#I’ll be an eighty year old virgin

[ragingbookdragon]

No I was just ghosted again

That’s it boys

I’m going to haunt ships for the rest of my life

No love

Only hypnotizing singing

And murder

[simpjaes]

EROTIC EMPATHY (s.jy)

Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Nope. Are you about to? Yep. or the one where jake has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out. 

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it

WORDCOUNT― 12.7k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader 

CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that, facetime-sex, real life sex

SIDE CHARACTERS― jay as reader’s best friend and roommate, heeseung briefly as jake’s friend.

NOTE― if you've read this before it's because im the person who wrote it [ncteez] and im revamping it for jake, pls don't send me messages on either account about stealing a work that's already mine!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags―big huge dick jake, phone sex (ish), face time sex,  masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again,  no condom aka cream pie, jake gets feelings like immediately when u touch him

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Jay with a chuckle. “yes or no?”

Jay snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.

“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend. 

You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything. 

“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m gonna say yes.”

Jay groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you. 

“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”

You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-two-year-old Jake and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Jay laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the same way you do.

Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.

Fucking quiet.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before 

Jake: ….i’m 21, it says that in my bio

You: I think you’re lying. 

Jake: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol

You: why would i help you lie to other women

Jake: i’m not lying!!1

You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity. 

You: ok, twenty-one-year-old “jaeyun” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?

Jake: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after

Jake: maybe it's the playlists idk

You: send me the playlist

Jake: [spotify link to a playlist titled “NUT”] 

You try not to snort, but you do. Given, he does have decent taste, but why anyone would have dynamite by bts and never say never by justin bieber on their sex playlist is beyond you. 

You: surely it’s not your playlist…….

You: anyway

You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, like, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?

Jake: yea

You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’ve never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything

Jake: u don’t think im ugly? :) 

Jake: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before

You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?

Jake: can we stop talking about why im a virgin

You: sure but you know im gonna bring it up again, right?

You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity. 

You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.

Jake, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty. 

Jake: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number] 

You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile. 

You: [screen shot// contact name: grandpa jake] 

Grandpa Jake: :| 

Grandpa Jake: im 21

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, here’s the thing. Jake is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him. 

You: it’s been like four days since we started talking

Grandpa Jake: yep, almost five

You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?

Grandpa Jake: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol

You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something

Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.

Grandpa Jake: i do NOT have a micropenis

You: prove it

Grandpa Jake: right now???

You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly. 

You: answer my question first

It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not. 

Grandpa Jake: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here 

Grandpa Jake: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!

He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least. 

You: they won’t let you have anyone over? 

Grandpa Jake: well, that too but 

Grandpa Jake: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did

You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?

Grandpa Jake: her boyfriend walked in

You: WHAT

You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind. 

Grandpa Jake: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend

You: phew 

Grandpa Jake: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not? 

The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes. 

You: yeah, sure. 

You: about the micropenis though, 

Grandpa Jake: right…um

A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first dick pic from Jake. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.

You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok 

Grandpa Jake:  just give me a sec damn

He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic? 

Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.

He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down. 

Grandpa Jake: [image attachment] 

In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Jake though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.

You: oh, you were jerking off, got it. 

Grandpa Jake: sorry can’t help it 

Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books. 

You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis

You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good and watches porn like 24/7. You can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.

Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now that’s causing him to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers. 

“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Heeseung or some shit.

“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?” 

The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it’s you on the other line sends his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as you do via text. 

God, this alone is enough for him right now. 

“Were you at least thinking of me?”

He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides. 

“Were you looking at my pictures?”

He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him to talk right now, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.

“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more. 

“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”

“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”

“Letting me come over and actually do it?” That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow and bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement.

“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it. 

“I can facetime you.” 

He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately. 

“No! no, we can facetime–”

Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.

You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.

Oh fuck.

There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Looking at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.

“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”

He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.

“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”

You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at. 

“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Jake?”

“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his name come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. “This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits now, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly as he watches between your spread legs. 

In a way, he wonders if you can see how desperate he is. There’s no way you can’t, right? Like, you can see how badly he wants you, right?

“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”

He groans again with deep breaths, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it. 

“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”

You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you. 

“Better?”

Jake watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day. 

“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.

“Can I do what?  Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”

Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off. 

“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, uncaring of how dirty it sounds falling out of his throat with a moan. 

His eyes are boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy. Just like him.

His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him. 

“Is this what you want?” You start, making damn sure he can see every part of your glistening cunt. “You want to fuck this?” You chuckle now, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.

“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”

You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself. 

“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point. 

“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it, mouth falling open at the mere thought of it. 

“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”

Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes him look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.

You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered. 

His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful. 

“S-shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”

“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”

After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.

“Are you, um, done?” Jake says, disappointed.

“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”

His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off. 

“You still wanna see me after this?”

You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.

“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up. 

“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand. 

“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”

You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Grandpa Jake: what about 3pm on thurs?

You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???

Grandpa Jake: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours

You: or you could just come here? 

Grandpa Jake: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol

You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird

Jake contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway. 

You: what about tomorrow, 8pm? 

Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. God, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car. 

Grandpa Jake: send ur address, ill be there :) 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Heeseung croaks through the speaker at Jake, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke. 

“Why do you have to say it that way?” Jake groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”

“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Heeseung laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”

Jake laughs, or snorts really. 

“Oh, she’s real.”

Heeseung sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest. 

“Hm? Have you already met her?”

“Kind of. We like, um,” Jake pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”

Silence.

“She got naked.”

“Oh ho ho!” Heeseung encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?” 

“That’s what I said–wait,” Jake smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Heeseung just said. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Heeseung laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”

Then he hangs up. 

Grandpa Jake: do u think im a loser?

You: yeah kinda

You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Jay.

“That him texting?” Jay quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him. 

You laugh again at Jake’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Jay that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night. 

“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Jay. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”

“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”

“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Jake sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”

“I did not need to know that.” Jay sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet. 

“You act like you don’t ask every time I fuck someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Weirdo.”

Jay stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone. 

“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend. 

“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”

He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms. 

“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”

“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.” 

He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch. 

“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on any cum when I get home.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Jake is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by. 

So many “are you sures,” so many “you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos,” and even more “i can’t wait to see yous.”

“Jay, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. 

You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Jake is doing the same, and smile.

“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”

You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.

“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”

Jay laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today. 

“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you. 

“Thanks, that’s the plan.”

And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around seven thirty. 

Grandpa Jake: i’m a little early, is that ok? 

“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Jay. 

He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet. 

“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”

You give him a knowing look before nodding. 

You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.

Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Jay is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be. 

Not only did Jake think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment. 

“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–” 

“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Jay smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”

Jake does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Jay and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside. 

“She got all cleaned up for you.” Jay whispers, throwing Jake a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Jake still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, that’s my roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen. 

“Have you and him ever like…” Jake immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird. 

“Jay?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”

Immediately Jake moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.

When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him. 

Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, yes, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. 

He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Jake is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex. 

Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh in the short period of time you’ve known him along with how many times he’s willingly embarrassed himself

And now for the first time, he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants.

“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”

Jake tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more. 

“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the fact that this is happening. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks. 

You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Jake and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”

Jake laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.

He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. 

Now he’s here, and you’re right there. 

It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.

You turn after grabbing him the bottle and are shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back. 

He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him. 

For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly. 

His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now. 

If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Jay’s sake. 

“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”

“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”

Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.

You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against the wall, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone. 

You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.

Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera. 

“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him. 

At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.

“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”

He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and gripping your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you. 

It looks like he’s been wanting to do this to someone all his life, with his needy body proving it time and time again. Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again. 

“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”

He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. You can feel his nervous yet eager breath against you, making your eyelashes flutter at even that slight sensation. 

“Go on then.” You sigh out, trying to prepare for what he can manage with that pretty mouth of his.

You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts. 

He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy spread out like this on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal, to the point he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here. 

He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place. 

It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in a reaction at what he’s doing to you.

Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go. 

“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” You compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Keep licking there, and use your fingers too.” 

He hums without stopping, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen. 

You can feel his fingers make their way into you shortly after, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own in response, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you. 

“Just like that,” You encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you. 

It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.

“So good,” You say shortly, trying to give him the praise he needs while scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper. 

He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.

All day. He could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.

He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach orgasm so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.

“Faster, with your fingers—“ You choke out in a drawn out and pornographic moan, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say. 

There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.

Insane, really, that he needed to taste the messy relief before resuming. 

Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone. 

You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt. 

He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his cock in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.

“Did you…?” He asks softly, dipping his head shyly with his wet chin shining in the light of your room.

You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs. 

“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and want nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, I'm gonna do the same for you.”

He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.

“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.

“N-No!  It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that– like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”

His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Jake.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”

The light in his eyes returns and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you. 

“Jake, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his name loud and clear. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.” 

Well, he can’t have that now, can he? 

He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?

Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure. 

You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth when you pull back slightly. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base. 

He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking him in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes. 

It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, even through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop. 

He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of his cock and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on him like that, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it. 

He’s in love.

He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls. 

“Wait, wait wait–” Jake groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look. 

“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.

“No!” He heaves out with fluttering lashes, trying to regain sanity. “I was just getting really close.”

“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth. 

You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again. 

His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again. 

“Ah–wait–fuck.” He tries to protest, not wanting to finish so quickly, but there it goes. There he goes.

Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His eyes roll back and his fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it– how?

“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”

You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face. 

“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice. “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”

He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?

But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him. 

“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before and letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”

He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view. 

You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well. 

“I– I don’t even know at this point.” He admits with a stammer, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.

“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”

He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against the muscles and soft skin there.

He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.

He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.

“Already?” 

He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs. 

“I want to, um…” He shifts his eyes away from you. “Can I eat you out again?”

That’s new. Twice in one session?

“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”

You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up. 

You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up in front of him. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this. 

You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again. 

His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time. 

“It’s really the prettiest.” He says in a clear and shaking voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”

You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now. 

“Yeah? You just gonna stare at it?” You try to urge him, and it works.

Because of course it works. 

You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more. 

He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him just to feel his tongue chase. He eventually holds you in place against him, big hands holding you firmly against his face with a bit of force. And now? He’s licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now. 

You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard again is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense. 

After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you cum this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle. 

He hums out a rumbled moan at the sound of your cunt squelching around his fingers. So wet. More wet than any of the girls in the porn he’s watched for years. You’re dripping around his fingers, and the smacking sound is so fucking arousing to him.

And yeah, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you. 

The sound of your pussy amplifies when it’s against his tongue, and honestly, he could cum right now if he really wanted to. Already he’s hard again, but god feeling you, hearing you, seeing you like this for him? For some guy who has never once been able to give a girl his all like this? 

He’s so focused on you.

Which for you, is a bit of an issue because he’s really not going to let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself. 

He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that. 

You pull your body away from him quickly to let your rising orgasm subside, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him. 

“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”

He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair. 

“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”

“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “If you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”

His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–

“Really?” He asks, knowing full well the answer.. 

“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct with deep breaths, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, yeah?”

He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this. 

Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His is cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.

“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no,” He breathes in a sharp breath and grips your hips. ”Do that again.” 

You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard. 

You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this. 

You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, his little rumbled grow-like moans only made this all the more arousing.

“Ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds. 

He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now. 

“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”

“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” 

He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit is fucking raw for the first time? 

“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”

He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him. 

“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you. 

You smile, humming at him when you lift from him, standing on your knees to grab his cock and position him in the right place. 

“You sure you want it too?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it. 

“Fuck, yes.” His fingers tighten against you, his eyes squeeze shut, and his voice comes out as frantic and quite frankly, a bit annoyed. “Just do it already.” 

You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation. 

He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob. 

By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him makes you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.

“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you. 

He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So fucking hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good. 

Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the new feeling. 

You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again. 

His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling. 

You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside. 

“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.

That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it. 

You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.

You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you. 

He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound. 

For a moment, you think you can actually hear him unintentionally growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it. 

You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.

“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”

He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from cumming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you. 

You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely. 

You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints. 

“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, do it with me–”

Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable. 

“Oh, god. I’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.

He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy pulse around him as he continues to empty himself into you. 

It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense. 

Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good. 

By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity. 

He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.

In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (He’s being dramatic.)

All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Heeseung does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake. 

But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other woman and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.

You made him cum twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.

There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.

And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.

The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird. 

This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least. 

“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a cum-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”

He looks at you, and then at his food.

“Yeah, I guess I should…” 

“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”

It’s silent for a minute.

“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”

Thank fuck Jake is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet either. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.

Maybe you will be ready to give up the single life if it’s with Jake. 

You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes. 

Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?

“Hey, I should probably call Jay and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”

Jake nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out. 

“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”

You snort at him with a laugh right as Jay answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Jake’s friend than Jay whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents. 

“Hey Jay, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up. 

Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Jake and his phone. 

“Put him on speaker.”

Jake does just that, laughing at Heeseung’s reaction when he hears you speak rather than his best friend over the line. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[ladiablita209]

If I were to date someone again in the future I’m setting up severe needs and boundaries. For example, I have at least one close to death incident every year so I genuinely don’t need anyone who wants temporary or a casual fling. I may be nineteen but I feel like I’m stuck in the inner body of an eighty year old who’s always in pain, has joint issues, fatigue, and trouble eating. I also feel like I’ve lived a lifetime and as if I’m playing with time. Secondly, I’m fluffy. That’s a given already and yes, I plan to continue to try my best with losing enough fluff for my hip surgery but once and if I get it, that’s me having to learn how to walk all over again since technically I’ve never walked properly (I risk damaging my hip when wearing platforms but I take my back up shoes everywhere I go). Regardless though, I’m not going to be “normal.” I’m going to have limitations even after getting my hips fixed but I’ll have more freedom and enjoyment of life. Thirdly, I use a powered wheelchair. Pretty self explanatory that I’m an ambulatory wheelchair user. Meaning, I use it for long distances so I’m able to walk around once I get inside the store and I’m in an aisle I’d like to browse. I can walk and I still walk. I just walk weirdly and sometimes can’t or it’s too painful. So, if we go out on dates, beware of stares from ignorant people. Fourthly, I’m not into sex. Sure, it’s a tempting thought on occasion but it sounds painful because of my hip issue and I just want to keep my virginity in general. Physical intimacy was genuinely ruined for me because I felt like people gave me more reasons to avoid it than actually take part in it. Cuddles, hugs, forehead kisses, kissing, and more vanilla is my thing but I also like intense things depending how comfortable I end up being with someone. Last but not least, see me. Not the mold you want to shape me to be. Also, having kids is a no. I’ve known since the time I was in first grade that I did not plan on having any. I’d be risking my life and the kids life with a possible miscarriage or my genetics being terrible.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty-Six (Part 3)

Later on, back at my parents house, he parallel parks his car out on the street in one easy manoeuvre, and for some reason, that simple action knocks the wind out of me. “That was hot,” I say. 

He eyes me, amused. “Keep your knickers on Kilbride. At least until we get upstairs.”

“Oh, yeah,” I grimace as I lead him up the driveway. “My parents want you to sleep on the couch,” I expect him to make a joke about it, or say something like “It’s a bit late for them to save your virginity,” But he understands. Shrugging, he just says, “Yeah, sure. Absolutely.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just how they are, they were always really strict about boys and things. They never even let me go camping if someone’s boyfriend was going to be there. I think it was a teen pregnancy thing.”

“I get it, it’s their house so it’s their rules,” He says. “Plus, the pregnancy thing… I mean, it is catholic Ireland after all.”

When we go inside my parents are just settling in front of the TV with a glass of wine. They swivel their heads when the front door slams. “Oh, hope you don’t mind, Jude,” My mother says very politely. “But we’re just going to watch something before bed. I’ll make the couch up for you afterwards.”

“There’s no rush, but thank you Marian.” He smiles. 

“Can we hang out in my room?” I ask. 

“Yes but leave the door open,” I’m aware that this is a glimpse into what my life would have been like if I’d actually had a boyfriend when I was a teenager, and I wonder if mam is thinking the same thing. It’s like seeing the ghost ship I never boarded and feels weird. I take Jude’s hand and lead him upstairs. 

“This is my room,” I say, reverently opening the door. “I know it’s small. Everything in this house is small.”

“It’s not that small,” He says. “But I’m actually more shocked that I can see the floor,” I laugh and punch him gently in the arm. “That’s only because I don’t live here anymore. You should have seen it when I was still at school, it was absolutely disgusting. All of the time. Like old mugs of tea and everything,” I glance at him as I move to sit on the bed to see how repulsive he finds that, but he doesn’t even flinch as he carefully leaves the door ajar behind him and plonks next to me. “My room was sick too,” He admits. “I had such an aversion to keeping it tidy, it was like, the only room in the house that I wouldn’t let the cleaner into. It felt like a weird control thing.” 

“How did all of the girls you brought home feel about that?” I tease, and he gives me a sidelong glance. “All three thousand of them, you mean?”

I laugh and smooth the covers of my bed, freshly changed into the same pink frilly ones I remember picking out in the shop about twelve years ago. They’re thin and faded from use now, and I still remember how vibrant they used to be. “Well this bed has never seen any action,” I say. “It’s pure innocence objectified. I never even had a chaste kiss in this room. How sad.” Jude remedies that quickly by planting a firm lips on mine. “Glad to be the first,” He says, and I blush like a little girl. 

“Oh, look,” He says, eyes catching something over my shoulder, and reaches to the bedside table to take a framed photo into his hands. He turns it to show me a photo that’s been there forever. It’s me, smiling with a missing left incisor tooth on the day of my first holy communion. “Tiny little bride.”

I gaze at it fondly. “That was 2001. Caroline, Shane’s mam sewed that dress for me because I didn’t like any of the ones in the shops. It was so exciting to have something custom made and along with that I got eighty pounds in gifts that day.”

“Pounds?”

“Yeah we didn’t have the euro yet.”

“Well that’s a lot of money for an eight year old.”

“Kelly got three hundred and twenty five pounds and a gold necklace with praying hands on it.” I say, lips pursed with envy.

“Is that a rough estimation, or?”

I take the picture into my own hands and brush the light layer of dust away from the glass. I was so small. Small even for an eight year old. This was a little bit before my sudden, dramatic and heinously awkward growth spurt that turned me from a tiny child to an angular jumble of sharp knees and elbows the height of an adult woman in the space of ten months. I remember how much bigger the other girls looked in the communion group photo, especially Kelly, who even got her first period the following year. For some reason looking at myself as a child makes me emotional, because I’ve come to understand that all of the things that have happened to me in my life have happened to her. When I scold myself for being unworthy or undeserving of happiness and nice things, amn’t I really saying those things to this child? I place the picture back on the table. “Sometimes I wish I was little again.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

I rest my hand on his knee and he turns it over to wind our fingers together. “What were you like?” He asks. 

“I was so quiet, and so anxious. I got overwhelmed and I cried an awful lot.”

“I’m sure you were more than those things.”

“I liked drawing, reading, and playing with dolls,” I say. “I used to take all of the books out of the bookcase in the living room and turn it into a high-rise apartment for my Bratz dolls. I made beds out of shoe boxes with face cloths for the sheets. I was always making up stories for them.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Love stories,” I smile, “Always love stories, like, finding the perfect man was the ultimate goal. I was obsessed.”

