#I am so juvenile when it comes to names

[sleepdepravity]

BUMPASS…

[babygorewhore]

Am I making you feel sick?

Charlie Mayhew x fem reader one shot.

When Father Charlie Mayhew sees you, a magnetic young woman who isn’t the typical Catholic, his sinful nature only grows.

Thank you so much to @cxrrodedcoffin for helping me brain storm and to @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me with the picture!

Warnings! Perv! Charlie. Panty stealing, male masturbation, self whipping, obsessive behavior, mild talks of violence, blasphemy, male receiving oral, choking, pussy slapping, degrading, spitting, female recieving oral, unprotected sex, face slapping, overstimulation, multiple orgasms!

The markings on Charlie’s back were a humbling reminder of his sin. He focused his efforts onto appearing normal. A regular service. A way to give the people encouragement, guidance and a spiritual feast. But keeping his composure while you played with the fringes of your skirt, the curves of your thighs exposed as you crossed your ankles. That proved to be a significant challenge.

You were a regular member of the church. Your attendance isolated. Your presence came after the death of your grandparents a few months prior.

He remembered first seeing you. As if a halo shined above your head as you confidently strode into the building. The click of your platform shoes echoed across the floor as you plopped onto a seat. Charlie nearly stumbled over his sermon when you met eyes that day. Your gaze was focused. Made up eyes with a mixture of curiosity and rebellion.

Above your heart, you wore a silver cross. The muscles in your neck flexing as you chew a piece of bubble gum. Beautiful wasn’t fitting enough to describe you. Charlie was enchanted by the way you tried to follow along in your Bible but you seemed to be a step behind.

His cock started to throb when you would separate your legs, exposing the black lace material that covered your pussy. After the third time he saw you, Charlie approached you with a confident stride. He hoped it was enough to cover the urge to wince at his wounds. It’s what he deserved after his fist jerked himself off the previous nights.

He readied himself to speak but you looked him up and down with a slight smirk.

“Yeah?” You ran the tip of your tongue along the edges of your teeth and Charlie cleared his throat.

“God looks favorably on those who are devout to him. And I know he looks down on you with deep appreciation.” He was used to his charm working immediately. Charlie prepared for flirtation in return, a giggle or even batting eyelashes but instead you snorted with a flick of your hair.

“Duh. That’s why I come here. I know God loves me otherwise I wouldn’t be alive.” He opened his mouth to question what you meant but you spun on your heels and walked away.

Charlie was self admittedly obsessed with you. He found every excuse imaginable to walk by your area. He found you online. His fingers shook and his forearm was sore from busting a load when he looked at your photos.

But his deep desire for you only grew when he ran into you at the diner. You drank a milkshake and nibbled on the remainder of your fries. When you saw him, you waved him over. Charlie plastered on a smile and spoke your name with a feign politeness.

“Can you be a good little priest and watch my purse?” You asked him and he swallowed. He nodded as you walked to the near restroom.

Charlie understood fully it was juvenile to search your purse but when his fingers fell on the material of lace, an overwhelming feeling of excitement came. He pocketed the pair of panties and gained his strength when you returned.

His life before turning to the cloth consisted of perverse acts and they lingered within him like a poison. You were possessing his every thought just like corrupted angels that turned away from God. Charlie was tired of his own rough hand. One that inflicted regular discipline. One that desperately wanted to touch you.

He walked around the church during nightfall. Kneeling before the candles and begging for any assistance. For strength to resist. But it was too much. So much so, that Father Charlie began stealing more and more things. A lipgloss tube. Chains. A secondary fragrance. Anything that could bring him closer to you.

Charlie concluded and pried himself out of the intoxication of the image of being between your legs.

“Take solace in the congregation!” He cried out, holding his hands up. “Lean onto God for your salvation against this treachery!” Charlie quieted.

The service concluded and the rainfall began. Numbers dwindled except you. His breathing trembled as he strode to you. “Ah, is your mind filled with worry?” He tucked his hands behind his back. You popped your hip and stared at the wood intricacies.

“I can’t go home. There was a leak in my apartment ceiling. I’m about to phone a friend so I can stay with him while it’s being fixed.” You adjusted your ring and Charlie clenched his fists.

The mention of another male made him feel nearly nauseous. Charlie clicked his jaw and raised his eyebrows. “You can have sanctuary here. We have rooms-“

“God, why do you talk like that?” You turned to face him and he was taken aback by your aggressive tone. “You’re my age. And you act like you’re Jesus!”

You gripped his collar suddenly and Charlie let out a gasp. Your breath smelled like strawberries. The shine to your lips with a hint of glitter. “Get over yourself, Father. Just because you wear this ridiculous outfit, doesn’t mean you’re anything less than a little boy.”

Every word you spoke was laced with a condescending bite. You let him go but Charlie didn’t step back. His eyes kept falling to the wicked mouth giving him a slew of insults that were a muffle in his ears.

“Anyway. I keep trying to call him but there’s barely any service in here.” You roll your eyes and Charlie musters his confidence back.

“You can stay here tonight. Give him a call in the morning. I can promise you safety here.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You seemed to contemplate it for a moment. Your stare narrowed before a minimal softness came.

“Well. I guess I can spare one night.”

Charlie led you in silence to his room. Every footstep was heavy. The weight of his internal battle tormenting him. He stood in silence as your fingers traced the walls, lingering on the hung cross and twirled the quilt on his bed.

You sat down, resting your palms on your knees and met his look.

“How long have you been catholic?” The question was genuine and his intrigue increased as you chuckled. You examined your nails with a lilting response.

“Not long. Grew up around the church but left when I was eighteen. Swore it off until these super hot guys in a band attacked me,” His jaw dropped and rage ignited his chest. “But I happened to have my Cross. Guess you could call it Divine intervention. I stabbed the man with it in the eye. Maced the other one. Third dude ran away.”

You completed the sentence with a giggle. “I promised God that if he got me out, I’d join the church. And I keep my word.” You pressed your hands together in prayer.

Charlie lost control of his body and he moved towards you. He set his large hands on your shoulders, squeezing your muscles and he bent down. “How could anyone want to hurt you?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” He pressed a finger against your lips and you pulled it into your mouth. Charlie grunted and removed it.

You sank down on the floor, unbuckling his pants with a practiced ease. Peering at him, you smiled and hooked your finger in his trousers.

His size and girth made your mouth water. You allowed your lips to part, drool pooling down your tongue that stuck out. You removed his boxers, Charlie’s dick twitching as you slapped the tip against your tongue. You licked his length, dragging motions that made his vision go white.

When you took him in your mouth, moving your neck to deepthroat, he moaned and his hand set on your head. Charlie pumped your skull, thrusting but you pulled off. Messily sucking his balls and he started convulsing.

No. No, no, no. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He pulled the strings. He held the reins and control was his.

A part of him unlocked, one that he tried to put away. Charlie growled and yanked you off his shaft. Laughter escaped you, as you still believed you called the shots.

“Oh my god! You were about to cream down my throat and I only did it for a minute or two.” He stood there as you dug the pair of stolen panties from his pocket.

“Did you really think I was that stupid? You think I don’t know a fucking pervert when I see them?” You flicked them at his face and Charlie’s cheeks heated. “You’re disgusting.”

He reached and gripped your jaw. Charlie backed you up until you were slammed on the bed, his knee between your thighs as his cock pulsed. He wrapped that same hand around your throat, squeezing until you were staring at him with wide eyes.

“I am going to ruin you and that sweet little pussy you flash at me. You think this is a goddamn joke?” His voice was rasped with lust and a sickness he caught the moment he saw you.

Charlie let go of your throat and watched you cough. He tore away your panties, shredding off the skirt and stared at your dripping cunt. He let his head fall to the side, dark brown eyes focused on your flustered expression.

You went to gain some sort of momentum to support yourself but Charlie gave your pussy a sharp slap.

You made a shrieking noise at the impact and he scoffed. “Oh don’t act so fuckin stupid. Is that little corrupted brain of yours not getting it?” Weeks of build up poured out of him and he smacked your center three more times. Each strike harder than the last.

Your mouth pressed in a line, a poor attempt to conceal the pleasure. Charlie allowed a sinister smile to curl. “You’re almost as fucked up as I am, doll.” Your eyes widened as he slowly let his mouth graze your lower half.

He let his full lips brush against your bare skin as he breathed in. Charlie smelled the scent of your pulsing cunt and the wild need ignited in him. The priest gripped your hips as his knees pressed into the floor. He smashed his mouth against your pussy.

It was better than candy. The most saccharine sensation as he parted his lips and found your clit. Charlie’s dick was so hard that his hand picked up the discarded panties. He wrapped them around his cock, moaning at the relief as his tongue tasted you.

Charlie worked you over, his other hand keeping your hips in place.

His nose hit the right spots and he wasn’t shy about being messy. You were panting, holding his head and grinding as much as you could. Your moans were better than his favorite song. Charlie had plenty of experience burying his face between a woman’s legs. It was something that he did not only for their pleasure but his own.

Feeling your body contract, moving into his corrupted touch made Charlie’s eyes roll back as more slick soaked his mouth. You cried out, a series of, “Oh god, fuck! F-fuck.” You sounded on the brink of tears.

Charlie pushed two fingers inside you, making your whimpers become pathetic. He pumped them as he lifted himself, hovering over you with a wet chin. “Open that whore mouth,” he commanded and you did.

Charlie let the spit fall, coating your tongue and lips. “Swallow it. You know all about that, huh?” He enjoyed the sight of you beneath him. Charlie kissed you. Deeply and hungrily. He sucked your lower lip lewdly, letting a thick groan escape him. You returned it in kind, pressing your chest against his, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off his arms.

Your fingers felt the scars on his back but Charlie didn’t care. Every single self inflicted mark was worth it if it meant he could be with you.

“Fuck me, please. Please fuck me,” You begged and Charlie’s dick fucking hurt but he loved the pain. He ran the tip of his cock against your clit, smearing the cum and continuous wetness.

He sank into your entrance, stretching you and you both let out a harmonious sigh. Charlie’s half opened eyes observed you arch your back but that familiar fire burned in your eyes. You tightened your legs that were around his waist. He knew you were trying to flip over. Not now. Charlie aggressively thrusted into you, bringing his hand down to spank the side of your ass.

“Oh no, you don’t get to ride me yet. You’re gonna lay there like the helpless sinner you are.” He growled and heaved your thighs over his shoulders. Getting an even deeper angle as your ass was off the mattress.

Drool escaped your hung open mouth and he let his palm feel your lower stomach. “Yeah? You feel that? Feel me in your pathetic pussy? You,” Thrust,” “Are,” thrust, “Mine.”

“Yours,” You sobbed and he smacked your face.

“You can do better. You can do fucking better than that.” Charlie smeared the spit on your mouth, cheek and slapped it again. “Tell me you’re a good girl.”

“I’m a good girl. I’m your good girl.” You pleaded with growing pleasure.

“See? You obey me. Deep down,” He felt the bulge again. “You’re a desperate little girl needing to be fucked. By someone as sick as me.”

You let out a wail, moans of pleasure coming out in staccato breaths. Charlie busted his load into your pussy, his lips hovering over yours as you both humped each other.

He rolled over, sinking you on his cock. Your tits were in his face, he sucked your nipple as you bounced. Charlie felt your fingers scratch his chest, marking his skin in the shape of a Cross with your nail.

He pried off your tit, his hands holding your waist. “Pussy squeezin me so tight. Like you can’t get enough. Greed is a sin,” Charlie sucked your pulse point and brought you to a second climax.

You fucked yourself on his dick. Mewling as he coated your insides with cum. “You’re my dirty little sinner. Give me every last drop. Let me have it,” He whispered the last part of the sentence.

He didn’t forget your tale of woe. Charlie put away your confession in his mind. You were put in a position of self defense. But if you hadn’t been so brave, you wouldn’t have walked into the congregation.

You slowed down, lazily riding his dick with a dazed expression.

“Get on your knees. You’re gonna lick my cock clean and finish the game you started.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @fear-is-truth @starkeysprincess @cameronsprincess @chavezprincess @titsout4nicholas @userchai @taintandviolent @webbluvrsugar @oceanblvd111

[eddiesxangel]

Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think— "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

[recareels]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ sunday + the nickname ‘sunny’

character: sunday warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, size difference, fem reader words: 781

“Sunny!” 

Juvenile and trashy, he used to hate that nickname. 

He used to hate that nickname, until you. 

It’s funny, how the meaning of a word can change with a single person, in a single instant. 

The first time you use it, Sunday doesn’t even have the heart to tell you how much he despises it—because suddenly, he doesn’t anymore. 

That’s all it took; two syllables, falling from your lips wrapped in a melodic laugh. Two syllables, vibrating on your tongue, eyes sparkling as they found his, and his whole view on the wretched nickname had changed. 

Because it sounds so beautiful when you say it, sucked on in the heat of your mouth, warm and syrupy as melted sugar. It sounds so special when you say it, filtered through an everlasting smile—his smile, the one you save just for him, the one that no one else gets to see, gets to procure—thickly embraced in love and reverence and worship. 

You say it like it’s a prayer, like it’s a vow. You say it with such passionate fondness that it sounds like a promise, an oath swearing that you will never leave, that you will love him, wholly and completely, for eternity. 

“You know, I used to hate the nickname Sunny,” he finally tells you one night while you’re laying in bed, voice lullabied.

It’s late—too late for you to be awake, truthfully—and you had fallen asleep waiting up for him, desperate to catch a glimpse of him after nearly twenty-four hours of his absence. 

But the moment he had entered the bedroom—sock-clad feet quiet on the hardwood, steps kept light and agile, silver door handle twisted with such meticulous care and precision that he’s sure it didn’t make a single sound—you were up, lashes fluttering against the halo of golden light spilling past him in the doorway.

A sixth sense, he likes to call it. Something intimate and instinctual that alerts you to his presence, the moment he’s in your general vicinity. A divine intuition borne out of your ethereal and everlasting love for him. 

A hum vibrates on his chest, your cheek nuzzling into his sternum. 

“Why?” 

“Because it sounded…” silly, stupid, unsophisticated. “Wrong, coming from the lips of anyone. Anyone else, but you.” 

“And now?”

Now, it’s special, significant, personal. 

Now, he loves it. 

He loves it, always. 

He loves it when it’s laughed out, stuttered by giggles or the slap of your tennis shoes against stone in the courtyard while you gracefully leap from his touch, the linen of your dress teasingly brushing his fingertips, narrowly escaping his grasp.

He loves it when it’s squealed out, pitched high and stringy and filtered through a pout, usually accompanied by knitted brows or a stomped foot. Sunny, be serious! you cry, features scrunching further at his tender chuckle.

I am serious, darling, he always responds, but he can never quite dim those adoring twinkles shimmering in his eyes, mollifying his gaze to something soft and lidded, playful affection toying with the corners of his mouth. You’re just too cute. 

He loves it when it’s gasped out, nothing more than a breathy wisp on your tongue, pushed from your chest by his relentless thrusts and repeated until it breaks, letters shattering on your lips, cunt convulsing around him.

Even fractured with bliss, it still sounds so heavenly coming from your throat, shards of it lingering on your tongue even after he’s pumped you full of thick cum and panted his own rapture into your waiting, wanting mouth—Sun-Su-Sun-ny, bits of the name wheezed out in little whines; desperate, divine, dissolving on his tongue, little fingers clawing and clinging to his heaving form as it curls around your own.

He loves it when it’s slurred out in those early morning hours when he finally returns to you, murmured into your pillow and drowning in a pool of thick spit, letters heavy with sleep. Sunny, you whimper again, turning toward the heat of his body, hands groping blindly, eyes still glued shut with exhaustion. Missed you, s’much, Sunny, you mumble into his sternum as you rub your cheek along it, catlike. My Sunny. 

He loves it, forever. 

“Now, it’s perfect,” he murmurs into your hair, sealing the proclamation with a kiss. “Now, it’s my favourite.”

Admittedly, he still hates it when anyone else uses it, but it’s for a different reason now. No longer is the nickname childish and asinine, but instead it is yours, special and sacred, a term of endearment allowed just for you. It has been transformed by your lips and your love, metamorphosed into something sacrosanct.

And Sunday wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[lovelybucky1]

Nice Guys Finish Last

Kinktober Day 9- Hair Pulling

warnings: hair pulling, oral sex (f!receiving), name calling, face riding, dom/sub dynamics, fwb(?), crime, tattooed and pierced anakin, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Picking up Anakin from the police station yet again is not what you thought you’d be doing with your night. Your he is always getting into some kind of trouble and it always somehow becomes your responsibility to save his sorry ass.

It’s the third time this month you’ve had to get him and to say you’re pissed is an understatement. You honestly couldn’t believe the officer when he told you Anakin was taken in for vandalism. He was caught tagging a building with some buddies. How fucking juvenile.

You signed the proper paperwork and Anakin was following you out of the station. Somehow, with his pretty boy charm, he always gets off with a warning. Some day he won’t be so lucky, and you may not feel bad for him when that day comes.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Anakin!” you yell once you’re in the car.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Anakin huffs.

“Don’t give me that. I’m the one bailing you out in the middle of the night for fucking around with a can of spray paint.”

Anakin glares at you from the passenger seat. “Thanks,” he mutters.

“Why am I always the one you call? You know I won’t let you rot at the station and all your other friends are getting arrested with you?” It’s a rhetorical question; you know that’s exactly why you’re his call.

“You’re my best friend. That’s why you’re the one I call,” he says. “Sorry if I’m such an inconvenience for you.”

“Do not guilt trip me, Anakin. You are so fucking irresponsible and yeah, you are inconveniencing me because it’s Saturday night and I had plans that I left to come save you.”

Anakin raises his eyebrows at the mention of plans. “What plans?”

“Is that fucking important right now?”

Anakin wiggles his snakebites with his tongue as he looks at you. “Was it a date?”

You sigh heavily. “Yes it was.”

“First date?”

“Third.”

Anakin makes a huh noise faintly and you want to press him about it, but figure it’s better just to get him home and out of your sight before you punch him.

You start the car and pull out of the police station parking lot. You drive in silence for a few minutes, not having put on the radio in your rage.

“You weren’t drunk, were you?” you ask.

“Jesus,” he says, offended. “No, I wasn’t drunk.”

“Don’t act like that’s not a valid question. Do you have any idea how much stupid shit you do when you’re drunk?”

Anakin kicks his foot up on the dashboard and you quickly slap his thigh so he doesn’t scuff up your car with his obnoxious boot.

Before long, you turn into the parking lot of Anakin’s apartment complex and park in your usual spot. He gets out of the car, then you follow.

“You’re coming in?”

“I missed dessert. It’s the least you could do.”

Anakin attempts to smile at you, but that venture is short lived when he sees your annoyed expression illuminated by the street lights.

The two of you walk into the building and up the two flights of stairs to get to his door. He lets you in and you immediately walk over to the freezer, searching for something sweet.

“Ben’s out tonight,” he says.

