesh”, as if he had pulled a tendon

Emmrich starts seeing more books in the Lighthouse library after becoming a linch

About spirit, demons, and the Necropolis: 

There are spirits of Temperance and Diligence 

The Watchers avoid using the word “demon” because it creates bad expectations and can negatively influence spirits 

Some in the Mourn Watch suspected that elves originated from spirits, though it was just one of many theories, and not a particularly popular one

Chambers in the Necropolis can go missing (according to MW!Rook, they turn up, eventually)  

Even after the despair demon is banished from the Necropolis, the halls remain cold. However, the effects will abate with time

There are horses on display in the Necropolis

Watchers rarely get possessed thanks to the special wards of the Necropolis. Possessions also don’t happen as often because the necromancers already provide spirits with bodies, so they don't need to possess anyone by force

Bellara calls the background magic of Necropolis tidy and quiet

There something called “The Deep Necropolis” featuring sections like “The Unspoken Valley” and “The Charnel Bridge” (which has something called “nightmare fog”) that hosts all kinds of entities. Bellara is very excited to visit once the nightmare fog clears

Vorgoth ensures that the transgressions of those who use magical to cruel and abusive means will not be tolerated (whatever that means)

About Nevarra:

Many great Nevarran artefacts have been lost to time, including the Skull of Sabinar, the Key of Dead Dreamers, and the Crown of the Moon

There are strict rules about selling enchantments in Nevarra. You can’t sell anything without a licence and an inspection from the mage Circles

A Tevinter poem “Faustina's Song”, a romantic epic from the Steel Age, is very popular in Nevarra, and its quotes are used on ‘more than one’ epitaph in the Necropolis. Neve is surprised people even read it outside Tevinter 

Pineapples don’t grow in Nevarra

[tangerineastronaut]

can you do how they would be when your pregnant ot8

ATEEZ during your pregnancy ❤︎ ot8

Pairing: ot8 headcanons Genre: fluff, mentions of smut Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: pregnancy discussion, talk, sexual bits (not a whole lot of smut I promise) A/N: This took a surprisingly long amount of time I'm sorry!! I'm not sure if you meant ateez or not, I assumed so since that's what I've been posting recently. If not please send me an ask and I will do this for another group! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Taglist: @baby-stay92 @cozypaint If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please DM me or click here.

🔞Content Below the Break🔞

Hongjoong

The absolute worst (best)

Scolds you for "doing too much" aka walking up the stairs or picking up a gallon of milk.

Buys you the most expensive brand of prenatal vitamins despite your doctor insisting the cheap ones are fine

Checks on you via text every hour when he's not with you

^ and when he is with you

Is lowkey afraid of failure as a father, reads parenting articles

Sends you decaf coffee at work

Wants to feel your belly but won't unless you invite him to

Teary eyed when he feels the baby kick for the first time

Sampled the heartbeat at the ultrasound visit to use in a song

Writes letters to you and the baby and keeps them in a memory book for you to read later (but you don't know this)

Nursery is fully decked out and the baby already has a full wardrobe

Your crying makes him panic, he hates seeing you cry and will frantically try to soothe you every time

Is grossed out by your cravings but will get them for you anyway—why do you have to crave vegetables?

Sex is soft and lazy in the best way

Side sex (think sunday morning sex except any day) >>>

Like imagine his chest against your back, his cheek against yours, one of his hands keeping your leg up so he has room to fuck you, asking if it feels good and if you're comfortable, except he's kind of whining and breathless ~

No pregnancy kink but thinks you're breathtaking, as always

^ even when you haven't showered, your legs are hairy, etc. He thinks you're a work of art

Plays music for you and the baby, asks what he/she responds to and makes note of it

Overprotective, does not like it when people touch you in general, let alone when you're pregnant

Visibly dies inside every time someone's hand goes to your belly without asking you first—would scold people if you'd let him

Posts photos of you each month documenting your pregnancy and leaving a words of appreciation for you

Keeps a copy of the ultrasound photo with him

May not have his hands on you 24/7, but he makes sure you know you're loved as well as the baby

Seonghwa

So freaking soft for you both

Loves babies anyway but your baby??

Him leaning against the headboard so you can lean against him, he'll curl his arms around you and rub your belly while you talk

Talks to the baby, even when you're asleep

"I can feel you kicking in there. Let's let mommy sleep, hm? She gets cranky at daddy when she's tired."

Watches parenting videos

Loves showering with you since you can't take baths

When you joke that there's not much room anymore he'll say he knows that and pulls you closer

Shaves your legs for you when it gets too difficult, even if you're too shy to ask him

Buys you gifts every time he gets something for the baby

"The mom group says it's important for me to make you feel as loved and wanted as the baby."

^ has joined mom groups on social media, because "dad groups are just full of men complaining"

Calls him/her 'the little one'

"How are you? How was the little one today?"

Isn't overprotective but has moments when he hovers

You don't mind

Sex is always slow and full of giggles and him reassuring you when you're out of breath

He likes you on your back so he can kiss you and keep pressure off of you, arms on either side of you to support his weight

Likes taking naps with you even though you're always napping due to exhaustion

^ rarely actually sleeps, just wants to be near you and the baby

Knows your cravings by heart

"Pickle juice and french fries? That's a new one."

His nesting is as bad as yours if not worse; you both frantically clean the house months before the baby arrives

Loves when you send him selfies/belly pics

Isn't fazed by your emotions, helps you work through them and validates you

"Being pregnant doesn't mean you aren't allowed to have feelings, pretty girl. I'm here."

Yunho

Probably the most excited externally

Loves rubbing your belly and watching the baby kick his hand

Unironically purchased the "I'm proof daddy doesn't play video games all the time" onesie

Brings you ice cream even if you don't ask for it

"I'm telepathically linked with our baby, he/she said they want ice cream. I don't make the rules, y/n."

p r e g n a n c y k i n k

"Look at you, so fucking pretty and full."

Sex is unbelievably gentle despite his filthy words

Won't put you on your back, likes to have you in his lap so he can do all the work

Likes taking you out and showing you off, even when you feel like a mess

Posts pictures of you constantly to the point where people joke he's running a y/n maternity account

Foot rubs

Sympathy pains

"Our heartburn is bad today. I want a cinnamon roll. With sprinkles."

Teases you relentlessly

"I'll race you to the kitchen—oh yeah."

Handsy af but you don't mind

Walks up behind you to hold your belly

Sits up at night to rub it when the baby won't settle

He/she loves Yunho's voice and they begin kicking when he speaks

^ he uses this to his advantage

"Mommy's calling herself ugly again, I'm gonna need some backup from my internal ally."

Already 2 v 1 and the thing isn't even here yet

His google search history is worse than yours

^ "can pregnant women eat carrots"

"how long does pregnancy really last"

"how to make pregnant woman stop crying"

"why is my pregnant girlfriend crying"

"why am I crying"

"how to stop crying when your pregnant girlfriend cries"

Loves when people ooh and awe over you; beams and grins like an idiot bc you're his and he put the baby in you.

Yeosang

Seems calm

Is not calm

Is just as protective/concerned as Hongjoong but is so quiet about it you don't even notice

You haven't lifted a grocery bag since he found out about your pregnancy

Has the dates of your appointments memorized

No one touches the belly. He doesn't even say anything to anyone. They just don't.

Does little things to make sure you're extra comfortable, bought you a pregnancy pillow

Whispers to your belly

^ "I'm afraid my voice will scare the baby. I'll just whisper."