“Lucky you found him,” He smirks, and I push him away from me. 

“Do you think you’d have liked me when you were a child? Or a teenager?” I ask. “Like, if we’d gone to the same school do you think we’d have gotten along?”

“Yeah.” He says, “I wish I’d known a kid like you back then. I think we would have been good for each other, you know? It seems like we wanted the same thing but could never get it from the people around us.”

“What’s that?”

“Not to grow up too quickly, like, to be allowed to just be a kid.”

These words make my heart ache with want. I don’t think I ever really thought about how badly I needed permission to just be how I wanted to be. To not rush things, to not have awful kisses with boys when I wasn’t old enough to have those feelings, to not steal cans of cider from my dad’s stash and take them down to a field to drink. I wish I never worried about fake IDs and someone’s eighteen year old sister that kind of looks like me if you squint your eyes, or about having the shortest skirt at school, rolled up at the waist until I had to hold it to the back of my legs going up the stairs.

“I still want that.” I whisper. 

“Me too.”

I’m almost sure I’m about to burst out crying, so I quickly turn around and whip open the bottom drawer of my bedside table, remembering the things I had intended to show him when he visited. “Look.” I say, dropping them onto his lap, much to his surprise. “These are my dirtiest secrets.” He seems a bit confused about what he’s looking at. A form. A book. A scrap of card. 

I clarify, “These are my Jude things.”

“Oh,” He says, opening the cover of Goodnight Mr Tom. “This is my book.”

I nod. “I stole it.”

“I didn’t take you for a thief,” His eyes are gleaming. He didn’t take me for one, but he likes it. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “It was just on impulse, the morning of your flight before I left your house I just kind of… rushed in and snatched it. I liked that it had your handwriting in it, I suppose,” I pull the scrap of card out from underneath the book to show him. “As does this. Do you remember this?”

“Yeah, of course,” He breathes. “I was trying to sound so nonchalant. ‘See you later, alligator,’” He lets out a short, mocking laugh. “Dickhead. That was a shit morning. I sat in the kitchen having this miserable bowl of cereal, hoping you’d wake up and come down to say goodbye to me. I don’t know what this note was about, to be honest. Just a last ditch effort for some contact with you. Maybe I thought I was being romantic.”

“I used to look at it every night and cry,” I admit. “That’s so embarrassing, Jesus. Sorry, but I did. I cried for weeks.”

“Awh, man.”

I pull the final item out and lay it on top of the other two with intention. “And this is the admission form for the Berlin Academy of Fine Arts.”

His eyes snap to mine. “You applied?”

“Well, no. I didn’t. See? The form is empty.”

He smooths his hands over the paper like there is some intense meaning to the pages and its blank boxes. “I can’t believe you considered that. That’s nuts.”

“It was nuts. You weren’t even speaking to me at that point, I was just so desperate for some contact with you. I was probably one step away from sending one cent to your bank account with a note saying ‘please text me’,” I observe him. “What would you have done if I actually applied and got accepted?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I would have been shocked. Is it what you would have really wanted?”

I consider this. “To be with you? Yes. But to live in Berlin? No, I don’t think it was the right thing for me. I wasn’t ready to live abroad.”

“Well then I’m really glad you didn’t. Imagine chasing eighteen year old Jude Turner to Germany,” He shudders. “Disaster.”

I laugh and hook my thigh over his so that he can rest his hand on it. “I think I’d be so sickened if you changed your plans for me. Like at that point in your life anyway. Things are so changeable right now and every choice feels so important. If you’d come to Berlin it would have been so wrong, you mightn’t have been making any of the amazing things that you’re making now. I’d have felt so guilty if I knew I was the sole reason you chose to come.”

“Well, lucky I didn’t.”

There’s a long silence after he moves the items off his lap and onto the bed, and we both stare off into the distance, his fingers pulsing a gentle rhythm on the top of my knee. Grasshoppers chirp outside now, and the sound drifts through the open window in unison with the muggy air while bass notes from the TV downstairs reverberate through the floor. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you looked at jobs in LA?” It’s out of me before I even realise it, but Jude turns and looks at me like he’s been waiting for me to ask him all day. “Because it was nothing, it was just out of curiosity, and I’m really not looking to move to the states right now.” 

“Were you scared that I’d think you’d leave?”

“No, it was nothing like that, I just wanted to compare the number of jobs available, that’s all. I don’t want you to think that I was hiding something from you, I’d never do that.”

“Well…” I pause, “Do you think maybe you should even reach out to those companies for feedback? Even if you don’t apply to them, they might give you advice that would be helpful for the London jobs.”

“Well, yeah, I never thought about that. Maybe.”

“You know I just want you to be happy,” I say with a new tremor that seems to come from nowhere. “You’ll always do what’s best for you, right?”

“What’s best for me is to be with you,” He bends over to ease me into a long, dreamy kiss. “Didn’t we have a rule about discussing job applications? What was that you were saying earlier about my sexy parallel parking skills?”

“Oh I could go on and on,” I say. “I could probably write an essay about the muscles in your forearms, actually.”

“Interesting.”

“Do you want to hear some of the highlights?”

“Yeah, maybe later.” We kiss until we hear the TV switch off, and then, like teenagers we scamper apart, and he hurries downstairs to sleep on the couch. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[holylulusworld]

The Roommate (2) - Living together

Summary: You and John try to get used to each other.

Pairing: AU John Winchester x fem!Reader

Characters: Charlie Bradbury

Warnings: language, cocky John, flirty John, angst, a hint of mutual pining, mentions of sex, virgin reader

A/N: The idea for plot and some details came from @shooterere per request.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

The Roommate masterlist

“Doll, can you tell me how this crazy coffee machine works?” John looks at your coffee machine, furrowing his brows. “That monster doesn’t want to give me my coffee.”

“Oh, you must push the red button, choose the coffee you want, press the blue button, and put a cup there,” you explain, pointing at your coffee machine. “Let me do this, you can check on the toast meanwhile.”

“I like your toaster, it leaves a nice pattern on the toast,” laughing John looks at your toast. “Is that a kitten or a dog?”

“That’s Hello Kitty, Mr. Winchester, “you tut. “It was a gift from my friend Charlie. She was in Japan and bought it for me.”

“It’s cute, somehow,” John tries. “I never saw a pink toaster. What else can it do?”

“Only toast,” shrugging you get the coffee ready. “What are you doing for work? We talked about everything but your job.”

“I own a garage,” he lies, hiding he owns more than one. “My sons and my best friend work with me. I like to get my hands dirty once in a while. Sadly, I’m busy doing paperwork most of the time.”

“Sounds interesting. I work part-time at a library and study economics,” you say, snatching the toast out of John’s hands. “I’m usually home till eleven and can prepare dinner for us. I made a list of what we will need this week. You can add what you like to eat. Maybe you want a sixpack of beer too.”

“Give me the list and I’ll check if you forgot something,” John watches you pour him a cup of coffee, smirking as you ask him how he likes his coffee. “Black, doll. Like my soul.”

You giggle at his comment, give your cocky new roommate a wink before you usher toward the living room. “I got time left to have breakfast and to load the washer before I go to the grocery store. Do you have dirty clothes?”

“Only my underwear and a shirt,” he grins, stepping inside the living room to lazily lean in the door frame. “I don’t know if you want to wash an old man’s boxers.”

“You’re not that old,” you stuff the toast into your mouth before you say something you might regret. Yes, John is elder than you thought when you talked to him on the phone but there is something about the man that makes your heart flutter.  

“If you say so, doll,” John purrs the words, pushing off the door frame to sit next to you on the couch. “I’ll be out of your hair till six. Do you want to cook? I can grab a snack on my way if you don’t want to.”

“I got the day off, John. I will cook if you tell me what you like. Do you eat meat or are you vegan?”

“Fuck no,” John shudders, looking at you in disbelief. “I want meat. I love meat in any form, Y/N. Soft and juicy.” eyes glued to your thighs John licks his lips. “And I love to eat it too.”

“Mr. Winchester,” you gasp, slapping his chest. “Don’t say something like that.” giggling nervously you look up at John who grins wolfishly. He set his eyes on you and will be damned if he can’t sink his teeth into you sooner or later.

“It’s true, baby doll,” he husks, leaning closer. “I would kill for a steak or a good burger. How about I bring the wine?”

“I’m not into alcohol, but you can have some wine if you want to, John. I can put it on my list,” you say, glancing shyly at John.

“Nah, sweetie. You cook and take care of the groceries and I’ll bring the wine. Tell me how much I owe you for the food and groceries.”

“Beer, toast, eggs, milk,” looking at your list you cross out what you got. “Charlie, I need steak and apples.”

“So, how’s it going with Johnny boy?” Charlie smirks when you giggle nervously. “Babe, give me the juicy details. It’s been a week now. Tell me if you already fucked.”

“Charlie!” you tut, looking around the store to make sure no one heard what your friend said. “I did not sleep with John. He’s my roommate, okay. I don’t think it’s a good idea to hit on him and,” you sigh deeply, “even if I wanted to flirt with him, I’m not his type. I saw the pictures of his girlfriend on his phone. She looked like a supermodel.”

“Y/N, you’re hot, smart, and sexy. Don’t underestimate your value. I can tell, that guy almost ate you alive when he picked you up.”

“No, he didn’t, Charlie. Now let’s get the rest from my list and forget about John for a while. He’s a nice guy but not interested.”

“I bet he wants to do dirty things to you,” rolling your eyes at the quirky redheads’ words you follow her silently toward the next shelf. “Do you have condoms?”

“CHARLIE!”

“What? Better safe than sorry, babe. We will buy you a package of condoms and lube. Maybe some booze to loosen you up a little,” Charlie exclaims.

“I don’t want to be drunk when I finally have sex for the first time. And again, I don’t think a man like John would ever show interest in me. I saw him look at the pictures of his ex-girlfriend just yesterday. Maybe he even moves out again.”

“Doll, that smells amazing,” John licks his lips. His stomach grumbles and you laugh when he drops his jacket and bag to usher toward the table. “It looks even better.”

“I thought as you moved in and all we could celebrate a bit. I made steak, potatoes, and green beans. I got the beer for you and juice for me,” you explain, handing John a bottle of his favorite beer.

“Baby doll, that’s amazing,” John pecks your cheek, smirking when you don’t shy away. “Thank you, sweetie. That’s the best day since ages for me.”

“You’re welcome. I got you everything you put on the list too. I made space for your things in the fridge,” you explain where John can put his groceries and how much he must pay you for everything. “Let’s eat first, I don’t want the food to get cold.”

“Let’s get back to the rules. We already talked about the rooms you can use and the costs but,” biting your lower lip you try to gather the courage to talk to John about the women he will bring home.

“I get it, doll,” John smirks, sitting on the couch next to you. “You want to know if and when I will bring women to your home.”

“It’s your home now too, John,” you stutter. “I don’t want you to feel like a guest and I’m not a prude. I know men have needs and that you will find a girl sooner or later.”

“I’m not looking for a girl right now. The disaster with Sharon was worse enough, Y/N,” John watches you nervously tug at your sweater. “Except you want to become my girl,” he smirks, leaning closer to brush his fingertips over your hand. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“If we want this to work out we need more rules. A man like you would never be interested in me, I get it, but that’s no reason to make fun of me, John,” watching you storm out of the living room, angrily wiping your eyes John sighs deeply.

“Doll, I didn’t want to make fun of you,” he grumbles. “You’re sexy, so goddamn cute and I like you.” whispering the words John curses himself for being too pushy.

“Doll?” knocking on your door John sighs deeply. “Y/N, can I come in, sweetie. Listen, I’m sorry. If you get to know me better, you’ll know I’m flirty around pretty girls. I’m sorry if you got it wrong.”

“John, I’m not pretty,” you sniff, opening the door to your bedroom. “I know you try to be friendly and get in my good graces, but this is not necessary.”

“Y/N, this was not about getting in your good graces. You are a cute girl and I like you. Please let me make it up to you. How about I get us dessert and we watch a movie?”

“Oh-okay,” nodding you look at John who gives you a soft smile. “I like vanilla ice cream the most.”

“Vanilla, got it, sweetie. You can choose a movie while I get the ice cream. Do you want anything else?”

“Maybe some strawberry sauce,” you grin. “I like strawberries.”

“Noted, doll-“

“How was work?” watching another movie, the one John chose, you prefer to look at your roommate. He wanted to watch a horror movie and now the girls scream in terror. “Anything new?”

“I worked on a car today,” John says. “Bobby, my partner said we are ready to buy another garage.”

“Oh, that’s great – I guess,” you shrug. “The library called today and told me I’ll get fewer hours. Sucks. I worked there for four years and now there is that new girl and she gets more hours.”

“I’m sorry to hear, doll. Why not looking for another job?” stopping the movie to talk to you John frowns. “Hey, don’t cry, Y/N.” he says softly when you choke out a sob.

“It’s just, I finally could pay for everything. With my job, the part you pay, and the money from Mr. Talbot I had enough money.”

“Money from Mr. Talbot?” John asks.

“I help him with his papers, bookkeeping and everything else and he pays me a few bucks. You know, he’s eighty and got no one to help him,” you explain. “He was a good friend of my granny.”

“You got experience in bookkeeping?” nodding you tell John about your talent with numbers and that you love to work for Mr. Talbot. “You know, I could need help at my office. How about you give me a hand and work part-time for me and my partner?”

“John, I don’t need your pity. We shouldn’t live and work together,” you’d like to work for John but mixing work and your private life is a bad idea in your opinion.

“Y/N, I offered you a job to have someone at my office I can trust with my papers. Let’s talk about it with my partner Bobby, you’ll like the old geezer. He’s not as charming as I am but a good guy.”

“You want me to work for you?”  

“Sure, doll. Let’s watch the rest of the movie and tomorrow, you’ll come with me and we can talk to Bobby. I bet he’ll love you,” John grins, glancing at your cleavage. “Old geezer always had a thing for pretty girls like you…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@fallen-wolf22

@sister-winchesters99

@mogaruke

@the-is13

@helloitsmeamie203

@sandlee44

@strayrosesbloom

@notyourtypicalrose

@thewinchesterco

@marvelfansworld

@hobby27

@gh0stgurl

@flamencodiva

@jay-and-dean

@valsworldofcreativity

@h-o-l-l-i

@dayasvalkyrie

@wittysunflower

@supernaturalenchanted

@shikshinkwon

@yolobloggers

@hhiggs

@laxe-chester67

@ilovefanfic86

@linki-locks11

@eggingamazinglove

@trumpettay

@fandom-imagines1

@waywardbaby

@straycuties9

@drakelover78

@stuckys-whore

@zxph-yr

@i-love-superhero

@ten-tenya-iida

@deepmuffinspymaker

@katsav17

@heyitscam99

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@exo-nova

@echoesofpassion-blog-blog

@shatteredabby

@anaelsbrunette

@sea040561

@lemondropirwin

@lonewolf471

@wronglanemendes

@juniorhuntersam

@helpmeluci

@goodgodimaweirdperson

@shadowkat-83

@alltimesamantha

@officialmarvelwhore

@miraclesoflove

@maniacproffesor

@hollymac79

@kayla-2000-art-admirer

@gracefultrenchcoat494

@babygirls-fav

@spnwoman

@amiquette

@tornadochaserchick33

@geekofmanyforms

@jessica-marsh09

@spnficgirl

@shut-themoonscone

@thequeenreaders

@countrygal17a

@atomicfandombomb

@kteelou

@soryuwifeyxx

@defenderrosetyler

@shortwinchester

@maybesomedaygayyyy

@sabascio

@that-place-called-middle-earth

@bunnybaby89

@pandabiiissh

@maddiedott

@lilulo-12

@05supernatural20

@mblaqgi

@justsomedreaming

@cassiopeia-barrow

@its-the-timey-wimey-winchesters

@mscarter213

@jo-like-josette

@mep6811

@prettydeaneyes

@rvgrsbrns

@deanwanddamons

@tearsforhan

@waywardbabie

@certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel

@belovedcherry

@amandamdiehl

@sycochick

@abeautifuldiaster124

@matsumama

@rynabarnesrogers-reading

@homeorbust

@emoryhemsworth

@lunaticgurly

@spnbaby-67

@wonderlandfandomkingdom

@heartislubbingdubbing

@kitkatd7

@doctor-hp-mcu

@lovefromthewinchesters

@coffeebooksandfandom

@moosekateer13

@miss-nerd95

@caffeinefueledfangirl

@vicmc624

@mariaenchanted

@bxnnywriting

@lady-pswrld

@thinkaboutmara

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@suckmyapplejacks

@princesssterek

@lexy586

@notbrooklynsblog

@xoxabs88xox

@doozywoozy

@moshymosh

@soccer-100000

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

The roommate tags

@boogiewoogiebutt​;

[fruitcoops]

I love reading all your works and they put a smile on my face everytime I see them. Is there any chance you could do a whole Lupin family truth or drink (with or without Sirius is cool too) thanks

Hello anon! Thank you for your kind words--they mean more than you know <3 Jules isn’t included here because he’s 10 and the questions are not suited for 10-year-olds, but this was so much fun to write all the same! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for alcohol and mentions of sex

“We’re back!” Marlene announced with a smile as she set up an unlabeled bottle on the table, along with three shot glasses. “And today, we’re doing something a little different with truth or drink. Loops, do you want to do the intros?”

Remus waved at the camera. “Hey, Lions, I’m Remus Lupin and these are my parents, Hope and Lyall.” He frowned and looked over at Marlene. “You toned down the questions, right? These are PG?”

“Nope!” she said cheerfully as she took her place behind the camera. “Take it away, Hope, it’s good to have you back!”

“It’s good to be back!” she said, smiling. “I had so much fun last time. Alright, Loops, describe your first kiss.”

He shook his head with a laugh. “It’s so weird hearing you call me that. Uh, I was seventeen and I kissed Ellie Sanders from down the street during her birthday party for a game of truth or dare.”

“Seventeen? I was expecting earlier, to be honest,” Lyall said as he took a card. “Hope, darling, have you ever been arrested?”

She reached for her shot glass and Remus’ jaw fell open. “What?”

“Well, I guess I have to answer it now,” she sighed. “Sweetheart, I grew up in the seventies and eighties, and your father and I met during a protest. This should not surprise you.”

“We can drink at any time, right?” Remus asked Marlene before taking a shot and drawing a card. “I could answer this one. Was I an accident?”

“Yes,” the three of them said at the same time.

“I was 21, he was 23, we had been married for three months and were not planning on having kids for at least six years,” Hope explained. She reached over and took Remus’ hand. “But you were the best accident. Okay, my turn. Have you ever had sex in my house?”

“I knew that kind of question was coming up,” Remus muttered. “No, I have not, and I don’t plan on ever doing it. My childhood bedroom is literally the least sexy place I can think of.”

“I don’t know, those plaid sheets and wall-to-wall bookshelves are really something, “ Lyall teased as he took a card. Remus rolled his eyes. “In a similar vein: when did you lose your virginity, and did you use protection?”