“So was I, but you didn’t ask Ben to pick you up,” you respond, head still in the freezer.

“Come on, are we really gonna do this all night? Ben and I aren’t close like we are.”

You pick up a pint of half-eaten ice cream and close the freezer before opening all of the drawers until you find the spoons. You take the lid off the container and lean against the counter, glaring at Anakin where he sits at the counter.

“How was your date,” he asks.

“It was good until you dragged me away from it.”

Anakin looks down at his hands and twiddles his thumbs. “Where’d he take you?”

You fill your mouth with a spoonful of ice-cream. “The restaurant on 15th,” you respond.

Anakin furrows his brows. “That place is a dump. Why would he take you there?”

“It’s not about the food, it’s about the company.”

Anakin scoffs. “It sounds like your company is a cheap asshole who doesn’t know how to treat you.”

You stare silently at Anakin while thoughts race through your mind. The first time you got Anakin from the police station was right after your first date, and you were late your second date because you had to drive Anakin home. In an instant, anger seethes inside of you. You drop the ice cream and spoon on the countertop and storm over to the back of Anakin’s chair.

He turns his head to track your movements. When you reach him, you twist your fingers in his dark hair and pull. His head snaps back and he whines in protest.

“You son of a bitch,” you hiss.

“What?” he asks.

“You’ve been purposely ruining my dates by getting arrested.” He whimpers at the painful tug on his roots. “You can’t tell me it’s a coincidence that I’ve had to get you when I was on dates.”

“Let me go and we can talk about this,” he tries to reason.

“No, Anakin. You’re perfectly capable of talking to me like this.”

Anakin sighs. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“You’ve never even met him,” you scoff.

“I don’t need to! I know he isn’t.”

Anakin tries to look at you upside down. He’s playing with his lip rings again, a nervous habit of his.

“And how the fuck would you know that?” you ask.

“Because he’s not me.”

You freeze, and for a moment your grip on his hair loosens. “What?”

Anakin fights against your hold and manages to break free. He stands up from the stool and faces you, the tension in his brows obvious.

“I don’t want you to date that guy. Fuck, I don’t want you to date any guy. Everyone you’ve ever dated has been an asshole and you don’t deserve that.”

“So, what, you’re not an asshole?”

“I am, but I would treat you right.”

“By getting arrested every night for stupid shit?”

Anakin groans. “Can we please stop talking about it?”

You narrow your eyes at him as realization dawns on you. “Were you trying to cockblock me?” Anakin doesn’t respond. All he does is look down at his yellow laced boots to hide the flush on his cheeks. “It was my third date tonight and you knew that. You didn’t want me to go home with him.”

“Christ, no, it’s not like that-”

“Then what is it, Anakin?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I just don’t get what you see in him.”

“He’s nice.”

Anakin chuckles. “You don’t want nice.”

“You have no idea what I want.”

Anakin steps forward to crowd you against the counter. You’re not intimidated by him, despite the height difference. Anakin may be bigger and stronger in pretty much every physical way, but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. And you know his weak spot.

“Tell me, then. What do you want?”

“A nice guy with a good job, life goals, and no criminal record.”

Anakin places his hands on the counter on either side of your body. “But does nice make you cum?”

You gasp. “Anakin!”

“I’m serious. Does your nice, regular guy do it for you?” He looks intently at your face, searching for an answer. “Or is it only guys with tattoos and a criminal record that gets your blood pumping like this?”

“We’re friends, Anakin,” you say instead of answering his question.

“That doesn’t have to change.” You sigh and look over your shoulder to collect yourself for a moment, needing a break from Anakin’s piercing gaze. “You’re angry at me and I’m sure you’re pent up because you were planning on getting fucked tonight. Kill two birds with one stone and fuck me.”

“I can’t believe you,” you say, looking back at him.

He smirks, biting his lip. “It’ll be good, I promise. You can hit me, bite me, scratch me, whatever. Use me however you want and you’ll see why nice isn’t better.”

“Fine,” you bite.

“Where do you want me?” he asks.

You look around the open floor plan apartment. “The couch.”

“Not the bed?”

“Nice guys fuck on beds. I thought you were different.”

Anakin backs off of you and walks over to the couch, sitting lazily as we waits for you to come over. His arms are splayed over the back and his legs are spread obnoxiously. You sit on the couch next to him and look at him expectantly.

“You’re not gonna kiss me?” you ask.

Anakin shrugs. “I don’t kiss sluts.”

You raise your eyebrows at that. “I’m a slut?”

“Oh yeah,” he leans closer to you, grasping gently at your jaw. “That’s why we’re a good match. You’re a slut who needs to be fucked hard and dirty, and I’m a bad guy who loves sluts like you.”

Despite yourself, your heart rate picks up. You’re watching his lips, noticing how his tongue swipes across them. Anakin trails his hand up your thigh and inches it closer to your clothed pussy.

“I’m not gonna sit here and let you talk to me like that after the shit you pulled.”

Anakin backs off, his hands now kept to himself. “I’m all yours.”

You make a split second decision to crawl into his lap, and now that you’re seated on top of his thighs, you’re unsure what to do. His body is firm with muscle underneath you. You know he goes to the gym but you’ve never experienced his strength for yourself.

You push up the hem of his t-shirt and he takes the hint, raising his arms so you can pull it off. You’re met with the sight of his abs and chest covered with tattoos and the barbells that go through his nipples. You realize you’ve never seem him like this before and you curse yourself for not getting a glimpse sooner.

“You like what you see?” he asks cockily.

“Shut up, Anakin.”

You run your hands over his chest, dragging your nails down it to leave red marks on the pale skin. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of fucking you, but you are incredibly horny and need to get off.

“Lay down.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Talking to me like I’m a dog?”

“Yeah, I am. So be a good boy and lay down.”

You stand up from his lap and take off your bottoms while he changes positions. His legs are outstretched on the couch and his head is flat against the cushion.

You kneel on the couch, knees on either side of his head and you watch as he stares at your pussy.

“Like what you see?” you ask.

“Fuck yeah, I do. Been thinking ‘bout tasting this cunt since we met.”

Anakin reaches up to grab your hips and he pulls you down onto him. His nose hits your mound first, then you sit your pussy onto his mouth and chin.

He looks up at you from between your thighs as his tongue begins to explore between your folds. You wiggle your hips on top of him to get more friction, and to humiliate him a little by using him.

His nose bumps your clit as he licks thick stripes over your pussy. Anakin is attempting to taste every inch of you, and fuck, it feels good.

You reach down and grab his spiked hair with both hands like their reigns. You adjust yourself on his face so he’s hitting all the spots you want him to.

“Fuck, put your tongue inside me,” you order.

He does, and when you feel the hot muscle slide into you, you tug firmly on his hair. He groans into your pussy and fucks you with enthusiasm.

You pull on his hair again and his eyelids flutter. He clearly likes getting his hair pulled, and you enjoy causing him a little bit of pain.

“You got arrested all those times because you wanted me to sit on your fucking face? Why didn’t you just ask?”

You didn’t lift up so he could answer. It was a rhetorical question and if he stopped sucking on your clit, you would kill him.

“You were right, a nice guy wouldn’t let me drown him in my pussy.”

You grind down on his face and tug his head up to meet your body as you feel yourself getting closer.

“Don’t fucking stop, Anakin. I’m gonna cum,” you say.

His eyes are squeezed shut and his brows have a deep crease between them as he concentrates on pleasing you despite the ache that’s surely in his jaw.

“Fuck,” you gasp as you reach your peak.

Your thighs tighten around his head and he sucks firmly at your pussy to ride you through it. Your hips buck up, searching for more friction until your high passes.

You remain on him, but lean your hands back on his thighs to catch your breath. Your chest his heaving and your legs are shaking a bit.

Anakin pushes up on your thighs, signaling you to get off of him. You slide from his face down to his hips and straddle him there.

His hair is a mess, his face is wet, and his lips are swollen and red. “How was that?” he asks, voice rough.

“Nice,” you respond with a smirk.

Anakin glares at you. He sits up and grabs your hips tightly to hold you still as he grinds his hips on your ass. He spanks you with his right hand, making you gasp in surprise.

“I thought I got to do whatever I wanted?”

“You got your chance,” Anakin grumbles. “Now I’m not gonna be so nice.”

[moonchildstyles]

For a possible smutty gravity blurb: maybe something they haven’t tried before?? Like maybe flower watches one of his streams or something and he’s talking abt some type of kink/situation they’ve never done before and she gets all nervous bc she wants to do that but she’s kinda insecure bc why is he talking about it on stream but not to me??? And so maybe there’s a wholesome communication moment butttttt they end up doing that thing:) idk just a thought hehehehe

cw: anal play involved!! if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)

wordcount: 10.2k+

—————

The end of autumn chill swirled around (Y/N) in a fluttering gust, the ends of her hair being lifted along the sweeping breeze. Her nose felt chilled, among the elements, any bare swatch of skin prickled with goosebumps. Despite her hand being exposed to the elements, she didn't notice much of that cold with the way Harry had it wrapped in his own. Walking her out to her car, he swung their hands between them in a juvenile show of affection. Since he started, she hadn't been able to wipe the smile from her face. 

Looking up at him, seeing the tip of his own nose flushed with a chill to match that of his cheeks, her grin widened. He still had his glasses on from class, a heavy cardigan on his torso with his curls still a bit loose from his morning shower. 

"What?" he asked, glancing down at her with a wide smile, his dimples and bunny-like front teeth on display. 

"Nothing, just looking," she muttered through the curl of her lips, "You're working tonight, right?" 

"I am, yeah," he sighed, "Sorry." 

Creases pulled her brows into a furrow. "Why are you sorry? It's your job, don't be sorry." 

"I know," he drawled, the same way he always did when she had to remind him that there was no reason for guilt tied to his line of work. "But, I was wanting to spend time with you tonight instead." 

Bumping his shoulder, her gentle scolding tone melted, "You know, I could still come over." 

A shy flush bubbled to the surface of his cheeks, painting him a deeper shade of red than the wind could accomplish. "You'd distract me too much." 

"I think we could still get through," she teased, her voice lilting as she bumped her hip against his once more. 

"Maybe, another time, flower," he murmured, looking down at her with an expression she figured was better suited to the man on camera and not the physics tutor he was during the day. 

"Another time, then," she agreed, pushing back the sudden need to squirm as his eyes traced down her form. 

Approaching the parking lot, her car in the lucky space close to the building, (Y/N) pretended as if she didn't cut her pace to make slower strides. She wanted an extra couple of seconds with him, even if it meant walking like the people she complained about on campus between classes. 

"Did y'still want me to call you before bed?" 

"Yes, please," (Y/N) answered, "If you're not too tired, anyway." 

"Never too tired for you, love." 

Thinking back to the first days of knowing Harry, remembering the way he struggled to meet her eyes or would flush immediately when she said something as simple as his name, it was hard to compare him to the version that stood before her now. Openly flirting with her and agreeing to another time where she could sit in on one of his cam sessions and distract him for fun. It was no wonder she had never seen the obvious signs tying the camboy on her computer to her physics tutor. 

"Get home safe, yeah?" he murmured to her, stopping at the bonnet of her car. Using his hold on her hand he turned her to face him. 

"I'll text you," she smiled up at him, rising to her tiptoes for a moment to press her lips to his in a small kiss.

Harry chased after her, unwilling to let the kiss end just yet. He won his reward of an extra peck before she started pulling away. He'd been late to his afternoon classes one too many times after walking her back to her car, claiming he just wanted to make sure she made it there alright when they really ended up spending time kissing until his cheeks were flushed. 

"Go to class," she reprimanded him, drifting away from him towards her car. 

Keeping his hand clasped in hers, Harry elongated that contact until he couldn't anymore, his fingertips grazing hers before they dropped to his side. "Love you." 

"Love you, too, H. I'll see you tomorrow." 

A toothy grin spread across his cheeks as he looked at her, his eyes impossibly behind the lens of his glasses. "See you tomorrow.

She gave him a tinkling wave as she stepped into her car. He would stay there until he saw her pull out of the lot, keeping to his promise of ensuring she started her journey home safely (he knew too many statistics about driving accidents to freely let her go without being there in case of emergency, he'd said). But, even as she pulled out of the lot into the main road, she could see him in her rearview mirror, standing with his hands on the straps of his backpack, wide grin on his mouth. 

There was the tutor version of him again; the one that was soft and smiley, shy and wrapped in sweaters. She was going to have to tune into his stream tonight to get the other side of him.

—————

While tuning into Harry's shows were something that she always found fulfilling, there was something especially satisfying now that she knew who he was and knew him as more than just a faceless crooner. Though, she could admit, she still felt a bit shy when she logged in. 

However, it didn't take her long to sink into the night session when she tuned in after putting away her study materials for the night. Checking the time, she knew Harry would be in the middle of his stream then, the temptation too much to ignore before she was logged in and watching him as he cooed and moaned for the camera. 

By the time his screen was pulled up for her, his tip meter was already full and over the edge, his shirt off and his hand wrapped around his cock though his boxers were still on. She knew this routine—it was one of her favorites, anyway; he was in the mood to tease the audience tonight. He was going to coax them into begging for him, asking for more of daddy before he would be so inclined to give it. His chest was flushed a warm red, complimenting the black tattoos inked on his skin. Blocks of muscle were bunching and straining, his abs shining with a layer of sweat. The camera had almost everything in view, going as high up as to capture the line of his throat before cutting off at his jaw.

Plugging her headphones into her ears, she heard the labored sound of his breathing, the rich gravel of his town heavy on his tongue, and the slick sound of his fist passing over his length. 

She had her hands on her keyboard, reading to type something out for him to test if he had his eyes on the chat, but she stopped short when he resumed talking. He was detailing out a fantasy for them, one she had never heard fall from his lips before. 

"Would you like that, baby?" he asked, words drawling and dripping out of his mouth, "You'd let me try with you? You'd let me play with your cute little ass?" 

Just out of view of the camera, he threw his head back, his breathing labored. She could see the stretch of his neck, flushed with his Adam's apple bobbing. His hand on his cock quickened, his fist slapping against his skin. 

"You'd let me do that?" he continued, his voice completely breathless with his chest heaving, "Let me fuck you from the back and see where else you could take me? Play with you a little?" 

With a fluttering blink, (Y/N) couldn't take her eyes off of what her Harry was doing on screen. Though he'd never brought it up to her before, it didn't take much for her to picture what he was offering for the audience. 

She could be on her hands and knees for him, Harry kneeling behind her with his thighs smacking against the back of her own as his cock sank in and out of her pussy. Her heart was in her throat when she pictured him spreading her cheeks apart and thumbing at the second entrance he was speaking up, the second place she could "take" him like he said. 

Is that something he wanted? He wanted to play with her, see what else he could mold her body into doing for him, see what reactions he could garner from her? 

"You'd love it, sweetheart, I promise. I'd be so gentle, so gentle," he rambled, his voice sounding airy and lost the longer he sat with his fantasies. "I can put in a couple of fingers, show you how good it feels. I think I could make you cum like that. You want that?" 

Her designated nickname pricked her ears. He didn't even know she was tuning into the show yet, having been frozen since he started speaking with no comments in her name being sent through the chat yet. He was thinking of her?

The idea made her thighs tense, her stomach squeezing into a tight knot. 

There had never been a time in her life that she had considered allowing anyone to feel around anywhere other than her pussy, but the thought of Harry wanting to feel and touch her everywhere plucked at something in her. Leave it to him to make even the most unappealing of things into something she could see herself wanting. 

"Fuck you everywhere, sweetheart, that's what I want" he groaned, the pace of his hand on his cock causing the band of his underwear to slip low enough to show off his length. "Gonna cum jus' thinking about it." 

Sucking in a deep breath, (Y/N) listened to his breathing hitch and shudder, changing to match the heavy pace of his hand on his cock. He really was going to cum, that much she could tell. His abs were tight, skin flushed, and the base of his cock tight from the sliver of skin she could catch on screen. 

"C'mon, sweetheart, tell me you'd let me try with you. Let me have more of you."

 His chat was flooded with responses, going way too fast for (Y/N) to even attempt to concentrate on. She could imagine it was filled with the confirmations that he wanted, dirty promises that any of these audience members would spread open for him at any given moment. His tip meter had well exceeded the goal amount, the donations and tiny messages attached seemingly only urging him on. 

All (Y/N) could give her attention to was the amount of times he uttered her nickname, asking her if she'd let him try his fantasy with her. That he promised that he would make it good for his sweetheart, that he'd be as gentle as he could be when sinking his fingers in and fucking her everywhere he could reach. 

She felt as if she were out of her body, watching as he plucked down the band of his boxers. His heavy cock bounced up against his stomach before he caught it in his slick fist. His length was wet and flushed, precum pooling on the tip and dripping down his shaft. She was sure her mouth had dropped into a gape. This fantasy had elicited that kind of reaction from him. Her tummy tightened at the thought.

Though she was aware he was talking, spinning a story for his viewers to be entranced with, (Y/N)'s own head was spiraling around her own story. 

Would he help hold her hips up when she couldn't anymore? She already felt full enough with his cock inside her, how much more would she feel with him like that? With his stamina, how long would he have her buried against the mattress, opened up just for him? 

Before she could even be aware of the moment, she heard a familiar gasp in her headphones. Her eyes refocused on the screen, Harry's cock spurting with ropes of cum. Strings decorated his chest, slicking over his tattoos in milky pearls. He groaned, chest heaving with blushing skin. His throat was bobbing, the skin stretched with the very ends of his hair visible on the edge of the screen. She could picture his eyes closed, lavender eyelids fluttering with dark lashes. His mouth would be set into a gape, a pinch between his brows.

One of these days, she was going to end up going to his apartment after one of his streams. It wasn't fair that he was able to perform like that and she wasn't in his bed at the end of the night. 

Harry recovered soon enough, cleaning off his chest and giving his signature send off for the night. 

(Y/N) was still far from joining him in that headspace even when the screen blacked out, his page settling for the night. Her brain was still where he was describing his fantasy, where she could picture herself on all fours for him. 

Replacing her laptop lid and sliding the device away, she rolled onto her back in the folds of her comforter. Staring up at the ceiling, she attempted to gather her bearings. 

Now that more of the lust and the initial intrigue began to wane, she was left with a question. 

Why wouldn't he tell her about this? Obviously, he had quite the feelings towards this fantasy, given the fact he was so worked up, cumming before she even really had a chance to catch up. Why was his first choice to share this with strangers on his stream as opposed to telling her?

To be fair, it was a rather intimate dream, even more than what they usually did with one another. But, considering the details of their relationship—her being an avid viewer of his before knowing his identity, Harry being an active cam-personality, as well as the time they sexted with one another before even knowing who they were—there were very blurry lines when it came to what could be "too much". 

She hoped she had shown that she would be open to trying anything for him, just the same way he is with her. 

Their phone call tonight would be interesting.

—————

"Hi, flower."