Pouts if the baby won't kick for him

You: "Please, Yeosang, for the millionth time fetuses cannot choose favorites! Our baby loves you, I promise!"

King of pregnancy cravings

2 a.m. runs to the convenience store because you want some strawberry milk

Forehead kisses with a hand on your belly >>>

Will literally get on his knees for a chat with him/her

Like imagine looking down and seeing this man smiling up at you, both hands on your tummy with so much love in his eyes I just—

His calm facade dissolves when you cry

It physically hurts him to see you break down and he will do all he can to help you

Talks about you nonstop and your symptoms, experiences, etc literally to anyone with ears

Signs you both up for a parenting class

Cannot believe how horny you are, but is happy to help

^ a little afraid of you tbh but still very much in love

Like Hongjoong, prefers side sex so he can still be close to you

Also loves foreplay/eating you out even more now because of how sensitive you are

Ultrasound visits/pics make him choked up though he tries to hide it

His brain has not processed the fact that his baby is literally inside of you

It isn't going to fully sink in until there's a baby in his arms

^ is never going to put him/her down

San

Proud Dad™

Is excited, but calm

Similar to Yeosang but not as intense

^ still protective, but doesn't mind when people touch your belly as long as they ask first

Buys two copies of baby books for you both to read at the same time

Posts pictures of your pregnancy journey with quotes or long paragraphs about how beautiful you are

lowkey pregnancy kink?

Cautious

Armchair sex/you in his lap - super slow and soft

Loves showering with you after to hold you and massage your back/shoulders

Doesn't necessarily treat you like you'll break but is still very gentle with you

Hugs are softer, he doesn't squeeze as tight, likes to hug you from behind and look over you to see what you're doing

Touches your belly in a reassuring way, likes to brush his hand against it and feel the baby's reaction

Does it in public probably the most of the members, though it's not really intentional

His hands used to go to your waist and now they go to your bump ~

Doesn't talk to the baby as much as he sings to him/her

Is way too excited to take maternity photos

Gets caught staring at you by literally everyone

Does not care

Thinks you hung the stars

Loooooves being snuggled in bed with you with your bump between you, rubbing your belly and whispering as though the baby is sleeping

Is very expressive about his fears/doubts and wants you to be as well

Blushes when people call him daddy

Blushes harder when you call him daddy

Pretty calm when it comes to your emotions, will just go with the flow and give you what you need, whether that's space, affection, or food

secretly hopes you want another one

Mingi

When I tell you this man is terrified

Does not think he can care for a baby despite your reassurance

Asks all the questions

"I mean, how do we know when it's done? You know, like, cooked all the way?"

Oddly protective despite his fears

Does not like anyone touching your belly

Any time someone comments on your size/roundness/etc he's ready to throw hands, does not care if it's the ajumma two doors down from you

You: "Mingi for the love of god, I have told you, you cannot threaten people."

"She threatened you first!"

You: "She just said I look ready to pop??"

Horny af and has a pregnancy kink but will not initiate sex

You have to beg, and even then it's like ~

"No I mean just stand there, and I'll hold you and put it in. Yeah don't move at all."

Will still eat you out daily

Treats you like a glass doll

Belly kisses >>>>>

Buys baby books, gets one page in and declares this is too much to remember and you both should get a refund

^ shrugs at your look of horror "obviously I meant a refund for the books..."

Raps??? at your belly? Like nursery rhyme raps????

Also talks. A lot. Not cooing or baby talk

"Today at practice I slipped and it sucked, kinda hurt my knee. I'm still a good dancer, definitely better than Yunho. I'll show you. But I mean like after you can walk and stuff, or maybe you'll dance before you can walk and we can win money or something. Do they have baby dance competitions?"

Doesn't post the pictures he takes of you and your belly, looks at them when he misses you and won't let anyone else see them

Unironically refers to himself as your baby daddy and changes his contact in your phone [proudly]

When you cry, he cries, so please don't cry

Asks if he can attend his own child's birth

^ is excited when you say "...yes, Mingi. You can attend the birth of our child."

Wooyoung

Knows all there is to know about babies??

Is not concerned at all

Reassures you constantly

You ask him questions

Will lay on your thighs and absentmindedly rub your belly while watching tv or scrolling on his phone

Actually, will rub your belly anywhere, and usually does it without realizing it

Refers to you as mama and himself as dada even out of context

"Do you want a drink, mama?"

Is completely unfazed by your weird cravings and will get them for you as long as it's not harmful

"No, y/n, you cannot have sushi with your oreos. Mercury levels..."

Not overprotective in the slightest

Your biggest advocate

The only member who would fuck you properly while pregnant, as he knows it's safe within reason

Does not have a pregnancy kink, but loves how sensitive you are, the changes to your body, etc and thinks you're a goddess

Loves going shopping with you

Will absolutely argue with you over nursery themes

Finds you adorable when you're emotional, but will still try to calm you down and comfort you

Loves talking about you nonstop

May not praise you to your face as much as the others but tells everyone else he's so incredibly lucky to have you as the mother of his child

He was so clingy before

It's worse

His camera roll is full of selfies with him and your bump

Imagine woo making bunny ears over your belly (and telling your unborn child to say cheese)

Has full on conversations with him/her

Baby talks and coos and informs them they have the best parents ever

Jongho

Probably the most genuinely calm member when it comes to your pregnancy

Still very excited

Does not know as much as wooyoung but is fairly confident, not terrified or anxious like some of the others

Touches your belly from day 1, even without a bump

Sings and hums to it

The baby LOVES his voice and always kicks when he's near

He finds this adorable and loves talking to him/her while touching your stomach

Massages >>>>

Your pregnancy aches are afraid of him

Is a little shaken by your emotions but handles them well

Not too overprotective but really hates it when people touch you

Won't say anything though unless you're uncomfy

Sex?

Dear god

2ho breeding/pregnancy kink is my headcanon and I am sticking with it

Do not make eye contact for more than a few seconds

Is unbelievably horny for you

Doggy style with pillows underneath you >>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Is extra gentle despite how badly he wants you

Takes care of you first also ^ he knows it helps you relax so that's always his end goal

Loves the way you look while pregnant

Thinks you're beautiful anyway but something about the fact that you're literally creating a brand new human being

When you wear his t-shirts and nothing else because your clothes don't fit anymore it makes him melt ~

^ he complains for the fun of it but would probably cry if you stopped

Brings you snacks/drinks/whatever without you having to ask

Is willing to try your cravings with you as long as it's nothing vile (frito chips + peanut butter)

Wants to do every social media pregnancy trend with you

*buys your unborn child soccer cleats*

Doesn't post photos of you often but when he does, they're tearjerkers

Wants more kids but knows how difficult pregnancy/motherhood is so ultimately it's up to you

He's the cutest - kissing your temple while snuggling on the couch and rubbing your belly

"Our baby bear"

[cosmicalily]

12:21am with kim seungmin - a @cosmicalily timestamp

"i just wanna touch you babe but i can't take my clothes off, guess it’s kinda funny, if i think too long, i’ll cry about it. i just wanna fuck you babe but i can't take my clothes off, guess i’ll keep on dancing around it, 'round it, ooh!” - ‘clothes off’ by aleksiah

author’s note: this little drabble is pretty personal to me, something i haven't explored on tumblr before. i have a lot of anxiety around sexual intimacy, which i feel like isn't discussed that much in mainstream media. when the song 'clothes off' by aleksiah was released, i literally cried. i'd never found a song that just summed up all my feelings so perfectly. wanting it but not. feeling guilty. feeling needy. i hope you understand what i'm trying to convey, i love you all xx

warnings: insecurities (around sex and sexual intimacy)

You didn’t quite know how you’d ended up making out with your best friend, Seungmin.

