#I’m actually embarasses by how long this is

[lucky-clover-gazette]

vent

did not expect kissing and realizing i’m lowkey dating a guy to send me down an existential spiral of reminding me that i have only one life to live and then i am going to die without living any other different lives

[moonsaver]

Context before getting into the actual idea: I recently saw some fanart based on concept art for Dr Ratio where he has slightly longer, messier hair and the fanart interpreted this as him having a bit of a rebellious phase when he was younger.

So now I’m just thinking about Reader going to school with him when he was going through this phase. He had a bit of a crush on her but didn’t know how to express it so he just messed with her constantly.

And now they meet again when he’s changed and he hasn’t gotten over her she’s just getting massive amounts of whiplash from how wildly different he is. Could be yandere 👀

Anon. I am GRIPPINT YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. Listen. Unfortunately i doubt i did this justice but i tried my best PLEASE okay

A bit long, under the cut!

Its not exactly easy to imagine Dr. Ratio of all people being rebellious, but that just makes it even more possibly believeable in my opinion. I am deeply convinced he has had his crazy scientist, jerkward asshole phase at least once and was soo deeply embarassed the moment he left it.

But listen. His professors all probably HATED him because he would probably constantly correct them, be so disgustingly overeducated to the point they'd send him to the library or tell him to get lost just so he wouldn't disrupt class. He's the infamous asshole who sits wherever he wants, and hoardes an entire table to himself if he's at the library or at the cafeteria. Any student who needs a pen or eraser or a pencil knows he's NOT the one to ask, even if it was in the middle of an exam worth half their grade and he was the only person beside them. He does literally anything he wants and no one can stop him except probably by force, and if they do, something worse ends up happening to them instead.

Anyways, here comes in reader. Probably already knows his sour reputation. Regardless, maybe you're the poor soul who's his seatmate. If the crush is already established, he's constantly bothering you. Asking for stationaries like the entirety of his desk isn't covered by it already (he likes the miniscule interaction), taking your notebooks without your knowledge and sometimes even scribbling inside of them (its his horrid handwriting, he's just trying to help you with detailed notes), he comments on how "lame" your outfit is, asking about your social life, rolling his eyes when your response isn't exactly.. pleasing (he's actually a bit content with it. Perhaps you'll hang out with him more, instead?). You note the smell of alcohol trailing him a bit everytime you interact with him.

It's not easy for him, especially when you can't seem to keep up and look so queasy around him. Aeons, his heart is so twisted up and squeezed everytime he seems to be getting more distant from you, but he just has no idea how to convey his feelings. Not when he didn't even account for the fact he'll have a crush on anyone in the first place.

Anyways, timeskip!

You're probably a researcher of some sort, maybe not so well known. Let's just say for the sake of simplicity you're a researcher on Herta's space station. It's not too soon before he runs into you, probably after the whole mess at the station's been "cleaned up" regarding the curio and whatever. Maybe he doesn't leave right after that interaction with Screwellum, and he decides to, by his curiosity, take a look around once again before he leaves (certainly not because he's heard a familiar name thrown around a few times).

And there you are. In your little research-getup, professional vernacular, hair all neat. He's probably right behind you in an instant, and you turn around to look as the colleague you were talking to suddenly starts stuttering and becoming squeamish while looking behind you. There he is, in all his (cruel?) Glory. The infamous asshole who was your classmate.

But.. it's surprising how much more mellow he's become (at least towards you?). His hair are neatly tamed, his build is taller and more muscular than it was back then, but his attire is also quite tame (if not a little.. fancy?), compared to his brash taste back then. His eyes still seem to hold contempt, but more distantly so.

Veritas figures your mouth is agape and you're speechless considering the change in his countenance as of recent. He's also not yet come to terms with the fact that his heart still twists and squeezes whenever he sees that unsure look on your face. If you were made of clay, and if he could, he'd meld the most beautiful smile on your face with his craftful fingers. Alas, he resorts to tamer methods. At least he supposes he's a wiser man, now. He's more aware of different courting methods.

He asks about your station, your current life, family, friends, etc .. in a seemingly disinterested tone. There's a bit of resignation but hidden constrain in his voice, everytime you mention a "close friend" of yours or a colleague you worked with "closely". But he hasn't been berating you the way he would have back then. His fingers slightly constantly strain, folded behind his back, trying desperately not to taper towards you – there's stray strands of hair on your face. Your headpiece is off centre. Your pen is slanting in your pocket. Your shoulders are too tense. Your eyebrows are furrowed. your eyes look tired. Have your lips always been chapped? They were fine back then.. hold on.

While you stutter out useless formalities and pleasantries, Veritas' eyes scan you over. Time has weathered you well, in his opinion. The thin line of his pressed lips dont quite indicate that. He sighs almost grimly, shutting you up in an instant. He offers you to accompany him and possibly consider joining the Intelligentsia Guild (is it not worth a shot trying? It may be foolish, but he's a tad too desperate when it comes to you). You timidly mumble out a refusal, the words barely leaving your mouth. He nods.

Catching up makes his heart squeeze and rush all over the place. Topics he once tried to teach you back then (by.. VERY unsuccessful methods,) seem to be elementary knowledge to you now. You work more efficiently, hold yourself in a better, more confident way, and you seem to be smoothsailing in your life. Granted, it's technically the bare minimum, but its been so long since he talked to you. The chirp in your voice, the chuckle you let out every now and then despite your nervousness around him, has his heart in his throat. He can't bring himself to try and even "set you straight" by giving you (unwarranted) advice or piddling your achievements, there's a soft smile he's duly hiding behind his scorning face.

He offers you again, if you are unsure about joining the Guild, and discreetly mentions it being filled with imbeciles regardless when you deny again, pulling another string of laughter out of you. Hmph, you weren't so joyful when he made those statements back in high school.

Granted,you're obviously still not quite sure about Veritas' new look. He's still got his infamous reputation as an extremely strict teacher, the oddball with an alabastor head and having worked with the IPC, it's not a pleasant image per se, but it's heaps better than his reputation back at school. You politely make a joke about it, and he groans, earning another cautious, light chuckle from you. He has become different. You prattle on about the length of his hair, his refinement of speech, the difference in how he holds himself now.. it does leave him melting a tad bit inside. You noticed it? Hm. Clever little thing.

Of course, goodbyes are seldom sweet. He does manage to pry out your contact information once again, before. If you don't budge,he finds another way regardless. Your network of colleagues aren't exactly as strong as you might have thought. He remembers this information carefully.

Like the old days, maybe he'll manage to keep slipping notes into your reports and files. Perhaps pull a few strings back in the old days to keep you in his class, he'll slowly knot and twist a few strings to bring and budge you over to his little workplace. Sooner or later, you'll end up in his home. He's sure of it.

And just like the old days, his little seatmate is by his side once again. Care to put up with him for a bit longer? Probably forever, in this case.

[sturniyolos]

Angry sex with Chris while he’s your enemy keeps me up at night.

“I fucking hate you so much.” Chris says as he’s pounding into you, choking you.

“Right back at ya.” You exclaim, arching your back.

As one would say, he was a bit “ticked off” after seeing you talk with one of the guys Chris told you to never talk to, Jason.

It bothered him that he couldn’t make a scene as everyone who knows you & him know you guys both despise each other—or so they thought.

He knew when he went to this party something enevitable was going to happen, but he didn’t expect something quite like this.

After snatching you from Jason, he found the closest unoccupied room, & that’s when everything began.

Chris slapped your cheek, you moaning as a result.

“You’re such a slut, look at you. You know how much I hate sluts.” He says, moving his hand to your waist.

“Y-you love when I’m your s-slut though.” You say, making him switch positions with you so now you’re on top.

“You wanna play smart?” Chris says, looking up at you.

“I’m not playing, I am smart.” You say, started to go up and down on his hard cock.

Both of your moans become synchronized as you kept fucking him. He loved the sight of you on top of him, your pussy gripping him, not wanting to let go.

And you loved the sight of him under you, his long dick hitting your spots that only he knew.

“I hate you so much but this pussy— Fuck.” He says, throwing his head back.

“If you weren’t such a asshole, I’d be fucking you every night.” You state breathlessly, your hand creeping to his throat to choke him.

“You don’t fuck me, I fuck you ma.” Chris states, flipping both of you again so he’s on top.

He pulls out quickly, making you pissed.

“You can’t even make a girl cum, I don’t know why you act like���“ You say, but being cut off as he turns you around and starts fucking you from the back.

You moan loudly, arching your back and gripping the sheets like your life depended on it.

“Aw, you were just talking shit now look at ya. Can’t even talk can you, mama?” He says while laughing, pulling your hair so your head is up from the sheets.

Chris pulls out his phone & starts recording. Half of the reason was to embarass you, and the other half was for him, but for “no reason in particular.” Yeah. Okay.

“Look at you— does Jason make you feel like this?” Chris asks, showing your fucked out face—your mascara smeared, your tangled hair, and the slight drool coming out of your lips.

“S-shut the fuck up and f-fuck me.” You say as you look and flip off the camera, placing your middle finger in your mouth and sucking it.

“Here, I’ll make this video more enjoyable.” You state, while he’s still recording.

“Oh my God, yes daddy— harder, faster. You fuck me so good, no one does it better than you!” You said moaning loudly, mocking him. Well— part of you was mocking him, and the other part was how he actually made you feel while he was balls deep inside you— but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You always gotta be the one to win huh?” He asks, choking you from behind.

“It’s what I do, baby.” You say, looking at the camera while biting your lip.

He stops recording and throws his phone across the room. He switched positions again so you guys are in missionary.

“D-don’t you have other b-bitches to f-fuck?” You say, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“As much as I hate you with my whole entire heart, no one’s pussy is better than yours.” He says, rubbing your clit gently.

“Always so tight, wet, it’s made for me.” He says, putting a hand on your cheek.

You take his hand, and start sucking on his thumb, neither of you guys breaking eye contact.

“Are you on the pill, yet? Please tell me you are.” He says, sounding all whiny.

“Yeah I am now, why?” You ask, feeling your orgasm coming.

“Because I’m n-not pulling out, I want you to take all m-my cum. Nah, you are going to take all cum.” He says, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“Fuck C-Chris I’m gonna-“

“Hold it.”

“I need to now-“

“I said fucking hold it.”

You were holding it in as best as you can, fighting demons at this point.

“Fuck I’m cumming, let go baby.” He says rubbing your clit ferousicly.”

You guys both cum at the same time, his head going in your neck and your hands massaging his hair. He fills up your tight hole, you giggling as a result.

He pulls out slowly, you wincing at the lost in contact. He take his pointer and middle finger and slowly puts it inside of you.

“You gotta take everything, not lettin’ any go to waste.” He says taking his fingers out, and shoving it in your mouth.

“I hate you.” You say, out of breath.

“No you don’t.” He states, laughing as he cleans you up

—————————————————————————-

[violettwrites]

a heart that knows — daryl dixon

a/n: sorry to the nonnie that requested this bcos i took forever 😭 it had been sitting in my drafts since i received it but i’ve been so focused on writing the first few chapters of dotd but here you go my sweet !

if you enjoy my writing, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment ! and give me a follow if you want to see more ! i really appreciate the support 🫶🏻

summary: daryl and reader were arguing when he moves too quickly and scares reader.

requested: anon requested ‘I would love to see something where tp!daryl and reader are arguing about something and he’s being expressive with his hands and she flinches out of instinct, and he realizes that things have gotten worse at home for her. He feels awful and ashamed so he makes it up to her by planning a special date and asks her to stay with him for a while and he promises her he won’t ever let anyone hurt her ever again. Just like super mega fluffy.’

warnings: mentions of abuse

word count: 1,056

resources: divider by @adornedwithlight

➵ mega masterlist

the sun was starting to set, casting a golden hue over the run down trailer park, and daryl’s voice echoed through the air as he paced in front of you. his hands waved in the air dramatically as he ranted about something—what, you couldn’t exactly remember. the heat of the argument had long since taken the actual topic of discussion and it had been twisted into something far deeper, emotions raw and rising between the two of you.

“ya just don’ get it, do ya?” daryl’s voice cracked with frustration, his hands slicing through the air. “i don’ understand why you gotta push me away all the time!”

the moment his hand moved to close, a reflex buried deep within you took over. you didn’t mean to flinch, but you did— just a little. the quick jerk of your body was instinctive, a reaction you’d honed after years of dodging your dad’s drunken outbursts. daryl’s hands froze mid air, his expression dropping immediately.

he saw it. he knew.

the silence between you both felt like a heavy weight. your eyes dropped to the gravel, cheeks burning with embarassment.

“i’m sorry,” you mumbled, trying to shake it off, but daryl was already moving closer, his earlier anger completely forgotten about. he reached out slowly, carefully, as if he didn’t want to startle you again. his calloused fingers brushed the side of your arm, and you glanced up to meet his worried blue eyes.

“hey…” his voice was soft now, barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to scare ya, i’m sorry.”

you nodded your head, but daryl wasn’t convinced. he could see it in the way you wouldn’t look at him directly, the way your body was still a little tense, like you were ready to flee if things went south. he swallowed hard, guilt clawing at him. he knew how you felt— life was the same for him.

