#because you have your own tag on this blog and you always will

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Thirty One[FINALE]

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut(18+), star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse, talks of death, depressive thoughts, talks about not being able to conceive, and endometriosis.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: After over a year of writing this story, we finally are at the end. I have so many things to say yet I think I will bask in the moment for a little bit before I bore you with my emotions. So please take this for now: Thank you all so fucking much for your endless love and support for this silly little fic. It started off as a simple request(i hope you're still around 🎧 ). But it brought me so many friendships. I owe you all so much. Forever grateful for every single one of you.

My inbox will forever be open if you want to talk about the finale. 🖤

Huge thank you to my loves @blueskylinesx and @artificialbreezy for your endless support and helping me with the vows. I love you both immensely.

Angel and Mochi forever. 🪽🍡

Tags[CLOSED]: @blueskylinesx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @shayzillaaaa @badomensls @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @happi-goth @dsireland86 @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-mee @respectfulrebel @malerieee @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @sideeyenoah @bellaboo967 @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave @lobolocaamo @amelia-acero @karenfrancoespinosa-blog @collidewiththesavannah @xserenax-13 @supersquirrel1996 @themodern-daywednesday @oxythoughtin7715

THIS IS FICTION. NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

READER

ONE MONTH LATER.

“Noah,” I choked out while gazing up at the familiar home with tears filling my eyes. 

He stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist and his chin resting on top of my head. We both swayed with the sudden rush of wind which caused Noah to hold me tighter, bringing the warmth from his body to my own. 

“Are you mad?” He asked. 

I couldn’t remove my eyes from the SOLD sign on the front yard of the familiar house and the key Chase was dangling in front of my face with a shit eating grin. A month ago on that night underneath the fairy lights, Noah proposed with the ring hanging on Kuma’s new collar. When I found the ring and looked over at Noah that night, he said two simple words. 

“Marry me.” 

I accepted before he finished the words, nearly tackling him to the ground. We connected that night underneath the fairy lights, his cock slowly dragging in and out of me while I rocked my hips up into him. Afterwards, we lay together tangled underneath the stars with the blanket barely covering us as we talked about our wedding plans. Our conversation during our many 2pm Facetime calls was something we both remembered fondly. 

With a hesitant sigh, I nodded. "Japan is just such an important place to me, for several reasons. I have this little fantasy that I’d run off and get married there. It's so peaceful and quiet with my closest friends and family. One and done romance type shit."

Noah stiffened while scratching his chin.

"What? I freak you out, girlfriend?" | joked with a teasing smirk.

He chuckled nervously. "No. I- uh, who's the groom?"

"I don't know, never got that far. It's always been the small child in me's dream."

It took some time with many nights of wondering if I was worthy enough but I found my groom. 

So when we broke the news to everyone two days later, wanting to bask in it privately beforehand, we told everyone that we’d be getting married in Japan. But with the future shows both Bad Omens and Hollow Souls had planned, we knew we would either have to push off the wedding for a couple years or get married before the shows. 

Now, a month later, all of us were in Japan for our wedding that was happening in a few days. It wasn’t anything big and lavish, something small with our family; some old and some new. 

“You bought my dad’s house?” I asked while peering over my shoulder at him. 

Noah turned me around so I could face him head on and pressed my hands against his chest, the diamond on my left ring finger catching the light of the setting sun.

“I contacted a realtor shortly after we left about buying your dads house. It didn’t feel right letting it go to someone else. Your dad lived here for half of his life, Y/N. It deserves to stay in the family,” he explained. 

I blew out a shaky breath while resting my head against his shoulder, those strong arms wrapping around me yet again. 

“Thank you.” 

Noah brushed his lips over my forehead. “You’re not mad I bought a house without asking you? Especially your dad’s house?” 

“Not at all. I was at a dark point in my life the last time we were here that all I wanted was to forget about this place. But I’m so thankful you bought it,” I slipped my hands up his sweater over his stomach, grazing my nails over the warm skin. 

Chase stepped into my view as my face was buried into Noah’s chest and he was twirling the key around his finger. “We replaced most of the furniture you had sold before you put it up on the market. Noah hired a paint crew to come through and put a fresh coat everywhere. It’s like a new house but still has the old bones of when your dad lived here, if that makes sense.” 

Stepping out of Noah’s embrace, I pulled Chase in for a hug while smushing his face into my chest and kissed the top of his head which due to how tall he was made it difficult. 

“I love you, bud.” 

He grumbled under his breath while pushing me back into Noah’s embrace and adjusting his messed up shirt. Even with his teasing, I could see the love in his bright blue eyes. 

“Keep it up and you’re walking yourself down the aisle,” Chase taunted and then turned on his heels to walk over to Malcolm, who had been unloading the rental car. 

As the two of them shared a kiss, I called out to them while Noah and I continued to stand on the front step of our new home. 

“I’m going to drag you guys down the aisle with me if I have too!” 

Noah chuckled, brushing a kiss across my lips. “I can’t believe we’re getting married.” 

“I know!” I giggled while wrapping my hands behind his neck. “Do you think we kind of jump the gun, though? We don’t have a venue. The only thing we have planned is my dress, your outfit, and the bridal party.” 

“About that,” he sprawled his hands over my lower back as everyone else moved around us, bringing in their suitcases into the house. 

It was decided that we all would stay here because we had plenty of space. 

“How would you feel about getting married in the backyard? I know it might not be your dream wedding but I just thought it would be perfect. Lots of space for all of us, privacy fence so no one can spy on us, and the girls already have an idea on how to decorate it. If you’re alright with that. We don’t want you to feel pressured-.” 

I placed a hand over Noah’s mouth to stop his rambling. “Mochi, you know you ramble when you’re nervous?” 

He nodded as I continued. “We could literally get married in the bedroom with just us two and it would be my dream wedding.” 

Matt suddenly appeared over Noah’s shoulder. “Technically it wouldn’t be legal unless you had someone who was ordained.” 

Rolling my eyes, I let my hand drop from Noah’s mouth only to link my fingers with his as we began slowly walking up the rest of the way towards the front door with Matt. 

“Speaking of being ordained, did you do what you needed to?” Noah asked. 

“Yes. I am officially ordained in Japan,” Matt wore a big smile. “So I get to marry my best friends.” 

“How’s Dove feeling?” I asked while motioning towards Matt’s cousin, who was off to the far side of the yard with Faye, having their own conversation. 

“She’s okay, might take some time but she’ll get there,” Matt nodded while stuffing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I appreciate you guys letting her come, given you don’t really know her.” 

Noah waved him off. “Dove is your cousin, Matt. Which means she’s family, just like you.” 

“I’ve always watched out for her when we were growing up so whatever I can do to protect her, I’ll do it.” 

Once Matt left us to run towards Faye and Dove, I felt Noah squeeze my hand which caused me to gaze over at him with furrowed brows. 

“Did your mom ever call you back?” He wondered. 

I scoffed, doing my best not to let the anger I felt festering inside of me not ruin the whirlwind high we’d been feeling since our proposal last month. 

“Nope. I left her a voicemail all three times that I called her to tell her what’s going on,” I answered. 

Noah’s shoulders fell. “Does that make you upset?” 

“Honestly?” I shrugged. “Not really. She’d never been around for any other big moments of my life. I have everyone here that’s important to me. That’s all that matters.” 

With a smile, he motioned towards the house behind me. “Are you ready to go inside?” 

“Oh,” I muttered as my shoulders fell because I realized that this would be the first time I stepped inside my dad’s place since his funeral. 

Well, now I guess it would be our house.

Glancing over my shoulder to the front door less than a few feet in front of us, I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. Chase and Noah mentioned that it was basically a new house inside with a fresh coat of paint and new furniture. Deep down I knew that even though everything was new inside, my dad’s spirit would be lingering there. 

“Yeah,” I finally nodded while looking back at him. “I’ve been telling myself it’s a fresh start, ya know?” 

With a tender kiss to my hand, Noah led me through the front door as we took the first step together towards our future. 

READER

“What the fuck!? JOE!” I yelled while pushing away from the table and running towards the familiar face that had just walked into the ramen restaurant. 

Joe broke out in laughter as I nearly tackled him to the ground. “Hey kid.” 

All of us were having a little makeshift rehearsal dinner at a ramen place that my dad loved the night before the wedding. We all made plans for when Bad Omens, ERRA, and Hollow Souls played Inkarceration. Then spent most of the night reminiscing on past memories. Every so often, I’d catch Noah looking at his phone before letting his gaze linger on the door of the restaurant but never thought much of it. I’d been in a deep conversation with Dove as she talked about what happened when she was on the road a month ago. 

“What the hell are you doing in Japan?” I asked Joe after pulling away from our hug. 

“Oh you know, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d come by to say hello,” he playfully smirked. 

I rolled my eyes as I felt Noah walk up beside me, giving Joe a handshake. “Thanks for coming. I know it was kind of last minute.” 

Joe waved Noah off. “All good. Thank you guys for the invite.” 

My stomach dropped when I realized from the craziness of the last month, I’d forgotten to invite one of my good friends. Forever thankful that Noah thought of it, I rose on my toes to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“You thought of everything, huh?” I breathed in his ear. 

Noah looked at me, something mischievous in his ember eyes. “You have no idea, angel.” 

Dragging both Joe and Noah back to the table, we all eased back into the dinner and every so often I’d feel Noah squeeze my thigh before inching his fingers up closer to my core. With the amount of people in the house, we decided that we would hold off on sex until our wedding night. 

Needless to say, both of us were extremely wound up but I kept telling myself that it would all be worth it in two nights' time when we finally had the house to ourselves.  

Once we all finished dinner, we all piled out of the restaurant with a suggestion from Nicholas to check out the local market in town. While most of the group dispersed in their own directions, Noah and I found ourselves alone for the first time in hours. 

“I’m so stuffed,” Noah groaned while rubbing a hand over his stomach. 

I wrapped my arms tighter around him while burying my face into his chest as we walked down the market block in Japan. 

“Are you happy you finally got your real ramen?” I teased while poking his chest. 

With a playful roll of his eyes, Noah brushed a kiss along my forehead as we walked through the crowds of people that gathered at the market. Earlier before dinner, I’d bought about four different mangas that had characters on the cover that looked like Noah, something he made sure to grumble about. 

“How the hell does this Yamada guy look like me?” He asked, utterly confused while holding up one of the mangas. 

I snatched it from him, holding it close to my chest. “I bet if I found a picture of you with this exact hair cut and did a side by side comparison, you’d see I’m right. Too bad you cut your hair yesterday.” 

Noah’s hair had been unruly lately so with the wedding coming up, he’d shaved the ends while still keeping the levi cut up top. Even though I'd always love his longer hair, I had to admit he looked absolutely gorgeous this way as well. 

“Y/N, look,” Noah pulled us to a stop, his arms around my shoulder, and pointed in front of us. 

Following his long finger, my eyes landed on a familiar older figure standing at one of the book tents in the market. 

“It’s older you!” I squealed, a little too loudly. 

The older gentleman looked over towards us at my outburst and when the look of remembrance crossed his face, he gave us a small wave. 

“Well, look who it is!” Older Noah smiled while walking over to us. “What are the odds I’d run into you guys in Japan?” 

Throughout the years, this was the third time we’d run into the older gentleman and his wife. The first time at the coffee shop back when Bad Omens and Hollow Souls toured together, the second time when Noah and I spent the afternoon at the pier where he bought me ice cream, and now here in Japan. Yet it was then that I noticed he was alone. 

“Ah, yes,” Older Noah tapped the book against his chest when he noticed me looking around. “My Allie passed away a month ago.”

Both Noah and I sucked in a breath, something the older one waved off. “Please, no pity. She lived a good and long life before the Alzhiemers took her.”

“Are you in Japan alone?” Noah wondered. 

“No,” the older one shook his head before adjusting his glasses. “My granddaughter, Lori is around here somewhere. What brings you two to Japan?” 

Noah linked my hand in his and brough the ring up to his lips, peppering it in kisses. “We’re getting married.” 

Older Noah’s eyes lit up at the news. “Well, good for you two! I still remember seeing you two in that coffee shop so long ago. The love in your eyes when you looked at her.” 

A crimson hue covered Noah’s face and I giggled while swinging our hands together. 

“I can’t explain it,” Old Noah began while flipping through the book he always seemed to have with him. “Something told me that I’d be running into you two again and soon which is why I made sure to bring this book with me. I read it to my Allie almost every night since it was her favorite.” 

Through the hustle and bustle of the market crowd, we barely could hear the soft sob that fell from Older Noah’s lips before he continued. “Since there’s no use for it anymore, I think I’ll give it to you two as a wedding gift.” 

Noah shook his head. “We can’t. That book means a lot to you-.” 

“Nonsense,” Older Noah smiled. “Please take it. My Allie would want you to have it.”

Gently I took the old book from his shaking hands and immediately brought it to my chest. “Thank you, Noah. You barely know us but for you to trust us with something so special to you, means a lot.” 

He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his tan coat. “You two remind me of me and Allie when we were young.” 

My Noah pressed a kiss to the side of my head and pulled me into his chest. “Do you have any advice for us to make our marriage last as long as yours did?” 

Older Noah gave us a faint smile while someone from behind him waved after him, calling his name. 

“The second you stop loving each other and pretending that your love story isn't real is when one of you starts to think you’re not worthy of the other.”

Just as a young woman tapped her hand on Older Noah’s shoulder, Michael appeared next to me, almost out of breath. 

“Whatever you do, don’t ask Dove for a race. She’s way to fucking fast,” he took a large gulp of air. 

“Grandpa! You can’t just wander off like that,” the woman next to Older Noah chastised him while adjusting her red cat eye framed glasses. 

Something in the air shifted around us when Michael and the woman, who I assumed was Lori the granddaughter, caught sight of each other. I could see something change inside of Michael as his eyes lit up with something I recognized so often in Noah’s eyes. 

Tapping my Noah’s chest, I glanced over at him while Michael introduced himself to Older Noah and Lori. 

“Think we can add two more to our guest list?” I asked. 

Noah smirked. “Already two steps ahead of you, angel.”

NOAH

Hiding a yawn behind my hand, I eased back into the couch a bit more while stretching my long legs out farther. The house finally settled down, all of the girls retreating to the larger bedroom to do whatever girls did the night before a wedding while us guys were scattered throughout the living room. Joe was staying at a hotel down the road and he left a bit ago. 

Both Nick’s and Jolly were on one of the couches trying to decide on what to watch. Matt was pacing the length of the kitchen practicing his speech for tomorrow. Chase and Malcolm were in the office working on a special project for Y/N for tomorrow. Davis and Bryan were playing a card game at the kitchen table. 

Michael, however, was still out on his walk with Lori. After our encounter yesterday, they exchanged numbers and Michael asked her if she wanted to go out on a walk with him.

I was sitting on the couch with Jesse next to me as I scrolled through listings on my phone. Earlier today when Y/N and I were talking about our future after the wedding, the topic of where we would live came up. Even though we both knew Michael and Jesse would never kick us out now that we were married, Y/N felt it would be better for us as a couple if we finally had our own place together. 

So after discussing it with her and promising I wouldn’t buy another house without her permission, I had been texting her every possible listing I found. Y/N’s main concern with every single one: Is it too far from everyone? 

She knew my end goal in life, after everything settled down in Bad Omens so she understood why I kept sending her listings from far. 

"Way down the road maybe one day in the future- to live in the middle of nowhere with a dog, cats, and a family of my own. In my wooden home that I built."

Jesse shifted on the couch next to me causing me to glance over at him. “How’s Salem and Kuma?” 

“JT said they’re good. He took Kuma on a three mile run earlier so he’s currently passed out in the middle of his kitchen floor,” Jesse chuckled. 

Since most of us were in Japan, we needed someone to watch Salem and Kuma. JT immediately offered when Jesse brought it up. 

“Have you found a place yet?” He asked while motioning to my phone. 

I sighed while dropping it to my lap so I could rub out the stress from my temples. “There is one that looks promising. Has everything we need. But the neighbors are about a mile away which is a little too close for us. We envision complete solace. Is that bad?” 

He shook his head while running a hand through his unruly curls. “Not at all. It’s fine to want some privacy. I mean, it’s why you guys are thinking of moving out anyway.” 

“I know,” I nodded before showing him the listing. “It wouldn’t be so bad if one of you guys moved in next door since the house next door is for sale too so maybe I could talk Y/N into buying both so we can have extra space. I emailed the relator earlier so now it’s the waiting game. ” 

Over my laughter from my joke, I nearly missed the way Jesse let out a low hum as he clicked on the listing for the house next door. 

THIRD PERSON POV

A soft breeze blew through the bright cherry blossom stems, bringing a sense of calm to everyone who sat, patiently waiting to watch a harmony of two people becoming one. They all waited with baited breath for Y/N to emerge from the back door while Noah stood at the end of the aisle with Matt. Noah radiated nerves and did his best to keep his shaking hands hidden behind his back so he didn’t run them through his hair. It had been slicked back perfectly for the wedding and he couldn’t risk messing it up before Y/N saw it. 

Even though a lot of aspects of their wedding wasn’t traditional, Y/N still wanted to keep some parts. They hadn’t seen each other since late last night after Noah and her snuck into the bathroom for a sweet kiss goodnight. While the guys got ready, the girls went out for breakfast. When it was time for Y/N and the rest were time to get ready, all of the guys went for lunch. Anything they could to stay away from each other. Noah didn’t want to risk ruining her big moment so he did his best to stay far away from her; even if it was killing him on the inside. 

Noah was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white button up shirt, something he didn’t wear often. On the lapels of his dress shirt were angel wings pins that connected with a golden chain. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing not only his tattoos but also the silver bracelet; the one that mirrored Y/N’s. 

Matt bumped his shoulder with Noah’s. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’m going to throw up all over my shoes,” he admitted with a staggered breath. 

“Just take deep breaths like Dr. P instructs you. It’s just Y/N, no need to be nervous,” Matt assured Noah before pressing down the front of his shirt. 

When Matt asked Y/N last night if he could still wear his hat during the ceremony, Faye immediately smacked him upside the head causing said hat to fall to the ground. 

“These are your best friends, Matthew! You’re not wearing a hat during the ceremony!” Faye chastised him. 

So now, here Matt was standing next to Noah, ready to officiate the wedding while wearing a black button up with pants to match and his blonde locks pulled back into a low bun. Faye couldn’t stop staring at him as she stood off to the side, one of Y/N’s bridesmaids. 

Astrid was the maid of honor, followed by Tay and Faye as bridesmaids. On Noah’s side it was Nicholas as the best man, given their years of friendship and history. Jesse and Joakim were the other two groomsmen. Although they had a big family, Noah and Y/N decided on keeping the bridal party small. 

The backyard was littered with vast amounts of Japanese lanterns that illuminated the space around them as the sun was beginning to set. There was a large cherry blossom tree in the yard where Noah stood, waiting for his bride. A few petals managed to fall off a branch with a sudden gust of wind and lingered on his shoulder. As he was about to brush them away, there was a soft voice that seemed to whisper in his ear, halting Noah. Just as the patio doors opened, a butterfly landed on the other shoulder and that voice from earlier spoke in his ear again. 

“Think I’d miss this?” 

Noah’s eyes snapped over to the two empty chairs in the front row. One with a picture of Y/N’s father and the other, the one that had his immediate attention, was a picture of Keaton. 

“Glad you’re here, buddy,” Noah spoke under his breath. 