“Again, I was seventeen, and I did use protection because I knew I was gay at that point and didn’t want to risk anything.” Remus ran a hand down his face. “Ugh, this was not how I thought my day was going to go.”

“Was it the same night as your first kiss?” Hope gasped when he nodded. “Look at you go!”

“Oh my god, mom.” Remus picked a new card. “Ha! This should be interesting. Who’s your favorite child? Both of you have to answer.”

Hope drummed her fingers on her knees and Lyall bit his lip. “I love you for different reasons,” he finally said. “Jules is more cuddly and outgoing than you, but you actually have an off-switch and you’re a very kind person. Yeah, it’s an even split.”

“I can’t choose,” Hope said, tapping the edge of her card on the table. “You’re my boys and I love you. That’s all that matters. Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes, I have.” A soft smile tilted the edge of Remus’ lips up and he glanced behind the camera.

“Who are you looking at?” Marlene asked. “The viewers can’t see back here.”

“Oh! Sorry. My fiancé is on a bench by the wall with the car keys.” All three of them waved to Sirius. “Alright, dad, you’re up.”

“Which parent do you like more?” He mock-frowned at Remus. “I hope you know our future relationship directly depends on your answer to this single question from a drinking game on a Wednesday afternoon.”

“Just for that, I’m choosing mom,” Remus said, laughing when Lyall cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. “In all honesty, I don’t have a favorite. Like you said earlier, I love you both for different reasons.”

“What reasons?” Hope asked.

“Dad, you taught me to cook and got me into hockey, but mom encouraged me to stick with PT and always goes the extra mile.” He rolled his shot glass between his fingers for a moment. “I just know that I’m really lucky to have you both in my life, because you’ve been nothing but supportive.”

Hope dabbed at her eye with the sleeve of her sweater and Lyall took a deep breath. “Whew. Okay. Please ask something super awkward,” he said.

“I’ll do my best,” Remus laughed. His smile turned into a grimace when he read the card and he rested his forehead on the table.

Hope nudged him with her elbow. “What, are you going to chicken out this late in the game? We don’t raise wusses in the Lupin family.”

“You have to ask it,” Marlene called.

Remus sat up and shook his shoulders out. “Dad, have you—I am begging you to drink—have you ever performed oral sex on mom?”

“Performed?” Lyall snorted. “What is this, the circus?”

Remus handed him the bottle. “Please drink.”

Lyall poured himself a shot and drank it; just as Remus was starting to look mildly relieved again, he grinned. “Yes, I have.”

“Damn it.” Remus covered his face with his hands. “I should have known you would answer anyway. Jesus. I need to sear that from my brain.”

Hope took her next card and slid the bottle to Remus. “What’s your favorite sexual position? I really don’t need to know this, sweetheart.”

“No, you certainly do not!” Remus said brightly, drinking his shot. “In fact, I’m glad you don’t want to.”

Lyall cleared his throat and took a card. “What’s something I do that embarrasses you?”

“This game is rigged to give all the loaded questions to you,” Remus laughed. “You need to figure out what you want for gifts. You always say you want nothing, and then the day after Christmas you’re pining after something you never told people you wanted.”

“I do not,” Lyall scoffed. Remus and Hope shared a look and his eyes widened. “Hey!”

“Okay, my turn.” Remus’ eyebrows rose when he read the card. “When I moved out, were you relieved or sad?”

“Oh, shit,” Hope murmured with a sniffle. “I’m already crying. Both. There was a little bit of both.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The first move only happened for a little while when you went to college, but you moved back after the accident and that was…tough.”

“It was easy letting you go the first time,” Lyall said, softer than he had been yet. “You were ready then. The second time, we were so worried and also so proud of you for everything you had worked for.”

Remus scrunched his nose up and let out a shaky breath, leaning their temples together. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Hope whispered. Lyall ruffled his hair. She coughed lightly and took a new card. “Please be something uncomfortably sexual. Ah, bummer. If someone offered you $10,000 dollars to never talk to me again, would you do it?”

Remus snorted. “No.”

“What about $100,000?”

“Nope.”

“A million?”

“Is this an auction?”

“If someone gave you ten million dollars to never speak to me again, would you take it?”

“Holy shit, mom!” he laughed. “Do you want me to stop talking to you? Is this a hint?”

“We did good,” she said, giving her husband a high-five.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Would you guys stop talking to me for ten million dollars?”

“No, never,” Lyall assured him before turning and winking at the camera. Remus groaned. “Our minds have traded bodies—“

“They have? That explains a lot.”

“Shush. If our minds traded bodies, what is the first thing you would do in my body?”

“No offense, but I would run as far away from mom as humanly possible. We are not having any Oedipus moments in this household. The second thing I would do is reach things on the high shelves of my house, because even though I’m five foot eleven, my six foot three fiancé insists on putting things just slightly out of reach.” Remus craned his neck to see behind the camera. “Yes, I’m talking about you. Stop laughing!”

“You don’t think the aforementioned fiancé would be curious as to why your dad was suddenly on the front doorstep?”

“I would hope you would explain what was going on when you woke up in my body.” When Lyall didn’t answer, Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dad. If we switch bodies, I need you to promise me you won’t sleep with my fiancé.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“You’re not even into men!”

“How do you know?” He burst out laughing at Remus’ shocked expression. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. The first thing I would do is go skating, because I bet your knees don’t hurt after ten minutes. Then I would go to the dentist, because I know you’re bad about scheduling your appointments.”

“He’s right!” A distant voice called.

Remus gave Marlene a disbelieving look as he drew a card. “Is this turning into Remus Lupin Callout Hour? Alright, if you could change one thing about me, what would it be?”

“Scheduling skills,” Lyall answered immediately.

“Answering phone calls,” Hope added.

Remus seemed surprised by her answer. “You told Sirius you didn’t like it when he got into fights on the ice. I was expecting the same here.”

She shrugged. “It’s kind of neat, seeing my kid get in a rumble out there. I’m very proud of you. Less proud when you start bleeding, but that’s only because you have a very nice nose and straight teeth.”

“You heard it here first, folks,” Remus said to the camera. “My mother worries more about my nose and my teeth that the fact that I’m getting beaten up.”

“I think that’s the last question,” Marlene said with a laugh. “How are you all feeling?”

“I feel fantastic,” Lyall answered.

“I know far too much about my parents’ sex life.”

“It was one question,” Hope scoffed. “I feel wonderful, for your information. These are always such fun.”

“Should we ask Jules to come next time?” Marlene asked.

“Seeing as he’s ten and knows way too many embarrassing stories about me, absolutely not,” Remus said.

“We could give him apple juice, he’d have a good time,” Hope shrugged. “I would not oppose it.”

“You’re famous now, Loops.” Lyall grinned. “The tabloids would love having your baby brother as a gold mine of information.”

“Can I sign us off?” he asked Marlene. “Please tell me I can sign us off. I need to leave, like, five minutes ago.”

“You’re depriving me of content, Re!”

“Hey, hockey fans, thanks for tuning in to Lion Pride’s Truth or Drink! I’m Remus Lupin, these are my parents, and we hope you have a great day.”

[hognosesnakehalloweenfest]

Oct 1: A Season for Spirits

By HognoseSnake (@snakeHognose on twitter, Hognose Snake on AO3)

It had been hard going, in the thin daylight of late-September. These were days of the lengthening nights, days that turned his breath to mist, days hostile to long journeys.

The young man had managed to find his way to the forest, just as the sun was setting. The shadows stretched out long in front of him, the light starting to dim. It had been hard going. He had hoped to find his way to a village for the night.

He raked a hand through his unruly hair and heaved a sigh, a cloud of breath lazily snaking its way into the air. He had no lantern -  he’d left it at Liledal, lost it in a drunken game of cards. To be out in the open air on days like this-

(On nights like this, dark nights, cold night, in places like this at the edge of these woods-)

He took another deep breath and paused. Woodsmoke. Smooth and rugged. He glanced around again and saw a pinprick of light emanating from the distance, glowing in the early evening.

It seemed worth a try.

He set off, down the gentle slope he’d found himself on, towards the house. Smoke was rising from the chimney. Someone was home.

(Who would want to live here, at the edge of the woods, at the edge of these woods, alone with nobody around for miles-)

It was a small, squat cottage. The walls were a bright, cheerful white, nearly dazzling him with the reflection of the setting sun. The door was rounded at the top, the wood thick and smooth and shining in the early evening light. Thin tendrils of smoke slithered up from the squat chimney, just visible from the worn, well swept doorway. There was a window box, the flowers no longer in bloom, and thick windows that warped the shapes of whatever lay within.

Just above the entryway was the lantern, glowing gently, providing the little spot of light that had caught his eye from all that way away. He rested his hand on the rough cottage walls, testing to see if it was there, if it was really there-

(He’d heard stories about these woods, and not just the good ones, not just the ones that he had followed all this way, he’d heard of the hungry lonely broken things that lurked in the shadows of this forest, waiting, waiting, waiting for him-)

He knocked. He heard the muffled sounds of someone rising, making their way over to the door. It slowly creaked open, the first few gusts of warmth creeping out and laying flat against his skin.

The woman in the doorway was old, her face lined with deep grooves. Her hair fell in limp, grey strands about her shoulders. Her hands were old and gnarled, knotted like the roots of a tree, the skin thick like scales. She was a head shorter than him, and looked up with milky eyes that didn’t quite fix onto his face.

“Hello?” she croaked, and her voice was like woodsmoke too.

The young man took off his hat, distantly remembering his manners. “Sorry to trouble you,” he said, mustering up the charming smile that had gotten him out of a dozen half-paid debts.

The old woman hummed. Go on, then.

“I’m travelling east, see, but I must have made a mistake and gotten myself stranded halfway between towns,” he said, as apologetically as he could. “It’s awful embarrassing. I don’t suppose you’d mind me staying the night?”

The old woman stared up in his direction, not quite at him, not quite at the darkening sky behind him.

“Come in,” she said, after a long pause. “I’ve not got anything worth stealing anyway.”

It sounded like a joke, so the young man laughed. She opened the door a little wider and gestured for him to come in.

The room was warm and homely. A fire crackled loudly in its place, sputtering as the old woman threw another log onto the fire. Firewood, he noted. Split firewood. Someone must care about her, then.

The rug beneath his feet was faded but clean, and the table was laid, and there was the warm smell of porridge emanating from a pot hung over the fire. She paused to stir it a few times.

“You’ll want dinner?” she asked over her shoulder. The young man settled on a chair at the table.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he said. She hummed again, before steadily making her way back to the spinning wheel. With a great effort she settled herself back on her chair, spinning her yarn from a small pile of fibres next to her.

“What brings you east?” she asked, glancing up in his direction again. The young man eased the pack from his shoulders.

“Visiting a friend,” he said absently. The lie he’d told a thousand times over fell easily from his lips.

The spinning slowed slightly. “Where?”

“Arabay.”

“And where’re you from?”

“Shanshannon.”

The spinning returned to its usual speed. “Long way.”

“I suppose.”

“What drew your friend to Arabay, then?”

She was asking a lot of questions. “Work.”

“For who?”

“A farmer?”

“You sound unsure.”

“We weren’t close.”

“Long way to go for someone you’re not close with.”

“I-“

“Stop,” she said, and her voice was harsh, firm. Steady. “Enough lying. What brings you east?”

There was a long silence, the only sound the gentle creaking and whooshing of the spinning wheel.

“You know,” he said eventually, even though his heart was racing, even though he felt like he was about to start trembling in every bone of his body. “You know.”

The spinning slowed, stopped. She looked up towards him again.

“You’re here for the forest, aren’t you?” she asked. Her voice was thin and small and husky again.

The young man nodded. She huffed and went back to spinning.

“Is that so wrong?” he asked, and tried to sound confrontational.

(Tried to hide the shake in his voice.)

“A hundred men before you have walked into that forest looking for their heart’s desire. I have seen none return,” she said evenly, focused on the yarn between her hands.

“I’ll be the lucky hundred and first, then,” he said, crossing his arms. He felt petulant, childlike.

“Tell yourself that,” she muttered, “if it makes you feel better.”

“Please,” he scoffed, feeling himself again (and also quite rude), “they must have found another way out. Or been stupid enough to not notice they were wandering into a wolf’s territory.”

“So you don’t think there is anything to fear?” she asked, glancing in his direction, briefly. The spinning quickened. “You believe there is nothing in the forest beyond your comprehension.”

“Of course not.”

“And yet you search for it, don’t you?” Again, the spinning quickened. “The heart of the forest, the beating heart that will offer you untold riches. Or is it a loved one back from the dead? Or a life unbothered by sickness? There are so many stories out there I cannot possibly guess which it is you are chasing.”

“All of them! None of them!” he snapped, glaring at her. “What is it to you?”

“Your journey is nothing to me,” she snapped back, and he distantly wondered why it was he was sitting here, arguing with a woman in her eighties, and why it was his heart was racing in his chest. The spinning kept quickening. “Your journey is nothing, and your life is nothing as well. I am telling you to leave. Go back to Shanshannon a failure. It is better than not returning at all.”

“You dumb bitch,” he hissed, “how can you possibly believe that? At your age, believing ghost stories for children! You can’t think I’d believe that you really think any of this nonsense, can you? When you live out here, in the middle of nowhere, all alone. It can’t be that dangerous, if someone as frail as you has survived this whole time!”

The spinning came to a sudden halt and her head snapped up to look at him.

(To look at him.)

“Listen carefully,” she said, her voice quiet, steady, flickering in the light of the fire “I will say this only once. Tomorrow, it is October, and with it come the days of the lengthening nights, the days that turn your breath to mist, days hostile to long journeys. Now are the days of bonfire evenings, appleyard harvests, carving gruesome visages into gourds and setting them as sentinels outside your door.”

“Whilst children dress as monsters and beg for sweets, their parents watch the shapes of the shadows and wait. They lock their doors and keep the candles burning long throughout the night and wait. They say their prayers and cross their hearts and wait for the sounds of the parade they’ll join in their time.”

“Now is the season for spirits, boy, when things benign and cruel and kind and hungry seep forth from the night. They are waiting, too. For whatever fool has deluded himself into thinking he is walking on virgin ground. For whoever is so arrogant he can ignore the pricking of a hundred eyes on his skin. For the hundred and first young man to think he is deserving for whatever is at the heart of the forest, to wander in and convince himself that he is alone.”

She grinned, her gaze clear on his face, and everything about her was sharp. In the flickering light of the fire, in the gathering dark outside, he swore her smile held to many teeth.

“It is October now, boy. I am never alone, here. Neither are you.”

After a long pause, the spinning resumed. The young man tried to work out why his heart was beating so thick and heavy in his chest.

“The porridge is done,” she said, her voice thin and wispy again in the quiet, homely room. “I’ll make up the spare bed for you.”

 ----

In the morning, the young man woke up in the ruins of a house. Where the spinning wheel had sat, the roof had caved in. The fireplace was ancient, filled with soot and dust. He sat up, hearing the rotting wood of a bedframe creek ominously underneath him, and he flung the mouldy, damp quilt off him in disgust.

His pack and boots were exactly where he’d left them the night before. He’d tidily put them away, leaning them against the doorframe. Now, the door was hanging off its hinges, warped with a hundred years of weather.

He put his feet into his boots and cautiously pushed the door open. He glanced up – the lantern was smashed to pieces. He wasn’t sure what he expected.

He pushed the door a little further and tried not to jump back in surprise. Where yesterday the door had opened to rolling hills and wide open fields, he now found himself mere inches from an enormous oak tree. He craned his neck but couldn’t quite see the top of it – just the endless stretch of tree trunk reaching up into the sky.

Edging around it didn’t prove much more encouraging. Just another enormous tree, the grass beneath his feet thick and long and overgrown.

This was it, the forest. He paid no mind to how he came here, how the cottage had aged a hundred years overnight, or how he now awoke in the thick of it. He took a steadying breath, and headed deeper in.

Alone.

(Except for the hundreds of eyes he felt on his back, watching, waiting, waiting.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hognose Snake is a 23 year old who likes doing things such as burrying herself in soft dirt, eating toads, and writing fanfic. Best known for Green & Gold, she is the founder and primary organizer for the Halloween festival.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Noona, Do You Have a Boyfriend? | Final Part

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 8.2k

Summary: Convinced that you’re bad for his friend, Minho lashes out at you, leaving you even more hurt and confused than you already were. 

Warnings: femdom, sub!jisung, sub!minho, dom!reader, slapping, degradation, bratty!minho, kinda virgin!minho, he never had his ass fucked before lol, threesome, voyeurism, lots of dirty talk as per usual, cumplay, cum and drool all over, minho getting broken, but like it’s all consensual, and the reader is attentive, even though she wants to punch him, minor aftercare, jealous!jisung, deep-throating, pegging, fingering, minho is a mess, this fic is a mess, and I gave up proof-reading it so yes

You miss Jisung.

He’s been avoiding you ever since your movie night, hurt by your rejection. You wanted to respect his decision, you really did, but you feel like shit not being able to see his smile every single day like you used to. It was like your morning cup of coffee; sure, you could survive without it, but then you’d be dull and lifeless the whole day and what’s the point in that? You miss hearing him laugh, his adorable little giggles, so boyish and carefree, they make whatever was troubling you seem trivial. He never smiles at you anymore… and your days have been significantly less bright for it. The only thing that breaks the ominous gloom that has taken over your life are the ripples of lightning that flash in his eyes whenever your eyes accidentally meet, the pain still fresh in his mind.

You’re at your wit’s end by now. Even if it’s selfish, you’ve decided that you’re not gonna take this any longer; you’re gonna go to him. To say or do what? You don’t know. All you know is that you can’t take being without him any longer.

With each step you take towards him, your world gets a little brighter, a sliver of sunlight shining through the dark grey clouds. You feel good about this. You can almost feel the warmth seeping through your skin…but then a terrible storm comes between you, blocking the heavens out of sight.

Minho appears out of nowhere—or maybe he had been there all along, and you just hadn’t noticed, too busy staring at your sunshine boy. He grabs you without a word, and drags you away.

“What are you doing?” You panic, whipping your head around you to see a confused Jisung watching Minho lead you out of the practice room.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t.” He cautions as soon as you’re out of earshot, dark and unforgiving. “I’ve just barely gotten him to stop moping around because of you. I won’t let you destroy all the progress we’ve made so back off and let him move on.”

Oh. So apparently you weren’t that slick about your intentions. Minho must’ve noticed the longing glances you’ve been throwing at Jisung and the way you’ve been hovering around lately, nervous and trying to build up the courage to talk to him, something that Minho seems intent on preventing.

“Shouldn’t he be the one who decides if he wants to move on or not?” You bristle, feeling threatened by the boy who wants to take your sunshine away. You could feel your heart shrivel up at the thought that Jisung could move on from you so quickly. That—if it were up to Minho—another could be basking in the warmth that is him while you’re left behind, the only thing keeping you company is the memory of the sunlight on your skin.

Why does Minho want to hurt you like that? What did you do to him to deserve something so cruel?

“You know he won’t. He’s too sweet for his own good and that’s what you’re counting on, isn’t it?”

“Why are you talking to me like it’s my plan to hurt him? I care about him, believe it or not.”