“how’s… how’s your dad?” he asked, his voice rougher now, but not from anger. it was the kind of roughness that came from knowing too much, from understanding what he couldn’t fix on his own.

you shrugged, trying to keep it casual, but the walls you built up around yourself were thinner now, cracking under his concern. “he’s the same.”

daryl’s jaw tightened. he hated hearing that— how you tried to brush it off so casually. he knew “the same” meant worse, meant you were still walking on eggshells at home, trying not to provoke a man who had no right treating you— his own daughter the way he did. daryl knew about your situation from the day he had met you, but it still made his blood boil to think of anyone hurting you.

without another word, daryl pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. you melted into him, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding. his embrace was warm, solid, and safe— everything your home wasn’t.

“i hate that you gotta go through this,” he whispered into your hair. he knew it wasn’t easy, getting away from a home life like that. hell, he barely made it out alive himself. “i hate that ya flinch like that, like you’re expectin’ me to hurt ya. i’d never…”

you leaned your forehead against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your skin. “i know,” you whispered back. “i’m sorry.”

“don’ be,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “don’ you dare apologise for somethin’ that ain’t yer fault.”

you didn’t argue. there was no point. daryl could be stubborn, but when it came to you, he was also fiercely protective.

“i ain’t lettin’ you go back there tonight,” he added, his tone final. “yer stayin’ with me tonight, okay? merle’s out for the weekend. it’ll just be us.”

you blinked, caught off guard by his offer. “daryl, i can’t—“

“ya can,” he interrupted, his hands resting on your shoulders as he gazed down at you with such intensity that it made your heart race. “i don’ want ya goin’ back there. not tonight. not any night. hell, ya can stay here as long as ya want. we got room.” he was right. he and merle had finally gotten their own little trailer in the park— simply to try and avoid their own father. sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

your eyes welled up with emotion, the weight of everything hitting you all at once. “you really mean that?”

“‘course i do,” he cupped your cheeks gently, brushing a thumb over your skin. “i ain’t ever lettin’ anyone hurt you again.”

his words were more than a promise— they were a cow. you could see it in the way he looked at you, the way his rough exterior softened when he was with you. he meant every word.

a tear slipped down your cheek, but daryl wiped it away with a tender smile. “don’ cry, baby. you deserve better than all this crap.”

“i know, but—“ you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to pull yourself together. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you admitted, your voice trembling with gratitude.

“you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that,” he said, his tone gentle but full of resolve. “i ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

he gave you a small smile, and the tension between you both finally began to dissolve. daryl wasn’t much of a planner, but the next words out of his mouth were proof that he’d been thinking about this for a while.

“tell ya what,” he said, nudging you playfully. “how ‘bout tomorrow, i take you out? just us. get away from this place for a while. i’ll take ya to that diner ya like, and we’ll watch that stupid movie yer been goin’ on about.”

you couldn’t help but laugh through your tears. “you hate that movie.”

“yeah, but i like ya, so i’ll suffer through it,” he teased, and just like that, the heavy mood lifted a little more.

you reached up, standing on your toes to press a soft kiss to his lips, and daryl’s arms tightened around you, holding you close. “thank you,” you whispered.

“for wha’?”

“for making me feel safe.”

daryl kissed the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. “always, darlin’. always.”

[twistersobsessed]

more scott and boone please!!! thank youuuuu

Scott & Boone | NSFW Headcanons

Boone

Boone loves like a dog

He’s a giver, through and through

He’s typically the dominant party, but sometimes he’ll let you ride him, and he looks up at you with these big brown eyes full of reverence; he worships you

Gives absolutely phenomenal head, prefers giving to receiving but he’s definitely not one to complain if you want to suck him off

Has a thing for marking you up with hickies and bites; he’s possessive and loves to show people who you belong to

Lowkey a turn on for him when people point out the hickies he’s given you in their YouTube comments

While Boone is the dominant one in bed, he’s much more focused on worshiping your body than actually dominating you

He gets off on your pleasure

His favorite positions are ones where he can see your face; he likes to be able to watch your expressions of pleasure

He’s not incredibly kinky, he’s one to make love rather than have sex

He’s turned on by the sounds you make as he pleasures you, as well as you begging; he loves to listen to you beg

Sometimes he’ll tease you but he can never stand to do it for long, he always gives in

Makes sure you cum before he does

Hates condoms; he wants to feel you to the fullest, and there’s something especially intimate to him about cumming inside

Boone is all about eye contact; it embarasses you sometimes

Unfortunately, you’re usually having sex in motels and the walls are thin so you have to keep quiet, which sucks for Boone because he likes to hear you moan, but he stuffs his bandana in your mouth to muffle you and it’s almost equally as hot

He’s a tits man and he loves sucking titty

Has lowkey called you mommy before

Scott

This man loves to dominate, but he’s a soft dom

100% talks you through it, this man is mouthy in bed; a healthy mix of praise and degration

He has a size kink; how could he not, he’s 6’4

Likes giving head just as much as he likes receiving it

You’ve tried 69ing but you both get sloppy from pleasure so you tend to give head one at a time now

His favorite position is either mssionary or the mating press

Scott has a breeding kink, he never uses condoms

Even if you’re on birth control this man insists on trying to get you pregnant

I’m talking he’ll finish in you, pull out, and fuck the cum back into you with his fingers

Makes you overstimulated every time, but manages to pull at least one mind-blowing orgasm first

Scott’s the kind of a guy to press his hand down on your lower stomach while he fucks you and it makes you cry out every single time

He’s a tits man like Boone and loves to suck on them

Loves fingering you; no particular reason why he just really enjoys it, sometimes he’ll do it to you in the car while he’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat

Calls you “baby,” “honey,” “sweetheart,” and “princess”

Kisses you while you cum and while he cums, but he’s a pro at making you cum together

Loves to lick his fingers clean after fingering you, making direct eye contact while doing so

Sometimes he enjoys hitting it from the back so he can watch your ass, he’s not strictly a tits man

Doesn’t allow it often because he’s so dominant, but once in a while lets you ride him and looks up at you with stars in his eyes

[theemporium]

Work Christmas party with Nico Hischier?? Please and thank you 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Are you sure this looks okay?” 

“Baby—”

“Because I can change into the other shirt.” 

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to hold back your laughter, watching as the boy continued to fuss over himself in the mirror. The back and forth had been going on for the last twenty minutes or so, which would be annoying if it weren’t so endearing. 

For as long as you knew him, Nico Hischier had always been the walking personification of ‘cool, calm and collected’. Whether it was on or off the ice, it was rare to see him erratic or frazzled. He was always the one to stay composed, to be the voice of logic, to keep everything in order. 

So to see your boyfriend distressed over something as simple as your work Christmas party was honestly quite amusing.

“Nico, you look fine.” 

“Fine?” He repeated, whirling around with wide eyes. “I need to look a bit better than fine.”

You snorted, unable to hold back as you pushed yourself off where you were sitting on the edge of the bed. You made your way towards him, your cheek pressed against his arm as you looked at his hopeless expression in the mirror. 

“Baby, it’s just a small Christmas party,” you murmured, a soft smile on your lips. “There’s no need to get all worked up over it.” 

“Yeah but,” he let out a small sigh, leaning into your touch and the warmth your body provided against his side. “This is the first time I’m actually in Jersey for it. I want to make a good impression for you.”

You raised your brows. “For me?” 

“I don’t want to embarrass you,” he said, his brows furrowing when you snorted once again.

“Baby, how the fuck would you embarass me?” You asked, tilting your head back to look up at him fondly. “You literally charm everyone you meet, my coworkers will be no different. If anything, they will probably be all over you, Captain.”

His cheeks started to tint a light pink.

“Pretty sure Janet’s daughter is a Devils superfan,” you continued, watching fondly as his expression brightened a little. “She might hog you for the night.” 

“Jealous?” He teased, seeming a little more relaxed now. 

“Might have to drag you away from the party,” you retorted, squeezing his bicep a little. “The cupboards all have locks from the inside.” 

Nico’s eyes darkened. “Yeah?” 

“But that wouldn’t set a good impression, would it?” 

Nico’s lips parted. “Well, there might be a few minutes we can spare—”

“Wear this shirt, you look good,” you grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to his flushed cheeks before turning to walk out the bedroom. 

“Baby—”

“We are leaving in five minutes, Hischier!”

.

[miffysrambles]

haiii!! Thisbis my first time doing a request and im actually embarassed and prob u gonna decline it and find me weird and and- jdkgjwlej (overthinking rn)

Let me breathe before saying the embarassing request-

Could i request an Moon Goddess Reader x Wukong? (The design for reader inspired on Moonlight cookie :33 I'M A FAN FOR HER AND SEA FAIRY-) like some sun and moon stuff? It can be romantic and how they met for first time! It can be headcanons or anything you want

Again- sorry for the request im just so nervous and embarassed.

-Ander :3

[HELLO FELLOW COOKIE RUN FAN !!! it's not embarrassing at all, it's a very cute prompt !!]

[NOT PROOFREAD BC I AM TIRED]

Wukong with a Moon Goddess S/O

Wukong had first met you when you landed on one of the beaches on Flower Fruit Mountain.

Your impact caused quite a crash, being able to be heard from his hut with all the monkeys nearby freaking out from the loud noise. 

Wukong immediately went to check it out, holding an arm out in defense of the small simians behind him when he saw your form slowly sit up on the sand below you. 

When he saw it was a deity, he kept his guard up of course but something about you was just so… alluring?

He couldn't keep his eyes off your features as he slowly walked towards you, bending down to gently help you up. 

“Hey, you ok there?” His voice spoke lowly to you as you turned around, and it was like love at first sight if you could believe it!

He felt a boom in his chest as his eyes met yours, he swore he could see beyond the cosmos in your (eye-colored) pools.

Once you explained you were a moon goddess and you accidentally landed here from your magic, he decided he was gonna help ya!

Over the next few months, you stayed with Wukong on FFM (despite you could easily get back home, you two were just too curious about one another) and you two hit it off quite well. Whether it was telling each other stories or just sitting next to each other and enjoying the other's company. 

He also found your powers and magic kinda funny, it was like the complete opposite of his, just like you.

He was the light and you were the night after all. 

Despite being so different, you balanced each other quite well, you were softspoken and calm while he was just the complete opposite of that.

He loves to take you on his cloud, you both would fly through the sky and land at a random spot to star gaze.

He loved it when you talked about the cosmos, you were so passionate about them and he could listen to you talking about them for hours.

Stargazing on a random cliffside was actually the place he decided to confess, despite being the self proclaimed great sage he was BEYOND nervous.

Although it had only been about a year since you landed on FFM, he knew this was genuine love especially since he had been alive for so long.

He decided just to go for it.

Hey if you reject him, he’ll just go into hiding on Flower Fruit Mountain somewhere for the rest of eternity, easy peasy!

Wukong took a breath as he gently grabbed your face, taking your attention away from the night sky to him.

A warm smile spread across his face as he took ahold of your hands in his. 

“Hey starshine, I’m not really experienced with this sort of thing. But, I think we should take this to the next level if ya know what I mean… Because I LIKE like ya. So, what do ya say?”

Of course, you liked him as well giving him a kiss in response.

"Sorry I should have asked... Is that ok?"

A big goofy smile spread across Wukong's face as he scooped you up in his arms, nuzzling his nose against yours under the cool glow of the moon.

"Of course, that's ok moonlight, it's always ok for you to do that. In fact, you should do it again."

[oh-meretseger]

part 2 (of whatever this is) - Clean Freak

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: 18+! smut (there will be a lot more coming, I’m pouring all my fantasies into this fic lmao so bear with me), Jean being quite a pervert, fantasizing about oral, masturbation

word count: 3,4k

“You're gonna let Jean see you in THAT?!" Sasha yelled out suddenly, right after she promised to stay when Jean was coming over to your dorm to finally finish your project. You had to complete it by Friday, and it was already Wednesday, leaving you the most frustrated with Jean you've ever been. His immature approach to the whole thing made you question how he even got admission to college. The way he ignored all the work and instead kept stealing your notes, your glasses, he pulled your hair, poked his fingers between your ribs made you think he was actually a toddler in an muscular man's giant costume...

"Yeah, you're right, I can't show any surface of skin around that manchild" you glanced in the mirror, and quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants to slide over the tight shorts that covered definitely too little. Your arms were already covered in bruises due to all the damn poking, pinching and suffering Jean put you through this week. You couldn't let him target your legs next.

Since that ominous day in the library, Jean was more insufferable than ever. You had a feeling that it had to do with the multiple seconds you were kneeling on his lap, pressed up against his chest and face... And the awkward, quiet minutes after that you spent trying to hide your blood red face. You tried to ignore the heat that spread through your body whenever that moment popped into your mind, because it just left you confused.

You also tried not to look Jean into his eyes after that, if not necessary, but you could definitely sense him get ten times more irritating since.

And working on that project with him became impossible.

But you guys finally managed to arrange you and Sasha getting a two-bed dorm room together, and it seemed like the perfect, most peacful place to finally finish the project. With Sasha being there, you hoped you both would detain from bullying the hell out of each other, and actually get the work done.

"Pookie, stop covering up, just let it happen" Sasha laughed, sitting on her bed while watching as your movements became nervous. You turned to her confused. "How long are y'all going to pretend you're not into each other?"

You blushed instantly and turned away, hoping she wouldn't see you getting embarassed right away. What is she talking about?

"Sasha-" you awkwardly searched for the right words to reply, and Sasha chuckled again. "Stop being crazy. We're not into each other"

"Sure, Jan" she replied raising her eyebrows, and you let out a giggle at the joke. Although you wanted her to know how much of an insane idea it was to think that you and Jean...