The speakers that Matt had set up in the yard began to play a familiar tune; an instrumental version of You and I. Like a lot of other things in their wedding, the song that Y/N chose to walk down the aisle wasn't the typical song played at every other wedding. They wanted to be different, to show that their love was different than anyone else's. Their love story wasn’t like any told in existence or written in books. 

The clouds above in the sun kissed sky opened up to let those rays paint the figure at the end of the aisle who was flanked by Chase on one side and Malcolm on the other. Suddenly, a flash of every moment between them flashed in Noah’s eyes; the good, the bad, the private ones. Everything they’d gone through the last couple years, from the moment he stepped off the tour bus to right now. It was all worth it. 

Noah was worthy. 

Y/N was worthy. 

And now, in a matter of minutes, their bodies and souls would collide while they danced together in the moonlight as the stars aligned for them. 

The moment Noah’s eyes locked with Y/N’s, all of the breath had been stolen from his lungs. He felt frozen in a time loop, trying to gather if this was real life and he wasn't still stuck in his dreamstate. Tears welled in his eyes as he let out a choked laugh when he saw Malcolm needing a moment before they began their walk towards Noah. 

It was evident that everyone was affected in some way or another by seeing Y/N in her dress. Malcolm blew out a few deep breaths before he nodded over to Chase. 

“I’m ready.” 

Chase raised a brow. “You sure? We can wait another minute if you need.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened. “No the fuck we can’t. Noah is waiting for me.” 

She was thankful her hair was pulled back by an angel wing hair clip with only a few strands falling in her face because the heat emanating from her body brought a thin sweat to her skin. 

“Alright,” Malcolm hooked his arm with hers again. “Let’s get you married.” 

With the song still playing, all three of them took a shared breath, before they began the walk down the shortened aisle. While everyone's eyes were on her, Y/N only had eyes for one person. 

Noah. 

Who currently had tears rolling down his face and made no effort to wipe them away. On one of his shoulders was a few petals from the cherry blossom tree above him while on the other shoulder there was a pretty blue butterfly that made no effort to move. She noticed the angel wings pin on the collar of his shirt as when her gaze fell to the buckle on Noah’s belt, Y/N sucked in a breath. 

Her dad. 

Noah wore her fathers belt buckle that had his initials. Her dad only wore it on special occasions and he had it in the family for the last 30 years. 

As she walked past all of her friends, Joe gave her a wide smirk with a wink; an action that told her one thing. 

Told ya you guys would be here. 

For a brief moment, Y/N remembered how Joe was there for her when they toured together and assured her that the break between Noah and her were exactly what they needed to get to this moment. 

The invisible string that bound them together began to vibrate deep within their chests as Y/N closed the distance to Noah. All day, she’d felt sick because of the nerves that ate away at her. But now that she stood in front of him, all the worry fell to the grass beneath her feet. 

With kisses from Chase and Malcom to her cheeks, they gave Y/N away to Noah who took her hand happily. 

“Hi, angel,” he let out a giggle. 

“Hi yourself, mochi,” she blew out a shaky breath. 

One they stood across from each other, Y/N handed her bouquet of Violets over to Astrid while Faye handed her something special. 

“Before we get started, I have something for Matt,” Y/N spoke while placing a hat on top of Matt. 

The word Officiant was bold and large in white letters on the front. 

“Oh thank god,” Matt let out a long breath while adjusting the hat. 

“There’s the Matt I know and love,” Y/N smiled before linking hands with Noah again. “Alright, now marry us already because I’m dying to kiss Noah.” 

A chorus of laughter echoed in the backyard before finally settling and Matt cleared his throat. Even with the shaking of nerves from Noah, the butterfly on his shoulder didn’t falter and that’s when Y/N got a good look at the three dots on one of the wings. While Matt began his speech, a flutter of wings caught Y/N’s attention for a brief moment. A butterfly with black and yellow stripes landed on her wrist as she continued to hold Noah’s hand. She sucked in a breath when the realization hit what kind of butterfly it was. 

A Japanese Luehdorfia.

Y/N’s father spent a lot of his free time while living in Japan studying butterflies and these ones were his favorite. With the butterfly on Noah’s shoulder and the one on her wrist, the final two guests had arrived. 

“I love you,” Noah mouthed to her as Matt rambled on about how everyone has a soulmate in their life. 

Y/N squeezed his hands. “I love you more.” 

“Alright everyone knows how much I love to yap but now it’s time for Noah and Y/N to exchange their vows,” Matt smiled as he took a small step away from them to give them their own space. 

Noah cleared his throat before taking a deep breath and did his best to calm the rapid beating of his heart. 

“This is about to be long so please bear with me,” Noah jokes. 

Jesse parted his lips to say something but with a sharp glare from Tay, he snapped his mouth shut. 

“Angel, I never knew truly just how much my life would change when we got the call about us touring together. When we met, I was in a weird place in my life but never knew that in such a short amount of time that everything was going to be okay again. Every moment spent with you that summer was something I could never forget; I didn't want to forget. That was the summer I knew we'd be here, together.”

Y/N squeezed Noah’s hand, both of the butterflies still resting on them, as he continued on with his vows. Everyone realized that he wasn’t reading from something, everything he spoke came from his mind on the fly.

“There was always something that held us away from each other, whether we sucked at communicating. More so, I really sucked at communicating. Or the fear that I wasn't worthy to be loved so strongly by you. The world stopped moving when you walked out that hotel room door. Which is why I made a promise to myself never to see you walk away like that again. Everything that's happened in our lives has led us to this spot. I wrote some silly little words in a hotel room years ago "Would you say I'm worthy?" and not a day goes by where you don't find a way to show me I'm worthy of you. That bracelet on your arm where the butterfly rests, Every morning you're in my bed, every time you burst in the room to share with me an idea for a song or painting you have. After all that time, after all those tears and pain and wondering if I was worthy, I can finally say out loud that we both are worthy. I won't drown you out, and I will wait for you no matter where we are. You were my angel before, and you're my angel now and forever.”

Y/N brushed away the tears with the hand that didn’t have the butterfly resting on her. “Thank Hades for waterproof mascara.” 

With his eyes lingering on the silver chain and locket hanging around Y/N’s neck, Noah continued on. “Y/N, I spent so much time overthinking the past, where it slipped away all the time we let escape from the both of us while we tried to heal ourselves so we could be better for each other. At first I succumbed, kept myself numb while I tried to deal with the fact that I may be losing you. But I was not okay, I was not alright. How many times have I survived trying to feel like I’m alive? Never being able to change and get outside of my own head. I thought I knew that you couldn’t change me anyway but that’s where I was wrong, Angel. Because you had already changed me.”

Something shifted in the air around everyone and the butterfly on Noah’s shoulder began flapping its wings, almost like it was ready to take off. Y/N saw something ignite in the dark embers of Noah’s eyes as he spoke the final words of his vows. 

“I was a helpless mess but you stole my pain, Novocain. You made me feel alive the moment I first saw you. I know now that I no longer have to survive because now, I have something that makes living so worthy. It’s you. In time the price we pay in pain brought us eternal peace. There is no Angel without Mochi, and there is no Mochi without Angel. I look at you right here before me and the same voice that’s been with me from the first time I met you is singing that it’s all okay. Everything is okay Angel, it’s you and me until forever.”

Just as Noah finished his vows, the butterfly on his shoulder fluttered up into the air to fly around both of them before shooting up into the air. 

Swallowing thickly, Y/N adjusted her wrist to grab the papers that Astrid held out to her and yet again, the butterfly on her wrist remained unmoving. 

“How the fuck am I supposed to follow that?” She chuckled. 

“You can’t,” Noah winked. 

Playfully rolling her eyes, Y/N took a centering breath and began reading from the papers in her hands. 

“Noah, or Mochi if you will, I was stuck in an endless cycle of never knowing what love truly felt like. I spent so many days and nights wondering when I would bloom. The day I stepped off that bus and saw your face is when I started. I couldn't help myself but wonder if the look in your eyes was real or not, I was so scared you wouldn't see me for more than what everyone made me out to be. Yet you never saw that version of me that people created. You only saw me.”

“That day in the hotel when I walked out, I felt my world break. I knew at that moment it was you and only you but I was so scared I wouldn't be what you wanted or needed. I was so worried I was holding you back from the life you dreamt so heavily of because of my condition. You never saw the endometriosis, you never held those struggles against me. You love me despite all my faults.” 

“Those are not faults, Y/N,” Noah wiped a tear away from her face. 

Leaning into his palm, she pressed a tender kiss. “I know. It took a lot of sessions with Dr. Poulos for me to realize that I can't let my condition define me, shout out to her for that and put my head on straight.” 

Everyone let out a small chuckle of laughter as Older Noah watched with a faint smile on his lips because he knew how well his Allie would relate with Y/N and their shared conditions. But with his granddaughter sitting next to him, Older Noah knew that a miracle could happen for them as well. 

“I came from a broken home and was made to believe on one side that I wouldn’t get this; would get this life I created on my own and with you. I was told that no one would love me despite my condition. Not only you, Noah, but everyone here never saw me differently. You all took me in like one of your own, took Chase and Malcolm in. You all were a family but let us in on that first day of tour.” 

Bryan snapped away picture after picture, cementing these vows forever with something Y/N and Noah can look back on. Especially when the butterfly on her wrist finally moved for the first time and now rested on her abdomen while Y/N spoke the final proclamation of her love for Noah. 

“I always knew it was safer by your side and knew I just had to give it time. Chase and Malcolm always told me "if you can keep the love alive, you'll survive." It was so deep in my soul and I held on to that. Noah, from the moment I walked in your house for that party to the moment we finally admitted it was always going to be you and I. You will forever be worthy of my love. Every breath I take will be for you, from now until the last and after that, meet me in the epilogue so I can find that smile. Mochi, our stars aligned and I'll keep them there for as long as you let me.”

By now, there wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd, especially Nicholas who watched his best friend bounce on the soles of his feet. Noah was ready to kiss his bride. But first, they exchanged rings. 

“Well,” Matt cleared his throat, doing his best to mask his emotions. “We’re going to skip over the part where I ask if anyone objects because we all have been waiting for this to happen. So with that being said, by all the powers invented and by that one website, I announce you two husband and wife. Noah, for the love of the Gods, kiss your bride!”

Right as Noah reached for Y/N’s waist, the butterfly fluttered away in the same path the other had done moments ago. With a wink, Noah pulled her to his chest and brushed his lips across hers. It was slow at first, both savoring the moment as the world faded away around them, then all at once the pace increased as the invisible string between them tied the final knot to connect their souls once and for all. 

“Mrs. Sebastian,” Noah brushed his nose across Y/N’s. 

She broke out in a fit of giggles while wrapping her arms around Noah’s waist to bury her face in his chest. “About fucking time.” 

THIRD PERSON POV

The moonlight glimmered high in the sky, bathing everyone in the yard in a luminescent glow. It was well into the evening, everyone calming down from the long day of celebration. 

After the ceremony, Noah and Y/N immediately went into the house where Nicholas had his tattoo equipment set up. They each got one simple tattoo on the inside of their wrists. 

Worthy. 

Now they sat together in one of the large outdoor chairs with Y/N in his lap as Noah buried his face in her neck. His heart would not stop beating wildly in his chest because finally, after all the hell they overcame, they were finally where they were meant to be. They danced together for the first time as husband and wife to Just Pretend-Acoustic; the same version Noah sang to her the night he proposed. 

Jolly and Astrid hung off to a secluded corner of the yard while he rested a hand over her bump. She was only a few months along but now she was showing which caused Jolly to not stop wearing that bright smile. He was beyond proud of the family he created. 

Faye and Matt were in the middle of the made-up dance floor as she rambled on about all the little ideas she loved about the wedding and how she wanted their wedding to go. Matt listened intently without saying a word, simply watching his fiancé with adoration in his eyes. 

Tay was sitting with Dove, both of them giggling about something, while Jesse watched from a distance. He’d been planning things all evening in his head, mapping out his life and it was evident in the way his heart lurched in his throat when Tay continued to laugh that he was feeling an emotion that was new for him. Closing the distance between them, Jesse extended a hand towards Tay, who titled his head at him. 

“May I have this dance?” He asked as Repay by The Plot In You began playing through the speakers. 

Tay glanced over to Dove, feeling bad it was interrupting their conversation but the brunette waved her off. “If you don’t dance with your man, I’ll push you into him.” 

Once Tay was finally in Jesse’s embrace, they began to slowly move about the yard and he brushed his forehead against hers. 

“I love you,” he proclaimed for the first time. 

Tay’s eyes widened and leaned away from Jesse to get a good look in those chocolate boba eyes. “What?” 

He cupped her cheek to lay a small yet forceful kiss to her lips. “I love you so much, darlin. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, I just needed to-.” 

“I love you too. So fucking much, Jesse. I’ve realized it for a while but was so afraid you wouldn’t feel the same yet.” 

As new love blossomed, new beginnings were starting for Michael and Lori as they sat in front of the bonfire as they divulged about themselves to each other. Bryan and Davis offered to take Older Noah back to the hotel and were booking rooms for everyone else because for the first time in a week since they first arrived, Noah and Y/N would be alone. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Y/N whispered in Noah’s ear as she continued to sit on his lap. 

“You do?” His brows peaked as his cock twitched underneath her. 

She said nothing, simply pressed a kiss to his cheek before sauntering into the house. 

READER

I shook out the nerves from my hands as I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. The white lace stood out against my complexion and I double checked to make sure my breasts were pressed up perfectly. Turning to the side slightly, I peaked at my ass that was barely covered by the end of the lingerie. When I found it in the store a few weeks ago, I knew immediately I had to buy it from the angel wings alone. 

I never wore anything like this for Noah before which is why I was extremely nervous. While our sex life was extraordinary, I was still very unsure on how he felt about me dressing up in something like this. 

“Stop being a pussy!” I pointed at my reflection. “You’re hot. You married THE Noah Sebastian!” 

I quickly shook my head. “No, he married THE Y/N L/N, well now Sebastian. But that’s beside the point. You are going to bring this man to his knees. He loves you and would fuck you even if you wore a potato sack.” 

Realizing I was still rambling to myself, I shook my head and quickly spritzed myself with my perfume; Noah’s new favorite of mine that smelled like peaches. Fluffing out my hair, I gave my reflection a curt nod before flipping off the lights and stepping out of the bathroom. The house was quiet, only the floor creaking beneath my feet as I crossed the hallway into the bedroom Noah and I dubbed ours. We decided to make my dads bedroom the new office, the old office our bedroom, and still keep the guest room the same. 

As I walked into the bedroom, I saw Noah sitting on the end of the bed with his gaze down on the floor between his feet. He’d changed out of his wedding attire and wore only a pair of red briefs. His shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath as his hair dangled in his face but made no effort to brush it away. When he played with the new black band around his ring finger, I took in the sight of the new tattoo on the inside of his wrist, the same one I had. 

Worthy. 

Clearing my throat, I stood a few inches in front of Noah with my hands behind my back, trying hard not to knock into the ends of the angel wings. His head snapped up from the floor and when they landed on my form, his pupils bled darkness. 

“Uh, do you like it?” I shifted on my feet, waiting for his answer. 

Noah was still silent, only keeping his eyes on my breasts that were barely hidden underneath the white lace. He made no move towards me which made me start to second guess this idea. 

“This was stupid,” I muttered before turning on my heels. 

A hand shot out to grasp my hand, halting me, and when I glanced back I saw Noah staring up at me. 

“You’re a literal fucking angel,” he mused before yanking me down to his lap. 

The head of his cock pressed against the thin material of his briefs and I bit back a moan when I felt it brush along my core. 

“My angel,” Noah praised while fingering the end of the wings. “Keep these on.” 

I raised a brow at him while brushing away the hair from his face. “The wings doing it for you, Mochi? Do you want to chase me through the woods while you wear your mask and fuck me with them on?” 

“Don’t tempt me,” he groaned while dragging his teeth over my collar bone. 

With his hands on my hips, Noah guided me along his cock as I let my head fall back in bliss. I’d been wound up all week due to us deciding not to be sexual with each other and knew that if he even breathed on my clit, I would orgasm. 

I gently pushed him away from me to lay him down on the bed while I fell to my knees between his legs. 

“Oh fuck,” Noah ground out while letting his head fall to the bed as I dragged his briefs down the length of his thick legs. 

My lips parted over the leaking head of his cock with my fingers wrapping around the base. I hummed in pure delight as the salty taste lingered on my lips when I sank my mouth down on him. 

"So good," I praised looking up at him through my lashes

He groaned with pleasure as I took my time with him. I wanted to savor the way he always tasted. 

"Angel," Noah warned. “Please. I need you."

I popped off of him and wiped away the drool from my chin as I rose to my feet slowly. "Is Noah Sebastian begging?"

“For my wife? Yes I am.”

"Well, who am I to make you wait," I straddled his hips once again. 

Neither of us wanted to wait any longer so he undone the buttons of the lingerie teddy to expose my bare cunt to his awaiting cock. His eyes snapped up to me for a moment so I gave him a nod right before he guided himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me completely. It pulsed inside of me, earning a desperate groan.

Noah's eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted, his hands gripping my hips so tight I was sure there would be bruises in the morning. But I didn't care. Having him finally inside of me felt so fucking good.

Having my husband inside of me made my soul come alive. 

I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against his warm stomach and I shivered at the sensation, the coil in my stomach pulling taut. Noah’s eyes jumped to the silver chain around my neck and gripped it with force to pull my lips down to his, devouring me 

“Mine,” Noah demanded while fucking up into me. 

I let out a silent yell when he hit the spot that made my spine ignite but the chain tightened around my throat, nearly cutting off my airway. 

“Say it,” he panted. “Say your mine, Y/N.” 

“I’m yours, Noah. Forever yours.” 

He attacked my lips with so much force I had to rest a hand on his chest, our tongues exploring each other's mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Noah's hips finally moved in a slow, steady stroke, and I whined into the kiss.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

"Fuck, angel." He groaned. "It's too good."

I cupped his face to look at him. "Cum for me, Noah. Fill me up, please. I need you to cum with me.” 

That's all he needed before his arms wrapped around my back, nearly crushing the angel wings,  pulling me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Noah who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along it.

My body hummed in a prayer-like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but a matter of air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her husband, and my toes curled when I finally came apart, Noah slowly falling behind me. 

THIRD PERSON POV

As Y/N and Noah lay together in a mess of tangled limbs, both coming down from their shared high, he let the sounds of her deep breathing ease him into his own slumber. Her discarded lingerie and wings lay scattered on the ground and Noah made a mental note of asking Y/N on how she felt about hanging them up in their home. 

He couldn’t stop watching her sleep with a smile that no one could erase. She was his. Finally Y/N was his wife and he would do whatever he could to make her happy. 

Long fingers dragged up and down the snake tattoo on her back, almost like how he had the night they first lay together. The long day was coming to an end, the new chapter of their lives began tomorrow, which caused Noah to sweat all over because he couldn’t help but let the anxious thoughts creep in.

Take a breath, Noah. It’s okay. 

Doing just that, he eased into the warmth Y/N proved and rested a hand on her stomach, finally letting himself succumb to the darkness. 

“Love you, mochi,” she mumbled into the skin of his chest. 

He kissed her forehead. “Love you more, angel.”

The rain that surrounded them in the beginning was no longer something that drowned them. It couldn’t rain all the time. Their love was forever unbroken. It created lines upon lines of memories, some old and some new. It brought about friendships that tied together as one family. All because of a miracle that had yet to present itself. They were no longer afraid of the wars that were waged against their sins. They weren’t okay in the beginning but their love proved that they no longer had to pretend. They waited each other out and Y/N would forever stay until morning. 

