#i wish i could talk some more but i gotta go sleep now

[mylas-stash]

love is in the air? WRONG. Watchdogs from various rp blogs

Freddy (the one taking the photo), Cathy (the watchdog right behind Mort), and Teddy (the watchdog with the bowtie) belong to @ariel-s-awesome

Bert (the scientist watchdog with his hand on Mort's shoulder) and Moe (the watchdog behind Freddy with the little piercing) belong to @joeyprotozoa

Mort (the watchdog with an annoyed expression) belongs to @r0bottob0t

Larry (the watchdog with coloboma) belongs to me ^__^

original picture below:

[dadbots]

August… time to get spooky.

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[rqnarok]

MOTIVE | dark!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: strangers-with-benefits!old man!logan punishes you out of his jealousy.

— sequel to bed chem but could be read as a standalone!

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. porn with little plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. dom!logan. sub!reader. possessive & jealous logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. power dynamics. cnc. heavy breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 2,6k 

You didn’t think Logan would care—or notice, even. 

This thing between you and him has been going on for months now. He picks you up from the diner you’re working at, drives you home (his house), then fucks you stupid throughout the after-hours. 

The sex is everything you have craved for, really, “Ya’ need a real man to do this shit, huh?” A real man who does all the work and stuffs you up with his cock until you’re only speaking in high-pitched whines.

But aside from that fact, something is missing. Something your big heart always had craved, something he failed to fill.

The lack of attention and affection.

Outside intercourses, he barely talks to you. He departs from the bed after every time you fall asleep—or when he thinks that you’re already asleep. Sometimes, he takes you back to your house in the morning, sometimes he just leaves you in his vacant residence. 

All bare and worn out.

You’d rest your head on his chest in the dim room, drawing shapes on his naked skin, “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.” 

The tips of his fingers subtly stroke the crown of your head, a light touch you can barely feel, “Go t’sleep, kid.”  

It’s too unstable and lacks consistency.

That is when you start talking, well specifically, messaging, a friend of a friend, someone around your age. You are not even attracted to him but he’s nice. He gives you attention and affection you hardly even register. But hey, you just want your big heart loaded up. No one can ever blame you.

What you didn’t know is that Logan notices everything. He notices how you start to sleep more later than usual, playing with your phone for a while. How your lips curve upwards at the glowy screen when you thought that he already left the room. Making him utter a question into the cold air, “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

Strangled, your phone falls into the sheets that cover your bare form, “N-nothing, really. Just texting my girlfriends.”

And Logan knows you’re fuckin’ lying right to his face. Because he remembers you told him one time in the beginning: “Sometimes I feel lonely at night. None of my friends are a night owl like me, y’know?” He fuckin’ remembers it all. 

On a random Friday, he decided he had known enough. He drives his way to your diner and there you are. Sitting too close to his liking with some fuckin’ boy; the way those giggles left your lips makes his stomach turn. 

You didn’t know that he was sitting in his car the whole time because he never visited you on a Friday night: “Gotta do somethin’” 

But there he was, gripping the steering wheel too tightly his knuckles turned white. Muttering curse after curse under his heavy breath. Playing over the last few weeks and trying to find what went sideways. But something always went sideways with him. 

He had hoped you would understand that his aloofness was merely a product of his scars and the long life he had lived. But now, seeing you in your apron whilst smiling at another man and pouring Logan's favorite black coffee—he wished he hadn’t been so cold towards you. 

What would he do without you? What would he do if you decided that you didn’t want some old man n’picked that boy? He shakes his head lightly, no, Logan needs you. 

The thought of you leaving him makes him fucking sick and he decided to do something ‘bout it.  

By something, he means having you on his bed, naked and splayed bare in front of him as he laps up and down your dripping pussy. 

“Pussy loves me so much, huh?” Logan murmurs as he squeezes your thighs that clamped around his neck, making you hum a mhmm to the pillow beside you.

Logan’s thick fingers eagerly stroke your clit while he continues licking your folds, earning soft mewls as your head tilts back in pleasure, “Ah- ‘M so close..!” 

“Doin’ so good for your old man.” You’re moaning and gripping his greying hair while you squirm on the sheets, rolling your hips down on his face.

You were so so so close to getting your orgasm before he abruptly pulled away and stood back up on his feet. Taking you by surprise. Delaying you. 

“W-what?”  Your head is still overflowing with your high when you watch him drape his way into the nearest armchair and put on his glasses as he reaches for today’s newspaper. As if he didn’t just have his tongue deep inside you a minute ago. 

Just as you try to catch your breath, you slowly get up in a sitting position to gape at him with your flushed cheeks and aroused body. You were so close and you need him back now. 

After a minute, you begin to notice how he grips the newsprint too tensely, how his brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, how he keeps clenching his jaw on repeat, and how he looks furious and grumpy.

Something’s up. 

“L-Logan?” You call out to him. He clenched his jaw one more time until he could not contain his anger anymore. 

He takes off his glasses in a harsh tug and stares directly at you, “Are you fuckin’ him?” 

