#ask your friend if they can guess correctly

[h2o-and-stuff]

if you really know yourself, which one are you choosing?

H2O, Mako Mermaids edition

(the fanart belongs to @/willow-s-linda on tumblr)

[scientia-rex]

When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”

He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)

I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.

What is your objective?

Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.

I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.

I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.

Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.

Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.

How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?

Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.

Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?

[gojover]

“kiss me.”

those two words are already enough to make iwaizumi’s poor, alcohol-muddled brain come to a screeching halt. he gapes at you, unsure if he’s heard you correctly.

“iwaizumi,” you say, “i know this is sudden and weird and strange, but i need you to kiss me, like, right now.”

he blinks at you, hard. “you’re drunk,” he states, though his own words are slightly slurred.

“i am,” you confirm, nodding. “but that’s not the point.”

he squints, trying to piece together whatever mess you’ve roped him into this time. the party is still raging behind you, music thumping through the walls, but here in the dimly lit hallway, it’s just you—flushed and desperate, fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve.

“what exactly is the point, then?” he asks warily.

you glance over your shoulder, then back at him, urgency clear in your expression. “that guy over there won’t leave me alone.”

iwaizumi frowns instantly, body tensing. “who?” 

“not important. what’s important is that you kiss me so he gets the message.”

his stomach does a weird flip, and he can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re looking at him like you’re actually considering—like it’s not just some convenient excuse.

“c’mon, iwa.” your voice drops into something softer, almost teasing, but still urgent. “it’s not like you haven’t thought about it.”

his brain short-circuits for the second time tonight.

before he can respond, you’re tugging at his shirt, and suddenly, your lips are on his—warm, and tasting faintly of whatever cheap cocktail you’ve been nursing all night.

iwaizumi stiffens at first, hands hovering uncertainly in the air, brain scrambling to catch up. he’s drunk, sure, but not drunk enough to miss the fact that this is you—his best friend barring oikawa, the person he’s known for years, the one person who shouldn’t be kissing him like this.

but you are.

and worse? he’s kissing you back.

your fingers twist into the front of his shirt, tugging him closer, and a little noise escapes the back of his throat before he can stop it. his hands finally move, one settling hesitantly at your waist while the other cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. you smell like your shampoo, the same scent he’s gotten whiffs of on his hoodies after you’ve stolen them, and everything is too much.

he pulls back slightly, breathing hard. “you—” his voice cracks, so he swallows and tries again. “you sure that guy’s even looking?”

you blink up at him, dazed. “huh?” 

“i mean, if you were just trying to make a point—”

“oh. oh!” you glance over your shoulder, looking a little lost, then turn back to him with a sheepish grin. “yeah. i forgot about that.”

he lets out a rough, incredulous laugh. “you forgot?”

you nod, still gripping his shirt. your thumb brushes against the skin at his collarbone, and his stomach flips again.

“wow,” you say, quieter. “you kiss really well.”

iwaizumi lets loose a breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. his heart is pounding, and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands anymore—if he should step away and put distance between you, or if he should just pull you back in, consequences be damned.

you must notice the hesitation because you’re much closer, now, tipping your chin up and whispering, “we can stop if you want.”

it doesn’t feel like you want to stop. and god help him, he doesn’t want to stop either.

his fingers tighten at your waist. “you’re gonna regret this in the morning.”

you smile, all soft and lazy. “guess we’ll find out.”

#3. a breathy demand, “kiss me”, and what the other person does in response.

[yukioos]

BED CHEM

SUMMARY: viktor x reader // you and mel walk down the hallways of piltover university when suddenly, you encounter two men trying to break into a professor’s laboratory.

AUTHORS NOTE: hiii!! so sorry i haven’t posted in a while. season 2 of arcane broke my heart, but it was so cool. anyway, im working on an ashley and ada writing atm, but pls be patient. this is 1.2k words and something i randomly thought of because of a pinterest comment under a photo of viktor

WARNINGS: trying to break into a room, reader is interpreted as feminine because of a long dress and heels, reader is a councilor, not proofread

as a new member of the piltover council, you’ve been the busiest you’d been in your life. constant laws to vote on and tedious, frequent meetings could make you feel annoyed at times. however, you made a new friend, who you’ve become extremely close with in the past couple of years.

you and mel knew each other when you were younger, just never hung out as much as you do now. despite not having strong connections to one another at a young age, it opposes how you are now. she’s invited you to her nightly scouting at piltover university.

it isn’t an interesting activity to do, but you love hanging out with mel. during these times when you explore the large university for hours, you find much time to converse with the noblewoman. sometimes you and she hold your giggles after telling the other a joke, not wanting to alert a trespasser.

this night doesn’t seem to be unlike all the others. you walk down the decorated halls of piltover university with a flashlight in hand. your flowy black dress hangs low to your ankles, and your and mel’s heels clack against the tile floor.

you and mel whisper amongst one another, she asks, “have you had your eye on anyone lately?” smirking softly and side-eyeing you.

you gasp and your cheeks flush, “‘course not, mel! i just… have not found the right person yet, i guess.” your smile diminishes.

your heels continue to clack against the ground, and you feel a cold breeze on your bare arms and leg, exposed due to the slit dress. you shiver and rub your hand on your arm, keeping the flashlight in front of you.

there’s a moment of silence between you two when mel hesitatingly speaks up, “maybe jayce has a friend you will feel… attracted to.”

“eh, i’ll just not do much. maybe let the universe pull me to the right person instead, yeah? i would hate to waste my time on the wrong person—“

she places her arm in front of you, squinting and giving you a look. you tilt your head before you begin to hear voices, and you quietly turn your flashlight off. mel keeps hers on, and the two of you tip-toe closer to the noise. it seems to be close to heimerdinger’s office, if you remember the university layout correctly.

“so far, so good—“ a man with a thick accent whispers, as if trying to hide his actions.

mel turns the flashlight on, and you cross your arms. the two men shield their eyes, and you recognize one as jayce talis. you tilt your head at the sight of the other man with brown hair and a defined jawline, who is turning a key into the door labeled ‘pf. heimdinger.’

mel taunts, “hmm. willing to risk exile for your endeavor. that’s quite the conviction.”

“councilor!” jayce interrupts, “what a surprise to see you, huh?”

then, the mysterious man comes up with an excuse, “wait a minute, this isn’t my bedroom. how could i have…”

jayce stands up from his knees and pleads with you and mel, “please. we can prove that it works.”

mel comes up with a contradiction as fast as lightning, she hums, “hmm. you couldn’t do so earlier today, how is tonight any different?”

“we figured out how to stabilize it.” the pale man replies.

he eyes are sharp toward the noblewoman until his gaze travels to you. his eyes widen and his cheeks flush, he can feel himself becoming warmer and warmer. you can tell he’s observing you and your actions, as well as your attire.

god, you’re beautiful.

he doesn’t say many words over the next couple of seconds, but you smile at him, warming his heart quickly. he’s knocked out of his mind when mel speaks.

“you’re the professor’s assistant,” she refers to the man with the keys.

jayce disagrees, “no, he’s my new partner.”

you nervously chime in, sticking close to mel, “even if you manage to prove your theory, the other council members would destroy it.”

“heimerdinger will recognize the potential, miss l/n,” the handsome man says.

he knows your name!

mel scoffs, and she’s not having any of their crap, “he already does. it scares him. it scares them all.”

“what about you, miss l/n? you are on the council, correct?” jayce’s partner asks. his eyebrows furrow in curiosity, and your heart melts at his eyebrows twitching upwards.

you ponder for a few seconds, staring at him and slickly moving closer to the man. you respond, taking a few moments to think of how to form a sentence in front of such an attractive guy, “i think any worthwhile venture includes risk. and please, call me y/n.”

you hear whistling from the hallway, and you give mel a glance that makes her infer, ‘we need to make a decision quickly.’

“councilors, this technology, it’s real. and no matter what happens here, it’s going to change our world. we should be the ones to lead it. piltover, the land of progress, equality, innovation. i know it sounds impossible, but when have we ever let that stop us? please, just give us a chance.” jayce explains.

you glance at mel, and you assume she’s left the decision to you. you reply with a sigh, “one night, you two. i want to see in the morning how you have progressed your technology.”

“thank you, councilor l/n,” the one in the white tie thanks.

you quietly nod and smile, waving to them as mel gently pulls your arm and turns the flashlight off. she goes on to distract and talk to harold, the enforcer. as you step down the hall, you glance behind you to hardly see the nameless man staring at you back. he then gets pulled into the room by jayce, who seems urgent to work on the high-end technology.

as councilor medarda’s flashlight flicks off, and you and mel walk away, viktor’s still standing near the entrance of the laboratory. he sees a shine in your eyes even through the dark hallway, however, he doesn’t know if you can see him as well.

he doesn’t even notice jayce has unlocked the door until he gets pulled in by the taller man.

“you were ogling at councilor l/n.” jayce grins, teasing his partner.

“i was not. that would be unprofessional and inappropriate. plus, we are here to work on hextech,” he attempts to change the subject, “we should get working on it.”

“i’ll work with mel to set you two up.” jayce objects, rolling his eyes and chuckling at the slender figure.

viktor couldn’t pass up that opportunity.

“who’s the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?” you ask mel, walking away from the enforcer.

she grins at you, showing her perfect teeth, “that was viktor. and from what i can tell, he’s interested in you.”

as you continue to walk down the hallway, leaving the university to travel toward your bedroom, you go to sleep with a happy feeling in your chest.

[brokenmenswhore]

idk if this is crazy but poly!maruraders x reader where r is blindfolded and she has to guess which of her bfs is fucking her

😃😃🥲🥲😞😞

oh it’s crazy but OH did you come to the right place for that

guess | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)

a/n: you wanna guess the color of my underwear you wanna know what i got goin on down there

────── ☾ ──────

“You just tell us if anything becomes too much, alright?” James said, tying the silk fabric behind your head tight enough that it fully enveloped your eyes in darkness.

“Okay,” you said.

Remus bent forward in front of you, and you could feel his presence, but you weren’t sure exactly where he was.

“Can you see me?” he asked.

You nodded your head no. “Can’t see a thing.”

“Perfect,” Remus smiled, and you could hear the satisfaction in his voice, even if you couldn’t see him, “now remember the rules. If you guess who’s fucking you correctly, you get to come. Now, Sirius,” Remus turned toward his friend, “start it.”

Sirius lowered the needle onto the outer edge of the record, allowing the music to fill your ears to further deafen your senses.

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, laying back against the pillows as you breathed heavy in anticipation.

One of your boyfriends began to softly run his hands up your legs, stopping when he got to the tops of your thighs. They all wore gloves to eliminate the possibility of you recognizing their touch, and the cloth felt soothing against your skin.

You felt the bed dip between your legs as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he placed kisses on top of your folds.

You shuddered, instinctively trying to grab at his hair, but your unoccupied boyfriends held an arm each to ensure you wouldn’t get lost in the pleasure and slip up. If you could feel their hair, you would be able to tell exactly who it was.

He parted your folds with his tongue, gently circling your clit as you shifted your hips to silently beg for more.

The boy between your legs moved an arm to hold down your stomach as he picked up the pace, flicking your bud and sucking at your clit quickly.

“Fuck,” you sighed, lips parting as you couldn’t help but moan.

Just as he began to get you worked up, he slowed down again, intentionally throwing you off with his pacing so as not to give away which boyfriend of yours he was. They all had their specific techniques, and he didn’t want to risk giving himself away.

You were unable to move your hips underneath is tight grip, so you just whined in anticipation. Each time he quickened his pace, you began to whimper and moan as you got closer and closer to your climax, and right when the coil in your lower stomach began to tighten, he slowed back down and left you wet and needy again.

You felt a tap on your shoulder, signaling you to take your guess if you wanted to come.

One of your boyfriends stayed between your legs, tasting you excruciatingly slowly. You tried to rack your brain for how you felt, and which one of them could make you feel like this.

You figured it wasn’t James- he could hold you down much harder, and his eating out technique was not something he could easily hide. With respect to your other boyfriends, if this was James, you’d have come already.

It was a genuine 50/50 guess between Remus and Sirius.

“I- fuck, Remus?” you guessed.

The boy between your legs disconnected his lips from you, and you felt him leave the bed, your body shivering from the sudden cold air on your core.

“Not me, baby,” Remus said from next to you, dropping your wrists, “better luck next time.”

You wiggled your hips and pouted, “come on, this is no fair.”

“What’s no fair is you don’t appreciate the head I give you,” James chuckled.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, but it wasn’t like they could see it much. “That was you?” you asked.

“Mhm. You taste sweet today, baby.”

“But- but you-“

“Couldn’t give you the same head I always do, now could I? This game would be no fun,” James whispered, leaning down next to your ear and placing a kiss on your cheek.

James stood up, and you heard faint, distant whispering, but you couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.

You obnoxiously cleared your throat to remind the three boys that you were ready and waiting and anxious to come.

“Alright, angel, you want more?” James teased, and you nodded your head furiously as you felt one of the boys spread your legs open and settle down on the bed between them.

They all fell silent again, intent on not giving away who was about to fuck you.

The boy between your legs leaned over you, and you felt the bed dip next to your head where he placed his arm for leverage. He lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance, pushing only a little in before pulling back out and watching in amusement as you moaned in anticipation.

“Please,” you nearly whispered.

He so desperately wanted to make you suffer, wanted to taunt you, wanted to make you ask for what you wanted- but he couldn’t speak or you would immediately know who it was.

Instead, he just pushed the tip in again, stilling for a brief moment before pulling back out.

You writhed beneath him, nearly crying from need as you clenched around air.

The boy took pity on you, slamming his entire length into you and immediately fucking in and out of you. He knew that if he stilled his entire length inside of you, you may be able to identify him.

He wanted to take it slow and torture you, but he had to move fast enough that it wasn’t obvious who he was. Your three boyfriends were all different, and your body adjusted and reacted differently to each of them.

Your back arched as he continued to fuck into you, moans freely slipping from your lips as your body squeezed his cock in appreciation for the stimulation.

You tried not to lose yourself in the pleasure, but you were desperate to come. You knew the trouble you would be in if you did so without guessing correctly who was fucking you, so you tried your best to focus on figuring it out.

Each thrust of his hips hit your cervix, and though he was rough, he wasn’t fucking you so ridiculously hard that he had to put in any extra effort to hit your sweet spot. He could without trying.

Your thoughts went cloudy as he pounded into you harder, losing his self control as he fucked into you faster and faster. He was close to losing this game for you.

He wrapped his arm around your back, his gloved hand gripping your hip as he snapped his hips into you, the new lifted position causing him to bump your clit with each thrust.

You threw your head back as he became selfish, nearly forgetting about maintaining anonymity.

You felt the tap on your shoulder, and you couldn’t bring yourself to think about it. You said what felt right.