Snuggled in her duvet, (Y/N) relaxed into the mattress at the sound of his voice. "Hi, H. What are you doing?" 

"About to fall asleep," he shared, his voice decidedly deeper than usual, "What about you, love? Y'get all your studying done?"

"Mhm," she hummed, casting her mind back to the hours before she tuned into his stream. They didn't seem so important compared to everything that happened after she slid her textbooks out of the way. Harry didn't even know yet that she had been present during the show, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him. A part of her wanted to wait and see if he would broach the subject of everything without her having to bring it up. "How was your show?" 

"Short," he laughed, the sound a warm vibrato, "I got too worked up and barely made it through a half an hour." 

"Yeah?" she prodded, hoping to open up the conversation for him, "What happened?" 

"Jus' m'imagination running a little too wild," he sighed, paraphrasing everything she had already heard through her headphones, "Thought about you a little too much, of course." 

The timber of his voice fell as he spoke his last statement, enticing her through the phone as if that was a hard task for him to pull off. His voice was what paid half of his bills anyway—his body handled the other fifty percent. 

(Y/N) felt a tad on the breathless side when she spoke next, settling back into the way she had integrated herself into his story; she could still see herself on her hands and knees, spread open for him with whines falling from her lips. "What do you mean?" 

"You know what I mean, sweetheart," he drawled, the smug smile on his lips audible through the phone, "You've seen the shows; you know what I think about when it comes to you." 

It was hard not to get wrapped up in his words. Even with the small plan she had in her back pocket, this being her attempt to gather more information about the fantasy she shared with strangers on the internet, it was all too easy to fall into that soft, velvet coated space with him where his words were like silk and honey dripping over her skin. He knew exactly how to talk to her. 

"Yeah," she swallowed, closing her eyes with her cheek mushed against her pillow, "But, was something different about today?" 

Harry hummed as if he were considering her question. This would be the moment, she figured. This would be when he'd bring up the fact that he wanted to try something new with her, lay her out on his bed and take her in every way he could. 

"I jus' think I miss you, that's all," he told her, deflating that anticipation ballooning in her chest. "I feel like 's been a while since I've had you all to myself, don't you think?" 

Truthfully, they spent the entire weekend at his apartment, studying and working on papers in-between cuddles on the couch and romps in his bedroom. 

"I think, we had all weekend together," (Y/N) laughed, teasing him some as if she still wasn't itching for alone time with him. 

"I guess we did, huh," Harry joined in, "Jus' not enough for me then, I guess. You've spoiled me, now I'm always going to want more." 

That declaration pinged in the back of her mind. He wanted more, that's what he's said in the stream. He wanted more of what she had to give him. 

"I can do that," she answered instinctively, her voice a bit breathy over the line. 

"Yeah? Gonna keep spoiling me?" he teased, his demeanor decidedly much more light-hearted compared to the creeping in of lust into her tone. 

"I'll try." She'd try to be everything he wanted, she decided. She was going to be the place he indulged and shared those intimate stories with, not the internet. 

A soft sigh sounded on the other line. "Y'always do, flower," he crooned before a yawn cut him off, "'M about to fall asleep, love, 'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry," she rushed out, feeling guilty now that she's trying to extract information from him when he started the call telling her just how sleepy he was, "Go to sleep and I'll see you tomorrow, right." 

"See you tomorrow," he confirmed, his voice heavy and dripping, "Love you." 

"Love you, too, H. Goodnight." 

Harry shared a final goodnight with her before the call ended with (Y/N) left in her lonely bedsheets and the new facet of him she learned today. 

Her eyes shuttered to a close as she sunk into the silence of her bedroom. She hadn't been lying when she said that she would try to do that—be that—for him. Why he didn't tell her in the first place, wasn't something she could dwell on at the moment. She needed to focus on plucking up the courage to do what she promised. 

—————

"I'm still coming over tonight, right?" 

Harry's smile bloomed over his lips, dimples deep in his cheeks. "Of course," he murmured, dipping his head down through the open window of her car to press a kiss to the apple of her cheek, "Should jus' live there, if you ask me." 

(Y/N)'s own lips were curled into a soft smile as she looked up at him. This wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time she heard of this want of his. "We'll see," she settled, "Let me know when you're back then I'll head over." 

"I will," he smiled, pressing another delicate kiss to her mouth before pulling away. "I love you." 

"I love you, too," she cooed, "I'll let you know when I make it home." 

He murmured a small thank you against her skin before pulling away. He waved a goodbye at her as he stepped back from her car, giving space for her to pull out of the parking lot. 

Flicking her gaze to the rearview mirror, Harry nothing more than a cardigan covered figure that grew blurrier and blurrier until she took the turn to leave him out of her sight, (Y/N) could feel her heart rate spike. 

She had a plan. The idea of setting it in motion elicited that nervous excitement in her. All she wanted was for it to go along without a hitch, and spend a special night with Harry. 

When she laced this whole thing together the night before, she decided that when she went over that night, she wouldn't even really address what she had heard him say in the stream. She would initiate everything, pushing a little bit for the taboo idea he had shared, telling him that she wanted to try something new with him. She would tell him that she wanted to give more of herself to him. 

It wouldn't take too much convincing, she figured. She already knew he had quite the affinity towards the idea of trying out both of her entrances. All she had to do was frame it with all the confidence she could muster. 

And, maybe a cute set of lingerie she had bought with him in mind. 

—————

The soft sound of lips parting and coming together once more filled Harry's apartment, the television screen a plain black as (Y/N) didn't want to waste time playing pretend with a movie night or watching an episode of their show. Instead, she didn't take much time before she was climbing atop his lap on the couch, her thighs astride his hips and Harry's hands on her waist.

"Sweetheart," he sighed into her mouth, his grip on her waist tightening as if she would slip away without him, "I've missed you." 

(Y/N)’s own hands cradling his jaw, thumbing at the planes of his cheeks. Tipping her head in an effort to deepen the kiss, her tongue sweeping across his own, her nose the side of his own. "I missed you too, daddy." 

She could feel the way his title affected him, his cock hard and heavy against her own core. He used his hold on her as leverage to help grind her down against him, (Y/N) practically able to feel the ridge of his head and the pulse of his heart through the thin fabric of her shorts. His grey sweats left little to the imagination. 

"Say it again." 

Moaning into his mouth, a crease knitted her brows the further she sunk into the moment. This was her chance, she was vaguely aware of. She was so ready for him, she lacked those nerves that came with vulnerability and she doubted Harry would be self-conscious enough to deny any indulgence into his fantasies. 

"Daddy," she moaned, leaning into him that much more. 

Snaking a hand down his form, (Y/N) followed the line of his shoulder down to his forearm. She reached to grab at his wrist before guiding his hand down lower on her body. Harry pliantly let her move him until they reached the full of her ass, the plush skin denting under Harry's fingertips. She pressed back against him, encouraging him to grab and play with her just like he said he wanted. 

Harry was all but melting between her thighs. His kissing was growing lax and heavy, his tongue playing with her own in languid strokes. His heartbeat was racing but there was no urgency in the way he handled her. He luxuriated in every touch, every stroke, every grab. 

It didn't take long for him to bring his other hand down to match the first, gripping her bottom in the span of his palms. Her skin felt flush everywhere he touched her, making it easy for her to push back against his hands and urge him to take the more he had been searching for. 

"What's gotten into you?" he murmured, his voice heavy and watered down through the interrupting kisses. "Not that I don't like it, but you're being different, sweetheart." 

To his credit, she was definitely going out of her way and initiating more, asking for more, doing more than she ever had before. She was always perfectly content with Harry calling the shots and sinking into that persona he felt comfortable in when it came to the bedroom. While she wasn't planning on taking that power from him tonight, she still had an end goal in mind that she was willing to guide him into meeting her at. 

"Sorry," she answered, taking her lips to the corner of his mouth as they caught their breath, "I can stop. I just didn't realize how much I missed you, that's all." 

"No, no, don't slow down," he urged her, pulling her flush against him with his hands on her ass, "Jus' want you to talk to me. What do you want? What do you want daddy to give you?" 

Traveling down his neck, her lips never left his skin as she dragged a string of kisses over the slope of his throat. "I want to try something new," she whispered, hiding in his neck as she spoke. 

"New?" he clarified, his voice vibrating through his throat, "What do you mean, hm?" 

Was there a pretty way to phrase what she was going to ask for? (Y/N) wasn't sure, but she was going to try her best. As lusty as she was, she still was a little too shy for the more vulgar of phrases.

Instead, she pressed her bottom back against his palms, the ridges of his palms and the digits of his fingers could be felt through her sleepover shorts. "I want more of this," she told him, nose skimming his hairline with her eyes shuttered closed. "Inside." 

All at once, clarity seemed to move into Harry. 

Shifting his hold on her, one palm returned to the curve of her waist and the other landed on the back of her neck. He drew her away from her hiding place, forcing her to meet his gaze. 

The lush green of his eyes had been depleted into something dark and foresty, a thin ring around a dilated pupil. 

Fluttering her eyes in a blink, she dropped her gaze down to the swollen pillows of his lips. "Why'd you stop?" 

A lopsided curve tugged at the corner of his lips. His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her jaw in his palm, thumbing at dip under her chin. "Wanted to talk to you for a second, that's all." 

Her heartbeat sped up in her chest, though no longer because of the lust she had feathering through her veins. "About what?" 

Amusement flickered through his gaze. "About what y'jus' said to me." 

Underneath her, Harry looked every bit the boy she had met in her physics course, the one that was too shy to meet her eyes and overly apologetic any time he had to scoot past her. He was the one that had tutored her through the toughest lectures and exams, willing to take his time and teach her things she wouldn’t have understood without him. She remembered him with flushed cheeks and chunky glasses, always warm under a heavy cardigan and a shy smile. 

But, he wasn't acting like that boy. He was acting like the performer he was on screen. He was coaxing and teasing her, easing her into spilling her guts and cumming for him the second he requested as much. It wasn't fair; he was too cute, making her feel so safe to let go and be whatever she wanted to be, but entirely too hot to let her hand a clear head. 

When she didn't answer, the cam performer continued, "Y'said y'wanted more of this, right?" He emphasized his question with the hand on her waist sliding down until he was warming the curve once more, fingers denting the soft flesh.

With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) gave a quiet nod of her head. 

Harry hummed at her nonverbal answer. He tipped his chin and pressed a small kiss to her lips. It was a distraction as he led both his hands to sit on her bottom. This time, he made a point of sliding them under the hem of her shorts, skin to skin. 

"What did y'mean by inside, flower?" 

(Y/N) bought herself time by pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. There was that bashfulness rearing its head once more. She would have to tap into his confidence if he wanted her to be blunt. 

"You know," she murmured as if that were a real answer. 

"Do I?" he prodded, smiling into their kiss, "Because I think it sounds like y'want me to play with your cute little ass. Is that right?" 

Her chest expanded with a shuddering breath. "Uh-huh." 

Buttoning his mouth against hers one more time, he shared a quick kiss with her before pulling away. His pupils were still dilated and warm, but something was decidedly softer when his gaze met hers. 

"Is that why y'seem so nervous, right now?" 

(Y/N) clammed up at his words. He wasn't supposed to be so observant. 

"I'm not nervous," she argued, her hands falling to the planes of his chest. 

"Yes, you are," he countered, just as sweet as he smiled up at her, "And that's okay. I jus' want to know where your heads at. I didn't know y'ever wanted something like this." 

She shrugged, dropping her eyes to where her hands rested on his chest. She could feel the hard muscle underneath the soft fabric of his top. "I only want to try it with you." 

"Yeah?" he said, sounding a little too cocky to be safe, "And why y'didn't y'tell me before?" 

Before she could think much better of it, the adrenaline and endorphins in her system doing their job, (Y/N) fired back, "Why didn't you tell me?" 

She watched as Harry's brows creased at her words. "What do you mean, love?" 

Floundering over her words, (Y/N) knew she couldn't stop here. She had already started, there was no way of stopping in the middle of it all. "I saw your stream the other night," she blurted out, getting it out of the way and off of her chest, "The one where you talked about this stuff." 

Realization dawned on him then. "I didn't know y'were listening to that one." 

"I was going to comment or say something so you knew I was there," she explained, "But I had come in halfway through and you were already talking, and I've just never heard you talk about wanting that before. I was... surprised."

"Bad surprised or good surprised?" 

"Good surprised," she admitted, peeking at him through her lashes, "But, a little bit bad surprised because I had to hear about it through a stream and not from you." 

Adjusting his hold on her, Harry held her with an arm looped around her middle with his other hand still warming her jaw. Hugging her to his chest, she had no choice but to look up at him and meet his eyes. "I wasn't trying to keep anything from you, you know." 

"I know," she reasoned, understanding that part of his job was that it was an outlet for some of the more vulnerable things he hadn't admitted aloud yet, "But it sounded like you were talking about me, and when we talked later you said you were thinking about me while you were streaming. If I hadn't been watching, though, I still wouldn't have known." 

He took in her every word, listening to what she had to say before speaking. "I don't want to push you too far, that's all. I like what we have—I like making love to you,"—the phrase always brought a smile to his face when he said it, especially when (Y/N) grew shy—"and I didn't want it to be any different."

Pursing her lips, (Y/N) attempted to understand what he was getting at. "So, you don't actually want to? It was just a stream thing?"  

"Oh, no," Harry stopped her, a huff of his laughter fanning across her skin, "I definitely want to, trust me. I want you to want it too, and not jus' because y'feel like it would make me happy." 

"I feel like we do a lot of things because we know it makes each other happy, though," she started, maneuvering her arms until they were looped around his neck with her fingers edging into his hairline on the nape of his neck, "I don't think that's a bad thing as long as we're both comfortable, right?" 

"You do watch scary movies with me," he smiled, drawing a small breath of laughter out of her lungs, "But this is a little different, don't you think? I don't want to do anything with your body that you're not one hundred percent excited for. 'M only happy if you are too." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she leaned into his hand on her jaw. "I am excited, though—I want to do this. I just wish you had told me first." 

"Me too," he smiled, "Promise I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, I was only trying not to scare you." 

"I know," she murmured, turning her face until she pressed her lips into a small kiss against his palm, "I'm not scared—you already promised you'd be gentle." 

His grin widened at her reference to his stream, surely remembering his own fantasy in detail now that she was offering it up. "I did, didn't I?"

 "Mhm," she hummed, using that hold she had around his neck to draw him nearer, "You said a lot of things." 

"And, you liked it." 

"I did," she confirmed, the tip of her nose grazing his, "You don't make it sound scary or gross, or anything?" 

"Yeah?" he laughed, tipping his chin until he could press a tiny peck to her lips, "How do I make it sound?" 

"Really hot," she admitted, "I forgot everything I studied about as soon as I started listening to you." 

Harry gave a disapproving hum, teasing her. Resting the pad of his thumb against the full of her lips, he kept her from kissing him again, leaving her to listen as he spoke. "We'll have to work on that again later then, won't we? Go to the library again for some motivation?" 

The reminder of the time they had gone to the library and Harry helped her through that mental block with his hand between her legs was enough to get her squirming in his lap once more. He had to know exactly where her mind had gone when she saw his grin stretch his dimpled cheeks. 

"But, I should probably take care of you now," he mused, finally slipping his thumb from her lips as he smeared a kiss across her pout. "Y'deserve it for being so patient and talking to me about what you want." 

"I do," she absently agreed, melting into him. She was willing to take whatever he would give. 

(Y/N) indulged in the pillow of his lips, parting her mouth and taking the taste of him across her tongue. It was easy to slip back into that place with him, where her thoughts were wisps and her desires were candles lit aflame. His cock was still heavy in his lap, right where her core was resting with spread thighs, his lips still swollen, and skin still warm. 

"I love you," he murmured on a breath, breaking away though he didn't stray too far from her with his forehead resting on hers, "Let's go to bed, sweetheart." 

She let out a dreamy okay, following after him once he had her settled on her feet, back towards his bedroom. They didn't bother to close the door behind them, in too much of a rush before Harry was roughly handling her to be tossed amongst the folds in his bedding. 

A bright peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at the act, her eyes creasing and cheeks split wide. Harry climbed his bed with a matching smile, hovering over her. 

"So pretty, you know that," he crooned, dropping a kiss on the apple of her cheek before he began his own pathway across her skin. He followed the soft planes of her face, grazing her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. (Y/N) couldn't help the soft breaths of laughter that followed the more affection he piled on her. 

"You're pretty," she answered through her smile, placing her hands on his cheeks to keep him from straying too far once he finally rested on her lips. 

A sly smile on his mouth kept her from getting a real kiss from him. He was bubbling up with something, she was sure. 

"I know," he teased, "You think 'm pretty enough to play with your cute butt, so." 

"Don't say it like that," she whined though her complaint held no grit through her toothy smile. She made a halfhearted attempt at pushing him away, though Harry stayed right where he was above her. 

"Am I wrong? I seem to remember a certain conversation we had just a minute ago." 

She didn't bother to answer him, instead smushing her lips against his in a silencing kiss. It was a bit off center, not quite matching up with her nose smushed against his cheek, but that didn't matter much to either of them. Harry happily fell into the contact without a single complaint.

Soon enough the silly kiss had melted into something serious, warm and languid. He laid heavily between her legs, his cock straining against his sweats with her loose shorts doing little to cover herself. His chest was pressed against hers, heartbeats side by side with every breath marked by the extra push of his blocky muscles against her breasts. 

By the time her breath was taken from her lungs, Harry pulled away first. He skimmed his kiss-swollen lips over her skin until he was hovering by her ear. "Y'really want to try it out tonight?" 

It didn't take a second thought before she was nodding her head.

"We'll go slow, (Y/N)," he cemented, pulling away to match her eyes intensely, "Jus' tell me to stop if you change your mind." 

"I will," she answered, knowing he wouldn't move on until he had that verbal confirmation from her, 

He gave her a pleased smile before he dipped down and pressed another small kiss to her lips. "Flip over for me, sweetheart." 

The flames in her stomach pitched into a bonfire at his command. That had been exactly what she was picturing. Harry gave her space to roll onto her tummy, helping her move until she was on her knees with legs spread and cheek pressed against his pillow. 

"This alright?" he checked in, dragging his warm hands down the backs of her thighs. 

She nodded with a pleasant smile on her mouth. "This is how I pictured it," she murmured.

Harry's touch solidified at her words, less glancing fingertips and more weight on his palms as he caressed her skin and felt every inch of the plush fullness. "You pictured it?

Her ribcage practically rattled against her heartbeat as he started pulling down her shorts and panties. He helped her navigate pulling them off of her bent legs and ankles with the way her mind was too preoccupied. Why didn't she just show up naked? It would have made this so much easier. 

"Uh-huh," she breathed, answering his question, "I-I wasn't sure what you had in mind, but I hoped it was like this." 

Harry hummed, bending down to press a kiss to the small of her back. He pushed the hem of her loose shirt up, revealing more and more of her skin though they were both too in a rush to take the time to completely undress her. Soon enough, Harry's shirt joined her shorts and underwear on the floor, his sweats and boxing being all that clothed him for the moment. 