Maybe it had been the cup of tea he’d made you, humming softly to himself as he boiled the water, adding exactly a spoonful and a half of honey, just the way he knew you liked it.

Maybe it had been the fact that just yesterday, he’d silently restocked the second drawer in your vanity where you kept your stash of period products that he’d noticed were running low.

Maybe it had been the lyrics that you’d found when you were vacuuming the house, stashed under his bed with your name written in the title.

But you knew it wasn’t a singular event. You’d fallen for him ages ago.

The tea was now cold, sitting to the side of the coffee table, half drunken. You didn’t really feel the need to drink it anymore, not when you could spend hours, hours that you’d longed for since forever, kissing the plump lips that had whispered so many sweet secrets into your ears mere minutes ago.

“I love you.”

“You’re perfect.”

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted this?”

“You’re the prettiest girl, you know that, yeah?”

“Wait,” you blurted, pulling your face away from Seungmin’s, out of breath. “I don’t . . . I don’t think I can. I don’t think I want to.”

Seungmin looked at you worriedly, moving his hands from your waist and sitting up straight. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s not you. I just . . .”

“It’s okay.”

He reached out for your hand, and you reluctantly gave it to him. He didn’t say anything for a bit, just rubbed soft circles into the back of your palm. Your breathing slowed. So did your heart rate.

“I don’t want you for sex,” he said eventually, staring out the window. The curtains were closed, but the moonlight melted through a little, casting a soft glow across his face. He was like the moon. Permanent and dependable and always there to watch over you.

Especially at night, when your thoughts became too much.

“Of course, if you wanted to have it, I wouldn’t be opposed,” he continued, turning to look at you. His hand shifted to gently brush a tear from your cheek. “But I want you because I want you. And if that means kissing and falling asleep, that’s what I want.”

“You’re not bored?” you mumbled, not quite meeting his eye.

“I could never be.”

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @heartsbyani @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger @woozarts @zelinkcrossing @urlocalmultigroupfan @shuuporanglinos @lezleeferguson-120 @r1nstaaa - dm, comment or send an ask to be added :)

[ducktoo]

How to take care of Jiwon

IVE's Liz x Reader

Note: Anon, hope this was something you were asking for (I think). Twas' a fun prompt and I enjoyed it frfr. Feel free to DM me ur thoughts!

(This German girl do be looking cute-)

“Again?”

You don’t even look up from your computer screen. You already know who it is.

There’s a quiet giggle, followed by the sound of someone shuffling through your things. You sigh, rubbing your temple before shooting a glare at the intruder currently invading your workspace—none other than Kim Jiwon(or Liz), your childhood friend turned global idol, standing beside your desk like she owns the place.

“Can you not touch my stuff?” you grumble, snatching a framed photo from her hands before she can get any ideas.

She blinks at you innocently. “You keep this here?”

You glance down at the picture, already knowing which one she’s referring to. It’s an old, slightly faded photo from elementary school—Liz, missing her two front teeth, flashing a peace sign, while you stand beside her with the grumpiest expression imaginable. You had never liked taking pictures, but Liz had insisted back then. Looking at it now, you don’t even remember why you agreed to keep it on your desk.

“It’s just decoration,” you mutter, setting it back down.

Liz hums, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes. “Sure, sure.”

She doesn’t leave. Of course, she doesn’t. You’re already used to this little routine.

Despite her packed schedule, Liz always finds time to drop by your office whenever she’s at the company. She claims it’s because she’s curious about what you do, but you know better. The real reason? She just enjoys annoying you.

She picks up your stationery, taps at your keyboard, sometimes even steals your coffee—because “staff coffee tastes different.” You tolerate it because, well… it’s Liz. You’ve known her since you were kids.

It’s still crazy how you both ended up here…especially after how you reunited.

-

To this day, you still don’t know how the hell that situation happened.

You had only been working at Starship Entertainment for about a month at that point. Just a regular staff member, trying not to get scolded, running around delivering paperwork, managing schedules—nothing out of the ordinary.

Then came that time.

One of your first bigger assignments had been to handle some logistics for IVE’s new comeback. Simple enough. Make sure the equipment was working, ensure the space was ready, help with any requests—it was routine.

What wasn’t routine was somehow ending up in a storage closet with a girl in a hoodie, a bucket of spilled cleaning supplies, and the worst case of déjà vu you’ve ever experienced.

…Let’s back up.

That day, you had been in a rush, carrying a stack of documents for the management team when you took a wrong turn down a hallway you didn’t usually use. It led to one of the storage rooms, where cleaning supplies and extra equipment were kept.

The door was slightly open.

Then, without warning—

CRASH.

Something—or someone—barreled right into you, sending both of you stumbling backwards into the closet.

The door slammed shut behind you.

Silence.

For a moment, you just laid there on the floor, trying to process the fact that you had just been body-slammed into a janitor’s closet. Your head throbbed. You could hear the faint creak of a mop falling somewhere nearby.

And then—

“…Wait. Grumpy?”

You froze.

That voice. That stupidly familiar voice.

Slowly, you looked up.

And there, crouched in the dim light, staring at you like she had just seen a ghost—was the one and only. Your childhood friend. The same girl you hadn’t seen in years.

In a janitor’s closet. With you.

What. The. Hell.

“…What are you doing here?” she asked, blinking rapidly.

You stared at her. “What are you doing around here in the management area?”

“I asked first!”

“I work here!”

That seemed to short-circuit her brain for a second. Her eyes widened, then darted to the staff ID clipped to your shirt. Slowly, realization dawned on her face.

“…You work at Starship?”

“Yes?!”

"Since when?!"

"Since I got hired, duh!"

Liz opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. She blinked.

Then—

She burst out laughing.

“You—You actually work here?” she wheezed, clutching her stomach. “Oh my God, this is unreal. This is so unreal.”

"Tsk." You scowled. “Glad to see my suffering is entertaining you.”

“I can’t believe this! We literally grew up together, lost contact, and now you’re working for my company? This is insane.” She wiped at her eyes, still laughing. “And—wait, you of all people? You always hated dealing with people!”

“Yeah, well, life’s funny like that,” you muttered. You rubbed your temples, exhaling through your nose. “Okay, but why were you sneaking around?”

Liz suddenly looked away, suspiciously avoiding eye contact. “No reason.”

“…You were stealing snacks from the staff area again, weren’t you?”

Silence.

“…Maybe.”

Unbelievable. Some things really never changed.

-

And that was how you reunited.

You had spent a solid fifteen minutes stuck in that closet with Liz before someone finally found you two. The rest of the staff had been utterly confused, and you had to endure Liz wheezing with laughter for the rest of the day.

Ever since then, she had made it her personal mission to annoy you at work.

Which brings you to now.

“Alright, stay put. Don’t touch anything,” you warn as you stand from your desk, stretching your arms before grabbing your phone. “I need to get some files from the storage room.”

Liz, perched on the edge of your desk like she owns the place, swings her legs lazily. “No promises.”

You narrow your eyes. “I mean it. Hands off.”