"He's a damn playboy, he probably has a roaster of girls from around the campus that I definitely wouldn't fit into" you said your thoughts out loud while folding the few pieces of clothes laying around on your bed. "He's an annoying idiot anyway"

"He doesn't have a roaster of girls, actually. But I see why you would think that" Sasha smiled as she watched your movements in the mirror. "He does seem like an arrogant jock, but I've known him for years. He's a sweetheart. And there's definitely something between you two, so stop denying it to yourself, missy”

You quickly turned your back to her while quietly smiling at her words. You hoped she couldn't see, but she chuckled as she caught a glimpse of the curve of your lips in the mirror. Sasha grabbed the pair of jeans laying next to her and started changing her comfy joggers.

"He does seem arrogant, and he makes me go insane on purpose" you frowned, putting the stack of folded clothes away to your closet. "But I've only known him for a few months, so surely, you know him better"

"I do, and he's great. And don't call me Shirley" Sasha jumped from the bed, trying to use the momentum to get her butt into the tight jeans, and you bursted out laughing as you turned to her.

Your smile faded rather quickly as you saw her changing her shirt as well, as if she was getting ready to go out.

"Where are you going?!"

"Oooh sorry, Y/N, I forgot I already made plans with Hisu to go out, we're getting froyo" her eyes sparked with pure joy at those last few words, and you felt yourself shatter, instantly starting to panic.

"NO! You promised you would stay!"

"I knowww, I really am sorry" Sasha pouted, and quickly grabbed her cute little crotcheted bag on her way to the door, as you both heard a loud knock. That pout was SO fake, you knew she was doing this on purpose... Whatever her goal was. "I'll bring you a cup of that blueberry one you like, I promise"

"YOU PRO-" you froze in your place as Sasha reached the door and it swung open, revealing Jean standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Jean!" Sasha looked up at him with the most cheerful, chirping voice, as if she didn't just betray you with this evil surprise of hers. Of course, she'd made no plans to go out with Hisu whatsoever, but she did miss her, and getting multiple cups of froyo sounded like a great afternoon plan. Besides, she did want to leave you and Jean to be in private, completely alone...

"Hi, are you not-"

"No, no, no, I've got EXTREMELY important places to be" Sasha cut Jean off as she grabbed him by his jersey, then yanked him through the doorway and into the room. You stood there in shock, watching her leave you, with him, to suffer.

"Sasha!"

"Bye, pookies!"

BANG. The door slammed shut behind her, and you two were left there, completely alone. Your eyes darted to him, and Jean adjusted the jersey on his chest that Sasha nearly ripped apart a few seconds ago.

He was clearly coming from hockey practice, you could tell not only by the oversized jersey he wore, but also by the way his hair looked. It was messy, a few ashy brown strands sticking to his temple, wet with sweat, although it seemed like he did try to quickly comb it back. His face was flushed, the skin on his cheekbones and nose dusted with a reddish tint, his lips plump and wet from the empty water bottle he held in his hand. Your eyes wandered to the stubble on his sharp jawline, fading down to his neck. The skin slightly glistened from sweat, the muscles creating lines of shadow as he raised his head...

"The hell's wrong with her" he murmured frowning, looking up to see you staring right at him. As the hazel eyes met with yours, the heat forming in your center turned into a definite warm, tingling sensation between your legs, and you felt yourself starting to melt.

What. The. Hell.

There's no way you're getting wet at the sight of this idiot, dripping with sweat, smelling like a boy's locker room.

"I don't know, she's in silly goose mode today" you quickly shrugged and turned your head to break the few moments of silence of you looking into each other's eyes. Jean held back a smile forming on his face, and he dropped his backpack on the rug next to your bed.

"Sorry for being late, practice lasted a little longer than I expected" he apologized, throwing himself on the end of your bed without a second thought. You instantly felt your stomach drop at the thud, and turned to see the most horrific sight you could ever imagine.

Jean's sweaty, dirty body laying on your clean, white bedsheets.

"JEAN!"

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Jean yelled out, half-laughing from the element of surprise, as he tried to defend himself from your immediate attack. You jumped on the bed and started pushing his body down with all the strength you could gather. "AGH, you're breaking my ribs, you rat!"

"Get off of my bed, you're fucking dirty!" you groaned as Jean put his big ass palm on your forehead, trying to get you off of him. An intense wave of anger fueled your effort to move the sweaty body twice as big as yours. "You're getting your sweat all over my stuff!"

"You should be grateful for any bodily fluid of a man touching your stuff" Jean laughed, and moved his palm to cover and smush the whole of your face, when you decided that pushing with your hands was not enough, and started bullying his ribcage with your knee. Your shouts were muffled by his hand pressed into your face, but instead of giving up, you decided to let your teeth do the talking for you. "AARGH!"

Jean's muscles lost their defensive tension due to the  sharp pain of your teeth sinking into his palm, and taking adventage of his momentary weakness, you pushed him as hard as you could. His body rolled over and landed on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

"You're fucking insane" Jean pushed himself to slowly sit up, examining his other hand that you injured with a painful hiss leaving his mouth.

"PTUH, did you not wash your hands after digging in dirt?!" you growled at him, trying to spit out the dirty taste his hand left in your mouth. But that's what you get for biting him, you guessed.

You frantically started brushing off your face when you realized, it was not only your mouth that Jean's dirty palm got smushed into, but also the precious skin of your face.

"Yeah, I jerked off with that hand after that, hope you like the taste" Jean scoffed at you, but the smug look on his face quickly turned into an honest burst of chuckle as he watched you stick out your tongue, trying to get him out of your mouth by the little spitting sounds you were doing.

"You're a prick"

"And you're clinically insane, but here we are" he replied, then pushed himself from the floor to stand up. You followed his actions, then stepped to your closet as you shook your head.

"Here" you threw your largest oversized t-shirt you could find in his direction, and he reached to catch it, followed by the clean towel tossed to his chest. "You can take a shower here"

"A shower?"

"You will NOT rub your sticky body all over my bed" you crossed your arms, looking over to him. You could feel your lips curve into a smile, seeing the confused look on his face, still flushed from running from practice and of course brutally fighting with you. Confusion on that smug face of Jean's was a rare sight to see.

And it was kinda cute.

Huh?

You quickly shook your head to get rid of the stupid thoughts, and pointed your finger in the direction of the bathroom of your dorm. "You stink"

"Get off my back, I'll sit on the chair then" Jean gestured towards the only chair in the room, being Sasha's comfy rolling desk chair - which she definitely didn't want smelling of a dirty, sweating man. You shook your head. "C'mon, I skipped showering and dropped off my stuff at my dorm just to get here in time because of your bitching ass!"

"Don't care, didn't ask" you replied with a snarky, forced smile, and tossed a pair of Connie's sweatpants to him. He lended it to Sasha a few days back, after she yeeted a bucket of chocolate ice cream into her lap at Connie’s and Jean’s dorm.

"Thanks, dipshit" Jean grimaced right back at you, and accepting his loss, turned his back to you to walk into your bathroom. You couldn't help staring at the broad shoulders, his wide back muscles moving under the jersey as he moved, just like his glute muscles under the sweatpants that became visible where the jersey rode up... "Hey, these are my sweats!"

"Tell Connie, he's the one giving away your stuff" you replied with a smirk. "You're welcome, by the way"

Jean shut the door behind him, and you threw yourself on your bed, burying your face in your hands. What the actual fuck is happening in your head?

Jean in your bathroom, on the other hand, was not so confused by his feelings as you were by yours.

He stood in front of the sink and lifted the shirt you gave him up to his face. He closed his eyes as the familiar smell of you filled his nose. It was a clean, kind of a sweet scent, that he knew exactly from all the times he got into your face, bullying you to insanity in the past few weeks.

He smiled to himself at the thought, and threw the clean clothes on the edge of the sink. It was a small bathroom, full of a bunch of shampoo bottles, cream jars, serums, pots, and whatever other girly products he couldn't identify to save his life. There was not much room to put any of his stuff.

Jean started taking his clothes off, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. You were kinda right, he did look dirty. His hair was a mess, a few strands dripping of sweat and stuck to his face and neck.

He saw you staring at it when he caught your eyes after Sasha left.

Maybe you thought of him the same way he thought of you? The way he still saw you as a stuck up little nerd, but found you more and more attractive the more he got under your skin, just turned him on so much. More than anything. Maybe it was because your angry moments made your tough, icy shell break, that you specifically made just to hide from him. And under that shell, you were not the mousy dork you wanted him to see.

His dirty, sweat-drenched clothes dropped on the tile floor one by one, as Jean got completely undressed. He saw you getting flustered more and more frequently, when you two were close to each other. He wondered if you thought of him getting naked in that small bathroom right now.

You absolutely did. You felt your cheeks growing warm under your palms, as you laid there, face still buried in your hands, Jean getting undressed on the other side of the door being the only thought in your mind. You wanted to stop the thoughts, but they sent waves of warmth down your body, making you throb in your panties...

And it felt good.

You've been denying the pleasure of letting these thoughts flow free for weeks now. You gave up. He was within a few feet from you, and he was probably already naked.

Jean grabbed the clean towel, and swiftly looked around to find a place to put it, where it'll be within reach from the shower. There was a wicker basket half-full of clothes, with a familiar pair of socks thrown on the top, covered in small little teddy bears. That was definitely Sasha's. Next to it was what looked like another laundry box. That must be yours.

Jean stopped for a moment. Instead of simply using it as a temporary towel holder, he stepped closer to the box and slowly lifted the lid.

Yes, it was definitely yours.

After a quick glance at the closed door, he carefully reached into it, pulling out a familiar lilac top of yours. He remembered it, because it was quite a tight one, not like your usual baggy t-shirts that you liked to hide under. This one top made it hard for him not to look at the round outlines of your perfect tits, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. Jean lifted the top to his nose, getting a whiff of your sweet scent.

Jean felt like such a fucking pervert at that moment. There has never been a need for him to get creepy, he could basically get any girl he wanted. There was not one time when he felt called to stalk on anyone, or act out of line, being in their bathroom and smelling their used clothes.

Dear lord.

He almost, almost convinced himself to cut it off, and just take a shower. But as he reached to drop the lilac top back in the box, a pair of panties caught his eye on top of the laundry. Fuck.

Jean already felt himself getting hard as he pulled out the soft piece of fabric, and felt it between the tips of his fingers. It was a simple cotton pair, with a blue little bow at the top. Jean closed his eyes, imagining the bow sitting right above your little pussy, and blood flowed into his groin, his cock getting rock hard in no time.

He let out a quiet sigh as he imagined how your wet folds must taste just as sweet and salivating as you smelt. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was extremely wrong... But he also couldn't stop now.

Jean wrapped his fingers around his hardened cock, and jerked himself a little bit while thinking of how he would lick and tease your little clit through this soft fabric. His tip started glistening with precum as the thought of you moaning in pleasure filled his mind. Your eyes would be looking into his, your long eyelashes blinking down at him, practically pleading him to pull the panties aside and lick your wet, creamy center.

"Holy shit" Jean whispered with a quiet, low groan and hesitated for a moment, before wrapping the pair of panties around his achingly hard cock. He had to gather all his strength to hold back his moans as he started to slide them up and down on his shaft. This is so wrong.

But he so desperately wanted to be inside of you.

He bit down on his lower lip, tightening your panties around the head of his cock. The precum leaking from the tip started to form a wet little patch on the fabric. The softness of it, your smell still lingering in his nose and overwhelming his senses, the image in his head of your legs spread wide open for him... It just felt so fucking good.

Jean started to let out a few quiet sighs as he let himself enjoy the thought of eating you out, then the whole of his body jerked in shock as a loud knock on the bathroom door stopped him in his tracks.

"Jean, what the hell are you doing? Quit admiring yourself in the mirror and get in the shower, we don't have all day" you yelled through the door. It took you multiple seconds to talk yourself out of peeping through the keyhole.

Jean quickly dropped the panties back into the laundry box and closed the lid. You heard the shower start running in no time, and you threw yourself on the bed again, as if burying your face in the pillows made all your dirty little thoughts of him go away. You imagined as water ran down on his skin, wetting his hair, dripping from his most sensitive parts...

"Holy fucking shit, I'm out of my mind" you murmured into the pillow, and cursed Sasha for leaving you to suffer in this situation.

And for being so right about you being into him.

In little less than ten minutes, the bathroom door swung open and with a cloud of hot steam around him, Jean appeared wearing the clean clothes you gave him. You sat up on your bed, and instantly bursted out laughing at the sight.

His own grey sweatpants obviously fit him right, but the large t-shirt you lended him was so tight around his chest and shoulders, it looked like it was moments from tearing apart. Not to mention the length of the shirt on his tall frame left the lower part of his stomach completely uncovered.

"I like your crop top, babygirl" you grinned looking up at his face, and Jean frowned, but you could see the glimpse of the smile he was holding back. You forced yourself to ignore the wetness you felt spreading in your panties as you looked at his happy trail peeking from under your shirt. The V-line formed by his hips lead your eyes right down to the crotch of his sweatpants, and you felt yourself blush again.

This was going to be a misery, that was for sure.

"Shut up, clean freak" Jean growled and occupied his well deserved place on the end of your bed.