All because they both were worthy.

[ink-and-dagger]

Hi Legacy, thank you for your comment and for your compliment about my writing. Unfortunately, Tumblr wouldn’t let me leave this response to your comment under the fic, so I am having to add it onto your reblog. Something I really, genuinely, did not want to have to do.

I hear what you are saying, and am in full agreement with you - tags play a vital role in reader protection, and there’s nothing more frustrating (and in some cases dangerous) than people misusing them.

However, a few words now in my own defence.

I am not new here. I have been writing and posting Silco fics since Arcane first aired back in 2021. It seems more likely in this case that you are new if not to the Arcane fandom then to my blog/writing specifically - so allow me to provide a bit of context which may help, because I don’t believe this case is as cut-and-dry as you believe it to be. I began posting my multi-chapter Silco x Reader fic Drink With Me in January 2022, and updated regularly until its completion in July of that same year. I was extremely lucky in that my story gained a lot of traction and interaction within the fandom throughout that time. People became extremely invested in the Reader character, and would ask me all sorts of questions about her. That’s how Astrid was born. She became a point of reference outside the fic for those who wanted someone to visualise, whilst the fic itself remained strictly a Reader Insert. In the few years since this story wrapped up, my followers have remained invested in the ‘Drink With Me’ universe (again, I’m incredibly lucky and thankful for this), and to this day I receive tons of requests for bonus content set within this universe that I try to fulfil whenever I can. Despite these ficlets being connected to a main multi-chapter fic, most of them can easily be read as a standalone and do not require the context or any prior knowledge of the main fic to make sense. Additionally, as I did with the main fic, they are always written in 2nd person, the character is never referred to by name, and I never use any physical descriptors beyond anatomical ones during smut. If you were to take away any and all tags and look purely at the text alone, it reads as a traditional reader insert, which is why I tag it as such. I include the ‘Astrid’ and ‘OC’ tags for those people who are familiar with the DWM fic and universe and who specifically follow me for this reason, so that they know in their minds that the ficlet relates to the world/timeline of Drink With Me in some way shape or form. I think the point I’m trying to make is that those who are familiar with me and my work will see the ‘Astrid/OC’ tag and go “Ah cool it’s this universe”. Whereas for everyone else I add the ‘can be read as gen!reader insert’ note at the top so that they can go “Ah cool, let me just ignore that character tag then” and happily read it as a general reader insert fic perfectly fine. I hope that makes a bit more sense as to why I tag this way, why I’ve always tagged this way, and why I will continue to tag this way for my Drink With Me adjacent works. If I ever were to write something in 1st or 3rd person or that described the MC in a very specific way, then I would of course not tag that as a reader fic.

Now, so long as we’re here discussing fandom etiquette, I’d like to politely point out that adding your grievance onto the reblog of a specific fic is not a ‘gentle reminder’ - it’s a full-frontal attack on the author who wrote that fic. It would have been far better for you to create your own, separate post addressing the fandom as a whole, or to send me a quiet, private comment/DM on the side.

As I’ve already said, I empathise with your point of view, and I hope you are able to empathise with mine. If the way I choose to tag my work bothers you, then please feel free to block my account so that I don’t show up whilst you are searching for content. At the end of the day we are all individual humans - you cannot expect everyone to interpret/measure/categorise everything in the same way you would, and it’s imperative to take some measure of responsibility for cultivating your own online space, instead of relying on others to do it for you.

What if Astrid find a pic of young Silco by accident hehhehehehhehehehehhe

Snapshot

A Drink With Me ficlet

870 words || Established relationship || Silco x Astrid (but can be read as gen f!reader) || SFW but suggestive || MDNI

“Oh my Gods.”

“What?”

“Oh. My Gods.”

Time has stripped the photograph between your fingers of its glossy sheen and has left the edges blunt and frayed, but you would recognise those features anywhere; no less sharp nor striking through the faded sepia.

“This is you.”

It had slipped from between two ledgers as you’d perused Silco’s bookshelves – an activity more to entertain your idle hands than a genuine search for reading material. The image itself is simple and candid: A young man, seemingly oblivious to the fact his portrait is being taken, sat at a familiar bar, with eyes downcast toward a spread of papers.

That same man looks up at you now from a very similar spread of papers. “What is?”

“This.” You drift over to his desk and perch on its edge, all the while unable to tear your gaze from the photo in your hands. The pitch dark hair swept back into a low bun. The familiar strays – the same ones that even now will always be the first to escape any styling under the combing of agitated fingers – falling forward into his face, only far longer and thicker than you’re used to. His skin, unblemished and smooth, save for the chronic furrow between his brows – etched there long before time and tragedy ravaged the rest.

Silco hums absently; an indication that he acknowledges your discovery but finds little interest in it. You can imagine the man in the photograph making the exact same noise, were someone to distract him from his paperwork for a reason he deemed benign. You flip the photo over. No date.

“How old are you here?”

Silco exhales through his nose, places his pen down with a pointed clack, and extends his hand wordlessly toward you.

“Hah! Do you think I’m wet behind the ears?” you hold the photograph out of his reach, “You can tell just fine from over there thank you very much.”

He cuts you a scathing glance, before leaning forward in his chair with a foreboding creak to peer more closely at the image. His scarred lips purse slightly in thought.

“Mid–late twenties. I can’t say for certain.”

“You were hot.”

“Were?”

“Were and are,” you coo, reclining backwards over the desk into his space, one elbow pitched on his paperwork to hold your weight whilst you flap the photograph in front of his face, “Can I keep this?”

“For what reason?”

“Dirty ones.”

“Hardly necessary,” Silco says, the very corner of his mouth creasing upwards as he catches your wrist to halt your photo-flapping, “You have access to the real thing.”

“True, true, and you can be sure I’ll continue taking advantage of that.” You grin, shoving your captured, photo-wielding arm a little closer to him in emphasis, “But right now I’m talking about some alone time with this guy.”

Silco scoffs under his breath and releases your wrist. You twist onto your front, weight propped on both elbows as you admire the photograph in your grip. You trace a finger down the slender throat of the man in the photo, over the generous wedge of chest exposed by his open crimson collar.

“D’you think he’d notice me? If I came into that bar?”

“Oh I’m certain he would.”

“Yeah?” You lift your gaze from the man in the photo to the one before you – as equally breathtaking. More so. You catch your lower lip between your teeth. “What line would he use?”

Silco hums, low and thoughtful, leaning forward in his chair, closing in on your space. He picks up his abandoned pen, briefly twirling the implement until it’s poised between his elegant fingers like a cigarette. Nib safely facing his own palm.

“After downing the dregs of his drink for courage... he would have approached you.”

With sensual tenderness, he brushes the barrel of his pen along your cheek, warmed metal against warmer skin. Catching at the curve of your jawline, and tracing over your pulse in a way that makes it fumble a beat.

“Cast his gaze over each of your pretty, pretty features. One by one,” he murmurs, slowly drawing the end of the pen down your jugular, down the slope of your collar bone, to leisurely trail through the cut of your cleavage. The corner of your mouth hooks up. The warmth low in your belly coils a little tighter.

“He would have leaned in close,” Silco whispers, demonstrating just so, “Close enough that you’d almost taste the whiskey on his breath.”

Blunt metal drags a purposeful line up your throat, and your lips part softly as he tilts your face toward his with the barrel of his pen flat and firm beneath your chin.

“And asked you – very nicely – to stop leaning on his paperwork.”

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek while Silco’s dual eyes sizzle with smug mirth. It’d be unthinkable, really – to forfeit either one for the sake of a matching pair.

You straighten and push off his desk, hips swaying as you saunter over to the bedroom with the photograph in hand.

“Well,” you say, pausing in the threshold and turning to him with a smirk, “If you need us, you know where we’ll be.”

[its-tortle]

LUISAAAAAAAA BABY, IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!!!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳 Congratulations you gorgeous human, and I hope you have an absolutely amazing day with all the love and presents you deserve 🥰🌸💫🌷💕🌻I love you and miss you, I hope you're doing well!! Sending you a big hug and lots of forehead kisses, from me, Lily and Maisie 😘😘😘

MINNIE!!!! oh my god, it's so lovely to hear from you 🩷🩷🩷 you are always so sweet and supportive and wonderful and i am SO glad to know you ✨ thank you for the kind wishes!!! i love and miss you too!!! consider yourself hugged very tightly and give lily and maisie a kiss from me 🥰

[sisterjaniswilde]

I am dead fucking serious when I say I wish I saw more fat women in public. I want to see fat models. I want to see fat women in department stores getting absolutely HYPE when they find racks and racks of clothing in their size and sizes up, so they too can get the "oversized, baggy fit" like women who fit into smalls and mediums. I want to see fat women wearing crop tops proudly and rocking mad midriff. I want to see fat women trying on clothing for their friends and family and saying "look! it compliments my body shape! it's like it was made for me!" I want to see fat women with "cankles" wearing pretty jingling anklets skipping and jumping just to show them off. I want to see fat women on TV, in magazines, on billboards, in all manner of ads, and in online shop images because I want to see my fucking self and all the women I know who don't see enough of themselves. I want to see fat women living, loving, and being visibly proud of who they are because they are beautiful, WE are beautiful. I want to see fat women because fat women need to see other fat women.

[tariah23]

Videos are working on here again, too?

[arcanegifs]

dark scenes are truly the bane of every gifmaker's soul

I’m convinced if ppl on this site knew how crappy gifs look before you color them properly, they would appreciate editors more

[kerosene-saint]

I still love self ship so much and consider myself a selfshipper but I genuinely had to leave the community due to the amount of fighting abt proship/comship people. like. you had to pick a side. I found it easier to say "yeah sure. I'm proship. I guess." even though I wasn't because I'm really genuinely neutral on it. I don't find it helpful to put it under either label. I don't fucking care. you're allowed to write whatever the fuck you want even if I don't like it. which "technically" fits under the label of proship. but the problem was that I am not comfortable with every ship out there. not to mention people got so fucking annoying about the subject. I was tired of dealing with people acting like neutrals were terrible people just as bad as proshippers, proshippers were straight up abusers, and antis were the purest souls of all OR proshippers are all amazing people actually and have never done a thing wrong, neutrals were just one thing away from turning "bad", and antis were trying to suppress our freedom of speech and they're all horrible people who attack everyone and dox people and do really bad things and they are all like that.

BASICALLY I WAS TIRED OF THE STUPID PETTY FIGHTING FROM EVERYONE AND HOW IF I DIDN'T PICK A SIDE I WAS SEEN AS ENEMY NUNBER ONE. AND IF I PICKED "THE WRONG SIDE" I WOULD BE ATTACKED BY THE OTHER SIDE. IT WAS SHITTY. I HATED IT. AND IT IS SO BAKED INTO EVERY ASPECT OF THE SELFSHIPPING COMMUNITY.

[nadekosnake]

Sodachi & Nadeko as a pairing — Yay or nay?

Sorry this is late! 🥲 I can’t say I ever thought about it, so I wanted to consider my answer a little more. I’m not much of a shipper in the first place admittedly 🤧

My answer is “this is not a ship for me." The difference in age/where they are in life is a little too much (now in the anime, with Sodachi being in university while Nadeko being in middle school). I also view their relationship to be more like siblings, since Nadeko knows Sodachi as the friend of her best friend’s older brother.

If we’re talking later in life when difference in age/where they are in life is not as large of a factor to affect the power dynamic of their relationship (consenting adults, etc), I do think that Sodachi would still be an older-sibling-figure from Nadeko’s past… I prefer if Nadeko wouldn’t deal with that kind of situation again (speaking about her “crush” on Koyomi). I think an element of Nadeko’s arc is about the deconstruction of the stereotypical anime “imouto” charatype that she was introduced as. So to me, it would be nice for Nadeko to have a partner that doesn’t have that kind of faux older-sibling relation to her, past or present.

Apologies for the long answer! It’s a little jumbled but I hope that this suffices! 🙏😓

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BABY MOMMA. featuring k. nanami.

↻ there’s nothing nanami wants more in the world than to make you a mommy, and give you his beautiful kids.

tags : breeding kink, creampie, mommy kink (if you squint), messy sex, pet names, feral nanami, marathon sex, lactation + pregnancy (fantasized), ovulation cycle // wc. 0.9k

author’s note : sorry this one’s a lil late, i’ve been busy with theme changes and real life is throwing a million and one hurdles at me and i just can’t keep up 😞 you can't tell me that nanami wouldn't be a massive family man, so here i have him completely desperate to start a family with you and give you his babies. notes and reblogs are always appreciated, and check out my masterlist for non-event based works <3 !!

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

it’s been hours. hours since nanami even proposed the idea of trying for kids, and now, it’s all he can fucking think about. 

it’s all you can think about too, given the fact that he’s fucked you out of your mind, legs numb from being in missionary for as long as you remember with nanami plunging in and out of you, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix with every single thrust. 

it’s repetitive. it’s addicting. 

“hah- kento, can’t take no more…” your voice is a sheepish babble, nails digging into his back as tears stream down your face. “ ‘s too much, ken, please–“

nanami grunts in your ear, hips never ceasing movement as he ruts into you. “g’na have to, sweetheart. this one’s gotta take.”

he said that about the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that… and fuck, you can’t keep up with how many times he’s said it because he’s been going at it for so long with only one goal in mind. 

he’s gonna give you kids. he’s gonna make you a mommy, and you’re gonna raise his kids with him as his wife. 

it’s all he’s ever wanted. it’s all he’s ever dreamed of, and when he watches you lounge around the house wearing nothing but a bra and his oversized dress shirt and a wedding ring fit snugly on your finger, he really can’t stop himself from imagining what you would look like with a swollen tummy, breasts spilling out of that same bra. 

“g’na give you my kids baby…” he’s rambling half out of his ass, his brain scrambled by pure need. “gonna make my girl a mommy. you’re gonna be a great mommy, aren't you?”

he’s brought up the topic before. it was never anything serious, just asking you what you would prefer and never really thinking of his own volition. you had always agreed with him wholeheartedly, and it would somehow lead to the two of you cooing over baby clothes and strollers but never anything more. 

nanami is fucking sick of it. he’s sick of fawning over the idea and not doing anything about it. sure, you’ve made love a couple of times, but it never held any true intent, focusing on the pure need to give each other pleasure. 

well, now, nanami needs more than pleasure. he needs to see you with that swollen tummy and those massive leaky tits, and there’s only one way to do that; fucking you within an inch of your life and cumming in your cunt until it finally takes. 

“kento–“ you seemingly haven’t gotten bored of it yet, despite having been at it for over two hours. your back still arches with every bump to your cervix, nails still raking down his back as his sweaty chest squashes your own. “this one’s gonna take, promise.”

“i can’t be sure of that,” he states matter-of-factly. “although your tracker says you’re ovulating, we can’t just trust that once or twice will be enough.” is he sure of this fact? no, but he is sure that you feel too damn good to stop, even though he’s already finished inside of you enough times to guarantee your pregnancy ten times over. 

you just look so beautiful beneath him. you wear the radiance of sex extremely well, eyes fogged over and mouth hanging open as your steamy pants echo in his ear. you’re borderline intoxicating, and that’s why nanami can’t stop, even though he knows you need him to before you pass out. 

“look at me, angel. i wanna see you.” you weakly turn your cheek away from the pillow and look up at him, lips stained a gorgeous red and swollen from his kisses. “you’re gonna be such a pretty momma.”

your eyelids flutter and your back arches weakly as you cum again for the final time, garbled moans of nanami’s name flooding from your throat. despite the longevity of your session, your cunt still manages to squeeze around him impossibly, and nanami groans deeply, arms sliding around your hips as you pulls you forward to meet his thrusts. 

“kentooo…”

“i know, baby, i know.” the sheets are soiled with your sweat and his, and the tight clampdown of your walls propels him to cum one final time, hips flush against your twitching clit as he pumps you full. 

you both stay like that for a beat, nanami folded over your twitching body before he finally pulls out slowly, and when he does, the sight he’s met with is so incredibly dirty that he can barely believe he was the one to reduce you to such a mess. “oh, angel…”

copious amounts of his release flood from your cunt, leaving a translucent pool on your sheets. whilst he absolutely loves the sight and wishes to brand it on the forefront of his brain, nanami’s goal is still clear as day. 

he leans down and kisses your overstimulated clit, fingers dancing around your twitchy hole and gathering up his release before pushing it back inside with a curl of his fingers that makes you want to scream. 

“can’t waste any, my dear, or it might not take, remember?” when he looks up at you from in between your trembling thighs, the look on his face is nothing short of depraved, blonde strands of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks stained red with excitement. 

“can’t wait to see my girl become a mommy.”

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[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters Make Food for You

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, kissing, making food, teasing

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: I already wrote this on my old blog but now is a good time to re-write it.

Jinx knows how to cook pretty well, surprisingly enough. Or maybe not so surprisingly given how she's always the one making things and experimenting. However that also means she might make some really weird meals.

It's something you'll have to deal with if you're with her and might have to develop a strong stomach. She already has it because she grew up in Zaun and ate a lot of different things. For you she wouldn't recommend some of them yet and she will try her best to make something that you'll like. And she won't get too offended if you don't eat her cooking right away.

"I made ya some breakfast, ta-da! It's a little sticky but don't worry, eat your fill and I'll clean up the mess later. Don't look at it like that, it might not look pretty but I promise ya it's so good. I could eat this every day. I hope I'll get to eat it together it with ya every day, sugar."

Vi doesn't know how to cook because she never had the opportunity to learn. The first few dishes are bad, like really bad, almost burn the toast and eggs type of bad but Vi she isn't the kind of person to give up. She'll keep trying until she gets it right.

There have been times where she did burn things and she won't let you eat it since it's not right. She wants you to have the best of the best, even if she didn't. Might get a little distracted when you're in the kitchen with her so she prefers to cook by herself even if you're there with her. Regardless of how many times she gets it wrong she at least wants to learn to cook your favorite.

"Yes, this is burned toast but this time it's not my fault, it's yours. Well you're the one who walked in here looking all cute and distracted me. One kiss is all it takes if it's from you, sweet stuff. Sit down and let me do this right and if you do you'll get something sweeter than this."

Caitlyn knows how to cook really well. She did grow up with people doing the cooking for her however she was curious and wanted to learn how to do it on her own. She's a very hand-on learner, now she can use some of her skills to make you happy.

She gets up really early anyways so she might as well make breakfast for the both of you. The first time she brings you breakfast in bed she thinks your reaction is cute, the way you stare at her, eyes wide and drooling over the food. For her it's not odd to have breakfast in bed. And if you stick with her you'll get used to her pampering you. Be sure to tell her how the food tastes.

"Good morning, darling, I brought you something. See, I didn't just brag about my cooking skills, this is me showing you I can cook. Showing off? Suppose I am a little bit, it's not my fault you didn't really think I would bring you breakfast in bed."

Maddie can cook some dishes but she can cook them well. Her skills aren't anything impressive but they don't need to be because she can get take out too. But she is more than happy to share what ever she makes with you.

She falls back on take out more often than she would like to admit. However not when she invites you over to her place, then she will put her best foot forward. A lot of that is because she wants to impress you hard, but it also gets her to work on her skills either way she wins. She keeps looking at you very intently while you take that first bite. Thankfully she doesn't seem to do a bad job if your smile is anything to go by.

"I'm not weird for watching you eat, it's called being smitten, gorgeous. Anything you do is interesting to me, you know that by now. This isn't empty flattery. I already got you to eat my cooking, I don't need to butter you up at this point."