She hums innocently, lips curling into a playful smile. “Of course, of course.”

You don’t trust her one bit.

Still, you leave, because you have to, but you throw one last suspicious glance over your shoulder before stepping out.

The door clicks shut…and Liz immediately disregards your warning.

“Don’t touch anything,” she mocks under her breath, rolling her eyes. As if she could ever listen to that. "Bleh. What are you, my mom?"

She stretches her arms with a yawn, then lazily lets her fingers drift across your desk, poking at whatever looks mildly interesting. The keyboard? Tap. A stack of documents? Poke. Your half-empty coffee cup? Swirl.

And then she sees it.

A small, slightly worn notebook tucked beside your monitor, the corner peeking out as if daring her to take a look.

Curious, she pulls it free and flips it over in her hands. The second she reads the cover, her breath catches in her throat.

"How to Take Care of Jiwon the Annoying Child"

She blinks. Once. Twice.

Then, a slow, delighted smile spreads across her face.

“Oh?”

Her heart beats a little faster as she carefully flips the first page. The handwriting is neat—your handwriting. She skims over the lines, amusement bubbling in her chest.

Jiwon gets grumpy when she hasn’t eaten. Always have snacks on hand.

She giggles. “So that’s why you always have extra snacks.”

She flips to the next one.

She gets sleepy after eating too much. Don’t let her nap on the practice room floor. Would be annoying to tend to the sick Jiwon.

A small gasp escapes her lips. “Wait, is that why you always wake me up first?”

Another page.

If she’s sad, buy her ice cream. Preferably chocolate.

Her heart flutters. You really do notice everything, huh?

She keeps reading, her amusement growing. But then—

The notes start getting weirder.

If she starts humming randomly, she’s in a good mood. If she’s humming AND staring at me, she’s plotting something. Probably my usual dose of suffering.

Liz snorts. “What do you mean?”

DO NOT let her near a stray cat. She will try to take it home.

She gasps, clutching her chest. “That happened one time, trust me–”

If she says ‘Trust me,’ DO NOT TRUST HER.

Liz bursts into laughter. “Damn it! Okay, fair.”

The notes only get more ridiculous.

She once ate an entire cake by herself just to prove she could. Do NOT challenge her to food-related dares.

If she looks too smug, she probably stole my drink.

If she looks too cute and uses her dumb aegyo, she’s about to ask for a favour.

Her giggles come uncontrollably now. She flips through the pages quickly, eager to see what else you’ve written. But then—

The shift happens. The notes stop being ridiculous. They start being… something else.

When she’s nervous, she fidgets with her necklace. Let her hold onto my sleeve instead.

Her fingers touch her necklace instinctively. "Huh…you do wear long sleeves every time we meet…"

Liz acts tough, but she cries at sad movies. Keep tissues ready.

Her laughter softens. "No I don't…mostly…"

She overworks herself even when she’s exhausted. Sometimes she just needs someone to tell her to rest.

Her heart clenches.

And then, the last note. It might have been scribbled out but…She stares at it. She couldn't unsee it after once.

If she ever gets too tired, remind her she doesn’t have to do everything alone. Remind her that I’m here….

Her grip tightens on the notebook.

She rereads the words, once, twice—three times.

She always knew you cared. In your own way—grumbling, teasing, acting like she was the most annoying person in the world. But this? You had written this down. As if it was important. As if you wanted to remember, just in case.

As if she mattered.

Her chest feels warm.

The door creaks open.

“Alright, I got the—”

Your words cut off when you see her holding the notebook.

You freeze mid-step.

Liz is holding the notebook. Jiwon is reading the notebook.

Your stomach drops.

She looks up at you, notebook still clutched in her hands, her expression unreadable.

You stand there, the file folder limp in your grip.

Then, slowly, a mischievous glint appears in her eyes.

“You mother f—”

Before you can even lunge for it, Liz hugs the notebook to her chest, scrambling to her feet. Her breath comes out in an excited rush.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, eyes sparkling. “You do care about me!”

You feel actual panic set in. “PUT THAT DOWN. KIM JIWON.”

She takes a step back, holding it tighter. “No way! This is adorable! You—You actually wrote down how to take care of me?!”

You can feel your dignity slipping away.

“I— It’s not what it looks like—”

“Ohhh, let’s see what else—” She flips back to the earlier pages, reading aloud dramatically. “‘If she’s nervous, let her hold onto my sleeve instead.’”

Your ears burn as your hand subconsciously rolled up your sleeves in embarrassment.

"Oooohh, you're wearing long sleeve today as well, huh?!" Liz gasps, looking up at you with exaggerated shock. “You let me do that? Willingly?!”

You grit your teeth. “GIVE. IT. BACK.”

She twirls away, flipping through more pages. “Wait, wait—‘If she looks too smug, she probably stole my drink.’” She gasps in fake offense. “So that’s why you glare at me whenever I take a sip.”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Jiwon—”

She keeps going, eyes darting across the pages. But then—

She reaches the last note again.

Her laughter fades.

Silence stretches between you.

She rereads the words, her fingers brushing lightly over the ink. Then, slowly, she lifts her head.

The teasing glint in her eyes is gone. Instead, there’s something softer. Something more sincere.

“…You really meant this?” she asks, voice quieter.

You shift uncomfortably. “U-um…I—”

Her gaze lingers on you for a moment. Then, before you can react, she lunges at you again, but this time, she hugs you.

You stiffen immediately.

“…Ya.”

She squeezes you tighter.

“Shhh,” she mumbles into your shoulder. “Just let me hug you, you tsundere.”

You stand there, unmoving, ears burning. Your hands hover awkwardly before—finally—you sigh and pat her back.

“…You’re so annoying.”

She giggles against your shoulder. “I know.”

After a moment, she pulls back, grinning. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

You roll your eyes, snatching the notebook from her hands before she can react. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to serialise this and give it to your members.”

She beams. “That sounds fun actually.”

[msbyslilbimbo]

‼️MINORS DNI‼️

el oh el but pls imagine having sex with shidou and sae recording it, but like.

shidou has a muzzle on, because he’s a loud, bitey boy, and sae is so possessive he hates seeing anyone’s marks besides his own tainting your pretty skin- even if it’s shidou, who is literally his and your boyfriend- and every now and then in your haze, you feel the plastic bump into your clammy skin, and you hear shidou roar in anger.

“take this fuckin’ thing offa me, dickhead,” he growls.

“you haven’t earned the privilege to,” sae says simply. “when you’ve earned the right to be out of the muzzle, i’ll let you out, pup.”

theyre both so dominant, so rough, but sae will always hold the title of “dom” over shidou.

shidou’s big, beefy hands grip your waist sharp enough to leave indents with his nails, and he’s got you ass up on your knees while he pounds mercilessly into you, cock prodding your cervix with every thrust of his hips. the entire bed shifts and creaks as he rocks into you, reeling his hips fully back before using all the force he can muster to slam back into you. your entire body moves with him, and your thighs burn from keeping your hips so high in the air, your only saving grace being your chest and face are smushed into the mattress, drool and tears staining the already dark ruby comforter.

your body trembles. the heat between all three bodies makes you writhe and stir. your pussy throbs around shidou’s girthy dick, juices spilling from your hole causing a froth that splatters against your ass with every pound he gives you.

all the while, sae is on his knees just a few inches away, close enough to touch but too far for your jellied limbs to reach out for, which makes you whine. he’s got his phone camera steady in his hands while his cock stands proudly, but dejectedly, at the sight of his girlfriend being ruined. your eyes struggle focusing on him, but when you do make eye contact, he smirks down at you.