“I don’t. Not after I’ve watched him bend over backwards to get you to like him when you’ve been nothing but a frigid bitch to him.”

“So you just expect me to reciprocate the attention of anyone who shows interest in me? Don’t I have the right to think about it? Matter of fact, have you ever considered that it’s his eagerness that put me off in the first place? Not everyone has their feelings on eleven, and some of us need some time before we can let someone in.”

“So what, you’re saying you like him now?” He sneers flippantly, mocking you.

“Maybe I do.” You mutter, fidgeting under his accusatory gaze.

“Maybe is not good enough. You said it yourself, Jisung feels too much. When he loves someone, he gives them his all, and he needs someone who can give their all to him as well, and let’s not kid ourselves, that person isn’t you. If you really cared about him then you’ll stay away from him. He can get over you if you back off now, but if you let him get too involved then decide you can’t handle him after all, it would crush him.”

“What if he hurts me? Why do you assume that I’d be the bad guy here?”

“Frankly, I don’t care if he hurts you. He’s my friend. He’s the one I care about.”

“Wow, thanks—”

“I’m serious.” He cuts you off, not caring to hear what you have to say. “Don’t fuck with my members. They’re my family. You don’t deserve him so just step aside and let him find someone who can love him like he needs.”

“I get it. You don’t like me. You don’t have to be such an asshole about it.” You retort, trying to act like his flippantly cruel comment hadn’t cut you up inside, but the mirthless chuckle doesn’t make it past your constricting throat and your eyes fill up with tears that you refuse to shed in his presence.

“I’m gonna… yeah.” You spin on your heel just before the first droplets break off, and scurry away.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Waking up with a groan, you blindly throw your arm out from under the blanket and feel for the source of the noise that had ripped you away from your slumber at this undoubtedly ungodly hour. When your hand encounters the loathsome object, you bring it to your ear and answer it without even checking to see who was calling—and not caring to in your enthusiasm to curse them off for waking you up.

“I swear to god if this is not about someone dying—”

“Noona…” You almost miss the small voice over your own anger, stopping you in your tracks. You shoot up, all sleep suddenly leaving your eyes as you clutch the phone in both hands as if you can physically keep the other person on the line that way.

“Han?!”

“Did I wake you up, noona?” He asks dumbly, but your anger was suddenly nowhere to be found.

“No, nooo, I was already up…getting some water.” You wince at your stupid lie. It was obvious he’d woken you up. A quick glance at the clock tells you it’s three in the morning and your voice sounds like that of an eighty year-old man suffering from chronic lung disease, but you’re not about to tell him that. Shaking your head, you try to brush off the stupid. “Anyway, what’s up?”

What’s up? Apparently the stupid was more deeply ingrained than you thought.

“Oh, I… umm, I’m in the studio and I’ve been working on this song that… is just kicking my ass, you know? And…um,” He trails off into an awkward silence, the likes of which you haven’t experienced since middle school.

Was he waiting for you to finish his thought? You hope not because you had no idea where he was going with this. Was he looking for a pep talk or something? Oh god, what were you supposed to tell him? You weren’t prepared for this.

A frustrated sigh cuts off your panicked musings.

“I’ve told you before how you’ve been like a…a muse to me—oh god, that sounds so dumb and cheesy but it’s true, and without you around it’s just—”

Another deep sigh and a long pause. You can practically feel him telepathically willing you to understand what he needs but you were slow from sleep and your ability to figure out what he wanted without using words had gone rusty from disuse.

Still, the silence was suffocating so you decide to take a shot in the dark. “Do… do you want phone sex?”

“No! What? No!” He squeaks in that adorable panicked voice of his and despite the weird situation, it puts a smile on your face.

“Can you just come to the studio?” He ventures wearily, “Not to hook up or anything! I think I just… need you near me.”

You gasp at his confession. You’ve only dared to wish for something like this in your dreams, the time and distance that grew larger between you with each passing day having all but left you hopeless that he’d want you back.

Misinterpreting your reaction, he hurries to apologize, “I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to ask and you probably don’t want to see me—”

“It’s not!” You cut him off, scared he’d hang up before you even had a chance to speak for yourself. “I want to see you, Han. I’ll be there soon.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

The big studio feels suffocatingly small with just the two of you inside, all the baggage you two have been carrying over the months taking up too much space for you to comfortably breathe. You needed to cast them away but you’re not sure how.

“So…what are you working on?” You valiantly, and awkwardly, break the loaded silence, startling Jisung as if he hadn’t expected to hear you speak.

Clearing his throat, he turns towards the control board and fumbles with the buttons. “Let me show you.”

He gives you no further instruction so you just stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before going ahead and grabbing one of the extra chairs and pulling it up to sit beside him.

“This is the song I told you about.”

As the song starts playing, he stares ahead, chewing on his bottom lip and not checking to see your reaction. When his voice comes on, he blushes a little. “This is just the demo. The finished version will have a much better vocalist like Woojin-hyung or Seungminnie to sing it.”

“I like your voice, Han.” You answer without thinking, but it’s true. Jisung may not be the main vocalist but you like the tone of his voice regardless. “I think it’s, um, sweet.

“You don’t have to flatter me, noona.”

“I’m not.” Your firm tone makes his eyes automatically look over to you. “I like it, ok?”

“Ok.” He bites his lips and looks straight ahead once again.

When the song finishes, he asks for your opinion.

“I like it…” You start, hesitating.

“But?”

“But I feel like it’s missing something.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” He exclaims, pressing his fingers against his temples in frustration. “But I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is.”

“I don’t know.” You mumble, stressed that he’s looking at you like he expects you to have an answer. “You’re the producer.”

“I know. I’m just frustrated and tired.” He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, “I’ve been working on it for so long but it’s still not right.”

“Why don’t you take a little break? Maybe it’s not working out because you’re forcing it.” You suggest.

“A break? Like do nothing?” He cocks his head at you, a little confused frown on his face as he considers your words, seeming as if the thought had never crossed his mind before.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, ok.” He blinks and leans back in his chair, his frown intensifying as if he’s hearing about the concept of relaxation for the first time in his life.

As cute as he looks right now—and he looks gosh darn cute with that kissable pout on his lips and the way he had tugged his legs against his chest, looking so tiny—you realize that you need to distract him before his mind goes haywire from overthinking.

“Or you could show me some of your other work?”

His eyes snap up to you, wide and excited at the proposition. “You wanna hear more of my stuff?”

You smile gently at him, assuring him that, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

The awkwardness dissipates soon after that, as he—at first self-consciously, and then proudly—shows off his work to you, swelling up with each word of praise you profess to him, and you, in turn, swell up with a special kind of pride you’ve never felt for anyone before, a feeling that made you want to proclaim to the world that ‘Yeah, that’s my baby, right there. Isn’t he wonderful?’

You’ve always known that Jisung was gifted, but to get to see him in his element like this, his talent in its rawest form, was an experience you never knew you needed. He was so passionate and genuine about his work, it honestly made you a little teary-eyed.

“Wow, you’re really good at this stuff.” You conclude stupidly, having spent a couple of hours in the studio by now, just listening to some of his tracks and discussing where he wanted to take his music and what he wants to tell through it. You felt woefully under-prepared to even be a passive party in such a technical discussion, but Jisung insisted that talking to you helped him sort out his thoughts and come up with a bunch of ideas on how he might fix that track that has been causing him trouble.

“Thank you, noona.” The sweet boy blushes despite your less than graceful compliment. “I actually thought that maybe I could become a producer if this whole idol thing hadn’t worked out.”

“You’d be an amazing producer! Actually, whatever you would’ve chosen to do, I know you would’ve been amazing at it.” You gush with conviction. Maybe you were biased but you just know that your sunshine boy was talented enough to succeed at whatever his beautiful heart desired.

And through your stormy world, the sun shyly peeks behind the clouds as he smiles at you. Not just any smile, your smile, the one you’ve been aching for all this time, and you can’t help but stare, enraptured by it like a second sun had appeared in the sky.

But before you could soak up the light, it gets eclipsed by the gloom once again.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jisung whispers, hunched over with his arms resting on his thighs, his gaze set on his twiddling fingers, avoiding your own.

“What?” You blink, the remnants of the light scattering from your eyes.

“I thought that maybe you’d miss me like I was missing you… but I guess you were right about me being dumb.”

“You’re not dumb!” You shoot out of your seat and stand over him, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “I did! I missed you so much!”

“But you never tried to contact me.” He breathes you in, and for a second, he gets lost in all that you are—your smell, the light in your eyes, the warmth of your hands, all the things that he had missed so dearly. He’s so busy soaking it all up that it startles him when your hands fall from his face to swing limply at your sides, breaking the spell.

“I did try but…”

“But what?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you recall what Minho had said. You don’t deserve him. His words rang in your ears like thunder, feeling truer now than they ever did after what you’ve witnessed today.

“Nothing.” You shake your head, embarrassed to admit the truth. You’ve never been this unsure of yourself. Not because of Minho—he could go fuck himself as far as you were concerned. But this was the first time you’ve been so completely enamored with someone like this. People tend to inflate their lover’s worth and you were no exception; to you, Jisung deserves the best, and you feared that you weren’t that.

Reclaiming your hands, he tugs on them gently, pulling you onto his lap. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Despite the firm grip he has on your hands, his soft glittery eyes give him away. He was begging you to say something that would assuage his pain, to prove to him that you wanted this as much as he did and that the delay had been out of your hands.

You could do that. You could give him that much.

“Minho told me to stay away.” You confess, heart heavy and fearful that the words would be like a wake-up call to him, and he would realize that he deserved better after all. “He said that you deserve someone who could love you as much as you love them and that I’m not that person.”

At the uncharacteristically livid look on Jisung’s face, your anxious mind bungee jumps to conclusions, figuring that he must think that you’re lying to set his best friend up. You don’t even realize that you’ve started crying until you feel Jisung’s fumbling fingers wiping at your cheeks, trying to keep the tears at bay,

“Oh my god, don’t cry. Please don’t cry, noona. I’m going to kill him for doing this to you. I swear I will.” It would be a hard feat to take any death threat from Jisung seriously, but it’s even harder to when panic dilutes any edge his anger may have had. “Wait… is that why he pulled you out of the practice room that one time?”

You nod, pouting childishly as you remember the incident.

“That fucker! He told me that you were just trying to hook up with me and that’s why he stopped you!” He fumes, but yet again, his anger is quickly cut off by doubt and insecurity, “…you didn’t only want to hook up, right?” He asks, unsure.

“No!” You yell, frustrated beyond belief by how unnecessary all this heartache was, all because of his bitch of a friend. “Would I be here in the middle of the night, listening to your dumb songs for hours if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“Hey! My songs aren— wait, you have feelings for me?”

“Do you think I sing A Whole New World with just any random dude?”

He bites his lip and tries to suppress his smile, but that only emphasizes his squirrel teeth, making you curse as you feel your heart leaping in your chest. Fuck, so cute.

You realize that you’ve said that out loud when he blushes and smacks your shoulder playfully, his teeth untangling from his lip to let his smile grow wide and unrestrained. “I want to hear you say it.”

You roll your eyes, “I like you, you dumbass.”

You had hardly finished saying it before you’re pulled into an enthusiastic kiss. “Then forget about what my dumb hyung said.”

“But what if he’s right? What if I can’t love you enough?” You fret, still unsure.

“Impossible. With just one call, you come running here, leaving your cozy bed behind to listen to my dumb songs without even the slightest prospect of getting dicked down? You’re whipped, noona.”

You smack him playfully, and yet you still can’t quite let it go. “What if I hurt you?”

“Isn’t that how all relationships go? Either you stay together or you break up.”

“You’re being super wise right now, it’s disturbing.” You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and smothering him with chaste little kisses.

Impatient, he grabs your face and captures your lips in a real kiss. “You’d be surprised what my brain is capable of when not all my blood is flowing to my boner.”

You throw your head back laughing, finally starting to feel like things are going to be okay for the first time in a long time. “I love you my dumb, wise baby…”

“Oh, and Minho will pay for this.”

Jisung buries his face in your neck, chuckling lightly. “I’m already on it, babe.”  

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Checking your phone, you take note of the time; Ten thirty. That means you had kept them waiting for almost 20 minutes now.

This was all part of Jisung’s plan to make his hyung “atone” for trying to sabotage your relationship—bringing him into your bedroom so you can fuck him up like he almost fucked you guys up, and if that happened to also satisfy his long-held fantasy of getting to see you fuck another guy in front of him... Well that was just the cherry on top for him, or so he claimed.

You knew just how thirsty he was for this, the weeks leading up to tonight filled with a whiny, impatient Jisung pestering you about why he can’t just bring Minho over already and accusing you of prolonging his wait just to torture him. And maybe you did, but it’s nothing he can prove.

Deciding to finally have mercy on him, you give yourself one last look in the mirror to make sure nothing was out of place and that the red robe you wore covered your bare body properly before you head out of the bathroom door and step out into your bedroom.

Immediately, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the scene in front of you.

Minho had your boyfriend pinned under him on the bed, both their clothes in a pile on the floor and their dick rubbing against each other as Minho grinded down on him.

Small moans escaped Jisung as he struggled against the hold Minho had on his arms, pinning them against the bed as he devoured the younger boy’s neck. You haven’t even started yet and they were already misbehaving. You had told them clearly to not touch each other while you were getting ready but apparently you should’ve never trusted these two.

Whatever, you’ll teach them to not disobey you again.

Taking your phone out of the robe’s pocket, you open the app that controls the plug you had put inside Jisung’s ass earlier and turn it on, causing the boy to suddenly yelp out and whip his head towards the bathroom door where you stand, freaking out when his eyes land on your unimpressed face.

“I tried to stop him, noona.” He attempts to justify his actions but you shush him, walking further into the room. “Sure, you did, brat. You know, I’m doing this whole thing to satisfy your sick fantasy, right? And yet you can’t even follow one simple instruction, can you?”

You turn the speed up a notch, making Jisung jolt a little in Minho’s grasp. “Ah, fuck, noona! I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” You turn it up even higher.

Curious as to what’s happening, Minho pushes off the boy, cocking his head to the side as he takes a second to realize what has suddenly gotten the younger boy so riled up. His suspicions are confirmed when he pulls Jisung’s thighs apart to see the diamond-shaped bottom of the plug glimmering between his cheeks. Pressing on it, he pushes the part that had slipped out because of Jisung’s squirming back in, making the boy gasp and his fingers clutch at the sheet desperately.

“Hmm, cute. So this is what Jisungie has to make do with. How sad.” He sneers, fucking the toy in and out of him a few time before taking it out and throwing it to the ground at your feet. “It must kill you, that you don’t have a real cock to fuck him with, right?”

“But I do have one.” You retort easily, not missing a beat, and he frowns at you in confusion, flinching just a bit when you reach a hand out towards him. But he doesn’t stop you as your hand wraps around his hard dick and gives it a sharp stroke that has him involuntarily thrusting forward in your fist.

“It’s right here. As long as you’re in my bed, every part of you belongs to me.” You drawl, continuing to languidly stroke him. “Even your pretty little dick.”

Taking your hand off his again, you don’t miss the quiet hiss he lets out at the loss of stimulation. “Now fuck him well and don’t you dare disappoint me.” You deadpan, sitting down on the bed in front of them and looking at them expectantly.

Turning to Jisung with misplaced anger, he manhandles the poor boy, flipping him onto his stomach then grabbing him by the hips to push his ass in the air, allowing him to easily line up his dick with your boyfriend’s stretched out hole. He looks you right in the eyes as he orders him, “Beg for it, baby boy. Beg me to ram my cock inside you and fuck you like she can’t.”

Jisung hesitates and you can see the conflict on his face as he contemplates whether to obey Minho and piss you off or not obey him and piss him off. Impatient, Minho lands a harsh smack against the younger’s ass. “Beg or I’m not fucking you.”

Whimpering and already much too excited and desperate, that is enough to make up Jisung’s mind. “Please, fuck me, hyung. I’ve missed your cock so much.”

“Yeah? Why, baby? Does she not fuck you?” Minho goads, pushing just the tip of his dick inside the boy.

“She does, but it’s not the same. Your cock feels so much better, hyung.” Jisung throws his head back, moaning theatrically as Minho bottoms out inside him.

“Good boy.” Minho smirks at you as he puts his hands on Jisung’s slim waist and starts moving him over his length, fucking him slowly.

You roll your eyes at the two boys acting out, thinking they’re actually doing something there. You watch as Minho makes Jisung fuck himself on his dick instead of thrusting into him, moving the younger boy ever so slowly over his cock as he stares you down with an arrogant smile, knowing that you want to see him ruin Jisung, but choosing to tease you instead.

But two can play at this game.  

Loosening up the knot that held your robe closed, you slowly pull the fabric apart over your chest until it slides off your shoulders, exposing your breasts and hard nipples to their hungry eyes. You play with them, taking your time as you massage your breasts and lightly run your fingers over your nipples, only allowing the softest moans to slip from your lips, each one riling the boys up more. You smile as Minho unconsciously starts fucking the boy under him while Jisung lets out whimpering little moans, needing you both to stop teasing him.

“Noona, please spread your legs.” Jisung whines, eyes focused on the way your legs were rubbing together because of your own hands on your chest.

“You want me to expose myself to your hyung, baby? Don’t you have any shame? Wanting him to see what any other man would fight to keep to themselves?”

Jisung whines again and reaches out to push your legs apart himself. You act as if he took you by surprise, letting them get a glimpse of your pussy before you snap your legs shut and slap your boyfriend across the face. “You little pervert!”

He draws back and whimpers, pushing his ass against his hyung’s crotch and moaning out wantonly as the movement suddenly pushes Minho’s entire length inside his ass, the tip of it hitting his prostate.

“You want to see my pussy that bad?”

He nods, watching your hand snake between your legs to cover your crotch before you spread them open, your hand inconveniently covering your heat. “You want to show your hyung what you’ve been getting all this time?”

You grind the heel of your hand against yourself, the stimulation crude but arousing nonetheless, and you let out soft little moans.

“Yes, noona, please! I want to show him your pretty pussy.”

You giggle at your boyfriend’s pleas and start pulling your fingers off one by one, until the only thing standing between their hungry eyes and your glistening pussy is your middle finger that was still placed over your slit.

“But I don’t know if I he deserves to see.” You pout sadly, continuing to tease them, rubbing your finger up and down your slit, which proves to be too much for Minho who finally snaps. “For fuck’s sake, just show us your pussy!”

“Ah, hyung—” Jisung attempts to warn him but it’s too late, you clamp your legs shut and tie your robe back up. “I see where Jisung gets his brattiness from. That’s too bad. I was going to let you eat me out.”

Tauntingly, you brandish your soaked fingers in their faces, making a show of rubbing them together then pulling them apart so they’d see the thick strings of arousal that stretch between them.

Jisung cries out, pleading you for a taste, and you even see Minho lick his lips in anticipation. So you reach your hand towards him as if you’re going to let him have a taste, but just as he opens his mouth to take your fingers in, you drop your hand and wipe your fingers on the sheets.

“Bitch.”

“Oh honey,” You lean up close to his face, your words dripping condescension. “You’re the only little bitch here, and I’ll prove it to you soon enough.”