The way he looks at you sends electricity into your core, you feel like a deer caught in a headlight, “W-wha—who are you talking about?”

When he gets up from his seat, you can see the bulge on his pants, his stare still burning into you as if a predator catching its prey, “Fuck. That fuckin’ boy from the diner. Did ya’ let him touch what’s mine?” 

Oh. 

Oh.

He’s talking about your ‘friend of a friend’. How did he find that out? You began to wonder in silence. 

You gulp as he gets closer and closer into the bed, making you push your back onto the headboard subconsciously, “Oh- no, no, he— he’s just a friend, Logan.”

He isn’t satisfied with that answer, you know this because the bed squeaks out a creaking sound when he gets his whole weight on the bed, latching and trapping you, “Ya’ thought about leaving me, kiddo?” He rumbles as he squishes your face cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, looking at you sternly as if he’s scolding a misbehaved child, “Thought about leavin’ your old man?”

“N-no!  Never!—” You’re being honest! You would never leave him…you just needed a little more. By sensing his rage that radiates the entire room, you try your best to stare back at him with your doe-eyes, a look that never fails to weaken down his knees.

Then, you build up the courage to cradle his face with your soft palms and stroke his beard, focusing on the greying parts. “Just a friend, Logan. ‘Would never leave you.” Your voice comes out as a whisper but it successfully eases him down. You can hear his breath steadying after a while. 

He closes his eyes as he lurks forward towards you, greedily locking his lips onto yours, “Was so fuckin’ mad.” As he pulls away to mumble, you keep pampering kisses on his face—to assure him that you do want him and him only. 

He pulls down his pants and lets his cock spring free to his stomach. A sight of pre-cum on his heavy tip and the grith of his fat cock makes you cry out. 

Logan trails his hands from your face down and down until he reaches your pussy. It’s still as wet as he delayed it a few moments ago. His calloused finger probes at your entrance, making you whimper into his mouth. 

“This is all f’me, little girl?” He keeps teasing your folds in one hand while pinching your peaking nipples with his other hand. All while still looking at you oh, so hungrily. 

“Y-yes! All for you. No one else—” You fail to finish your sentence when he enters one finger into your heat, placing kisses on your collarbones and mumbling mhmm onto your skin.

You can’t hold it anymore since he delayed your orgasm earlier—you’d do anything, “Pleasepleaseplease, need’a cum, please!” 

The squelching sound of his finger moving in and out, in and out of your cunt didn’t help either. You’re staring at him lust-filled and dumbfounded; you wish he could just read your mind.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He removes his finger and brings it to his mouth, swirling it around his tongue to savor you, “Tastes so sweet too.” 

“Where d’ya want me?”

You whimper pathetically at his words while making grabby hands at him. “I-inside, pleasepleas—” At this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

In fact, you don’t even know anything…

“Don’t got any rubber, kid. Can’t fuck you, y’know?” Logan is fucking a liar. He threw all the condoms he had into the trash bin this morning for this sole purpose. You mumbles a small ‘wha’ into his face because he delays you over and over just for him to delay you again? 

No, no, no—you gotta have him now. 

You look at him like he’s the only man - like nothing matters but him and he’s making you furrow your brows in sadness, in desperation. 

So then,

“I-it’s okay… you can- still-if you want to. I’ll let you.” 

Bingo. 

Just how Logan wants this to go. Because again, out of your awareness, this is how Logan punishes you. For making him so jealous he can barely get any sleep, for pulling away from him the entire week that he can only jerk his cock off to your pink ribboned panties (the one that you left on his house), and for making him think about you every second he’s awake because you’re his air.

He was so fucking pissed—but now, he feels that he had won already. 

“Mhm, no can do, princess. Don’t wan’ you to regret it.” Your face fell into disappointment, can’t he see how much you want this? How much you need him? “‘S alright, yeah?” He says and earns a whiny protest from you. 

Tears begin to build up in your eyes as you stutter over your words. All you’ve got is sobs because you’re so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight. You can only call out his name, trying to get his attention and affection. 

“Logan.” You’re squirming on the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing his body against yours— making him pull an indifferent look to continue on his act.  

“Next time, alright, kiddo?” He kisses the tip of your nose as a decoy. 

“N-no! Now! Please, Logan. Now, please—” You move your hips upwards and make his tip kiss your wetness. He begins to lose his composure when you wrap your small fingers around his cock. Logan grunts and lurches forward because he’s just an old man who needs you. There’s little he can do.

“Wan’ you inside…” You whisper breathlessly as you move your hands up and down on him the way he loves it, “‘S okay, Dada, I promise.” Your thumb swirls around his cockhead before bringing him closer and closer to where you want him until the tip pushes inside your aching folds, “‘Just pull out, okay?” 

Logan grins at you, showing his wrinkles. Oh, he won’t pull out. He knows he won’t. 

This is the climax of his ‘punishment’. Yes, he’s a bad man, the worst kind of man. But this is his only way to keep you, don’t you see? To make sure you won’t leave him, to make sure shit like yesterday won’t happen again. 