“guess you’re not fucking her well enough, shidou,” he jeers. “she still looks for me while you’re balls deep inside of her. what a brat.” he brings the phone down to your face, and you whimper and try to hide in the mattress from embarrassment and the bright light of the flash.

only for shidou to stop pounding you for a moment, just a moment, and lace his fingers through your hair, pulling you up to face the camera. your arms instinctively firm to hold your weight up and try to ease the burn on your scalp. “is that right?” he snarls. “you want sae to take care of this sensitive pussy? my cock not good enough for you anymore?”

there is no right answer. you know if you say no, you want shidou, he’ll force you to take his cock until you both cum, only for sae to make you face away while you ride him in punishment- which wouldn’t be so bad, if sae would help you, touch you, acknowledge you, but his resistance to cumming can take hours; you’d almost think he’s not into it, if it weren’t for his tightening balls betraying him. he doesn’t even let you look at him, he’s so mean.

you say yes, you want sae, sae will put a cock cage on shidou to keep him from cumming without permission, fuck you at his own pace and his own leisure, and then free shidou into finishing inside of you, tearing up your raw pussy even more while he records it again, the whole time threatening to send it to everyone on his team to show them what a slut you are. he’s made good on his word before and showed them, leading to dozens of soccer players to slide into your dm’s and ask how easy it is to get you onto their cock.

you sniffle and blink a line of fresh tears out, only for sae to catch it with his thumb and bring it to his lips to savor the salty liquid. “well? what do you want, you insatiable girl? do you want me-“

“or me?” shidou hisses. you can see the grit of his teeth through the muzzle.

you gulp. your lips slowly part and you make fishlike mouth movements as you struggle to conjure words.

sae, unimpressed, grips your chubby cheeks in his thick fingers, smushing them close and pursing your lips out. “words. use them.”

“b-both…” you confess. “want both… please?”

you watch sae’s lips curl into a smile again, eyes blazing with excitement over your words. he looks at shidou, “well then. guess we’re going to have to ruin another little hole, aren’t we?” the phone gets guided down to his cock, as he grips it in his hands and starts to jerk himself off.

“you think you’re cummin’ anytime soon, you’re wrong, you little freak,” shidou assures, letting go of your hair and thrusting hard enough your arms give out and your chest lands heavy against the mattress. you whimper as your world spins, fingers fisting the comforter as a means to ground yourself. “not before me, you brat,” shidou grunts before slipping out of you. you cry out as he does, squirming and writhing at the feeling of being so empty. you collapse onto your side, feeling butterflies for the delicious torment you’re about to be subjected to. “i want that little squealy throat of hers. teach her a lesson from all that bitchin’ and whinin’.”

sae rolls you onto your back and gets between your legs, thumb lazily rolling over your clit before pulling the small bit of protective skin back and spitting a hot wad of spit onto your pulsing bud, all the while the flash of his camera fixates on your quivering pussy. you jerk from all the attention to your puffy, swollen gash, and he sneers.

“you can take her throat, shidou,” sae says coolly, as if you’re not splayed out on camera. “bring her to the edge of the bed so you don’t get in my way.

“because i want this cunt all to myself right now.”

[rootedinrevisions]

No Nut November...or Not

SUMMARY: When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun?

A/N: Thank you so much to the Nonny who sent in this request! This one is a little more outside my comfort zone than what I normally write, but I think it turned out okay. Please let me know how you feel about it!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT. (Lingerie, Spanking, Slight Dom, Unprotected Sex (be responsible people), P in V (reverse cowgirl), Voyeurism/Exhibitionism (not sure if this counts in a poly relationship but including it in case)

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual hum of chatter and laughter, the jukebox belting out an old rock anthem. You leaned back in your chair, nursing a cold beer as you watched Jake and Bradley settle into their usual rhythm.

Jake smirked, his signature cocky grin firmly in place as he tipped his bottle toward Bradley. “Face it, Bradshaw, you just can’t handle the pressure. That’s why I’m better at pretty much everything.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, though the twitch of his jaw betrayed his annoyance. “You keep telling yourself that, Bagman. Last time I checked, you couldn’t keep up with me in the air…let alone other places.”

His gaze then shifted to you and he shot you a wink. You hid your smile behind your bottle, enjoying the way their bickering played out like clockwork. It was endearing in its own way, how the two of them always seemed to push each other just to prove who could come out on top.

“Alright, alright,” you interjected, setting your drink down and tilting your head at them. “What’s it going to be this time? Another darts match? Arm wrestling in the middle of Penny’s bar?”

“Don’t even think about it boys,” she interjects from behind the bar causing your lips to curve into a smirk.

Jake turned to you with a gleam in his eye, his grin widening. “Nah, that would be too easy, sweetheart. I’m thinking something better. Something that requires real willpower.”

Bradley scoffed, but there was a flicker of curiosity on his face. “What are you thinking, Hangman?”

Jake leaned forward, bracing one elbow on the table. “No Nut November.”

The words hung in the air for a beat before you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your beer. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious.” Jake looked over at Bradley, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Think you’ve got the guts to keep it together for a whole month, Bradshaw? Or are you gonna fold like you always do?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a slow, confident smile. “You’re on. But don’t come crying to me when you lose after, what, three days?”

“Three days?” Jake repeated mock outrage in his tone. “I’ve got steel discipline, Bradshaw. You’re the one who’s always got his head in the clouds.”

“Oh, this is good,” you said, shaking your head in amusement. You could already tell where this was headed, and it was going to be entertaining, to say the least

“What’s the wager?” Bradley asked, his eyes not leaving Jake.

“The usual,” Jake said with a shrug. “Loser has to do whatever the winner says. No complaints, no excuses.”

Bradley nodded, extending his hand across the table. “Deal.”

They shook on it, their grips firm and their gazes locked in mutual defiance. You snipped your beer, biting back a grin as an idea began to form in your mind.

If they were really going to go through with this, you might as well make it interesting. After all, wasn’t it your duty as their partner to keep them on their toes?

“I hope you two are ready,” you said, your voice deceptively sweet as you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Because I’m not about to make this easy for either of you.”

Jake arched a brow, his smirk faltering just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Bradley’s eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flashing across his face. But neither of them had the chance to respond before you stood, finishing the last of your drink and setting the bottle down with a soft clink.

“Good luck, boys,” you said, giving them a wink before walking away.

Behind you, you could hear Jake muttering, “What the hell does that mean?”

The next evening, the glow of the Hard Deck’s neon lights and the buzz of competitive banter were a distant memory. In their place was the soft hum of music drifting from the living room speaker and the warmth of home-cooked comfort filling the air.

Jake and Bradley’s off-base apartment had always been a haven of sorts—a space where the three of you could unwind, trading the chaos of your days for shared laughter and easy companionship, and a lot of physicality. Tonight was no different.

You stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and a grin tugging at your lips as you recalled the way Jake and Bradley had shaken on their bet the night before, each so sure of their resolve. It was all in good fun, of course, but watching them try to outlast each other was going to be a source of endless entertainment. Especially if you had anything to say about it.

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment kitchen as you stirred a simmering pot on the stove. Bradley leaned beside you, chopping vegetables with steady precision, while Jake stood at the counter, tossing together a salad. It was a rare quiet evening for the three of you, the kind of domestic tranquility that felt all the more special amidst the chaos of naval schedules.