[chalkscrub]

more oc-tober stuffs, featuring all my story/lore-heavy ocs and sonas

day 9: relationship. thomas thomas and lucille - sphinx siblings having a chat. sphinxes are weird demonic critters that are randomly born in the place of a normal animal's litter. they don't have a sense of identity or society on their own, so they steal from humanity, and usually make a mockery of it. lucille is normally very kind and doting towards thomas thomas, which is a huge insult to him - he usually ends up losing control and attacking her, and it's even more embarassing when he gets heavily dunked on. and yet, he would be inconsolable if she died, while she wouldn't bat an eyelid. little weirdoes!

day 10: personality.

me: man I really need to cut back on how long I’m spending on oc-tober so I can actually finish it

also me: hrhmmmm I simply don’t know what to do with the personality prompt….wait a tick, why don’t I make a silly headshot for every single one of my ocs (42 in total) and try to showcase their personality (42 personalities for 42 characters) in each one (numbering 42 individual characters altogether)

Moral of the story: none

[sarahisslytherin]

fools in love || r.b.

summary: your marriage to regulus has been arranged meticulously by walburga in order to secure a pureblood, slytherin wife for her youngest son. you make a lovely couple but you doubt he will ever grow to love you the way you have grown to love him.

contains: some light angst with a fluffy ending.

a/n: i know it's short, just a little something to ease back into the writing mindset.

12 grimmauld place is frozen in time this late at night. the halls are empty, the staircase lit only by bits of moonlight. tomorrow there will be light in these halls. there will be music and laughter. there will be rare displays of affection; the embrace of an estranged brother, the grave look of a mother. you will wear white and regulus will take your hand. but for now, the only light in dark grimmauld place is coming from the small flame on your bedside table.

your marriage to regulus had been arranged meticulously by walburga in order to secure a pureblood, slytherin wife for her youngest son. you made a lovely couple, you must admit, complimenting each other in ways you wouldn’t have expected of such a forced relationship. you’re sure regulus is pleased with you, but you doubt he will ever grow to love you the way you have grown to love him. 

now you sit up in your bed and shiver. half from the cold, half from the nerves. your eyes fix upon a corner of the room as your head runs wild with worry. will this marriage last? is regulus only in it to please his family? how long will he tolerate you before he realizes he wants someone he can actually love? 

you stand and slip on your robe, which billows as you pace barefoot into the hall. your candle lights the way to regulus’ door, the flame doing little to fight the cold. after two hesitant knocks comes a long pause, and you’re already turning to leave when the door finally opens. 

“to what do i owe the visit?” he smirks as he takes you in, examining your disheveled state. he steps aside and you waste no time marching into the dimly lit bedroom.

“we can call off the wedding if you want.” you blurt out. “we can call it all off.”

his brows furrow in confusion. “what? why would i want that?”

“reg, you don’t have to pretend with me.” you plead, taking his cold hands in your own. “what good will we be if we aren’t both in love?”

at this, his hand drops from yours to instead pinch the bridge of his nose. “i knew this would happen.” he sighs as he sits at the edge of the bed. 

“you did?” you ask in disbelief, kneeling in front of him and brushing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. “i just don’t think we should go through with this. do you?”

“i don’t know.” he sighs, clearly at a loss for words. “i don’t know what i was thinking. i supposed you’d just fall in love over time, or at least grow fond enough of me to make this work. but i see that simply won’t happen and i understand. i’ll go speak with mother first thing in the morning, call the whole thing off.”

you watch as he puts his head in his hands, his breathing growing ragged and heavy.

“reg, i- that’s not what i meant.” you rasp. “i’m certainly in love with you, i only thought you didn’t feel the same.”

regulus gives you an expression somewhere between shock, pain and embarassment. “it seems only i can be madly in love for months and not let the person know till the wedding.” you can’t help but chuckle at that, sitting beside him on the bed as you gently pry his hands from his face and into your lap. “i thought you knew.” he sighs.

“and i thought you knew.” you smile, a bittersweet tear streaming down your cheek.

“what fools we are.” regulus laughs into your neck, his lashes brushing against you. 

“we are all fools in love.” you say before meeting his gaze. “i’m your fool, regulus.”

“and i yours.”

taglist: @velvetcloxds @oliverwoodmarrymepls @canibeoneofthepogues @leahsficemporium @saintlike78 ​ @sereinegemini ​ @imabee-oralizard ​ @sheraayasher ​ @mendesxruel ​ @gilmore-angel ​ @cupids-crystals ​ @amourrs

[redr0sewrites]

I’m obsessed with your hazbin stuff rn it’s incredible

idk how much you could write for this but you write a bit about sub vox after you finish fucking him. so basically just vox aftercare. I don’t think he’d be super into non-sexual touch but I think while in subspace/while coming out of it he would be super clingy and touchy.

I’ve been thinking about taking care of a fucked out vox for a while and I’m obsessed with the image.

thank you in advance and have a nice day <33

YESSSSS!!!! im a huge sucker for aftercare ♥️

🥀Cw: fluff, aftercare, mentions of smut but nothing explicit, bathing

listen, no matter what type of sex yall are having, whether its rough and fast or slow and soft, vox always ends up exhausted

after subbing vox is always clingier than usual, but he's also a lot more emotional than usual

wipe off his tears, wait for him to calm down and just let him cling to you before even starting the aftercare process

vox just needs to be held for a few minutes as he slowly begins to become slightly coherent

i don't see him as the type to want to talk much after sex, he'll mumble a little request or an "i love you" here and there but thats about it

vox pretty much melts into your touch, and he wants you to take care of him

he very rarely feels taken care of, and hes so stressed out most of the time that it just feels very foreign to him

when it comes to actually cleaning up after sex, vox is normally still too deep into subspace to do much

hes always overstimulated, and will def glitch out when you wipe off his thighs and clean him up

vox loves the intimacy of just laying back while you wash the slick off his thighs with a warm towel, pressing soft kisses to his screen and praising him as he comes out of subspace

he needs your praise and reassurance, especially when you were rough or mean to him

he'll try to be nonchalant and ask you if you really meant all the degrading things you said, but you can tell that vox's genuinely insecure about what you think of him

praise him and tell him you're so proud of him, tell him how he took you so well and how he's your good bot

vox is too incoherent and embarassed to reply but he clings a little closer to you and his screen flushes to a warmer pink

a lot of the time vox's claws will rip up the sheets and blankets, he feels bad about it but he can't control it in the moment so he'll try to help you out with setting the bed even though his legs are shaking and he's still barely coherent

PLEASE just shush him and tell him you can handle it, then run him a warm bath

considering vox is rich af ur bathtub is def big enough for the both of you, and he enjoys just laying with you in the warm water

he likes to admire all the marks you give him in the mirror, he adores seeing the hickeys and scratches on his skin

like i said he's not much of a talker after sex but he doesn't mind listening

he'll play with your fingers or trail his hand up and down your arm as you talk to him about your day

when you're both all cleaned up and relaxed, i think he'd (secretly) like it if you dressed him

theres something so intimate about you buttoning up his night shirt, giggling and pressing kisses to his screen as he pouts at you

vox pulls you on top of him when you guys are cuddling so that he can wrap his arms around you!

by this point he's def more coherent and out of subspace so he's not as clingy, but still wants your touch (if that makes sense lmao)

like he's too prideful to cling to you or ask you to hold him but really wants to be held

he'll pout when you spoon him but the fact that he practically melts into your touch betrays his true feelings

vox sleeps like the dead after being fucked and mornings after sex are the few mornings he actually sleeps in

overall, post sex vox is a side thats much softer than usual, and truly shows how much he loves and trusts you

pushing through these long ass work days yall- tmrws my last day so i'll be posting more next week!!!!!!! i need to write more fluffy stuff w vox its come to my attention that i literally only write nsfw for him 😭

[sturniyolos]

The thought of nerd Matt being submissive makes me lose sleep.

“What do you want?” You ask Matt, sitting on his lap, pulling away from your heated makeout.

He starts blushing— embarassed to say what he actually wants. Born to say, “ride me until I can’t give you anymore cum” but forced to say “I want you.”

“You want me?” You ask lifting his chin up to look at you. He starts nodding fast. His fucked out look made him even more desirable.

His pink plump lips, his half unbuttoned shirt, love bites all over his neck, and his glasses still on the bridge of his nose.

“You gotta say somethin’ before I stop, you want me to stop?” You ask, looking down at him.

“N-no!” He says, holding your hips to make sure you don’t leave.

“So beg for it, what do you want?” You ask more sternly.

“Please f-fuck me. Please?” He asks, his words getting quieter and quieter everytime he spoke.

“There you go, good job baby.” You say, unbuttoning his shirt.

Matt always grew up being submissive, wondering what was wrong with him. He always did what everyone wanted, he never questioned them and just went along with it. And you loved that about him.

You always found Matt attractive, and one day you asked him out and he shyly said yes. He didn’t know how far this relationship would go, but now you’re in his room, making him beg you to ride him.

“I haven’t fucked you in so long, love.” You say, pulling into a kiss. Small, low whimpers leave his mouth. He starts gripping the bedsheets next to him, almost about to release in his pants. You start taking off his pants, so he’s left in his underwear. You look down and see the print, and you almost start drooling.

When you and Matt first had sex, you were in shock for at least a couple of days as you didn’t believe how huge he was. You even asked him if you could ride him everyday just because he was that addicting.

“D-do you think they’ll c-catch us?” Matt asks, in between kisses. Matt’s biggest fear is always Nick and Chris walking in, seeing him just to listen to his girlfriend like a dog.

“Who cares, baby? If they do, they’ll know how good I fuck you.” You say, slipping your shorts and panties off. You start pulling down Matt’s underwear very slowly. He starts breathing heavier, bucking his hips in order to help you go faster.

“Did I tell you to do that?” You look up at him with disbelief.

“I’m sorry. I just w-want you.” He says looking down, fixing his glasses that is about to fall off. You look down and finally get his underwear off. His tip is beating red, with precum oozing out of his slit.

“Oh my gosh, mmmm. I’ll never get tired of you.” You say to yourself, kissing his tip so gently. He starts whimpering, needing anything more than this.

“Ride me raw, please.” He says quietly, hoping you heard.

And you did hear. You just wanted to hear it again.

“What was that baby?” You say, rubbing your thumb over his tip.

“R-ride me raw, p-please.” He says, basically pleading at this point.

You and Matt always used protection, as he was very cautious on not wanting an accident to happen. But, this time he was so desperate— he wanted more.

“Yeah? You want it?” You ask, slowly getting up and pulling yourself on his lap.

“P-please, I’ll do anything.” He states whimpering.

“You’re so pathetic for me, I love it.” You state, grabbing the base of his cock and sliding down.

You both gasp at the feeling, Matt knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the sheets next to him.

“F-fuck, you’re so big.” You say, completely bottoming out.

You sit still and you feel Matt twitching inside you already, not daring to make eye contact.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You ask, choking him slightly.

“If I-I do, I will cum really fast. I don’t w-want to c-cum yet.” He says, looking up at you with his signature “fuck me” eyes.

You start slowly bounching on his cock, him feeling how truly wet you are. He takes matters into his own hands and removes your [his] sweater, revealing you wearing nothing underneath. He starts sucking your left tip, you moaning as a result.

“Baby, you’re so big I don’t know if I can take it— oh my God.” You say, your wetness getting all over his cock, his thigh, his bed, everywhere.

“Please don’t stop. Oh my God. Y-you’re so tight.” He says, his head hitting the headboard of his bed.

Matt was getting closer and closer to release, but his number one rule: “You need to cum first before I do.” And he always stuck to that rule, but this time he doesn’t even know if he’ll make it.

“You gonna cum soon, baby?” You ask, taking his glasses off and putting on you.

He almost cums at the site of you wearing his glasses, your fucked up hair, your titties bouncing, and your make up half off.

“You h-have to cum first.” He states, mouth slightly open.

“If you cum first, you’ll make me cum.” You state, hands on his stomach.

“I’ll t-tell you when to get o-off.” He says, getting closer and closer to his release.

“No. You’re cumming inside me. I want you to fill me up. I want you to make me a mommy baby. Fill me up, baby please.” You say, knowing damn well he’s gonna cum soon.

And you were right, he moans loudly, filling up your tight hole.

Then, you reached your climax. Your juices getting all over his cock, slowly riding him to finish yourself.

“You’re so good to me, baby.” You state, kissing his neck up and down.

——————————————————————————

[writingsfromhome]

The Golden Years

A/N: really liked this song the first time I heard it and decided to write something based off of it!!

——————————————

5 years ago:

The halls were noisy with the rush of the bell; the day had ended and everyone was eager to get home on the spring Friday. I sit in the music room with my guitar, strumming softly trying to get the tune out of my head.

The music room had the familiar woody smell, I never really knew if that was from the furnishing or all the instruments but I never got tired of it.

The only other people here are Thomas who’s napping after skipping his last class and the music teacher who’s setting up the class for next week’s lesson. He liked me and by extension allowed me to linger in his class after school. And sometimes let my mates stay hidden from hall monitors.

I wave goodbye to him as he finishes up, wishing him a good weekend. He just misses y/n walking in.

Y/n y/l/n. She moved down the road from me a couple years ago and she was always fascinating to me. She’d made friends her first few months here and stuck with them—those same friends hated my friends for various reasons but they always gave me an excuse to interact with her albeit in an annoying way.

Y/n was known to win out the lead for any play our school has put on. She had an infectious energy and I’d spent every moment she caught my eye gazing at her—not that I’d admit it if anyone ever asked.

She spots me and smiles, I remember to smile back at the last minute, shocked that she was acknowledging me with one. We hadn’t been nice to each other in a while; the circles we ran in loved to hate each other.