“S- Sirius,” you moaned.

Sirius leaned down, allowing his hair to fall in front of his face as he whispered in your ear, “good girl.”

The praise sent you over the edge, as did the confirmation that you had guessed correctly. You came hard, squeezing Sirius’s cock as your thighs shook around him.

He continued to fuck you through your high, chasing his own as you cried out at the overstimulation.

He groaned on your ear, leaning over you as he held your hips against his. With a final few harsh snaps of his hips, he came inside of you, moaning so low that only you could hear. The noises were meant for you and only you.

Sirius caught his breathing before guiding his cock out of you and gently placing your hips back down onto the mattress.

Remus, from beside you, untied your blindfold and removed it from your face. You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the unfamiliarity of the light.

“You have fun?” James teased.

“Mhm,” you vocalized, stretching your body out before leaning onto your side, “it was hot, but Remmy didn’t get a turn.”

Remus giggled at your pouting, “you rest for a little, and then I’ll take my turn, hm?”

You smiled as he placed a kiss on your nose, whispering, “except you’ll know it’s me, everyone will when they hear you.”

You playfully gasped as he smiled at you, standing tall and holding his hand out to you. “Let’s get you cleaned up before that though, yeah?”

[misstycloud]

What about a yandere playboy x revenge-driven reader?

Yandere! Playboy is the guy on campus. How can he not be? He has everything a person could ever want. He is wealthy, handsome and has many friends. Best of all qualities; he’s great in bed.

Yandere! Playboy has been hitting beds for years now. He is young and has a right to live life to the fullest, so why shouldn’t he enjoy himself while he still can? His parents doesn’t approve of this behaviour but what can they do to stop him? Besides, he’s already told his father that he’ll find someone to settle down with when he’s older and fit to take over the company. He doesn’t want to lose the privileged life he has so it’s in his best favour to just do what his dad tells him to and find someone to marry later.

It wouldn’t reflect well on the company if its leader is a scandalous, immature playboy after all.

Yandere! Playboy who has been with most of the people on campus. The only exception are the ones he and his friends consider ‘too ugly’ or ‘just not up to standards’- which can be due to anything. It’s basically become a game by this point; who in the friend group can be the college’s number one player.

Yandere! Playboy who almost let his friend surpass him in that department. It was a close call. Good luck he found a cute girl in time so he could drive up his score just above his friend’s. He noticed her at a party. He hadn’t seen her around before so he guessed she was new. The girl looked very out-of-place, standing in a corner while everyone else were letting loose. Did she come alone? Whatever, it didn’t matter. Quickly he snatched her up. She definitely wasn’t the best he’s had, nowhere near it in fact. She was an average fuck at best. It was only after he’d brought her home and fucked her until she cried, that he realised his mistake. After the deed was done she was awfully clingy. She wrapped her arms around him and tried to nuzzle his neck, much to his dismay.

Yandere! Playboy hastily pushed her off and asked her what she thought she was doing. Confused, she responded that she just wanted to cuddle since what they did was so special. Oh no, he thought. She was one of those girls who thought hooking up once meant ‘relationship’. How could he be so stupid? He knew better than to take ‘sweet’ girls with him, they always ended up deluding themselves they were a couple. Sternly, he told her to get out. This made her confused and she wondered if she’d done something wrong.

“Yes, you’ve done something wrong.”

“What was it? Please tell me.” She whispered in a small voice.

He sneered at her. “You think we’re a couple now or some shit. Sorry to burst your bubble but we’re not together.”

The girl bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. “We’re…not? Then why would you-“

“-don’t think you’re special. I just didn’t want my pal’s fuck-score to get higher than mine and you were the first decent thing I could find.”

Afterward he kicked her out. He didn’t give a shit that she was crying. Her feelings didn’t matter to him. No one’s feelings mattered to him besides his own. It was her own fault for getting her hopes up. She was cute, don’t get him wrong. But she seemed way too much of a goody two-shoes for him.

Yandere! Playboy who went about life normally after that. Occasionally he did see his latest lay around campus but she never approached him, instead she chose to send him a sad glance now and then. Pathetic.

Yandere! Playboy had been so caught up with a bunch of school work, he swore the professors had it out for him. After all that tediousness he deserved a break. He needed to relax and there was only one way to do that correctly. Unfortunately his regular ‘buddies’ were unavaliable, he’ll have to find someone else tonight.

Yandere! Playboy who searched the room filled with dancing, intoxicated people. The constantly colour-switching lights made him dizzy. No matter how much he searched he could not see anyone who’d caught his interest. He was about to give up when someone finally got his attention. It was you. Gosh you were just gorgeous. Wow, he thought. He hadn’t seen anyone like you before. Luckily you appeared to notice him too. He seductivle licked his lips while staring into your eyes and was happy when you showed equal interest.

Yandere! Playboy who didn’t waste a minute and went right up to you. You were been hotter up close. This was going to be fun, he thought as he led you upstairs.

Yandere! Playboy was in shock. What the hell just happened? The morning light shone directly in his face but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. After he’d brought you to his room for what he’d imagined to be a usual fun night, he’d been fully surprised. You were nothing short of amazing. He couldn’t recall a moment when he’d ever felt so good. Usually he was the one to lead but you took over as if for was the most natural thing in the world. Never in his life had he been so thoroughly explored. The bruises on his body still ached when he moved.

He needed more.

Yandere! Playboy became obsessed afterwards. He had to see you again. All those years of sleeping around could never amount to the pleasure he felt that night with you and he desperately wanted to feel it again. Sadly, it was like you vanished. Did you not go to the same college? He asked around but no one knew you. Strange, he thought. Weeks passed and there was still no sign of you. He was incredibly pent up now. He had been focused on finding you that he hadn’t taken anyone home since. His friends thought he was acting way to obsessed with his random person and needed to calm down. Perhaps if he spent time with someone he’d cool off. They see him up to meet one of his regular ‘buddies’ who was more than happy to see him again.

Yandere! Playboy tried to recreate the experience with them but it didn’t work. They were all clumsy and didn’t know how to make anything feel good. He couldn’t even finish that time. Frustrated, he threw them out and told them he wanted to be alone. Why wasn’t it working? What went wrong? And why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about you? It made him want to tear his hair out.

While he was deeply grumbling about his newfound problem, he was interrupted by a knock on his door. He shouted at the person to leave him alone but the knocking didn’t stop. He ripped the door open and was prepared to scream at the other person when his eyes widened in surprise. He was speechless.

There in the doorway stood you. You gave him a wicked smile, “Can I come in?”

Yandere! Playboy practically became your dog after that. He knows your name now, (Y/n). He shudders just thinking about it. Turns out you do go to another college and you’re not the most social person which explains why no one had heard of you. Not only are you fantastic on the outside, he finds you to be a wonderful person too. The more you’ve hung out, the more he’s gotten to know about you. He currently knows these five things: you always have a way to make him laugh, you share many hobbies(some which he can’t talk about even with his closest friends), you value his opinion, never talk down to him, and he absolutely loves you.

Yandere! Playboy who immediately cuts off his previous hook ups. You’re the only one for him. There isn’t a soul out there who can be your match. All of his friends have become so annoying. All they say is about how much he’s changed and it’s crazy how he’s doing a complete 180 for one single person. He ignores them. If they can’t see how perfect you are then that’s their loss, and he can’t be friends with them anymore. The only ones happy about this change are his parents.

He recalls his father saying, “So you’ve finally decided to be a real man and stop with your foolishness.”

“Yes. I have found my one and only love, the person I’m going to marry.”

His father nodded. Yandere! Playboy smiled. He had all intention to follow up with his statement. He loved you and based of your reactions around him, he’d say you loved him too.

Yandere! Playboy who was all giddy as he waited for you at the restaurant you’d decided to meet in. You had been hanging out for months now and he thought it was time to ask you to be his official partner(future spouse). It was a perfect setting. He has brought a bouquet of flowers and put on nice clothes. The ambiance was just right.

He waited.

You weren’t there yet, but sometimes you ran a little late.

He waited some more.

You still weren’t there. That’s all right! He’ll sit there until you arrive.

He sat in his chair long enough to see the staff send him pitiful looks. Where were you? It had been far too long for you to simply be ‘running a little late’. Did you get into an accident? He prayed nothing had happened to you. Quickly he pulled out his phone and sent you a text. Or well, he tried to.

‘Unable to send message’

What? He didn’t understand. Why wasn’t his text getting through? Did you…block him? No that wasn’t possible. There was no reason you would do that. You loved him. He loved you. You wouldn’t block him. All of his attempts to contact you went into the garbage. When he called; direct to voicemail. He tried looking for you, although that proved to be a lot harder than he thought. It was then he realised he had no idea where you lived. You were always at his place and he never questioned it. He went to your college and asked if anyone had seen you but they all said they didn’t know anyone by the name of (Y/n) who went there. Did you lie about where you went to school?

Yandere! Playboy who became depressed. He couldn’t find you anywhere. You had vanished, just like before. Except this time you never came back. His head was filled with questions. Where were you? Are you safe? Why did you leave him? Didn’t you love him too? He fell into despair. His parents wanted to help him and so did the friends he abandoned for you (they came back, he couldn’t understand why), but nothing they did helped. They weren’t you.

Please come back to him, he needs you.

————

A/n: for clarification, the girl in the beginning is reader’s friend.

[ldrfanatic]

Oh Bella

Italian!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

synopsis - 3 times the reader teases Theo’s Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them

cute, lazy fluff, no angst just happy vibes for a happy christmas :)

slytherin boys masterlist works

warning - internet translated Italian

(got these ideas from Ben and Fabio on instagram they’re so funny)

It wasn’t easy to date Theodore Nott. It was always rewarding but it wasn’t always easy.

For starters, Theo grew up in Italy and has one of the thickest Italian accents you’ve ever heard. There were a few times over the course of your relationship that you had to ask him to repeat himself a few times. Like when he was trying to tell you that Draco had invited you out on a double date with himself and Hermione.

You had just woken up from a nap when Theo walked into the Slytherin common room after quidditch practice. He flashed you a breath taking smile and all but skipped up to you as you rubbed your tired eyes. You felt your heart melting in your chest at the sight of your adorable boyfriend.

“Buongiorno Bella.” (good morning beautiful) Theo swooped down and delivered a soft kiss to the side of your face before plopping down next to you on the couch. “Guess what?” You hummed in response as you snuggled deep into his side.

“What’s up Theo?”

“At quidditch practice today, Draco says that you and I, we can go out double with them.”

In your tired brain, Theo’s words made even less sense. You sat up from his side and stared at him with your brows furrowed. “Huh?” Theo stared blankly back at you. He brushed a piece of your hair away from your face.

“Still asleep, Bella?”

You shook your head lightly but it didn’t convince either of you entirely. A chuckle rumbled through Theo and his chest vibrated in laughter.

“Draco says we can go double out with Herminone.”

Now it was your turn to laugh at the way Theo pronounced Hermione’s name. You’d all been friends for about two years now since she and Draco had started dating, but he still couldn’t quite pronounce her name correctly.

Finally deciphering his thick accent and slightly broken, but still cute English, realization dawned upon you. You tried to smother a smile as you stared at your boyfriend in pure adoration. “You mean he invited us to double date with them?”

Theo looked at you for a few seconds before standing up and sighing a little dramatically.

“Mio dio Bella, that’s what I said”

“Mmm of course, Theo.”

So, dating Theodore Nott was not without its challenges. But it also wasn’t without its fun.

1.

It was Mattheo’s birthday so of course the Slytherin common room was filled to the brim with drugs, alcohol, and probably the sluttiest girls in all of Hogwarts. Theo was sitting at a table off in the corner with both of your guys’ drinks and was noticeably uncomfortable in such an environment.

You’d gone to get ice for your sex on the beach when you had a mischevious idea. You scooped a little more ice into the cup and started making your way back to Theo.

You caught sight of Mattheo what was sitting on one of the large couches dead center in the room. He had three girls all over him right now and Lorenzo was giggling uncontrollably as he passed him a joint. Mattheo caught your eye and winked playfully. He liked to flirt with you to rile Theo up a little bit every once in a while.

You finally made it back to your table where Theo was swirling a deep red wine in a glass. His lips quirked up in a small smile as you took your seat next to him. Without speaking, he reached out and pulled your chair impossibly closer to his before throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Ciao Bella.”

Your entire body bloomed at the sound of his thick accent over his husky voice. Warmth settled over you like a fluffy blanket on a snowy morning.

“Ciao Theo.”

The surprise on Theo’s face was more than enough to make you happy that you’d taken up Italian recently. You practiced with Lorenzo in some of your free time and he was a pretty good teacher. You made eye contact with Theo and winked before settling into his side.

Theo immediately became suspicious as you were known for your antics.

“What are you up to Il mio piccolo piantagrane, hm?” (my little troublemaker)

“Nothing Theo, relax.”

He stared at you suspiciously for a few seconds before his body finally loosened.

The opportunity was too great to miss.

You leaned over both of your drinks and dumped ice into your sex on the beach before then dropping a few ice cubes into Theo’s wine.

His reaction was nearly instantaneous.

“Oh! Bella, no! No, no, no!” His lips turned up in disgust and multiple muted expressions left his mouth in what you assumed were Italian swears.

“Che diavolo? Ghiaccio nel vino? No! Il vino è sacro.”

(what the hell? ice in wine? no! wine is sacred.)

A large hand came and ran through his messy curls and the laugh you’d been surprising burst suddenly from your chest. Theo’s eyes snapped to yours and you recognized the mischievous glint.

A squeal left your mouth as you leapt up from your seat and took off around the common room with him hot on your tail.

2.

The second time that you decided to make your poor sweet Italian boyfriend question all decisions to be with you was at dinner one night. You weren’t intentionally teasing him at first as you stared down at your empty plate trying to think of what you wanted.

You glanced over to Theo’s plate next to you and saw a mouthwatering pasta that he’d conjured. You tugged gently on the sleeve of his green sweater and his attention found yours immediately.

“What’s wrong, bellissima?”

“Can you get me some of that, please Theo?”

“Of course.”

He took your plate in his hands and after a few seconds his dish was sitting in front of you. You noted how he made sure there were no tomatoes in yours like there were in his. Theo knew you hated tomatoes. It was so sweet it almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do to his little Italian heart.

Almost.

Theo picked up his fork and started to dig into his food before he stopped abruptly. Lorenzo too stopped eating his own food and the pair stared at you incredulously as you shoveled the pasta into your mouth.

“Oh Bella.”

He seemed more horrified than anything else. You loaded more food into your mouth being careful to eat as much as a lady as you could.

“No.” You stared at him blankly with a sheepish look before resuming your meal. “Bella, no. Twirl. Like this,” Theo picked up his fork and expertly swirled the noodles around before bringing it up to his mouth.