Ekko isn't the best cook out there, he will be completely honest with you. While he does know the basic things you can't really expect anything fancy. If anything he focuses more on the dish being filling than tasty.

The thing about him cooking for the two of you is that he can only do it on his free time, which isn't a lot. Therefore he wants to make it a bonding activity. A cute date of sorts, mostly in the late evening when the rest of work is done. Sometimes he will try to surprise you but its hard when his living space isn't that big and everyone knows everything in the Firelights. The gesture counts.

"There wasn't much time so it's pretty simple, but at least it's your favorite, Firefly. No, I actually finished the new project, I had extra time to kill. Please, don't thank me! It seemed only right for me to make you something after you cheered me up this morning."

Vander knows how to cook really, really well. He kids to raise, and he was on his own for a very long time, he had to become a good cook. Plus he makes awesome drinks, being a good cook was a bonus skill for him.

He's always the first one to wake up and start the day in the Last Drop and he always makes breakfast for everyone. Not just breakfast but every meal, his kids need to eat a lot, there's always a little left over for later. Even if he feels a little sleepy himself he at least wants to put something on the table. It's the dad instincts in him. And husband instincts, hopefully.

"Don't ya even think about sneaking up on me right now, darlin'. I've got a pan full of sizzling hot oil in my hand, I don't want it all over us. Hugs are fine, I always love ya being close to me, but keep your hands to yourself. We both know ya get handsy in the morning."

Silco didn't know how to cook before he adopted Jinx, since then he's had to learn. It wasn't easy but now he does know a lot and he can impress the woman he's dating. Now when you stay over you can expect good for for your date, and good food when you wake up.

When the dating gets more serious he lets you help him cook, but until then he pretty much does it on his own. Jinx will go nowhere near the kitchen alone, not after that one explosion. He does have a list of recipes that he makes the most. And a few that he made up. Sometimes ingredients are hard to come by so he needs to improvise.

"Pass me the flour would you, love? This time I will follow the recipe, yes, the last time there was a bit too much sugar in there. I know you liked it but it's not the healthiest thing now is it? Fine, call me a worried dad, I know you think it's attractive."

Sevika isn't able too cook that well, she never was, she always liked others cooking for her though. However when you tease her about it she takes it as a challenge. And you know damn well that she doesn't back down from a challenge.

Curses a lot when she messes up, though you can bet that she's not gonna let food be the thing that beats her. When you walk into the kitchen it's a mess which will take a while to clean up. But at least she managed to make the dish this time and it's quite good. For her hard work you give her a very passionate kiss and that just makes her wanna work harder. That's the best reward she can ask for.

"One kiss for at that work, doll? I think I earned myself a little more than that, maybe you on the table instead of all this food. Yeah, I know it's gonna get cold, you're right. Can't let all this hard work go to waste, but when we're done we have to work all that food off."

Viktor doesn't have as much time to cook as he could if he worked a bit less. Not that his skills are award worthy but he can make a few things, at least in his opinion. Give his cooking a chance.

When he was a student in the academy he had to learn how to make quick meals and that is where most of his strength is. Just very simple dishes but he knows how to make them well. There are times when he himself forgets to eat so he makes sure he gets a good meal when he can. If you're part of that that's even better. Having you eat his cooking makes cooking more fun.

"If you think cooking this is so easy then you make it will you, beautiful? Ah so now you like it, I see how it is. I'm just kidding, I love making food for you when I can. But if you want to make it yourself please let me do a taste test first. I promise to be brutally honest, just like you are with me."

Jayce has absolutely no skills in the kitchen unless you need him to fix or build things in there. He knows this too and will admit it right away. Trust him he is much better in science than in cooking food.

That being said he will join you in the kitchen when you cook. He takes an interest in it because the way you cook makes his mouth water. When he learns about what your favorite food is he wants to lean how to cook it. However he does this in secret because he wants to surprise you. Sure enough he's able to get the biggest smile out of you when he presents you with your favorite meal.

"I learned it secretly, all for you, babe. Well I am quite good with my hands and I enjoy working, that was just another excuse to learn. Of course I don't have an ulterior motive for it! But if I did... and if it was kissing... would you kiss me for doing a good job?"

Mel is actually an amazing cook and knows a ton of recipes. Including your favorites of course. Do you really think she'd invite you over and offer you nothing to eat?

It's been a long time since she had to cook for anyone but herself but she's not bad at it at all. She has high standards when it comes to good food specifically because she holds herself to high standards. It doesn't matter how simple or complicated the meal is. When she invites you over and offers to make you food you better believe you're eating good that night. Not strictly food either.

"Beloved, slow down a little, the food isn't going anywhere and neither am I. We have all night. Every time I make food I do so because I want to enjoy a good meal, and you should too. And please be careful, I don't want you to choke, on the food that is."

[aquaaquila]

Ok, I may become blocked or hated for saying this, I'm really sorry I bother you like this, and I will try to be as respectful as possible, but I have to speak up because this behavior contributes to TOH's fan base toxicity as a whole, even if it comes from a place of genuine frustration and exhaustion caused by it already existing.

First things first, I want to establish that there's nothing wrong with liking other ships that are non-canon or ships that are canon. We can all co-exist peacefully, but we won't if we're going to assume that shippers of other ships by default must be sexist or delusional or just the worst. Yes, I know you had an encounter with a terrible Lunter shipper and I'm sorry that you had it as I wouldn't wish it upon anyone, but trust me, they aren't the norm. Unfortunately, you just have the worst luck imaginable when it comes to TOH's fan base (my condolences), but it goes to show just how as a whole TOH isn't a healthy collective and it could never be as this fan base is much larger than people internalise (you can't have so many people invested with this show for the fan base to be supposedly chill, like fat chance).

Second of all: multishippers exist. Some people like both Lumity and Lunter and there are Lunter shippers who like Amity, me included as Amity's one of my favorite characters. It's disingenuous to assume Lunter shippers are by default lesphobic or just hate Amity. Heck, the reason Lunter shippers dislike Amity is less about her and more about the fan base's attitude. Imagine being constantly harassed that you don't ship mainstream ship by being specifically reminded that a specific lesbian exists, even if this isn't about her. You would be tired of her too because "good for her to be a happy lesbian", but Lumity may still not satisfy people as it's basically all fluff at this point. People are so overjoyed with them being together they hardly explore now possibilities of them going through something. At most, they will use green-haired Amity but people still will be waiting for green to turn into periwinkle, and fluff will just overwhelm anything else. And don't get me started on how both of them also end up being flanderised and dirty because of each other (as it goes both ways). People can just not vibe with that or be indifferent, but because people get harassed for daring to not love Lumity or Amity, they just end up hating it more. The issue is not Amity, the issue is Amity being the only option allowed. And gatekeeping people from enjoying other ships isn't ok. It really makes you feel like people erase aspects of their characters just to conform to a specific image of them and how can you accept something like this when the show is all about embracing weirdness and differences and not conforming to anything. Loving Lumity is a norm, not a break with convention.

Third of all: I'm sorry but Lunter is either trading white girls for white boys or one woman of color for another woman of color. I don't see where racism comes into this other than an obsession with white people in general, which is its own can of worms.

Fourth: I'm sorry but considering Evelyn and Willow as literal parallels because they both fell in love with "Caleb" is disingenuous to both of them. No one would draw this connection if Willow wasn't romantically involved with Hunter. And while I don't disagree that Huntlow is goated and canon/semi-canon, their relationship is still left to interpretation and they are only implied to have a thing but not confirmed to be downright an item. We don't know 100% if they're dating, playing the long game, engaged, or amicably broken up. And that's great as both of their characters work in their own right and they don't need an established relationship to be fulfilled. And Willow being dressed up AS A STEREOTYPE just doesn't help the case. Luz was dressed as an actual witch character (even if said witch is also not how real witches operate either, but it's still closer in meaning than Willow being dressed up as a devil as if Evelyn indeed charmed Caleb and he didn't fall in love with her like a normal person or that Evelyn was ever in the wrong to like a boy).

And as for Evelyn: please stop just summarising her up to Caleb's love interest for Titan's sake. We may not know much about her but we know that they did start as friends according to Dana's livestream and later on they would become parents to their child (if Belos didn't ruin it). Not only it's different from Huntlow as Huntlow didn't establish where they stand in their relationship at the end while it's clear that Evelyn and Caleb fucked, but Evelyn and Caleb had their love story that did take time (Huntlow at most is just getting started but for all, we know they could still break up in the future cause why not, it's their choice, first love isn't necessarily the only option). My point is that Evelyn's life didn't revolve around her love for Caleb alone so saying Willow and Evelyn are parallels because of them being lovers of our favorite white boys pretty much erases both of their characters. Evelyn's worth as a character doesn't end on getting pregnant, but also being a catalyst of all the events within the story, along with being a Clawthorne ancestor and original wild witch living between worlds.

Fifth point: this is where I bring Luz into this as the parallel. People draw the connection because aside from having no romantic feelings towards Caleb, Luz is also a wild witch (wild as in both wild personality-wise, wild as in everything Belos stands against (and side note: Willow being someone Belos wouldn't approve of is not a high bar because Belos would literally not approve of ANYBODY within our cast, so Willow's not special in this regard, heck Belos doesn't even know Willow all that much), wild as in using the very magic that came from the titan and wild as in a wild card that changed the course of history) that traveled between realms and came from another world (let's be real, Hunter is a witch from boiling isles, not a human from the earth, so Luz by a longshot matches the description better than Willow who's just a regular witch born in the demon realm to Hunter that frankly wouldn't be hurt or restrained by the coven system as she only uses plant magic from her bile sac and didn't go against the empire until season 1 finale and even then she didn't do it as a wild witch but child witch railing witches belonging to the coven to release Eda). Both of them also have loose association with Clawthornes as Luz isn't legally one but just a surrogate daughter of one and Evelyn's surname isn't known, the clan could've been established much later down the line or Evelyn's descendant married into Clawthorne's family, making Evelyn just an ancestor at best and distant at worst. I also already mentioned how both of them are catalysts to both the rise in power and the death of Philip while having massive guilt over it (Philip died on the inside as he killed Caleb, crossing the moral event horizon along with setting on the journey of destroying the entire realm. Plus I cannot imagine the survivor's guilt Evelyn must have felt over Caleb dying and orphaning their unborn child - which parallels Luz thinking she doomed her palisman by carving into an egg thinking it could never hatch because of how "she keeps on messing up constantly"). And of course, it's clear as day that Luz kickstarts Hunter's redemption arc by introducing Flapjack (and Evelyn did the same with Caleb, meanwhile Willow's only interaction with Flapjack is her giving him flowers on his grave), making him question what he knows (a witch hunter falling in love with a witch - existential crisis is warranted, along with tones of guilt) and making him "betray" Belos (Hunter disobeyed Belos in HP and then questioned him directly in HM; Caleb "left Philip behind"). Like I'm sorry but Willow did nothing but wait till Hunter gets his shit together by himself (the only thing she actively tried to change his mind about is not judging a book by its cover but that's where it ends; she didn't call him out on doing the utterly terrible thing of kidnapping them to his cult nor anything else he did that wasn't morally correct) while Luz openly defied him and his worldview for him to come to his senses ("You're really going to take all those Palismen? I know what he does with them. I thought you were a good guy, but that was just wishful thinking" Hunter proceeds to protect Luz from Kikimora, reveals his name, and lets Luz go with the Palismen just like that). Trivia: Evelyn also has brunette hair that is wild and tied back, Luz used to have them too early on but shorter, and currently they're curly.

That's where parallel comes from. That's what Evelyn us to Caleb: catalyst of change. Yes, Luz isn't in love with Hunter, but we could headcanon away that Caleb would be merely an uncle of Evelyn's kid, who's going to stop us from doing that? We can even make it that Philip felt replaced by Evelyn by her being Caleb's "new sibling" just for the fun of interpretation of the character. Since when Tumblr is against being delusional and mentally unwell towards our blorbos?

But even if we won't do that (as no one forces us) then we must remember that parallel characters are not 2 characters being one and the same. Evelyn and Luz would still be separate entities and there's no crime in that. Luz not falling in love with a blond white boy is fine because that isn't and shouldn't be Evelyn's defining trait. Evelyn's defining trait is kickstarting change in Caleb which kickstarts Belos's vendetta against Witches. Romance was a bonus.

My sixth point: Last but not least let's finally talk about the elephant in the room that is parallel between Philip and Luz. All interpretations are valid, if you're choosing to interpret them like that, it's your valid choice and opinion. But saying that it's THE thing that happened within the show is just not correct and let me explain why before you discard me altogether if you haven't already.

Luz projected into Belos and Belos took advantage of that.

There, I said it, that's the ultimate truth of the show, you literally cannot deny this isn't how it happened.

Luz pretty much only had Philip as a point of reference to someone who shared her experience of a human in the demon realm. However, if she got to know Caleb instead of Philip, he would be the one Luz would compare herself to him. Ironically, she would be more correct as both of them are humans who run away to the demon realm after being possibly rejected by the closed-minded society and leaving behind unpleasant reality and their only living family member who they didn't realize how much they've hurt for choosing to leave them for the world that made them happy and helped them flourish (compare starved Caleb in Belos's vision to Caleb living in the demon realm and introducing Philip to Evelyn before he decided to kill them,). But unfortunately, Luz doesn't know Caleb as well as the audience does, all she knows is that he used to be a witch hunter who fell in love with Evelyn but that's about it. She doesn't know that he even has a connection to the portal door or Clawthorne ancestry.

So with no one else as a point of reference, Luz is going to compare herself to Philip Whattabitch. She assumed that she must be as bad as Belos because she thought he sincerely thought he was doing everything for a genuine reason and not because he was just a douchebag. Sure Philips's motivations are complex, but they don't come from a good place in the slightest. The Titan himself literally tells Luz if she's drunk on Eda's apple blood for thinking she's just as bad as Belos.

Like seriously, Luz stumbled on the Isles by pure accident. It was never for a reason or a higher purpose. She was never "destined" to go there, but it was her actions and decisions that led her there and changed the world around her. She didn't know the reason why she landed on Boiling Isles because there never was any reason or a prophecy to justify her presence there as it was never needed. This is not the same as Belos who willingly went to the demon realm to both find his brother and destroy all the witches. Luz very quickly grew out of "I'm the chosen one" whereas Belos made himself a false messiah. Even the Titan said that she's not chosen to be given Titan powers but for her actions and kindness she's given them to support her but it was her decision to accept them. Not to mention that she respected the Isles, the inhabitants, and the magic that was part of this world, while all Belos ever did was destroy, murder, and steal it all for himself.

The show doesn't tell you Luz and Belos are foils, the show tells you that Luz VIEWS herself as Belos's foil, but she's nothing like him. Even their respective hero complexes are different. Luz seeks self-improvement to find a community for herself to belong to. But Belos? Belos wants to get praise and glory for slaughtering "the evil". Those two are not the same because Belos doesn't care about anyone but himself while Luz is all about what other people feel and think about her and she sacrifices herself multiple times for other people's sake. Belos would never do that. Belos wasn't even happy that Caleb was actually well and healthy in the demon realm, in contrast to the vision where Caleb is starved and sleep-deprived because he had to look after him ever since they were little orphans, sacrificing his own well-being. But Luz would rather give up her own hopes and dreams just to not see anyone she cares about ever put themselves on the line like that.

At most, I can agree that Luz represents what's best in humanity and Belos represents the worst, but that is still an incredibly broad concept that just doesn't contribute much to the actual story of TOH which isn't about humanity as a whole.

And I'm sorry but you just said yourself that this parallel is just used to woobify Belos and villanise Luz, something Lunter shippers don't do and something that certainly is not right. Because even if you made Belos a hero and Luz a villain, they'd still be nothing like one another.

Even Luz's dynamic with Hunter is nothing like Caleb and Philip. Caleb and Philip grew up together and they were the entire world to one another growing up. But Luz and Hunter didn't even have each other when growing up, they didn't get to know them until their teens, and the first time they meet they were at each other's throats which is different from Wittebane brothers having a loving relationship early on only for Belos to stab Caleb. Arguably, even if liked the idea of Luz and Hunter being siblings, I'd be disappointed with how much the show didn't do anything with them and it's always the fan base that pulls heavy weight on them being sibling-like. Like Hunting Palismen is them not even being friends let alone family and it's still supposed to be the pinnacle of their sibling rivalry, even though they were actual enemies and Luz is just as petty and immature here as she is with Kikimora? Luz supposedly didn't go after Hunter after he ran away from the Owl House whereas she did chase King when he learned the truth in Echoes of the Past? Supposedly we never had an on-screen scene where Hunter officially becomes a Noceda? I'm sorry but I will take a "You're family" from Afro-Latina with a grain of salt when it comes to either viewing me as a friend or a sibling when both could apply, especially followed by Willow's "You're one of us now" and preceded with Camila's "I'm a mother of six". Are Hunter and Willow siblings too now? Hunter didn't even get to be in a photo of the Noceda family in the epilogue, what kind of brother would that be?

Camila is more of a Caleb to Luz considering it was her who raised Luz through trials and tribulations, sacrificing her own quirks and encouraging Luz to do the same just to conform to the norms of Gravesfield. But quite frankly it's Luz who ultimately runs away because of a certain Clawthorne Witch leaving Camila behind. Hunter literally has no such story with Luz, unless you count him running away in HM, only to return to COTH a week later and then finally live under Nocedas' roof.

Even when Luz didn't like Hunter's guts, she would never kill him. And despite being dressed up as Belos in the nightmare sequence, there's never a parallel between Philip and Caleb, because truly this isn't their relationship. And while we're at it, the whole nightmare sequence is once again a play on Luz's insecurities and doubts, but none of them are the truth. None of Luz's friends blame her for what happened, none of Belos's crimes are her crimes, and Luz would never willingly destroy the Boiling Isles because she doesn't destroy the things or people she hates. Even Belos was not finished off by Luz but by boiling rain and her family.

FINAL SUMMARY: listen, I understand that shippers can be obnoxious and TOH's fan base has a serious issue of being delusional, but quite frankly a minority of people is not the problem, the problem is the majority usually vibing with the takes of the minority, but Lunter shippers who are ultimately a minority as they are outnumbered by Lumity shippers along with also having a bad rep would not have any of their takes taken seriously thus they would not be the actual problem with the fan base. Even if you have your own interpretations and headcanons, other people are entitled to have their own and the real issue comes from not accepting that, so if you really want to do the right thing then I just ask to not villainize a part of the fan base that was villanized enough already for neither vibing with your headcanons nor admitting they're true to the text when even the text itself doesn't acknowledge it whatsoever and it's purely a choice of fans to interpret it as such.

What makes the Lunter people so insane is that LUZ ISNT EVEN ATTRACTED TO HUNTER.

Dana is not unwilling to show Luz be attracted to other people. She showed Luz at Emira, Edric, and the shirtless ripped tan puppet. 3 people besides Amity that Luz has shown attraction to , you know who is not on that list of 3 people HUNTER!

The ONLY reasons people ship Hunter and Luz is because they have an irrational hatred of Amity, are SUPER homophobic, or are trying to make an Evelyn and Caleb connection and are RACIST.

Two out the three characters she was into before Amity were guys to, so she liked an equal number of guy and girl characters. But somehow it's "biased" that she ends up with one of the girls.