"I have lots of ideas, sweetheart," he murmured, starting a path of planted kisses on the hills of her spine. "We'll only get through a couple today, but if y'like it, we can try so much more." 

The promise that there was more he wanted to show her, more times that she would be wrapped in his sheets, more of him that she would accept without a doubt, was enough to get her pussy fluttering. 

Going down the line, Harry started kissing over the globes of her bottom, delicate sweeps of his lips over the sensitive skin. She couldn't help the goosebumps that touched her skin, unfamiliar with the feeling of anything other than his strong hands skimming this part of her. 

"Gonna eat you out first, okay, flower?" he crooned, his words fanning out across her skin, "We'll start there, and we'll see how you feel." 

"Okay, Harry," she sighed, trusting him from where she lay with her cheek squished into the pillow and eyes fluttering to a close. The only thing she didn't love about this position: she couldn't see him. 

A beat later, she could feel the warmth of his breath fan across her core. She tensed some at the surprise, feeling her insides squeeze knowing that he was that close. She only had enough time to register that exhale before the flat of his tongue was licking through her wetness. Her own breath was sucked out of her lungs at the first touch against her clit, her folds being spread wide open around the width of his tongue. 

Sagging towards the bed, she arched her back that much more for him, presenting any and everything for him. Harry wrapped his hands around her thighs, palms warming the tops while his fingers wrapped around to the side insides and dented the delicate skin. His grip was steadying as he pointed the tip of his tongue and explored her opening, her walls pulsing. 

An all too smug breath of laughter fell from his lips when he pulled away. "Feeling good, sweetheart? Tell me." 

"So good, H," she bubbled immediately, no other thoughts attempting to take over at the moment. 

"Who?" he pressed, his hands on her thighs tightening though he didn't dip back down to her pussy like she wanted. 

"So good, daddy," she corrected, all but keening into him, hoping she gave the right answer and would feel more of him sliding through her folds and tasting her wetness. 

"That's better, sweetheart," he praised her.

With that, Harry's tongue was once more slipping through her wetness. He smeared his tongue across her core, taking in everything she had to offer while leaving a mess behind, comprised of both her slick and his saliva. Wet sounds filtered through his bedroom, along with the heady breathing coming from her and the contented noises coming from Harry. 

By the time (Y/N) had her slick covering her thighs, enough wetness to make her worry she was going to start dripping over his bed (though, seeing as how he enjoyed making her squirt, she doubted he would have minded), Harry began focusing his tongue over her pulsing entrance. More and more slick wept from her hole as he pointed the tip and slipped inside amongst her tight walls. She shuddered at the feeling, her breathing hitching as she attempted to bring in a deep breath. 

Before she could even register that she was missing contact on her clit, his fingertips were pressing against the bud. Tight circles were drawn around the top of her slit, her legs beginning to shake now that there was so much moire to focus on but less room in her brain to spare. He kept his other hand steady on her thigh, keeping her from falling while simultaneously being her grounding anchor. 

Her wetness dipped down his fingers, tainting his palm with a thin glimmer. Harry pulled away for a heartbeat, his breathing heavy. She could imagine the shine on his chin and nose, the flush to his cheeks, and the way he would be staring at her with intensity in his eyes. She could feel that heated gaze as his fingers trailed through her messy slit. 

When he reached her hole, he lingered for only a second before he was skipping upwards. Though (Y/N) knew this was coming, she still felt her heart skip a beat, her breathing shatter as she waited with bated breath.

He brought his slick fingers to her second entrance. In an instant, (Y/N) felt herself tense up, the foreign feeling shocking her. 

"'S alright, flower," Harry crooned to her, his words fanning across the rounded globes of her ass, "Jus' relax. 'S only me, and 'm going to be gentle, remember?" 

"I remember, I remember," she muttered in a rambling blurt. Honestly, if she had been asked what exactly she was remembering at that moment, she wouldn't have been able to give a straight answer. 

Working her through that initial shock, Harry circled his slick fingers around the puckered skin, delving his tongue back into her pussy to give her something familiarly fantastic to cling to. Her legs took as she took in the duo of feelings, her clit being laved over by his tongue with a part of her she never thought could be stimulated now pulling the breath from her lungs.

"Still feeling good, love?" he asked, drawing away for just long enough to ask before he was licking through her folds once more. 

It didn't take a second thought before she was breathing out, "Uh-huh, uh-huh." 

There was nothing else for her to say—especially if she wanted to sound coherent. Though it was still odd, the feeling of his wandering fingers, every pass of his fingertips over the tight opening had a pulse ringing through her insides. The flames in her stomach were tight and warm, coiling into a burn. 

"I knew you'd like it, sweetheart," he mumbled against her pussy, "Told you I'd be gentle. Jus' wanna open you up a little for me to fit a finger in, is that okay?" 

(Y/N) felt her eyes squeeze to a shut, creases knitting her brows together. "It's okay," she breathlessly answered, half-parroting his words back to him as that was all she could process in the moment. 

A groan rumbled through Harry's chest, the sound vibrating over her core. "You want that? Want me to finger your tight little ass, love?" 

Until Harry, those words would have turned her off, had her curling in on herself and ending whatever encounter had gone south, but hearing the vulgar request in his dulcet tone, rounded with lust, had both her entrances pulsing around nothing. 

"Tell me you want it, sweetheart." 

"I want it, daddy," she breathed out, a short whine cutting her off when he thumbed at her slick rim, trying to spread her open just like he said, "Please." 

"You're doing so good, my love," he murmured, dropping a kiss to the sensitive crease just between her thigh and the slick spread of her core. "'M going to give you everything y'want. I jus' need you to relax." 

Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) sagged towards the mattress. She thought she had been relaxed, easing into everything and welcoming his touch. "I-I'm trying," she whined, "I thought I was doing good." 

"You are, flower, I promise," he soothed her, another kiss to the slick skin, "Y'might be thinking about it too much, that's all. Y'need a distraction, don't you?" 

(Y/N) didn't want to be distracted from a single touch he gave her, if she was being honest. She wanted to feel everything, know where his hands were, and find what she liked most. But, she supposed she might be too aware of every graze of his fingers, her body instinctively tensing and moving. 

"I think you do, sweetheart," Harry continued when he didn't get a response. 

The bed shifted behind her then, his hand stilling on her backside before she could feel his hips pressing against her ass. His thighs were lined up against her own with his hard cock sliding through the wetness of her folds. 

A gasp fell from her lips, the tip of his heavy prick nudging her clit. She felt her insides pulse, including the already tight hole he was trying to work open. She keened back against him, slicking his shaft and the trimmed patch of hair at the base. 

Smug laughter sounded behind her, Harry sounding much too pleased with himself and the reaction he could garner from her. 

"Stay still for me, love," he instructed her, "'M gonna help you." 

The steadying hand he had placed on her hip disappeared then, instead fisting at his cock before he was nudging the head into her entrance. Slick with both his saliva and every weep of her wetness, he slid in with no problems, a wet slap sounding once he bottomed out. (Y/N) reveled in the familiar feeling of fullness, completely spread wide open for his cock to push through her tight walls. She could feel the ridge of his head, the length of his veins, the slight curve that aimed him perfectly at the soft spot on her walls. 

She would never be used to the depth he reached in her, remembering the way he had teased such a thing on a stream before they even knew one another. She had figured it was nothing more than fantasy talk back then, something to get his viewers going as well as feed into something Harry could cum to. Now, she knew that was all very much the truth, feeling the stretch in her own body as if he were nudging as deep as her stomach. 

"Better, sweetheart?" he muttered, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward. He kept her on balance with his hand returning to her hip. Slick noises erupted around his cock as he sunk in, his hips slapping against her thighs. 

The pads of his fingers circled her back entrance through his distraction, though her attention had trouble splitting between his heavy cock and the foreign touch. She could feel the way he did his best to gently spread her open, easing her into being able to take one of his thick fingers.

"B-Better, daddy," she cried, reaching blindly for this hand on her hip. She needed something gentle and familiar, she decided. 

Harry welcomed her innocent touch, lacing their fingers together over the full of her hip together though her hold was decidedly looser given the monumental distractions she was going through. 

"Good," he huffed, matching that of a particularly hard thrust he gave. 

In that same moment, (Y/N) could feel the tip of one of his fingers slide inside her untouched opening. She gasped, mouth dropping open into a gape. 

It was more startling than anything, the small intrusion causing her body to tense up. 

"No, don't do that, sweetheart," Harry gently scolded her, keeping the pacing of his hips as he fucked her pussy, "Stay relaxed for me. You're doing so good, no need to be scared." 

She wanted to listen to him, she really did, but she didn't know how to relax. All she could manage was closing her eyes, flexing her fingers around his own, and focusing on the familiar parts of his touch. She tried to right her breathing, fix the uneven shuddering and replace it with something steady and consistent. 

"That's so much better, sweetheart," he cooed, dropping down to press a kiss to her shoulder, "Keep going, love. 'S jus' me." 

While she didn't feel as if she were relaxing any considering how tightly wound her tummy was and the pulsing of her walls, she was happy to hear that she was easing up for him. Her efforts increased tenfold when that same slick finger pushed deeper inside of her, the knuckle of his digit catching before he could go further. 

(Y/N) couldn't have prepared for how full she felt with his cock running through her walls and the small intrusion of his finger in her backside. The pace of her breathing she had tried to curate, the even intakes and exhales, was thrown out the window the second she allowed herself to take in the full breadth of that feeling. 

She could feel him everywhere: the slap of his thighs against the back of her own, his hand in hers, his cock spreading her open, and his finger venturing into her ass for the first time. 

There was no room in her head for anything but him; no wispy thoughts or anything that could form coherent words. She was drifting through his bedsheets as he did as he pleased with her. 

With her attention only on him and he he felt, she could feel the twitch of his cock through her walls, everything stretched so tight around him. He barely stroked his finger through her back entrance, pulling it out the smallest amount before pushing back through. He was curating two opposing rhythms, leaving a part of him inside her at all times. 

The thought had a broken moan leaving her lips.

"Fuck, you're so hot, baby," Harry muttered, the burn of his gaze trapped on her ass, "Gonna make me cum just from seeing my finger in your ass." 

"I-I—" she floundered, unsure of where her mind was as well as the moisture in her throat, "I-I want—daddy." 

A particularly harsh thrust was delivered, the bones of his hips pressing hard into her thighs. Another tiny bit of his finger sunk into her backside, enough to have (Y/N)'s back arching. 

"What do you want from daddy, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice strained and thin. His composure was waning. 

What did she want from him? What else could he give her that she wasn't already reveling in?

"C'mon, love," he coaxed, though his voice was decidedly harsher than she'd heard it before, "Don't go dumb on me yet. I still wanna hear my smart girl talk to me." 

If he thought that would help clear her mind, he was sorely mistaken when she felt another gush of her wetness seep around his cock, her clit throbbing, and walls pulsing around everything inside. He could barely move his finger though the fact that she was aware it was inside was just as effective as feeling him slide through her virgin opening.

"Oh," he sighed, bottoming out with hard and fast thrusts against her, "You liked that, my love? I'll have to remember that, won't I?" 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh." (Y/N) nodded her head with only half of her attention on what he was saying. 

He pulsed his hand around her own, keeping her steady and with him. "We'll have to save that for next time though, sweetheart. I think you're about to cum with daddy, right?" 

That was what she had wanted. The last thing he could give her was his release landing across the backs of her thighs. She could only blindly nod against the pillow, her hair sure to be a mess by the time she would actually start to care about anything other than her lust-filled body. 

"I can't last much longer, love," Harry started, his words emphasized with the way he had to grit them out, "But, I need you to cum first. Wanna see you cum with your pussy and ass filled with me. Make me proud, sweetheart." 

For (Y/N), time stopped right there. All that she was aware of was the man at her back and the perfect ribbon in her tummy that had unraveled in the most spectacular of fashion. Her mouth dropped open to a silent gape, nothing coming out given the fact she couldn't take any air in. Her head was cloudy and warm, matching the rest of her body. Points of clarity came in the form of Harry's hand on her hip, the tap of his balls against her clit, and the sharp unfamiliarity of the stretch of her second entrance. 

That was the only reason she was aware of the fact he had pulled out. She mourned the loss of him inside her—in both places—until she felt him cum against her pussy, warm ropes sticking to her skin. The mess between her legs was now a perfect miss of the both of them, dripping down the inside of her thighs.

Aftershocks came in the form of lingering spurts from Harry, and (Y/N)'s walls pulsing around nothing. She couldn't be sure when she returned to the land of the living, but when the details of Harry's room came back into focus, she swore her vision was sharper. There was a joke about good sex there, something about Harry being her cure-all, but there was no way she could even attempt a tease at the moment. 

She knew Harry was with her once more when he dropped down to press a set of kisses on the small of her back. His hands were on her hips, one still holding tightly to her own, while the other kept her steady as she began to lose her balance and sink towards his bed.

"You with me, (Y/N)?" he murmured against her skin, his voice gruff.

Flexing her fingers in his as a response, (Y/N) gave a small nod. "I'm here." 

"Oh, love," he sighed, draping himself over her back, his lips pressing to the line of his jaw and soft of her cheek, "You did so good, I love you so much. Did that feel alright? I didn't hurt you right?" 

"No, no, I felt really good," she breathed, a soft chord of laughter swaying out amongst her words, "I think I almost blacked out." 

"Oh?" he sounded, his own peals of laughter following right after, "In a good way, right?" 

Letting go of his hand, (Y/N) brought it up to pat at his cheek. "In a good way." 

"Good," he crooned, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of her hand before he started extracting himself from her. "I'm gonna get some things to clean us up, 'kay? Stay right here." 

He must think he's so funny, she thought, but she didn't have it in her to play his back and forth at the moment. He could win this round.

By the time Harry returned with wet cloths and a pair of his shorts for her to borrow, all of the slick release coating her core and the inside of her thighs had cooled. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he took his time wiping away. He eased up around her sensitive spots, apologizing with kisses to the backs of her thighs and promises to be gentle. 

"Did y'really like it, (Y/N)? Everything we did?" Harry asked after a moment, wiping down the insides of her thighs. 

She bit at the full of her bottom lip, unsure of how to articulate what she had experienced. "It felt weird," she started, unable to find any other word to describe how she felt, "But, I liked it—a lot. I think it helped since it was you, and I love you, but it was... good." 

"Jus' good? I thought y'said you almost blacked out?" 

Blindly swatting behind her, she landed her hand in the soft swirls of his hair. She playfully pulled at the strands. "I'm too tired to play right now, stop," she laughed.

Her reprimanding hold of his hair turned into gentle carding through the curls as he took care of her. A beat passed, Harry finishing cleaning her up before he helped her into her borrowed shorts. Collapsing onto his bed, her back bouncing over the springs, she figured laundry, including the clothes on the floor, would have to wait for now.

Hovering above her, Harry looked to her with his clear green eyes—the same ones she had seen that first time in her physics class after he had taken a leap and took the seat beside her. She would be eternally grateful he had the confidence to do as much, otherwise she would have never learned just how many greens were in his irises.

"Really," he started out, voice gentle and quiet like a secret, "'M really happy y'felt good. It obviously worked very well on me too." 

(Y/N)'s lips turned into an amused smile as she reached up and pushed back the flop of curls covering his forehead. "See, this is why you tell me things like this first—not the stream." 

It was a lighthearted tease that had his mouth splitting into a smile, bunny teeth and dimples on display. He dropped his head to press an innocent kiss to the tip of her nose, though it wasn't quite as effective through his smile. 

"I've definitely learned my lesson, flower," he murmured.

(Y/N) could only tip her chin and press her lips to his. 

—————

this is.....very different SHFUSHFSUH thank u sm for reading, thank you to whoever requested, sorry for any mistakes and if theres any other ideas anyone else wants to see please send them in!

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Nov 4th

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1. A) Hello! I am looking for a couple of pics that I have been unable to find. They may have already been found, but if so, I am missing them. First one is Wei Wing dies at the siege and is transported back a thousand years or so, before the sects started up I believe. He becomes immortal or a god, can't remember which and travels to learn other magic and cultivations while he waits for the years to catch up to when he was born. I think its a wangxian pairing, but not sure.

B) Hello! Looking for a fic where Wei Ying is not oblivious to his feelings for Lan Zhan. He asks Lan Zhan on basically a date to the town, and the part I remember is he deliberately didn't take an umbrella/coat because according to Nie Huaisang, it would be a perfect romantic opportunity to have Lan Zhan offer the umbrella/coat or vice versa. Lan Zhan thinks Wei Wing is just playing with him and I remember a scene where Wei Ying proves his intention with a kiss and Lan Zhan believes him. @marietsy40-blog

1A)

FOUND? An Unusual Betrothal series by ahealthydoseof (G, 74k, wangxian, time travel, age difference, immortality, BAMF WWX, younger LWJ, older WWX, misunderstandings, fluff & crack, worried parents, rabbits, food, non-sexual intimacy, murder, fix-it of sorts, developing relationship, humor, arranged marriage, jealousy, friendship, family feels, dysfunctional family, fatherhood, angst, hurt/comfort, mentor WWX, natural disasters, sworn brotherhood, serious injuries, kissing)

1B)

FOUND? 🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 887k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

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2. hi! i’m looking for a fic where wangxian friends and family try to arrange them to get married (i think maybe post sunshot campaign). lxc brought in jgy to help him with negotiations, while jyl and jwy bring nhs to help them. they try to find wx to tell them only to find out they basically ran of and eloped (without knowing that this was happening). the fic should be completed and around 3-8 chapters. thanks! @monyeorel

FOUND? i believe that we can make it (i believe in all of you) by Stratisphyre (T, 17k, WangXian, 3Zun, Canon Divergence, Wedding Planning for Love and Justice, Golden Core Reveal, Getting Together, Everybody Lives)

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3. Hello I want ask something... I can't seem to find this fanfiction I have once read long time ago but this is mainly wangxian ofc and what I remember that this fanfic is modern, wei ying I think he was going to debut or not? Lan zhan is his teacher? Since he called him xiansheng (something like that) Jiang yanli is married to Jin Zixuan in this. Wei ying keeps on updating on social media something like that.

FOUND? 🧡 I Don’t Want to Debut! by countingcr0ws (G, 56k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality show, Idols, Actor LWJ, Forced Contestant WWX, Tencent’s 2021 Idol Producer)

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4. For fic finder: the allied sects are losing the sunshot campaign so they ask for the aid of the immortal yilling patriarch. He agrees, in return for lwj's hand in marriage. Lwj is very concerned but he gets to burial mounds and finds things are fine actually but there are a lot of unruly children. He starts teaching them and living life, confused by his mostly cold and distant but sometimes friendly husband. Turns out wwx is falling in love with him but thinks lwj is a spy for the jin and after the tiger seal, and married him because he wanted to catch him in the act and make him be a double agent. Lwj is unaware that the jin sect even has designs against his husband because he hates politics. He discovers this after he nearly dies defending A-Qing from an attack by Xue Yang and wwx comes clean. I could say more because i remember a lot about this fic but not the important information like name or author. Thanks!