You offered him a gentle grin before promptly resuming what you were doing before. From across the table Lorenzo started whisper screaming at Theo in Italian.

“Theo, Cosa c'è che non va nella tua ragazza? Lei mangia la pasta come una bambina!” (what’s wrong with your girlfriend? she eats pasta like a child!)

Theo stared at you astounded as redness crept up his face. Then it finally dawned on him that you were teasing.

“Bella per favoreee.” He dragged out his words with a small smile on his face at your teasing. You both knew that you knew the proper way to eat pasta.

“No more teasing love.” You nodded through your giggles and Theo wrapped a thick arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

3.

So, you knew that you promised Theo no more teasing last week but when you overheard him and Lorenzo complaining earlier in the most adorable stuttered English you couldn’t help yourself. You were walking down towards the common room to get lunch with the boys.

Theo, Lorenzo, and Mattheo were sitting in the common room all having a discussion. Suddenly you heard your boyfriend’s sweet Italian symphony of a voice shift into one of astonishment. You peeked around the corner and saw both him and Lorenzo staring at Mattheo like he’d just said the most offensive thing ever.

“What do you mean you have the cappuccino in the afternoon, huh?” His fingers came to rub at his temples and you had to stifle your laugh behind your hand. “Puah! cappuccino è solo per la mattina.” (Cappuccino is only for the morning).

Mattheo stared blankly at the two. Finally you decided to step in before the vein in Theo’s forehead burst.

“Theo? I’m ready.”

By the time that you made it to the Great Hall, the boys seemed to have forgotten about their earlier conversation. Mattheo walked quietly in step next to you while Theo and Lorenzo conversed in Italian so quickly your head was spinning.

“Psst. Y/n I have an idea on how to make that little Italian boy of yours blow a fuse.”

(“Maledizione Lorenzo, non credi che se sapessi cosa regalarle non andrei fuori di testa?”)

You cursed yourself that you couldn’t understand what they were saying. After staring at the side of Theo’s handsome face for a few moments longer you let out a disgruntled noise and turned to Mattheo.

“Fine! What?”

And that was how you found yourself in this situation.

Trying your absolute hardest to keep a straight face without looking at Theo at all while you sipped on your cappuccino that you’d conjured in your cup.

“Oh Bella.”

Theo’s familiar distressed tone rang out from next to you. “You cannot be series, amore mio.”

“Do you mean serious, Theo?” Mattheo chimed in with an amused smirk.

Theo made a dismissive Italian noise and waved Mattheo off. He swore under his breath before grabbing the side of your face and turning it to him. “Bellissima, it is too late for a cappuccino!”

You smirked up at your distraught boyfriend and pressed a quick kiss to the softness of his cheek. “I know, amore.”

Theo stared at you before throwing his hands up in the air and turning back towards his lunch. Mattheo’s deep laugh burst out and you couldn’t help yourself but to laugh along with him.

You were so busy laughing you hadn’t noticed that Theo was staring at you with a smile. He was so very in love with you.

+ one time you celebrated Theo’s Italian roots

April 25th was meant to be celebratory. La Festa della Resistenza. And Theodore Nott was stuck at quidditch practice.

Meanwhile, you were scurrying around the common room with Lorenzo trying to set up the perfect surprise for Theo. With Italy’s Liberation Day approaching, you’d noticed Theo had been a little down lately. You knew that it was because he was missing his family.

Normally, his mother would prepare a big feast and the family would sing the song of the resistance, Bella Ciao. You’d taken a floo to his home in Italy and gotten some recipes from his mother directly, all his favorites. And now, you were trying desperately to teach a group of first year Slytherins how to sing the song that you’d been practicing for weeks.

You sighed deeply as you realized the little buggers you bribed with a few galleons each were not at all going to get the song down in time. You conjured your purse and shelled out a few galleons to each child before shooing them out of the common room.

By the time Theo got back from quidditch practice, everything was perfect. You were standing in the center of the room in a deep red dress that you knew was his favorite. When he saw the spread, Theo thought his heart might stop. You looked nothing short of stunning.

“Oh Bella.”

It didn’t hold any of the distress that it normally did. This time his tone was thick with adoration. Theo felt a lump moving up his throat that caught tears behind his eyes. His heart clenched in his chest. This was one of the most thoughtful things that anyone had ever done for him.

Just when he was certain you couldn’t get anymore perfect, your sweet voice rang out in an impossibly beautiful symphony that rivaled Pavarotti.

“Una mattina mi sono alzato

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

Una mattina mi sono alzato

E ho trovato l'invasor.”

Theo held you closer to his chest and pressed his forehead against yours as he joined for the next verse.

“O partigiano, portami via

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

O partigiano, portami via

Che mi sento di morir.”

The two of you swayed as Lorenzo joined and the three of you sang the rest of the song together. When you finished, you all made plates and sat down in the common room.

“When did you learn all of this, Bella?”

You smiled gently at Theo while he stared at you like you were the most perfect being in the world.

“I took a trip to Italy to see your mother a little bit ago. She told me about La Festa della Resistenza the Celebration of the Resistance. She talked about how important it was to Italy’s history and that it marked the Resistance victory in the Italian Civil War. Then when I saw how sad you were to be away from home at this time I knew I had to do something.”

In that moment, Theo knew that there wasn’t anybody he’d ever loved as much as he loved you. He took your face in both of his hands and pressed a deep kiss to your lips.

“This is perfect, bellissima, thank you so much.”

[dorkszn]

COME AND GET THAT + logan howlett

SYNP — being home for the summer from school isn’t so bad. it isn’t so bad until your motorcycle stops working. and your dad tells you to call over the man that inspired you to get the bike in the first place and the closest one who could fix it, his best friend and your longtime crush, logan.

WARNINGS — masc reader, age gap ( no duh ), reader’s dad is kinda a dick, subbot reader, oral, petnames, logan’s a little mean, slight degradation, kitchen sex, hair pulling, eventual smut, porn with plot | 3.4K ( im sorry 😭 )

PART TWO ( coming soon )

Summertime. It’s such a wonderful time. You get out of school and can drive back to your hometown. You see your parents and siblings and get to flop onto the mattress of your old childhood bedroom.

But your favorite part? Getting to see your dad’s best friend, Logan. Who seems only to be getting hotter and hotter with each passing year. Only maybe you’re just getting more worked up and shy with every year that passes because each summer you can barely stand to look him in the eye or be alone in a room with him.

You’ve been home for about a week or two by this point, getting back into the comfort and schedule of your hometown life. Luckily but also somehow unfortunately, you have yet to see Logan since you returned. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know you’re home.

So imagine your surprise when you’re standing outside of your parent’s house with your dad, examining your sleek motorcycle that just wouldn’t start. You know how to do basic motorcycle care that of course, Logan taught you. He was the one who inspired and motivated you to get the damn bike anyways. So why were you surprised when your dad suggested calling him?

“Guess I’ll give Logan a call and see if he’s busy. He should know how to fix it,” your father says in a small sigh as he stands up straight.

“Wait, call Logan?” You repeat even though you know it’s dumb question and that you were just nervous to see him again since winter break.

“Yeah, Logan, you got a problem with that or something, squirt?” Your father responds slightly mockingly as he repeats your obviously odd question. You just grumble slightly under your breath.

“No, dad, just… go ahead and call em’,” you say in a sigh as the two of you stalk back towards the house. After that, it only takes half an hour before the inevitable and you see that familiar pickup pull into your driveway.

You reluctantly trail behind your dad like a clingy pup instead of a grown man to go greet Logan. You don’t miss the way he smirks with his signature cigar between his lips as he very slowly drags his eyes on your body.

“And when was I gonna find out my favorite college kid was home?” Logan asks gruffly, plucking the cigar from his lips with an outlet of smoke. His voice damn near sends shivers down your spine everytime you hear it.

You just opt for shrugging and giving him a casual smile. “Find out when you find out, I guess,” you say and of course, he lets out that little chuckle and snort that you love so much.

Logan puts his calloused, large hand out for you to greet him correctly only for him to grab your hand and pull you into him. You can’t help the small, very unmanly yelp that leaves you when he grabs you so suddenly. The smell of him hitting you so quick it damn near makes your mind spin. Cigars and ash and wood and leather and just him. Gosh, it almost drives you so crazy you barely notice the light headlock he put you in.

When you do finally notice, it definitely does not help the flare of heat in the pit of your stomach. You try to brush it off, tugging at his incredibly strong and veiny biceps with a small grin to pry him off of you. Finally, he releases you and you can’t help but take in a relieved breath.

“Still as much of a little shit as ever, kid,” Logan taunts, placing his cigar back between his lips. Lips that you wanted to feel on yours so bad. “You sure you ain’t getting smaller with each year?”

You roll your eyes for the second time that night. He knew you weren’t getting smaller. It just seemed like he was getting bigger even at his grown age. And damn, is he big. 6 feet 2 inches and 205 pounds of pure muscle. “Yeah, I’m sure, Logan,” you end up mumbling in response as you stuff your hands in your pockets.

Logan just chuckles again. “Yeah, okay,” he responds sarcastically. With another puff of smoke, he looks to your father then your bike. “So, what’s the problem, Bub?” He inquires.

You trail your father as he walks Logan over to your motorcycle. The same model he recommended years ago. You barely listen as your father explains the situation to his best friend, your eyes stuck to the man in the red flannel.

“Looks like you just need an oil change, kid. And your fuel filters clogged,” Logan says in a small grunt as he stands from his kneeling position next to your bike.

“Damn, squirt, you can’t tell when you need an oil change?” Your dad questions, pinching the bridge of his nose. You frown slightly and your brows furrow.

“I just didn’t notice, okay?” You grumble in reply.

Your father sighs before looking back at Logan. “Could ya fix it, Howlett?” Your father questions, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah, could change the oil if the kid wants. The fuel filter, on the other hand, you’re gonna have to replace the part. I’m assuming you don’t just got one layin’ around here,” Logan explains and he dusts his palms off.

“Perfect. Time for the kid to learn to do something for himself,” your father says with a grin of mock-approval. Oh, how you wish your mother was here instead. Logan just lets out a small chuckle that seems just a little bit forced. “Well, I gotta head off to work. Help Logan out, will ya? Get him whatever he needs or asks for.” Your father sighs to you.

He’s going to leave? The two of you? Alone? Does he actually want you to pass away? “Yeah, dad, I got it,” you say to cover up the way your heart almost immediately started racing. Then it was only minutes later before you were watching your father pull out of your driveway and zip down the street, leaving just you and Logan.

Logan turns to you and damn you could almost feel the way he looked at you. You nervously pull your eyes away from the street and to Logan who offers you his usual smirk when you look at him. “Get me your old man’s box, will ya?” He requests.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmur before turning and walking back towards the house to get your dad’s toolbox. And are you being paranoid or is he definitely watching you walk away?

You eventually come back with your dad’s toolbox in hand. Logan turns to you when he hears your footsteps despite them being damn near silent. He’s always so astute and aware. It scares you and somehow turns you on at the same time.

“Atta boy,” Logan says as he takes the box from you and holds it like it weighs nothing more than a bottle of water. “Thanks, kid.”

Atta boy. Gosh, what would you give to hear him say that again. “Yeah, no problem,” you respond. You can’t help but watch him for a few minutes before turning and walking back towards the house. Your father would definitely force you to stay and watch Logan so you could “actually do something right.” But thankfully and also unfortunately, he isn’t there and Logan could care less.

And for the next 45 minutes, you spend your time inside trying to distract yourself from the man outside. The man you were home alone with. You leave the door ajar just in case he needs anything which of course he doesn’t. He’s just that good, right?

You lean against your kitchen counter, feeding your cat, James, a blonde cat who is somehow more accident prone than you are, blueberries. Your mind is practically running on autopilot out of boredom. But you’re acutely aware of the sound of the front door opening and shutting. As well as the heavy footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

Logan turns the corner, his flannel gone, leaving him in just a tanktop and jeans. A tanktop that practically put all of him on display. The muscles and veins in his arms, the firmness of his chest. Specifically that vein on his right biceps that runs all the way down to his forearm.

There’s a few oil marks staining his skin, on his neck and arms and chest. A little on his cheek. How the hell did he get that dirty? Hell, not like you’d know. You hardly touch the inside of that motorcycle, willingly.

His dog tags hanging perfectly in between his pecs. How you would love to trade places with those things right now. “S’all done, Bub,” Logan tells you as he steps further into the kitchen.

“Right, yeah, thanks,” you say, reluctantly stopping your ogling to grab him a water from the fridge. Logan flicks his hands as he finishes washing them and takes the water from you. He leans against the counter across from you.

“How’s college treatin’ ya?” He inquires, watching as you feed James another piece of fruit.

“It’s okay, nothing special. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice school but it’s not like it’s Ivy League or anything,” you answer in a small shrug as you pop a blueberry into your own mouth. Logan can’t help but watch your lips and throat as you do so. His eyes shamelessly trained on you.

“Well atleast you got somethin’ going for ya,” Logan murmurs, finally looking away as he folds his arms over his chest. “Got a boyfriend waiting there too?” He asks. You give him a look. He chuckles. “Or a girlfriend.” Logan adds.

You just roll your eyes which contrasts the smile on your face. “Answers no to both,” you answer, watching James pluck the blueberry from your fingers. And Logan feels a little too happy to see that little smile on your face again.

“Really?” Logan replies, raising a brow in response. “Those little college kids to stupid to see what’s in front of em’ or something?”

You look over to him and see his little eyebrow raise, a quiet snort leaving you. “I don’t know. I just don’t talk to people like that. Hard to be seen when you’re acting invisible, y’know?” You say nonchalantly.

“Gotta put yourself out there one day, Bub,” Logan sighs. “Can’t keep comin’ back to this place and just hoping for it.” You watch him as he speaks and you can’t help the way your eyes repeatedly drop down to the soot on his muscles. You gotta get those stains off before you go nuts.

“It’s more of a choice than anything,” you tell him as you turn and grab a clean rag from one of the lower cabinets. Logan’s sharp eyes follow you as you move around the kitchen. “People there just don’t really “impress” me.” You add as you wet the rag with warm water.

“Oh, boys there ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Logan questions teasingly, that grin returning to his face. You step in front of him and hold out the damp rag to him. Logan silently gestures to his skin in response.

You swallow and suddenly, your heart is beating a million beats a minute. Your eyes fall from his to his chest and neck as you slowly reach the rag to his skin. “Nah,” you finally answer lowly as you begin to gently scrub at his skin. “All the way in university and still ain’t mature enough.” You mutter, watching the oil stains fade away under the rag.