He bumps his nose into yours and kisses your forehead, “Y’sure, baby?” 

And you just let out a ‘yes’ because you just need him so so so badly. He nudges forward, in in in, until he’s buried inside of you—then he kisses your lips again. It’s so hot because he has never fucked you like this before, so raw and deep. After feeling your velvety walls, he knows he will never let you go. 

He starts a cruel pace and jolts you; your cute tits jiggle every time he thrusts inside—he’s sure that you’re made for him, to be with him. Put on this place to be his pretty baby and to have his baby. 

“Ya’ll let that boy do this to ya? Mm?” You shake your head rapidly at his question, hoping he’ll understand. And he does. “T-Tha’ right. Pussy’s glad to see me - loves me.” 

Your eyes squeezed so tight but he can’t stop, not when you’re squelching ‘round him and gripping him as if he’d disappear, “My good little girl - fuck - fuckin’ love you.” He confessed while burying his face on your neck and the only thing he has on his mind is puttin’ a baby in you.

It’s the truth: he loves you. More than anything–more than himself. He just doesn’t know how to show it in a normal way.

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts—your moan gets louder and louder and louder. Logan takes your hands, interlinking your fingers together and kissing your knuckles.

You make these pathetic little noises, ah ah ahs, and he knows you’re close. Now is the time to do his final act, “Y’know why it feels so good, kid? 

He touching you everywhere: pinching your nipples and holding you by your throat,  “‘S ‘cause you’re fucking a real man, baby.”

“Y-yeah! Jus’ need a man—need you—” Logan nearly cums right there and then when he sees how tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him in pure admiration—like you worship him. Again, just the way he wanted it.

Your shaky voice as a newborn fawn reminds him what he’s here for, what his punishment is to you.

“F-fuck. Gonna pull out soon, darlin’”

What? It’s too soon for you and your vice grip somehow manages to get stronger around him. He can barely withdraw before you squeeze your walls so deliciously and wrap your legs tighter; ankles locking his hips onto yours.  

“N-no! Don’t- don’t go anywhere— Staystaysta—” Logan sighs in relief. You ate up all his acts. It’s working. 

His palms move to your waist to work himself deeper in you, hitting that gummy spot that he knows will make you sob.

“Wha’dya mean no? Logan asks, “D-don’t wanna knock you up, kiddo.” Oh, but he does! He does. He does. “Gotta pull out. You don’t want that, ‘kay?” 

“I-I do! I do.” You finally plead to him with your soft voice. “I wan’ it..” 

Logan can’t last any second longer but it’s okay because you’re so close to getting to where he wants you.

He snarls a ‘Fuck’ under his breath and, “Gonna get ya’ pregnant, sweets.” His mouth gets to your neck and starts leaving dark bruises on your silky skin, “S’that what you want? My baby, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You squeak up while meeting down his thrusts, “Yeahyeahyea—gimme a baby.” You continue your mindless babble, your brain is empty except for the thoughts of him. “Fill me up, fill me up…” It’s becoming a plea. 

“I’ll fill you up, sweet girl.”

And he’s gone. Lips latching onto yours as you both reach ecstasy. Logan fucks you through it—fucks his seed so deep in you so it fuckin’ takes.

He wished he’d feel guilty as a sick old man for ruining you and your life—but here you are, milking him for all he’s got and telling him that you love him too.

You’re gorgeously unaware that he’s punishing you the entire time; you’re too fucked up when he’s spilling warm ropes of his cum on your walls. He pulls out slowly, staring at the white strings that gush out of your wet hole before plugging himself to make sure it takes.

Logan thinks everything’s fine because he’s got his assurance:  that you’re never going to leave him—that now you’re fully his—and that he has won. 

[baby-yongbok]

Fixation

Hwang Hyunjin x Afab!Reader

✮ Genre - Explicit (non-idol) - Punk!Hyunjin x Punk!Reader ✮ WC: 3.8k ✧ Masterlist ✧

✮ Summary: Hyunjin is obsessed with your mouth.

✮ CW: Alcohol usage [By both reader and Hyunjin.], Mention of marijuana [For like 10 seconds in the very beginning], Spit play? [Kinda? You'll see] , Public affection (I think that's all)

✮ A/N: This look on Hyunjin is my absolute favorite from the comeback and it kinda gives me punk rock vibes? So I tried that out and idk if I aced it but I did it so boom. I hope that you enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

“Who the fuck is throwing this party anyway?” Hyunjin ashes the weak blunt that you got from god knows where as you’re rummaging through his closet. “Does it matter?”

You pull out the top you were searching for and throw it on his bed next to where he’s laid out. You strip your shirt, leaving you in your flimsy bra as you pick the new shirt off of the hanger. Hyunjin isn’t phased by this one bit, you’ve been friends for long enough for him to have seen your tits a million times. 

“Nah, just curious.” He sits up at the head of his bed with one leg hanging off the edge and watches as you try to make his top work with the skin tight skirt you have on. “You’re going out with Seungmin, right?” 