(Although there was some guy DeviantArt who made a TON of ship art of Luz and Edric. Because they did want to ship Luz with Amity and Edric was the only (white) guy at the time. They were ALL OVER Google images including art of Amity crying while Luz chooses a guy over her)

Also people who hate Amity but love Hunter are baffling to me, it's giving sexism. Like they're the exact same type of character, they just have different types of dynamics with Luz (and they BOTH tried to hurt Luz at first before anyone tries using that excuse)

But the "Hunter and Luz are a parallel to Caleb and Evelyn" has got to be the epitome of the fandom making shit up. The show made it obviously clear that Luz and Hunter are meant to parallel Belos and Caleb.

They LITERALLY showed Luz dressed as Belos. And the fans LOVE bringing up that parallel to villianize Luz or woobify Belos. But suddenly say she's actually Evelyn to ship her with Hunter?

Willow is obviously the Evelyn parallel. The WITCH girl he fell in love with that Belos wouldn't approve of. She LITERALLY dressed up as a evil version of a witch.

[i2sunric]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 (s.jy)

PAIRING: alpha!jake x omega!reader (f)

SUMMARY: being an omega was already hard, but being an omega with an alpha roommate was worse. especially during your heats. you’d lock yourself in your room, trying to ignore his strong scent and his presence, but jake has had enough of hearing pained wails. he’ll help you, even if he wasn’t your alpha (yet).

WARNINGS: omegaverse, roommates au, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), breeding kink, doggystyle, dirty talking, riding, cream pie, fingering, pussy eating, knotting (?) , heat and mentions of ruts, pet names (baby, good girl), mentions of pups (this feels strange idk), reader is a virgin, overstimulation, tits sucking (😋), mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 28th August 2024

WC: 4.2k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emisloves @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 (oneshot) @nyfwyeonjun @high-and-low-all-the-way @victorylr @jaeyunwon @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nshmrarki @hchoes @entenen @heeseungshim @seungminsapuppy @starfallia @ratchet-sebooty @jakeyismine @laurradoesloveu @denleave1088 @weebgeek22 @victoriasimm @strxwbloody @love4hee @strayy-kidz @iheartshopping @isa942572 @hazycottagedreams @jky001 @haelahoops @chososloverfr @mitmit01 @icepriincehoon @kaykay11sworld @riribelle @coraldonutmagazine @seuomo @sn03 @hoonwonsoul @pinksweetlittlepiano @jiminie-08 @leiclerc BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED (adding the rest in the comments cause i can’t tag more than 50 ppl)

a/n: why do i always end my jake fics with a cliffhanger? it’s a mistery to me as well. i don’t really like how it turned out but i sincerely hope y’all do. idk much abt omegaverse and i searched on google most of the information, if it ain’t accurate let’s just say it’s caseyverse and call it a day. please REBLOG & COMMENT bcs only likes get me shadowbanned. also, lmk your thoughts on this fic 🫶🫶

You were prepared.

You had your favourite blankets, all your plushies, your phone and your charger.

You had even bought a mini fridge to keep enough food so that you would resist for at least three days.

Your heat was coming, you could feel it in your bones, which was the main reason as to why you were locked in your bedroom.

Taking the pill to stop the heat from coming was a good idea, especially since you didn’t have an alpha of your own, but the doctor refused to prescribe them, saying that they would really damage your health.

Because suffering for two to three days straight wasn’t.

Your skin was hot, too hot, sweat started gathering on your forehead, and sticking you to the sheets.

You laid on your bed, trying your best to even your breaths and willing your mind not to slip away.

You hated being an omega and going into heat, especially in summer. The weather affected it, making the pain unbearable.

As you thought about it, a sharp pain like a sting hit your lower stomach, you could feel your panties wetting with arousal.

A small yelp left your lips, your hips slowly bucking in the air to soothe the ache between your legs.

It was humiliating, the way your mind succumbed to the primal urge to mating, to being bred.

Suddenly, a soft knock came from the other side of the door and you scrunched your nose.

Jake, with his strong hormones scent, minty but musky at the same time. You normally could live with it, he was good at hiding his scent so as not to bother you and you hid your pheromones well too.

But now, it almost suffocated you and he wasn’t even in the room with you “Y/N… can I come in?”

You scoffed, mood already ruined by your denied pleasure. It’s not like you didn’t have toys, they were in your drawer, but most definitely you weren’t to use them while Jake was in the house.

You just needed to keep control of your mind.

“Jake, no.” You hissed, even if he already knew the answer “Not for the rest three working days.”

Jake pressed his forehead on the door. He also went into rut, but he would just find a willing omega or a beta to bury himself and then forget about them.

You weren’t like him, you didn’t want someone you didn’t know to be inside you, to have such a power over your body.

“Three days?” He sighed “Fuck, your scent is so strong.”

And it was true, during your heat you released more pheromones so as to attract other alphas. Fact was, it also drove your roommate insane.

“I can smell how bad your heat is, it drives me crazy.” Jake murmured, making you shiver.

You could hear his breathless voice, the thick Australian accent rolling off his tongue was such a turn on.

“Don’t—“ You groaned when another wave of pain hit your lower stomach, “Don’t talk like that.” You pleaded.

"I can't help it." He said, "Your scent is so strong, you smell so good…”

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw.

“Please, Jake.” You clung the sheet under you, needing an anchor against your lust “Leave, go outside.”

“I can’t.” He was quick to say “You keep whimpering and I don’t want to hear you in pain.” He stated.

“I’m g-grand.” You replied, “I can manage.”

He gripped the door handle, his muscles tensing up. “I want to help you." He said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I want to take care of you and make you feel good, please, just let me in."

“Don’t complicate things,” You breathed out, your hips moving around the bed “We set boundaries, remember?”

“Boundaries don’t expect me to sit back, knowing you’re suffering.” He bit back, voice strained.

“Still,” You commented.

Jake and you had a nice relationship, you weren’t just roommates but also friends. You loved to hang out with him and you didn’t want him to see you like this. Again, it was too embarrassing, you weren’t sure you’d be able to face him afterwards.

He tried to pull the handle but obviously, you had locked the door “Y/N, open up.”

You turned around on the bed, your hips humping against the mattress, your face flush on the sheets “No.” You said, trying to sound convincing.

“I just want to help you, don’t overthink it.” Jake sighed, pulling the door knob again. “I said no, Jake. Go away.”

At another groan that escaped your lips, Jake couldn’t take it anymore and kicked the door a couple of times until it swung open.

You widened your eyes “What—“ Before you could talk, he pounced on you, his body holding yours down.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that resembled vanilla and peaches, making his head spin “You smell so good, baby.”

You breathed out, trying your hardest not to think about his body so close to you, his skin on yours, “Jake please, get out.”

He planted hot kisses down your collarbone, his hands roaming over your body. “Let me take care of you, I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

“No..” You murmured but as his hands yanked off your shorts and panties, you could feel your wetness running down your thighs in the same way your consciousness crumbled.

You wanted it, you wanted Jake to take you, to make you his and calm the burning desire that consumed you.

He cursed under his breath, two fingers gathered your arousal and he put them in his mouth, humming “You even taste delicious baby, can you be anymore perfect?”

“Jake..” You murmured, “Make it better.” Your voice was strained and whiny, making Jake’s pants tighter.

“Say no more.” He said and without any warning he pushed two fingers deep inside of you.

How they even fit was foreign to you, given that nobody had ever dared to touch you there, but you didn’t really care at that moment. It felt good, so good.

You moaned out, gripping the sheets under you, your mind already a puddle of pleasure.

His digits were skilled, brushing and thrusting in every spot that got your eyes rolling.

“So wet for me baby, mh?” Jake groaned, the squelching sound filling the room, imprinting in his ears.

He raised your shirt with his free hand and started groping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his palms.

He towered you, his presence dominant behind you, like a shadow swallowing you whole.

Whimpers left your lips, but this time they were a reaction from pleasure, not pain.

“Where is it?” He asked, biting his tongue as he desperately searched for something inside you.

When he felt you moan loudly, he smirked “Got it.” And he started thrusting his fingers in and out, reaching that spot again.

You felt as if your body was being burned, you needed him to continue it, to take you to the edge.

And Jake never stopped, even if his wrist hurt and his fingers grew sore. He lived to hear your cries of pleasure, to be the one making you squirm.

“Close?” He asked when he felt your walls clench around his digits and you nodded.

“Ugh.” You moaned, your eyes squeezing and with one last thrust of his fingers, you fell apart.

Your body trembled, your legs shook. Jake gently helped you ride out of your high before pulling out his fingers and licking them clean.

“If only you could taste yourself, baby.” He took your chin in his hand and raised your body so you were kneeling, back flush to his chest “So sweet, I can’t get enough.”

You felt his bulge brush against your back and it was the moment where your mind went completely black.

Lust winning over reason.

You breathed out “Jake,” Letting one of your hands wander down his chest until it reached his sweats, feeling his clothed hard-on “Put it inside me.”

Jake cursed, his body trembling “You want it inside?” He questioned, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear “Want me to fuck you, mh?”

You nodded blissfully, trying to pull his pants down.

Jake chuckled and let you fall on the mattress, quickly working both his shirt and pants off.

You peeked at him over your shoulder and gasped. His cock was huge, so long and thick it made your mouth water.

Any worry that it might not fit in your virgin pussy was clouded by lust, so you said “Hurry.” Raising your backside in the air.

“Patience.” He ordered, gently pulling your shorts and panties down your ankles, as well as removing your shirt.

He stroked his hard shaft, already leaking precum, he kneeled closer to you and you held onto the headboard.

Jake gripped your backside, squeezing your hips as he teased your entrance with the head of his cock.

You gasped, the feeling so good “I’m going in now.” He had the decency to warn that time and slowly, pushed inside you.

“Ngh.” You moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he put all of his length in you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed.

Jake sighed, his head thrown back. Your walls hugged him, “You’re so tight.” He grunted.

He was going slow so he wouldn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t enough for you. You needed more, you needed to feel all of him in all of you.

“Faster,” You pleaded, arching your back “Faster, fuck me fast.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” He murmured, his pace still too slow

“You hurt me if you don’t start moving fast.” You groaned, reaching a hand behind you to pull his hips nearer you.

Jake shook his head, amazed “Anything you want.” Like that, he moved faster.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room as well as the squelching ones from your wetness.

“M’gonna fuck you so good,” He said, voice so husky. He took your chin in his grasp and pulled you up, tilting it to the side so he could kiss you.

Finally, he got a taste of your lips, his tongue licking yours, giving delicious strokes.

You moaned in his mouth and he rewarded you with a rather deep thrust that hit your cervix.

He smirked, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, so he kept hitting it repetitively, alternating slow to fast thrusts.

“That’s it,” He snuck a hand on your neck and gently squeezed “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

You couldn’t almost see straight from the amount of pleasure you were given.

He licked your ear, then pressed wet kisses down your jaw, occasionally sucking.

Your pussy clenched around him, signalling that you were close to your orgasm.

“Jake,” You breathed out “Jake, m’so close.”

His free hand went to your clit, gently rubbing circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Ugh!” You moaned, the knot in your stomach snapping, making you cream all over his cock.

Jake gave you slow thrusts, helping you ride out of your orgasms and waiting for you to come down off your high.

Your eyes flickered open as you flopped on the mattress, your body growing tired.

Jake pulled out, making you frown “W-what about you?” You asked quietly.

“I’d love to continue baby, but it’s easier to get pregnant during your heat and I have no condoms.” He explained, pressing a featherlight kiss on your shoulder.

How he wasn’t yet a slave of lust, you didn’t know.

“But..” You wanted to argue but your reason was gone, even the lust, replaced by an immense tiredness.

Jake helped you lay down properly, caressing your sweaty forehead “I don’t want to take advantage of you, if we keep going I won’t be able to pull away.”

He leaned down to press another kiss on your lips “Rest, I’ll clean you up and stay with you, ok?”

You only managed to softly hum as your eyelids grew heavy and his voice grew faint until the world was just black.

⪩⪨.

When you felt the second wave hit, you had half expected to wake up in a pool of sweat and slick.

Definitely, not with Jake’s nose rubbing your clothed pussy, inhaling your sweet smell.

“Jake?” You asked, your voice laced with sleep.

He raised his face and looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot. You couldn’t control your pheromones while you slept and they drove Jake insane, making him lust drunk.

“I’m sorry,” He murmured, giving your pussy another smell “Really need to taste you.”

You still felt groggy from your deep slumber when he slipped your panties down and smelled them again.

“Christ,” Jake groaned, slipping them into his sweatpants’ pocket.

He placed gentle kisses on your thighs and raised your legs, letting them rest on your shoulders.

Jake’s breath fanned against your pussy, making you let out a whiney exhale. He smirked and licked a long stripe out of your wet folds.

He moaned, really moaned, at the taste of you and you couldn’t help but glance down at the man between your legs.

He was drop dead gorgeous, with two deep brown eyes, messy hair and the expression of a starved man ready to dig in for his long awaited meal.

Jake gave you kitten licks again, alternating soft kisses to sucking.

You moaned, throwing your head back. You had always fantasised about how good getting eaten out felt like, but Jake must’ve been the masters of it because lord, if he made you see stars.

Your pussy was dripping with arousal, your juices coating his face, running down his chin.

But he didn’t mind, instead, he tried to gather them all on his tongue so as not to miss anything.

He buried his face between your legs, your feet locking behind his neck.

“You need to keep them open, baby.” He murmured on your clit, “Alright? Can you do that for me?”

You let out a broken hum in response, your mind just filled with unholy thoughts of him. You just barely opened your legs for him.

You needed him to make you cum, over and over again, to teach you everything he knew, in all the positions he liked.

“Good girl,” Jake whispered before downing again, his tongue lapping on your bundle of nerves.

He thrust one finger inside of you, gently curling it to reach your sweet spot, making you a moaning mess.

“Ugh..” You yelped, your back arching, “Pussy so good.” He said between licks “Could do this all day.”

You groaned and put one hand on his head, fingers grasping his locks “Less talking, more licking.”

Jake loved how desperate you were, so different from your usually collected and shy attitude.

You were clouded by lust and all of that was for him, he was really the luckiest alpha on earth.

Your hips bucked against his tongue, you were so close to your orgasm you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Jake...” You breathed out, and he understood what you meant. He removed his finger from you and put his tongue instead, the sensation so new and wet.

His nose brushed against your clit and he patted your waist, signalling that you could start moving.

Both your hands grabbed his hair, riding his tongue, your hips bucking fast against him.

He moaned, sending vibrations all through your body. You rolled your eyes back, “M’so-so close.” You murmured “M’gonna cum.”

If Jake’s mouth was free, he would’ve cooed at how cute you looked, so lost in pleasure you couldn’t even speak properly.

With a few more strong bucks, your legs shook around his neck, your orgasm reaching you like a tidal wave.

You pulled his hair so hard it hurt, but Jake didn’t mind. No, he actually liked it.

“Ride it out,” He murmured “Fuck my tongue, baby.”

You slowly calmed down, your legs fell down on Jake’s sides, your chest heaving slowlier.

You peeled your eyes open, glancing down at Jake.

He had been humping the mattress, as if eating you out was a source of pleasure for him as well.

You could see that the precum leaking from his bulge had stained his sweats, his chest already bare.

“Can I ride you?” You asked such a filthy question so innocently that Jake could’ve cum on spot.

“You want to ride me, baby?” You nodded shamelessly while he chuckled, patting your leg “Get up.”

You followed his lead, getting up so he could take your position. He leaned his back against your bed’s headboard and held out his hands to you.

You took them in yours as he helped you sit on his lap.

Jake’s hands settled on your waist while yours on his shoulders, your hips slowly rocking on his.

He groaned, his head thrown back against the headboard. “You feel so good.” His smirk made you want to do many unspeakable things to him.

Swiftly, he removed your shirt and started touching your warm breasts, teasing your nipples.

He tilted you towards him and latched his mouth on one, kissing and swirling his tongue around your nipple while kneading the other.

You moaned, rewarding him with a rather deep grind, feeling his whole length underneath you.

Suddenly, a thought crossed your blackened mind “Breed me.”

Jake stopped his work on your breasts and looked up at you, his brows furrowing.

Something in his brain was trying to warn him, but he was far too deep to even care “Yeah? You want me to breed you?”

He circled your waist with one arm and pulled you up, pulling his sweats and boxers down and kicking them off his ankles.

“I want your pups.” You murmured, your voice frail and quiet but full of desire.

Jake groaned, his cock twitching “Fuck, baby.”

“I’ll give you my pups,” You pumped his shaft with your hand and held it to your entrance as he slowly lowered you on him “I’ll fill you with my pups.”

The thought of your belly all swollen, your body changing to carry his pups wasn’t such a bad idea… was it?

You wanted everyone to know he was the alpha who took care of you, you wanted— no, you needed him to mate you.

He moved you up and down, slowly at first, so you could get used to him, but then he snapped his hips up into yours forcefully.

He debated whether to let you ride him or to just take the lead and fuck into you, but his control had crumbled long time ago and all he needed was to breed you.

The desire was consuming the both of you, leaving the room only with moans, grunts, heavy breaths and filthy sounds.

You sincerely hoped your neighbours weren’t to hear your late night activities.

You wrapped your arms around Jake’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You left kitten kisses and sucked on his skin, making his head spin.

You fit so well in his arms and he fit so well inside of you.

“Pussy was made for me,” He grunted, his pace picking up “Mh, Were you made for me, baby? Aren’t you my omega?”

You nodded, your walls sucking him in, squeezing around him “I’m yours,” You cried out “I’m yours, all of me.”

Jake’s eyes lit up “Yeah?” He chuckled, placing one hand on your lower stomach. He could feel the shadow of his bulge under his palms.

“Do you feel it, baby? I’m here.” You felt him press down, earning a moan from you.

You looked down to where his hand was and almost came on spot “So— S’deep.” You threw your head back.

He circled your hips, making your clit brush against his pubic hair.

“You like it deep?” He asked, his voice low, his accent thicker when he was lost in lust. “You like it when I’m so deep you can feel me everywhere?”

You nodded mindlessly, your eyes squeezing as you felt your second orgasm approach “Like it!” You exclaimed “Like it so much, Jake, please.”

Jake groaned in answer and goped your ass, lifting you up so he could fuck into you.

His hips moved fast, his balls smacking on your skin. You grasped his shoulders and bit down on his neck, the pleasure he was giving you was overwhelming all your senses.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close.” He murmured, his grip on you so tight it left red marks.

“Jake, oh lord—” You cried out, feeling your orgasm approach “Cum around my cock.” He whispered, his lips so close to your ear it sent shivers in your body.

“Mh— Ah.” You moaned as your euphoria reached you, your legs trembling and body squirming. If it wasn’t for Jake’s iron grip, you would’ve fallen out of your small bed.

But he didn’t care that you needed to calm down, not really, because his hips continued to snap against yours.

His cock was in so deep he hit your cervix with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure all around your body.

Your ears rang from your powerful orgasm, your breath laboured. Overstimulation made your body tremble. But still, you didn’t feel complete.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whisper in his ear, your arms clinging to him for dear life. “Please Jakey, I need you to breed me.”

That was all it took. Jake’s movements altered, his cock twitching inside of you as his balls emptied.

You felt his hot seed filling you up, but soon it was followed by a sharp pain.

“Ugh!” You groaned, tears filling your eyes “J-jake…”

He cursed under his breath, his orgasm still washing over him. It had never happened that he came so much like that time, liquid spurring inside of you.

“Shit baby, I’m sorry,” He breathed out “I may have knotted you.”

“What?!” You widened your eyes, back to your normal self. Your worried and overthinker self.

You tried to move away from him but the sharp pain came back.