FOUND! 💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27, Mojo’s post)

NOT FOUND!🔒and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They’re Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending) Pretty sure the bunch of kids in the burial mounds fic sounds like Varnes' delightful sound of music au "and having a wonderful time" but there are at least three fics I've read that come close to that.

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5. good dayy!! do you guys know this story. i forgot the title and been using modern with magic tag but i cant find it. i dont know anymore but the story is like this:

its a modern with magic, madam lan is one of the teacher and one of her student is wwx. there's a scene where wwx visited his brother in the alpha dormitory then lwj saved him(?) from some rude alpha. there's two version of it, alpha lwj x omega wwx and omega lwj and alpha wwx. there's a mission(?) and he met wwx outside the university, they also shared a room. omega wwx also has a solo room for being the only male omega.

the omega lwj version of it is lwj owns a 2 stuffed toy bunnies, he told wwx their names and wwx said it to madam lan.

im not sure if im mixing different stories or if i remember it right but i hope u'all can help me. thank uu in advance!

FOUND? 🔒 Other Half series by Hanguang_Jun, Wuxian_Biscuit (Charlie_Biscuit) (E, 819k, WangXian, JC/LWJ, WWX/Self, LWJ/Self, LWJ/WWX/JC, LWJ/JGY/WWX, Roleplay, Fantasy, Magic, Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, Switch WangXian, Bottom LWJ, Alpha LWJ, Slow Burn, Omega WWX, eventual mpreg, Alpha/Alpha, LWJ gets off on submitting to another alpha, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Knotting, If LWJ being submissive puts you off then do not read this, Top JC, Top WWX, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, From Sex to Love, Tentacle Porn, Safewords, Rude LWJ, A bit of magic recreational drug use, Sex Toys, Lingerie, Omega/Omega, Alpha JC, a/o and o/o and a/a, Selfcest, A bit of dark wangxian (but it's not permanent), Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Accidental Voyeurism, JC does not interact with wangxian, Intersex Omegas, Pregnancy, Consensual Non-Consent, Vaginal Sex, Bondage, Omega JGY, Bodyswap, Dubious Consent, Due to Basic Premise, Knifeplay, Choking, Birth)

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6. Hello, I am searching for a modern wangxian fic on ao3 where wei ying is invited in Jiang yanli's wedding. Nie huaisang is the wedding planner and Meng yao is his assistant. The wedding is at the time of Christmas and they played a game that each one will send another a gift till Christmas and the receiver's name is decided through lottery. Lan wangji was the one who was giving gifts for this and wei ying was giving gifts to yu ziyuan. All the names will be revealed at the day of Christmas.

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7. I don’t know if it got deleted or I just didn’t bookmark it but I’m looking for a fic with Fox!WWX. LWJ is maybe a dragon or just a regular cultivator who helps him get all of his 9 tails through dual cultivation so it’s rated M or E. i feel bad i don’t remember much more but any leads will be greatly appreciated 🥺 thank you for all your work

FOUND? 💖 Paths of Light and Darkness Converge by ataratah (E, 30k, wangxian, fox WWX, dragon LWJ, secret identity, non-human genitelia, crack treated seriously, fluff, angst w/ happy ending)

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8. im looking for a fic where Wie ying became a god after death saved Mo Xuanyu and adopted him when he trayed to bring him back . wie ying changed his hair to white and his eyes red @leo1fan

FOUND? Wuqian, the Local God of Yiling by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (M, 80k, wangxian, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, major character death, canon divergence, angst w/ happy ending, god WWX, Chinese mythology & folklore, pining, temporary character death, WIP)

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9. hi im looking for this fic where xue yang and xiao xingchen are dating, and then one day song lan (xiao xingchen's ex) comes back so xue yang lets those two get together even though he feels very jealous, and then one day him and song lan hook up and later they become a throuple @ashxi-wx

FOUND? Fine Line by fouxes (arundels) (E, 13k, SL/XXC/XY, Modern, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Minor Violence, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, Love Rivals to Lovers, XXC is kinda useless in this sorry, Not Super Healthy Relationship Dynamics, but nothing crazy terrible, also XY is a cage fighter cos why not) it used to be posted under a different pseudonym of theirs

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10. I’m trying to find a reaction fic that takes place after the siege on Burial Mounds. I remember that the sect leaders are having a meeting at Lotus Pier and get trapped in a room by Chenqing to watch WWX’s life. Suibian also later gets involved and they also get LWJ and a-yuan to join.

FOUND? Seeking Solace by Devourer Of Worlds (Taer01), DragonHeart (Taer01), Taer01 (M, 124k, WangXian, Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Hurt, Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Canon Divergence)

FOUND? Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, WIP, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Heavy Angst With Eventual Happy Ending, Family Feels, Family Angst, Misunderstandings, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Family Fluff, Canon Divergence, Not Everyone Dies, by that I mean the bad guys will die, Hurt, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Suicidal Thoughts, Gore, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Breakdown, Night Terrors, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Worth Issues, Self-Destruction, Dubious Morality, (not WWX of course), Cannibalism, Reincarnation, PTSD, Internally Screaming LWJ, Demonic Possession, MXY Lives, Scum Villain References, WWX Has an Angry LWJ Kink)

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11. Hello ! I've been looking for a fic for a long time and I can't find it.

It's in the post-canon, wangxian are married and investigate a ghost woman who attacks white-dressed cultivators. In fact, this woman has feelings for Lan zhan and seeks to have him all for herself.

At one point, under a disguise she tries to trap them by wanting to make Wei Ying believe that Lan Zhan is cheating on him with her and Wei Ying pretends to be jealous and angry against Lan Zhan who immediately understands the plan.

In short, I really liked this fic because it really showed this precious trust between the two and I really want to read it again and this time save it in my bookmarks 🥺 @wesenyr

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12. Hi ! I am looking for a popular fic, where WWX participates at the Great British Baking Show (or something equivalent) and LWJ is a cameraman. NHS and LXC are the hosts and LQR is one of the judges.

Thank you ! @massivecollateralproblem

FOUND! on your marks, get set, bake! by BlackWiresOnHerHead (G, 41k, Modern, College/University, The Great British Bake Off AU, Humor, no GBBO knowledge required for entry)

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13. Hi, I’m trying to find two older fics, A) the first I remember it being on AO3, and I want to say it had more than one part to it. Basically when Wei Ying came back and then of course ended up in Gusu Lan, Lan Zhan had a son (not A-Yuan) but like another child that was his and Wei Yings, A-Yuan is also present though. He’s very much like how he is presented in the novel, but the child that was Lan Zhans and Wei Yings is more like Wei Ying. A bit of a trouble maker, kind of aggressive maybe. Energetic? Lan Zhan of course clocks that Wei Ying is Wei Ying, but they wait a while before actually telling the kid that this now seemingly random figure in his life is his father. And if I remember correctly the kid doesn’t take it well right away.

I also could be combining to fics in my memory, but I also want to say Lan Zhan may have had chronic pain, or he had been whipped while pregnant and he was just gonna roll with it until he collapsed early and they found out about the pregnancy.

B) The second definitely was on AO3 as well, with multiple parts. But I remember Lan Zhan definitely had chronic pain and weakness from being whipped. I specifically remember he has scars that snake down to his hand, and that arm/hand is visibly smaller or weaker looking compared to his other. At first he won’t eat or drink in front of Wei Ying because of it. His hand shakes I think. He also keeps his hair braided to the side so it doesn’t touch his scars, that way he doesn’t have to use his core as much to dampen the pain. He travels in the winter because the cold makes his pain worse. A-Yuan is also present in this fic. I think there’s a coming of age type ceremony at the end…. Although that could be a part of the first fic I’m looking for. @captainimpossiblyangrycolle-blog

13A)

FOUND? in a river you wade by bleuett (M, 20k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mpreg, Postpartum Depression, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Good Uncle LQR, Family Feels, Happy Ending, Kid Fic)

13B)

FOUND? 🔒 the map of days by everythingispoetry (M, 20k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Permanent Injury, Recovery, Disability, Parenthood, Character Study, Thirteen Years of WWX’s Death) the little details sound like "the map of days by everythingispoetry" i do not know for certain though

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14. Hey!! Thank you so much for all your hard work.

I read a fic ages ago, that the themes have really stuck with me, but for the life of me I cannot find!!

It was in the veins of heavy angst? hurt no comfort maybe? but i dont remember how it ended!

It was from (mostly?) wwx’s perspective, the plot was basically how broken & damaged wwx was as demonic cultivation/starvation were slowly killing him? None of his injures had ever healed since he lost his core (he had a broken back !?). A key point (I think) was that none of the people around him really realised how badly injured/how much pain he was in. They knew he wasn’t well but not that he was being pretty much held together by resentful energy. Even Wen Qing didn’t fully understand his condition I believe?

Maybe knowning he was dyinging wwx set out to destroy the st seal (or did???) as a final release??

I think it did kill him but I’m not quite sure, i think i remember Jyl & Lwj having a scene where they are mourning him together or commiserating over how ravaged wwx’s body is. I think they also realised wwx never intended to survive destroying the seal??

I’m desperate to read it again but for all my searching I cannot find it at all, hopefully someone knows it!

Have a great day! @3f2pmb

FOUND? 梅花开放 | the plum blossoms bloom by doubletan (E, 6k, WangXian, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Established Relationship, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Post-Canon, Anal Sex, Kissing, Crying, a lot of crying)

FOUND? The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

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15. Hi! This is for ficfinder. I dont remember much. The scene that i remember is someone send an assassin for baby jin ling but he survives because if wwx gift and the assassin is killed by ewx who visit him. Another scene is JGS wants to assault JYL but failed because if wwx gift too. And everyone found out about it and embrassed JGS. That all i can remember. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

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16. Hi I’m not sure if this is where I ask but I’m looking for a fic. The plot was that after wei Ying died Lan Zhan went to the burial mounds and found A Yuàn. For some reason this made Lan Zhan go into heat ( cause of grief or finding a malnourished child. idk ) and then he didn’t have a heat since. I think it then skipped to the future and Lan Zhan was like a ‘broken omega’ cause he didn’t get heats then I think wei Ying came back and things got fixed ?? Thx for any help u can give

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17. Hello, I am looking for a fic. It's set during a canonish era war and follows WWX. I think he's on his own leading troops and not with other main characters. After things are done the Madame Yu and JC are found to have committed war crimes. She is executed and JC is made to go help the people they harmed w/ his core sealed for a number of years. Any help is appreciated.

FOUND? 🔒 Crossing Paths by Ilona22 (M, 21k, wangxian, shapeshifter au, graphic depictions of violence, war between sects, war crimes, not JC friendly, happy ending)

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18. I need help finding a fic. I remember it was during CR era (I think) and LWJ gets cursed into having a lady part and the only way for him to return to his previous form is to orgasm. He doesnt know how to do that with female parts and WWX offers to help him with it. Starts off slow but they end up having sex multiple times over multiple nights. LWJ eventually gets close to an orgasm but stops WWX cause he thinks breaking the curse would mean he and WWX have to stop having sex. @727432rehhjkdjhe

FOUND? Coming Back to Yourself by acernor (E, 21k, wangxian, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Pining, Gender or Sex Swap, Vaginal Sex)

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19. looking for a fic in which wwx and jc are at a cultivation conference and lwj is terrifying actually. kinda yunmeng bros reconciliation but idk??? @skyerie

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20. Hi!! I'm trying to find a fic I'veread a while ago, but I can't find it anywhere. Wy, once reborn, didn't see Lz's scars while Lz was bathing in the cold springs and he tried to steal the jade pass. Once they get together is where the plot kinda flees from my mind. I don't remember if Lz only ever had sex with Wy if he (Lz) was almost fully clothed or if he just straight up refused to be intimate. I guess Wy fearing that Lz didn't find his new body attractive and voicing that fear to Lz is what makes Lz tell him the truth??? I'm not sure tho. Anyways, in the end, Lz reveals the scars that the discipline whip left on him, and tells Wy that he's never been ashamed of his scars, but that once Wy came back and they got together, he became terrified that Wy would find repulsive how deformed the scars made his back look.

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21. hello! do you know of the dad!lwj fic where wwx falls in love with a-yuan and lwj via video calls

FOUND?🔒Wishing on Runway Lights by inflight_gremlin (E, 45k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & OYZZ, Modern, Pilot LWJ, Flight Attendant WWX, Single Parent LWJ, Meet-Cute, Relationship Speed-Run, Matchmaker LSZ, Adopted LSZ, Domestic Fluff, Brief Mention of Child Neglect (not from wangxian), Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, POV Alternating, LSZ Knows What He Wants, Slight Misunderstanding, Sexual Tension, no one is skipping meals, romcom vibes, Attempt at hallmark movie feels, Temporary Accidental Child Aquisition)

~*~

[nevesmose]

Separation 11347

This was, by Trazyn's infallible reckoning, his eleven thousand three hundred and forty-seventh divorce from Orikan. The Diviner, on the other hand, was adamant that it was in fact only their eleven thousand three hundred and forty-sixth. This dispute was what had caused the current divorce.

At first he had settled contentedly into his usual divorce routine, entering his meticulously-preserved time loop of a "Happy Divorce" party plucked from the Terran city-state of Nova Yoruk in early M3 as the Imperium kept its years.

As had been the case so many times before, the Lord of Solemnace basked over and over again in the reassurance of the assembled middle-aged humans that he was indeed so much better off without that asshole in his life, rounding off the festivities with a cake depicting a miniature confectionery figurine of Trazyn using a guillotine on a similarly-constructed sugar-based effigy of Orikan.

It was all very gratifying, and he was certain that when the amusement faded he would return to find Orikan waiting for him apologetically, his eminently bullyable faceplate resembling a weeping juvenile felid.

It was, however, not to be. He returned to the Galleries to find no trace whatsoever of Orikan. He was so disconcerted that he even briefly considered retrieving his much-prized clone of the primarch Fulgrim from stasis, but decided against it. It had, after all, only been a few subjective decades since he had placed the clone into a detailed diorama of the genuine being's final battle with his erstwhile companion Ferrus Manus for enrichment purposes. He had been thoroughly pleased with himself for coming up with entertainment of such realism and, judging by his mute tears of joy, so too was the clone.

What a wonderful caregiver I am, he had thought, jauntily walking away. Perhaps he and Orikan should adopt, which when used by Trazyn the Infinite is a word which means kidnap, an Astartes or Aeldari together.

Time passed and with no sign of Orikan's return, Trazyn felt it justifiable to seek other outlets for his multifarious urges. After exhausting every category on Cronhub and getting banned from Nemesorindr, he arose to find that the necrodermis of his lower limbs had spontaneously reformed itself into the shape of a baggy, ill-maintained example of the Terran garment known as sweatpants.

This could not stand. He resolved that he would start A Project, an undertaking of such majesty and glory that no one, least of all that cycloptic fool Orikan, could deny him the attention he deserved.

After brief forays into stop-motion animation and painting miniature Space Marines (accomplished by shrinking normal Astartes through arcane technosorcery and ignoring the resulting high-pitched noises as he applied pigment of a much too viscous consistency to their battleplate) his thoughts returned once more to his display of the battle between the primarchs on Isstvan V.

Theirs was a tragic tale of heartfelt companionship severed by corruption and betrayal. He himself had mentally projected several hundred phaeronfics about them to the great repository of the Necron race whose name, although untranslatable into any other language, was best rendered as The Sarcophagus-Belonging-To-Us-Alone, and some of them had even received multiple scarabs of approval from the discerning audience entrapped there forever.

Surely, he reasoned with the confidence of a being who had long since activated the developer console of his necrodermis body and manually increased its confidence, intelligence and charisma variables to 100, this meant that no one other than he could restore their friendship.

And so, in single-minded pursuit of compassion and friendliness, the Archaeovist and his forces wrought a swathe of destruction across the galaxy.

A foray into the Eye of Terror itself resulted in the capture of Fulgrim through the use of a vast two-pronged stick to pin the writhing daemon prince to the ground where he had been basking one day, while the sacrifice of his entire collection of ancient Terran doujinshis to the haemonculi of Commorragh itself had given him forbidden knowledge sufficient to wrest back the very soul of Ferrus Manus himself and place it into a suitably prepared necron host body via the biomorphic resonance of the necrodermis which had coated his hands in life.

Finally, the moment of glory came. The daemon Fulgrim and the metallically resurrected Ferrus Manus were placed into the same containment chamber and -

It was not at all what Trazyn had hoped. After a monumental bout of hand-to-hand combat lasting for hour upon hour, the two primarchs had settled into an uneasy stalemate, in the sense that Fulgrim was currently coiled around a light fixture on the ceiling and Ferrus had run out of objects to throw at him.

"You're even uglier now than you were when you had flesh," Fulgrim hissed venomously.

"And you were more of a snake then than you are now," Ferrus shot back, the frozen inexpressiveness of his necrodermis faceplate matching the famously stone-faced countenance he had displayed in life.

Fortunately Trazyn, who never made a mistake of any kind whatsoever, had prepared for such an eventuality. A concealed slot opened in the ceiling of the containment chamber, dislodging Fulgrim from his perch, and through the opening there descended a vast garment of woven silver-metallic fabric, emblazoned with inscrutable Necron symbols and sized in such a way as to accomodate the bodies of both primarchs.

"This is your get along shirt," Trazyn said, his voice amplified throughout the containment chamber. "You will wear it."

[tojisun]

dbf!simon x fem reader; dbf!simon x ofc

!! suggestive - minors dni; simon's a dick; is it cheating if you two are on-and-off

: draft :'D - i didnt want to post it as part of the dbf!simon series because it felt too juvenile and not in-line with the series (as i tend to avoid writing simon's pov to further shroud doubt to how he feels for the reader) but i miss writing so i tweaked this a bit

it is laughable, really, how you never seemed to have good people in your corner. how, at every turn, you keep getting betrayed. left broken and weeping, your heart full of festering wounds.

simon's guilty of it, of course.

he is no saint. he knows the shit he does hurts you but he has always known the bed he's made in hell and was more than ready to lay in it. to submerge himself in the fire because there is just something so addicting in the way he seeks for you, all mangled soul and yearning—ugly in the way he bears the burden of his affections to you—only to be accepted with nothing but a wet sniffle and a, "you hurt me." and simon hears it for what it is—his absolvement.

in return, simon whispers his apologies, all half-meant because he can't change. not when he loves the way you love him.

but this.

oh but this is just too cruel, it makes him twitch with a crude sense of delight.

"she doesn't deserve you," she mumbles, eyes glassy with tears. she introduced herself, said her name's kara. said she's your friend.

("see?" he would tell you much later, his palms warm as they clung to your waist. "she didn't mean a thing to me, baby."