“Yeah, gonna hit some party that Amelia told him about.” 

“Is she gonna be there?” You shrug, grabbing your bag and rummaging through it. “Cause you know that he’ll leave you if she’s there. He’s down bad for her.”

“Everybody fucking knows that.” You finally find your lip gloss and quickly unscrew the top and lean towards the mirror. Hyunjin watches as you apply it. It’s tinted red and shiny and it makes his cock twitch in his pants. 

He doesn’t know when it started but he’s been obsessed with your mouth for awhile. He can’t help but to stare at your lips when you’re talking, eating, sipping some of his drink or anything in between. 

It’s like his brain short circuits every time that he glances down at them but it’s even worse when you have on lipstick or lip gloss. That alone gets him as hard as damn rock. “They’ll probably fuck in the bathroom or something.” You pop your lips together to distribute the gloss and clean up the corners. 

“Shit.” You glance at the time on your phone when you go to put your lip gloss away. “I gotta go, he called me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grab your stuff and start towards the door of Hyunjin’s tiny apartment. 

“Call me if you need me.” He yells from his spot on the bed. He would’ve walked you out but then you’d see that he's completely bricked up. He takes a deep breath once the door shuts and stares up at the ceiling. It’s become a routine for him to touch himself once you leave his place. He’s always so pent up from watching you that he has to get it all out. 

He could tell you about this. He could just kiss you and indulge in every dirty desire he has but he just hasn’t yet. Your friend group is a bit unique. Very few of you are in official relationships and those of you who aren’t will often kiss or sleep with each other with no strings attached. 

He knows that you’ve kissed and even fucked Seungmin. You’ve kissed his friend Felix plenty of times and he’s positive that you and Minho have a recurring situationship going on. Those are all the things that come to mind right away but he knows that there’s more to your history and he won't even get started on his.

He gets up to lock his door and heads back over to his bed as he palms himself. He wishes that he’d just tell you, he’s sure that you wouldn’t mind helping him out. Hell, you’d probably enjoy it. 

He’s crawling back onto his bed when something catches his eye at the end of it. He stares at it for a second before reaching forward and picking it up. It’s your lip gloss. You must’ve missed the pocket when you went to put it back in your bag. 

Hyunjin takes the tube between his fingers and stares at it. This is the exact gloss that you have on right now. Your pretty lips are red and shiny and he wants them so badly. 

He doesn’t know when he started twisting the cap off but the fuzzy applicator wand is in his hand and on his lips when he snaps back to reality. He moans as he brushes the gloss onto his bottom lip, he sits on his knees in the middle of his bed with his eyes closed. He imagines you putting it on him. He imagines that you let him use it after you and he’s moaning again. 

He fully applies it and rubs his lips together before closing the tube and letting it fall to the sheets below him as he falls back against his pillows, eyes still closed as he quickly unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down his thighs. He groans as he slides his hand down his body, feeling the slick gloss on his lips and imagining that you’re next to him, watching him.

He gasps when his hand wraps around his cock. He rubs his lips together to get a better feel of the gloss and brings his hand up to his face just as he thinks you would. “Baby, please.” He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, smearing the sticky pigment a bit and groaning into the air when his palm runs over his tip. 

“You’re mouth, I wan’ your mouth.” He runs his middle finger over the sticky mess he’s created and slips it into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the digit sloppily before adding his pointer finger to the mix. He imagines that this is what your lips would feel like wrapped around his cock. He imagines your pretty lip gloss staining his shirt and his sheets and his skin. 

He moans around his fingers while his other hand works his leaking cock. He’s moving too fast to savor the feeling, each stroke of his fist gets him closer to the edge and has him whimpering. He doesn’t want this to end, he doesn’t want to open his eyes and let you go. He doesn’t want to cum yet but your mouth, you’re fucking mouth would feel so good that he can’t help it.

His mouth falls open in a loud moan and he slides his spit slick fingers out and down to join his other hand around his cock. “Like that, like that, baby.” He humps up into his fists with his jaw clenched tight and he’s spilling his cum over his knuckles before he can even say a word.

 His grip loosens as he attempts to catch his breath. The image of you vanishes from behind his eyes and he reluctantly allows them to flutter open. He looks down at the mess he’s made and groans at the sight of his cum running over the red ring of gloss staining his fingers. “Shit.” 

He throws his head back and stares. He can’t keep imagining this, he needs to tell you. He needs to do something.  

Hyunjin repeats yesterday's actions the next morning. He slathered on the shiny gloss and fucked his fleshlight while kissing his own hand and pretending it was you. The red stains are still faintly on the back of his hand when he arrives at the party later that night. He doesn’t know who the fuck is throwing it but he can say that it’s an absolute rager. The walls are graffitied and the loud rock music floating through the air is loud enough to ensure that he’ll need a hearing aid by age thirty. 

The couches are littered with people he’s never met before making out with people he’s never seen in his life. He heads to the kitchen to grab a drink of whatever looks good and then heads back into the crowd in search of you and the rest of his friends. 