You can see that the threat gets to him as he stops fucking Jisung to warily watch as you get off the bed to retrieve the box you had prepared beforehand.

“I didn’t tell you to stop. Keep fucking him.”

But he can’t and his eyes remain on you as you get the box and settle back down on the bed, this time behind him. Craning his head back, he sees you taking out a bottle of lube and slathering some of it on your middle finger.

“What are you going to do?” He turns back towards you with panic in his eyes.

“What do you think? I’m going to finger you open so I can fuck your pretty ass.”

“What? You’re g-gonna fuck me? But I thought…”

“You thought what, that you’d be the one fucking me?” You sneer, making him flush with embarrassment and stare back ahead to avoid your sharp gaze, but you grab him by the jaw and force him to face you again. “You think I’d let your pathetic little cock anywhere near my pussy?”

Taking one of his hands in yours, you guide it between your legs, and he gasps out as he feels your wetness. “Did you really think you deserve to fuck this pussy?” You condescend, pushing his fingers inside you and letting him feel your tight heat around him.

“N-no.” He whimpers, fingers twitching as he tries to hold himself back from moving them.  

“No.” You confirm, ripping his hand away from you.

As you push him down on top of Jisung and line your finger with his entrance--ignoring the way your boyfriend glares back at you for squishing him under the older boy--Minho squeaks out, “Wait!”

“What now, brat?”

“I’ve… I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“What?” For the first time, you panic, and practically jump back.

“I’ve fingered myself before!” He quickly adds in when he sees the worry in your eyes, “I just have never been…uh… you know.”

“Fucked?”

“Yeah.” He stares dead ahead once again, too embarrassed to look at you.

“If you’re uncomfortable with it then that’s fine. You and Jisung could just keep fucking and we’ll end it at that.” You say, trying to convey to him that he completely had a choice in this and you would never do something he was uncomfortable with. Yes, this was his “punishment” and you weren’t exactly happy with what he had tried to do to you and Jisung, but you would never force anything on him.

“No, I want to try.” He mumbles quietly.

“What?” You prod, having heard what he said but needing him to say it loud and clear, not just to confirm that he was okay with this but because it was so sexy watching the hyper-bratty boy acting so shy.  “If you don’t speak up and say what you want clearly, I won’t give it to you.”

His head snaps back towards you, scared you’d follow through on your threat, and he was way too horny to stop now. “I want it.”

Smirking, you press your lubed up finger to his hole, not pushing it in yet but just rubbing against it. “What do you want?”

“You know what.” He grunts, hips tensing with the effort to not push back against your finger.

“Jisung baby, is this how a good boy asks for something?”

“No. Good boys beg for treats.” Jisung’s voice was strained with need as he wiggles his hips, his dripping dick pressed against his abdomen and the sheets as Minho’s weight lies on top of him, but doesn’t try to rush the both of you, understanding that this is a sensitive moment.

“You heard him, kitten. Beg.”

You can tell from the way his jaw clenches that he wouldn’t give in even before the insolent words come out of his mouth. “Fuck you.”

You smile menacingly, “Gladly.”

You push your finger inside of him, not too suddenly so as not to hurt him but quick enough to make him ache. “Just wait until I’m done with you. I’ll fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Minho grunts in disapproval at your words but he doesn’t protest as your finger starts exploring his tight ass, rubbing inside him in tight little circles, searching for the spot that would have him keening.

“I’m surprised you’ve never been fucked before. With the way you act, I would’ve guessed that someone would’ve already gotten sick of your shit and fucked you straight. God knows it’s all I could think about whenever I hear you run your bratty little mouth.”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself. This doesn’t even feel go–oh!” He tried to shoot you down but he embarrassingly fails when he feels your finger brush against his prostate, quickly silencing his retort.

“Shhh… that’s a good boy.” You jeer, pressing a firm hand to the small of his back to keep him in place as you start pumping your fingers, not wanting him to get ahead of himself. You can practically feel his body humming underneath you.

It doesn’t take him long to ask for more. “Fuck, go faster.”

“What’s the magic words, princess?” You mock.

“I ha-ate you.” He stutters, making you laugh. “I hate you too, darling, but those are not quite the words I’m looking for.”

When your finger is easily thrusting in and out of him, you pull it out to squirt more lube onto it, covering your index finger along with it too then pushing them both inside of him, smirking at the way he braces himself against the stretch and knowing that he’ll be feeling good again in no time.

And sure enough, he’s soon mewling and squirming in your grasp as he unconsciously fucks the boy underneath him, his hips thrusting down with each push of your fingers against his prostate. Jisung was whimpering under him, enjoying the erratic way Minho was drilling into him was making his own dick grind against the sheets.

“That good, huh?” You drawl at the two boys.

“So good.” Jisung whimpers, but Minho still can’t get himself to give in.

“Shut up—AH!” He throws his head back, moaning out.

“I think he’s gonna cum soon, noona.” Jisung warns you, “I can feel him twitching inside me.”

“Oh no, he won’t.” You declare, pulling him up so his dick slips out of Jisung, both of them crying out in frustration, but Minho’s whining was significantly louder, not used to your teasing the way Jisung was. You smirk as you force him to sit back on his heels and wrap a hand tightly around the base of his cock to staunch his release. He was so close to breaking now.

“Grab the cockring from the box, baby.” You tell Jisung, and Minho kicks up a fuss as the younger boy slips out from under him, struggling in your arms. “No, no, I don’t want it!”

You exchange an amused look with Jisung as he hands you the cockring. “He really thinks he gets to have a say in this. What a silly kitten.” You laugh, putting the ring on him anyway. “There, now it’ll be much harder for the little kitty to misbehave.”

You push him back on his hands and knees, ordering Jisung to get the strap and put it on you. He excitedly obeys, buckling it up for you and even putting lubing it up, impatient to finally see you fucking his hyung.

“Good boy.” You cup his face and give him a sweet kiss, then, in a hushed voice so Minho wouldn’t hear, you ask, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Right away, Jisung smiles and nods, kissing you once again and letting out a muffled “yes” against your lips before he excitedly pulls back in order to watch.

Turning your attention back to Minho, you make sure he’s alright too. “I’m going in, kitten, okay?”

“Do it.” He grits, this time unable to hold back the slight way his ass pushes back against you.

Assured that they’re both completely on board with this, you get back into character. Lining the strap-on with his ass, you start pushing the fake dick into him slowly. He whimpers with each inch of it that slides into him and when it’s all the way in, he lets out a long sigh. You remain still for a while as he adjusts, and then for a little while longer just to see him squirm and try to get you to start fucking him.

“You’re so stubborn, kitten, but your body betrays you.” You tease, finally moving your hips. Minho moans quietly as your cock drives into him, bashful little noises he can’t control as his pleasure easily builds up again because of your prolonged teasing.

Shuffling up the bed so he’s kneeling in front of Minho, Jisung hooks a finger under the older boy’s chin to lift his face up towards him. He clearly likes what he sees on his hyung’s face because he bites his lip and his other hand slithers down his body to tug at his own cock.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, hyung?” Jisung asks, but it seems like he wasn’t interested in getting an answer because as soon as his hyung opens his mouth to speak, Jisung pushes his thumb inside and presses down on his tongue.

You don’t fail to notice the hungry way Jisung was regarding Minho as he struggles to mouth his words despite the obstruction. You knew what your boy wanted, and he was long overdue to get his reward anyway.

“Go ahead, baby, use his mouth.” You inform Jisung and grab onto Minho’s hair to keep his head up and his mouth level with Jisung’s cock. “Since he interrupted you so rudely earlier.”

“Thank you, noona!” Jisung gushes, paying no thanks to the person who is actually going to have his dick in his mouth because at this point--just like you had told him earlier--Minho was just a toy for you to play with your boyfriend with. As long as he was in your bed, his body was yours to do with as you please, and right now it pleases you to see him choking on Jisung’s dick.

But Minho still resists, and when Jisung presses the head of his dick against his mouth, he refuses to let him in. Unfortunately for him, Jisung was too wound up to entertain his defiance, and he promptly grips his hyung’s jaw and digs his fingers into his cheeks, pucking his lips open and shoving his length between them and into down his throat.

A loud moan tears out of his own throat when he feels Minho choke around his length, but his pleasure is marred by guilt and he forces himself to pull out in order to allow Minho to breathe. You don’t let him though, quickly stepping in and using the grip you had on Minho’s hair to push his head back down Jisung’s cock because, unlike Jisung, you don’t feel sorry for the older male at all. You hold him like that for a couple of seconds as he struggles to breathe through his nose that was nestled in Jisung’s crotch.

“Don’t be nice to him, Sungie. He tried to break us apart. Use him however you want.” You grunted, finally let Minho go.

Mercifully, Jisung gives him a few seconds to clear his throat, coughing and spluttering violently, before he replaces your grip with his own and pushes his length back inside his hyung’s mouth.

The sight of Jisung holding Minho by his hair and fucking his mouth like that reminds you of the time he did the same thing to you, holding you down with his cock sheathed down your throat. You had to admit--seeing it happen in front of you--you get why it turned him on so much back then, and the lewd sounds of Minho gagging and slurping around Jisung’s cock only works you up further.

Picking up the pace, you try to match your thrusts with Jisung’s, the both of you brutally fucking the poor boy whose moans get louder and garbled like he’s trying to tell you something. Too far gone in ecstasy, Jisung doesn’t notice but you do. You push Jisung back a bit, making him whine as you stop his abuse of the other boy’s throat so you can ask him what he wants.

“I want to cum.” He splutters hoarsely, drool falling down to the sheets as he coughs.

“Still not how you ask. Do you want to try again?” You wait for him to beg, but he still resists. “No? Alright. Jisungie, do you want to cum, baby?”

“Yes, please, let me, noona!” It’s easy for you to make Jisung beg, yet you still look at him with adoration and pride every time he does it.

“Okay, but I want you to do it on your hyung’s face. Want you to cover his pretty face with your cum. Can you do that for me, love?”

“Fuck, yes, noona.” Jisung bites down harshly on his lip, his hand immedietly going to his dick and pumping it furiously as he watches you continue to fuck Minho.

“I think he wants it, noona. His tongue is practically hanging out of his mouth.” Jisung teases the older boy whose face was mere face inches from his red and swollen dick. “Ready, hyung?”

When Jisung cums, it lands all over Minho’s face, covering him with his sticky seed and joining his drool to drip down onto the mattress. With a final grunt, the last spurt of cum lands on Minho’s cheek. Reaching out a hand, Jisung smears his cum all over Minho face, watching with ecstasy-laden eyes as his hyung shudders with need under his fingertips.

“I can’t—shit… please, please, please, ah, don’t stop, p-please, god… cum-ah...” Minho blabs, barely coherent as the need seizes his brain and pushes out every last bit of pride. He had finally broken.

Satisfied, you pull Minho up into a sitting position and give Jisung the go ahead. He quickly grips Minho’s cock and jerks him off in much the same way he did his own cock seconds earlier.

“Come on, hyung, cum for us now.” Jisung coos at him, but Minho doesn’t give in yet, scared that this was a trick somehow. Turning his head to look back at you, he looks to be on the verge of crying. “Please.”

Wow, you had really done him in.

Chuckling, you reassure him that he can cum. “Don’t worry, kitten. You can cum. You’ve done such a good job so go ahead, baby. Cum.”

Giving him the final push he needs, Minho lets the powerful orgasm Jisung’s hand and your strap-on give him, letting out loud sobs as he shakes and clutches onto Jisung’s shoulders, his cum painting your boyfriend’s stomach white and dripping down to his cock.

When you pull away to take off the strap-on, Minho slumps down into Jisung’s arms, the younger boy holding him in his embrace and awkwardly running his hand up and down his back in an attempt to soothe his overwhelmed hyung despite him not having any experience in the aftercare department.

“There, there.” Jisung’s wide eyes stare at you, silently asking you for help, and you could almost laugh at the sheer panic you see in them.

Although you still weren’t one-hundred percent over what Minho had done to you in the past, it only takes a moment of seeing the shivering mess that had become of him for your instincts to kick in and compel you to take care of him.

Wanting to help the both of them out--your boyfriend who looked like a teenager holding a newborn baby like he’s afraid he’d break him, and Minho who might as well have been born again for how new the experience was to him-- you quickly put the toys aside and go back to the boys.

Pressing a hand to Minho’s back, you caress his skin softly and whisper to him, “Shh, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. You did good. You’re such a good kitten.” You trail your hand up to push his hair out of his face so you can look him in the eye and convey your sincerity to him.

You hear a small huff, but it hadn’t come from Minho. You look up at your boyfriend to see him frowning at you, his eyes narrowed and his expression all but asking you what the hell you were doing.

You shoot him a sharp look that tell him to behave then you turn back towards the older boy in his arms. “Think you can handle a shower right now, kitten?”

He shakes his head, burying his face in Jisung’s neck and letting out a muffled whine, “Don’t wanna.”

“What a baby.” Jisung snorts under his breath and it takes everything in you not to grab him and give him a good spanking for acting so selfish and thoughtless.

You give him another sharp looks that has him cowering, and try to keep the edge out of your voice as you talk to Minho. “That’s okay, I’ll just go grab a towel to clean you up. Sungie, stay with him until I come back.”

“But, I--” Jisung starts protesting, a severe pout scrunching up his face at having to take care of his hyung when he’s usually the one being taken care of.

“No buts, don’t be selfish now.”

“Humph!”

“Be good now and I’ll reward you later.” You sigh and go to kiss the top of his head, thinking that it’ll end at that.

But as you get up to get the towels, Jisung follows you anyway, peeling his hyung’s fingers off of him and leaving him curled up on the bed alone.

“What did I say?” You grit, not feeling up to taking care of both your pouty boyfriend and his needy hyung. He’s the one who wanted this so bad in the first place, the least he could do is help you.

“Why are you being so nice to hyung?”

“It’s called aftercare, Jisung. This was his first time getting pegged, he needs the support or he could go into subdrop.” You explain patiently, but Jisung didn’t look like he was interested in listening.

“What about me?” He whines insolently, backing you up against the counter, one of his hands going between your legs. “You’re my girlfriend, not his.”

You shiver as you feel his fingers teasing your slit, reminding you of how you’re the only one who didn’t get to cum. “And you’re my big boy. I know you can handle not being the center of attention for one night. You hyung needs me more than you do.”

“He didn’t even make you cum.” He scoffs.

“I’ve got you for that, angel.” You moan as he flicks your clit and you pull him into a hungry kiss.

“You’re mine, noona.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls you up onto the counter-top, wedging himself between your legs. You don’t get the chance to ask him to fuck you before he’s already sliding into your wet heat. How is he hard again so fast? “Not his. Mine.”

You sigh, grabbing onto his ass and directing his thrusts, setting a fast pace in order to cum fast so you wouldn’t leave Minho alone for too long. “I should’ve known you’d act like this. You’re too jealous for something like this. I shouldn’t have humored you.”

“Sex is just sex, but this is different. I don’t like seeing you fussing over him like this. I don’t wanna share you, noona.”

“You’re not sharing me.” You kiss your way up his neck and along his jawline. When you reach his lips, you pull back ever so slightly so your noses are still touching. “Look at me, baby. I’m yours only.”

His hips stutter at your words and he moans helplessly. “Fuck, say that again.”

You smile in amusement at how much that affects him. Putting your lips next to his ear, you drawl, “I’m yours, Sungie.”

“And I’m yours, noona.” He professes, sticking his hand between you to rub you off quickly so you’d cum together. Your thighs shake as your orgasm rushes through you, and the way you clench around him pushes him over the edge too, his cock filling you up with his cum and his sweet moans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom.

You lay quietly in each other’s arms for a minute, the sound of your panting gradually tapering off until everything is silent.

“He’s sleeping on the couch, right?” Jisung disturbs the silence with his sullen question.

“Sungie…”

“Ugh, fine, but I’m sleeping in the middle.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

A/N: Can you tell I gave up on it? anyway this is the final part so there will be no more parts of this. I loved this series but I’m done with it lol. Anyway let me know what you think of the final chapter. did it live up to your expectations or would you rather I never posted it? skskskks

[inevitably-johnlocked]

i never see top lock anymore, and i get why— but do you have a list of sherlock being dominant? i love when he’s possessive over the people who he loves.

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: do you have a master list of toplock?? i just love seeing sherlock jealous of possessive over john :)

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: do you have any possessive smut fics with sherlock topping? (or just rough sex in general) i really love jealous sherlock.

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Hi, do you have any top!lock stories? It can be fluff, or smut. I really was in the mood for some top Sherlock, and if you could maybe some Jealous top!lock too. Thank you very much!

Hey Nonnies!

I hesitate to say you’re all the same nonny, but the wording is very similar and these all came a few days apart. If you aren’t please accept my apologies, for that and for the delay; when I get fic requests for fics I know I have a decent amount of, it takes me awhile to go through all 1000+ of my bookmarks to pick fics to rec for y’all. That said, I know I don’t have EVERY fic I have bookmarked with toplock in it, but I do have a few already tagged, so that’s what this list is for you today

Hope you enjoy, and as always, lovelies, please add your own fics or recs to this list! haven’t added ALL my fics with toplock in it, nor fics with switchlock (that will be a separate list when the time comes), so I’ve definitely missed some fics I’ve recced in the past

TOPLOCK

See also:

Omegaverse

Jealous & Possessive Sherlock 

Possessive Sherlock Pt 2

Husband by jinglebell (E, 2,003 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., PWP, Anal, Multiple Orgasms, Fluff) – Sherlock orgasms when John refers to him as ‘husband’.

Caught in the Act – by Mycroft by ShirleyCarlton (E, 2,040 w., 1 Ch. || Unintended Voyeurism, Mycroft’s POV, Blow Job, Humour) – Mycroft had only planted the camera for Sherlock’s own good, simply to keep an eye on his little brother and make sure he was alright. He hadn’t quite meant to see his brother this content, however… Part 4 of Caught In The Act

Stay by msdisdain (M, 3,561 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss / Time, Angst / H/C, Bed Sharing, Nightmares, Blow Jobs, Anal) – John’s nightmares are nothing new. Sherlock’s inability to ignore them, however, is.

Wasted Hours by songlin (E, 4,973 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || O!John/A!Sherlock, Pining, UST, Angst & Porn) – John is respectful. John keeps his distance. He doesn’t look at Sherlock when Sherlock decides trousers are for dull people. He doesn’t breathe in and savor it when Sherlock flings himself onto the couch first thing in the morning, wafting alpha scent, dressing gown settling around him in a cloud of blue silk. He doesn’t linger when he’s piecing Sherlock back together after a fight, even though he’s half-dressed and beautiful and right there. He can ignore it. He can control it.

See Recipe for Details by pandoras_chaos (E, 4,981 w., 1 Ch. || Oral / Anal Sex, Food, PWP, Fingerfucking) – John knows Sherlock’s mouth will never water over the sweet smells of baking chocolate biscuits or a lovely roast chicken, but he’s watched Sherlock nick mince pies out of Mrs. Hudson’s fridge often enough to deduce that the man does have taste, albeit confusing and obscure. So John makes a list: Things Sherlock Likes

Caffeine and Adaptive Programming by DemonicSymphony (E, 5,540 w., 1 Ch. || Androids AU / Bond Fusion || Android Sherlock, Coffee Shop AU, Pining John Hinted Bond / Q, Toplock) – Sherlock is a coffee shop android slowly falling for a regular customer. But he’s not supposed to be able to feel emotions.