"o-okay," you would reply, choking on your tears. "m'sorry for doubtin'."

simon would bite a grin and pepper kisses all over the column of your neck and up to the cut of your jaw, feather-light as they danced just past your lips.

"s'okay," he would whisper. "i knew you didn't mean to."

you would bury your face on the juncture of his neck with a wet sniffle, and simon would suppress a tremble because this.

this was exactly how he likes you.)

"oh yeah?" simon asks, snorting to himself. "and what? you reckon you're a better option?"

she flushes, cheeks filling with heat and eyes darkening as she frowns. simon expected her to storm off, taking his dismissal for what it is and running away to pretend to be your comfort place again.

instead, she seems to make herself more resolute, fists tightening on her skirt before meeting his eyes head-on.

"yes," kara says, all faux confidence. "i am."

simon hums, swirling his glass of gin as he looks away. "why's that?"

"because i know how to love you."

simon pauses, eyes shifting back to her.

kara says love in a way he knows isn't all that softness you have always associated with it—ghosting kisses and whispered confessions—or similar to the weight erin has always cloaked the word in—something that was beyond dinner parties and bike rides. kara says love and simon sees what she wants.

she wants the passion. the danger. she wants to submerge herself in the taboo love that she must have heard from you—the rough sex, the fast burn, the way he engulfs you whole until you are left twitching on the bed, gaze faraway and oversensitive as you come down from your high, before dealing with a heartache as he leaves.

it was a dance with you. it was something he tried to curb with erin only to realize, half-way, he wanted the thrill that you gave him.

with kara, simon knows it's all a front.

he flits his eyes down at her, licking the back of his teeth as he takes her in because kara is beautiful, alright. not really his type but he sees the appeal.

(she isn't anything like you and, somehow, that makes it easier for simon to indulge.)

he takes her to a hotel. he fucks her against the wall on the entryway of the room, and leaves after he came across her back.

simon fishes for his phone and rings you.

"si?" your voice is a sleepy croak on the other side. it makes his heart clench with desire.

"i wanna see you, sweetheart."

a static. sheets rustling. then, "okay." a yawn. "i can't wait."

what a sweet thing you are. this is why he can't really give you up.

[sleepdepravity]

oh dear.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Tattoo

Written for @jilymicrofics using August prompt no. 26

James and Lily react very differently to teenage Harry's new body art!

890 words, rated T (though I'm being very cautious there, it's probably really Gen)

Read below, or on AO3

“Harry James Potter!” Lily Potter stopped dead in the doorway to her seventeen year old son’s bedroom. “What the hell is that?”

Harry scrabbled into the t-shirt he’d just snagged from his wardrobe and spun around to face his mother. “What is what?” he asked, brows pinched in a convincing imitation of confusion.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Harry!” Lily replied sharply. “I know what I saw.”

Quick as a flash, Harry shifted gears. “Then why are you asking?”

Lily’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t cut the attitude, we’re going to have a serious problem here.”

“Actually, the problem is that you didn’t knock before barging into my room,” Harry shrugged. “Perhaps we ought to discuss your lack of respect for my privacy?”

“That is NOT the point, Harry!” Lily struggled to keep her temper under control. “We need to talk about this.” 

“No, we don’t,” Harry told her, flatly. “I’m of age now. It’s none of your business.”

“I think you’ll find it’s very much my business while you live under my roof!”

“Really? What happened to ‘my body, my rules’?” countered Harry.

“Harry, that is enough!” she snapped back.

Unsurprisingly, the rising volume of their discussion drew James from his study. “What’s going on?” he enquired. 

“Your son,” she told him, “has got himself a tattoo!”

James’s eyes widened. “Have you really? What did you get? Where is it?” 

“James!” Lily admonished him, though she was silently cursing herself for not anticipating his response.

James’s hazel eyes radiated innocence. “What? I’m only showing a fatherly interest!” He almost managed not to smile as gestured towards Harry. “Well, come on then - show me!”

With a sly grin at his mother, Harry slipped the t-shirt off again and turned around, displaying an intricate line drawing of a dragon that twisted down his left shoulder blade. “It’s a Hungarian Horntail.”

“Oh Harry,” she sighed. “What on earth possessed you?”

Harry looked a bit sheepish. “Erm… Ginny said she thought it would look good.”

“Ginny said…” Lily paused as she tried to wrap her head around this new bombshell. “Harry, you went and got a tattoo because a girl told you to? Of all the idiotic, irresponsible…. James, help me out here!”

“I’m hardly in any position to criticise, am I?” laughed James, lifting his shirt to flash the tattoo that sprawled across his ribs - a bouquet of lilies entwined around their wedding date, just above Harry’s name and his date of birth.

“That’s different!” spluttered Lily. “That means something. You didn’t get it on a whim because a girl said so!”

“No,” he conceded. “But I got the first one on a whim because me and my mates got pissed one night and thought it would be a laugh, which is arguably worse.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, ever eager for stories of his father’s juvenile misbehaviour. “Really? You never told me that.”

“Yeah. The one on my arm,” James explained, referring to the words Mischief Managed that wrapped around his bicep, bordered by a trail of paw and hoof prints. “I was the same age as you are now. Me, Sirius, Remus and Peter all got the same one. Your Nanna hit the roof when she saw it.”

“I can understand why,” muttered Lily.

“I seem to remember you telling me it was sexy the first time you saw it.” James’s lips twitched with amusement and Lily felt her cheeks colour at the memory of exactly what had happened immediately after her then-boyfriend had showed her his new tattoo.

Harry, as sharp as ever, did not miss the double standard. “So you like Dad’s tattoos, but there’s something wrong with mine? You know how ridiculous that is, right?”

Lily was forced to concede that he had a point. “I’m sorry, darling,” she sighed. “It’s just that you’ll always be my baby boy, and I want to protect you. I hate to think of you doing something you’ll regret.”

“But I don’t regret it!” Harry replied, hotly. “How do you know that I ever will?”

Lily held up her hands, placating him. “I don’t. And I don’t think your father has ever regretted any of his.“ 

“Nope,” James confirmed. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Harry hauled his t-shirt back on, clearly frustrated. “I really love it, you know. The dragon was Ginny’s idea, but I’ve wanted a tattoo for ages. I didn’t get it on a whim.”

“Harry, I think you’re perfect just as you are,” she explained, “and the idea of you changing anything about yourself feels uncomfortable to me. But I know that you’re old enough to make your own choices, and despite the impression I just gave you, I do respect that.”

Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Thanks, Mum.”

“For what it’s worth, I do think that it’s a beautiful drawing.” In lieu of an olive branch, Lily held out her arms, and her son obliged her with a hug. “So. What did Ginny think?”

Pink spots formed on Harry’s cheeks. He shoved his hand through his hair, and the familiarity of the gesture, so very like his father, made Lily’s heart swell. “She… um… she liked it.” 

James wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at his son. “Oh, I bet she did.”

Harry flushed an even deeper shade of pink. “Dad!”

Lily laughed. “I like that girl. She has good taste.”

[lemmetreatya]

Miss ma'am, Miss ma'am, I am back with another thought like it could be a lil blurd or whatever, but do you think Onyankopon got any fetish or kinks? I kinda believe he got a feet kink like the nigga loves LOVES a woman with nice ass feet and it don't matter if the feet are a size 4 or a size 13 - HE LOVES FEET! Like I can just image he's hitting it missionary style and he done hooked your legs over his muscular, chocolate shoulders and he catches sight of the gold and silver ankle bracelet he gifted you with his name on it (just cause he's cute like tht) and then his eyes are traveling to your feet and you feel him gets bigger inside of you and suddenly he's pounding you stupid cause you're just squeezing him but really it's cause he's making out with your toes, bitting the pinky toe and everything and it's so nasty and sensual that you squirt bout 3 times in a row but he's not complaining cause all that means is tht he gets to clean you up... sorry for the rant but what are your thoughts?

GIIRRRLLLLLL!!!! ykw?! it’s actually crazy because literally yesterday i was thinking that this man has a foot kink. and i never thought or looked towards a foot kink in my liiiffeee but i just know this man has it on LAWK!!

word count: 1.5k

content: afab!reader, smut, foot kink, missionary, biting, squirting, overstimulation, petnames

onyankopon loves giving you princess treatment.

we not just talking splashing big bucks on foot pedicures and spas but he just allllllways has an inclination to look after you. whether that be massaging your feet whilst you’re both laid up on the couch, his hand always finding your inner thighs during outings — heck he even be buying you those anklets and toe rings that rocky be getting for rihanna.

naturally, youd think that this was just onyankopon’s way of showing affection. but its when that man was laid up on you just underneath the covers that you realise that this was probably a bit more than just princess treatment.

“c’mere” hed mumble just above you as his arms hook underneath your thighs.

you already looked at onyankopon like he had galaxies in his eyes but its the way he always knew how to deal with you accordingly that made you weak.

“you always look so pretty like this baby, you know that?”

onyankopon continues to fuck into you at a moderate pace but now he has your knees by your ears as he uses most of his body weight to keep you folded. he bends down to give you a small peck on your lips but then takes one of your feet in hand to kiss just at the sole of your foot.

you wiggle your toes at him in small jest, a juvenile joke of some sort, but it only causes onyankopon to kiss at your feet more.

“that tickles…”

you breathe out, eyes intricately attracted to the way his lips lift off your toes as he gives it several kisses.

“mmmm.” the reply he gives is lazy, half potted, hummed. but there’s more than just galaxies behind his eyes now, there’s sensuality involved, there’s cosmoses forming.

the subtle change in onyankopon’s strokes are different. hes no longer slanging in and out of you for the pedantry of sex. there’s a switch; where suddenly he’s aiming for something thats dressed a lot like pleasure but is painted with a different face. onyankopon bends one of his knees besides you, giving himself some leverage, but now hes so intentional with how his lips praise your feet but his eyes dance over your face.

“you real pretty like this, princess.” he says again, but this time you have different answers.

“you talkin’ to me or my feet?”

you joke, your breathing not even in a good enough condition to laugh but the airy muse comes out anyways.

however, the phrase doesn’t land well with onyankopon. you can tell with how his eyes darken, with how the cosmos turn sinister and the galaxies erupt, that you were in nothing but trouble.

“watch your mouth.” is the growl that leaves his throat and that’s when everything turns inside out.

suddenly, onyankopon is speeding up his pistoning, cock growing heavier by the second as he latches your big toe inside of his mouth. its wet and its warm. not something you’d usual be akin to but its sensual enough that your moans come out pornographic.

“f-fuck…” you cry out — the change was unexpected!

onyankopon makes good effort to use your ankles as stirring posts for himself as he makes himself at home within your dewy cunt. you can tell he plans to unleash something hes never done before. his eyes told you. the way they were vividly burning with years worth of repressed expression and intent was everything you needed to know.

onyankopon unlatches his mouth from your foot.

“gonna leave you feeling…hoping you never said shit to me.” he half spits. not it malice though. no, onyankopon never spoke to you with any ill intent, but his words were venomously laced.

“o-o-ony, i..im sor’wy.”

you near cry because you’ve never felt this opened up into before, but onyankopon only leaves a bite with your toe before focusing his attention on your other foot, his lips now pressing against that one, as a reply.

but with onyankopon jackhammering into you and your lack of control in being able to squeeze your feet, everything felt so lose and so open and —

before you’re able to give a warning your squirting over onyankopon’s cock, slightly colder liquid spilling out of you every time onyankopon pulled backwards.

the man only curses slightly at your surprise, your feet planted against his cheek as he checks out your mess but it doesn’t stop him! if anything, he begins to thrust with more passion

“fuuuck, im gonna—shit!— now, im really gonna… give you sumn… to be sorry bout!”

now you can only but squeal in overstimulation, the man’s shit eating grin wide as he hyperfocuses on drilling your cunt with his cock. all you can do is whine into your arm as you let your head fall to the side.

it felt uncomfortable but in a good way because you know you had more in you and so did onyankopon.

“come on baby. need you to squirt on my dick again. gotta have you make a bigger mess, huh?”

“o-oa-o-on..nyyyy!”

words can barely leave your mouth at this point. you cant even twinkle your toes as a stim because onyankopon’s either got his mouth or hand on them. your pinkies shiny with spit, legs sticky with your cum, and now your cheeks prickling with tears of peak overstimulation via a second orgasm.

onyankopon pulls out now that you’re squirting again so that he can wash his dick with your cum. he suckles on your toes as he lays his dick against the fat of your pussy lips, your cries like music to his ears.

“eurrrgh. fuck you’re something else.” he moans over your toes but you’re too blazed out to even reply.

heart jerking whimpers leave your throat as you lay completely fucked out beneath onyankopon. the man can only look over you with a dreamy grin, the galaxies in his eyes having calmed down but now birthed with new stars and systems.

“still with me, bubba?” onyankopon lays a kiss to the sole of one of your feet before leaving his face plant against it.

you whine as an initial reply, your head reeling straight to look at him but you then realise you cant lift your head much more and so let it fall back down against the pillow.

“baby, i cant…do no more.”

as understanding as ever, onyankopon nods before leaning forwards to plant a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

“that’s okay. leave the rest to me.” which was ironic of him to say, concerning you’d done nothing but be a pillow princess the whole time.

when onyankopon slides back into your fermenting cunt, it’s an easy fit — like wearing a well melded leather glove — but you’re so sensitive that the sensation is overloading your senses.

“onyyyy”

is what you whine out. its not for him to stop but you definitely know your limits close.

“i know, i know.”

onyankopon himself seems to be closing in too because his groans are so evident now, gruff and present as he jiffers into your ear.

“gon’ sleep good tonight, mamas. gon put you right to bed.”

now hes talking like how he usually does, concerned for your wellbeing, making sure you’re being treated right. but you notice how even though his face was buried by your neck, his hand made effort to stretch out along your leg and to your foot.

you think hes gonna lift up to suck at them again but he doesn’t. instead, he just aimlessly plays with the individual toes.

as soon as he does that, his breath starts to fasten and his hips becoming more bucky in movement. onyankopon kisses at your jawline with small peppery pecks but you can tell hes nearing his limit. you help stimulate him by using your other feet to feel at his back. nothing too much concerning he was still pressing into you with a majority of his presence but you just rub at his back with the sole and heel of your foot.

“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

onyankopon’s thrusts become bunny like — rutty, half executed and clearly a sign of an impending orgasm.

your hand comes up to then pet at the back of his neck as you sultry moan into his ear.

“fuck, yes daddy. yeah fuck me just like that.” which seems to be enough to send him over the edge.

onyankopon calls out your name like his life depends on it before he’s pulling out — almost too late — and spurting his load onto the creases of your stomach. the man lets out a low moan as he jerks himself off on top of you, milking everything he’d experience to the last drop.

both your breathings are laboured, time and energy clearly well spent. but as onyankopon comes down from his high, you can only kitten stroke the back of his head.

“you needa start fucking me like that more often, shit…”

onyankopon but airily laughs as he looks up at you with a grin. the galaxies in his eyes are brighter than ever.

“don’t worry, i will be.” he chides, his smile wide.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

Hm, I see you like yuri and aporia quite a bit.. :3 how do you think they'd react to each other? (It can be in your au too if you want :33)

The boy has eyes like a greedy dragon and a smile like a maddened cannibal as he examines Aporia's claws with delighted fascination. "So this is what it looks like to become one." The smile grows wider, hungrier. "We really are the same."

"I fail to see the similarity." Aporia huffs, recoiling his hand. The child simply snickers in reply, disappearing into the tangled curtain of wires and cables plugged into his back and arm ports. He reemerges a moment later on the other side, having to crane his neck to meet Aporia's gaze, even with the great and powerful Embodiment of Despair sitting ever so gingerly on the ground.

"Then maybe you should look harder, Aporia. We may as well be twins!" says the boy, leaning against Aporia's knee and giving him a fiendish little grin. "Metaphorically speaking, of course. We've both been parts of a whole, haven't we? Well, I suppose I still am, unfortunately I'm still trying to collect all of my pieces, but you… you did it. You reunited as one and unlocked your true power. I have to admire the efficiency! You make it look so easy." His smile twitches, sliding into a grimace as he glances at the cables and cords around them. "I would admire the rejection of humanity too, if you weren't so dedicated to being a machine." A disgusted sniff. "Why on earth would you want to become some cold metal Thing when you could just embrace your divine flesh and become a creature of true organic destruction instead?"

Aporia narrows his eyes. "You cannot fathom the divine touch that's had its hand in making me," he rumbles, a warning tone. "A holy machine is an existence beyond your very comprehension, little one. I exist unbound by useless, distracting emotions; I have no need to be a slave to things like your juvenile yearning for chaos and destruction!"

That earns him a nasty little glare. "Come now. My name is Yuri."

Something flickers in the corner of Aporia's mind. He pushes it back, hastily. Leans down as much as he can to bare his ever-sharp fangs at the boy. "Hmph. Another thing then, Yuri--you and I are nothing alike. Our goals and situations are night and day." He speaks slowly, syllables taking a particularly prickly edge. "The Three Emperors of Iliaster were made to become me. They're androids. They were built from my despair, built with reunification intended… and I stand as the sum of their parts. They merged into one by their own accord, for the good of completing the Circuit and saving the future. It was their decision. They wanted it."

Yuri matches his bared teeth with the lazy glint of his own devilish fangs. "And you think we don't?" he purrs. "Please. I know how badly the others are yearning to be one. They're desperate for it! I'm just the only piece ambitious enough to make it happen."

"Ambitious." Aporia snorts. Ambitious the way a vampire sinks its teeth into your neck, sure. "Perhaps that's the crux of how we differ, Yuri. My pieces weren't hunting each other."

"My, my. That's an awfully accusatory tone you're taking."

Aporia has had enough feelings for ten lifetimes. A hundred, even. His Z-one crafted mechanical makeup dutifully seals every distracting, useless emotion away, at his own insistence. And yet he's all too aware of something very close to frustration digging its barbs into his brain. Dancing around with that flickering something that's refusing to stay out of sight out of mind. "The Emperors are… were… a unit. A shared existence. Allow me to point out that you and all of your pieces have your own separate lives. Had, I should say. And it seems you won't rest until you've ensured the complete and utter ego death of every last one of them." He sits back, letting cables slacken. Hums. "My pieces weren't so eager to annihilate one another."

"Oh? Then why don't they come out to play?" Yuri quirks the second most ridiculous eyebrow in the room. "Ah, that's right, they can't! They don't exist anymore! Not in a way that matters, anyway. It's just you now, isn't it?" He purses his lips, smirks. "So presumptuous of you, old man. Acting like I'm the only one here annihilating people. Though I suppose "people" is hardly an applicable term, in your case."

Aporia clenches his jaw. "That's completely different."

"So you agree then? That your little--what did you call them? Emperors? How adorable--you agree that they aren't people." That increasingly irritating smile splits into a vividly vicious grin. "Just spare parts necessary to becoming whole. They may as well be gears and screws." A giggle, starting small then blooming into a full blown cackle. "Though I guess they already are!"