“Hey Harry,” she walks up to a nearby desk and perches there. “Whatcha working on today?”

I try to compose myself, “hey. Y/n. Uh I’m just trying something out. Something new.”

“Can I hear it?” She asks, her eyes alight with a genuine interest. It catches me off guard again.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I asked didn’t I?!”

“It’s really rough.”

“That’s okay,” she shrugs. She makes herself more comfortable.

“Really rough I-“

“Please?”

With a bat of her eyes I’m putty. I take in a deep breath—here goes nothing. Or if anything this would just be one more thing her friends could make fun of me for. Maybe that’s why she was here.

I strum her what I’d been working on for the last hour and hum along. She listens intently, her expression shifting and opening up as the chords change. Being me and nervous, I end it on the wrong note and nearly poke my eye out with the neck, making an awkward save as I set it down on my lap.

She sits quietly after the production, back straight and gazing out the window with a relaxed smile.

“I know you said that’s rough but that was amazing.” She says to me. “You’re actually bloody talented Harry.”

“Aw uhm well thanks,” I mumble. My cheeks feel on fire. I rarely played for people like this. If they were around while I worked on pieces that was alright but I’ve never had an audience of one.

“No really! You have a gift how long you working on?”

“The day.”

“The day!” She shouts and her enthusiasm makes me laugh. I don’t know why she was being so nice to me but it fills me with a buzzing joy. “You have such a way with your music like each strum is a new part of a story. It’s good! I can imagine it in a movie.”

I blush harder, “Thanks I um…I really enjoy it. Sometimes it’s easier to express myself with this than with…with like a conversation?”

She nods in understanding, “Y’know you should share your music. Start a channel or something online and post stuff! Like covers—people love covers-“

“I don’t really like to sing.”

“But I bet you’re good at it too?”

“Uhm nah I’m-“

“Don’t get shy on me now!” She nudges me and I swear I feel it linger even after she moves her hand away. “You’re such a tough jerk in the halls when you’re picking on my friends don’t go soft now.”

I laugh until I’m doubled over, part overjoyed and part embarassed because it was true. I don’t know why I was suddenly being shy.

“I’ve got to warm up my vocal cords,” I touch my throat once I’m done laughing. She grins. “I can’t sing right now.”

“I’ll hear it one day. I’m holding you to it.” She points a finger at me. “You should be performing this stuff.”

The idea of performing outside the walls of the music room felt both exciting and daunting. But the earnestness in y/n’s eyes give me a sense of courage.

"Maybe," I shrug. "I've never really thought about it.”

"Well, maybe it's time you did," she suggests gently. "Don't let your talents stay hidden."

“Yeah,” I smile. “Makes sense coming from you.”

“What’s that mean?” She raises a brow.

“Our year wouldn’t be blessed with all your productions, you’ve got natural talent too.”

“Yeah well,” now it’s her time to blush. “I really enjoy it.”

“I know.” I say. She catches my eye and a tender fondness passes between us.

“Anyway, I promised Clara I would braid her hair before her football match so I’ve got to go. But…it was nice talking Harry.”

I watch her go and I can’t wipe the dopey smile off my face the rest of the weekend.

5 years later:

I didn’t think I would see her here. After all, she lived across the pond these days and had rsvp’d as a maybe.

But there she stands with the same group of friends that surrounded her even back then. They’re all a little older, grown into people their secondary selves could only imagine becoming. But even now, they’re faceless next to her; she commands all my attention.

She looks stunning in a simple blue bridesmaid dress and her hair grown down in waves. The wind lifts her hair and she looks as majestic as the first day my eyes landed on her. As radiant as every day I’d been with her afterwards. She was golden sunshine and every minute I got to spend with her had been golden too.

Four years since I last saw her. Those four years had gone by in the blink of an eye; it had been fun ‘til it hurt.

I feel a surge of emotions—longing, regret, and the tiniest speck of hope. They compete for dominance as I indulge studying her for a moment longer and just as I look away her head lifts, catching my gaze for the briefest second.

My heart races.

I turn and wander to where my mates pass a football around. Just like we used to. Some things never changed.

Some things did.

“You see her yet?” Thomas asks.

“D’you not see the look in his eye?” Abe, his twin brother, asks.

“Yeah I saw her,” I interrupt before they wheedle me for how I looked. I could imagine it, the regret and sorrow etched into my face. “It’s been four years I’ve already told you lot I’m over it.”

My friends glance at each other.

“I am.” I insist.

“The lady doth protest—ow!” Ramo rubs his chest where I’d tossed the football.

“Where’d this even come from?” I nod to the football.

They shrug, “Some kid had it. We stole it from him.”

I sigh and look around the space. One of our best mates from secondary was getting married to Hailey, one of Y/N’s mates. That’s why half of our class was here a short walk from where we all went to school.

The reception should have started a half hour ago but the couple were stuck in traffic. Apparently. So all the guests have been entertaining ourselves and that meant stealing footballs from children.

“What happened to that lady you were supposed to bring along?” Abe asks.

“Lady?” I ask.

“Yeah wasn’t she a few years older than you?”

I repress the urge to sigh, the same as when we were school boys these friends never stopped teasing each other. Of course I also did my fair share but the trick was to never let them know it cut too deep.

“We ended things a while ago,” I say as if it doesn’t poke at an old wound to say.

A while ago was two weeks ago when she found out my ex would be at the wedding and I had sent a text to the best man clarifying if she would be there. She had seen the message and gone batshit, talking about trust and about being emotionally closed off. It was hours of arguing into the night before she’d left home. We’d broken up the next day.

The old wound was feeling like I was never going to find love like I did with her. With Y/N. Every relationship I’d had since crashed and burned worse than a Nascar vehicle with faulty mechanics.

If I would've known those were the golden years, I would have done things so differently.

But for the last two weeks instead of pathetically staring at pictures with my ex and wondering if I should call her to make up, I was pathetically looking at the polaroids of Y/N and I that I kept in an old box. I wondered what happened to the ones she had, if they had gone up in flames or if they lived in a shoebox under her bed.

My attention’s snagged by the boys elbowing each other and glancing at me and then behind me. I turn just in time for y/n and a couple of her friends to walk up to us.

I try to play it cool but I don’t know how I look; probably like a deer in headlights, and y/n is the bright stark headlights.

But her eyes slide off of me and onto the group and it feels like I’ve become the deer after the headlights have blinked out of sight.

“If it isn’t the poor four,” one of y/n’s friend uses our nickname from school. “And who’s this?”

“Dinis,” Dinis puts the football down and extends his hand to Clara. We watch them flirt.

“Didn’t you know Dinis in college?” Abe asks.

“Clara moved away in college,” y/n says smiling at the interaction happening in front of us. “Obviously she hasn’t felt the Dinis-effect yet.”

Her friend and her laugh.

“Oi Y/N haven’t seen you in a minute how’s the Angel City?” Ramo asks.

“You mean the city of angels?” Y/n raises a brow and the group laughs again. I’m too mesmerized watching her talk, seeing her alive and in person in front of me to catch the joke in time so I smile along with the group. “It’s cool, always something to do. But I don’t actually live there anymore I moved out of the city last year. Get some breathing room.”

My heart skips a beat. “I heard the city’s as rammed as ours.”

I anticipate her attention, us locking eyes, something passing between. When our eyes do meet I feel a rush of familiarity and uncertainty.

And she simply glances like I’m just another bloke to her, nods, and the looks back at the group. “Yeah sometimes even worse if you can believe.”

Someone else asks another question but my head is filled with a loud buzz. Reality feels like it crushes me down as easy as an aluminum can; I was spared a glance. She spared me a glance. That’s all I was to her?

“Where d’you think the newlyweds are?” Clara asks.

“Traffic,” Abe rolls his eyes.

“Think fast,” Thomas suddenly shouts and the football is whizzing past me towards Clara. We watch in horror as it hits her with a thwack in the chest.

“What the fuck Thomas!” Clara holds her hands out as she stares at the dirt staining her blue dress. “What the-“

“That’ll come off,” Clara’s friends assure her. “It’s not mud don’t-“

“Here,” suddenly Denis is beside her and holding out his hand. “I’ll help you clean it off.”

“What the hell mate?” I look at Thomas. He’s flushed and looking scared. I’m too busy looking at him to notice Clara’s pitched the ball back at him and it hits him in the side of the head, knocking some sense back into him.

“Nice one.” Someone mutters.

“I’m sorry!” He finally finds his voice as Clara walks away with Dinis.

“You’ve got shite all over your hair,” Abe points out to his brother.

“I’m outta here before I’m next,” y/n’s other friends starts to back away to the group they were in previously.

“Where?!” Thomas starts rubbing it off which only spreads it further into gelled hair.

“Let’s go,” Abe hauls his brother away with an arm locked around his neck, tussling the dirt in his hair as they go.

“So…” Ramo looks between y/n and me, scratching the back of his head. “That was crazy. I should return this ball to…”

He trails off, walking away from the two of us. Which wouldn’t have been as awkward except he just left a cloud of awkward in his stead.

“Y/N,” I say softly like I was approaching a feral pup.

“Harry,” she replies, her tone polite yet distant, a subtle barrier between us.

“I don’t think they’ve changed much,” I act like I wasn’t aware of everything unspoken.

She smiles politely. “Nope. Just as boyish as the day we all met.”

“That wasn’t our proudest moment-“

“Yeah you boys thought you could beat us girls at British bulldog.”

“Little did we know,” I shake my head. We’d been badly beaten and battered by the girls’ team. We didn’t take to losing very well back then.

“If only we knew then what we know now.”

I look over at y/n; it felt like she was saying one thing but meant something else. Something that sounded close to reminiscing about us.

But with how she was acting it made me feel like I’d made us up. Was it never that serious for her?

“Wouldn’t have fucked up so much?” I ask.

“Yeah something like that,” her lips tip into a half smile. She still hasn’t looked me in the eye for more than a second. I missed those eyes. I missed the way they used to look at me.

“How’s the acting?” I ask. I wait for her to look at me, acknowledge me more than she did. Wait to see if alone together there would be more meaning in the looks we exchange but she stays facing forward.

“It’s slow right now. I haven’t been booking much this season which is why I was able to make it to this.”

“Sorry to hear that,” look at me I want to say instead.

She shrugs. “It happens. Slow seasons then you find yourself booked back to back and burnt out. Nature of the biz as they say.”

“Very LA.”

We go quiet and I feel my heart explode at the distance she was keeping; I can sense her guardedness.

"I've missed you," I confess quietly, unable to hold back the truth any longer. "I think about you often."

Her gaze softens, a fleeting vulnerability crossing her features before it hardens into something stonier.

"It’s been four years," she notes in an even voice. “Surely you’ve moved on Harry. Don’t try to flatter me now.”

I don’t think I had moved on, I think with a sinking heart. I hoped tonight would be a night of reconnecting and exploring if there was anything left of us in the future. But it seemed that y/n had made up her mind about what her future was going to be long before this.

“Oh look Clara’s back,” she spots her friend walking back towards us. Dinis is nowhere in sight but she’s splotchy and windswept.

“I’m going to literally kill that prick. I’ve got a wet spot on my front like I’m still bloody breastfeeding or something.”

“It’ll dry up,” y/n pats her friend’s dress. “It’s sunny out don’t worry.”

“It better by the time we do photos.”

It’s like I’m not even there. They continue talking and slowly turn to walk back to their other friends.

“Nice talk,” I call out.

Clara’s still too busy ranting but y/n glances at me. Her smile is a reflex as she waves, unengaged and apathetic.

I feel a jab in my chest, I don’t know what to think. The last four years I’ve been so afraid I’d let go of the best thing. That I’d never find a love like hers. Meanwhile she’s moved on so much that I wasn’t even an ex any longer. I was just someone she knew in grade school. That hurts. It feels like lava dripping over my chest.

“Y’alright?” Ramo reappears at my side. He looks genuinely concerned.

“Yeah!” I put on a smile I don’t even feel. “Just wondering when this party’s getting bloody started.”

I feel Ramo’s eyes on me as I walk towards another drink but he doesn’t say anything more.

***

I sit with my arm around Y/n and her head rests on my shoulder. Sometimes the quiet moments we existed in beat out the others. They fed my heart and heightened every sense of mine.

“I wrote something,” I whisper into her hair. She turns her head to look up at me and I gently pull away. “A song…for you.”

“For me?” Y/n’s eyes are alight with shock and something else. “You wrote a song for me?”

My heart pounds as I confirm with a nod. “I’m halfway done but I wanted you to hear it.”

“Well go on,” she sits up and angles herself towards me. “I want to hear it!”

I pull my guitar case closer to me and open the familiar snaps, pulling the instrument out and close to me with shaky hands. Y/N watches with an excited attentiveness.

I began the melody that started as a few chords in my head the first time Y/N and I kissed under this tree and has continued to build for the 4 weeks since. This tree felt like it witnessed so much of the 5 weeks we’ve officially been together and I wanted to write an ode to it as much as y/n.

I couldn’t believe it was only 5 weeks but after a summer and a whole semester of flirting and hanging out I’d finally asked her out at the end of January. It was now March and Y/n had gotten her acceptance letter from across the ocean. She had told me last week with nervous hands and I wanted her to know we would always have this thing between us no matter what decision she made.

Y/n smiles as I begin but her eyes grow misty as I finish my final lines I had so far.

"And under the cherry tree, where love and laughter will always be," I sing softly, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'll cherish all these memories, even when you're not beside me."