You glanced at Bradley out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on his task, the rhythmic thwack of the knife against the cutting board filling the space between the three of you.

Setting the spoon aside, you turned toward him, brushing your hand lightly along the small of his back as you reached for the bowl beside him. “Thanks for helping out,” you said, your voice casual but laced with a subtle warmth.

“No problem,” Bradley replied, his tone as calm as ever. He didn’t look up from the cutting board, his focus unbroken.

Undeterred, you let your fingers linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away, casually brushing against his forearm as you leaned over to grab a kitchen towel. Still no reaction—though you noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

From across the kitchen, Jake chuckled softly. You looked over your shoulder to find him watching with a smug grin, one eyebrow raised as if to say, “Really? Is that all you’ve got?”

Game on.

Turning back to Bradley, you stepped closer, reaching for the bowl of chopped veggies just as he finished. 

“Let me get that,” you said, letting your fingers trail along his wrist as you took the bowl from him. This time, there was the faintest flicker of something in his expression, but he quickly masked it, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Thanks,” you said sweetly, placing the bowl on the counter and brushing past Jake on your way to the fridge.

You could feel his eyes on you, but he didn’t say a word, his hands continuing to toss the salad with deliberate nonchalance. Smiling to yourself, you opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of wine, taking your time as you returned to the counter.

Jake didn’t react when you sidled up beside him, leaning slightly against his arm as you reached for a corkscrew. But when your fingers brushed his wrist—lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin—his hands faltered, sending a stray piece of lettuce tumbling onto the floor.

“Oops,” you murmured, hiding your grin as you grabbed the corkscrew and stepped back. You almost painfully slow, bent down to pick up the lettuce, making sure the skirt you were wearing slid up giving Jake just the tiniest glimpse of the frilly lace of your underwear peeking out at him.

Jake shot you a look, his smirk slipping for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. 

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth but with a slight edge as his hand moved to your hip.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Bradley glancing over, his smirk now firmly in place. “What’s wrong, Seresin? You’re not getting distracted, are you?”

Jake’s jaw tightened just enough for you to notice, and you bit back a laugh, turning your attention back to the wine. 

“Oh, don’t tease him, Bradshaw,” you said innocently, pouring three glasses with careful precision. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he said nothing, instead focusing intently on his salad as if it were the most important task in the world.

You smiled to yourself, setting the glasses on the counter. This was going to be even more fun than you thought.

Dinner was ready not long after, and the three of you settled at the small dining table tucked against the window. The kitchen lights cast a soft glow over the scene, the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Plates were filled with the fruits of your collective labor: roasted chicken, sautéed vegetables, and a fresh salad that Jake had insisted was “restaurant-quality.”

You took the first bite, savoring the flavors as they hit your tongue. But instead of keeping the reaction to yourself, you let out a quiet, almost breathy moan, closing your eyes as though the simple taste of the meal was enough to send you to heaven.

When you opened your eyes, you caught both Jake and Bradley staring, their forks paused midair. Their gazes flicked to each other in a brief, wordless exchange before they simultaneously looked down at their plates, the muscles in their jaws tensing as they focused a little too intently on their food.

Suppressing a grin, you stabbed another piece of chicken with your fork, dragging it slowly through the sauce before taking another bite, this time pulling the utensil from your lips with an exaggerated slowness. You made sure the movement was subtle enough to seem natural—just enough to plant the idea without making it obvious.

The effect was immediate. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake shift in his seat, adjusting his posture in a way that suggested he was trying to ignore you. Across from him, Bradley chewed with deliberate focus, his expression unreadable except for the faint tightness in his jaw.

“Everything okay?” you asked innocently, looking between the two of them.

“Fine,” Jake said quickly, his tone light but clipped. He took a long drink of water, his eyes trained firmly on his plate as if it held the answers to all of life’s mysteries.

“Yeah, fine,” Bradley echoed, though his voice carried a hint of strain as he reached for the salad bowl, pretending to busy himself with serving more.

You leaned back in your chair, letting the silence settle for a moment before leaning forward again, your fingers brushing against the edge of your fork. There was a bit of sauce clinging to the tip, and instead of reaching for a napkin, you raised the utensil to your lips, your tongue darting out to catch the stray droplet.

It wasn’t dramatic—barely more than a flick—but the tension in the room crackled like static electricity. Jake’s fork clattered against his plate, and Bradley muttered something under his breath, though neither of them said anything directly.

Satisfied, you straightened in your chair and continued eating, keeping your movements deliberately slow and casual. You were playing the long game, after all, and the night was still young.

The evening stretched on, the kind of Saturday night that carried the promise of an easygoing, relaxed vibe. But the air between the three of you had changed. Every glance, every subtle movement felt charged, as if all the teasing from dinner was quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for something to tip it over the edge.

As the game time drew near, you decided to take a break, excusing yourself with a casual, “I’ll be right back. Gonna get comfy for the game.”

Jake barely looked up, his attention already focused on the TV screen as he pulled up the Longhorns' game schedule. Bradley nodded absently, taking another sip of his beer.

You made your way toward Jake’s bedroom. His closet door creaked open, and you moved quickly, your fingers brushing past the shirts hanging neatly in a row until you found it—the burnt orange jersey. You had no intention of wearing it the traditional way, though.

Next, you turned your attention to the bottom drawer of Jake’s dresser. The one that, over time, had become a place for a few of your things—your stuff from nights spent at their place, the clothes you didn’t mind leaving behind. You sifted through the familiar pile, your fingers grazing the fabric until you found what you were looking for. The lacy black thong with the satin bow on the back, a gift from Bradley on your birthday last year.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stripped out of your clothes, quickly slipping into the thong and then pulling the jersey over your head. The fabric settled comfortably against your skin, the oversized fit doing little to hide the outline of what you were really wearing underneath.

When you emerged from the bedroom, your eyes met the living room where the guys were settling in. Jake was already lounging on the couch, the TV lighting up his face as he focused on pulling up the game. Bradley was standing near the fridge, mid-drink when he saw you. His hand froze, the bottle of beer almost slipping from his grip. His eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he took in the sight of you in nothing but the jersey.

Jake’s gaze flickered over to you, eyes widening for just a moment before he cleared his throat, his focus shifting back to the screen as though it was the most important thing in the world. But you could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened against the remote as if it were somehow anchoring him.

Bradley, on the other hand, had a harder time hiding it. His eyes followed you across the room, the surprise quickly turning into something unreadable, but not before his lips parted as though he might say something—until he caught himself. Instead, he looked down at his beer, taking a long swig to steady himself.

You smirked, casually flopping down on the couch beside Jake, making sure to let the fabric of the jersey shift just enough to give him a better view of what you were wearing—or, more accurately, not wearing underneath.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Jake’s hand settled on your thigh, warm and heavy, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cool air from the open window. You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his arm for good measure, leaning in close to him.

As you shifted your position, tilting your knees slightly, you felt the jersey ride up a bit higher, just enough for the lacy black thong to peek out from beneath the fabric. It was a calculated move, knowing full well that Bradley would notice.