Logan’s eyes are low as he looks down at you, his eyes trained on your face and lips as you speak and wipe him down. “Oh right, not mature enough f’ya,” Logan murmurs. “Need an older guy to take care of you… don’t ya?”

Your hand pauses on his chest and your eyes move back up to his. A swirl of desire and need mixing in his dark eyes. His gaze alone almost makes you shutter. “Yeah… think I do,” I say in a slightly hoarse whisper.

Not knowing what else to do, you let out a barely there breath and raise the rag, going to swipe at some of the stains on his cheeks. Your heart almost stops in your chest when he grabs your wrist instead. His other hand comes up to grab your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

“And what would your old man think about that, huh?” Logan questions lowly, his breath fanning your lips. You part your lips to answer but your words get caught in Logan’s rough lips. Your whole body tenses up for a moment before immediately melting into him.

You let him hold you, you let him push you back into the other counter behind you. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of his earlier cigar still lingering. But it only serves to make you weaker. You groan into his mouth as his large hand suddenly slips from your wrist to your crotch, squeezing you through your sweatpants.

“School got you all pent up, yeah?” Logan asks in a huff of a breath as he just barely pulls away from your lips. Once again, he steals your lips before you can answer. Palming you through your sweatpants while his tongue explores every inch of your mouth.

He’s not wrong. It’s been just you and your hand for months now. And somehow Logan just barely touching you through your sweats is better than any night of you fucking your fist.

You can’t help but whine into his mouth when he pulls away, his hand running over your hips and waist instead. But the feeling of him pressing himself against you in his jeans quickly silences your whines. His half-erect cock grinding against your as he rolls his hips. Logan pulls back in a low groan, a thin shiny string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips.

“Been thinking ‘bout you since winter, Bub. Y’know that? Pretty ass been on my mind for fucking months,” Logan says to you in a heavy breath as he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip. You just look up at him, still in slight shock at it all but your mind falling prey to the pleasure and want.

“What? You wanna do something about that?” You question quietly, your voice not matching your smug and suggestive words.

Logan smirks down at you a bit. “Damn right,” he answers, his hand on your chin shifting to your hair as he grabs a fistful of it and tilts your head to the side. His hips rolling against your again as he sinks his teeth into neck. His name falling from your lips in a whimper.

Your hand subconsciously falls to his belt, weakly trying to still his hips against yours which of course doesn’t work. Logan pulls his teeth from your neck while simultaneously guiding your hand down from his belt to the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Feel that, pretty boy? Feel what you’re doing t’me?” Logan mutters against your bruising skin. And you do feel him. A lot of him. It made you lose your breath further while shooting sparks of further arousal to your gut. “Wanna help me out, Bub? Little favor for changin’ your oil?” He requests as he sucks at your flesh, hungrily and greedily.

You move almost immediately to your knees. Breath shaking as he backs up just a bit to look down at you. A devilish grin covering his face. “Well, aren’t you just an obedient little thing,” he comments as one of his hands finds his belt, the other still in your hair.

Your heart pounding in your ears as you watch his belt unbuckle, as he unbuttons his jeans and zips them down. Your mouth damn-near watering as he tugs down his pants and boxers just enough for his dick to spring free. And oh, your jaw is going to be aching for hours.

“Look at you, all cock-thirsty. Nobody been givin’ you any attention, huh?” Logan says as he pumps himself a few times, gently guiding your head to his already leaking tip. He doesn’t have to ask before you part your lips. Maybe it was a little pathetic how quickly you dropped for him. But you couldn’t care less at the moment.

You let him sit himself on your tongue and he just basks in the view. A bit of his pre dripping onto the pink muscle. That sight alone pushed him further, pushing his hips forward until he was almost buried in your throat to the hilt. “Damn, pretty boy, you done this before or something?” Logan groans before he’s moving.

His hand in your hair keeping your head still as he begins fucking your throat. You try to keep the tears from glossing up in your eyes as he hits the back of your throat but you can’t. He doesn’t mind.

“Fuck, how has nobody claimed this perfect throat yet? Taking me so fucking well,” Logan grunts, staring right down into your glossy eyes. You let out a choked whimper around him in reply, the vibrations of the sound going straight to Logan’s cock, making his eyes fall shut as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Right, can’t answer with your mouth full of dick, can you?”

Another muffled whimper which results in him tugging on your hair. “Guess your old man was wrong, huh?” Logan pants over the sound of his balls lewdly hitting your chin, a mix of his pre and your own drool slicking the skin. “You did learn to do somethin’ useful. Damn good cock-sucker.”

Your hands hold onto his thighs as he repeatedly stuffs your face to the hilt, his fat tip kissing the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his skin through his jeans only for his eyes to roll in response. A hoarse and gruff “oh fuck” slipping through his teeth. “Been doing this for those college boys? That how you brought your little grade back up?” Logan questions roughly as he looks down to you.

Such a pretty sight you are. Eyes watering, lashes glistening, mouth full, and your lips a wet mess of your fluids.

“Mmm,” your denial doesn’t leave as words, just muffled choked sounds. A small smirk grows on Logan’s face.

“No? Ain’t that a shocker. You’d— shit— you’d make some good fucking money. Sucking cock for cash, clearly doesn't take much to get you to anyways,” Logan says, almost taunting you with his words. Taunting how fast you got on your knees for him.

You can only respond by pressing your tongue flaccid against his cock, feeling his veins pulse over the muscle. Only for him to tug on your hair when you swirl your tongue over his tip. “Fine by me,” Logan says, his voice breaking into a breathy moan. “Pretty little throat is all mine.”

You feel your own hard-on twitch in your pants at that. The idea of being all his. Even if it’s just for the summers and winters. Logan doesn’t miss the way you take him in more greedily, the way you keep letting him glide across your tongue, the way your breathing just barely steadies when you finally find a rhythm.

“Yeah? You like that idea, Bub? Being all mine?” Logan says strained, the snap of his hips growing sloppy and stuttering. All you can do is let out a muffled groan around him, staring up at him with your big eyes as the tears finally slip over. They only worsen their streams as Logan pushes your head down, giving you hardly any room to breathe as his cock twitches and he cums down your throat.

He doesn’t let you go until you’re digging your nails into his thighs again and he finally lets go of your hair. You pull away and practically gasp for the breath you lost. Coughing and heaving and sniffling as dribbles of his release rolling down your chin, followed by your tears.

“You okay down there, Bub? Too much?” Logan asks as he chases his own breath.

“No, no, i—i'm okay,” you manage to get out as you wipe at the tears and your slick chin. Logan’s low eyes drop to the tent in your sweatpants between your legs. His eyes then pull back up to yours.

“What time does your old man get off?”

[butyoudidthis4what]

Perfumer

Jack Abbot x Reader

1.5k || All of my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: none I think. Hinted at sex and suggestiveness but that's about it really.

Summary: Jack smells the perfume you're wearing, flirty fluffy happy teasing ensues. That's it, that's the fic. Established relationship. No use of y/n or related. Zero proofreading of any kind. No beta.

A.N.: The summaries and titles will not be getting better I fear. After getting out some sadness in that last one I just needed something fluffy and happy and flirty. This is very self-indulgent as I love perfume and wish I had Jack Abbot giving me some and then smelling it on me, and telling me I smell good, you know? Honestly I'm quite shocked I wrote anything with like no level of angst in it that was just fluff. But my mental health needed some pure happy fluff with him so here we are. Anyway, this is exceptionally short for me and as with last time this is my first time back writing fanfic in a longggg time so please be gentle and kind and also let me know if you like it! The ending is very open, so there's definitely part two potential depending upon reception and if anyone would like.

“I should have known the trail of smell good was you. You always smell good.” Santos comments as she walks up to you while you stand by the center desk. “Do you own like a thousand perfumes or something?” 

Jack’s head popped up from looking at the tablet in his hands a few rooms down from the desk at ‘smell good,’ correctly assuming it meant you were here. You can feel his eyes on you and look over at him. “Probably not a thousand, but a lot, yes. I collect them.” 

“Why? Aren’t women supposed to want, like, a signature smell or whatever?” She tilts her head at you. 

You start smirking but Robby beats you to it. “Oh, she has to keep Abbot on his toes somehow.” 

“What does that even mean?” She looks between you, Robby, and Jack.

You bite your lip and stifle a laugh. It’s nice, having your relationship out in the open, having been able to get to know Jack’s friends. He’s still quite private though, which you respect, and know Robby is flirting with the line. You weren’t going to go quite as far, but can’t help the way it made you smile, in large part because it’s true.

It’s become somewhat of a game for you and Jack. You wear a different perfume everyday and he guesses what it is. He’s good at it, which isn’t surprising, he’s good at everything he does. It’s a nice way to have a close moment together. He likes buying them for you too to keep the game interesting.

It lets him read your moods a bit too. He’s learned that when you’re a bit down you have a tendency to go for perfumes that are heavier in a sense, more warm and comforting. And if you don’t wear perfume he knows it means things are bad because you don’t want to end up associating a smell with however you’re feeling or what you’re going through. He also swears they mix with your chemistry and smell different at certain times during your cycle. You don’t know why you found the idea of him being able to smell that on you so hot, but you very much did.

Recently you’d taken to layering some of them, in part to be creative and in part to make it more challenging for Jack.

“It means-” Robby starts.

“Okay, can we just not?” Jack asks as he walks over to you, shooting Robby a look and standing next to you. 

“I just think it’s cute how-”

“Still talking.” Jack cuts Robby off. 

“How the tables turn.” Robby shoots back, making Jack roll his eyes. 

“I was just trying to help-” Jack starts.

“Now, now, boys, no fighting in front of the children.” You fake scold them. This time they both roll their eyes at you. 

“Go back to work since you all still want to be here past your shifts.” Jack tells everyone, grabbing your hand and leading you to the doctor’s lounge. 

You expect a kiss and hug now that you’re in private, but instead you’re met with him pressing his chest to your back, one hand coming to hold one of your hips and the other moving your hair off one shoulder and tilting your neck before he leans in close to breathe you in. You can feel the soft skin of one of his lips brush against you and the stubble from him not shaving for a day. 

“Jack,” you breathe, heavier than you mean to, one hand coming to rest on his hand on your hip and the other reaching up to cup his face. 

“Celeste,” he murmurs against your skin. He’s right so you nod. That’s the name of the perfume you’re wearing on your neck and wrists today. “No wonder Santos picked up on you. Heavy sillage.” He gives you a kiss to the neck before pulling back to spin you and give you one to the lips. You smile as he does. “Stop smiling so I can kiss you properly.”

That makes you laugh, but you’re able to control it and in turn he’s able to kiss you properly, how you deserve to be kissed. “I love that you know what that word means and actually used it. It’s kind of hot.” You give him another kiss. “I’m making my military man into a perfumer.”

He hums at you, low and from the back of the throat. He loves it when you call him yours. “If you ever told anyone I would deny all knowledge of having a clue about what sillage and gourmand and all of the other pretentiously fancy perfume related words mean.” 

“I never would. Couldn’t ruin your reputation could I, Dr. Abbot? Plus I like having our little secrets.” You let your voice trail down on the last sentence, run your hands all over his scrub top.

His eyes darken just a little and his jaw tightens. He never really had any sort of title kink before he met you, but there’s something about the way ‘doctor’ slips off your tongue that really gets to him. Same with sir. 

“You’re not here for an ED related reason, are you? Hurt? Sick?” It’s teasing but there’s just enough of a tinge of real concern to the question that melts you. 

“I am not, no. I promise if I ever was here for such a reason I would make sure you knew immediately.” You smile at him softly, run a hand through the salt and peppery curls you love so much. “I just wanted to lay eyes on you, even if only for a moment. I missed you extra today. I’ll let you get back to work.” He nods, the little smile he gives you saying everything it needs to. You share one last kiss before going to leave the room.

“Oh,” you say, turning around and shutting the door again. “You’ve only answered half the question today. I just thought you should know.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You layered scents?”

“No.” You shake your head and smirk. He narrows his eyes a little as he tries to find the answer in your eyes. It suddenly clicks.

“Fuck me, your ankles?” He groans. “You put a different one on your ankles? Why?” He can already feel himself starting to fill out. He doesn’t know if he could articulate why he finds it so hot when you put perfume on your ankles for him to discover but he does. 

Your smirk widens. “For a fun surprise and to see the look on your face when I told you.” He glances around the room and then gets a look on his face like he’s thinking. You’re shocked, honestly. It’s so out of character for him to think about trying to do it at the hospital. It’s only happened twice. “Oh no,” you laugh, “no, no, no, Jack rabbit, you are not finding out here at the hospital, so don’t even think about places you could take me to try and find out.” 

He makes a noise of protest, somewhere between a growl and a whine that makes you bite your lip. He pins your back to the door with his hips and rolls them against you, grinding him into you to let you feel what you’ve done to him. “So what, I’m just supposed to go around like this for the rest of my shift?”

“Well you might want to take a couple of minutes to let that go down baby, but yes. You can finish your shift thinking about what could be on my ankles and what position it is you’re going to put me in to find out.” You press a kiss to his collarbone and his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, an unspoken command to look at him. 

You pull back and do as he asked. So big on eye contact, your Jack. He blinks at you, jaw clenched. “I’m going to be half hard and uncomfortable there for the rest of my shift, you know that right?”

“I am nothing if not a cruel woman.” You say with fake solemnity as you smooth your hands over his chest. “I’m sure as you get drawn back into work it’ll go away. Plus, you know the anticipation and wait makes it better.”

He somehow steps closer to you, almost puts a knee between your legs and leans in close, dropping his voice and making his voice even more gravely. “I want you to remember those words because you’re going to find out all about them once I’m home and I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you threatening to edge me, sir?” His jaw grinds and you see the slightest twitch under your eye that makes you smirk. You love that you can affect him like this.

“I don’t make threats, Doll.” He whispers at your ear as he steps back from you and pulls the door to the lounge open for you both to walk out of. Everyone glances up at the two of you, effectively forcing you to control your reaction as he keeps his voice low, only for you to hear. “Only promises I intend to keep.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Two is here!

[no1blacksapphirefan]

I like this account so I had a request its an aware crk au x player

Player realizing their phone isn't big enought so they decided to connect it to the tv so they can see more of player in the day

Real, gotta see our cookies on a bigger screen. Hopefully I understand the request correctly so here’s you go 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

(No specified characters so did the ones that came to mind)

Shadow Milk loves this. Assuming the fact the cookies are aware of the transfer, he loves the bigger screen. Now technically everything in the kingdom is the same size but now he has essentially a better view of you. He gets to see you sit down on that couch and play around with the other cookies.

Get’s to see you leave and get some food as you watch on another device while eating…your attention should be on him but he’ll let you off the hook, at least now you can technically multi task.

If reader is aware that the cookies can see them then Shadow Milk may demand more attention. Tapping on the screen as you try and watch YouTube on your phone. Or you may just turn around and see his face nearly covering the entire TV as he watches you.