“Oh Har,” she tips forward and I catch her against my chest, her head buried in my neck. “I can’t imagine living so far from you. Leaving you and everyone behind.”

“It’s the adventure you’ve been waiting for,” I reassure her. “You’re gonna make it big.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth it,” she whispers.

I pry her away gentle so she can look me in the face. I want to selfishly tell her to stay and never leave me. But even more than that I want her to do what she has always been passionate about, what she loves to do.

Love.

I love her, I realize with a clarity that cut so deep it tumbles out of my mouth.

“I love you,” I say. She freezes in my arms and I fumble to continue. “And I want you to live the life you always imagined. You’re destined for amazing things y/n I know it. I’ll always be here.”

“Will you?”

“Of course,” I kiss her on her temple and ignore that she didn’t say it back. That I said it too soon damnit we’d only been dating a month. What was wrong with me?

“I think you need to share your talent with the world,” she reminds me.

“That’s why I joined the talent show with you.” It was y/n’s idea, a final hurrah before we graduate and to prove to myself that I could get over my performance anxiety.

“We’re gonna crush it.”

I nod, the lump in my throat grows too big for words. She seems to sense it like she always does and pulls me into her this time.

It would take her a week to whisper the three words back to me, in the darkened corner of a house party right before she leads me home. It was a long week but so worth it.

***

The next time I catch y/n alone is when I’m talking to Hailey who’s thanking me for the few words I gave for her now husband Michael. The husband in question was doing the Macarena and Hailey was the sort to never be caught dead doing that sort of thing.

That’s why the couple never made sense to either group of friends. Yet they were the ones with a ring on their finger this many years later.

“Hailey oh-“ y/n is tipsy, I can tell with the sheen to her eye and the permanent half-smile etched into her lips. “Sorry didn’t realize-“

“That’s alright!” Hailey wraps her arm around y/n. “This girl is the best. She literally hopped on a last minute flight to be here! Can you believe that? I was crushed when she said maybe but ugh she always swoops in last minute saves the day. That’s always been her, back in the day during one of our school dances right, I got caught with…”

Y/n and I lock eyes as the bride babbles on and there. Finally there. The passing look of two people who know what the other is thinking without a single word.

She seems to catch herself and after an intense few seconds and a small smile she composes her face into an unengaged one and jostles Hailey.

“Hailey Harry doesn’t care! I just wanted to get a photo with you and Mik-“

“He’s too bloody busy doing cringe dances-“

“He’s actually having a drink looking for you now but look at this.”

“What?” Hailey’s head swivels around the room as y/n presents her phone with the groom doing a very serious macarena.

“And they say gen z get all the cringe dances,” I comment. Y/n snorts and then covers her mouth, her laugh falling away into a composed expression.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” I say before I can think. A part of me was getting desperate and a little irritated and another felt heartbroken all over again.

“Do what?” She asks as Hailey prances away from us when she spots Michael.

“Be all serious and composed around me. If I’m funny just laugh. My ego could use a lift.”

She stares with a tight lip and cautious eyes.

“You used to laugh the most at my jokes,” I say a bit softer. “Made me feel like the funniest bloke in the room.”

Her eyes lose a bit of their edge but her mouth is still hard-set and a wrinkle forms between her brows. That was new.

“I-I’ve gotta go.” She says. “Gotta get the picture.”

“Right,” I shove my hands in my pockets and watch her go back to the married couple. Right before she reaches them she turns slightly. When she finds me still watching, she jerks back around.

Hope siphons into my chest.

***

“This is the best song!” Abe shouts in my ear as he and the remaining wedding guests belt out Sweet Caroline.

It was late into the wedding party. Much of the older invitees had gone home and kids with their footballs were probably tucked into bed. What remained were Hailey and Michael’s school friends and a few stragglers that were too drunk to want to go home.

“Final song,” the DJ announces. “Time of my Life.”

All night I had been stealing glances at y/n waiting to see if she would come to me. Reciprocate even an ounce of anything I felt. But she hadn’t. She’d gone out of her way to avoid me even when we’d bumped into each other outside the toilets. She’d simply brushed past with a mumble of something I couldn’t make out.

I think what I said to her made her angrier. The anger, and the cold shoulder was new. It makes me feel small.

But I’d had enough drinks by now to feel confident. Enough to walk to where she dances with some friends.

“Y/n.”

She startles and plays it off with a laugh. “What d’you want?”

I motion my head to the side. To talk.

Hesitation makes her eyes weary but she follows after a moment.

Everyone around us sings along to the song. The irony isn’t lost on me.

“What?” She asks.

I stare at her openly, she allows me as she searches my face herself. I grasp at something to start this off with but I’ve had a few drinks myself.

“I used to think you were completely out of my league,” what comes out is a random thought in the speech I’d built up in my head throughout the night.

Her nose wrinkles, “what are you on about Harry?”

“Don’t do that,” I clutch my shirt. “Don’t act like we’re strangers, like we didn’t have something together.”

Her smile falls away, “we had something…like four five years ago. That’s…that’s ages ago Harry. Tell me you’re not still hung up on it?”

Her voice cuts right through me but it’s her gaze that doesn’t quite look at me that gives her away.

“Look me in the eye and tell me I mean nothing to you now,” I cut through the bullshit. It might have been the realization that I’d stayed hung up on this woman for years, sabotaged my love life on the idea I’d find nothing like what we had. And she stood here in front of me now undermining what we had. Making me feel crazy.

She looks me in the eyes, the eyes that haunted me in my dreams.

“I…it was a long time ago Harry.”

“Then why’ve you been avoiding me all night?”

“I haven’t. We’re talking now?”

“So I’m nothing to you?” I ask, hearing the hurt and wishing I didn’t sound so desperate.

“Look. We were young and free and what we had back then doesn’t actually translate to much when you look back as adults.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? So you can freeze away your feelings for what we had?”

She gapes, then turns away with her arms wrapped around herself like the freezing caught up.

“I don’t know what you want.” She finally says.

“I just…” what did I want? “I want to know if you ever think about us. If you have any regrets…if…”

She sighs, “Of course you cross my mind from time to time. But I wouldn’t have regrets. I can see why someone would have regrets, however, after they just let someone they called the love of their life go. Especially when she needed him the most.”

There it was. Her hot anger.

“When you needed…”

“Yeah!” She barely glances at me. “I was scared of leaving and losing you and being alone and all the unknown things. And you left me. You just…said goodbye to us.”

Woah.

Her eyes prick with tears and she turns back to the dancing crowd. The song was winding down and the venue being cleared. I feel the opportunity pass through my fingers.

If I would have known, I would have held her longer. I would never have left her alone. Especially when she needed me the most.

“Y/n,” in a desperate move I grab for her arm and turn her back around. Her lashes are lined with tears, her mouth open in an “o” as she looks up at me. My eyes can’t help themselves as they flicker down to them. This was the closest I came to holding her like before. Her eyes do the same and I feel my heart racing in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I croak. “For what it’s worth.”

“It’s not worth much,” she says through a watery smile. Trying not to cry; trying to stay composed.

“I’m still in l-“

“Stop,” she puts her hand on top of mind and gently nudges it off her arm. She shakes her head and her hair falls gently to cover her face. “I can’t do this right now Harry. I travelled all this way to celebrate our best friends. But the distance between us was for a reason.”

“It’s been years-“

“Doesn’t change how you left me after I gave you my whole heart. Or the fact that that we ended.”

“I truly an sorry,” I say to her retreating figure.

The shame I feel courses through my body; I couldn’t have known better back then. I was young and stupid and I didn’t realize these types of decisions weren’t to be made lightly. That their repercussions would echo for the rest of my life.

I left her under the cherry tree in the courtyard of the school we’d graduated from. It was late June and it haunted my memories since.

—

Under the skyward branches of the blushing cherry tree, a solemn silence hung in the air. It was the last day of our final year, and emotions swirled between us like the spring breeze.

Y/N stood with her back against the tree trunk, her yearbook clasped tightly to her chest, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. I stood before her, my hands nervously clenched in my pockets, heart heavy with the weight of impending decision.

"I can't believe it's over," y/n murmured, her voice cracking with emotion as she meets my eyes. "Four years went by so fast."

I nod, unable to maintain eye contact. It wasn’t school ending that was making us this sad but what would come of us as I would attend school in the country and y/n out.

This decision weighed heavily on my mind ever since I learned y/n was attending ucla across the ocean—a decision she had made long before we acknowledged our feelings for each other. Now facing the idea of long-distance, I couldn’t shake the fear that everything was changing and things would be different in an unknowable way.

"Yeah," I manage to reply. My voice comes out hoarse, my throat tight with tears I was pushing down. “I'm going to miss this... miss us I…”

Her lower lip trembles, emotions ripple across her features. “Harry god I’m gonna miss us, you…just getting to be together everyday!”

I scrub at my eyes, not wanting to cry right now. She notices and wipes them for me. “You've been my rock through everything this last year."

I take a step towards her, closer. She was the sun and I wanted to bask in her glow, always. Except today wasn’t a bright day, my heart breaks at the sight of the tears streaking her cheeks. “Y/N I…” I try to find the right words but they fail me again. In the meantime a hundred chords play through my mind, deepening the grief I felt.

Suddenly a surge of panic grips me, my blood turns cold like it usually did when I thought about her leaving me. When I consider the depth of what this meant.

Deep down I couldn’t bear the thought of losing y/n but at the same time the unknown was playing at my fears, my anxiety. Imagine a future where she’s thousands of miles away. Everyone I know who talks about long-distance always gets their heart broken…distance never makes relationships stronger.

What if, I think, what if I just rip the bandaid off.

Wouldn’t that be the merciful thing to do? Instead of continuing to a point of no return. I mean what if we try long-distance, y/n creates a life in America, and realizes I was holding her back? What if we end up hating each other?

My brow feels slick and my heart pounds away. I clear my throat.

“I love you y/n.” I tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I love you too,” she whispers.

“After this summer, after you leave-“

“We don’t have to talk about this right now let’s just enjoy now and-“

“How can we?” I finally break. “How can we enjoy now when we know there’s an expiry date to all this!”

“Harry,” y/n grabs my hands. Attempts to soothe my anxiety but I’d passed the point of no return. The words continue to tumble out.

“What if…maybe it’s for the best if we…if we let go now.”

“What?” Shock colours y/n’s face and her eyes fill with tears. “What are you saying Har?”

“I don't want us to... to hurt each other trying to make this work.”

Her mouth hangs open and I can see her heart breaking in front of me. It kills me inside.

“But Har,” her voice grows desperate. “We talked about…we could…we’ll make it work-“

“Y/n,” now my own grows desperate. I wanted to stop talking about this, now that I’d made the decision to let go I wanted to just cut this loose and run away. “We’ll only hurt more.”

Her lower lip trembles and tears coat her bottom lash as she looks up at me through her top lashes. She whispers, “This isn’t fair.”

“I know,” I hang my head. “I’m sorry.”

And I was. I didn’t want to be the one to break us up but what choice did I have? I was doing it as the best case scenario.

Tears spill down y/n’s face and her voice is barely audible over the rustling of the cherry tree, “b-but I love you.”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, the sway of the leaves now roaring in my ears. Or maybe that was just the blood rushing to my face. I feel my heart turn to dust and my entire body aches as the weight of the decision coats me. “I love you too y/n. I love you now and always.”

I clasp her hand and squeeze it. She squeezes back, a sob pulled forth by the contact.

“Y/n…maybe this is how we say goodbye. On our own terms. With space to…to heal.”

Y/n cries harder and I pull her in, tucking her into me because she fit so perfectly in my contours. A part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this, I always imagined our goodbye at a Heathrow terminal under bright lights and linoleum floors.

We both cry into each other but I pull away first, I had to be the stronger one.

“I wish you nothing but the best,” I cup her face. “I…”

I didn’t know how to translate the dust of my heart. I kiss her one last time and then again on her forehead.

With that, I turn away unable to stand in the heartbreak. Every step away from her and the cherry tree feels impossible but I walk away from the girl who was my everything, feeling torn between the love I had for her and the fear of what the future would bring.

—

All I’d been thinking about was myself. About how I’d had friends who tried long distance and how their ending was more brutal than ripping the bandaid off from the get go.

That summer we avoided each other at parties, at our local haunts, and on the day she left I watched her car pull away from my bedroom window and leave forever with a leaden feeling in my heart. That I’d made a big mistake, too big to ever fix.

Tonight was the night I was supposed to set thing right. But things were just getting worse.

***

“After party!” Abe wraps his drunken arm around my shoulder. By then I’d sobered up with a quiet moment off to the side, smoking even though I’d tried to quit ten times in the last month. “I thought you quit that you cheeky bugger!”

“I’m going to,” I squish the cigarette against the wall. “You said after party?”

“After party!!” Ramo hollers coming up from behind. I take in the scene before me, the string lights were having their power cut, most of the tables were wiped clear of cutlery and tablecloths. Just like that the magical night Hailey and Micheal had been planning for months was over. Now they had their whole lives in front of them.

“Har?” Someone snaps a finger in front of my face.

“Huh?”

“Where’d you go?” A group had gathered in front of me, a mix of groomsmen and bridesmaid. Y/n isn’t one of them.

“What?” I ask again. “What’s this about an after party?”

“The party isn’t done,” someone replies.

“Please?!” I hear someone else say off to the side. Now that the music had also turned off it had gotten quieter in the venue.

I turn to the other conversation and see Hailey tugging y/n’s arms, trying to convince her of something. And just like that y/n’s eyes meet mine and something like resignation passes through them.