"Enough!" Aporia bellows, snaps forward to swat Yuri away like a meddlesome housefly. He ducks out of reach, though, nimbly grabbing hold of a particularly thick braid of wires and shimmying up it like a climbing rope. With a pounce he lands on one of Aporia's pauldrons, still laughing as he settles into a precarious crouch.

"Awfully cranky for a so-called emotionless machine, aren't you?" Yuri snickers. "Admit it, we're far more alike than different! All I've done is just accelerate the same process you went through. You wiped your Emperors from existence to become yourself again, and when I absorb my last two stray fragments, well, then it will be my turn." His turn to hum now, as he admires his nails with a thoughtful frown. "Honestly, why bother dying on such a morally righteous hill over something that's such a simple matter, anyway? It's just mutual exclusivity! Our pieces weren't born--ahah, created, to be separate forever, don't kid yourself. We've always been the ultimate end goal."

His gaze snaps up, meets Aporia's scowl with snake-split pupils. "And the only way our lives get to truly flourish is if theirs reach an end." Something wicked sparks in those violet, inhuman eyes. "But I think you know that. Don't you, Aporia?"

What a truly… aggravating little insect. So adamant, so filled to the brim with blistering venom and malicious glee. Clinging to arrogance a little too tight, like a shaky hand grips a rapier. This boy with a truly nasty smile and an even nastier laugh.

It would be clawing its way through Aporia's emotionless walls, lighting a flame of exasperated fury inside him right now, if it wasn't so familiar.

Isn't this precisely what you would do, if you were that age again? Postured, plotted, picked at sore spots, just to see a reaction? Fought feverishly with any adult who'd dare try to argue with you? Defended your choices, one of the few things left still well and truly your own?

For a moment as Aporia stares Yuri down he can almost see a flicker of long red hair, a wild, gleaming green eye. It's all certainly what Lucciano would do, isn't it? Right down to the hysterical madman cackle. If he focuses, Aporia can access every inch of his components' memories within his circuits and systems, see all of the child Emperor's schemes and outbursts and chaotic leanings. And while Lucciano was a despair-driven, exaggerated facsimile of his childhood, Aporia needs only glance at those memories for mere seconds to see the true shades of himself within them, the lonely child from a future he now hopes will never come to pass. The lonely child who screamed and sobbed and lost the ones who loved him most. The lonely child who never truly stopped being afraid.

It's like gazing at a painting and all at once understanding it, suddenly seeing the 'how' and 'why' in every brushstroke. The despair of losing those who love you… maybe Yuri was spared such grief. Maybe he wasn't. Either way, Aporia can't fight the pang of sympathy that awakens and pushes through the cracks in his "emotionless" walls.

He's just a kid.

With a sigh, Aporia shifts, an uneven motion that almost-but-not-quite shakes Yuri off his shoulder. "I do admit," he says finally, slowly, "If I was the more foolish sort, I would almost believe your vicious resolve about all of this was quite the display of compensation."

That rattles Yuri out of his self-satisfied staredown. "What--!" he spits, bristling like a particularly ornery purple cat. "What are you getting at? I'm not compensating for anything, you miserable bag of bolts!"

Aporia doesn't flinch. Just sits, watches him.

An uncharacteristic redness creeps onto Yuri's face. He crinkles his nose, bares his teeth, before the thickening silence can grow too great. "Answer me!"

"Mm. It's nothing important. You simply remind me of someone." Aporia looks away, diverts his attention to the thick braids of wires plugged into his arm. Runs the back of his claws along their dull sheen. "He spent a very long time being scared and alone, too."

"Hah!" The laugh is high and loud and knifepoint dangerous. "And just what is that supposed to mean? Do you think I'm some sniveling little scared-of-the-dark toddler? Shaking in my boots, trying to hide behind my other pieces, so the big bad monsters don't get me? Please! I am the monster, Aporia. And I am not scared."

Aporia slowly turns his head to look back at Yuri. He can almost feel a pitiful smile playing at his lips. "You admit to the loneliness, then."

The glower he receives in response could burn a wheat field to cinders, but Aporia's mechanical senses are too fine-tuned to miss what comes before: a single split second of eyes going wide, mouth twitching into a mortified wince. A child caught with a thieving hand deep in the cookie jar. Aporia's turn to prod at a nerve, it seems.

It still comes so naturally to him after all.

"Hmph. Perhaps placing my admiration in you was a very stupid mistake." Yuri hisses finally. He tears his sour gaze away and, quick as a viper's strike, leaps from Aporia's shoulder back to the ground, cape fluttering behind him. "Fine! Stay on your high horse. I don't care." He turns, flashes a mean, toothy smile. "Just remember which of us obliterated more souls to be here." The smile quivers, coils once more into a grin just short of diabolical. "If we want to count machines as having souls, anyway. But, ah! That's a moral quandary for another time. Either way, hopefully I'll be matching your record soon!"

Yuri crows and cackles like it's the funniest joke in the world, and the wires and hardware that were once Lucciano thrum with a wave of kinship so strong it nearly re-acquaints Aporia with nausea.

"Ahh, well, anyway. This has been oh so… fun," Yuri's lip curls with disdain. "But I really must be going. I am terribly busy, after all. Do think of me when the world's in ruins soon, won't you?" His eyes cut one last noxious pink inspection over Aporia's hulking form, and he smiles almost sweetly. "Enjoy your rust. Ta ta!"

Then, with a flick of his wrist and a flourish of his cape, the boy is gone, turning on his heel and marching off to God-knows-where to do God-knows-what. Aporia sits in the silence of his cord and cable jungle for a moment, letting their charge course through his inner mechanisms, his beautiful heaven-touched form. He sighs again. Of course it's a fool's errand to get Yuri to see their differences, to understand the merits of shedding the human for the powerful and perfect machine. He knows the adamancy in one's opinion only a child can hold with such vicious gusto. Sometimes it's truly the only thing you have, at that age.

Somewhere inside him a child who will never exist again yearns for a friendship that will never be, and Aporia can't help but wish Yuri a safer, better future than he himself will ever know.

((WOW I AM SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK LITERALLY LIKE 3 MONTHS TO GET TO, ANON i got so inspired by this i ran off into the woods and had to write a fic about it. :,)

I loooved loved loved thinking about the way these two Certified Danaguys would react to each other... the fact that theyre honestly kind of similar is making me a little sick in the head i must say. something something reuniting into one, embracing a divine individual identity (in organic and mechanical flavors,) plant vines vs power cables... never mind the fact lesterlucciano and yuri are definitely the same breed of sadistic cackling 12-14 year old little fucker and would probably get along like a house on fire.

there's a bit in tag force 6 on Aporia's route, where he comments on how he never got to have a normal childhood/play with other kids growing up, and how lucciano has that same desperate aching for connection with other people. i just definitely think he'd be able to see a similar loneliness in Yuri too, past the nasty venom. traumatized child recognizing traumatized child Big and a Lot. wahhh

tysm for this ask! got me writing again which is a big deal for me :3

(meanwhile in kansas au i think they would lock eyes at the beauty supply store when yuri is shoplifting mascara. aporia wont snitch tho <3)))

[weemssapphic]

hiii, I hope you are having a great day!

I was wondering... i know it was hard to write lipstick stain buuut would you consider doing a part 2?

hello, i hope you're having a lovely day as well! a couple people asked if i would write a second part so... here it is! ao3 link is in the title <3

for those who haven't read part one: here's a link (it's also in my masterlist)

content/warnings: Larissa takes reader out on a date - nsfw (dom!larissa), age gap (reader is 21+), sexual shapeshifting, praise kink, alcohol consumption, cunnilingus (reader receiving), corruption kink if you squint?

words: ~4.5k

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 2

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

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Moonlight filtered into the living room of the apartment you shared with your friends, the soft glow a stark contrast to the harsh light coming from the home screen of Netflix that illuminated the television.

You’d somehow managed to field most of your roommate’s questions about your afternoon, wanting to keep the “juicy details”, as Christin put it, to yourself, and soon the topic had moved on to Cassandra’s failing love life, your upcoming midterm exams, and where you would all go for your spring break trip.

Pizza boxes and empty beer bottles were strewn across the coffee table. Christin was nestled in Robin’s arms on the larger of the two couches, Cassandra curled up on the smaller couch, leaving you on a pile of fuzzy blankets on the floor. You didn’t mind - you were wide awake anyway, mind going a mile a minute.

You grabbed your phone from where it layed next to you, beginning to flick through each of your social media apps, hoping for a brief reprieve from the woman that plagued your every thought, from the growing ache between your thighs. The reprieve did not come. Instead, you found your thumb hovering over your contacts app. A quick glance at your roommates told you they were out cold. You scrolled down to the ‘L’s, finding Larissa’s name and opening a new message. 

A glance at the time told you it was 1:34 am. There was no way in hell she’d be up. Even if she were… she’d have something better to do, you were sure of it. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, staring at your phone, thumbs hovering over the screen as you debated whether or not to text her. 

A snore to your right brought you out of your daze. You locked your phone, groaning and dropping your head to the floor. What had this woman done to you, in such a short amount of time?

You picked yourself up off the floor, switching off the television and heading out of the living room in the hopes that a cold shower and a decent night's sleep would get your mind off the older woman.

Of course, you were sorely mistaken. You couldn’t get your mind off her, no matter how hard you tried, and by the middle of the week, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You found yourself pacing your room on a Wednesday afternoon, finger hovering once again over Larissa’s contact, typing out and deleting a message over and over again. Everything you came up with sounded so stupid - so juvenile. Perhaps she’d appreciate a phone call instead?

Fuck it. You pressed the ‘call’ button and lifted your phone to your ear, heart beating faster with each passing ring, until it pounded against your ribcage, struggling to break free.

“Larissa Weems?” Her tone was cool, professional, put together - while you felt like you were coming apart at the seams.

“Hi,” you breathed out. “It’s Y/N. You know, from the-”

“I know who you are.” You could practically hear the woman smirk at the other end of the line. “I was wondering when you would call.” 

At least she remembers your name? That has to count for something?

“Uh, right. Yeah. I was just wondering how you were doing? And, maybe, if you were free sometime?” You stopped your pacing to shuffle from foot to foot, glancing out the window to watch the cars pass by on the street below.

Larissa’s melodic laugh reached your ear and your stomach flipped pleasantly. “I’m doing well, thank you.”

There was a brief pause in which time seemed to stand still as you wondered what she was thinking, whether she was going to try to let you down gently. And then - “What do you say I take you out to dinner on Friday?” 

Dinner? Somehow you’d just been expecting a hook-up, you hadn’t dared hope the woman would show any interest in you beyond relieving some sexual frustration.

“Darling?” You realized with a jolt that Larissa was waiting for a reply.

“Y-yes, of course, I’d love to go out to dinner with you.”

“Wonderful. The earliest I can make is 7, I hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You couldn’t help the victorious grin that was spreading across your face, the butterflies that were erupting in your stomach.

“Where can I pick you up?”