The doctor is in by PlainJane (E, 7,581 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || Sex Therapist, Anal, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock is a young alpha with an aversion to his cycle. John is a gender medicine specialist. Nothing could possibly go wrong… Part 1 of Doctors and detectives

Just Like That by sussexbound (E, 8,442 w., 1 Ch. || First Time/Kiss, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, French Kissing, Anal, Emotional Lovemaking, Enthusiastic Consent, Tenderness, Crying John, Bathing/Washing, Insecure John, Toplock) – John doesn’t want to talk anymore. He wants. Oh dear god, how he wants. For the first time in what feels like years he WANTS.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by “accident”, it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

And if you say the word, I could stay with you by CaitlinFairchild (E, 12,842 w., 1 Ch. || Domestic Fluff, BottomJohn / Topping from the Bottom, Fluff and Romance, Dirty Talk, Proposals) – What Sherlock thinks is, On the day I die, be it in a dirty alley at forty or in my bed at eighty, the last thing I will remember is tonight, the way you looked at at me on the snowy pavement, cheeks pink with the cold, breath puffing in frosty white clouds, your heart in your eyes and snowflakes in your hair. I will remember that single perfect moment in my life, that moment I knew I had everything I ever wanted, and whatever happens next, I will die content. What he says is simply, “Marry me.”

Take My Breath Away by Quesarasara (E, 14,240 w., 1 Ch. || Emotional H/C, Angst & Fluff, Toplock, Smut, Lingerie) – Sherlock opens his eyes and looks at his friend—his best friend—and slowly tips his chin down until his forehead rests softly against John’s. They stay that way for a long moment, lips just a whisper apart, warm puffs of air mingling as each of them struggles to breathe. It’s no wonder they ended up here, really, locked in this breathless moment balanced on the cusp of something new. They’ve spent years taking each other’s breath away…

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John’s preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they’ve made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John’s head.

The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w., 20 Ch. || Alternating POV, MollyxJohn [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon…or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn’t know what Molly’s up to…but he knows he doesn’t like it.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways, Needy Sherlock, Wings) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

Bloody But Unbowed by BeautifulFiction (E, 43,211 w., 8 Ch. || Abduction, John Whump, Mild Torture, Background Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, Hurt/Comfort) – When a familiar argument threatens to destroy the last remnants of John and Sherlock’s failing friendship, both men are left questioning their worth to one another. Before either of them has the chance to make amends, circumstance intervenes. John is left at the mercy of his abductors, and this time, he’s not sure Sherlock will bother coming to his rescue.

Triage by scullyseviltwin (E, 51,612 w., 14 Ch. || Character Injury, Introspection) – Sherlock’s mind goes exceedingly, devastatingly quiet and gray-blank. When he speaks it’s through a thick haze, it’s through molasses, he’s so disconnected from the words that it may as well be the unconscious shooter speaking.

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 77,750 w., 18 Ch. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 83,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides Omegaverse AU || Adventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he’s kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 85,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides AU, Omegaverse, Aventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he’s kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,869 w., 26 Ch. || Omegaverse / Prime Universe Crossover || OmegaJohn / AlphaSherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Angst, H/C, Dub Con, Humour) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[rayofdawnworld]

A Good Girl

So, for context: Earlier this year our darling @saiyanprincessswanie got sick and needed surgery. I being a worried friend, reached out wished her luck promised her a get well fic, and then prayed for her. All good and dandy. But not. See, the incredible idiot that I am, NEVER POSTED THE FIC!!! I PUT THE STORY IN MY POSTED FILE BUT I DIDN'T GIVE IT TO HER!!! I. Am. A. Moran... But, this has allowed me to re-read my work and I can make it better. So, I'm posting part one now and I'll post part two next Monday. Our beloved @saiyanprincessswanie deserves more than just a one-shot at this point. I'm so sorry my Dear. I so hope you like it.  

For those interested, Tag list is open for this fic. 

Moodboard by me. :)

Grey!Steve/Sassy!OC

A Good Girl

Part One- Warnings: None

She was a good girl. Anyone with half a brain cell could see that. Steve looked at the young man once again stunned. Not only was the young woman beautiful, she looked soft and sweet,he could hardly believe that she looked so young. If asked, Steve would have sworn the beautiful woman was a young girl of eighteen and not a woman of twenty-seven, but she did have an inner lining of steel running through her, she had a fire, judging by the way she was ranting with the younger man. Steve found himself drawn to her, captivated in a way that no one ever managed to captivate him. Not even peggy. A man can get up to some very bad things for just a chance at getting a Girl like her. He thought to himself with a half formed idea backing at the back of his head. 

In hindsight, he was glad that he came with the idiot. They had met in one of his Support Group Meetings. The young man was in bed in the “act” when his girlfriend was dusted. But the relationship had been rocky, and he had been thinking about an old girlfriend of his, more and more. From what he gathered the girl had been left alone. An orphan, she had gotten a scholarship in Forensic accounting where they had met. They had dated throughout their college years but had sadly drifted apart when they hit the workforce despite having both been accepted in a prestigious firm. The stress had simply been too much. That's when things had ended. 

One of the many consequences of the snap had been unemployment. Companies had gone bankrupt either because they had lost all or most of their workforce or because the owners and shareholders had evaporated and there was no one to sign the paychecks and pay the bills. The snap had caused more problems than solved them, at least on earth. Such, in point, was the young girl's case. Steve hadn't understood why she had quit her job at the firm and had gone to a much smaller firm with a significant downgrade in income, but now he understood. She was working as a waitress in a rundown diner. The smaller firm had lost everyone. She had been the only one left. 

Steve had only just managed to dodge a flying cup aimed for the young man but alas, she didn’t have a very good aim. This argument had been going on for the better part of forty minutes. She knew she was going to get fired, so she may have decided to go all out. 

The idea had been to go with the dolt, as moral support, go talk to the girl. He had sat in a booth, while the younger man had sat in another. Her face had soured from the sweet smile she had the moment she had recognized her ex-boyfriend. She had been polite, asked him what he had wanted, he said he wanted coffee and a chance to talk. She had agreed and went to get his order. Her boss had given her ten minutes that would be reduced from her lunch hour. He listened in thanks to his superior hearing. It had been a simple conversation at first. The air stiled when, the Moran had said that he missed her. Things became frosty when he informed her that the other woman had been dusted. It took a turn for the worst when he said that he wanted her back. At first, she just laughed, then… Then the argument started. That's when Steve got the truth. He had always suspected that there was something off about the sap story the other asshole had shared with the group. Now he knew. My poor sweet girl. Don’t worry I'll  take care of you. 

Sadie was done. Just done. All her life she had been a good girl. She always did what the nuns told her to do. She never broke the rules, worked hard, was kind to all even when she was bullied. She did her damn best, to tell the truth, she saved herself waiting for “the one”, she had been faithful, loyal. She was humble, modest. And for what? To be called boring and humiliated by being compared with another woman. She had felt so small when Kevin had said that, what’s her name was sexier and better in bed. She had rebuffed that she had been a virgin when they had met. Not to mention that he never wanted to try anything new, telling her that she shouldn’t try to be someone she wasn’t, whatever THAT meant. Kevin then had the gall of saying it was all her fault he slept with the other woman. She should have done more, tried better. Learned more. When she asked him acidly, if the point of exploring one's sexuality was to do it as a couple, the bastard had accused her of making a scene. She had quit her job and left the apartment they shared that very day. He had called her accusing her of being childish and overreacting, she threw her phone away, just in case he could track the serial number. Sadie wondered how long it would take the firm and his new flame to find out that eighty percent of his so-called excellent work was done by her, at home. In some misguided and deluded idea of good to him.

The world had changed a year after that. She was still hurt. But not in the way most thought. She was hurt and angry at herself. For not saying what she wanted. For not realizing what a jackass Kevin was. But above all, she wished she could have punched him. And now here he was… Telling her how sorry  he was, what a mistake he had made, and how much he missed her and how much he wanted her back. Everything went red after that, she didn’t know what she said but she did remember throwing something at him. She nearly hit the client sitting in the booth behind them. She was going to get fired for that. She just knew it. She didn’t care. It was a lousy job anyway. She did on the other hand get to do something she had dreamed of ever since they had broken up, no ever since she had caught him cheating and left him. It wasn’t a punch, no. But it had been a slap. And a very big mighty slap. 

Later that evening, Frank had been gracious enough to “let” her finish her shift, with no job and slim prospects, she was still smiling. Her smile dropped when she saw Captain America himself waiting outside for her with an apologetic face. Now that she thought back on it. Kevin had walked in with him. Before she could say anything the tall Adonis took a step forward and smiled minutely.

“I’m sorry about today. I didn’t know the whole story. If I had I would have stopped him from coming here.” Steve Grant Rogers was talking to her. Apologizing to her. Sadie smiled stunned but sadly.

“It’s alright. Kevin has always had this way about him. It takes a bit for you to see past his bulshit.” Steve chuckled and shook his head. We’ll have to do something about this language though. “I’m not surprised you fell for it. You're a good man, Captain.” 

Hearing that did things to him. She was perfect in every way. Sweet, pure, good-natured. She deserved better than Kevin. She deserved someone who would keep her safe from the ugliness that this word had become. She deserved to be cherished. Taken care of. And HE wanted to be the one to do all those things for her. But he also realized that he would have to pace himself. 

“Well, to make it up to you how about I offer you a job? I was going to give it to Kevin, but I think there's a story he’s not telling us about him being fired from the firm you were both working at, so I feel my safest bet is offering it to you.” Steve said shifting his weight from foot to foot. Sadie smiled at that.

“Yea, someone at the firm must have found out that he was a slacker. I did most of his work for him remotely from home at night. And with no hot, exciting girlfriend in HR to cover up for him…” was all she had to say. “What kind of job are you talking about?”

“Simple accounting. Nothing out of the ordinary. Howard Stark stopped the government from declaring me dead so the hundred dollars I invested in his company have grown in stock value ever since. He also apparently bought a bunch of Real Estate and a lot of other stuff, so now I don't know what I have or what I owe to the IRS. I need someone to look at my books… that have been untouched since nineteen ninety-one.” Steve explained, a bit overwhelmed. Sadie wished she could have told him that she needed to think about it. But she didn’t. Without any job prospects, she wasn’t in a place to decline Steve's offer. The fact that she would be working for America's Golden Boy and getting one over Kevin was just a bonus. Thanking him he gave her the compound address and they parted ways. 

He followed her from a safe distance. He wanted to make sure she got home alright. At least that's what he told himself as he melted into the darkness. 

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 3

“Come and Get Sheetfaced.” Clever wordplay, if you were in fourth grade. The crude illustration of what was supposed to be a tipsy ghost did little more to advertise the marketing genius of head cheerleader and reigning bitch queen Tina.

She’d shoved the neon orange monstrosity into my hand with all the finesse of a football player, cornering both me and Steve on our way out of third period Chem.

“Hope you’ll both come.” She chirped, though I wondered how much of her enthusiasm had been aimed at me, and how much was for my much more agreeable compatriot.

I never liked Tina. Not since she stuck gum in my hair in sixth grade, forcing my dad to get the scissors to my hair when peanut butter failed. It was okay though; I rocked a Mohawk. She’d always been a bitch, but that was fine; she thought I was one too. At least we understood each other.

So; for the sake of appearances, and the almighty sacrifice of actually getting along with some of the populars, I took the damn flyer, determined to dispose of it at a more convenient time.

“So Tina’s throwing another Halloween bash. That should be cool.” Commented Steve, rushing up to walk beside me with his flyer in hand.

I just gave him a look, because Steve already knew what I thought about Tina and how little her boozefests appealed to me.

“Come on, Lo. It could be fun to let loose a little...” He continued to try and convince me with one of those easy smiles that worked so well on Nancy. On me; not so much.

“Drink a little, dance a little. Get crazy!” He grinned, wide eyed with his hands in the air, as if he could embarrass me into relenting.

“Speak for yourself. I’ve had enough crazy in this past year to last a lifetime.” I half joked, but it came off flat. We’d both seen what Hawkins was truly capable of. The kind of horror movie tropes that didn’t even belong on the midnight feature.

Steve’s smile had fallen a little; his happy-go-lucky attitude more forced as of late. It had me wondering how deep that night had really cut him; how many nightmares had him staying awake in the middle of the night.

I’d seen my fair share of shit; been pretty much born into the middle of it. It took a hell of a lot to faze me, and some weird Venus flytrap looking monster wasn’t going to be the thing to send me overboard.

Steve was different.

He was born into the life of perfect privilege; his dad a highflying lawyer in some fancy business firm, his mom a bonafide 50s catalogue housewife. He was a picket fence away from Nancy Wheeler level of holiday special suburban dream, but I suppose being filthy rich stretched some of the parameters substantially.

Sure; he had his problems. The fact that his dad was having an affair on his mom was Hawkins worst kept secret, but his mom was no idiot, and kept Mr Harrington on a tighter leash than a Rottweiler in heat. That meant Steve had his first taste of independent living, with a bachelors pad that could rival Hugh Hefner.

What Steve could see in a girl like me was a mystery. I guess I was pretty; in a drug addict kind of way, and my jokes weren’t too bad once you got past the fact that my humour was drier than the panties of an eighty year old virgin.

Still; Steve could do so much better. He had Nancy, and Tommy, and Carol and a whole list of populars who were just lining up for a minute of his time.

King Steve; they said, though I guess every court needed an outcast. A black sheep to do the dirty work and keep the king’s confidence when his crown got a little off kilter.

“Please don’t make me go to this alone.” He asked; and the honesty in his voice was almost enough to break me entirely. It was easy to forget that being royalty could be draining at times; even for someone as naturally charismatic as Steve.

“You won’t be alone. You’ve got Nancy.” I remarked, honing in on the one indisputable point in my argument for playing hooky just this once.

“Yeah, but it won’t be the same...” Steve argued, though his tone was still light; eyes trailing up to the ceiling as if he saw something interesting up there.

“She doesn’t scare people off half as well.” He joked and I couldn’t help but chuckle, because Steve had the vanity to glance at me to see if he’d won on such cheap shot.

“Steve Harrington; are you asking me to be your bodyguard?” I asked; a smile still stretched across my face because I could play his game too, and fuck; if I wasn’t gonna beat him at it.

“Bodyguard’s a strong word. More like assassin. You can stop me from saying something stupid before Nance kills me for it.” He retorted, and despite our conversation resting firmly in joking territory; I couldn’t help but hear some truth in there.

“Think the word you’re looking for is babysitter.” I corrected him, because I wasn’t quite ready for this conversation to turn serious again just yet.

“Well; you always did say I was immature for my age.” Steve concurred, because only he could make self deprecation seem like a winning strategy.

“So will you come?” He asked; all jokes aside, because I could only dance around the question for so long.

“Steve; I’m sure you’ll be fine without me.” I replied, my voice soft and sincere.

As much as I liked to joke otherwise; he really didn’t need me to hold his hand through everything. He was more capable than me; at least when it came to social settings. I just lurked in the background with a drink in my hand, looking every inch the outsider in my muted shades of black leather.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you there.” He countered, and it brought a smile to my face.

After all this time things hadn’t changed. He was still Happy-go-lucky Harrington; dumb perky rich boy with too much hair and not enough sense, and I was still Hellfire Hopper; bitter as a sour ball and twice as hard to stomach. Times changed but people didn’t; not when it came to the things that mattered.

“I’ll think about it.” I offered sincerely as I opened my locker, because that’s the best he was gonna get out of me without blackmail; and we both knew I had far more on him than he had on me.

Steve just nodded, accepting the compromise as a starting point before hurrying off to basketball practice.

He was sweet like that; quick to trust, and quicker to make a fool of. We’d really have to fix that some day, by for now I was thankful.

I screwed up Tina’s party invitation into a satisfying ball that rather festively resembled a pumpkin, before tossing it into the depths of my locker, soon to be forgotten in a mess of colourful cafeteria receipts.

Steve could grill me about it later, and as it was; his grilling was more like a light toasting; thank god for small mercies. His forgiveness was easier to get, and you know what they say; better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

—————————————————

I tried to stand my ground; I really did, but when Steve dug his heels in about something, it would take more than hell or high water to move him. For a teenage boy; he really did nag more than a neglected housewife, and I was finally understanding why my dad never remarried.

I’d almost made a clean getaway, right up until the last bell before final period when I’d opened my locker and that perfect shaped ball of orangeness decided to fall at the feet of one Steve Harrington. He’d unscrunched it, despite my insistence that it was a used cafeteria napkin and probably had something gross like chewed gum in it. Then his face fell, and it hit me like a punch in the gut.

Steve didn’t pick many hills to die upon; always was more of a lay down and roll over kind of guy, but when he picked them; he’d hold them valiantly. Honesty was one of those noble qualities that Steve valued so highly, and was one of the things I could definitely live without.

In the Hopper household; dishonesty was a proud trait held up with the likes of pettiness and just pure grit. If it didn’t kill anyone; it could go without saying, and if it did; well, we’d dealt with that before too.

With Steve, my dishonesty had always been a point of strain, testing our friendship in a way that was usually reserved for married couples.

I lied to him. He knew that. Whether it was to save his feelings, or just to save face; I’d lie more than a politician on Inauguration Day, and with far more credibility. Usually Steve never took it to heart; understood it came with being friends with a compulsive omitter who avoided social responsibility at all costs, but this time was different.

After having chewed my ear off for the better part of study period; he’d relented, but only after the promise that I’d go to Tina’s stupid party, if only to drink her parents booze and maybe tp that obnoxious rose bush in her front yard, but of course I never told Steve that.

So with a very crinkled flyer in tow, I offloaded my books into my locker, very much not looking forward to going to Melvald’s to pull together a costume that said “I’m here under duress.”

“Hey Lola...” Called the unnervingly upbeat voice of Nancy Wheeler, because only she could make Halloween a day of sunshine and rainbows.

I turned to her, noting Jonathan standing beside her with yet another one of Tina’s orange monstrosities in hand. Was everyone going to this party?

“See; even Lola’s going...” She said to Jonathan and I was suddenly aware I’d walked into a conversation I wasn’t sure I wanted to be part of.

“What?” I asked, thinking that if this conversation was about what I think it was, Nancy was being awfully presumptuous.

That, or Steve had a far bigger mouth than I gave him credit for. Scratch that; Steve did have a big mouth.

“I was just telling Jonathan that he should totally come with us to Tina’s party.” She informed with such conviction; I half believed that Steve had somehow managed to talk me into some pseudo double date neither parties had an interest in going on.

“Actually, I was thinking of skipping this year instead and staying in with my dad.” I peddled in with the lamest excuse in the book, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

I was planning on staying in; with Eleven, not my dad, but the night’s itinerary would be roughly the same; too much candy and bad horror movies.

“What?!” Nancy exclaimed, and for a minute she reminded me of Steve.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” She lamented, as if the idea of anyone shunning the moral wasteland of a popularity contest that was Tina’s Halloween party was foreign to her.