“Shh, don’t move.” Jake instructed “It’ll hurt more if I pull out now,”

“It hurts either way!” You groaned, clinging on him like an anchor.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pressed featherlight kisses on your neck “The first time always hurts, but I swear it gets better.”

“I’m dying here.” You whimpered, but Jake’s touch was soothing and so were his words and a few minutes later, the pain stopped.

Slowly, he pulled out of you and kissed your temples “You okay?”

You nodded, now that there was nothing tied up inside of you, you felt refreshed. Happier. You didn’t even feel any discomfort caused from the heat.

Jake smiled softly and caressed your cheek, he leaned in to whisper “Knotting helps with your heat pain.”

“But it hurts like a bitch.” You frowned, watching as he carefully placed you down on the bed and cleaned you up with a tissue.

Jake chuckled, “I told you, it gets better.”

⪩⪨.

And it did, Jake was no liar.

The morning after he was kind enough to drive you to the doctor who gave you a prescription to take birth control. He said it would be better than fully stopping your heat.

He also reassured that the percentage to get pregnant was high after a knot (nagging at Jake for losing control), but as long as you took the pill within twenty-four hours, it would slow or block the process completely.

You hoped for the latter.

Obviously, he highly recommended to always use protections and to avoid knotting… but, you used a condom just a couple of times, because your heat wouldn’t get better unless Jake fucked you raw and filled you wih his seed.

In fact, he took you in the shower, on the couch and even in the kitchen. Any time was a good time to eat you out and stuff you full.

The only place left ‘holy’ was his room, but he said it’d be filthy once his rut started. Which, by the way, you agreed to help him through.

Jake even skipped his lectures to stay at home with you and provide you whatever you needed. Not like he attended much on a daily basis.

Everything went smoothly, he was so caring towards you, always looking after you when you passed out from the intense sex, even cooking for you (even if he burnt the pan and you two had to order out) and giving you nice massages until your heat completely stopped.

However, it was around a month later, when you came out of the bathroom with teary eyes and a positive pregnancy test in hand that you and Jake realised you had taken it too far.

[simpjaes]

BOOK SMART? P*SSY SMART. — P.JS

The one where Jay basically lives in the university library and you live in any and every party you can find on campus. Unfortunately, your grades are suffering over it and you need help. You’re quite lucky though because Jay is quite helpful. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 10k

PAIRING― inexperienced loser jay x afab reader

CONTENT―  Jay wears glasses even tho the banner says otherwise lol, he’s also a loser ass dweeb in this, open minded and playful reader, college au, jay just rly wants to get in that but doesn't know how to

NOTE― this is a revamp, surprise surprise, nobody is shocked. was originally written for mark lee over on my other blog @/ncteez but i need jay like i need air so….cackling at the title tho, my brain is malfunctioning pls forgive me

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: MONSTER COCK AGENDA. Jay is a pervert and smells ur towel lmao, mentions of food and detailed popsicle eating,  reader is very vocal and talkative, slight use of the pet name “pretty”, a lot of cum, cream pie, unprotected sex, mention of bc pills, Jay has a huge cock and he didn’t even know it, inexperienced Jay, experienced reader, finger sucking, nipple sucking, grinding, oral (f recieving), Jay gets on his knees, making out, sex on a table

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         It wasn’t shocking that you were failing but it was shocking that not a single one of your friends were failing with you. They somehow managed to keep their grades up while partying just as often as you do. You don’t know how the hell they did it and you also don’t know why the hell they refuse to help you study now that they’ve seen your failure.

         Not the greatest friends, you think. They won’t help you study because they only have time to study their own classes and to continue partying without you, apparently. You knew you had to come to terms eventually that these people aren’t your friends. They’re just people to party with, people to have fun with, and apparently, people that will watch you struggle.

         It’s frustrating to walk home from classes by the run-down houses with booming music already playing. Without fail, every time, you wish you could be attending instead of studying. It’s even more annoying when you give up on your studies because you’re just not fucking getting it, and you probably would be fucking getting it if you were at a party talking to potential boyfriends or fuckbuddies. 

         Fairness in the world is so hard to grasp. Someone else always has it, but never you. The worst part about all of this is that you’re very aware of how lucky you actually are, you wasted away in college and allowed yourself to get this low simply because you were lucky enough to be well-liked. You prioritized the pointless things over the important things, and now you’re suffering for it. Complaining that you can’t attend parties, looking like a bore to your friends who pity and are embarrassed by you for not being able to multitask like everyone else.

         That’s right. You can’t party and study like everyone else, so maybe now it’s time to focus on the task you’d pushed aside for so long.

         Studying. Ugh.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         You don’t know Jay past the fact that he is in at least three of your classes, extremely quiet, and constantly in the library when you pass by to leave the campus. You’re a little bit ashamed to admit that the majority of people you are well-liked by are the people who are ignoring you right now. The only choice you have is to find someone that can help you catch up on all of the studies you’ve blatantly abandoned. You could go through the student center and “officially” attend tutoring sessions with someone who would likely scoff at you for not getting it, or you could find someone of your own choice to help you. 

         That’s the only reason Jay comes to mind. Again, he is in three of the four of your classes. Every semester, without fail, you’ll look for your name on the dean’s list knowing that it’ll never show up, but you have seen Jay’s name on that list more times than you care to remember. 

         Jay knows of you as well. The girl who cut in front of him in the cafeteria to grab coffee with her large group of friends, making him ten minutes late to be early for his class. The girl who loudly slammed a book down in the library and nearly gave him a heart attack, the girl who came into class stumbling and giggling with one of the guys, clearly still tipsy from the night before. 

         You are everything that Jay isn’t. You are everything he avoids when accepting friends into his life, and his interest in you doesn’t really go past the point of having a stubborn, pretty girl to look at. He is a man after all. A man who is finally away from home, surrounded by hormonal women and men who can’t see past their brain fog of sexual fantasies in class. Never towards him though, he’s usually just on the outside looking in. 

         Jay has those fantasies too, but it isn’t his focus. He is dead set on being a top student, one that people recognize on the academic end rather than the partying end of it all. So, here he is, sitting with his nose in a book, glasses sliding down every few minutes as he munches on a pack of crackers. He’s been here for three hours already and finds comfort in the silence of the library. It’s such a vast place with so many corners to hide in if someone were to come and disturb his peace. Today is no different from any other Friday, where few students choose to study and instead opt for one of the various frat parties or bar hops. 

         You wish you could be one of those people, truly, but instead, you’re making your way to the library in search of Jay. The one student who you assume may actually take you up on the offer of study sessions. You imagine his shocked face when you sit in front of him, and you try your best not to imagine a look of disgust rather than approval. You need Jay now, for the first time in your life, more than ever. His knowledge of the three out of four classes you have will surely work wonders on your GPA, you will probably have to admit how much you’d be relying on him in order for him to even consider your offer too.  

God, you hate begging.

The library is so deafeningly silent when you walk in. You can’t hear even the slightest of a whisper as you walk around and peek into the many empty study rooms and cubicles. After several minutes of searching, the anxiety bubbles up inside of you. What if he decided to do something else? Of all days? The one day where he is needed to be studying? 

Just as you turn to leave, ignoring the entire second floor of the library, you nearly walk straight into him. And by nearly, you actually do  walk directly into him. 

Books clatter to the floor, Jay sighs as he looks down without making eye contact with you. It’s not the first time he’s been walked into and it probably won’t be the last. He is forever wishing that people could just watch where they’re fucking going.

“Hey, I’m sorry–” You go to say as you lean down to help him pick up the mess, he still doesn’t look at you though. Honestly, he barely even notices you there with those airpods in his ears and eyes on the floor. 

To be fair, most people who walk into him just continue walking, so…

         When he does take note of another person helping him retrieve his things, he looks up. You’re not shocked that all he does is nod at you when he takes the book from your hands and makes his way back towards his study space. 

         In an awkward way, you follow him. You feel dumb and kind of lost in this world of books and good students. Up the stairs, towards the floor you’d not even bothered to check, Jay unintentionally leads you to his little corner that already has papers and books laid out. 

         You swallow hard when he takes his seat and looks up to see that you have followed him. Jay is quick to swipe one of his AirPods from his ears and you can kind of tell that he instantly went from relaxed to nervous.

“Uh–” You look around, feeling awkward standing there. “I was looking for you.” 

“Me?” Jay questions with a soured look on his face. He doesn’t really do it intentionally, it’s just, like, what? 

 “Why?”

“Okay, just hear me out.” You start, taking a few steps forward and inviting yourself to sit at his table. There is absolutely no arm space on this side, but that doesn’t entirely matter. You begin your pitch.

“I know it’s kind of weird, but, I’m failing.”

“That’s not weird.” Jay mocks, shaking his head and moving to put his airpod back in his ear.

“Wait! Just, please–hear me out.” You plead now, a little frustrated that he’s already refusing to help you.

         He looks around and then lets out a deep sigh. Rubbing his temples, he nods.

“I know we aren’t the type to like, help each other or whatever– but I’ve asked all of my friends, and they kind of blacklisted me…you are my last resort, I swear.” You say, begging with your eyes. “Can you please just help me study for like, one day a week?”

         His body is stiff and his face is unimpressed by your pitch. 

“An hour a week?” You adjust clapping your hands together to plead even harder. You very nearly start to grovel on the ground before him. “Jay, please. I need to get my grades up.” 

“If you had just given yourself a day a week, you wouldn’t have to be asking someone you’ve never even spoken with to help you study.” He rolls his eyes, still mocking and appearing a bit cocky at the sudden power he’s been given. Of course he only gets approached when someone needs something from him. 

 “How many classes are you failing?”

“I’m failing three classes and have a C in another–” You shamefully admit. “Just an hour a day, please.”

         Jay eyes you over, shifting a bit in his seat before letting out another sigh. 

“Finals are barely a month away.”

“I know! I’ve already got extra credit lined up so I can at least get my grades up by a letter but– I,” You look down, more ashamed than before.

“You don’t know how to actually do the extra credit, do you?” Jay finishes for you and is, for some reason, shocked when you nod. 

         He can see the panic in your eyes, and he noticed for the past week that you’d been looking incredibly tired around campus. Not the hung-over type of tired either. He’s noticed you move your seat closer to the front in one of the classes and even noted that you’re actually taking notes during your time spent there. Maybe he should help you out. If not for the fact that you genuinely seem to need it, but also maybe because he’s like, incredibly aware that he is attracted to you.

 He always has been, but that’s not the fucking point. 

“Okay, you can come study with me whenever you want then. I usually study here because I have a roommate who isn’t exactly the quietest person–” He goes to explain. 

“I have an entire apartment to myself, you can come study at my place. Really, I’ll make food and everything.” You panic, still trying to sell the idea despite him already accepting your offer. 

         Jay is a little shocked and offended that you have your own apartment, and yet you’re failing your classes. No way in hell are you paying for that yourself. This only prompts him to want to help more. Because, like? An entire apartment to study in? Where a pretty girl makes his food? 

“Okay, that can work. What days and times can I be over?” He follows up with a nonchalant nod, noting the three shared classes and the one other you’ll probably need help with. He hopes he’s already taken the outlier class, otherwise he won’t be much help in that regard. 

“You can walk home with me after those classes if you want, and we can study until you’re ready to leave?” You offer. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be every day, but–”

“We can meet up after every class and decide if you want to study or not.” Jay finishes for you yet again, and you nod with a smile. 

“What’s your favorite food?” You ask, wanting to make a mental note of keeping your end of the bargain. 

         Jay thinks hard at that because being put on the spot like this makes answering any question a bit difficult. 

“Here–” You hold out your phone. “Put your number in and you can think about it. I’ll text you so you have mine.”

 You can’t wipe the smile off of your face, the anxiety is practically dissolving from your body at the very idea of someone being willing to help you in the comfort of your own apartment.

         He, on the other hand, is a bit more anxious now. He realizes that now, he’s going to be studying with you. A girl who had never even looked at him twice during the semesters you’ve shared classes. He’s putting his number into your phone, and you’re going to be texting him, and spending time with him instead of going to the parties that he’s never invited to. 

“I’ll see you on Monday?” You ask in his silence, sending a quick text to him so that he can save your number. He nods and looks down at his books. “Don’t forget to text me what you want to eat, okay?”

         He nods again as you stand to walk away. He watches intently at the way you have a little bounce in your step and can’t help but feel his cheeks flushing. God, why is he doing this to himself? 

         Slamming his head on the desk, he, much like you, cannot stop smiling now. All thoughts of studying for the remainder of the night left his head and were replaced with his new study schedule. He thinks he will try and take it easy this weekend, specifically so he is mentally prepared. He’s only talked to you for a total of fourteen minutes and he’s already lost his ability to study and think clearly. 

If he’s lucky, the two of you will pass this semester with flying colors. There’s still that tiny part of him though, that wonders if maybe you’d find interest in him, and maybe he will fail the semester with you because, honestly, you are so distracting.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         On Monday, you sat up straight in class while eyeing the back of Jay’s head most of the time. Mostly to prepare yourself for if and when he makes a break for it. He hasn’t even texted you what he wants to eat today, and part of you wonders if he went back on his promise to you. Not that it was much of a promise in the first place, anyway.

         He was a little shocked that you weren’t the first out of the room once everyone wrapped up though. Like you, he was assuming the same thing. You’d make a fucking break for it and pretend you never approached him in the first place. After all, It was common for you to leave mid-way through class or be the first one out the door. Instead though, he finds himself proud of you. You stood there awkwardly looking at him as the room emptied out, clearly unsure of what to do or say to him.

         Jay nods your way as if to beckon you towards him. 

“You’re still wanting to study today?” He asks with a brow raised in surprise. 

All weekend he had thought about it. Thought about the possibility of it just being a joke to you, or maybe that you’d change your mind and allow yourself to flunk out like you already had been doing. His heart kind of jumps a bit noticing you looking at him like this. 

“Yeah? Wasn’t that the plan?” You ask, nudging him a bit once you get up beside him. “You didn’t text me what you wanted to eat so you’re just gonna have to eat whatever I have in the fridge, by the way.”

         Jay nods, opting to stay silent at this moment. He’s going home with you. He’s going to be seen on campus walking home with you. He’s not the sort to want attention, but this situation feels dangerously attractive to him. Especially when he takes note of how you’re probably going to look all…cozy and at home in your apartment. Like, he gets to be in your space teaching you things that you should have already known. 

         It all shouldn’t be so exciting. After all, his days are filled with the typical boring sessions of reading, writing, noting, and memorizing. It is exciting for him though. Never has he studied with someone like you, or really even gotten to talk to someone that most of the men speak to, the unreachable men no less. The ones with families that own the city, and all the houses in it.

You’re one of the unreachable women on campus, he thinks. The ones with standards based on fun, attractiveness, and chaos rather than charisma, personality, and knowledge. It’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing for Jay to be doing this right now.

“Okay, so...” Jay drones out, avoiding eye contact with you as he packs things into his ratty backpack. “I’m not super hungry right now but–we are going to your place right?”

He needs the confirmation himself if he’s being honest. Nothing would suck more than assuming and being proved wrong.

         You nod with a smile, grabbing his hand as soon as he throws his backpack on. It isn’t intimate to you, but for him, it’s…something. Holding his hand is reserved for intimate relationships with family or girlfriends. He never holds hands.

 He’s never really gotten the chance to anyway, aside from a little cousin when they were crossing the street last summer. He can’t help but buckle in on himself in a shy sort of way as you lead him from the room and out of the building. 

         You’re rambling about all of the things you need to study. All of the snacks you could offer to him. All of the hours you wish you hadn’t wasted partying, yet, all he’s thinking about is how warm your hand feels in his. You seem to be a natural at talking to people. Touching them without a single worry in the world, it’s kind of nice, he thinks. The fact that you aren’t ashamed to be seen together with him, heading towards the place you sleep. Sometimes Jay forgets that this is college. No one actually cares who is hanging out with who unless they are in the middle of a raunchy frat party, seeing their love interest getting touched against a dirty bathroom counter. 

         He smiles to himself as he finally catches up to you and allows you to stop dragging him around. He keeps pace with you now, resting his hand as if to allow you to let go, but you don't. 

“Just around that corner–” You say,  glancing over at him and noting the shade of color his face has become. “You good?” 

         Jay nods, staying quiet and trying to force himself out of his thoughts. He glances down at your hand holding his and then back up at you on instinct. 

“Ah, sorry.” You mumble, releasing his hand and trying hard to understand that maybe you truly are too clingy with most people in your life. You think his reaction was kind of cute though, and now you’re a little determined to help him relax those stiffened shoulders. Jay can’t be as boring as he seems, right?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“I have peanut butter and jelly, eggs, noodles, some leftover pizza and–”

“I’m not hungry, but If I can have some water or something, that would be cool.” Jay cuts you off, slipping off his shoes in an immaculate show of how clumsy he is. You can hear the clatter of your entire coat rack falling to the floor due to his weight leaning on it through that single task. 

“Okay–” You side eye his mess with a slight smile. “Water, got it.”

 You trail off to get him the drink, keeping a small mental note of how nervous he appears to be right now. He’s panicked, frantically trying to balance your coat rack back in place as if you hadn’t walked directly into him just the Friday before. 

“Jay, it’s just a coat rack.” You laugh with water in hand, hearing him mutter a sorry as he hangs one of your empty purses back onto it.

“Thanks.” He says now, reaching out for the drink.

         Watching his eyes go from the glass of water to your apartment, you smile at the look on his face. Such a smart guy acting so incredibly stupid the moment he’s alone in an apartment with a girl. Cute.

“Is this good?” You ask as if you’re offering a change of subject so that he doesn’t have to think about the coat rack he had just knocked over. You point over to your dining table that’s placed perfectly in a little nook against a window and look at him as he stands in place. “We can start whenever you’re ready?”

“Can you show me to the bathroom first?” Jay blurts, hyper-aware of his awkward demeanor. He needs to calm himself down before even thinking about sitting down to fucking study. 

   You point to the bathroom quickly, making your way to the table and adjusting everything so there is space for the piles of books soon to be laid on it. You watch only a little bit at how Jay makes his way over to said bathroom in a show of not-so-confident body language. He seemed kind of cocky on Friday, but today he seems to be like jelly. 

         You sit at the dining table without thinking much more of the man in your bathroom, instead, you pull out some textbooks and lay them out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

         Jay stares at himself in the mirror, he can practically see the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears as he comes to terms with the fact that he probably shouldn’t have agreed to come to your apartment to study. You’re attractive. That alone is a reason in his head to avoid it, but he’s here and he’s already made a fool of himself. 

         He slaps his face a bit with some cold water and tries to will himself to stop acting like such an awkward idiot. Surely you’ll pick up on his inability to talk to women if he doesn’t get it together, right? You’re going to think he’s some weirdo, a pervert maybe, before throwing him out and avoiding him forever.

         Staring harder at himself, he waits for the color to run from his face so that way he can get out there and start the study session, but then his eyes start to wander. 

         Your bathroom is immaculately clean save for some makeup stains on the counter and a few stray hairs that must have been yanked out of your head while you attempted to brush out a night of drinking. It smells fresh and your perfectly hung towels look plush hanging against the wall. Without a thought in his head, he leans towards the towel so that he can dry his face and hands, and that’s just what he does. Except, maybe he buries his face into the towel a bit longer than he needed to, and maybe the smell of it was so astronomically sweet that he nuzzled against it even more.