Sure enough, when he finally settled back onto the couch on the other side of you, his gaze flickered down. His hand, perhaps on autopilot, reached out, brushing against your nearly bare skin, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. Bradley’s fingers squeezed the flesh there, just a little too long, a little too possessively, before he quickly pulled his hand away, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

You tilted your head back into Jake’s side, letting out a soft, content sigh, and allowed yourself to sink into his warmth. The move was deliberate, a subtle taunt that made Bradley’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, and you reveled in the power you held over the two men tonight.

“Enjoying the game?” Jake asked, his voice low, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d cast. His fingers tightened on your thigh, pressing just enough to remind you of his presence.

“Mmm,” you replied, letting the sound linger in the air, your breath warm against his neck.

Jake leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “You know, you’re really playing a dangerous game, don’t you think?”

You looked up at him, your expression innocent, the tease in your eyes impossible to hide. “Maybe,” you replied coyly, “but I think it’s one you’ll both enjoy losing.”

The game continued, but the real action was unfolding right in front of Jake and Bradley. You could feel their eyes on you—the weight of their attention was undeniable. Jake’s hand had barely moved from your thigh, and Bradley’s fingers lingered there, giving you little indication that he had any intention of stopping. They were both wound tight, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

As the Longhorns scored a touchdown, the roar from the crowd on the TV mixed with your own excited gasp. Without thinking, you jumped to your feet, the burst of energy sending you bouncing up and down in celebration. You felt the jersey ride up as you raised your arms, the fabric lifting just enough to expose the small, barely-there thong underneath.

Your ass swayed with each bounce, the thong almost completely exposed, offering a perfect view of your bare skin to both men. The sensation of their eyes locked on you was intoxicating, but you didn’t stop. You made sure every movement was deliberate, a tease designed to keep them both hooked.

Finally, you turned around, your back to them now. The jersey hung just low enough to cover your front but did nothing to hide the thong from their view. You felt their stares burning into you, the tension between the three of you palpable in the air.

With a grin, you smirked over your shoulder, catching their eyes before saying, “Man, I love football.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably, his hand now tight around the beer bottle in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Bradley, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his reaction. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in frustration. His hand moved to the front of his jeans, adjusting himself. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself, like every instinct he had was telling him to do something more.

The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could practically feel the moment when Bradley’s restraint finally snapped. As you smirked over your shoulder, still reveling in the heat of their gazes, you noticed the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides. His jaw was locked, his body rigid as he tried—unsuccessfully—to stay composed.

Then, without warning, he shot up from the couch. “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough, filled with frustration.

Before you could even react, he was on you. One moment, you were standing in front of him, and the next, he had you hoisted effortlessly over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise, but the only response from him was a determined growl.

You kicked your legs slightly, but it was no use. Bradley had you completely at his mercy, carrying you down the hallway toward his room with a purposeful stride.

Jake called out from the living room, his voice laced with disbelief. “Bradshaw—what the hell are you doing?”

But Bradley didn’t even look back, his focus solely on you as he carried you down the hall, ignoring whatever punishment Jake might throw at him. The bet? The consequences? They didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the desire that had been building up in him, the need to finally act on everything he’d been holding back.

When he reached the door to his room, he kicked it open with one swift motion, stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, he dropped you onto the bed, his eyes dark with intensity.

“You’ve been teasing us all night,” he growled, voice thick with desire. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You smirked, already knowing that you had pushed him too far. But that didn’t stop you from playing along, feeling the thrill of victory in the way you’d slowly unraveled him.

Bradley didn’t care about the bet anymore. All he cared about was you, and right now, that was enough.

As Bradley moved over you, his hands working the black thong off of your body with an urgency that matched the heat in his eyes, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door swung open with a creak, and there, standing in the doorway, was Jake. His smirk was wide, his eyes gleaming with that same cocky confidence, but there was a sharpness to it now—a flicker of something darker beneath the surface.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. His eyes shifted between you and Bradley, taking in the sight of the thong being discarded carelessly to the side. The silence that followed was thick with tension, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Bradley’s fingers paused for a moment, as if sensing Jake’s presence, but his focus quickly returned to you. The momentary distraction was all Jake needed. Without breaking his smirk, Jake pushed off the doorframe and strode confidently across the room.

“Bradley, step back, baby,” Jake’s voice was low, filled with a knowing taunt. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes still on you as he placed a hand on your waist, guiding you down across his lap.

You gasped, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding through you as you found yourself positioned across his strong legs. Your heart raced, but the smirk never left your face.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Jake’s voice was suddenly darker, his tone shifting as he ran a finger down your spine. “You think you can tease us both, and get away with it?” He gave you a playful, but firm tap on the back of your thigh, the sting shocking you.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing his lips to your ear. “Well, it’s time somebody put you in your place.”

Bradley watched, still breathing heavily as he stood at the foot of the bed, his hands flexing with restrained hunger. The game had changed entirely. You had crossed a line, and now, both men knew it was their turn to take control.

Jake’s grip tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he positioned you more firmly across his lap. He traced a finger across the curve of your backside, his voice rough as he said, “This isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.”

The first smack comes without warning, a startled cry leaving your lips as you feel the sting of Jake’s hand.

“That’s one. You’ve got nine more. Think you can handle it?”

You nodd, but Jake just makes a tsk tsk tsk noise with his mouth before delivering another smack to the same spot.

“Use your words. We’re back to one. I can do this all night.”

“Yes. Yes, I can handle it.”

You hear Jake let out a low chuckle before saying, “Damn right you can, baby.”

The final smack echoed through the room, sharper than the rest, and you couldn't suppress the gasp that left your lips. A wave of heat rushed through you, a mix of sting and longing building in your body. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the tension of the moment overwhelming.

Jake’s hand lingered, resting gently on your sore skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the burn of the smacks. For a brief moment, there was silence. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the weight of his touch seemed to calm you, despite the ache.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still full of command. His hand moved slowly, rubbing circles into your tender skin, soothing the burn as he spoke. "You did so well for me."

You could hear the pride in his voice, and feel the shift in his demeanor as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. It was a small, almost gentle gesture, but it spoke volumes in the context of everything that had just transpired.

His fingers traced along your back now, his touch lighter, almost tender. "I know you can take it," he continued, his tone warm. "You’ve been so good for us tonight."

The praise was enough to stir something inside you—something that made the lingering sting worth it. He could still dominate you, but in this moment, you were his, and he took care of you in a way that felt like both power and care.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen next, sweetheart,” Jake says. “Bradley here is going to lay on his bed, and you’re going to ride him, reverse cowgirl so he can watch that pretty ass bounce as your ride him. And so I can watch your perfect tits bounce.” You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together at his words. “And I’m going to stand at the end of the bed and I want your eyes on me the whole time. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” Jake says before helping you up off his lap.

The moment you lift yourself off Jake’s lap, there’s a quiet shift in the room. The tension in the room grows as you crawl up the bed, hovering over Bradley, who’s now lying back on the bed, his eyes dark with hunger but also something else–softness, a trace of tenderness mixed with the primal need.

As you settle above him, the weight of your body supported by your hands on either side of his chest, Bradley’s hands reach up to pull you down. He doesn’t waste a second, his lips finding yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. The kiss is almost electric, his lips hungry, but gentle enough to make you melt against him. The urgency fades slightly, and you find yourself losing a bit of control as you sink into the warmth of his embrace. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you close as if he doesn’t want to let you go.

The kiss deepens, and for a moment, everything else falls away. It's just the two of you, your bodies pressing together, the soft sound of your breathing filling the space between you. You feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and warm, grounding you in this moment. It’s different with Bradley—there’s a tenderness there, something that contrasts with the more commanding side Jake showed earlier.