Jonathan got it; his smile was testament to that.

Ever the social outcast; sometimes I felt like he was the only other person who had no desire to be involved with the social niceties that came with being part of the in crowd.

“Sorry Nance. Looks like some people aren’t interested in getting sheet faced” He joked; and I laughed because I was glad I wasn’t the only one who thought that pun was total trash.

Nancy soon realised her approach wasn’t working; the social outrage over the rejection of the party of the year hardly a relevant motivator to those who’d already accepted their place at the outskirts of society.

Instead she took a new angle; putting those optional classes on investigative journalism to good use.

“Okay. You’re gonna go trick or treating and you’re gonna be home by eight...” She began, realising Jonathan was the easier target and taking advantage of that as we strolled towards the school exit.

“Listening to... The Talking Heads... and reading Vonnegut, or something...” She plucked the words out of thin air, summarising Jonathan’s existence beautifully in a a harsh combination of vain existentialism and edgy romanticism, because maybe he was a cliche; but so was me, Steve and Nancy if we were being honest.

Jonathan just shrugged, unfazed at her attempt to highlight his predictability.

“Sounds like a nice night...” He commented, and I laughed, because I could see what he was doing there; and it had nothing to do with his love of American New Wave.

“Sure does; could you use a plus one?” I teased, aiding him in his attempt to drive Miss Nancy Wheeler wild with incredulousness.

“Come on guys! Don’t be a bore!” She griped, because she knew reasoning was getting nowhere, and immaturity may be more Steve’s thing; but my god; if it wasn’t effective!

“Okay, Okay!” I relented, only because I’d agreed this much with Steve, but Nancy didn’t need to know that.

However, she did need to know the very strict conditions of my attendance which I wouldn’t budge over.

“But if the new guy so much as looks at me; I swear to god I’ll...” I began, but couldn’t quite finish before I was swept up in someone’s arms.

Normally being hoisted two feet up in the air would be a cause for alarm, and the shriek I let out was far too feminine for me to pass it off as anything else.

Of course; when the raucous laughter of no other than Steve Harrington was muffled into the back of my jacket, the shock quickly wore off.

“Jesus Christ, Steve! Don’t do that!” I lectured as soon as my boots touched the floor; reaching out to slap him on the shoulder, just in case he got any other ideas for unwelcome surprises.

“Why? You loved it when we were kids...” He countered, releasing his grip around my waist so he could look at me with that dumb too-happy smile.

“Yeah; when I was twelve and you were at least a foot shorter...” I snapped back, because of course; Steve would still act like we were in middle school; immature little shit that he was!

Still; my chastisements always fell short when it came to Steve; his smile just a little too bright to be dimmed by something as dull as maturity and personal space.

Instead; he just beamed down at me, still resembling that lanky kid who’d give me piggybacks all those years ago. Same old Steve.

“And how is the most beautiful girl in the world?” He asked; his attention finally turning to his actual girlfriend, who was waiting far more politely for him than I’d have in her shoes.

“Who? Me?” She asked incredulously; a teasing lilt in her tone, only emphasised by the exaggerated hand on the chest routine. “I thought you were talking about Lola.”

Despite her slight dig, there was no love lost between the pair; teasing giving way to pure gooey eyes that would’ve made me barf from anyone else.

Steve And Nance were lucky I liked them enough for it to be endearing.  Then they started kissing and all bets were off.

“And that’s our cue to leave...” I commented, grabbing Jonathan by the arm and towing him away before tongues came into play.

[strongheartmaid]

Tale as old as time [teaser section]

AN: well, not so much as a teaser as part of the “we’re finally in Greece after spending an ungodly amount of time in southern England trying to figure our next step (that and unpacking who’s who and who’s dating who)” plot.  Very much in progress as I’m constantly adding or reworking sections because I’m fussy with my writing. And yes, there is a reference to a particular Disney cartoon involving hockey-playing ducks. (Because, I like murdering canon like that)

“Everyone in one piece?" Lise called out to the girls as they finally found themselves in Sanctuary. The travel there had been brutal - Hera's Cosmos had altered it just enough that it had been sheer torture just trying to get in. Various calls of confirmation settled her nerves, but only just managed to do so. She still had to fight down the queasy, uneasy feeling of the wrongness that had settled into this holy place. (It was currently making Death Queen Island feel like a charming little vacation spot - of course, she planned on *never* saying that within Ikki's presence. That was something that would have the others wondering if she had a bit of a death wish). Alala glanced about before spying what she thought was a Saint in the distance, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "So, think Hera's been watching Isle of Lost Souls again?" she asked, turning her gaze to Ciri, a look of something swimming in their depths as she thought about what she would love to do to Hera. "Isle of.." Ciri started, her voice trailing off as she tried to recall why that movie title sounded so damn familiar. She promptly shot a stink eye at Alala once she recalled the movie in question - not one of her favorites. "Really? And if you must name the movie, it was Island of Lost Souls, Alala." "Are we really discussing horror classics from the nineteen thirties right now?" Eira asked as she peered around, trying to find something to get her bearings so she could go find the Temple of the Golden Ram. (And here she groaned - she really hated the cutesy names the temples of the Golden Saints had. What was wrong with just a simple "Temple of Aries" or "Temple of Virgo"? But no, Athena had to have titles like "Temple of the Virgin" and "Temple of the Golden Crab".) "I'll take the old horror classics over the more modern blood, sex and gore trite crap," Ciri answered. "I'll take horror tropes for two hundred, Alex," she teased Lise, knowing the other's fondness for that particular trivia show - and she knew enough not to even try to play against her when they were watching it. If Lise knew the category, she'd answer every question on the board. "This trope is commonly used by the cast to their complete detriment because bad things tend to happen to the heroes when they do this," Lise said absently, trying to send a pulse of her Cosmos to alert her lover, her soulmate to her being there. "What is splitting up?" Ciri asked, earning a slight but strained chuckle from the rest of the girls. "Please tell me you really aren't suggesting that we do just that," Rhosyn opined. She paused a moment when she saw Ciri's face and let out wearied and fully exasperated sigh at that. "You are," she said as she pinched the bridge of her nose, a pained expression crossing her features. Why was she getting the feeling that this was going to be a bad move to end all bad moves? "Quickest way to find the boys," Ciri said. "Send a pulse of Cosmos out to let us know once you found them," she continued. "Sounds like a viable plan." "A viable plan would be sticking together because we have no idea what the temperament of the Saints would be right now," Althaia countered, trying to act as a voice of reason - even if she knew she probably wouldn't be entirely successful at doing so. "I mean, for pity's sake, Shiryū's probably a dragon if Hera used their Cloths as the basis for her curse. Which means some of them are probably generic beasties because they don't have a specified animal, like Saga and Kanon for example." "Actually," Lise said, slanting her gaze towards Althaia, a thoughtful expression crossing her features, "because Kanon did a stint as the Sea Dragon Mariner, and since Saga is the Golden Saint of Gemini, ergo twins, so it's possible that it impacted the curse in such a way so that both twins are probably cursed to be sea dragons. But, this is just a guess, mind you." "Okay," Ciri said, holding up her hand in the shape of a t, capturing everyone's attention. "Before we go much further, let's try and figure out what we're looking at. If we go with the aforementioned theory that the curse pulls on their Cloths, that means Hyōga's a swan, Mū's a ram, Saga and Kanon are probably sea dragons if we go with Persephone's theory, Aphrodite's a fish and titans know what the curse has done to Shun." She slanted a Look at Eira. "Don't you even dare to start humming any music from Swan Lake." Eira just smiled, her pale emerald eyes twinkling with sheer mischief. "Nope, I was going to hum the theme from that one Disney cartoon Hyōga got me hooked on." Ciri gave her a flat stare as she quickly recalled which cartoon that had been. "Those were *ducks*," she said slowly, not quite believing that she was even having this particular conversation. "Ducks, Eira, quack quack, not honk." "Anthropomorphic alien ducks that played hockey and fought alien lizards," Eira said, chuckling. "Oh, to have been a fly on that wall during the pitch for that series." "Getting back on track," Lise said, crossing her arms over her chest, glancing between the small group. "As much as I hate the idea of splitting up to look for the boys,  Ciri did raise a good point. We can cover more ground if we split up. There's six of us and twelve temples, that means we cover two temples a piece." She took a small steadying breath. "All right, Eira, you'll take the temples for Aries and Taurus. Rhosyn, you'll take the temples for Pisces and Aquarius. Althaia, you'll take the temples for Sagittarius and Capricorn. Alala, you'll take the temples for Gemini and Cancer. Ciri, you'll take the temples for Libra and Scorpio. I'll take the temples for Leo and Virgo. Sound good?" The girls silently looked amongst each other and as one nodded. "Good luck and Godspeed," Lise said as she began the slow trek to where the temple of the Holy Lion or whatever the hell of a fancy title Athena gave it was - after this, she was never going to complain about her husband's realm again, at least that didn't require her to climb a gods be damned mountain! Leo came before Virgo in the zodiac so she was hopefully bound to run into the Gold saint, Aiolia, first. A minor wince crossed her features as she realized that meant he was probably half lion and half man due to the nature of Hera's curse. Well, hopefully more man than lion but her luck was never that good.. Of course, she just had to jinx herself as a raging cosmos was fast approaching. She barely had time to call on her sacred cloth in defense before it was upon her. She raised her staff in a defensive pose, barely keeping the being from landing on her before it leapt backwards, landing in a crouch, looking all the world to be getting ready to pounce again. She took a steadying breath, keeping her staff grasped tightly in her hands, her knuckles turning bone-white with the strength of her grip. She swallowed harshly as she studied the being before her - both lion and man in some unholy mixture. Well, at least she had found one of Athena's eighty-eight Saints, or rather one found her in this case. "Leo Aiolia," she said, her voice calm and steady despite herself, "stand down." The beast cocked his head as he stared at her before he slowly settled down. "You're not Hera," he said, his voice rough, raspy. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted at being thought of as my aunt," Lise muttered under her breath. "No, not Hera. Lise DeAvaon," she said, "or Persephone. I'll answer to either." She shrugged slightly, her eyes watching him to see what he would do next. She sent a small pulse of Cosmos to Ciri, alerting her to the fact that she found one of the Saints but not to come just yet. She needed more information before she'd drag the other girls to her location. "You came by yourself?" Aiolia asked, tilting his head in the other direction. "No, I'm not that insane to think I could handle however many Saints that have been afflicted by Hera's curse on my own. There's five others with me," she said, giving a small huff. "Which others?" Aiolia asked, still studying her - unused to seeing Athena's sister in her Holy Cloth, or rather, unused to seeing Athena's sister period. It was rare that she ever ventured into public like this, preferring to operate behind the scenes - which was probably one reason that Shun (or Hades, whichever, it was still hard to wrap his brain around that little fact - some year, he was going to have to have Mu sit down and explain it to him in terms that he could clearly understand) adored her. "Oh for the love of grandmother Rhea," she groaned softly. "My older sister Artemis, Rhosyn, Eira, Alala and Althaia." Aiolia gave her the flattest look he could manage given his new facial structure. "Eira. You brought Eira with you." "Well, she is Mū's girlfriend, which is something we still wonder how the bloody hell happened," Lise answered with a mild shrug. "And she's bonded so she felt his Cosmos change so you really think she wouldn't be coming?" Aiolia just stared at her. "Woman," he began slowly. "Think about her sense of humor for a moment. Now, look at me. Need I say anything else." Lise blinked a moment, her mind running over what he just said and what she knew about Eira. "Oh no," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I am so, so sorry, Aiolia." He reached over and patted her head. "I'm surprised she hasn't already started with the jokes." "Well.." Lise said, her voice trailing off for a moment. "She did threaten to hum the theme to the Mighty Ducks cartoon." "The what?" Aiolia blinked, confusion in his gaze. "You never watched Disney cartoons?" Lise answered, arching an eyebrow ever so slightly. Aiolia blinked a moment, trying to wrap his brain around what Lise was getting at and immediately groaned when he remembered catching an episode when he was visiting Hyōga during one of the rare quiet moments before another Holy War would begin. "Hyōga's a fucking swan. He go honk not quack." "Wow, that is frighteningly similar to what Arty said," Lise said, amusement lacing her words. Aiolia cast his gaze heavenward. "Lovely," he said. "So, moving on. The girls all right?" he asked, tensing a moment as he felt something approach. "As all right as one can get when your bonded one is currently appearing to be a petting zoo person," Lise answered, her pale gaze drifting about, trying to figure out where the new pulse of Cosmos was coming from. "I make no promises of not swatting at Eira if she makes one Lion King joke," Aiolia said, stepping slightly in front of Lise in an attempt to protect the young goddess from the impending threat - he couldn't quite get a good read on the Cosmos with his condition fouling things up. "What about Kimba, the white lion then?" she asked innocently, batting pale blue eyes. "We do not talk about Kimba," he snarked. He let out a minor relieved sigh when he saw who it was. "Well hello, lunch," he said, his voice full of innocent teasing. Aphrodite merely raised one hand and then one finger in response to the teasing. He peered around Aiolia to spot the young goddess that was being hidden behind him. "That's not Athena." "Her younger sister, which you should have remembered," Lise huffed, sticking her tongue out at the Pisces saint. "I only helped hook you up with Rhosyn. She's here by the way." Aphrodite was grateful that his changed appearance meant she couldn't tell how badly he paled at that pronouncement. "Here? As in here in Greece or as in she's actually in Sanctuary?" "Well, she's supposed to be checking out whatever fancy name 'Thena gave the temples of Pieces and Aquarius," she said, shrugging slightly. "And I know, I know, I already got lectured from Aiolia about bringing Eira with me." Aphrodite felt his left eye twitch. "That woman is a menace to one's sanity." "That woman's dating Mū, and she's worried about him." "I still want to know how the hell that happened," Aphrodite muttered. He had always thought Mū was married to his job as both Gold Saint to Athena and as the Cloth Blacksmith - but well, that theory had been all shot to hell when he accidentally (well, maybe not so accidentally - he had planned on dragging Mū with him and the others to lunch) entered Mū's temple and found him with Eira. There was not enough alcohol in the world to have dealt with those scarring mental images. "You and just about everyone else," Lise said, idly shrugging. "But that's neither here nor there at the moment." Aphrodite's expression softened as best it could and he made his way over, placing a hand on the young mortal goddess's shoulder. "Truth now, how you holding up?" he asked gently, concern welling up for the young woman. Lise swallowed harshly, the tears finally streaking down her cheeks as she finally broke - something she hadn't been allowing herself to do because she knew she had to be strong for the others. "Barely." Aiolia glanced at Aphrodite and the two shared a silent conversation, ending with Aiolia nodding and sending a small burst of his Cosmos towards where he knew a particular Bronze was hiding.

[elderxprice]

☣ spy au - mcpriceley or price/cunningham friendship?? (i just saw bom last month and am new to this fandom. i just discovered your blog today and i have to tell you i think its awesome wow)

Kevin is overdressed in a suit and burgundy tie, earning him quite a few looks from someone referred to as that guy.

“He’s not all there,” the bartender says, circling a finger beside his temple. “Clearly.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Kevin muses, resting his chin against the palm of one hand. “He seems alright to me.”

Alright, but obviously drunk. The man spins slowly on his barstool, double fisting pink martinis while singing Bad Blood at the top of his lungs. It would almost be impressive - how this man can multitask like that, without losing his balance or his drinks - if it wasn’t so unbelievably stupid.

“See something you like?” The man catches Kevin staring, and lifts his drinks in reception. “’Because I certainly do.”

Kevin rolls his eyes. “I’m not one for lines,” he says, approaching the other man, anyway. “Tell me your name.”

“Well, since asked so nicely.” The man sets down one of his drinks, offering Kevin a hand. “Connor,” he says, leaning in rather close. “But play your cards right, and you can call me yours.”

Kevin sighs, pulling his hand back. “I told you I’m not into lines.”

“Suit yourself.” Connor spins back towards the bar, picking up his second drink. “But for the record, that wasn’t a line. It was the truth. Or, it was, until you were rude and ruined your chances.”

“I’ll try to get over it.” Kevin waves the bartender over, ordering himself another gin and tonic. “So, what exactly do you do, Connor? Besides this.” He motions towards the empty glasses scattered about the bar top, and at Connor’s too-small, too-tight shirt.

“I suppose you could say I’m an entrepreneur.” He throws back what’s left of his drinks, before turning his attention back to Kevin. “You know, a businessman.” Connor hooks a finger beneath Kevin’s chin, drawing him closer. “I sell things.”

Kevin swallows thickly, eyes slipping shut as Connor leans in, nosing along his jaw; “What, um, what kind of things?”

Connor hums, lowering a hand to Kevin’s thigh. “Do you want another line,” he asks; “or the truth?”

The truth, Kevin means to say; but before he gets the chance, there is a sudden stab of pain that steals his breath and all his words.

“Oh, my,” says Connor. Reaching out, he plucks something from Kevin’s neck, dropping it into an empty glass. Kevin has just enough time to make out the familiar green flight of a tranquilizer dart before everything fades to black.

Is he dead, someone asks. Oh, Jesus, if he’s dead, he’s gonna kill me.

If he’s dead, he can’t kill you, someone else replies. Find some comfort in that, at least.

But he’s my best friend. The first someone starts to cry, while the second someone tells him to shut the heck up, this is a bar not a funeral.  

Kevin comes to slowly, but perhaps not as slowly as he would have if there were not two people arguing right above him. “Hnng,” he groans, weakly scrubbing a hand over his face. “Arnold, what the heck was that?”

“Kevin!” Arnold drops to his knees in what sounds like a painful way, before pulling Kevin into a hug. “I’m sorry, buddy, that was my bad. It’s just, well, this girl walked on stage, and I got distracted ‘cause she’s, like, so hot, Kev, I gotta show you, later, and it kinda messed up my aim.”

“Kind of?” Connor, who does not join them on the floor, gives Arnold’s hair a sharp tug. “Try totally messed it up.” He peers down at Kevin; “The intended target was eighty feet to your left.”

Kevin’s eyes widen slightly, and Connor sighs; “Your little friend, here, told me everything when he thought you were dead, for some reason.” He crouches down to shake Kevin’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Kevin Price: ex-Mormon, twenty-eight-year-old virgin, and shit at Connect Four.”

Kevin glares at Arnold, who immediately shies away.

“He also said you’re some sort of secret agent.” Connor reaches for Kevin’s other hand, helping him up from the floor. “Funny, I didn’t clock you as the James Bond type; - well, aside from all the being handsome.”

“Please, shut up.” Blearily, Kevin sits himself back at the bar, reaching for what’s left of his drink. It is mostly melted ice, but he drinks it, anyway. His head is starting to hurt, and everything is still a little off-kilter.

“So, do you have a gun?” Connor asks, casually walking his fingers up Kevin’s thigh. “Is it big? Can I see it?”  

Arnold laughs; “Oh, it is,” he says. “Real big, isn’t it Kev?” He follows his words with an exaggerated wink, mouthing good luck, before wandering off towards the stage.

Connor hums; “I like him.”

“I don’t.” Kevin drops his head to the bar top. He thinks he might kill Arnold for this, once his wits are back about him.  