         He could tell the towel had been used at least once though, solely because he could smell a scent that wasn’t the soap on the counter, nor any laundry detergent he’s aware of. Then…his eyes flick to the actual hand towel that he somehow missed, right beside it? A lace bra. The flush comes back to his face, making him feel even warmer than he did when he entered the room. Which feels like a fucking nightmare if he’s being totally honest. 

         It dawns on him again. He’s in your apartment, smelling your towels, and staring at your bra. Coming to the bathroom in an attempt to calm down has done nothing more than make things worse, and the only option he has now is to stumble out of the bathroom hoping you assume he was in here doing number two rather than planting his face into a towel where you dry off your naked body. 

         Mumbling to himself, Jay prepares himself to face you. Sure, you probably see nothing out of the norm if he does well and hides the fact that he’s hyper-sensitive just for being in your space, then again, Jay has never been the best at playing pretend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You offer him a bright smile once he finally makes his way back into your living space and seats himself at the table. He seems to be avoiding eye contact with you, bashfully pulling his own books out of his bag with shaking fingers. 

“Are you okay? You sure you don’t want a snack or something?” You look at him, head tilting at him in concern. 

Jay finally looks at you and notes how comfortable you seem while he feels like he’s internally falling apart. There shouldn’t be any fucking issue in his head when it comes to this situation, but here he is, panicking because a pretty girl is in front of him. 

He feels so dumb, so obvious, so embarrassed. Yeah, maybe he should eat something, at least so he can buy some time to focus on something else before he starts stuttering through your studies. At this rate, all you’re going to learn about today is how awful Jay is around women. 

“Maybe I should eat, yeah–” He says in a small voice, still staring at the books as he places them on the table.

“Come look in my kitchen, we can eat something together?” You offer, reaching toward his hand. 

He pulls back from your touch and tries to play it off casually like he was just reaching for a pencil, but you didn’t miss the fact that his hands were cold and shaky.

Taking note, it starts to dawn on you. You’ve dealt with men like him before, and it was always an interesting situation. To check your theory, you rise from the chair and lean over the table, being sure to squish whatever cleavage you have visible to make it more visible to him. 

“Salty or sweet?” You ask, watching his eyes intently and the way they struggle to reach your face. Score one for you, Jay is definitely a man above all. Luckily for him, you have lots of experience in that field, while he appears to have very little in the field of women. 

“W-what?” He drones out, pulling his eyes away from you in an attempt to hide the way his face immediately flushed. 

“The snacks? Savory or sweet?” You laugh, propping yourself back from the table and hopping into the kitchen, checking behind you to see if he follows.

He does stand to follow, but by the time you round the corner, he isn’t behind you like you figured he would be. Peeping your head around the corner, you watch as he holds his hands in front of his groin, looks down at himself, and then lets out a deep sigh. You then watch as he adjusts himself in his pants, uncomfortably hiding a semi-hard on so that he could come into the kitchen without suspicion. 

By this point, you’ve already decided that studying will very likely not be part of today’s schedule. He wouldn’t be able to focus on a damn thing like this, right? You should help him, right?

“Took you long enough.” You joke as he appears in the kitchen, turning to look at him and intentionally trailing your eyes down his body just to see if you can see any sort of bulge. He’s safe though because he apparently must have skills in hiding his arousal during the worst times. 

Jay, on the other hand, can already tell that your shift in mood is intensely different compared to before he went to the bathroom. Twice now you’ve been blatant towards him and it is not helping him at all right now. Is he reading it wrong because he’s very obviously horny right now? Were you really trying to dangle your breasts in front of him like that? Are you really checking him out right now? 

“Sorry–” He looks down. “I– uh, I dropped something.” He offers as an excuse, uncomfortably trying to shift from your view and avoid eye contact. 

“Sure.” You say with a roll of your eyes, knowing full well that he was hiding his cock. “I want something sweet. Sounds good?” You change the subject, reaching out and running your fingers down his arm. 

He swallows hard, stiffening his shoulders and nodding to you. Without hesitation, you let your fingers stay against him for a few seconds longer, keeping eye contact with him before turning and opening a cupboard. 

“Peanut butter crackers, cereal, and oatmeal.” You deadpan, slamming the cupboard and stepping to the fridge. “Pudding.” Then you open the freezer. “Popsicles, and ice cream.”

Jay just stands there when you close the doors to the fridge and look at him in question. He could opt for the crackers but his throat is already dry enough. Choking right now would be even more humiliating. Cereal could work but that would be embarrassing too, for some reason. Oatmeal is an option, solely for how disgusting it looks, surely it would tame his boner. 

But, popsicles? Hell no.

“Grab whatever you want, I'm eating a popsicle.” You say, raising a brow and throwing open the freezer door again to take your pick.

Of course, it’s  intentional. It’s fun to see his eyes light up at the very idea of seeing you eat a popsicle, and even more fun to imagine how flustered he’s going to be in mere minutes.

Jay looks to the floor and heads towards your fridge, also opting for a popsicle despite his very recent internal protest. Mostly so you don’t think he’s a pervert when he inevitably sees you eat it. But also, like, just in case you really are trying to flirt with him right now, at least his lips will taste sweet too. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You had expected Jay to get flustered, and boy did he. What you didn’t expect though, was to become flustered yourself by the image of Jay’s tongue darting over sweet ice, and then over his own lips to suck up the melted and sticky juice. The only image in your head right now is the idea of if he would lick his lips like that if you were to spread your legs for him. Would he lick up your mess on his face, chasing the flavor the same way he’s doing right now?

A dull ache begins to spread throughout your body as you watch him. His eyes still avoid you but you manage to catch him a few times. Each time he makes eye contact with you, your gaze shoots to his lap just to see if he’s gotten hard enough for his cock to leave its tucked position in his waistband. 

Jay is hyper-aware now too, with the way you’re staring and almost leaving your popsicle unattended as he eats his own. He feels confused, like? Are you doing what he was actively avoiding doing to you? Jesus, you really are kind of a whore, god.

By the time the popsicles are finished, your fingers are sticky from allowing it to drip down the stick. You make a point to suck each of your fingers innocently, looking under your lashes at him for split seconds as you begin to shuffle through the papers on the table. 

“So–” You say, popping one finger out of your mouth and inserting another. “Can we start here? I need to have a paper written on at least one topic on this list and have no idea how to find a good source to read from.”

Jay hears and sees you in tunnel vision right now, but he manages to catch the ass end of your sentence and begins to try and focus on the studies at hand. Still watching you suck your fingers into your mouth, he clears his throat and places his own popsicle stick onto the table, pretending he doesn’t wish your tongue would lick him like that.

“I wrote mine based on this topic, and I found a lot of good sources for it. I don’t think our professor would think too hard about us choosing the same subject–” 

“Yeah, especially because it’s me. They’d never guess you’re in my apartment right now.” You laugh, smirking over at him. 

“I would’ve never guessed either–” Jay says without thinking, barely processing how embarrassing he is before you squint at him with a wider smile. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, raising a brow and leaning forward. “Why’s that?” 

Jay tries to look around but now can’t seem to force his eyes away from you. A much different circumstance compared to before when he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. There’s a connection here, he can feel it. You’re definitely coming onto him and you have been for the past however long he’s been here.

“You’re kind of out of my league, don’t you think?” He laughs more at himself than he does the situation, and to you, he honestly looks pitiful after saying that. It’s incredibly attractive to you in the way he seems to praise you for being a failure simply because he’s attracted to you. At least, that’s the case if you’re reading him right.

“Who said someone like you couldn’t teach me a thing or two?” You have a smile in your voice, and it comforts him, but that comfort is shot down when you stand on your feet and walk over to him. “Who says I’m out of your league?” You ask again, watching him scoot back with his chair as you come closer.

You prop yourself against the table, essentially blocking him from his books and papers. You look down at him now, dipping your head in a playful way. “I don’t think I’m out of your league.” 

Jay notes how you’re between him and the table now. You look comfortable leaning in front of him like this, and when his eyes trail up to your face all his body can do is give in. He looks at you through large eyes, the overhead light is sparkling through them at you. 

In that instant, you can see his embarrassment fill his body because he’s no longer resisting the urge to be himself. He’s staring at you as if you could be a god and saying nothing in response to your words. 

“If anything, Jongie–” You soothe him, grabbing one of his hands and smiling at the way his pen immediately falls out of his grip. “You’re out of my league.” 

He blinks up at you, soaking in the words and not yet understanding in full what you’re doing until he feels warmth enveloping the entirety of his hand and wrist. 

“Do you know how lucky I am that you’re here right now?” You ask him, basking in the way you can see his breath get caught in his throat. “How lucky I am that you’re not only smart but hot too?”

He dips his head at this, a bashful show of your words having an impact on him. He hides his face briefly against his arm and then he realizes–

“Is this okay?” You ask, holding his hand in place as you begin to move your hips against his palm.

Jay watches the way you’ve managed to pull his hand out and plant it between your legs, all so you could grind against it without so much as a warning. He’s not against it though, if anything, his head is shot back to reality and he’s immediately back to glancing around the room and avoiding the scene in front of him.

His palm is against your literal, dampening panties, and all he can think to say right now is, “You could write your thesis on human connection and its effects on the brain.” 

You smile at his attempt to continue to study through this moment.

“I could,” You say with a deeper voice than before, feeling the way his hand stays relaxed in your grasp as you grind against it. “Or we could think about how your brain is being affected right now?”

Jay groans, feeling the warmth of your wet beginning to seep through the fabric, and honestly, it is happening so fast that he’s sure it would be more embarrassing if he walked out now. 

“How are you feeling?” You reword your question towards him, intentionally swiveling your hips so that you can position his fingers into your underwear. 

“You’re warm.” Jay chokes out, eyes now zoning in on your legs slightly spread in front of him. 

You let out a small laugh at this, pulling a bit on his arm to pull him closer, but he doesn’t compute it at all. 

“Do you like it?” You ask again, this time slipping his fingers into you. You let out a deep sigh and roll your eyes back, fucking yourself gently against his fingers before you look at him.

He’s nodding, probably more thankful now that you’d worn a skirt today rather than pants. He didn’t allow himself to take note of your attire, because if he did, he would have made even more of a fool of himself. But he’s nodding now, watching the way you hold his arm in place and slide his fingers in and out of you. 

His silence is louder than his words could be right now, you think. You can feel him straighten his fingers inside of you, you can practically see him salivate at the very idea of how you’re using him right now. You’re not done though, no, no. He’s far too sweet like this, but you want to hear words.

Gently, you pull your hips back effectively slipping his fingers out of you. There, you lift his arm and examine your wetness against his fingers. You smile again, eyes now adjusting to his face rather than his wet fingers. 

Jay watches as you guide his fingers to his lip, and without a second thought, he opens his mouth to taste you against them. He licks circles around each of the two fingers, closing his eyes almost instantly so that he can relish the experience.

He no longer cares how awkward he must seem sitting here like this, letting you do all the work.

“Do you like the taste too?” You ask, releasing his hand and watching how he continues to suck his fingers. 

“Mhm–” Jay groans with his closed mouth around the digits, making damn sure to suck every bit off.

“You’re pretty, you know that?” You compliment him this time, tearing your eyes from him and slipping your panties down your legs. You turn yourself over so that you’re now bent over the table and you ignore the corner of one of the textbooks poking against your ribs, all in favor of what sound Jay will make when he opens his eyes. 

“You can taste more, if you want.” You offer, lifting to look behind you at the way his fingers drop from his mouth and his eyes immediately zone in on your bare pussy displayed for him under your hiked-up skirt. 

He does let out a whimper, one that seemed entirely desperate to do just that for you but–he doesn’t move. He just stares, soaking in the words you’re saying, memorizing each fold and dip in your glistening pussy.

You don’t intend to wait though. Reaching behind you, you grab the back of his head by his hair and guide his face to you. The way you can hear his chair tip over as he falls to his knees makes you quiver a bit before him, and you’re almost surprised to not just feel a face against you. It appears that Jay does know what he’s doing. 

He instantly jumps into action, loving the feeling of your hand in his hair basically telling him to do it. Giving him that green light, letting him.

You can feel his tongue exploring and his other hand reaching to lift your skirt entirely over your ass. His tongue is soft, warm, wet, and so entirely eager to lick and suck every inch of you. It’s not until he starts allowing his moans to vibrate into your flesh that you hike one of your legs up and open your cunt against his working tongue more.

Guiding him by his hair still, you press his face harshly into you with little to no fight for air from him, and you’re loving it. Loving the way he whines for more when his tongue reaches the furthest limit, loving even more when he finally reaches his hands up to your pussy and spreads it out for himself.

He isn’t even thinking at this moment, just tasting and feeling you guide his tongue as if this is what you wanted all along. The thought alone of someone like you wanting to fuck his tongue like this sets his cock on fire in so many ways. He’s so hard right now that it hurts to think about it at all. Jay doesn’t give a single fuck about how pathetic he must sound to you right now, whimpering and panting against you as if this was the only sweet thing in your apartment he wanted to eat anyway. 

You hear a clatter to the floor, knowing for a fact that he’s knocked his glasses off of his face from the angle in which he skewed his neck in order to fuck his tongue into you. You wonder what’s going through his mind right now, because goddamn he’s eating you out like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. He’s impressively messy and loud with it too, making you feel as if you must taste like the sweetest thing on earth to him. 

For some reason, thinking back to all of the non-sexual situations you’d passively seen Jay in? It turns you on even more. The big-brained student who is constantly making straight As and never going out to parties eats pussy like this? Eats your pussy like this? Better than half of the men you’d already been with? Jay doesn’t miss a single centimeter of it,  and you can tell he’s focusing on you more than he has ever focused on his homework or studies before. 

You feel so deeply needed at this moment by Jay that all you can do is let out a desperate moan for him. One so that he knows he’s not the only one utterly stunned by the turn of events, but also because you’re fucking loving what he’s doing to you.

With each moan, Jay picks up his pace, using those same two fingers and spreading your cunt out impossibly wider just so he can attempt to bury his tongue deeper into the messy, wet heat you offer. He’s spreading you apart so well that it almost pains you to move without the fear of being torn open by his tongue alone. Your clit has barely even been reached but he still managed to make you feel sensitive to the point of wanting to beat your fists on the table out of sheer frustration for not approaching him sooner. 

Not only can he help you pass your classes, but he surely could make you feel like a fucking queen on top of it all, licking you open, up and down, as if he were born and trained for you and you alone? Insane.

“You’re so–” You groan out, releasing his hair from your grip but pressing your ass out more so that you can feel him slip his tongue back to your clit with impossible reach. He continues that, sliding his tongue from your clit to your entrance, dipping in and swirling the muscle before going back to your clit. All while he’s moaning, groaning, and panting against you. 

It’s too much, he’s so incredibly eager that you’re honestly too sensitive to let him keep going. You hate it when you pull your hips forward and lift from the table. Your legs are shaking when you do this, and shaking even more when you turn to face him and lean against the table again. 

“How–?” You look down at him in pleasant surprise, watching him lick his lips much like you hoped he would. “How are you so good at this?” 

Jay is stunned by your question because in all fairness, he’s only ever eaten a girl out once and like, it wasn’t that great because she made him stop within like a minute. He wasn’t really thinking about what to do with you though, or how to do it. He just…did it. That’s all. So obsessed with the taste and smell of you to the point he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He’d still be licking you right now if you didn’t move away. 

“I–don’t know.” He shamefully admits, nonchalantly moving his hands to his pants and unbuttoning them. Not to fuck you or anything, mostly just to release his cock from the chokehold of the denim rubbing against him. 

“You’re lying.” You deadpan, running your hand between your legs and quivering the moment your fingers run over your swollen clit. “There’s no way you haven’t practiced doing this.” You gasp, looking at him as if no other man exists. 

He shakes his head, looking up at you from the floor with innocent eyes. His lips are wet, his eyes are hooded, his hair sticking up from your fingers guiding him– it’s a lot to see him like this when you’ve only ever seen him as that goody-two-shoes student who doesn’t know how to have fun. Clearly, Jay knows how to have fun.

Your gaze on him makes him feel more bashful as he looks down to the floor, feeling embarrassed that you’re praising a complete amateur at this. 

Using your leg, you nudge him.

“You did all of that and didn’t even touch yourself?” You ask in curiosity, noting how he had only just now undone his pants to relieve pressure. “Let me see it.” You say again, almost demanding as you hop up on the table and spread your legs even more.

Frantic at your tone of voice, Jay stumbles to his feet and pushes his pants down to his thighs. His cock springs out and stands erect in front of you. You could stare all day, honestly. Jay, of all people? He’s the one with a cock this big? He’s the one with a size that could make you feel as if you’re being split in half? Well, fuck.

“God.” You comment, mouth falling open at the way it twitches in mid-air. “All of the girls would be fucking swooning, Jay, really.” You get a bit flustered yourself because only now do you understand who you just seduced and what he’s got to offer outside of brains. 

In all of his shyness, Jay hides his face from you again despite his cock out in all of its glory. Your mouth could honestly start watering if he hadn’t just eaten you out to the point of needing him to stop. Meaning, your throat is too dry right now to start drooling. 

Without another thought, you pull your shirt and bra off all in one go. No way in hell is he leaving without fucking you stupid with a cock like that. Absolutely no fucking way  would you let this go to waste.

“When’s the last time you’ve done anything with a girl?” You ask now, reaching for his arm and pulling his gaze back towards you, now almost completely naked save for your skirt hiked up to your waist. 

Jay stares at you again, much like he did when you spread your legs in front of him, this time zoning in on the way your nipples are erect and begging for his mouth to be put to use again. He nearly forgets that you’re talking to him because of the way you’ve presented yourself to him. The reality is right in front of his face, but he still wonders if this must be a dream.

“I–um– right out of high school before she broke up with me,” He says in a lazy voice, slightly raspy. It sounds as if it doesn’t even matter to him because he is so focused on you in front of him. “I’ve only had sex two times.”

“Aw–” You pitifully look at him. “What a waste, you’re such a pretty boy.” You coo, wiggling your hips as if to entice his cock to make its way towards you. “You’ve got the brains and the cock for it. You must feel so neglected.”

All he does is nod, because yes, he does feel fucking neglected, partly because he let it happen and mostly because he knows he doesn’t know how to talk to girls. Right now, Jay could genuinely start crying if you keep talking to him like this though. He can’t tell if you’re mocking him or being genuine, but the only thing he wants to do is bury his cock so deeply inside of you that all you can do is moan out mantras of how pretty he is again. He wants to hear you moan over how much time has been wasted without his cock inside of you, how badly you’d want him again and again after this. 

You can see his facial expressions change every few seconds and to be fair, your body yearns to be filled. With the way he is looking at you, there’s no way he doesn’t want to.

“Wanna fuck me, Jongie?” You ask, realizing that you much prefer calling him this rather than his full name because he seems to lean directly into it. 

“God,” He sighs out, hanging his head to look at the way his cock still stands painfully erect throughout the conversation. “Can I?” He asks now, making eye contact with you through pleading eyes.

You reach out for him, grabbing his waist and pressing his cock directly against your core. You lean your head back a bit to look at him and the way his eyes sear straight through your own. His pupils are dilated, his cheeks are rosy, and his lips are glistening. You lick against them, and the way he immediately starts to kiss you makes you think he’s a liar. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his mouth regardless of where it is. His tongue presses into your mouth so beautifully that you genuinely could argue that this man has only ever had sex twice. 

Maybe he’s a natural? 

Jay knows exactly when to grind his cock between your folds, knows exactly when to pull back to kiss your neck, and knows exactly how to lean you back with his hand protecting the back of your head so that it doesn’t slam against the table. 