He finds you all in the far corner, huddled together with some of you laughing and some of you making out. He pushes past Felix who’s currently in a threeway lip lock with Changbin and his girlfriend to get to you. You’re sitting on Seungmin’s lap with a drink in your hand. He smiles up at you as you laugh loudly at something he just whispered and Hyunjin’s eyes go right to your lips. He needs to make a move tonight.

He sits on the arm of the couch next to the two of you and takes a peek into your drink. “How many has she had?” He asks Seungmin as you smile back at him. “I've lost count.”

“Hyunjinnie!” You tilt your head back to see him better and pucker your lips towards him. Hyunjin freezes, staring down at your lips behind his red tinted glasses. “No kiss?”

You've never kissed him before. Ever. You've never offered him a kiss until today, it must be the alcohol.

“Since when do you kiss me?” He tries to sound playful. He tries to smile at your upside-down pout but he's struggling. He should've kissed you. 

“Since today.” Seungmin sits you up before You can pucker your lips towards Hyunjin again. “Sit fucking still, whore.”

You scoff, yelling something at Seungmin that makes him smile as he sips from your cup.

While you're fussing at your friend Hyunjin’s unfocused gaze is darting around the crowded space. He stares over at Felix who's now in a heated lip lock with some girl who's name he can never remember and then to Jisung and his girlfriend who look like they’re one step away from fucking in front of everyone. 

His eyes darted from person to person, kissing, laughing, sipping. He sees them all but he's thinking about you. He wants you. 

“Hyunjin.” His gaze snaps over to Seungmin as the sound of a glass bottle crashing against the wall echoes through the air. Typical shit. “Take her for a bit? I gotta do something.” 

Seungmin stands with you in his arms and Hyunjin slips into his spot on the couch. The younger sits you in Hyunjin’s lap before rushing off into the crowd of gyrating bodies. 

Hyunjin squints beyond his glasses and finds the reason for Seungmin’s sudden departure. Amelia is here, he's gonna be gone for more than a bit.

“Hyuneeee.” You whine at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I want another drink.”

“I don't think you should have another drink, darling.” He stares up at you from where he's slouched into the worn cushions. Your legs are draped over his, your ass is on his thigh and his arm is wrapped around you. 

You look good tonight. Your leather tube top and tattered jeans are a masterpiece that he'd proudly strip from you if he could work up the courage. 

Even with you looking this good. Even with you sitting on him like this he can't pull his gaze away from your lips. They're black tonight. Shiny with a mix of midnight lipstick and some sparkly gloss. Your tongue peeks between them, adding a bit of pink to the mix and he swears that he could take you right here. He could risk it all right now. 

“I just want one more drink.” You pout, pushing your bottom lip out at him. “Tequila or Hennessey, just one more.”

He shakes his head, earning a whine from you. “You're wasted.” He squeezes the exposed skin of your waist as he holds you tighter in case you decide to try to escape. 

“Here.” Minho's voice breaks through your conversation from beside you. He offers you his cup filled halfway with something that Hyunjin can smell from his spot beneath you. 

“What the hell is that?” Minho smiles down at Hyunjin then over at you. “It's called a Hell Bomb. Jeongin made it. I don't like Henny though.”

“Yes you do.” You smile up at him, staring at him upside-down like you did to Hyunjin earlier. “Not as much as you like it.” 

Minho leans in and kisses your chin. Hyunjin holds his breath as he watches you giggle at the exchange. He silently prays that he doesn't kiss you. Please don't. 

“I like tasting it off of you though, so bottoms up, kitty.” You hold eye contact with Minho as you lift the cup to your lips, some of the drink spills down the slope of your throat and Hyunjin watches it as it travels down to the valley of your breasts. Oh, what he'd do to clean you up. “That’s my girl. You better watch her, Hyunjin. She'll be gone after this.”

With a pat on the shoulder and a suggestive glance to the both of you Minho slips into the crowd and disappears. 

You're still drinking when he leaves and Hyunjin has to pry the cup from your hand to get you to slow down. He mixes your drink with his Vodka that he grabbed earlier and throws your cup on the floor by his feet. “Hey!”

“You're not drinking that by yourself. We'll share it.” He takes a couple of gulps from the cocktail with a furrowed brow as it burns on the way down. This shit really is hell. “You'll be ghost if you do this alone.”

“But you'll take care of me, won't you, Hyunjinnie?” You move into him, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“I got you.” He mumbles back as he takes another hit of the drink. He's gonna need a lot of this to get through the night. 

They just kept coming. Once Chan arrived thirty minutes ago with three cases of the most expensive soju he could blow his paycheck on Hyunjin knew he was fucked. 

He let you have one bottle before he cut you off for good. Your neck became jelly after the third swig and you've been mumbling in his ear ever since. 

He took that bottle from you and finished it. Then he had two more right after to distract himself from the way that your lips brushing against his neck makes his cock chub up. Now he's on his fourth bottle of soju and you're on your second bottle of water. 