“Oh, please. I don’t even know you, but I know that’s a lie.” Connor moves his hand from Kevin’s thigh to the top of his head, carding his fingers through Kevin’s hair, lulling him close to sleep.  

Kevin snorts; “You don’t know anything.”

“I know you’re shit at Connect Four.” Connor drops his hand as Kevin lifts his head; “and a virgin.”

“For now,” Kevin says, yawning. “But probably not for long.”

Connor rolls his eyes, hooking a finger in the knot of Kevin’s tie; “Someone’s presumptuous.”

“It’s not presumptuous if it’s true.” Kevin points out.

“No,” Connor agrees. He uses a hand on Kevin’s jaw to tilt his head back, leaning in for a slow, exploring kiss that tastes like cheap gin and strawberry vodka. Kevin whines once its over.

“Hey,” he complains, reaching out for Connor, who takes his hands and helps him off the barstool.

“Come on, 007,” he says, ignoring the two, exuberant thumbs-up Arnold gives him from over Kevin’s shoulder. “Let’s go see this really big gun of yours.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Any fics about hair? Whether it’s hair care or hair pulling, I don’t mind.

Hi Nonny!

Ah, I don’t have very many that deal SPECIFICALLY with hair, but more like hair is within the plot or one of the boys loves the hair! So here’s what I can remember; I know there’s another that’s 100% about hair (Sherlock wants to taste John’s hair and doesn’t know how to ask) and I can’t remember which one it is and it’s bugging me LOL. Anyway, here you are, everything that showed up in a search. I’ll also add Beard Fics too:

HAIR & BEARDS

See also: John Has a Beard

Upon Reflection, Tenable Frippery by emmagrant01 (T, 1,299 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4, John’s Beard, First Kiss, Fluff) – John was, inexplicably, growing a beard.

Untouched by KittieHill (E, 3,239 w., 1 Ch. || Kissing, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, Body Worship, Sherlock’s Scars Mentioned, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming, Multiple Orgasms) – Sherlock leaked a lot. John had never needed lubricant. John loved watching it, had once spent an entire afternoon edging Sherlock so he could watch as the thick precome drip, drip, dripped onto Sherlock’s belly.

Love and Hair Dye by Anonymous (E, 3,920 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Body Worship, Self Conscious John, Voyeurism, Idiots in Love, Smutty Smut) – Self conscious John decides to cover the greys on his head, and the colour isn’t what he thought it would be. Now he’s more self-conscious than ever.

The Oolong Disaster by unicornpoe (T, 4,151 w., 1 Ch. || John’s Beard, Fluff, Humour, Frustrated Sherlock, John Takes Care of Sherlock, Case Fic-ish, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Possessive Sherlock) – John has a beard. Sherlock has a panic attack.

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

Facade by distantstarlight (M, 4,715 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, John’s Beard, No-Shave November, Grumpy Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock) – Sherlock is highly irritated with a challenge John has agreed to undertake. Why does he need to grow a beard anyway?

One Day Like This by nondeducible (E, 4,872 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Bed-Sharing, Romance, Fluff, Virgin Sherlock) – When Sherlock emerged from the bathroom, the sight before him nearly took his breath away. The only light in the room was the small lamp on the bedside table. John’s skin shone like gold, his hair like the purest silver. He was on his side, facing the empty part of the bed, his outstretched hands ready to embrace whoever climbed in next to him. Sherlock could imagine, just for a second, that this was their shared bed and he was coming back to settle into John’s arms.

Survival Strategies for the Domesticated British Butthole by Atiki (E, 6,183 w., 1 Ch. || Crack, Rimming, Anal Sex, Iced Lolly, Hair Removal, Depilation) – In which there’s a rimming disaster, Sherlock depilates his butt, everything goes very, very wrong and groceries are mistreated. This fic contains hair removal creme in a butthole, ice lollies in a butthole and John Watson’s penis in a butthole. You have been warned.

The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.

The Tip Over Into The Inevitable by ivyblossom (T, 6,894 w., 1 Ch. || Grief, Cuddles, Insomnia, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers) - When his father dies, Sherlock avoids sleeping. Then discovers he can’t sleep at all. John finds a way to help.

Onomatopoeia by aquabelacqua (M, 6,904 w., 1 Ch. || First Time/Kiss, Frottage, Dirty Talk, Domestics, Word Kink, POV Sherlock, Dry Humping / Sex, Chair Sex, Hair Pulling, Lazy Mornings, Hand Jobs, Friends to Lovers) – Something is the matter with John. Sherlock is determined to figure out what it is. Mark his words.

Beg for Mercy (Twice) by Solitary_Endeavor (E, 7,060 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Bottomlock, Bearded John, Edging, Rough Sex, Idiots in Love, Canon Compliant) – Sherlock hasn’t left the flat in four days, the itch of impatience beneath his skin too great to allow him to suffer interaction with any human being who isn’t John. This is probably a mercy that goes both ways, as he’s driving even himself mad. Sherlock supposes there is a lesson to be learned here about having himself to blame, but of course he blames Mycroft.

Of Razors, Pipes, Red Notebooks and Rugby Jerseys, Or: Sherlock Doesn’t Like His Doctors Clean Shaven by allonsys_girl (E, 7,313 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., PWP / Porn With Feelings, John’s Beard / Beard Kink, Roleplay, Love Declarations, Banter, Rimming, Anal, Domestic Fluff / Bliss, Idiots in Love, Emotional Lovemaking, Pet Names, Obsessive Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock) – John grows a beard. Sherlock really likes it. Part 1 of Consulting Husbands

Christmas by Anonymous (E, 7,673  w., 1 Ch. || Worried Sherlock, PWP, Drunkeness, Christmas, Est. Relationship, Idiots So In Love) – John feels a lump rise in his throat, and it hits him, again, that this beautiful, infuriating creature is his. Completely, one-hundred percent his.

And if you say the word, I could stay with you by CaitlinFairchild (E, 12,842 w., 1 Ch. || Domestic Fluff, BottomJohn / Topping from the Bottom, Fluff and Romance, Dirty Talk, Proposals) – What Sherlock thinks is, On the day I die, be it in a dirty alley at forty or in my bed at eighty, the last thing I will remember is tonight, the way you looked at at me on the snowy pavement, cheeks pink with the cold, breath puffing in frosty white clouds, your heart in your eyes and snowflakes in your hair. I will remember that single perfect moment in my life, that moment I knew I had everything I ever wanted, and whatever happens next, I will die content. What he says is simply, “Marry me.”

Where Else Would I Be? by cwb (E, 34,910 w., 10 Ch. || Retirementlock, Domestic Fluff, Falling in Love, Parentlock, Fluff and Smut, Reminiscing) – John and Sherlock’s five-year-old granddaughter spends the weekend with them in Sussex. Sherlock happily indulges her whims, and John takes care of them while quietly revisiting the past thirty years of their lives together.

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock, BAMF John) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate’s nose buried in your hair. Whilst you’re in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship’s surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there’s more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin’ the eye, he has to choose… is it a pirate’s life for him?

MARKED FOR LATER

Curlock by 88thParallel (G, 1,285 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Sherlock’s Hair, Fluff, Ficlet) – How Sherlock learned to control and appreciate the incredible gift he was born with, and the man who helped him sort it out.

Of Razors, Pipes, Red Notebooks and Rugby Jerseys, Or: Sherlock Doesn’t Like His Doctors Clean Shaven by allonsys_girl (E, 7,313 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Porn With Feelings, John’s Beard, Bottomlock, Domestics, Fluff and Smut, Banter, Declarations of Love, Rimming, Anal, Est. Rel.) – John grows a beard. Sherlock really likes it. Part 1 of Consulting Husbands

How to Sleep with Your Enemy in One Semester by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (M, 9,699 w., 6 Ch. || College / Uni Professors AU || Professor John/Sherlock, Enemies to Lovers, Rivalry, Bickering, Office Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Domestics, John’s Beard, Idiots in Love) – Visiting professors John Watson and Sherlock Holmes are longtime academic rivals — and now unwilling office mates — at a prestigious American university. When their tense arguments give way to an undercurrent of mutual attraction, their war of wits turns into something more personal — until it goes off course. A party, a phone number, and deserted office at night might just bring them back together.

[siriuslysnuffles]

Head canon: James was Lily’s first time but Lily wasn’t James’

Agree on the first part, disagree on the second. 

I’ve kind of talked about this before on my main blog and in an author note’s of one of my stories.

I don’t imagine Lily dating seriously enough in before sixth-year because I feel like Snape would have commented on her boyfriends and her boyfriends would have done the same about him, and Lily is like James in the way that she would stick by her friends until the end (unless they did something unforgivable). And she would most definitely not be the kind of girl to do it with anyone, she probably wanted to be in love when it happened.

Now to why I disagree with James. To take into account is that James was raised by older parents (who were said to be old even for their kind, and I mean Dumbledore was considered old so they were probably a decade or so older than him) and would most likely have been taught more traditional senses like waiting until marriage, courting, and the like. His parents were probably between eighty to a hundred when James was born, this means they were born anywhere between 1860 to 1880 (placing them in the Victorian Era).

The current average age of losing virginity in the UK last time I searched this was eighteen. However, James and Lily were born in the 60s and grew up in the 70s. The average age in the 60s was 22 and in the 80s it was 20 (some say 17). So the average age would be around the age James was when he was dating Lily. 

James is also loyal. I think like Lily he wouldn’t want to cross that boundary with anyone he didn’t love–whether he ended up marrying them or not. 

And my last reason is I feel like James was too busy having fun with his friends and learning to become an animagus to have anyone he would want to do that with. He doesn’t seem like the type to want a one night stand or the like. He had Quidditch, school  work, and the like. He probably went on dates and had girlfriends but nothing serious enough that he would consider sleeping with them.

send me headcanons and i’ll tell you whether i agree or disagree

[twoinchreview]

1985 Albums

Friday 20th March 2020.

On the way home from work (for the last time in a while I think, thanks Covid-19) Radio 2 played The Whole of the Moon by The Waterboys. I loved and love that song from their album, This is the Sea. I knew the album was released in 1985. It’s a year I won’t forget in a hurry for lots of reasons; the main, unbearably sad one is losing my mum, but, also, for other reasons that were not at all sad. The aforementioned album being one, another being another album - Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love. (Another was Knebworth opening its gates to music for the first time in a few years….what a gig that was!) So, did I listen to any other albums that year? I seriously couldn’t tell you, for certain, the name of any other album released in that year….with aging memory it seems to me my turntable’s time was equally divided by Mike Scott and Kate - six months apiece. I decided to check it out. A quick search on Google and the first hit I clicked was this one from the NME that lists 50 albums.

I decided to listen to each in turn, from its count of 50 down to 1. I posted a one line review on each on FB. Here are those one-liners below, with supplementary comments as and when.

50.  ABC, How to be a Zillionaire. I didn't learn that actual trick but I did learn to love Martin Fry's delivery once again.

49.  Sade, Promise. Smoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooth.

48.  Sheila E – Romance 1600. One I missed posting about of FB, probably because it was that forgettable. I can’t remember one track from it and it was only a couple of weeks ago!

47.  Alex Chilton, Feudalist Tarts. Who knew? Seriously never heard of him before!

46.  George Clinton, Some of My Best Jokes Are Friends. Funky. Another new one on me.

45. The Replacements, Tim. Never heard or heard of them b4 today. Shan't bother again!

44.  Run DMC, King of Rock. Dunno why I like this album, just do. It's like that and that's the way it is.

43.  Cameo, Single Life. I've already forgotten about it.

42.  New Order, Low Life. The first album on NME's 1985 list that properly rocks all thru. 

It’s a proper ‘of its time’ album and yet timeless. This gets the bold review ‘cos I would definitely take time out to listen to this again. First one of the NME list!

41.  Robert Wyatt, Old Rottenhat. Out there. A defo doob album.

40.  The Style Council, Our Favourite Shop. I recall this album & it's better than it was.  Weller has a voice that sometimes sounds like it’s going to break at the sterner test but then he carries it off. It adds to the originality.

39.  Sonic Youth, Bad Moon Rising. Proper industrial punk. I like it.

38.  Dexys Midnight Runners, Don't Stand Me Down. Not one track had I heard before. Fab.

I really enjoyed this. I like the fact it’s a real deviation from what I remember Dexys for - all denim and oddly-antifashion fashionable. This album showed real confidence in their own ability, quite rightly.

37.  Husker Du, New Day Rising. 'Salright.

36.  Bobby Womack, So Many Rivers. “Let Me Kiss You Where It Hurts.” 😂😂😂 Yep - the only thing I wanted to post about this album, having listened to it (like so many others, for the first time) was the name of one track which still, as I type, makes be chuckle like a school boy. Sorry Bobby.

35.  The Fall, This Nation's Saving Grace. I never really got The Fall. This album doesn't help. This post on FB attracted some comment - Ralph White (fellow Posh and music fan) was, I sensed, a little perplexed at my opinion. But, I can’t lie, the band, and Mark E Smith, just didn’t, and still don’t, do it for me. I’m too old and long in the tooth to persist. Sorry Ralph.

34.  Propaganda, A secret Wish. If you had to guess the time of this album's release from its sound, it couldn't be anything other than slap bang middle of the 80s. I mean it is sooooo eighties. It’s the sort of record that will be used for educational purposes - in history lessons.

33. Scritti Politti, Cupid & Psyche 85. I feel I should be more impressed than I am.

32.  The Pogues, Rum, Sodomy and the Lash. What an album, what a fucking album.

I listened to this while out walking and it really took me by surprise just how much I enjoyed it. Of course, I’d heard a lot of the songs before but, as a collection, along with the tracks new to me, it really stands out.  

31.  The Cure, Head on the Door. The Cure does easy listening.

30.  The Cult, Love. What's there not to love? No sudden death, just love.

Contains one of my favourite all time tracks. Can you guess?

29.  Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, The Firstborn is Dead. Interesting. Definitely a band you have to be in the right mood before the needle hits the record.

28.  David Sylvian, Alchemy: An Index Of Possibilities. Music to have acupuncture to.

By that, I mean it was very, very, very Japanese-y.

27.  Suzanne Vega, Suzanne Vega. Singer song writing by numbers.

To be perfectly blunt, I found it boring.

26.  The Smiths, Meat is Murder. The Smiths are an enigma to me. Good music, good musicians but, that condescension. Morrissey, Geldof, Thunberg....peas in a high & mighty pod.

All that being said a few days ago now, I’m sure I’ll listen to this (and maybe other a records of theirs) again. I fucking hate that it was that good.

25.  Bryan Ferry, Boys and Girls. Slick as you like. Is he the coolest man in music? I think he is.

24.  10000 Maniacs, The Wishing Chair. I can take this or leave it. When I posted this on FB there were a couple of posters encouraging me to try In My Tribe - it’s on as I type and it’s a little better.

23.  Whitney Houston, Whitney Houston. I like this debut album. What a voice she had!

22.  A-Ha, Hunting High and Low. Not bad song writing in a second language.

Nice enough album...but this band will always just be ‘nice’ and, memorable for a video, not much else. 

21.  Grace Jones, Slave to the Rhythm. A mess of an album.

Worst one on the list so far even if it has got David Gilmour playing on it.

20.  Simple Minds, Once Upon a Time. I always felt, & feel, this band are wannabes to U2's crown. Nice enough album though.

19.  The Colourfield, Virgins and Philistines. A gem of an album. 

Terry Hall reminds me of Bowie. So talented, so prolific.

18.  Everything but the Girl, Love not Money. Pleasant enough but won't be on repeat. 

17. Loose Ends, So Where Are You? Hmmmm, not quite Color Me Badd. Very Delia Smith. The Delia Smith comment was because I found this album was an embarrassment much like Delia that fateful night at Carrow Road. If you don’t know to what I am referring, Google it.

16. Killing Joke, Night Time. Great album, cracking band.

15. Tears for Fears, Songs from the Big Chair. A big collection of comfortably accomplished songs. 

The first album on the list I had definitely played, in its entirety, before...just not in 1985. 

14. Dire Straits, Brothers in Arms. By no means their best. Tbf, you’d have to go some to best a debut or 3rd or 4th albums of the quality Dire Straits had under their belt. And, a side note, I think probably the best name for a band, ever. 

13. The Sisters of Mercy, First and Last and Always. A moody, gothic masterpiece. I reckon the growling vocals are the stuff of genius and nightmares.  12.  Prince, Around the World In A Day. Prince is brilliant, this album isn't. Like a few on this list, the decade’s half-way point didn’t see his finest hour.

11. Felt, Ignite the Seven Canons. I've never heard of this band before, nor heard a single track from this album, until now. I like them, I like it.

And I reached the Top Ten....I found myself really looking forward to the next 6-7 hours of the supposed mid-80s finest.... 

10. The Jesus and The Mary Chain, Psychocandy. Mentally sweet. 

It is a great album by a seminal band but I didn’t really get on the band wagon back then, and I don’t have the time nor the inclination to now. That’s gonna piss some people off, I’m sure! 9. Microdisney, The Clock Comes Down The Stairs. Never heard of them before, probably never listen to them again.

This album left me feeling nothing. It’s the most nondescript one of the list thus far and I doubt that will change.

8. REM, Fables of Reconstruction. This band were good before they got massive. 

Fucking brilliant. I had never listened to this album before and it’s such a precursor - we all know how massive they became and one or two of their later albums were residence, for a time, in my CD player. I reckon this one could become a real favourite of mine. Not just of REM stuff but in general.

7.  Lloyd Cole & The Commotions, Easy Pieces. Easy listening and first rate easy listening, at that. 

‘Brand New Friend’ is the stand out track.   

6.  Prefab Sprout, Steve McQueen. I don’t switch the radio off if this band are played, but I never play them. This album doesn’t alter that.

5. Madness, Mad not Mad. Who'd thought the stalwart rude boys would be so innovative? Another cracker from this list. It really stood out for me, they way the band changed things up a notch with this record. I can imagine some long-time fans would have baulked at this at the time of release but now, 35 years on, it smacks of progression. I’ve just asked Alexa to play it as I’m typing. 

4.  Talking Heads, Little Creatures. A wonderful, totally original band and album. This album reminded me that I do not spend enough time listening to Talking Heads. 

3. The Waterboys, This Is the Sea. Marvellous. This is an album I know and love. So, here it is, one of the aforementioned two. It’s is still one of my favourite albums, definitely, but, just a little bit, the metaphors grate - there’s enough of the fuckers on this album - the sea, the moon, the spirit. But I will always love this album and I will revisit many more times, I wager (and hope).

2. Tom Waits, Rain Dogs. Not really a musical masterpiece, more a lyrical one.

I found this a unusual choice for number 2. That’s subjectivity for you, I’d have picked many others before this one for the runner’s up slot.

1. Kate Bush, Hounds of Love. One of my favourite ever albums. The best of 1985, maybe of the 80s, very close to of all time. It’s number 1 for the NME and it most certainly is for me.

So, I listened to all of these NME listed albums in turn and it was, in the main, an enjoyable musical journey

And I reminded myself that, in 1985, I did indeed only put two albums, that first saw the light of day in that year, on my turntable (Kate Bush and The Waterboys). Any other releases didn't get a look in.