He slips his cock so beautifully as he trails his kisses to your tits too, suckling gently against one of your nipples before he nearly can’t stand it anymore. He’s in his own world, barely recognizing that he’s not the only one experiencing this right now.

With an eager hand, Jay grabs his cock and presses it directly into you without waiting any longer. He isn’t slow or gentle with it. You can feel how desperate he is solely because of the way he can’t seem to fathom taking it slow. He doesn’t let you adjust, no. The second the head of that thick cock slips in he’s slamming in. All the way, forcing a yelp from your throat and a tight grip to his back.

He’s lost himself in the moment and you’re loving it. Loving the way his tongue picks up against your nipples, and the way there is no rhythm or rhyme to his thrusts. His size alone is enough for you, and you can admit to loving every single push and pull his body is offering.

The room is silent save for his whimpers, your gasps, and the wet sound of skin slapping against skin. You’re quick to wrap a leg around his waist so that when he presses in again, you can force him to stay in place, if just to let him genuinely feel what it’s like to have a pussy clenching around him.

“You feel it?” You groan out, feeling his teeth pinch against your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body. 

He nods frantically, pulling your nipple with his lips as he does it. You can tell he’s drooling, wetting your chest in such an embarrassing way, but he’s so–Jay. He’s Jay. This is Jay.

You watch his face and the way he winces with each pulse of your hole quivering around the sheer size of him, and you coo out at him when his cock twitches in response. As if you can handle yourself right now, as if he can too.

Neither of you can comprehend the pleasure.

“Can’t believe I get to be your third.” You sing out. “You’re so good, so–”

“S-stop talking, fuck-” Jay calls out in a broken and choked gasp, feeling too turned on by the way you speak. He can’t help it when he forces his hips to move against the pressure of your leg trying to keep him in place. This time he fucks at a quicker pace. His mouth falls open against your breast and his hands shoot to your waist as he pulls himself up and opens his eyes. 

He watches the way your sticky cunt coats him as he slides in and out of you, fingers pressing so hard into your hips that you feel he could be bruising you. 

You’re so in awe of him losing complete control that you want nothing more than to cum with him inside of you. You quickly reach your hand down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive spot almost to the point that you could start crying out at how painful it truly is at this moment. You’ve never been this sensitive for a man, and yet, you’re coming undone beneath him and nearly losing as much control as he has. 

A mess of moans and groans is filling the room as Jay chases his high, and you are at the point that you want to say the nicest and dirtiest things to him out of sheer arousal. So you do, you talk, and you talk. Whispers of “girls would die to be fucked by you,” turn to screams of, “yeah, fuck Jongie, just like that!” 

It wasn’t until you moaned out, “Cum with me, now, Jongie, I can’t hold it–” when Jay ’s hips stuttered and his eyes closed tightly in a frustrated groan. “Stop–” He grunts, hips pressing impossibly hard against you. To the point that you scoot up on the table. “Stop, I’m–” He groans again, attempting to pull out so that he can release against your pulsing and empty pussy.

But you don’t let him.

Your legs hold him in place as you release your clit and pull yourself up on your arms just to grab against his neck and pull him down with you against the table. 

“Cum in me.” You nearly demand, holding his face so that he can’t look away from you.

You watch the way his pupils dilate more at the words and you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you. Then? His pupils are gone. He’s rolling his eyes back now, looking so fucking beautiful while doing it.

Jay’s eyebrows fall much like his mouth does when he cums. His hips are frantic but his face looks calm, and not a single sound releases from his lips. His breath is caught in his throat with each twitch, shooting ropes into you so deeply that you feel each wave of his pleasure hitting your cervix. 

  You’re very quick to rub your clit again, harsh and rough circles being amplified by the way his abdomen adds pressure to your hand with each push of his cock in you. It sends you over edge so fast, even he feels the clench, choking out each spurt of his remaining orgasm. 

You grab onto him harshly now, without a thought in your head besides kissing him. He kisses you back, realizing that despite having sex before, this may be the first time he’s ever made a girl cum. It’s certainly the first time he’s ever felt his cock being tugged by the walls of a pussy as it works itself through an orgasm, anyway.

Crazy thing is…he’s not done. Like, he can’t stop cumming. Lasting entirely far too long and far past sensitivity. Jay opens his eyes to look at you when you’re reaching the end of your own orgasm, all while he’s still filling you up, and even feeling his load bubble out from around him with each tight thrust. Your voice is beautifully raspy, and the way you hold onto him makes him feel like you should never let go. 

Upon his ears popping and finally emptied, he genuinely feels the mess between the two of you. Quickly, he pulls back and notes that the hem of his shirt is absolutely fucking soaked. In an attempt to take a small step back in order to remove himself from you, he nearly trips over his pants that had fallen to his ankles.

“Oh.” You laugh, wincing as you feel his cock leave you empty. “Probably should have undressed you.” Your eyes sparkle at the large damp spot, nearly making his shirt entirely see-through from just how soaked it really is. 

Jay steps out of his pants silently and just kind of stands there awkwardly, watching the cum spill from you. Then panic spreads across his face. 

“Um,” He croaks out, voice cracking almost immediately. “I– I couldn’t pull out…I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want you to.” You soothe him, noting how he’s right back to his awkward and shy persona the moment he’s finished fucking you. “It’s fine, I’m protected” You confirm for him, just to see the relief replace that panic.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“So–” You comment, looking down at the wrinkled papers in front of you. “You really expect me to try and write at least 1200 words tonight?” 

Jay tilts his head at you, sitting with a blanket covering his entire body as his clothes go through the cycles of a wash. “If we hadn’t gotten off track, you could already be almost done with it.” 

“God, you are such a fucking bore.” You laugh, shivering at the cold air hitting your bare skin. “I’m literally naked right now and you’re making me do this right now?” 

“Finish your paper and we can talk about that. Besides, I kind of need to recover for more than thirty minutes from that, you know? I’m sensitive.” He shoots back, not afraid to sound as embarrassing as he truly is now. 

To his surprise, you nod with a cheeky smirk. Promising you any amount of him after what happened was enough to force your focus on your school work for now at least. Just because he did it once doesn’t mean he will always want to fuck stupid girls. If anything, Jay deserves someone who respects his work ethic and need to help others right? The huge cock is just a bonus when you think about it.

You know it’s going to be a hell of a month after tonight, but for the most part, you think that studying with Jay may have been your best college decision to date. You can learn a lot from him, and apparently... he can learn from you too. You just hope he doesn’t run off and use that knowledge on other girls once he realizes he’s definitely got the ability to break hearts. 

[highvern]

Rough

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: Cheol’s hands, fingering, spitting, minor pain kink, pussy slapping, teasing/begging, thick dick cheol, unprotected sex, creampie, minor breeding kink, mating press, soft(ish) dom Cheol, strength kink, he’s wearing a watch and his chain, praise

Length: ~2k

Note: an ode to Cheol's hands, and his c*** i needed a cigarette while looking at pictures of his hands for this fic. everyone rot with me @gyuswhore @wonustars @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

The lights of the TV illuminate you and your boyfriend’s intertwined forms resting on the sofa. Seungcheol’s hands busy themselves, fingers digging into the sore cords of muscle twisted along your legs. He thinks nothing of it, focused on the drama unfolding on screen while you focus on the cool metal of his watch licking just above your knee.

He smiles when you jump, the tickle of his fingers sending bubbling laughter into the space between you.

“What?” He asks, as if he doesn't have all your weak spots committed to memory.

“Nothing.” you mumble.

“Want me to stop?”

A shake of your head is the only reply Seungcheol needs before he pins your flailing limbs and goes about his business once again. 

His hands always feel incredible. They’re always warm, always gentle despite what lurks beneath the surface. And they’re always on you, in some way or another. 

The roughness of his palm or dig of his fingers are second nature after years of them glued to your body. Whether they’re holding you close or stroking across your cheek as he wakes you with sweet kisses. Heating the small of your back while he guides you in a crowd, or tangled with your own as he whispers his deepest secrets into the dark late at night. You love every part of him but his hands show you a million different ways he feels the same.

You try not to react as he massages up your thighs, the sinew of muscles seizing before they melt under his careful ministrations. 

Every sigh through your nose is a tell Seungcheol is well accustomed to; what you like and what you love. Because he knows you like when he focuses on the curve of your quad, or the meat of your calves until they’re putty.

But you love when he pushes his hand under your oversized shirt and stretches the muscles deeper inside until you vibrate with want.

“You’re not watching the movie.” He whispers into your ear, nose following the curve of your jaw to the place he knows drives you wild.

“I'm a little distracted right now.”

And just like that the thick fingers stuffed in your cunt freeze before retreating. You can’t close your thighs to stop it due to the hand pinning your leg down to his lap with bruising force. But he can’t prevent your free leg from kicking in protest as you beg him to stay.

Seungcheol pinches the inside of your thigh until it stings, “Stop.”

You know that tone. It’s the one that warns you if you keep going, you won’t get what you want; what you need. Seungcheol isn’t a stingy lover but he likes to play and this is his newest game. If you can play along long enough he’ll make it worth your while.

“Eyes on the TV.”

With a harsh swallow you turn back to the screen. Once your boyfriend is sure you won’t look away, his hand returns, three fingers stretching you at a snail's pace. When he’s worked them all in, no longer cautious of your initial discomfort, he stops; focused on curling up against that spot he’s always found with embarrassing ease; pressing until your legs shake and you actually do start dripping into his lap. If it wasn’t for the fabric of your shirt, he could see everything.

The hand on your thigh joins in, the pad of his finger drawing rough circles of your clit. It’s fast and it's dirty but you keep pretending to watch the TV while Suengcheol does as he wants. Your mind is so numb you don’t even realize he’s pushed away the blanket and ruched your shirt up your hips to leave you bare. Not until you hear him spit and feel it land on your exposed clit framed between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the upholstery. “Please.”

But he’s not done yet. A swift slap to your pussy sends stars in your eyes and your body ten feet in the air if not for the man forcing you in place.

“Just relax, baby.”

You try. And Seungcheol respects your effort because every muscle he worked into submission over the past ten minutes jumps alive under your skin but you sit still in his lap and take what he gives you like he knows you can.

He kisses your cheek before whispering, “I love you.” 

Each word burns into your skin, licks through your blood. He loves you, and you love him and all he wants to do is take care of you. So you try and let him even if it means madness. 

Seungcheol watches you pretend to watch the movie once again, but your mind focuses on the sound of debauchery echoing between your thighs. If you looked down you know what you’d see. The way your pussy clings to his fingers with every stroke out, how they glisten with your arousal, every squeeze; everything. 

All the teasing is enough to make your eyes gloss. Especially when he adds a fourth finger and tells you how perfect you are, how you were made for him, and if you cum right now he’ll give you his cock but you have to earn it.

You want to feel his lips suck around your clit until you're nothing more than an empty shell but you’ll happily settle for the swipes of his fingers. It’s obscene how wet you are and how loud your ruined cunt is over the blasting speakers. 

“C’mon pretty girl,” he coos into your ear. “Come for me.”

The coil winds and winds until it snaps. All the edges ripple, the world blurs. Every breath hurts from the punch in your stomach forcing bolts of electricity through your nerves. 

And Seungcheol doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you’re crying. Only to kiss away each tear with praise and soft lips. You barely crack your eyes open, watching his fingers disappear between his lips, sucking away the mess before he gives you a taste on his mouth.

Eyes shut and boneless in his arms, you let him push and pull you just the way he wants. Your body’s only protest in the exhaustion Seungcheol’s fucked into you with his hands. But it’s not enough to keep you from taking him again.

It never is.

When the jostling stops, you find him kneeling before you. He hasn't bothered to remove his clothes, or yours. Just forces your shirt over your breasts and his pants down until he's bare. Thick thighs frame an equally thick cock you know like the back of your hand.

If your boyfriend thinks you’re beautiful then he is other worldly in the glow of the LED screen. 

Hands anchored on the back of your knees, you spread out for his eyes only. Seungcheol’s mouth waters at your wrecked pussy, soaked and swollen from his attention, begging to be split on his cock. The drooling tip of his length taps against your clit, sending you deeper into the spiral, each nudge making your muscles twitch until he uses his thumb to catch on your opening and force himself through the mind numbing clench.

Seungcheol goes slow, pressing forward only a millimeter at a time, barely giving you a taste before he pulls back and starts again. If the way you’re positioned didn’t prevent you from rushing him forward than the fist around his cock would as he teases you until you're begging and he’s puffing up with pride at how desperate you are. 

Just when you think he’s ready to give in, almost flat against one another, he pulls out.

“I sweat to fucking god if you don’t fu—ckkkkkkk,”

Sheathed to the base in your heat Seungcheol finds paradise, dick twitching with every breath. The rough skin of his palms circle your ankles, spreading them up and out of the way so he can lean forward and give you what you want; your pussy stretched to the brim on his cock while he fucks every last thought out of your head.

“Move.” You mewl, barely human, shaking under his weight.

Settling your legs over his shoulders, he folds you in half, freeing the hands you love so much to do as he pleases. One lands just above your head to keep him from completely crushing you and the other cradles your jaw, thumb brushing across your lower lip before he meets you with a kiss.

His tongue glides against your own, fucking your mouth as his hips curl in time. Every thrust forward forces the air in your lungs up your throat to be swallowed by your boyfriend. He strokes you to life, pinned in place, helpless, glowing.

Seungcheol groans as he fucks you harder. “Fuck, you take it so well.”

You're shaking, vibrating from the synapses firing through every inch of your being. Chin dipped, you watch him wreck you, creaming around the base of his length like he’s fucked you for hours rather than minutes.

You’ll come like this, without any pressure on your clit; just the delicious drag of his thick cock in your walls, crushed under his weight and entirely at his mercy. Helpless Seungcheol latches his hand you yours, intertwines your fingers, and cants against like he’s possessed.

Eyes rolled as you go limp, you reach for his face and whimper into his mouth, climbing higher and higher until you hit the ceiling. Your hands are everywhere, anywhere in reach as you fail to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure rolling through your veins. And it all shatters with a whimper of his name.

He’s perfect and he’s yours and you don’t know what you did to earn him but you know you could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him.

You try to break through the noise. But it just serves to make things worse because the only thing the man on top you likes to see more than you desperate for him is you coming on his cock. The arm above your head collapses, sending all of his weight on you, forcing him deeper into your guts until you can taste him on the back of your tongue. The wet clap of his balls against your ass with each rut forward rockets you into the deep end. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Seungcheol bites into your jaw. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you’re so good. So good.” 

It’s blinding, eyes cinched so tight fireworks float in the darkness; Seungcheol’s moans blending with the rush of blood fleeing your brain. He’s feral with the satisfaction of your orgasm, how you wail beneath him like your neighbors won’t hear and know you have a man who pleases you in every way imaginable. Like you want everyone to know his name.

“Cheol,” you whisper, all breath. So quiet he wouldn’t hear you if he wasn’t dialed into your every move. “Want…” you pant. “Want you…”

Seungcheol presses as deep as he can before letting go; stuffing you with his cum, grinding into your pussy with every jerk of his cock until it spills around where he splits you and slips down your ass. 

His eyes never leave yours, watching you take every drop of his affection like you were made to. Like he was the one made to give it to you. Even with your thrashing, you never look away.

A final pathetic noise scratches the inside of your throat when he’s done. Seungcheol won’t pull out but he will pull away, yearning to see the mess between your bodies. Cum and arousal smears your bellies, your thighs, the base of his cock still inside you. Eventually he'll pull you up to wash off and you have no doubt the cushion will be beyond repair.

When he’s had his fill, he collapses into your chest, arms twine around your back as he kisses you with every ounce of devotion he can spare. Until you can feel his love down to the tips of your toes and through every last cell in your body.

And because showing you isn’t enough, he tells you again and again while he fills you once more in the comfort of your shared bed.

-

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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!

huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)

cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss

here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!

it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.

this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).

the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.

you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.

you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left. 

they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“ 

“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”

charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.” 

you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”

you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.

you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like. 

you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.

max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.

you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.

you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.

your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.

you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.

now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing. 

“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.

the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss. 

your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.

charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control. 

the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.

eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall. 

his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can. 

your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing. 

thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath. 

the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.

you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.

you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other. 

the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.

you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face. 

even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises. 

the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come. 

you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.

but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it. 

your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.

you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.

after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.

fuck.

a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”

max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath. 

but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide. 

charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”

max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”

the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom. 

max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.

max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”

your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly. 

max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”

you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.

the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”

you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“

charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”

you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”

you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”

max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.

“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”

“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”

charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago. 

you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy!  i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”

a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.

“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone. 

a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”

max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.

charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.

“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”

the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.

you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”

“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”

max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.

max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”

“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.

you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”

max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.

“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”

charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“

“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”

you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.

“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“

“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”

you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.

“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”

you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”

max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.

max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.

“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”

you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them. 

your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.” 

“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.

“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.

he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”

you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”

he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—

“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.

max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”

charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”

you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”

charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”

“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.

“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”

“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”

you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes. 

you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.

“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”

“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”

“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”

“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste. 

you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.

“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”

charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”

“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”

“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”

“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”

“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“

what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.

max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.

you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“

and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.” 

they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep. 

“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner. 

shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”

max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”

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© httpsserene 2023

[adragonofthings]

Scam blogs (and how to spot them)

Unfortunately, scams do exist on tumblr. That is why it’s key to always try to search around when someone’s sent you a request for mutual aid. Not every account is trying to scam you and for the most part there is legitimate blogs who need your help. Sadly there are also scammers who pretend to be needing mutual aid as well so here is a simple guide to figuring out scams.

How old is the account? The pinned post usually is a good way to tell if the account contacting you is new or old. If you scroll the posts, you should see if they were made around the same time as the account.

How many posts are on the account? Most blogs will have more than just a few posts here and there. After all, a well used blog has thousands of posts for you to look at.

Are there more original posts? Usually someone needing help will have multiple posts of their own instead of a single post that’s pinned. They will also post updates regularly regarding their situation and answer asks clarifying details when necessary.

What does the link on the pinned post say? If it’s a linktree claiming to be a GoFundMe link, that’s something to be suspicious of because it’s likely not. If the link is an actual GoFundMe link that isn’t a linktree link then that usually means the account is legitimate and may have shared posts verifying who they are if you scroll a little.

Is the ask being mass sent to users? While this is done by legitimate accounts too, it’s unfortunately also commonly done by scammers. If you search the ask you got you may find it was sent to multiple accounts across several months and from several different senders with no changes to the overall text itself. Even the formatting errors are not fixed.

Are there any warnings out for the username? Try searching the senders username to see if anyone’s made a post claiming the account is a scam. There should at least be one post about them. If not, it’s likely that they are too new to have been reported yet.

Are you a well known account? How likely is it someone would find you without searching specific tags or posts for users to contact? Think about it. How often does someone send you asks for money that is a relatively new account with only a few reblogs and only one original post? If it’s almost daily, then you should be wary of the asks.

What do you find if you search part of the pinned post in your preferred search engine? If a fundraiser pops up using the same text and doesn’t mention using another mutual aid method, it’s highly likely the blog sending you the ask is impersonating a real person who needs support.

Does the mutual aid post make sense? Some scammers don’t know how medicine works and may list some that don’t work like claimed. They’ll just use whatever sounds ‘right’ without further research. Someone who needs medication will always know what their medicine does they don’t guess because they’ll usually have a doctors paper they go by.

If you have properly recognized a scammer and have fully been able to confirm that their a scammer with enough evidence, please report scam accounts and alert anyone whose shared the scam post.