“Your lips are pretty.” You mumble as you sit up and stare down at his mouth. “Your lip gloss looks like mine.”

“Does It?” He rubs his lips together, evening out the red tint. “Yeah but I lost it.”

“Mm that sucks. It looked pretty on you.” You try your best to sit up and shift yourself in his lap but your coordination is shot. Hyunjin helps you move in his lap, he supports you until you end up how you wanted. You're straddling his waist, your legs are on either side of him and your core is over his cock. He takes another sip of soju once you settle. 

“You like my lips too?” He should lie, right? “I think yours are so pretty.” Fuck. 

You smile, it's lazy and tainted with alcohol but it's fucking dizzying. Your fingers sneak up to Hyunjin's face to steal his glasses and he lets you. You slip them on and stare down at him. 

“They look better on you.” He coos, his hands creep up your thighs and plant themselves on your hips and you move involuntarily into the touch. You grind over his chubbed up cock and he sighs into the cloudy air to try and control himself. “Drink more water, baby.”

“Gimme.” He grabs the bottle next to him, unscrewing the top and handing it to you but you refuse it. “Pour it.” 

You tip your head back with parted lips and your tongue sticking out. Your eyes are closed and Hyunjin moans. He fucking moans at the sight your your mouth open for him and he wishes that he was filling it up with something different. 

He places a finger under your chin to keep you steady and waterfalls into your mouth. You swallow as he pours and he watches the way that your throat moves. You'd swallow his load so well, you'd take his cock like a fucking pro. 

A bit of water runs over your bottom lip and down your neck as he pulls away. He’s fighting his demons again as he watches the water trail down your skin, it takes everything in him not to clean it up for you. He stopped himself but he won't be so lucky next time. 

“Thank you.” You bat your lashes at him, staring down over his shades. “Your turn?”

“My turn?” You hum, picking up his bottle of Soju from the table next to you. “Lemme feed it to you.”

“Are you tryna get me fucked up?” He smirks up at you and you down at him. 

 “Head back.” He parts his lips slightly and you place a finger under his chin like he did to you. His eyes stay on yours the entire. Studying every move you make.

“Open.” Your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, smearing his - your - red gloss onto his chin. He opens his mouth slowly, sticking the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip just a bit. 

“Mhm” You bring his bottle up to your lips and sip at the clear liquid until you're content with what’s in your mouth. Hyunjin is about to protest when you bring the bottle up to your lips but he gets lost in the way that your black gloss stains the cloudy glass. 

You set the glass back onto the table and lean up on your knees to line your mouth up with his. His dark eyes bore into yours as he realizes what's about to happen. His hands slip up and down the curve of your waist then press into the flesh when you allow the sweet liquid to waterfall into his open mouth. 

His eyes flutter shut with a whimper as his mouth fills with what you're giving him. He hooks his thumbs into your belt loops and pulls you forward so that you're hovering right over his half hard cock. His self control is fading as the stream from your mouth to his ends. 

As it tapers off a bit of soju misses his mouth and runs down his cheek. It doesn’t get far before you're licking it up, trailing it back up to his mouth and slipping your tongue against his in one swift motion.   

Hyunjin gasps against you before a more primal sound follows. You reciprocate it, sinking back down onto his lap and rocking yourself over him. 

He’s swallowing hard and drinking in every ounce of you that you're offering. He feels dizzy with how hard his lips are pressing to yours. It’s a messy exchange of teeth and tongue that has you both exhaling hard through your noses. It's more intoxicating than anything he's had tonight. It tastes better than the most expensive soju he could think of.

“You -'' Hyunjin breathes out strangled syllables between sloppy drags of your tongue. He welcomes every searing lick into his mouth, prioritizing tasting you over speaking. “Wait.”

He pushes you back, forcing your lips off of his with a sloppy smack that draws Felix's attention from the other couch. “You're fucking wasted.” 

“I know what I'm doing.” You push his red sweater back off of his shoulders, exposing the bare skin underneath and he lets you. “I know what I want and it's you.”

“You're wasted, I'm fuckin wasted we can't - ‘m not gonna fuck you like this.”

You push his sweater down to his elbows and run your hands back up the newly exposed skin. Your hands travel down his stomach, running over the ribbed texture of his tank top before slipping underneath the fabric. 

“Aye, I'm not gonna -” 

“You don't have to.” You cut him off, rocking over him again to get him to calm down. “You don't have to fuck me tonight. Don't even have to kiss me again.”

Your nails scratch over his stomach, it's toned and soft to the touch. You run your hands over his chest, slowing your touch when you brush over his nipples. He squirms beneath you, his hands holding onto your forearms in a half minded attempt to stop you. 

“Just let me mark you up, yeah?” You lean into his neck, keeping your hands on his stomach under his top. “Let me claim you for later, is that okay, Hyunjinnie?”

He's nodding before he can even comprehend it. He's mumbling confirmations while the soju in his system seemingly evaporates under your touch. How could he say no? Your practically promising to fuck him later. 