Black Sapphire also enjoys this a lot. He chuckles as your face lights up as the TV shows your kingdom. Now able to see your lil cookies finally on a better quality screen. Able to see you giggle as you pick up and drop different cookies at different places.

Leave the TV on longer will you? He likes to see your reactions to certain stories you hear on that one clock app…yknowww, he’s happy enough to tell you various stories to keep you entertained, just keep your eyes on him.

If you’re aware of this he’ll make it more obvious that he wants to be the one to let you in on the latest gossip. How will he do this without the use of a phone? He’ll figure it out, just sit back and relax. He’ll make sure those stories he tells are the most entertaining, just for you

Clotted Cream Cookie finds your reasoning almost amusing, what do you mean you wished to see them on a larger scale? He finds it cute when he sees you genuinely happy when you figure out how to do it and it succeeds. Can’t help but give a small round of applause and a knowing smile in secret.

If you just leave the TV on while you do other things, he likes to silently observe your mini routine and finds it entertaining when or if you ever fall asleep, whether that be playing the game, doing work ect ect.

Oh he wishes he can escape and help you back to your own bed, he’s more than happy to you know. After all you’ve done, helping fellow cookies become stronger and helping alongside ginger brave and his friends. You deserve rest too.

If you’re aware you may hear him gently talk to you through the screen, perhaps a small reminder of where you put your keys. He saw you put them on the coffee table!!

Black Forest loves this, she’s already looks up to you and sees you as a being like if not higher then the witches. To then hear that you wanted to see all of them on a larger scale and put them on a device where they’ll be able to in turn see you better.

She’s so happy, she loves seeing your outfits every day more clearly as opposed to having to guess what else you wore as all she could likely see was maybe the shoulders up. Or waist up.

If you’re aware, she uses the opportunity of the TV being on and running to compliment you for your outfit or skills. She absolutely adores you. Maybe she’ll ask you if she can see you in wedding attire.

Pure Vanilla definitely tries to calm other cookies down if you’re aware of them. Pulling Shadow Milk away so he doesn’t cause a ruckus as you try and eat. Gently advising Black Forest to give some space.

You may essentially be their “God” but you deserve respect and care. He’ll ensure other cookies behave and don’t bother you all too much. He finds it flattering you wish to see them better, he had assumed the phone (or tablet) you’ve been using was enough for you, you could take them anywhere after all.

But you want to see them bigger? He can’t help but blush a bit. How’d they get so lucky with such a kind hearted “God”

((I hope this was okay anon 👉👈))

-#1 Black Sapphire Fan Out ‼️‼️

[baniisharur0tte]

Thin Walls ☆

p2 here

you and Suguru Geto are roommates!!! but long nights lead to wandering eyes... ;)

word count: 4.1k <3

content: SMUT!!!! 18+!!!! Creep!Geto perving on u, mention of: hair pulling, P->V, oral (F!Receiving). mild breath play (M!Self-Inflicted)

authors note: i've been working on a longer fic for geto but i couldn't allow him to continue being neglected on my blog!!!! i love my baby girl cult leader <3333

(inspired by this song)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

you and geto have been roommates for a few months now. you both moved to the other side of the city around the same time, and your mutual friend suggested you to each other when they heard about your respective roommate hunts.

it was nice, you were both tidy quiet people. you cooked for each other, helped each other with chores, you both left the bathroom neat after showers, and you each had a cat that got along well.

but the walls were thin.

a little over a month after you moved in together, the last of your respective unpacking completed, suguru was in the living room quietly watching tv before bed. his long frame sprawled out across the couch, a soft black long sleeve and grey sweatpants hanging off his lean muscular body. you called it an early night after your shower, a loose tee shirt and fuzzy shorts on as you stepped out of the bathroom.

"i'm headed in for the night, i'll see you tomorrow! would you be able to feed the cats dinner?"

"of course, yeah. sleep well!" he replied smiling slightly, shifting in his seat giving you a quick glance up and down.

not long after you shut the door behind you, he quickly put together why you were in such a hurry to get under the covers.

through the thin walls of your apartment, he heard your small hushed whimpers and moans as you pleasured yourself.

his spine stiffened as he sat up, unsure if he was hearing correctly.

she's not....

his cock hardening in his pants at the sound, he searched around the couch for the remote to turn down the volume.

a curiosity he had nurtured was raring it's head, and he was too weak to ignore it.

the first day here he noticed how thin the walls were, you had been in your bedroom on the phone, sitting amongst the clutter, trash bags scrawled with clothes and winter blankets on the front, brown cardboard boxes stacked in all corners of the room.

sorting through some nick nacks, you spoke to your friend about the moving process.

'"...and one of the movers chipped the corner off my dresser. it's brand new! i only got it a few months ago. ugh. but it's fine, everything is in one piece.... geto? yeah he's really nice, we got coffee and breakfast a few times before we signed the lease, he's great.... i mean, he just looks like a guy. you can meet him when you come over after the house is settled, but he's got long black hair and he's tall.... oh my god why would you ask me that???..... i never thought about it.. no!!!... i mean, i guess.... okay fine, yes, he's very hot. is that what you wanted to hear???... no you cannot sleep with my roommate, gross!!!! i have to go, i have to make lunch soon and unpack enough to sleep here tonight.... yeah, i'll talk to you tomorrow. bye!"

with a huff you tossed your phone over your shoulder and onto your bed, muttering to yourself ..is he hot... god, what kind of question is that?..

from the kitchen, suguru was unpacking his cookware and dishes and neatly organizing them in the cupboards. hearing your conversation, he smiled to himself and laughed.

you aren't alone in that.

his friends had been asking him about you, curious about his new roommate. "what's her name?" "what does she look like?" "is she hot?" "does she have hot friends?"

as annoying as it was, he couldn't pretend he wasn't attracted to you. when you first met at the diner to discuss potential living arrangements, the first thing he notices was your smile. bright and warm, you were inviting off the bat.

next was your eyes. the way you looked up at him as he stood over you approaching the table to greet you, they widened as you drank in his height. he found it endearing if not enticing to see your shock at his build.

the curve of your neck, the dip of your collarbones, the way your hair fell around your face.

you were gorgeous.

and it got so much worse as the weeks passed, the happenstance of intimacy you develop as you live with someone only continued to unfurl your beauty to him.

wet hair as you leave the bathroom after a shower, baggy pajamas ghosting around your frame in the morning, the passing interactions as you left the house to go out with your friends, tight shirts and sparkly earrings catching his eye as you put on your shoes and cheerfully say goodbye before leaving.

and the walls were so painfully thin.

considering the rent price, he found it particularly annoying. unsure if you had noticed, he was very careful to keep himself quiet as he touched himself, hiding in the bathroom with the shower running or waiting until you turned on your tv to fall asleep at night. the drone of a comforting show drowning out whatever huffs and soft groans escaped his lips as he pumped his cock, closing himself away in his room.

thoughts of you often crossed his mind as he pleasured himself, curiosity getting the better of him every time.

a mix between guilt and indignation swirled inside him every now and then. it was incredibly inappropriate to indulge in such lewd fantasies given the nature of your relationship, but he's allowed to think whatever he wants. the mind is a safe haven to explore all possibilities, why should he feel bad for having an interest in you?

at least that's what he told himself to wave away the sharp sting of guilt as he slowly tipped off the edge into an unsightly indulgence.

a night like any other would play to the tune of that aching lust in his chest.

on any night under your shared roof, he would find himself relaxing on the couch beside you, watching Your Show together. the gentle swish of your legs as you reposition on the couch, or the wind of you plopping yourself down next to him after getting up for a snack, wafting your perfume around him.

utterly intoxicating, stirring his stomach.

when you would scurry off to bed, he would follow your lead shortly after. tying up his hair in the mirror, an innocuous flush on his face, almost imperceptible to anyone but himself as he stares back into the mirror. as he pulls his hair up, his hands run excessively over his neck and shoulders, pulling his hair a bit too hard as he puts it up. a silent scream tearing inside him, subconsciously circling the thought of you running your hands along his skin. your hands gathering his hair, pulling it hard as he pleases you, painting artwork with his tongue. every blink brings forth a flashing image of your flushed sweaty face under him, scratching his back, snaking your hands into his hair and pulling tight, a tangled mess of limbs and heartbeats.

his low eyes stare back at him, his pulse hot in his neck. splashing cold water on himself, washing his face trying to chase away the tension he feels.

leaning into the counter brushing his teeth, the air soft and minty around him, a sparkling rainbow of bubbles.

padding into his room, he would strip of his clothes to change into loose pajama pants. the act of undressing would dance around his chest, the haunt of your fingers hooking under his shirt to strip him bare and take him hungrily. like a ravenous animal, gouging chunks out of a rich cake and licking the frosting off your fingers.

his cock stiff and begging for attention as he stood naked in the looming darkness of his room, a palpable solitude in the air.

across from him a mirror stood, he turned without thinking to meet his own gaze. his taut, towering frame in the glow of the moonlight spilling over him through the gaps in the curtains, he wondered to himself.

how would you look pressed against me in my mirror?

is there anything inside you begging to feel my skin?

can you hear what i'm thinking? would you like it if you could?

sighing and slipping into his pajama pants, he crawls into bed. already groping himself feverishly, he palmed his cock around through his pants.

rolling your name around in his mind, curious how it would taste saying it in the heat and throws of pleasure.

as if you were a spectre passing through the walls, he was flooded with broken bits and pieces of fantasies of you spurred on by the casual passings of every day life.

watching you stand at the kitchen counter cutting fruit, curious about what a fistful of your hair would feel like in his hand as he bent you over the cold granite, hunching down with you pressing his chest to your back and his cock to your ass as he whispered filthy things in your ear. i want to fucking tear you apart.

the words i'm gonna go take a shower, do you need the bathroom? were more than enough for him at times. conjuring thoughts about you lathering your body in suds, your face tipped up to the water, the gentle curve of your neck exposed, curious about what it would feel like to have the hot water hit his back as he pinned you to the wall, dropping to his knees to eat your pussy, your slick wet skin under his fingers as he dug his nails into the plush of your thighs and the fat of your ass.

once, he even caught sight of you quickly scurrying from the bathroom to your bedroom, clearly having forgotten a towel. he pretended not to notice as to not embarrass you, appearing deeply enthralled in the book he was reading on the couch, a cool air around him as he lounged effortlessly on the arm of the couch. careful not to tip his head up as his eyes followed you to your room, your arm clutching your breasts as you hurried quickly just across the hall to hide in your room to dry off and change clothes.

but for how cool his demeanor remained, the hot buzz of lust ran down the back of his neck. though it was only for a moment, he learned so much about the curve of your waist, the heave of your chest, the valley your spine leaves down your back. such curiosity he has for you, the deep yearn to learn more about you crashed into him hard as laid in his bed stroking himself though his clothes. he hooked his cock over the edge of his pants, spitting into his hand and coating himself in his own slick.

dragging long strokes over his twitching cock, his hand flies up to his face to quiet himself. dragging his palm from his forehead down the side of his face to bite his knuckle, the weight of his own heavy hands spurred him on. to be touched even by himself was enough to warrant a hitched groan tripping in his throat, muffled by his hand.

his long fingers made to be wielded by an artist wrapped tight around himself as he wracked with pleasure, that curiosity lighting a brutal fever under his skin.

your wet pussy dripping down his chin, soft lips on his neck as your tongue drags stripes up and down his skin, biting his ear and moaning his name. how would i sound in your mouth?

his name spilling from your lips as if it were a crying plea to a god he's never known, he would give you everything his body could offer to bring you pleasure. anything you asked for, anything you could need he would do to make you cum. questions and answers, movement and understanding, reacting in tandem with each other.

information, information.

he needed it, he craved it.

anything he could get from you to learn about what would make you cry tears of pleasure for him, he would dedicate himself to it.

his pace quickening, careful to keep his shuddering breaths low and shallow as to not arouse suspicion through the ever-exposing framework of your shared home.

the thought of watching his cock disappear inside you, your pussy swelling around him, accommodating his length so generously sent a chill down his spine, his back clinging to the silky sheets as sweat condenses on his skin.

your body swallowing him so greedily, milking his cock for cum like a feral animal desperate to take all of him. he would give you everything he had until he was drained and spent, pumping you deeply with his cum just as he hoped you would beg him for.

hissing and panting, his legs tensing and shaking as he approached his orgasm, the vile fantasy of him fucking you into his mattress pouring into his mind. the roll of his hips hitting everything you need, your body sucking him in as you clench around him, cumming down the length of his cock leaving a creamy ring of your cum at his base, matting down his dark happy trail.

he choked back a deep guttural groan as he came onto his stomach, holding his breath to ensure his silence as he offered up his pleasure in your name.

his head swimming from the lack of oxygen and the crushing wave of dense ecstasy washing over him, he laid still for a few minutes, his chest heaving as he came down from his high.

but all the stolen glances and hushed stimulation didn't alleviate his tension.

on a night like tonight, when his curiosity couldn't be helped, searching for the tv remote in the couch to get a better ear for the sound of your secluded pleasure, he was quickly worked into a frenzy inside. finding the remote and quickly turning the tv down to near-mute, he slowly approached the hallway hosting your bedrooms.

the door shut tight, something uncommon for you. that should've been his first clue.

your cat liked to wander in and out throughout the night, a shut door like this would warrant incessant yowling and indignant complaints from her until you dragged yourself out of bed to let her in.

leaning against the corner, your door just over his shoulder, the sound grew clearer.

the muffled moans and panting coming from behind the flimsy, feeble door poured into his ears. his cock pressing angrily against the fabric of his pants, he tipped his head back against the wall and shut his eyes. drinking in the utter music you made.

it was better than he even imagined.

he thought about all the ways you could be pleasing yourself. on your back, on your stomach, riding your pillow, a vibrator perhaps, or maybe just your fingers or your palm. maybe you were plunging a thick dildo into your aching pussy, fucking yourself imagining it was his cock pushing a bulge out in your stomach.

how he craved to know what you looked like pleasuring yourself.

the fresh idea of you being completely unaware as he watched you through a crack in your door was exhilarating. it was better than if you were willing to do it in front of him. maybe it was the corrupt and vile nature of perversely spying on his friend as she made herself cum for him over and over again.

or perhaps it was because there was no audience for you to perform for, no need to make sure you looked pretty as you brought yourself up to your high. the rawness and vulnerability of an act under no one's gaze was the most authentic pleasure you could receive.

imagine all i could learn about her if i could only see..

he squeezed his cock though his pants, weighing the risk of touching himself now or holding onto the memory of your voice dripping from the doorframe.

with a small 'aah!' falling from your lips, he made his choice.

there's no way i can wait.

he quickly and quietly unbuckled his belt and shuffled his pants down slightly, his hard cock springing free nearly hitting him in the stomach.

he spit into his hand and began quietly and furiously fucking his fist around his cock, holding his breath and quietly and shallowly releasing it as to absolutely ensure he was silent.

he slowly crept around the corner, the side of his face pressed into the doorframe, mere inches from your door as he pleasured himself with you.

what we're doing in there?

will you show me?

would you leave your door open for me someday?

he was quickly approaching his orgasm, the rush of adrenaline from doing something so disgusting and hearing your siren's voice were guaranteeing he wouldn't last long. his pace quickened and so did his breath, shallow quiet pants escaped him between staggered bouts of holding his breath. his head swimming and fuzzy, he heard you quietly call out his name.