“-you in?” Michael claps my back and I’m jolted back to the crowd in front of me.

“Yeah,” I assumed they asked me about this after party. “Let’s keep the party going!”

Whooping ensures and everyone trickles out into the parking lot.

“Where is this again?” I ask whoever was closest to me.

“Schoolyard?” Clara answers. “If we don’t get kicked out for loitering that is.”

“We’ll just have to be quiet.”

Clara side eyes me and realizes I’m joking. She huffs a laugh. “It’s like hoping for your 1 year old to go to bed without a tantrum.”

“That’s right,” I suddenly remember. “You had a baby last year. Congrats on that Clara.”

She laughs again, “You’re sweet Harry. Thanks. It’s been a hell of a year but I’m a glutton for punishment because all I can think of is skipping the after party to bury my face in my daughter’s. She’s probably asleep though. I’d wake her up.”

I imagine Clara with her daughter, she was always mothering her friends when I’d hang out with y/n in school. “I can see you being a wonderful mum. Your daughter probably adores you.”

“Not as much as I adore her,” Clara sighs. I chuckle and another laugh comes from the other side of me. I startle to see y/n walking beside me.

How long had she been there? Our eyes meet and the smile she sends me is sweet and innocent. Like that day in school long ago when she walked in on me tinkering away on my guitar and asked me to play something for her.

It throws me off just like it did then. I turn away.

“We’re just gonna walk there!” Someone ahead of us shouts back to the group.

“In these heels?” Someone complains.

“The girls can take a car?” Hailey suggests. So some of the bridesmaids pile into one but Clara and y/n stay with Hailey.

“I’m sensible now,” Clara stretches her heel-less foot out. “Y/n you sure you don’t want the ride?”

“I’ve been dancing without these for the last two hours.” Y/n shrugs. “My feet can handle the walk.”

“Are we betting how long it takes to get kicked out?” I ask the remainder of the crew.

Bets start flying, I bet 40 minutes.

“D’you think the cherry tree is still there? That was probably the loveliest bit of our school every spring.” Clara asks. “I haven’t been back in ages.”

“Yeah!” Hailey pipes in. “We did some of our photos there when we did save the dates. We ended up using the ones at the garden though.”

I glance at y/n, I can’t help it. She has the same idea because she looks at me too. I didn’t understand what was happening tonight. I’d nearly given up on reconciling but here she was suddenly giving me softened looks, her hard edges dulling down enough for me to bump into her shoulder and try joking.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“What?” She balks. “Ideas?!”

“Hey Har,” Hailey turns to me. “D’you still play? That guitar remembers guys? He was always playing that thing.”

I avoid y/n’s gaze now.

“Not really.”

“Harry’s a tight-ass finance bloke now,” Ramo says for me. “That creative spirit died after he and a little somebody-“

“I’m not,” I cut Ramo off knowing he was going to say something that would make all of us awkward. I continue to avoid y/n’s attention. “A tight-ass finance bloke. I like to think I’m a fine-ass finance bloke. And it’s because I just don’t get the time these days.”

“You were so good,” comes y/n’s thoughtful commentary.

“He was wasn’t he?!” Hailey continues. “Thought I’d see you on TV or something. That show with the contestants? I always thought if anyone from school went on there it’d be Harry.”

“Thanks Hailey,” I’m uncomfortable under everyone’s scrutiny. And the way Abe keeps wriggling his eyebrows at me and tilting his head to y/n.

By now we’ve reached the school grounds and watch as the rest of the girls scramble out of the car. I spot the cherry tree on the far side, no longer in bloom and smaller than I remember.

There’s a buzz about the group, like being together all these years later in the schoolyard brings with it some life-changing magic. Like time’s worn thin tonight and we can almost reach out and touch our school selves.

“Hailey and Michael!!” Ramo shouts incredibly loud. My 40 minute bet shrinks to 20. “Official Mr. And Mrs!! Let’s fucking go!!!”

They all take off down the field, open bottles dangling from their hands, jackets and gowns flying in the wind as they go.

I take off after them, laughing as a bubble of relief flows up from my lungs. It was just like before, running across the school field with my mates, laughing and shouting random shite into the world.

I glance to my side and y/n’s pumping her legs but falling behind the group. I hold out my hand without thinking but she comes to a full stop. So do I.

“These fucking heels.” She peels them off and sighs in relief, tossing them to the side and taking a swig of her wine bottle.

“You might need those later.”

“Fuck those heels!” She shouts louder.

I laugh and hold out my hand, “We’re falling behind. C’mon!”

She grabs it and we run to catch up, and I’m grinning so hard I feel like my cheeks are going to split. This might be an illusion of a moment I could only dream of but I didn’t care. Despite the night sky and nippy air, everything was sunny and golden.

The finish line was the cherry tree at the end of the yard and our friends pile around it, out of breath.

“Jesus I’ve got stitches,” Clara complains. “I’m never doing that again.”

Hailey giggles and wraps her arms around her husband. “I love all of you so much. Thanks for making this day so special.”

We all pour our love back to the couple. Alcohol and conversation begins to flow around the group and eventually I find y/n sitting beside me tugging at the grass.

“So you really don’t play anymore?” She asks softly after a while.

Her eyes are round and inquisitive as she asks, and I could drown in them. I think of everything I could tell her about not playing—how it made me think of her, how it hurt too much to play after a while, how that part of me was dead and I didn’t like to dredge it up anymore.

Instead I shake my head and leave it hanging, staring down into my lap.

“Why?” She whispers, edging closer to me so that our knees nearly touch. I wonder if she notices or if it even matters.

Again I think of all the reasons and my eyes fill with tears as I do. I’d shut away so much of myself because I had too much love for y/n that couldn’t go anywhere. I’d shut the love away and myself as well.

She taps my knee and I look up, her eyebrows scrunch together when she notices the tears.

“You were supposed to do big things with that guitar of yours,” she whispers to me. And it sounds exactly like something she would have said to me all those years ago. It’s too much. I take the bottle of wine sitting beside her and take a swig. She watches me with concern.

“Music,” I clear my throat when my voice comes out hoarse. “Music didn’t really hold the same magic afterwards. After we…I stopped…speaking in it.”

“Well fuck. That makes me really sad.”

“It’s alright—numbers became my new language.”

“How depressing!”

I laugh and cut myself short when it nearly turns into a sob.

I was sitting with y/n after all these years, under the cherry tree, and she was farther away than ever.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “For being a chicken. Leaving before you left me. Then I just watched you go.”

Y/n opens her mouth and closes it after a second. Voices from the group drift over to us, Michael discussing honeymoon plans, Clara showing Dinis photos of her daughter, someone talking about a teacher we all hated.

“That was really sweet what you said to Clara earlier,” y/n says. It’s so random it takes me a second to recall.

“Oh yeah. Well she was always fussing over your friends like a mum. At least whenever I hung out with all of you.”

“She did. Makes sense she’s the first of us to be a mum. Although it wasn’t really planned—I’m really glad it turned out like this for her in the end.”

I nod, unsure where this was going.

“Har I-“ y/n’s voice sticks and she quiets again. It kills me to wait instead of telling her to spit it out.

“Y/n,” I say gently when she presses her lips together and doesn’t speak. I nudge her knee this time. “What?”

Our eyes meet and a galaxy of things rush between us. Memories, like distant stars, flicker with joy and pain. We’re caught between them—caught in the gravitational pull of the past and the very solid present of each other.

“I…I was hurting so bad after. After you said-after we broke up. I forgot you were probably hurting too. That the hurt could have always lingered too.” Y/n admits.

I forget to breathe as a constellation of emotions pools in our eyes, an ache from the unspoken admission that maybe we had missed each other all of this time.

“We were so young,” y/n continues. She picks at the grass. I imagine it helps feel in controls amidst the emotional storm happening between us.

“We were.”

“So free,” she laughs a little.

“Yeah. Too free. I don’t think I realized what I wanted until it was too late.”

“You had the whole summer,” the soft accusation cuts deep. I feel the gravity of how much it affected her.

“I was so scared of the hurt I…”

“Yet we hurt anyway.”

Those four words suck the oxygen out of my lungs, I couldn’t respond even if I wanted to.

We sit in another silence, I think about the version of us that didn’t leave the cherry tree separately. The version that kept holding on.

Maybe there could be a version of us that comes back to the cherry tree and leaves together this time. That thought spurs me into action.

I stand and brush the grass off my pants. Y/n watches me with a confused expression.

I hold my hand out to her for the second time that evening.

“Dance with me under the cherry tree?”

She flushes as our friends quiet down. But she grips my hand and I pull her up towards me.

“Really?” She whispers.

“Where’s the music?” One of our friends asks and as we begin our slow dance a phone breaks out in a slow number. It makes y/n giggle.

“This is incredibly cheesy.”

“Just embrace it.” I tell her. “The last time we were here-“

“We don’t have to keep talking about it,” she looks up at me. “It was so long ago. We can’t change the past. We really were young and we just have to-“

“Y/n,” I cut her off. “We were young but our love was real.”

This leaves her speechless. She simply furrows her brows and blinks away whatever emotion it pulls forth. And with her arms locked tightly behind me and my arms on her waist, we continue to sway. A quiet yearning defying time and distance fills the space between us; even as I pull her flush against me and she buries her face in my neck.

“That’s more like it,” I can hear Abe say in the back with a whistle before everyone laughs and goes back to chattering.

“So,” y/n says softly after a while. “When I blew you off at the wedding you were going to say something.”

I hardly remember. I was going to say a lot and I was probably a few drinks in.

“I lied.” She continues. “I tried to forget about you. I held onto the anger so I wouldn’t hurt when I thought about you. Then I looked you up every once in a while expecting some musical thing attached to your name but I never did see anything—now I know why.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle.

“So you really stopped after we broke up?”

“Yes,” I say again. “I tried that summer but everything sounded like…like a donkey trying to sing. I gave up on it ever sounding good again.”

“That’s a shame Harry,” she says and I know she means it but I don’t want to focus on me.

“So you looked me up did you?”

“Don’t start on that,” she flushes. I drop it but not the smile on my face. She notices and buries her face into my shoulder.

We continue swaying to whatever song was queued on our friends’ phone. It feels like we’re all 17 again and staying up later than our parents would like. It felt like we were all young and free, not 20-somethings sitting around our married friends.

“I can’t believe we’re all back here again.” I comment.

“I know. Feels fake. Especially being back here, with you.”

“I hope this is alright?” I pause but y/n tightens her grip.

“It is. Y’know no matter how many people filled the space after you.” Y/n says. “It was never you.”

My breath catches. Was she saying-

“Incoming!” Someone shouts and before I can ask where the group erupts in chaos. People run every way I’m surprised nobody bumps heads.

“What!?” I say just as a flashlight beam cuts across my face. The police. “Oh fuck! Let’s go!”

I grab y/n’s hand and we run away from whatever authority was stalking towards us with flashlights.

It’s just like the old days.

“Harry!” I hear Thomas yell up ahead and I veer to the right towards it.

“Ow! Shit!” I hear y/n shout behind me before she releases my hand.

“What? What are you doing?!” I rush back to her.

She’s picking a rock out of her foot, behind her the lights grow closer.

“Those fucking heels!” I shout.

“Bad decision!” She tosses another pebble off her foot.

“No time! Get on!”

“What?” She freezes but I turn around and crouch, tugging her arms around me so she can get the hint. She loops her legs around my waist and even though I’m slowed down we somehow make it, laughing and stumbling, towards Thomas and Abe. They wave at us from just beyond the school ground and once we make it in the clear we head back to the venue and our parked cars.

“That was insane,” they gush.

“Felt like the golden years,” I grin.

“The fucking golden years,” they laugh.

“Okay designated drivers,” Michael says when he catches sight of us. “We have to get out of here.”

There’s a final round of bidding the newlyweds adieu and waving them off. I look for y/n once they blink out of sight.

“I came with Jamie,” she wraps her arms around herself.

I take my jacket off and drape it around her. I’m transported to doing the exact same thing after house parties because y/n would complain that a jacket would ruin her outfit and then walk home shivering.

“What if you go home with someone else?” I ask.

“You’ve got a car?”

“No,” I regret not driving myself now. “I came with one of the boys.”

“Shite.”

“Yeah…”

“Where are you staying?” She asks.

“Uhm…I came from my flat. Near Shoreditch.”

“Oh right.” She looks away. “You live in the city…right. I’m staying at my mum’s.”

“That’s not too far. My parents still live down the road from yours.”

“I know,” she smiles. “What if you dropped me home? And I invite you in?”

“Y/n,” I tug her closer. “What’s this you’re suggesting?”

“Staying?”

The sight of her, the feel of her, her scent and her perfect hand on my chest envelop me. I couldn’t say no; I was under her spell.

“That would turn this amazing evening into an amazing weekend.”

“And who knows what comes next,” she whispers as I lean the rest of the way. I want to kiss her.

“I want to kiss you.”

She doesn’t respond. She simply stretches up and presses her lips to mine. My heart collects itself and explodes in an explosion of slime.

She feels the exact same, tastes the same, but the confidence is new. It makes me dizzy. I want her even more.

“Get a fucking room!” Thomas says from behind. “Are you two gonna need a ride or planning on shagging in the bushes over there?”

I flip him off and finish the perfect kiss, using every bit of my willpower as y/n’s hand trails down my neck and back to my chest.

“Go on,” I say without even looking at my friends. “We’ve got an after after party.”