“Hold still.” Your lips press to his neck right over his pulse. You can feel it pick up as you leave The sticky black mark behind. You place another kiss right under that one and then another and another. You trail marks over the side of his neck and down his shoulder. You make out with his bicep as you squeeze his sides under his shirt. 

“I can't - fuck, baby. I really like you kissin’ on me like that” You sit up, smiling at him with smeared black lipstick down your chin and smudging onto your cheeks. Hyunjin doesn't look Any better. His mouth is smudged in a mess of glossy red and black and his skin is stained with the color of you. 

“Your mouth is so pretty like that.” Hyunjin's hand cups the side of your face and smears more of the dark pigment over your cheeks. “I wanna take you right here. I wanna get you on your knees so badly.”

“You wanna fuck me right here?” You trail kisses down his wrist, pushing his sleeve up his arm to give you more canvas space. 

“Fuck, yes.” He kicks his head back in a moan. “Wanna see those pretty lips stretch over my cock.” 

“You think I can fit it all in my mouth?” You press down into him. “You feel so big.”

“You can take it, baby.” Your lips start marking up the other side of his neck now, pressing smudged kisses into his clean flesh. “I know you'll take it like such a good fucking girl, won't you? Gonna let me fuck this throat later? Gonna come over tomorrow and let me do everything I want to you.”

“I'll be a good girl for you. The best fuck you ever had.” His hand runs up the back of your neck, lacing in your hair and scratching at your scalp as you mark him. Kissing him dangerously close to his mouth and testing the ounce of self control he has left. 

“Oh, you will be. I know you will be, I've thought about you so much. I've thought about those lips and that cunt and just fucking ruining you.” Hyunjin is rambling. His deepest secret is spilling over the corners of his lips and soaking into you, you milk it all from him with a smile. 

It looks like leaving your lip gloss at his place worked after all. 

Please Like, Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

Perm. Tag List:

@kayleefriedchicken

@compersian @kibs-and-bits @lixiluvs @armystay89 @lghtdarling

@teddy-stay , @baconcupcakes123, @moonchild9350 ,

@krayzieestay, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @gho-ster , @lghtdarling

[loulovingho]

“Tommy!” Eddie cheered, lifting his drink toward the sky as he spotted his friend walking toward him. “Whatcha doin' here, Man?”

“Figured I'd stop by and see how you were doing, Bud,” Tommy replied. He gave Eddie a pat on the back as he sat down in the empty seat next to him. “You come here alone?”

“Mhm. Needed ta get out. House's too quiet.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Too long,” the bartender interrupted as he walked by. “Was about to cut him off. I already took his keys.”

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed, looking around the bar counter. “Hey! You took my keys.”

“I got him,” Tommy said, giving the bartender a nod. “I gotta say, at least you're talking better than you're texting. I was worried.”

Eddie's face scrunched up in confusion. “Huh? I never did texted you.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Tommy fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and went to his messages. “'Buuuuuuuck, lezz drink, Buddy.' Then five minutes later, 'Bruck, why rn't you at bar? I waiting.' A good two minutes after that you sent me your location with an angry emoji. Then, and this is my personal favorite, 'Loser too busy kissy kissy with Tummy to be a friendship.'”

"Huh. Thought I was textin' Buck.”

“Yeah, I pieced that together.”

“So where's Buck if you're not kissy kissy?” Eddie asked, his final drink sloshing over his fingers as he attempted to bring it to his lips.

Tommy took the drink from Eddie and set it back on the counter. “Evan is watching Jee overnight so Howie and Maddie can have a night away. So, you wanna talk about whatever's bothering you? I mean, I could take a guess, but...”

“Nah. No, no, nope. I wanna,” Eddie pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Lessgo karaoke, Tomboy-”

“We're not calling me that.”

“I wanna sing to the rooftops,” Eddie continued, his words slurring more and more with each sentence. “I wanna. I wanna be, you know, be free, Tommy. I don't have a rea-,” he hiccuped, “reason to get back home.”

“Really? Seems like that's exactly where you need to be right now.”

Eddie's eyes widened, like he'd thought of the best idea in the entire world. “Let's go to Peeping Tom! That's your name!”

“Peeping Tom is a gay bar, Eddie.”

“I don judge.”

“A very kinky, fully nude gay bar,” Tommy clarified.

Eddie squinted, deep in thought. “No karaoke?”

“No karaoke.”

“Well, then were we go? Don't say home!”

“Home.”

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned, allowing Tommy to wrap an arm around his back and help him up. “You're like a no- no fun dad. Wish I'd texted fun dad.”

Tommy gripped onto Eddie tighter as he stumbled while taking a step. He sighed. “Maybe next time.”

*****

When Eddie woke up the next morning it was to a pounding headache and blinding sunlight coming through his window. He was nauseous and his mouth tasted like a mixture of gasoline and mouthwash.

He laid there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what happened that made him feel so unbelievably ill.

After a few failed attempts, he finally rolled out of bed and made his way into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee.