"hmm... suguru~" you mewled quietly to yourself, your moaning and panting becoming faster, obvious you were close yourself.

his eyes widened and his other hand flew up from the doorframe to his mouth, clamping it shut as he growled quietly to himself.

there is no fucking way she just said my name.

overwhelmed by the notion that you were touching yourself to the thought of him, he was about to cum as he heard you quietly call out for him again, breathy cries indicating you were cumming all alone in the heat of your bed.

he came in his hand, trying desperately to catch it all before any spilled onto the ground, his knees slightly buckling and heaving shaky quiet pants into his palm as he experienced your cries for him, an utter exorcism ripping him apart.

he quickly backed away from your door, running to the bathroom to clean up the mess you made of him.

that night, as he laid in bed tossing and turning- ruminating over everything he heard from you, he decided he was going to force your hand. if you wanted him so badly, he was going to make it impossible to deny yourself indulging in him.

for the next few weeks, he essentially stopped wearing shirts altogether. the only time you saw him fully dressed was around the evening, often wearing a loose sweater or a baggy tee shirt- but the mornings were no longer safe for someone with such wandering eyes like yourself. shirtless with no underwear and loose pants hanging low on his pointed hips, his hair cascading over his shoulders, casually walking out of the bathroom in a towel loosely hanging from his hips, stopping in the entry of the living room to make an insignificant comment about how we are running out of hand soap, can you remind me tomorrow at the store? an obvious excuse on his end for you to run your eyes up and down his body, his hair dripping water down his chest and taut stomach, shiny soft skin and rippling muscles in his arms. the veins on the back of his slender hands drawing your eye down to wear he loosely held his towel, a tuft of black just barely peaking over the top, his long cock gently leaving an impression against the plush fabric.

he left very little to your imagination, torturing you for weeks.

watching your wide eyes pour over him that first morning as you stepped out into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes and yawning as you were met with the sight of his toned back as he cooked you both breakfast was much more satisfying than the meal you shared that morning.

his long lean frame towering over the stove, music softly playing from radio in the living room as he shuffled scrambled eggs around in the pan in front of him, his long glossy hair curtaining down his back, his slender waist and loose pants flowing around him.

you were immediately just as flushed and hot in the face now as you were when you touched yourself last night before bed.

"good morning. sleep well last night?" he said coolly, looking over his shoulder at you smiling. his eyes were low and hid a darkness behind them.

you stammer out a feeble "yeah, i did. you?" still reeling from the sight you found in the kitchen.

"i did, yes. although i admit not as well as i would've liked. i should've gone to bed early like you, i had trouble falling asleep for a bit. you want tea? i'm making some in a minute."

heat waves over your face as he acknowledges how early you scurried off to bed. he always noticed the little things about you, making you a bit self-conscious in moments like this.

you sat and ate breakfast together on the couch as he continued to neglect putting on anything even resembling a shirt.

for those few weeks, he spent his time at the house preying on your helpless inability to tear your eyes off him. standing just a little too close sometimes, his cologne would waft around you as you were enthralled in his presence.

and then he'd step away as if it was nothing. he would take note of the small movement you made almost as if to follow him, stopping yourself.

his hand would linger on yours for just a moment too long as you passed him clean cups to put away, doing the dishes together.

and then his touch would leave you as if he didn't notice. he would take note of how your breath would hitch in your throat as his fingers brushed yours.

he began undressing on his way to the bathroom to shower rather than behind the privacy of a closed door. hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt, stretching his long arms carefully up over his head to relish in the feeling of your eyes on him as he walked down the hall to the bathroom. every now and then, he would glance over his shoulder to soak in your reaction. a visible hum around you as you stared like a deer in headlights. once, he tossed a cool smile at you as if he were an aloof cat, unaware of what he was doing. as soon as the door shut, you ran flustered and red to your room to pleasure yourself for the entire duration you heard the shower running.

but unaware he was not, and these calculated efforts were paying off in tenfold for him.

your early bedtime became a routine in the household, with the added side effect of the cats now begging him exclusively for dinner.

shortly after you would hurriedly shut the door behind you, he would abandon his book or his movie and slink around the corner to drink in the noises you made as you touched yourself to the thought of him. unable to be as quiet as you once were, a feverish infection of the mind possessing you forcing you to cry out with wavering control. he would go from presenting the affectation of boredom or as if he was ill-attentive to your habits- to a ravenous creep lurking around your bedroom door at the click of the latch.

as if he were a vampire stalking his prey in a frenzied bloodlust, he would lean his face on the same spot on the doorframe every night learning the way you sounded when you pleased yourself. some nights he would milk his cock in time with you, others he would stand still, silently drinking in every noise you made. he quickly picked up on your cues, understanding what pleasure meant to you. he would relish in fantasies fueled by his depraved habit- bending you over the couch as he worked his length into your eager, drooling pussy. digging his fingers into your thighs pushing them into his face as you shook and clenched around his tongue. resting his hand over your stomach as he rolled his hips, feeling his cock bulge against the wall of your stomach. fucking you slow and deep, watching your eyes intently. endless possibilities, so many ways he could make you cum for him in the secret of night, behind the locked doors of your home. his nasty habit of nightstalking devolved into an anxiously anticipated ritual he would wait for from the moment he woke up every day. like clockwork he could time when you would cum based on how you sounded, how much you said his name, the pitch and lilt in your breathy voice reaching out to him from under the door.

until one night, the door was cracked.

your was voice ringing out to him clearer than ever before, a curious discovery. a newfound feeling of nerves stirred in his stomach. he slowly rounded the corner to find he could see a sliver of your figure writhing in your bed, your chest heaving and the blankets carelessly discarded in a heap on the floor beside the bed.

running your hand through your hair, down your body, over your chest and thighs as the other drew quick circles over your clit. he watched you in awe, utterly entranced.

wide eyes and a cold chill running its blade down his back, he was practically shaking with anticipation. already pumping his cock in his hand, his eyebrows knitted together and his jaw slack as he silently watched you whisper his name to yourself.

your voice growing louder with every pant, you cried out for him again. he was breaking down under the weight of your lust for him, a burden he wished more than anything to relieve you of. consumed with desire to get closer, he was frenzied trying to come up with anything that could get him inside. you called out for him once more, a desperate 'suguru, please~' making his eyes roll back and a small grunt to get stuck in his chest.

his mind whirring, he came up with something particularly perverse.

if she's calling for me, why wouldnt i come running?

he rounded back down the hall into the looming darkness of the living room, hiking his pants back up and painfully shoving his hard cock into them. smoothing his shirt down, his heart pounding, he turned back towards your door.

he slowly pushed it open with the tips of his fingers, unfurling the sight of your flushed face and heaving chest for him to admire- your eyes shut tightly as you rolled your nipple between your fingers. your body rocking against your hand, the steady roll of your hips hypnotizing him. the thick tension and heavy heat in the room was reaching the point of snapping at any moment.

with the creak of your door, his voice poured into the room in a low sultry purr, "you called for me, you need some help?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

(authors note#2- if heaven exists it's in a dark room behind a locked door with suguru geto. when i die, take me to him.)

p2 here <3

[paisleypens]

idk if youve done something like this, but a you posted that with y/n and spencer and theyre having fun but theres an old tweet about how spencer likes y/n!! hope this makes sense <3

winter break stirred up some writing motivation, sorry to everyone who has expected more lol. this is a GENIUS idea anon, tysm <3