You recited your address and said goodbye to Larissa, barely having hung up the phone before falling back onto your bed and squealing in delight. The panic would set in soon enough when you realized you had no idea where you were going or what you should be wearing.

~~~

Friday came both far too quickly and far too slowly for your liking. Your roommates teased you relentlessly, though they thankfully had the mercy to make themselves scarce when the afternoon of your date with Larissa came upon you.

Robin and Christin excused themselves early to go on a date of their own while Cassandra helped you with your makeup, distracting you with some horror stories of hook-ups with frat boys from her freshman year. 

When it was time for you to get dressed, she gave you a quick hug and shut herself in her room, turning Spotify all the way up to give you your space.

6:57 pm. You gave yourself a once-over in the mirror. You’d opted for a long black skirt and a baby blue silk blouse with just the top button undone. Cassandra had done a great job with your makeup - you didn’t usually wear eyeliner, but you had to admit it suited you, drawing attention to your eyes. You hoped Larissa would like it.

Your phone buzzed and you reached for it automatically. Larissa.

“Hi, are you here?”

“I believe so, though the parking here is a little confusing.”

It was your turn to laugh - she was right, the set-up of the student apartment buildings wasn’t very visitor-friendly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll be right down.”

You grabbed your keys and your wallet, stuffing them into a little clutch that you’d dug out of the back of your closet, praying you were dressed fancy enough for wherever Larissa was taking you. She dressed rather expensively and you were sure her taste was no different.

You took the steps two at a time, somehow managing not to twist an ankle in your heeled boots, and scoured the parking lot for your date, finally spotting the woman leaned against a deep blue Rolls Royce at the other end of the lot, busy typing away on her phone.

Your cheeks warmed as you drank in her form. Her dress was silver, off-the shoulder, cinched at the waist. The fabric rippled off her hips like a waterfall, stopping just shy of her ankles. Her hands were gloved and she wore a long coat and heels that added a few inches to her already impressive height. She was stunning - and you were definitely underdressed.

You waved to her as you approached, finally getting her attention. A warm smile spread across her face and she opened the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to get in.

“Chivalrous,” you remarked, a shy smile playing on your lips.

“I can be.” Her hand brushed your shoulder and she threw you a wink before closing your door and heading over to the driver’s side.

Larissa put the car in drive and pulled onto the street, her right hand coming to rest on your thigh. “I’ve taken the liberty of making a reservation at my favorite restaurant, I do hope you’ll enjoy it.”

You swallowed hard as her thumb began to draw slow, lazy circles over the fabric of your skirt. “I’m sure I’ll love it, Larissa.”

The drive was short, less than 10 minutes, and most of it was spent humming along absentmindedly to the radio as Larissa continued her ministrations on your thigh, shooting you a glance every so often.

She pulled into the parking lot of one of the most expensive restaurants in Burlington. You moved to open your own door but Larissa was faster, having maneuvered swiftly around the car and pulled the door open for you. She placed a hand on the small of your back as she led you into the restaurant and a shiver ran up your spine, your skin burning from the contact despite the layers of fabric between the two of you.

You were led to a booth at the back of the restaurant, away from prying eyes. The waiter brought you a pair of menus as well as the wine list, before tilting his head towards you, an apology already formed in his eyes. 

“Miss, I apologize but I will have to see your ID.”

Your cheeks burned as you rifled through your purse, while Larissa busied herself with the wine list to hide the smirk forming on her lips.

The waiter checked your ID and, once satisfied, apologized again and left you to peruse the menu.

You looked at the woman across from you and saw her shoulders begin to shake with laughter.

“Hey,” you pouted, searching the table for something you could possibly toss at her to get her to stop giggling. “I’m of age, you know.”

“I never doubted that you were,” Larissa suppressed another giggle and, finally, met your gaze. “Has anyone ever told you how adorable you look when you pout like that?”

“I don’t look adorable,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and furrowing your brow, before realizing Larissa had you exactly where she wanted you. “This really isn’t fair, you know that, right?”

“Darling, I never said I played fair.” Her eyes darkened and her voice dropped an octave as she leaned across the table, her hand coming to cup your cheek. Her thumb grazed your bottom lip and you sucked in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“You’re a tease,” you whined. 

“I have a feeling you’ll come to enjoy it,” Larissa shot you a playful wink before settling back in her seat. “Now, let me spoil you.”

If the wetness pooling between the apex of your thighs was anything to go by, this was going to be a long night.

Larissa ordered a bottle of her favorite red for the table and insisted, with a pointed glare, that you don’t pay attention to the prices on the menu. The two of you spoke about art and culture as you waited for your food, and you chattered on about your art history courses. She seemed genuinely interested in your life as she rested her chin on her hand, fully captivated as she watched you with a glint in her sapphire eyes. 

“So, what is it that you do?” you asked. The woman opposite you intrigued you so - by the time your food arrived, you felt you’d been blabbering at her all evening, and you didn’t know a single thing about her yet. 

“I’m the principal of a school.” 

“Oh? Sounds intense. Which school?”

“Nevermore Academy.” Larissa seemed to tense slightly, eyes carefully searching every inch of your face. 

Your brows furrowed as you thought, carefully chewing a piece of your food. “Oh - that school for… uh, Outcasts?” You tried to recall if you were using the correct term - your roommate, Robin, had grown up in the area and told you stories of some local kids in the area who’d gone to Nevermore, vampires and werewolves and the like, though you knew she tended to over-dramatize things.

Larissa’s lips pulled into a thin line and she nodded, knuckles turning white as her fingers flexed around her silverware. 

“That sounds so cool! I’m not really from this area so I don’t know much about it, but isn’t that like everyone’s dream? To have some kind of magical superpower?” 

Larissa seemed to visibly relax, a hesitant smile gracing her lips. “I don’t quite think that’s what everyone thinks, though I’m certainly doing my best to rectify Nevermore’s reputation.”

“That’s a shame,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your wine and smiling at Larissa, trying to ease any remnants of tension that the conversation seemed to bring up - you could tell she wasn’t used to people being accepting about her profession or her status as an Outcast. Was she an Outcast? 

“I don’t know if this is rude to ask but… are you… do you have any… you know? ‘Superpowers’?” You immediately cringed at yourself for sounding so stupid, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

Larissa laughed, the sound like music to your ears. “I do, if you want to call it that.” She looked down into her wine glass, swirling the stem gently between the tips of her manicured fingers.

You raised an eyebrow and cocked your head, waiting for her to continue. She seemed to deliberate for a moment as a long silence stretched between the two of you.

“I’m a shapeshifter.” Her words rolled off her tongue as if she weighed every syllable with great care. She raised her eyes to meet yours, her expression giving away nothing except perhaps a hint of challenge. 

You racked your brain for an appropriate reaction to the admission, sensing your next words would be terribly important to the older woman. 

“Oh…” You let out a deep breath. “That seems like it would come in handy. Thank you for telling me.” You placed your hand on the table between the two of you, palm facing up, wiggling your fingers. 

Larissa looked between your eyes and your hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, placed her own hand in yours, a brilliant, toothy smile lighting up her face. Your skin tingled where hers met your own, lighting up all the nerves in your body. 

You were pleased to find that you hadn’t made a complete fool of yourself, and conversation flowed even easier after that point. Larissa opened up about the trials and tribulations that came with running an entire school, all while your hands were intertwined on the table. 

You’d long finished your meals, the bottle of wine you’d shared was nearly empty when you felt something brush against your ankle and you yelped, nearly jumping out of your seat. 

Larissa suppressed a giggle, giving your hand a squeeze as the tip of her heel grazed against the muscle of your calf. 

“How did you like the food?” Her voice was low and sultry and as she leaned across the table, you caught a strong whiff of her perfume, dowsing you in a steep wave of arousal.

“I-I loved it.” You clenched your thighs together, trying to ignore the building tension in your abdomen and focus on the present moment with your date. “It was so, so good. Really, thank you so much for taking me here.”

“Darling, the pleasure was all mine. But now I think I’d really like to have some dessert, if that’s alright with you?” Larissa’s gaze was intense, all-consuming, hungry - you felt yourself drowning in her eyes, your stomach fluttering at the prospect of what she was proposing. 

You swallowed back a whimper and nodded, unable to concentrate as the pad of Larissa’s thumb traced over your knuckles.

Larissa paid your bill, tipping generously and leading you back to her car. Her hand rested on your thigh again during the drive, inching slowly and tantalizingly higher every few minutes as the pads of her fingers began gentle ministrations against your skirt. You wished in that moment you’d worn something more revealing, feeling desperate for her touch on your skin. 

As the car pulled up a long, winding drive towards a massive, castle-like building, Larissa’s fingers finally brushed against the fabric covering your core, drawing a strangled hiss from your throat. 

“We’re here,” Larissa smirked, removing her hand from your skirt and parking the car. 

“So is this Nevermore?” You bit the inside of your cheek in a vain attempt to regain control of yourself, staring up at the imposing building through the car window with interest.

“It is, I have my apartment at the school. It’s easier that way.”

Larissa led you inside the school. You rushed after her, struggling to keep up with her long strides as she navigated her way through the dark, looming halls, completely empty at this time of night. She stopped in front of a pair of wood-paneled double doors, fishing her keys out of her purse and letting you into the apartment.

Within seconds of the door shutting behind you, Larissa’s lips were on yours. You let out a groan as she pressed you into the door, simultaneously shrugging off her coat and tossing it to the floor. Her hands trailed down your sides, cupping your ass and lifting you off the floor to pin you against the door.

Larissa’s tongue slid against the seam of your lips, coaxing a moan from your throat as you granted her access to explore your mouth. Your entire body was ablaze as she began to pepper your jaw and throat with kisses, moving her lips to your pulse point and grazing her teeth over your sensitive skin.

“Larissa, please,” you whined, the ache between your legs becoming too much. You needed her, you’d needed her since you’d first had her nearly a week ago, and the ache was finally becoming too much to bear.

“So eager.” You could feel the ghost of a smirk against your throat as Larissa carried you effortlessly back through an open doorway, nipping and sucking at the column of your throat. Larissa placed you on her bed and hovered over you, lips connecting with every inch of bare skin she could reach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

Her fingers worked at the buttons of your blouse, expertly ridding you of the garment within seconds. Your bra came next and then her mouth was on your breasts, tongue working your nipples into hard peaks as she drew breathy moans from your throat.

Your skirt joined the rest of your clothes on the floor and Larissa trailed open-mouthed kisses down your torso, biting little marks to remember the night by. You yelped when she bit down on the inside of your thigh, arousal leaking out of your core. 

Finally, Larissa’s tongue made contact with your cunt, licking a path up your folds to your clit, circling it once, twice. The scent of your arousal hung heavy in the air, spurring her on as she lapped at your pussy.

“Does this feel good, Y/N?” You could only whimper in response, fingers tangled in the sheets behind you to steady yourself. You were embarrassingly close already, simply from the effect of the woman’s intoxicating presence.

“You taste absolutely divine, my darling,” Larissa hummed, sucking your clit as her fingers teased your entrance.

“P-please,” you whimpered, thighs twitching as you brought your hands to Larissa’s hair, fingers tangling in her blonde tresses.

“Please what?” The vibrations of Larissa’s lips against your pussy were driving you wild with need.

“I’m so close…” Larissa plunged her fingers into your cunt and you bucked your hips up in time to meet her thrusts. Your walls began to clench around her fingers as you reached your first orgasm, your moans increasing in volume.

Your gaze wandered down, eyes meeting Larissa’s, and the sight was what made the coil behind your navel snap. Her pupils were blown so wide there was not a sliver of sapphire visible, her cheeks were dusted pink, her hair was coming out of its elegant updo, curls falling messily across her forehead.

Larissa lapped up the juices leaking out of your core as you rode out your high, planting soothing kisses along the insides of your thighs and cleaning you up while you steadied your breathing. 

She moved up your body, connecting your lips in a bruising kiss so that you could taste yourself on her tongue, swallowing your moan.

Larissa pulled back to look at you, the insatiable hunger in her eyes setting a fire ablaze inside of you.

“Y/N, can you be a good girl for me?” Your thighs clenched together with want and you nodded fervently. There it was again - good girl - of course you would be, you would be anything for her.

Larissa slid off to the side of the bed and tugged at the zipper of her dress, revealing the smooth expanse of her back, dotted with pale freckles. She slid the dress farther down, until it reached the swell of her ass, then allowed it to fall to the floor. 

To your absolute delight she’d forgone a bra, and as she turned to face you your breath hitched in your chest, struck by the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. The peaks of her nipples, hardened by a chill in the air; the slight swell of her stomach, disappearing into red lacy panties; the freckles on her shoulders, sprawled out like constellations.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, secretly a bit pleased at yourself with the hint of a blush you were able to produce on the apple’s of Larissa’s cheeks.

“My darling girl,” she cooed sweetly, a contrast to the devious smirk playing upon her lips. “Do you remember what I was telling you earlier? About me being a shapeshifter?”

You nodded slowly, brows furrowing, unsure where the woman was going with this. 

“I am able to shift… certain parts of myself.” Your mind, still a bit hazy from your first orgasm, raced in an attempt to compute what she was saying. Larissa towered over you, waiting patiently until - finally - your eyes widened as comprehension dawned on your face. 

“I would so like to take you tonight, my dear,” Larissa’s voice was low and sultry and you could only nod eagerly. You felt your heart begin to race, heat pooling between your legs at her proposal. She smirked down at you with kiss-swollen lips, lipstick smudged, and you knew you were done for.

Larissa crawled on top of you, planting sloppy, heated kisses along your jaw. It was then that you felt it - an unfamiliar bulge, pressing insistently against your leg through the lace of Larissa’s underwear. 

“You make me so hard,” she groaned. You moaned involuntarily as the older woman began to grind against your thigh, rubbing her bulge against your sensitive skin. Your skin buzzed with electricity, all the blood in your body seemingly rushing straight to your cunt. You needed her inside you.

Larissa pushed herself up to discard her panties, her full length now on display, standing to attention. Your pupils dilated as you stared at her, transfixed, drool pooling in your mouth. You dropped your thighs open, revealing your dripping sex, and Larissa chuckled at your neediness.

“My beautiful girl, so ready for me.” Larissa gazed down at you fondly, cupping your cheek with her hand. She traced your lower lip with her thumb, letting out a moan as you sucked it into your mouth.

“Lay back,” she instructed, and you did as you were told, chest heaving as Larissa crawled on top of you, pressing her body into yours, her skin hot to the touch. She reached a hand between the two of you to grasp her cock and drag the tip up your slit, whimpering at the sensation.

You bucked your hips up, whining needily and fisting at the sheets.

“Darling,” Larissa whispered, her breath hot on the shell of your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.”

Your own breath hitched in your chest as she finally pushed inside of you, letting out a guttural moan as your warm pussy clenched around her length.

She paused for a moment to allow you to get used to the sensation of being filled. “Is this alright?”

“Mhmm. It’s good.” You shifted your hips, watching carefully as Larissa’s eyelids fluttered shut, eyelashes brushing against flushed cheekbones. “How does it feel for you?”

Larissa smiled sweetly, opening her eyes and gazing down at you as a light blush spread across her cheeks. “It feels amazing.” Her expression turned wistful. “No one’s ever asked me that.”

It was something you couldn’t fathom, and with some effort due to your height difference and the position, you reached up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, fingertips brushing lovingly against her jaw as if trying to convey an apology for every idiot who had ever slept with her and not cared for her pleasure.

You rocked your hips a bit, causing Larissa to shift above you. “May I?” You nodded, teeth sinking into your lip as she began to slide out of you, then back in, slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to her.

Larissa found a steady rhythm inside of you, rocking her hips against yours, stretching you out with every thrust. She seemed to hit every nerve-ending inside of you, knowing exactly how to move her hips to have you writhing in pleasure beneath her. 

Your hands clung to the sheets beneath you, fingers twisting so hard at the fabric that you might rip it. Larissa’s hands settled on your waist, steadying herself so she could pick up her pace. You stared, enraptured, her tits bouncing as she pounded into you.

Larissa leaned over you so that she could press a searing kiss to your lips as her hands came to rest next to your head.

“Tell me what you want,” Larissa cooed, continuing her brutal pace inside your cunt.

“Oh- fuck, Rissa, use me.”

Larissa’s moans became filthier by the minute and you could tell, somewhere behind the hazy cloud of your impending orgasm, that she must be close too by the way the snapping of her hips was becoming more and more erratic, the way her breath was coming out in short puffs, the way her hand that she used to steady herself next to your head twisted at the sheets with white-knuckled desperation.

“Be a good girl for me and come with me, darling,” Larissa breathed, groaning as she thrusted into you, on the verge of climax.

You came first, your senses flooding with delight as you reached your peak. It was pure ecstasy, feeling your walls clench around Larissa’s cock. You could hear the older woman’s own cry above you and you forced your eyes to stay open so you could watch her, her face contorted with pleasure above you; eyes screwed shut, jaw slack. 

Larissa slid out of you carefully, chuckling as you mewled pathetically at the sudden feeling of emptiness. She slumped onto the mattress beside you, completely spent, slipping her arm under your torso to pull you into a soft embrace. With her body pressed against yours, skin to skin, you could feel that she’d shifted back again.

“That was… wow,” you sighed, nuzzling into Larissa’s chest. She laughed, a melodious sound that you immediately committed to memory.

“It was indeed.” She pressed her lips to yours in an affectionate, loving kiss. “You did so well for me, love,” she murmured, fingertips skating across the skin of your back in soothing patterns. You breathed in her scent, allowing it to wash over you and calm your still racing heart.

“I can drive you home but-” Larissa saw the slight pout of your lower lip and grinned, “but I would love it if you’d stay the night. Perhaps I could entice you with breakfast in bed?”

You smiled up at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “You could entice me with you. I would love to stay the night.”

Larissa settled back against the pillows, pulling you on top of her, relishing the contact with your bare skin. She pressed her lips to your forehead, watching your eyes flutter closed and listening intently as your breathing slowed before allowing herself to succumb to sleep, a peaceful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. 

x

tags: @enchantressb @rainbow-hedgehog

[iiapple]

do you hate knife as a character or what the fandom/his relationship with suitcase has turned into /genq

both

theres aspects to him i enjoy though usually its paired with another character's interactions with the general juvenile violence in season 1 - early season 2. knife and trophy's whole deal is so ridiculously stupid its laughable but in an enjoyable way where im kinda entertained. it can make for a lot of funny interactions that are just jabs at one another (and trophy getting the short end of the dick which is always funny). he and pickle are fun too even without the romancey shippinf component, they can be at a base just stupid gay bros that chill. while he was caught up in mic's business and did lend a hand in her arc, i do prefer how it is now where again, its just slight jabs and non melodramatic fun (add in soap to grill his ass, soapmic knickle video game sesh and soap is crushing everyone at it like hell)

however its the push of him needing to be this "philosophical deep guy who analyzes everyone correctly and its soooooo interesting how much hes changed" that really irks me. because i honestly dont buy it and just see a man who self pities under the guise of "learning and growing i help others now because ive changed". hes like balloon to me in that sense except hes able to keep it composed and together without becoming outwardly desperate. its honestly irritating how much of an involvement he has now and again, how much of a push there is to him being in the top 2 after "all his growth". i just dont give a fuck. why should i give a fuck about a man who burnt and harassed and bullied and tortured a woman in season 1 for fun, and had others try to join in on it too? and the GALL of him to even apologize to marshmallow for it too LOOOOOL... "ohhhh poor me im sorry marshmallow for hurting you before" pussy couldnt even state what he did to her, weak ass self fellating apology im SO glad marsh didnt accept it and was NOT kind about it in front of him. she shouldve start throwing rocks at him. all this "change and teaching" i will never forgive that man for what he did to women

not to mention, how practically of little to no help he was towards suitcase who, was dealing with bigger issues than he was as if hes fuckin get it. such bullshit advice and "lessons" hed tell her when its like dude, shut the hell up!!! youre saying the dumbest shit and still pinning it all against her somehow when shes been tossed around her supposed alliance because those 3 idiots couldnt get shit together for once. that AND her psychosis coming onto the foreground of it all of course shes not gonna talk about it further because you keep pushing in shit that she has no fault in, as if shedve trust you with that. its sweet that theyre working now against everything now but god lol, i just dont buy their newfound ammends and friendship of sort personally

what the fandom has done is REALLY hyopcritical. now im not gonna say its every single person who does this, nor am i a fan of monolith-ing (?) a group of people because of a common pattern, but its just really REALLY funny seeing people going after pairings like lairy or whatever saying its "proship" while shipping a man who has a history of violence on women with a psychotic woman who he has offered piss poor assistance to in the name of his own weird beliefs of changing and helping. idgaf for discourse around a bunch of pixels over trivial shit that really isnt THAT big of an issue (lairy discourse), especially because well, theyre wrong as fuck, but how are people gonna say one thing then turn around and do The Same Shit under another flavour. knifecase is such a kick in the balls to women and another example of how fandom greatly prefers men over women WHATEVER the situation is. theyll fawn over a man whos done shit and think "yeah hes my poor onglydoople poop. only HE suffers in this work of media" while greatly ignoring the issues the women in the same piece of work deal with by writing (misogyny) and circumstances (misogyny again). this world is founded immensely on misogyny and we're never getting the fuck out of it and while yeah im ranting about object character violence being sexist/misogynistic, you gotta get that its all a repeated pattern of these behaviours these mentalities this culture. you can argue one thing about writers intentions and beliefs, we dont know these people well enough to point fingers and label. however, how are YOU digesting it? shitting it out? what is your overall take and without using gay fandom buzzwords and misogynist thinking describe the women in the show (rhetorical)

[gacha-incels]

this article has been run thru mtl and edited. if there are any discrepancies please lmk and I’ll edit it asap. thanks everyone for your continued help and patience

Segye Ilbo Exclusive: "No Sexual Crime Charge Despite 'Humiliation Request'… The Perpetrator Aspires to Become a Teacher" By Jeong Ji-hye Published on September 8, 2024, 10:14 AM

"They posted my name, resident registration number, and address in a photo, asking, 'Please humiliate her,' and threatened to 'enslave me.' But since they didn’t explicitly ask for sexual harassment, it’s not considered a sexual crime."

A (18), a high school student from Seoul, met with Segye Ilbo on August 30 to discuss her experience of catching a perpetrator who attempted to commit a Deepfake sexual crime against her via Telegram last May. Although she was able to quickly identify the perpetrator and prevent further damage, the emotional aftermath continues to trouble her.

The incident began in mid-May when A received a message from someone claiming to be preparing to join the police force. The message said she was involved in a digital sex crime. At first, A thought it was a spam message, but after hearing from a friend about the rise of Deepfake crimes, she decided to follow up with the informant.

The materials A received were shocking. The captured conversations included her name, phone number, Instagram ID, home address, a photo of her ID, and various other documents like her USB contents, resume, and family relationship certificate. In a group chat, the perpetrator sought someone to "humiliate" A, and upon finding someone, they would move to a private chat to share more detailed information about her.

A, who described herself as generally quiet at school, was terrified to learn that someone held such deep animosity toward her. She suspected the perpetrator was a fellow student but couldn’t pinpoint who it might be. Eventually, the informant advised her to check her Instagram followers, as the perpetrator had just sent her a follow request on her private account.

It turned out to be someone she knew—a male student from her class, B. Shocked, A realized that the seemingly "normal" B was the one behind the crime. She matched his Telegram profile with the perpetrator’s and reported him to the police, who confirmed that they could identify the perpetrator. Within a week of receiving the first message, B was caught.

Because A was able to identify the perpetrator quickly, she avoided being victimized by Deepfake content. The perpetrator hadn’t yet obtained photos beyond her ID photo to create a Deepfake image. A expressed relief, saying, "I post a selfie on my public Instagram account about once a month, and it seems like the perpetrator couldn’t find any images after deciding to commit the crime. If I had posted a photo just a week later, the situation might have been different."

"I wasn't the only one affected. So many others have suffered. It made me realize we need to root this out completely."

A few months later, A learned that what she experienced was part of a much larger issue involving nationwide Deepfake pornography production. She realized this was a continuation of the infamous 2019 Telegram Nth Room sexual exploitation case. A suspected there could be overlap between the perpetrators, and since they hadn’t all been caught, they might continue committing similar crimes.

A decided to come forward for this interview, hoping to raise awareness of the need for appropriate punishment, even for attempted Deepfake production and "humiliation" requests. Although B specifically targeted A and made degrading comments about turning her into a slave, no charges were applied. Even posting her ID and personal information couldn’t be punished under current laws. In the end, B was only charged with theft for stealing her USB, avoiding criminal punishment and facing only juvenile court.

A representative from Nowon Police Station commented, "The case was processed under theft and the Personal Information Protection Act, and we referred the theft charge to the prosecutor's office." However, they explained that since B did not use A’s resident registration number for identity verification, it wasn’t punishable under the Resident Registration Act. The police also noted that since no digital manipulation occurred, they couldn’t classify it as a digital sex crime. There was no clear regulation for the "humiliation" request either.

While four individuals, including the informant, are suspected of discussing A’s "humiliation" with B in private chats, forensic analysis of B’s phone was not conducted. The police explained, "At the time, we determined that there was no one else holding A’s data."

The Nowon Police official further noted, "With the rise of new crimes like Deepfake, there is momentum for new laws to address even attempted crimes. Once laws are in place, we will be able to apply appropriate penalties."

"I'm a senior in high school, and going through this makes it hard to even dream about college life. As for the perpetrator? He wants to become a math teacher."

B, who was sent to juvenile court, faced a forced transfer under the School Violence Countermeasures Committee. Unlike expulsion, which leaves a permanent record, forced transfers are erased after four years. By the time B graduates from university and seeks employment, no trace of the incident will remain. The education office cited that "it was a one-time offense, and he showed signs of remorse," as the reason for the lenient punishment.

A said, "I never received an apology from B, and even though he was supposed to submit a handwritten apology to the school, nothing was delivered." She expressed frustration, believing that B was merely pretending to be remorseful during the committee hearing to avoid harsher consequences.

The aftermath of the incident severely impacted A’s academic performance and mental health. She couldn’t concentrate on her studies due to depression and panic attacks. Though B is no longer at the school, some of his friends remain, leaving A in constant fear of illegal filming or further harm. She is currently on medication and has taken academic leave, virtually giving up on this year’s college entrance exam.

Meanwhile, B is reportedly preparing for university entrance exams at his new school, aiming to become a math teacher. A noted that the fact that her daily life remains disrupted while B's proceeds almost unaffected is what infuriates her the most.

When asked if she had someone to confide in, A said, "Not really. Everyone wants to move on, so I don’t talk about it. I also don’t want to burden my family or friends with my emotions." She added, "It's hard to approach people now, and I fear that expressing my anxiety will make me seem weak. I constantly worry about being targeted again if I upset someone."

Jeong Ji-hye, Reporter wisdom@segye.com