When you pull away, your lips still tingling, you can see the quiet satisfaction in Bradley’s eyes. His hands slip down your sides, tracing the outline of your body as if committing every inch of you to memory.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire, but there’s a softness to it, a reverence that makes your chest tighten.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time it’s slower, more deliberate, and you can feel the shift between you—less about the tease, less about the game, and more about the connection.

You shift, moving so that your back is now towards Bradley, and your gaze finds Jake’s. The electricity between you three is palpable, the air thick with the kind of unspoken connection that runs deep. You can feel Bradley’s hands on your waist, steadying you, but it’s Jake’s eyes that hold your attention now—dark, intent, but filled with something else. There’s a depth in his gaze, a silent understanding, a promise that whatever happens next, it’s about the three of you as one.

You reach down, tugging the burnt orange jersey off, letting it fall to the floor in a fluid motion, leaving yourself exposed before them. The vulnerability stirs something within you—both exhilarating and grounding at once. With each passing second, the trust between you grows stronger, the knowledge that you're not just being seen, but truly understood, is almost overwhelming.

You pause, locking eyes with Jake, and the tension rises again. His presence is commanding, but it's the gentle weight of his gaze that gives you the confidence to continue. Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, the movement calculated and deliberate, not just for them, but for yourself. 

Bradley’s hands guide you, steadying you as you move closer to him. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the stretch of Bradley as you sink further and further onto him.

“Uh uh. Eyes on me, baby.” Jake reminds you.

You nod and open your eyes, yours immediately find Jake’s green ones. They’re darker than normal, laced with desire and need.

“You’re perfect,” Bradley whispers, his voice thick with emotion. You can feel the weight of his words, not just in his tone, but in how his hands trace over your skin, grounding you in this moment.

You stay locked on Jake’s gaze, the intensity of his eyes grounding you in the moment. The air between you two feels thick, like a promise that’s been quietly building, waiting to be fulfilled. His face softens, but there’s a quiet strength in it that makes your heart race. 

Bradley’s hands move to your waist, his touch steady and sure. He guides you gently, helping you find your rhythm as your body begins to move, slow and deliberate. His touch is a contrast to Jake’s silent command—Bradley’s touch is soft, like a grounding force, holding you steady.

You feel the heat rising, your chest tightening as the tension builds. But through it all, Jake’s eyes never leave yours. There’s something magnetic about the way he watches, as though he’s seeing you—every part of you—in a way that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe, all at once. His jaw tightens as he shifts, the intensity in his gaze never faltering.

With every small movement, every shift of your body, you feel the pressure building. Your breaths come quicker, your heart racing as Bradley’s hands guide you.

“S-shit,” you hear Bradley mutter from beneath you, causing you to clench around him.

Bradley’s hands move to your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His touch is tender, guiding you closer, helping you reach a place of intensity that feels almost overwhelming.

And then, it comes—like a wave crashing over you. You can feel the pressure building, the world narrowing down to the feeling of Bradley’s hands on your skin, his body beneath you, and Jake’s steady gaze pulling you deeper. Every part of you is alive, connected, and entwined in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Your breath catches as the moment hits, your body trembling as you reach the peak. Your eyes never leave Jake’s, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. There’s nothing but the bond between the three of you—the love, the trust, the unspoken understanding that this is where you’re meant to be. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.” Bradley grunts as you feel ropes of his seed release into you.

You collapse on the bed against Bradley, your body spent and trembling, Jake’s smile softens, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Bradley whispers, pulling you into him, his hands still on your back as he kisses the top of your head. His voice is filled with a tenderness.

“You’re perfect,” Jake adds softly, his voice low and comforting.

Bradley shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he looks over at Jake. There’s a quiet moment between them, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. With a soft chuckle, Bradley pushes himself up from the bed, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer before he speaks.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Jake, you wanna take care of her while I’m gone?” he asks, the affection in his voice evident.

Jake’s response is immediate, his eyes softening as he watches you. “Of course,” he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.

As Bradley moves to the bathroom, Jake crawls onto the bed beside you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His presence is a steady, comforting weight as he shifts closer, opening his arms for you. You don’t hesitate, scooting over to him, seeking the comfort of his embrace.

You curl into him, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth as your head rests against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is a calming rhythm beneath your ear, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment, the tension of the last few minutes slowly ebbing away.

Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer, his hand gently stroking your hair as he settles against the pillows. His touch is soothing, almost protective, and it fills you with a sense of security that you can’t quite put into words.

“You did so well,” Jake murmurs, his voice soft and tender. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You smile against his chest, the words washing over you like a balm. You can feel the warmth of his body, the affection in every movement, and it’s all you need right now. The bond between the three of you feels unspoken but undeniable, and in this moment, everything feels right.

As you settle more comfortably against Jake, his arms holding you close, you allow yourself to fully relax, your body melting into his embrace. The soft sound of Bradley’s footsteps in the bathroom fades into the background as you lose yourself in the warmth of Jake’s care.

The world outside this room doesn’t matter right now. There’s only the three of you, your trust, and the quiet love that lingers in the space between. And for the moment, that’s all you need.

As the warmth of Jake’s embrace settles around you, the exhaustion from the long day and the intensity of everything that’s happened begin to catch up with you. Your body feels heavy, your mind slowly unwinding as the last threads of wakefulness start to slip away. You’re so close to falling asleep, the soothing rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat lulling you deeper into comfort.

But then, there’s a soft rustle of movement. You feel the bed shift slightly, and soon, Bradley is back. He’s holding a warm washcloth, the scent of soap and something faintly floral filling the air as he gently presses it against your skin. The touch is tender, careful, as he begins to clean you up, his fingers moving gently over you.

“Let me know if I’m being too rough,” Bradley murmurs softly, his voice a whisper in the quiet room, his gaze focused on his task. There’s no rush in his movements, only a quiet affection, as he takes care of you.

Once he finishes, he places the cloth aside, his hand lingering for just a moment before he pulls back. You feel the bed dip as he moves around, and then, in the next moment, he’s crawling onto the bed beside you. His arms slip around your waist from behind, pulling you into him, and you easily melt back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against your back.

You’re trapped now, but it doesn’t feel like a prison. Bradley’s strong chest presses against your back, his arms holding you securely while Jake, still on the other side of you, continues to hold you close. The two of them surround you, their presence comforting, and you can’t help but feel safe in their arms.

“Comfy?” Bradley murmurs against your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod slightly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t want to fall asleep any other way.”

The steady sound of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies, and the quiet intimacy of the moment all wash over you. You can feel yourself drifting, your body sinking into the bed, the pull of sleep becoming harder to resist.

Just as your mind starts to fade, you hear Jake’s voice, light and teasing, cutting through the soft lull of the room.

“So, Bradshaw,” Jake begins, his tone dripping with playful mockery. “Not even twenty-four hours, huh?”

Bradley chuckles softly behind you, his fingers idly tracing circles on your waist as he gives a quiet, amused grunt. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

Jake snorts, a low, amused laugh slipping from his lips. “Right, but it’s nice to know you’re still a little bit predictable.”

You can hear the affection in Jake’s voice, his teasing not mean-spirited but filled with that familiar bond that the three of you share. As the sound of their laughter and gentle banter continues, the exhaustion pulls you under, and you finally surrender to sleep, the two men’s arms around you the last thing on your mind as you drift away.