yeah, i posted that... | spencer agnew x reader

gender neutral reader, second person, embarrassed spence, real tweets from the boys!!

~~~

You were all in for another shoot on the Smosh Pit set, and today was no ordinary one. The much-anticipated episode of "You Posted That?" featuring Spencer Agnew, Shayne Topp, and you, Y/N, had been scheduled for months. You’d joined Smosh not too long ago after building a successful career as a standalone YouTuber, and this was your first time competing on the popular show. Ian Hecox, as the host, was already hyping up the event with his usual mix of sarcasm and self-deprecating humor.

“Welcome to another episode of ‘You Posted That?’” Ian announced dramatically. “Today, we’ve got three contestants who are about to question their own digital footprint. Please welcome Shayne Topp, Spencer Agnew, and Y/N L/N!”

The small audience on set cheered, and you waved nervously. Spencer, seated next to you, leaned over. “You’re going down,” he teased, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Big words from someone whose tweets are probably all queerbaiting jokes,” you shot back, earning a laugh from Shayne.

“Let’s get started with Round One: ‘You Posted That?’” Ian said with the same exaggerated cadence. “Here’s how it works: we’ll show you one of your posts with a few keywords blanked out. If you can guess the missing words correctly, you get five points. If not, zero points. Got it?”

The first round began with Spencer. The tweet displayed read: “I've had the _____ ____ ___ stuck in my head all day, but only the part where ___ _________ says "___ _ ___ _ ______".” After laughter rang out and a few moments of squirming, it clicked and he guessed “Naked Mole Rat” "Ron Stoppable" and “can I get a booyah” Ian grinned. “Correct!” he exclaimed, as Spencer let out a celebratory “YES!”

Next up was Shayne, whose post read, “______ _____________ > Everything else” Shayne furrowed his brow. “It doesn't fit but... Raisin' Canes?” he guessed, earning howls of laughter when Ian revealed the actual tweet: “Nature Documentaries” Spencer groaned, “Next time just go outside and scream 'I'm smarter than you.”

Then it was your turn. The screen showed, “Me: 'I’m going to bed early tonight.' Also me at 2 AM: Watching _ _____ ______ _ ____ _____” After some thought, you guessed “a woman eating a live squid,” earning you a solid five points. “Weird, but correct!” Ian cheered, as Spencer gave you a playful side-eye. “Real quirky to watch mukbangs,” he muttered. "Look at the year posted!" You laughed back.

The second round of guesses brought even more chaos. Spencer’s next tweet read: “If you _____ ____ _____ while working from home alone, you are a cop” He confidently guessed “wash your hands,” but Ian burst out laughing as he revealed the true answer: “brush your teeth.” Spencer buried his face in his hands as Shayne and you doubled over.

Shayne’s second tweet was equally absurd: “there's no "I" in ____________” He guessed “Unfunny,” but the actual word, “peamupbubber,” had everyone in stitches at the duality.

When it was your turn again, Ian read out: “Why do my plants thrive but not my ______ ______? Asking for a friend.”

"To be clear, this was cute in 2016," and after some embarrassed sighs, you guessed “social life,” earning another five points. Spencer groaned. “Stop being good at this!” he joked.

Then came the final round of tweets. Spencer’s face turned pale as his last post appeared on screen. It read: “If ______ ever gave me a chance, I’d drop everything. Just saying.” The room went quieter, and all eyes turned to him.

“Oh no,” he muttered under his breath.

“Spencer,” Ian said, barely containing his grin. “Care to fill in the blanks?”

Shayne burst out laughing "Dude, don't die on this show of all of them", and you stared at Spencer, your jaw dropping. “Spencer, what is it?” you demanded, though you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up.

“It was a long time ago! Before you joined Smosh! I didn’t think it would ever come up... its Y/N.” Spencer stammered, his face turning bright red.

“Wait, so you had a little crush on me, huh?” you teased, unable to resist.

“Little is an understatement,” Shayne chimed in, wiping away tears of laughter.

“Well,” Ian said, looking at Spencer with a playful smile, “5 points!”

The room erupted into cheers as Spencer laughed it off, but the embarrassment was clear as day. You kept looking at him, trying to give him the hint, but anytime he saw your bright smile, he turned crimson.

The shoot wrapped up fairly quickly after that, with your other posts being just as recognizable to you. Being the rightful winner you walked out happily, nearly skipping back to your desk next to the games pod. You saw Spencer awkwardly approach your desks before you had a chance to sit down.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about that. I had no idea that tweet even existed anymore... it was just- I don't know. I just hope I didn't make you uncomfortable," He apologized.

You quickly rebutted, "No no not at all, Spence. It was really sweet actually. I have never told you this but I felt the same way when I first joined."

"Wait really?" Spencer looked up at you with surprise and unbelievable relief.

"Might still feel that way now. If you do too?"

"Yes! I mean, yes, I do. I never got over it."

"Your crush on me?"

"Yeah, I posted that for a reason."

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

can i request a jaehyun drabble with jaehyun doing acts of service😭 like peeling shrimp for mc🥹🥹 thank you!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Being with Jaehyun made you less aware of the many little duties and chores that had been lifted off your shoulders. It had started a few years ago, on one of your dates a few months in, you had both taken a love language quiz. You had gotten acts of service, Jaehyun had gotten physical touch.

It had been a couple years since you took the test, but never had a chance to look back and reflect until one of your friends mentioned how much Jaehyun did for you. Did he really? Incorporating physical touches for Jaehyun just comes so naturally that you might have forgotten the results of the test all those years ago.

"Of course he does! I joined you two for dinner a few weeks ago and he peeled your shrimp for you!" One of your friends points out.

"And he makes you your coffee just the way you like it every single morning and takes your car to get the oil changed," another friend adds.

"You don't even take out your own trash," your first friend adds again.

You cross your arms, "you guys make it sound like it's a bad thing that he does things for me."

"But what do you do for him?"

That question remains in your head even as you and Jaehyun watch TV later on in the night. He's placed a bowl of ice cream in front of you, studying you as you stare blankly at the screen, lost in thought.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Jaehyun asks softly, allowing you to subconsciously intertwine your fingers together.

You hum, mulling over your words before speaking. "My friends told me that you do too much for me. Like things I should do myself, and I guess I've never noticed. You don't have to do so much for me. Sorry, I never noticed."

Your thumb has been rubbing nervous circles on the back of Jaehyun's hand which brings a smile to his face, "I do those things because I want to. I like doing things for you."

"But why? I can do things for myself, you know?"

"Of course you can, baby. Your love language is acts of service so it makes me feel happy that you feel loved when I do things for you. I like to make your life easier in any way that I can. It's just like you make me feel loved with physical touch."

Your eyes widen as you seem to suddenly realize your hand in Jaehyun's and how you've cuddled up to his side, "you remember the love language test I made you take?"

"I remember everything about you."

You feel your heart melt as you surge forward and pepper half his face with kisses. He laughs heartily, until you press a final kiss to the apple of his cheek, "that was really, really cute of you. I love you for remembering, but... if I remember correctly, didn't you forget our anniversary this year?"

"Oh my god!" he groans, "you woke me up and I was startled so I asked what day it was! That's not me forgetting! That was me being confused after you woke me up against my will!"

"Whatever! Tell me you love me back!"

"You know I love you back, baby. I love you, even though you know... right?"

You take a bite from your slightly melted ice cream, "of course I know, you spoil me."

[seokgyuu]

There is nothing worse than wanting what isn't yours. Sunghoon is your roommates boyfriend. He is also the one thing occupying your mind ever since you first laid eyes on him. And never would you have guessed that the feeling is mutual.

Pairing: Sunghoon x Fem!Reader (minor Jake x Fem!Reader)

Contents: Cheating!! I don't condone cheating in real life, but decided to have this be the main theme of this story, work of fiction!! be warned!, jake plays a big part, calls reader pretty girl, roommate is named yeri but pls don't picture rv yeri thats my baby ok? SMUT! MDNI

Smut Warnings: making out, dirty talk, usage of the words "sweetheart, "baby", "princess", "good girl", fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it friends), creampie

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i know i said my first ever enha fic would be the heejayhoon fic but... here we are now. sunghoon has been on my mind too much and he needed to be let out, ok!! pls don't cheat on your partner ok, sunghoon is not doing things correctly here but oh well, what can we do. thanks for reading <3

It’s not fair, you think. How she gets to sit on his lap, how she gets to run her fingers through his hair. How right now his hands are on her hips and how he holds her so close to his body, his eyes following her every word. You wish you could tell him. How she has been seeing this other guy behind his back. Nothing physical, you think, but still. You wish you could go up and tell him she’s not being entirely faithful. But you can’t. It’s not fair. 

She says something and he laughs and you finally turn away to grab the drink Jungwon has poured you ages ago. He is too busy talking to a girl you don’t know to notice you haven’t even taken the cup. You bring it to your lips, letting all of its contents run down your throat in one go. Maybe getting drunk is the only way you’ll survive this stupid ass party you didn’t even want to host in the first place. 

“Slow down, pretty girl,” you suddenly hear a voice next to you and you almost choke. It’s Jake Sim, his best friend. 

“What?” You put the cup back down and look at him with one brow raised. Jake chuckles, pushing a hand through his soft looking black hair.

“There is enough alcohol for everyone, no need to drown it all in one go.”

“Maybe I want to.” You challenge him with your eyes and he takes the hint, smirking as he grabs the bottle of vodka that's standing on the counter. 

“I got you, pretty girl.”

Talking to Jake is fun. He is fun. He is also handsy. After five minutes of talking, he has his hand on your thigh, looking at you attentively as you tell him some story about you in middle school. You’re feeling hot all over, but it’s not because of Jake or his hand or the way he looks at you. It’s because of how he is looking over.

Park Sunghoon. Still with your horrible roommate on his lap, with his hands still on her waist, with her mouth so close to his ear you’re sure she’s saying the dirtiest things to him right now. But he is looking at you. 

“How do you know Yeri?” Jake asks then, bringing you back. 

“She’s my roommate,” you explain and take a sip from the drink Jake mixed for you earlier. His eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh! You are her roommate!” He grins, “I knew you looked familiar.”

“I did?” You wouldn’t have bet on Jake knowing who you are as much as you wouldn’t have bet on Sunghoon visibly being bothered by you talking to his best friend. 

“Yeah. Sunghoon mentioned you before. Showed me your insta.” You can’t hide the surprise on your face.

“He did?” Jake chuckles again, leaning forward, his mouth almost as close to your ear as Yeri’s to Sunghoon’s. 

“He mentioned you’re not that talkative. He also mentioned you like to look at him. And you know what I think? He enjoys it when you do.” 

You hate your treacherous heart for beginning to beat quicker. Why would Jake say that? Wasn’t he hitting on you? Mentioning what Sunghoon liked or didn’t like - wasn’t this… counterproductive? 

“Why- why would you tell me this?” You finally ask back, looking at Jake with wide eyes. 

“Because,” he begins to explain, his hand wandering further up your thigh, making you gasp, “because I know that he likes looking at you, too. And I never liked Yeri. You seem much nicer than her.”

His breath is still hitting your neck. His touch is soft and while it should probably feel more sensual, it doesn’t. You realize his plan, realize that he is doing this because he knows Sunghoon is watching and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“If you let me kiss you now, he will for sure come find you later.”

In retrospect - maybe it was a bit naive of you to just let him kiss you. Or well, for you to kiss him as a response. He could have played with you, could have used the knowledge that you wanted Sunghoon to his benefit. Something about him, though, made you feel like you could trust him.

Jake is a good kisser. He knows where to put his hands and how to suck on your tongue in a way that doesn't feel like too much. He knows how to turn his head and how to make you crave more, knows exactly how to make it look believable - so believable, Sunghoon can’t concentrate on Yeri on his lap anymore, on how she kisses his neck and whispers things into his ear he’d normally eat up, things he would normally be excited to hear. 

It’s not fair, he thinks. He’s not being fair. This has been going on for way too long. At this point he should just break up with Yeri as he had planned months ago. But he’s just a weak man and Yeri knows him too well. She’s not a good girlfriend and he’s not a good boyfriend, but never would he ever cheat on her. Or so he would like to think. Because right now? Looking at you on the other side of the room, your hands buried in Jake’s hair and his hand on your thigh, so far up it’s almost underneath your god forsaken skirt - he wants nothing more than to drag you into your bedroom and show you he’s better than Jake. 

The thought scares him enough to stop Yeri in her motion and excuse himself to go to the bathroom. 

“Wanna meet me in my room in five?” Yeri giggles in his ear when she’s off his lap and Sunghoon tightens his jaw. 

“I think you should entertain your guests a little more before you leave to your bedroom.”

Yeri pouts up at him when he gets up.

“But Hoonie…,” he knows her antics, he knows them well enough, probably better than anyone. What normally would have worked right away, doesn’t this time. He shakes his head and just walks off, making a pit-stop in the kitchen to get some more alcohol in his system to survive the night. 

-

Sunghoon knew it was bad, he was bad, when he walked into you in nothing but a short towel wrapped around your body two months ago. It had been totally out of his control - the way his body reacted to see you in your almost naked form, water dripping from your hair onto your shoulder, over your collarbone and down your chest. You suddenly became so much more than before. He had found you cute before. Cute and funny and nice. Never had he seen you as anything but his girlfriend’s roommate. You and Yeri weren’t even really friends, more like in need of each other. Yeri’s old roommate had moved in with her girlfriend and so the room became vacant. You were the first one to apply and stayed. This had been six months ago.

And now? Now Sunghoon feels more drawn to you than he had ever felt to Yeri and it drives him crazy. That is why he is drowning two shots of tequila in the kitchen with Jay and Jungwon and that is why he practically hides behind the door frame to watch you and Jake make out. He knows it’s not fair to be jealous. He also knows he probably shouldn’t watch the way Jake is kissing you, the way you are kissing Jake, because all it does is make his body burn. 

He finds himself wondering what you taste like. If you like the way Jake tastes. He’s pathetic. Pathetic and a horrible boyfriend. Sighing, he finally moves to the bathroom, glad to see there is only a small line he has to wait in. Crossing his arms, he leans against the wall, trying to forget the visual of you and Jake but failing miserably. Maybe he should have told Yeri to meet him in her bedroom after all. He could have taken his pathetic jealousy out on her. Just fuck her until he forgot. Imagine it was you instead. 

“Jesus, look at those two,” a voice rips Sunghoon out of his thoughts and he turns his head - immediately regretting his decision. 

It’s Jake and you and he has you pushed against the wall right next to the kitchen, kissing you hard and you kiss him back, hands on his nape and Sunghoon feels like the universe is out to get him tonight. Why the fuck would you follow him outside? Why couldn’t you have stayed in the living room, why-

He stands up straight again. 

You followed him outside. You are making sure he sees you. 

Sunghoon doesn’t have a coherent thought left in his brain. His legs carry him to you and Jake, squeezing through people he doesn’t know and then he is right there, his hand landing on Jake’s shoulder, squeezing hard.

“Heeseung is looking for you.” He says with a blank face and Jake parts from you, needing a few seconds to realize what’s going on. The moment he recognizes Sunghoon, he has to try really hard to suppress a smug smile.

“And that can’t wait? Kinda busy here, mate,” Jake raises his brows. Sunghoon’s jaw tightens once more.

“No. Said it was urgent. Better look for him.”

The apartment isn’t that big. There is a kitchen that’s separate from the living room that does house a good number of people. Jake has just seen Heeseung there. Talking to some red-head and most definitely not looking for him. Grinning after all, Jake nods and turns his head to wink at you quickly before finally taking off. 

“So,” Sunghoon starts, eyes traveling from the back of Jake’s head to you, “Jake, huh?” 

There is no chance in hell you can respond to him. In all honesty, you hadn’t really believed Jake’s plan would work out. Sunghoon getting jealous and stopping you from making out? When Yeri is right there? It seemed absurd. Apparently, though, it wasn’t. 

The surprise on your face is clear as day and Sunghoon scoffs, shaking his head.

“Is this how you want to get my attention, sweetheart? By making out with my best friend?”

Sweetheart. 

“I- I didn’t-,” it’s no use. Both of you know exactly why you had kissed Jake, why you had followed him into the hallway. 

“You didn’t, hm? Didn’t mean to kiss Jake? Didn’t kiss him just to make me jealous? Or what?” 

He’s so close to you now. Too close, if you think about it. What if someone sees you? Sees your roommate's boyfriend this close to you at her own party? 

“Sunghoon, I really don’t-,” you try again, but this time Sunghoon’s hands grab your waist as he pushes himself closer to you, your breath hatching in your throat.

“Don’t lie to me, princess. I can see it in your eyes. Fuck, I can see it in your eyes everytime I’m around. You want me, just admit it.”

Your skin is burning where he is touching you. His eyes are staring into yours and you wish with all of your being he wasn’t who he was. 

“I can’t. I- I don’t want you, Sunghoon, you’re not mine to want.”

Your words reach his ears but they don’t make sense even though they should. Looking around, Sunghoon grabs your wrist and drags you to your bedroom, holding out his hand.

“Keys, I know you locked it.”

You stare up at him, lips trembling, knowing better than to give in. 

“Sunghoon-,”

“Give me the keys, Y/N.”

The way he says your name has your knees growing weak. Swallowing, you let your hand slip into the pocket of your sweater, handing the waiting man what he had asked for. 

Without a word Sunghoon unlocks and opens the door, pulling you inside behind him, hoping to god no one paid you any mind. Once the door behind you shuts, you feel your back hit it, feel Sunghoon’s breath on your face, his hands back on your hips, the look in his eyes wild and angry and so full of want it almost causes you to whimper. 

“Do you want me to be yours to want?” He asks with a raspy voice and his fingers dig into your flesh. 

“Does it matter?” You reply quietly. 

“If it didn’t I wouldn’t ask you, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that.” You immediately say, your thighs pressing together traitorously. Sunghoon catches your movement and he lets out a breath.

“Why? You like it?” 

He is so close to you. So fucking close. You could count every single mole and freckle on his face if only you had the strength to look at him for longer than two seconds.

“Sunghoon, please. Y-You’re Yeri’s boyfriend.”

“That doesn’t stop you from staring at me whenever I’m here, does it?” It’s wrong. He knows it and so do you, but it just feels too good. His hand moves from your waist down, sliding in between your thighs to part them. You gasp, eyes widening when you feel his fingers trailing up your thigh.