“Gross,” someone grumbles behind us.

“G’night!” Y/n shouts and with our chests heaving we break apart, grab hold of each other’s hands, and begin the walk to her house.

We walk in silence—our hands swinging between us tells you everything you need to know about how we were feeling.

At her front door y/n smiles up at me. It feels like deja vu, standing in her doorway with her looking at me like that. Knowing we were going to her bedroom just to get in bed. Time folds in on itself as I press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m so glad I couldn’t stay angry tonight,” she strokes my face. “I would’ve missed all this.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “I’m glad my mug’s so handsome it wore you down.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “It wasn’t the mug. Although it is even more handsome than the last time I saw it.”

I kiss her, “Mmm then what was it that wore you down?”

“I dunno,” she sighs. “You? Us?”

Us.

“Whatever it was, I’ll make sure to write it a thank you note. Now why don’t you open that door because my hands are not going to stay PG for very long. And I’m pretty sure your mum’s got one of those camera doorbells.”

“Oh god,” she whips around and laughs before slapping a hand to her mouth. “Sorry mum!”

We stifle our laugh and step inside. Deja vu comes rushing at me again at the familiarity of her home.

As we sneak up to her room I think about what y/n said. It was true, even though she couldn’t pinpoint it. Despite how we felt at the beginning of the night it was always going to end this way. Something about us was always meant to come back to each other.

You. Us. Her.

It was always her.

[yukinarinn]

nsfw alphabet with ethan?? fem reader preferred <3

A/N: NAH CUZ I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT WHAT IF SOMEONE WOULD REQUEST THIS RIGHT AFTER I POSTED THE GALE ONE. Thank you so much!! also I’ll be definitely looking forward to your oneshots.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very caring. He isn’t going to sleep with you until you take a shower together and clean each other up, while giving you sloppy kisses. But this might lead to another round…

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Chad literally had to “boost” Ethan’s confidence somehow by complimenting him, so he doesn’t really have a favorite body part.

But he definitely has one when it comes to you. I’d like to think he’s more into thighs and ass.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ethan loves cumming inside of you (when you’re on birth control) but is also fine with cumming in your mouth. Seeing you swallow it will most likely get him hard all over again.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a plenty of dirty pics/videos with you when you were touching yourself, and all of them are saved in one of the folders from his laptop.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He never had a girlfriend before, so everything he knows now is just what he experienced with you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Probably missionary. He loves you clinging onto him while he enters you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s quiet and like pretty quiet since he’s shy and doesn’t want to embarass himself in any way. But as long as you’re the one who makes jokes, he will keep going!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ethan does have some but not too much.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s very gentle at first, sweet kisses and love bites all over your body while he’s inside of you, or, eventually, his fingers doing the job. He can get a bit aggressive but he also calls you a good girl and tells you how good you feel/take him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jerks off when he opens his laptop and accidentally clicks on that folder (or on purpose) He just likes seeing you all vulnerable in his bed.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s got so many kinks (that I’m probably not even aware of myself) since he used to be a virgin and have never been touched by a woman so he just googled them and saw what it fits for him the most. One of the kinks might be the daddy kink one, he gets hard when you call him daddy out of nowhere or in bed.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the living room since it’s more spacious for you to fuck. Or in the bathroom, he will force you to look at yourself in the mirror while doing it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He gets turned on easily, especially when you walk past him wearing those cute lengerie just for him to see.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He might be a sadist, but he wouldn’t actually be too rough with you since he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way, unless you want to.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. It’s just that he still doesn’t know much about females organs so he’s scared he will mess things up if he ever tries to eat you out. He watched several porn that contained it, but he knows porn is different from the real life.

However, you get turned on by giving him oral since he pulls your hair and degrades you and whimpers (🧎🏻‍♀️) when he’s close. It’s a win-win situation.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As I said, he won’t get rough unless you want him to but usually he’s gentle and pretty slow, he likes taking his time and seeing you turned on and wet just for him. It gives him so much confidence to see that he’s really worth your time (poor guy haven’t dated anyone before you)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pretty often if you ask me. You both go to university and you don’t have much time to do anything. However, you wish you had more free time and not use the weekends mostly for sex.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

YEAH, especially when Chad isn’t out with Tara. Chad might be in the kitchen cooking something and Ethan sometimes asks you to let him fuck you while he’s at home but with one condition, holding back your moans. Which you can’t.. but that’s the interesting part!

Talking about other risks, he breeds you and he knows you might get pregnant even with birth control on since the condoms are “out of stock” for y’all 😭 you don’t really use protection. He gets off at the thought of you having his kids. And you probs do too. Fucking weirdos. (hj)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Many rounds. He can’t get enough of you. If a round you and he think is too short, you’ll go for another one..and another..and the cycle never ends. Till you fall asleep.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does own a mini vibrator with a remote control. You can’t even imagine how hard he gets when he sees your tired face while he’s overstimulating you with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I wouldn’t call it teasing, neither would he. He just likes taking his time!!

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He does whimper when he’s close and curses, stuff like that. At first he tried to hold in but you told him you get turned on whenever you hear those erotic noises he makes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Phone sex. That’s it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I gotta ask, how could you even take it? he’s like 6’5 and has a 7 inch dick, not to mention he also goes to gym and you fold everytime you see him doing push-ups, let alone doing you in bed. (smash)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. I don’t know what you’ve expected.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Right after you. But he’s a worried cutie patootie so he might ask you several times if you’re okay!

[dreamerdrop]

your posts on julian bashir get me so much ... can you say more on how you see him as already behaving like someone with sexual trauma as a foundation for his worldview 👀👀👀

OKAY. HI. FAVOURITE QUESTION EVER YES.

Alright, just going to preface this with “a lot of this is projecting and speculative and very much headcanon-y” so grain of salt, please.

Julian Bashir reads to me as someone with sexual trauma. Specifically, he often shows a murky concept of consent, both his own and for others.

TL;DR: Julian Bashir shows a consistent pattern of brushing off violations to his self (physically, mentally, etc.) as embarassing or not a big deal, almost like he’s just accepted that these things are inevitable, and when combined with his hypersexual behaviour, his general refusal to acknlowedge trauma or his personal issues, and his own issues with consent when pursuing others, it all comes together VERY easily to paint the picture of a person who has experienced some form of sexual trauma and has just internalised this as both his own fault and not a big deal.

Earliest obvious example is his pursuit of Jadzia, including a fairly notorious moment in the early episode “Dax” where she outright says “no” and Julian decides she really means “try harder”. Obviously, the doylist explanation is that it was the 90’s and we’re meant to find this dogged persistence cute. (And, obviously, Jadzia is apparently into this herself, go figure.)

There’s also “If Wishes Were Horses”, in which Julian is… well, he’s effectively woken up to be assaulted by a fake Jadzia in his own quarters. He reacts, initially, anyway, in a pretty rational manner, trying to work out what the hell is going on and tries to get her to stop.

Of course, she doesn’t, and Julian eventually just sort of. Gives in. Subsequently, he assumes that this was some sort of joke, and he’s… honestly a lot less angry or upset by that than he really should be.

Again, I KNOW the doylist reasoning is that this was the 90’s and we’re supposed to find his obvious reluctance to make out with an attractive woman to be something funny because ~men are always eager~ and ~women can’t be predatory~ or something, right.

But then there’s all this other stuff to throw into the mix on top of it. Julian’s augmentation, for one, is treated as a traumatic violation of his bodily autonomy by his parents. (Comparable to conversion therapy, ABA abuse… etc. etc.) (I mean, it’s treated as traumatic inconsistently, mind you, but it’s still worth taking into account.)

Julian exhibits hypersexual behaviours (and I haaaaaaate that this gets written off as just ~young men are always just eager for sex~ in the show itself, because like, Julian is, imo, clearly *much more* preoccupied with sex than most people ever are, and I say this as someone with an unhealthy preoccupation on sex MYSELF) as well as a repeated longing for relationships as some kind of balm to cope with his issues. (Sarina is a particularly painful example where his issues end up harming someone else, but his relationship with Ezri absolutely SCREAMS “I’m stressed and miserable and think nothing good will ever happen again and I need something to make me feel like I’m normal”.)

We also have several examples of Julian reacting to traumatic incidents like they’re… nowhere near as big a deal as they actually are. He has his body snatched in one early episode, and considers the whole thing to have been “humiliating” rather than, y’know, a horrifying violation of his bodily autonomy.

Anyway, there’s probably plenty of extra stuff I’m missing here, but my point is: Julian Bashir shows a consistent pattern of brushing off violations to his self as embarassing or not a big deal, almost like he’s just accepted that these things are inevitable, and when combined with his hypersexual behaviour, his general refusal to acknlowedge trauma or his personal issues, and his own issues with consent when pursuing others, it all comes together VERY easily to paint the picture of a person who has experienced some form of sexual trauma and has just internalised this as both his own fault and not a big deal.

… Ahem, I also have a fic on this topic if you want some whump.

[s74rf1sh]

ROTTMNT CUDDLE HEADCANONS

Woah it’been a while since my first post…

ANYWAY, I’m in a very sleepy mood so here’s cuddle headcanons for the turtles

~LEO~

-This guy is so goofy

-Constantly grabbing at your ass or tights to massage them while teasing you about it

-He loves to lay on you or having you lay on him

-Lots of churring and snuggling (if you have a prominent chest it’s not yours anymore, it’s his)

-Muffled rambling about literally any topic

-Praises your body constantly (not in a sexual way, this guy is just head over heels about you and wants to make sure you know it)

-“I have no idea why you worry so much, you’re so damn beautiful”

-PLEASE take his mask off and gently caress his face markings, this guy will MELT

-If you’re not laying down he’s definetly resting on your lap ᵃᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ⁱ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗˢ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵘᵒˢ ⁱ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵘʸ

-He’ll play with your hair, even braid it if it’s long enough

-Even massage your face if he’s in the mood

-Will nibble on your neck playfully AND tease you about your reaction

-Will gently squeeze your hips and/or shoulders

-I guess the preferred location is his room, but the couch is comfy too

-If you’re having a movie night all together he won’t be shy and lay on your lap (ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵃʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ)

-Of course he will refrain from squeezing your ass or doing TOO intimate things…

-But yeah, he will cuddle with you in public if your comfortable with it

~RAPH~

-He’s baby

-Tried to be the small spoon but miserably failed

-(you got slight injuries by his shell and he never forgive himself about it)

-He likes to squeeze you to his plastron and feel your heat

-He often wraps you two in a big blanket, morphing in a big burrito

-He does chur, but it’s really really low and hardly hearable

-Snacks and hot drinks while you cuddle>>>

-If someone were ever to walk in on you two he’d be so fucking embarassed (probably hiding his face in your body)

-He doesn’t mind if you take his bandana off or not, but if you wear it yourself? Oh he’s jumping on you.

-Asks April for advice💀👍 (especially the first times you ever cuddled together)

-Overthinks a little too much about your well-being (I feel ya buddy) what if you’re uncomfortable in that position? What if you’re not hot enough? Is his smell fine? Are you bothered by his churrs?

-Please comfort this poor guy

-Is teased by his brothers (*COUGH* Leo *COUGH*) about him being so vulnerable when you’re around

-As you probably already guessed he’s kind of embarrassed around his family, but holding hands sround others is so special to him

-It makes him feel as if he’s telling the world (his family) that you’re his

~MIKEY~

-Ok let’s be real: he’s VERY touchy

-He’s basically cuddling with you 24/7

-Takes every opportunity to kiss or hug or snuggle you throughout the day

-When you two are alone he just doesn’t let go of you LIKE

-“Mike l need to use the bathroom” “OK :D” “…Le-Let me go” “wwWHY..?” “I NEED TO PEE” “I CAN COME WITH YOU”

-You’ll eventually get him to let you go for a few minutes

-He LOVES when you even slightly match his energy and also crave affection (even if you won’t admit it ;))

-Doesn’t really care where you are or what position you’re in as long as you’re both comfortable

-But if he had to choose a position he would probably like facing and spooning

-Speaking of facing—PREPARE TO BE PEPPERED IN KISSES

-Churrs happily and loudly, not giving two fucks about who hears him🫡

-Squeezes your cheeks (the puffier they are the more full this lil guy’s heart gets)

-If you’ll let him, he’ll draw small doodles on your hands or arms

-Cuddles in public couldn’t be less of a problem for him

-Just say if you’re ok with it or not and he will obey (except for a few stolen kisses in case you say no)

~DONNIE~

-Will NEVER admit how much he actually enjoys your cuddles

-Will have you sit on his lap as he works, chest to chest

-…or you laying on his chest and viceversa

-The very first times he kept everything on- battleshell included

-But after a while he allowed you to take off his mask

-The shell thing is a bit more delicate (Yk?Cause he’s a softshell turtle? God I want to hang myse-) and might take more time

-But if you play your cards right he’s throwing it out the window in a few months

-When he’s not rambling he’ll just lay there and melt in your touch

-Whether you’re running your hands through his bare shell or caressing his face and muscles he’ll just let you love him

-He finded it hard to let you cuddle him, let alone him cuddling you…

-A lot of patience is needed but will be rewarded

-Him inviting you to lay on him, rest your face on his shoulder, sometimes he will even kiss you first

-Ew I’m getting diabetes MOVING ON

-Cuddling in public is usually a big No-no, but there’s situations where you’ll get a text from him where he just—

-“Cuddles in bed later?”

-You smile at him and he acts his blush off…