“I- I am not- I would never, Sunghoon!” 

It’s a light touch, but it’s right there on that one sensitive spot on your inner thigh. Sunghoon bathes in the way you look, the way your breath hitches when he touches you.

“Yeah? What was that, baby?”

“‘Am not staring at you!” You try to shoot daggers at him through your eyes, but all that reaches him are silent pleas to touch you more. 

“Is that right?” Sunghoon leans forward, his free hand now cupping your cheek, thumb softly caressing your face.

“Not staring at me, hm? Not wishing it was you on my lap instead of Yeri, no?”

“No! Of course not, I-,” you gasp again when he moves his hand further up.

“Stop lying to me, baby. Please, I need you to be honest, need you to tell me how much you want me.”

His voice is deep and his begging almost brings you to your knees. While the rational part of you tells you to push him away, the irrational part tells you to stay right where you are.

“I- what about Yeri, Sunghoon?” Your hands find place on his chest and he bites down on his lip, softly shaking his head.

“I’ll break up with her. I promise, princess. I just need you to tell me exactly what’s on your mind, please?”

I’ll break up with her, the words echo in your head over and over. You should think about this more, you know you should. And yet… 

“You- You are, Hoon, you are always on my mind.”

“Fuck, princess, tell me more. What am I doing in your mind?” His nose touches yours and the hand that was on your cheek moves down to your neck, a shiver running down your spine.

“Doing everything you do to her… to me.”

“Keep going.” His instructions are clear, but with the way his hand has now reached your throbbing core, with how his fingers glide over your soaked panties, feeling just how fucking wet you are for him, you don’t even know how to say your own name. 

“You kiss me, not her. You… touch me, not her.” The words stumble out of your mouth and Sunghoon breathes them in, his cock hard against his jeans as he lets his fingers push your panties to the side, feeling your warm and soft folds right then against his skin. He groans, head falling onto your shoulder.

“Shit, you’re so wet, baby, fuck.”

You whimper when he finds your clit with his thumb and you would have landed on the floor, if his arm hadn’t wrapped around you just then.

“Sunghoon…,” you breathe out, but he just shakes his head, kissing the side of your neck.

“Am I touching you like this in your mind, baby? Am I making you this wet?”

As if to accompany his words, he pushes one finger into you and you cry out, hands fisting the material of his shirt. 

“G-god, yes, just- just like this, Hoon.”

He’s dizzy, you are making him dizzy. Your smell and the way you feel around his finger, your voice dripping in pure lust, it’s about to drive him fucking insane.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles before finally kissing you, his lips devouring you like starved man, a moan escaping and landing in your mouth. Every bit of composure that might have been there a second ago is now gone. Your arms wrap around his neck as he continues pushing his finger in and out of you, your small whimpers getting caught by his busy lips. 

Sunghoon thinks you’re like a drug. Now that he’s got a taste, he can’t stop, he can’t get enough. He licks into your mouth to taste more of you, pushes another finger into your sopping pussy to prep you for his cock that is aching behind his pants. There isn’t much time, he knows someone will notice if he’s gone too long. 

“Been dreaming of this, Hoon, need you so, so bad.”

Your whispered words are like a prayer to Sunghoon. He moans against your lips and wraps both of his arms around you now, your cunt feeling so empty without him all of a sudden. You cry out when he puts you down on your bed and kisses you again, his hands busy getting your panties off your body, leaving your pussy bare for him to dive back into with his fingers. 

He kisses you again, his tongue circling around yours, his lips hot and red and perfect against your own. Nimble fingers slip underneath his shirt, caressing his soft skin as your hips move against him, his fingers even deeper inside of you at this angle. You whine into his mouth and Sunghoon bites down on your bottom lip.

“Gotta have you, baby, gotta fuck you, yeah?”

“Yes, please.” 

He rids himself of his jeans and boxers, pushing them down enough for his cock to spring free, his eyes taking in your body, your face, the way you look wanting him. How many nights had he wished it was you underneath him? Cursing under his breath, he pushes you further up the bed, your head landing on the pillow behind you, gaze wide as you watch him lean forward, his soft brown hair falling into his face. He doesn’t waste any time, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with you, easily slipping into your wet heat. 

“Kiss me.” You whisper and Sunghoon’s eyes fly open, sinking into your further as he leans forward, his lips catching yours in a sensual kiss. Your legs almost automatically wrap around his waist, helping him to completely sink into you. Moans are exchanged between the two of you and your fingers grab Sunghoon’s hair, pulling his head back so you can kiss his neck. He hisses, hips beginning to thrust into you, your tongue lapping at his skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect around me, sweetheart. Never had a pussy better than this.”

He grabs your hand and pins it over your head, eyes wild as he stares down at you, his hips beginning to move mercilessly, cock hitting you right where you need him to. It takes everything in you not to scream for him, your eyes rolling back and your back arching, wanting more of him, wanting all of him. 

“Hoon, am already close,” you admit with your face hot and Sunghoon moans once again, letting his head fall down, back between your shoulder and neck, kissing your skin.

“Yes, baby, want you to cum on my cock.”

It’s true. He doesn’t think he has ever wanted something as much as this. His words are like a spell, your pussy clenching over and over again as your orgasm erupts you, making you cry out in pleasure, your hands flying to the his back, hips moving rapidly against him, basically fucking yourself on his cock through your orgasm and Sunghoon feels like he is about to pass out. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me, fuck.”

He kisses you again, lust and want mixed with desperation as he continues to chase his high, twitching inside of you, your walls tight and warm around his hard cock. If he could, he would fuck you for another six hours, but he knows tonight is not the night for that. Fuck, he’s gonna need to get you a new apartment, he needs to get you as far away from Yeri as he possibly can. 

“Want you to cum in me, Sunghoon, please, make me yours, fill me up, please.”

Black and white dots appear in front of his eyes when you whisper these words in his ear and he can’t do anything but have your wish be his command. He curses your name once, twice - then he cums, thick stripes of white filling your awaiting pussy, the feeling of being filled by him getting you over the edge a second time. You can’t help the loud moan this time, can’t help clawing your fingers into his skin underneath his shirt. He rides out his orgasm and your legs fall off his waist, overstimulation hitting you and making you whine, Hoon kissing your neck and your cheek and finally your lips as he pulls out, quick to part from you again to look at how pretty your pussy looks filled with his release. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I could look at this forever,” he mumbles, sinking down to push two fingers inside you, stuffing his cum back in. You gasp in surprise.

“Park Sunghoon!” 

He laughs, looking up at you with his bangs hanging in his face.

“Need to make sure it stays where it belongs, princess.”

Sunghoon breaks up with Yeri the next day. He takes you apartment hunting an hour later. Safe to say Jake’s plan worked out. And he won’t ever let you hear the end of it. 

[windvexer]

So you're worried about getting into spirit work because you might say the wrong thing and offend the spirits

[[YMMV; this is a UPG post, etc. Other spirit workers are welcome to include their own experiences, suggestions, or cautions :)]]

My take is straightforward. Each step is expanded below.

Do the research you can to understand the kind of spirits you're interacting with. If myth, lore, or folktale gives you rules/guidelines for interaction with that kind of spirit, follow them.

Whether or not you can do that (unknown kind of spirit; limited lore), always behave with your highest level of respect and manners.

If a spirit tells you its preferences or boundaries that contradict with their lore or your manners, prioritize the spirit's preferences.

If you make a mistake that causes offense, apologize and ask for another chance.

If a spirit is going to be an unforgiving vengeful jackass just because you make a mistake, maybe that guy just sucks and you shouldn't work with him.

Do the research

THE RESEARCH IS NOT TO FIGURE OUT IF THE SPIRIT IS 'GOOD' OR 'EVIL'.

The research is to understand if there are any expected acts of courtesy and hospitality when dealing with this category of spirit.

Spirits are not the stupidest guy you've ever met. They are likely to understand if you have taken the time to research appropriate means of hospitality.

It's like googling horse behavior before you go hang out on a farm for the summer. You read a story about how horses can kick. So they're evil?? Evil dangerous??? But also, they can be good friends and people even say they can be helpers... Then which is it? Are horses right-handed path or left-handed path?

The point is to gain a roadmap, if one is available, to understand appropriate behaviors during interaction. Like, don't stand behind the horse!

If you know the classification of spirit you're working with, trying to understand their cultural expectations is a sign of respect and can help you. Every once and a while there might be a really important rule that's outlined in lore, and if that exists, you'd be better off knowing it ahead of time.

Like, idk. Don't agree to a fiddle contest on a crossroads, you know? This is lore you should already have in your back pocket before you go to meet the Devil in Appalachia.

Always behave with highest respect and manners

This doesn't mean groveling, boot-licking, or worship.

Respect spirits as individuals. Do not ignore what they show you about themselves because you only think of them as cookie-cutter lore-clones.

Use manners.

As much as you can, try to think of your spirit encounters as being actual present-moment encounters with real beings.

If you see that your behavior seems to make a spirit withdraw or be uncomfortable, try pausing that behavior. If you see a spirit responds well to certain behavior, try using that more.

If you see that a spirit is getting frustrated with a behavior, do not keep doing it over and over again just because you heard that kind of spirit is supposed to like it.

Importantly, if you do end up accidentally upsetting a spirit you want to be able to say, "I'm sorry that I offended you, my action was meant to be one of respect."

You never want to be stuck saying, "wow, sorry that offended you. I guess I don't know what I was thinking, I just assumed you'd be more chill..."

Spirits are not the stupidest guy you've ever met. They understand if you are making an effort, or not. And making an effort can go a really long way.

In addition, I personally recommend that during spirit contact assume you saw and heard correctly, but don't immediately integrate what you perceived as being proven fact.

If a spirit tells you it's a dragon and you don't believe it, don't keep asking it what it is over and over. Like imagine that from their perspective. "What are you?" "A dragon." "...Can you tell me what you are?" "I'm a dragon." [takes three deep breaths, intense meditative focus] "Spirit, please reveal to me your nature; what might be called type, or species." "D R A G O N" "Can you describe your appearance to me? That would help me understan-- oh, I no longer sense a presence. I guess this was all in my head. I was right to have my doubts."

If you hear silly or nonsense names, are told unbelievable spirit types, or anything, assume you heard correctly. This does not mean you should assume the spirit is being honest or forthcoming, or that your psychism is flawless. Rather, roll with the punches - accept what you experience in the moment, and later on spend effort in discernment, testing ideas before you accept them as truth, fact, or beliefs.

Just don't demand the other person repeat themselves and then tell them to their faces you don't believe them.

If you did hear incorrectly, spirits can take their own steps towards correcting your understanding later on.

Assume spirits are individuals

Imagine making friends with a goth (!!), but you've never interacted with that kind of person before. So you go to WikiHow and read their helpful article, How To Be Friends With A Goth. It says that goths really enjoy listening to The Cure and having a collection of safety pins.

Because you want this relationship to work out, you invite your new goth friend over and put on The Cure.

"Do you mind if we listen to some Manson?" Anastazia asks you. "I'm not really into the older stuff."

You can't believe your hearing has failed you. You zoned out to the point where you actually thought a goth said they did not want to listen to The Cure. How embarrassing. However, you know what Anastazia really wants. Anastazia wants to listen to The Cure.

WikiHow said so.

Apologize and work it out

People worry about 'offending the spirits' as if that's the worst possible thing you could ever do. It is not.

I offend spirits sometimes. This is how it usually goes:

Me: [offensive action] Spirit: "Woah, that sucks. Don't do that, I didn't like it." Me: "Oh dang I'm sorry, I didn't realize it would go down like that. I'll remember how you feel and try to do better." Spirit: "Okay, thanks for not being a jerk about it. I gotta go now, let's talk later."

What's the worst case scenario, that the relationship will be irreparable? IRREPARABLE, because you accidentally said one wrong thing?

If your spirits are making you walk on eggshells, making you terrified to speak up or communicate because saying the wrong thing will make them lash out, give you the silent treatment, or put you in danger...

What would you tell your friend to do, if they were in that kind of relationship? I think you might offer them help to get out and find a new relationship where they are valued and respected.

Putting on my serious hat: If you do believe that spirits are inherently vengeful, heartless, or prone to abusive behaviors like harming you because you made a mistake, I encourage you to consider if spirit work is really a healthy choice for you at this time.

Maybe that guy really isn't just for you, you know?

A lot of people are really worried about saying something wrong. Like spirit work is that Squid Game of glass floors, and if you step on the wrong tile it'll shatter and spirits will drag you straight to hell.

Look - I know what the wrong things to say are. Here's a list to help you avoid stumbling into these pitfalls (not comprehensive):

"Fuck you, I'm God."

"You are now my slave. I bind you, worm. That's what you are to me. A worm."

"Hi, I choose you to be the one who gives me power and teaches me magic. I brought you a pretty rock to live in :) Get inside of it :)"

"Nice to meet you, I'm the new head bitch in charge of this forest. Go tell everyone else who the new boss is."

However if you choose to say the following sorts of things I think you're really playing it safe:

Nice to meet you, I'm really excited to be reaching out and I hope we can be friends.

I'm hoping to find a helper or a familiar who wants to be a part of my practice. Do you think that could be you?

I'm surprised that you take the appearance I associate with a European being, but we're in Idaho. Would it be correct to call you a Kelpie?

Thanks for joining me when I called out, but as it turns out your energy is way too intense for me. Is it possible for you to hold back your radiance? Otherwise I think we need to part ways.

I really can't Hear you at all, so would it be okay if I just gave you a nickname?

Nonetheless, if a guy does get really offended and demands that you self-flagellate to soothe his temper, then maybe he kind of just sucks and you shouldn't spend any more time with him.

You can be the nicest and most respectful person of all time, and some spirits will just never be happy.

If you think certain spirits are likely to be easily offended, don't reach out to them.

If you think all spirits are likely to be easily offended, that is another problem altogether.

If you don't know where to start, the following kinds of guys are often quite patient and easy to get along with:

Domesticated trees

Culinary or medicinal plant species (poisonous plants excluded)

Streams, lakes (rivers... maybe not so much, IME)

Clouds, rainbows, light rain

Breezes, joyful gusting winds

Fish

Air, atmosphere

Salt

Learn sorcerous skills to back you up during spirit work, behave with common sense and respect, and take your time getting to know new spirits. And I think you'll be okay.

[toriaaniin]

Well hello there (redacted*)! How nice of you to drop by. I'd offer you a cup of tea, but...

Me and my Lukola friends are too blind to find anything in the kitchen!

And while I'm paying attention to you (redacted)... did you not read the article that Nicola posted yesterday? Did you not take the hint that she was admonishing trolls and online bully behaviour? You know; behaviour that looks suspiciously like your message (above) to me? Perhaps you have eyesight issues too. Yes. Yes, I think you do.

As for me...

I'm simply following the clues that a possibly pregnant women has left for me and my friends. In fact her clues are more easily readable than brail.

Now; about this so called "launch" you speak of? Give me a break. Even through the haze of my cataracts I was able to see that her post for Jake the other day was lame. She didn't even tag him.

Let's compare her untagged "love" post to Jake with the HBD wishes she's posted on her IG stories for her other friends:

She shares a photo of Jake next to the trash can; a photo that doesn't even include her IN it. Surly Nicola has better photos of "the love of her life" on her phone?! Let's compare with how she wishes her very good friend Jack Rooke a happy birthday. So sweet! And tagged.

When Nicola wished Luke Fetherston a happy birthday she not only shared a photo with both of them in it, she also gave him THREE red hearts! Now that's hard launch material right there!! Oh. And he was tagged.

Nicola even gave more birthday love to Valentina, Camilla's dog, than she did to Jake. Sadly Valentina wasn't tagged either... although Camilla was 🥰 BUT, Nicola called Valentina a princess!

Don't worry. Jake's friend Hannah gave him this honourific, so he wasn't left out of the princess fairytale. It must be love!

But wait... there's competition for Jake's love!!

Now these are romantic birthday wishes to Jake, posted by Doug and Dylan the other day.

Clearly the man is loved by his friends. Deservedly so, I'm sure.

But I really, really, really question whether THIS was a hard launch?

Seems to me it was simply a birthday wish for her friend (not lover) Jake. Unfortunately she posted at 6:30am when she was half awake and neglected to tag him. Unlike her spelling-mistake story showing the billboard in Los Angeles, she didn't delete and repost Jake's birthday wish with the missing tag. I guess Luke and Bridgerton's ensemble cast nomination warranted a correctly spelled "Surprise". Deleted; replaced.

Now I ask you; am I really blind? I saw well enough to compile the photos above and make perfect sense of them. I don't see a love-launch of Jake. I see a man living his life, preparing for an amazing lead theatre role. What an opportunity! I also see a man that didn't spend time with Nicola over Christmas, New Years, her birthday, his birthday (according to her, she was in LA. Sure Jan), and today: Valentine's Day. I also see a man who is loved by his friends. Nicola is his friend.

Unless I'm missing something?

So (redacted*)... rather than come over here and rag on the truth I and my Lukola friends see - and that I shared above - why don't you and your little weiner-dog leader fuck the hell off. We know.

P.S. I'm tempted to create some merch for us blind Lukolas! Sarcastic t-shirts and sweatshirt merch is fun 💙 Want one?!

P.S.S. I've redacted the name of this poster because 10 hours after she sent this message to me, she recalled it... just before I was about to post this response. I could have scrapped my post, but she challenged me to SEE the truth. I wanted to oblige. I've redacted her name on the chance that she realized she didn't message me anonymously and so she chickened out and pulled her ask. Or perhaps she thought about Nicola's troll/bully post from yesterday and thought better of her action. Let's give her grace and assume that she came to her senses and not that she's too chicken shit to have her name out there along with her bully behaviour.

Aaniin friends!