He froze when he walked through the door to see Tommy sitting there, reading the newspaper.

“Good... morning?” Eddie started, confused.

Tommy set the paper down. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“I- I think so, I guess. It's a little blurry.”

Tommy hummed. “Not surprising. Coffee just finished, if you want some. Your couch is not comfortable, by the way.”

“Buck's never complained.”

“Yeah, well, he's easier to please than I am.”

Eddie was too hungover for this. He had so many questions, but for some reason the first one out of his mouth was: “Where'd you put my shoes?”

“In your closet.”

He grabbed himself a cup for some coffee. “My keys?”

“We have to go pick them up at the bar today, along with your car, obviously.”

“You didn't close my curtains last night. Woke up thinking I was being interrogated by Ice T.”

Tommy sighed, leaning back in his seat. “'Thank you so much for getting me home safely, Tommy. Did it hurt your back having to drag me into the house while I belted out Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of my lungs?'” He stood, walking over to Eddie and taking the coffee out of his hand, drinking a big sip. “Thank you for asking, Eddie. I think my back will be okay, but my ears will never recover.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, turning to fix himself another cup. “Thank you for getting me home safely, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Mhm. No problem.” Tommy returned to his seat and Eddie joined him at the table. They sat in silence for a couple minutes, taking small sips of their drinks.

Eventually, Tommy set his cup down a little harder than normal, getting Eddie's attention with the clinking sound. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About what? How your coffee tastes like cigarette sludge?”

“I'll take that as a no then.” Tommy checked his watch. “The bar doesn't open until three. Want me to stop by and pick you up then?”

Eddie shook his head. “I can just get an Uber, Man, thanks though.”

“Of course. I'll, uh, let you recover.” Tommy stood and went to leave, checking his pocket for his keys and phone.

As he neared the door, Eddie spoke. “Wait,” he said. Tommy turned back to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you sleep on my couch?”

“You're my friend,” he answered simply. “You drank a lot. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” He took a step back toward the table. “Are you okay?”

Eddie cradled the mug in his hands, watching the steam rise from the cup. “You don't... How long has it been? Since you talked to your dad?”

Okay, so Tommy wasn't leaving then.

He came to the table and sat down, taking a moment to think about Eddie's question. “About six years, I think.”

“What did he do?” He looked over at Tommy. “To make you stop talking to him, I mean. Unless you don't wanna get into it. In fact, forget it, I shouldn't-”

“Eddie, it's fine,” Tommy assured him. “I don't mind.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, sitting up straighter. “So? What happened?”

“It wasn't just one thing,” Tommy explained. “It was a lifetime of things. He's... He's not a good man. I think the catalyst was about a year after I came out. I hadn't been home in awhile, so I decided to drive to his place one weekend. When he answered the door he said, 'What the hell are you doing here?' I told him I was coming to see him and he said, 'What's the damn point in that?' I thought about it for a second and realized that was a good question, so I turned around, got in my car, and left. Never looked back.” Eddie seemed to be contemplating his words, and Tommy could tell where this was going. “It's not the same thing, Eddie,” he said, beating Eddie to it.

“What if he doesn't come back? What I did, Tommy, it wasn't... It was bad.”

“You made a mistake.”

“I cheated on my girlfriend with a doppelganger of his mom, Tommy, and he caught me.”

“Granted, it was a big mistake,” Tommy deadpanned. “But, still a mistake. He'll come around. You gotta give him time.”

“People keep telling me that,” Eddie replied with an eye roll. “That he'll come around. But it's been months of nothing. And it seems like no matter what I do, it's not enough.”

“You're trying.”

Eddie huffed. “I'm not sure getting drunk alone at a bar is trying.”

“I think it shows you care, Eddie. And, yeah, that shouldn't become a habit, but you're allowed to be upset. You're allowed to hurt. You made a mistake, but you're a good dad and Christopher knows that. He will come around.”

“And if he doesn't?” Eddie asked, staring over at Tommy.

“Then you keep trying,” Tommy replied. “You never stop trying. Keep being there, keep sending him letters and getting him on Facetime. Go for a visit. Send him texts. I'm not saying you gotta smother him, but never let him forget that you're there. That's the biggest mistake you could ever make.”

“Yeah,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Yeah, you're right. I just... I gotta keep it up. Let him know I'm here, whenever he's ready.”

“Exactly.”

Eddie looked over at the clock on his stove, 11:32 staring back at him. He had no idea he'd slept so long. “Why don't you call Buck, see if he wants to come over and watch a game? Then you can drive me to my car.”

“Oh, you want me to call Evan? Don't you mean fun dad?” Tommy asked, eying Eddie.

It took him a minute, but the memory came back to him. “I did say that, didn't I?”

“You did,” Tommy confirmed. “Which I'm very offended by, by the way. I'm fun!”

Eddie sighed, his head drooping down. “I know you are.”

“I introduced you to karaoke trivia. I've flown you to Vegas.”

“I remember.”

“I never tried to seriously injure you in the name of love.”

“Which I'm very grateful for.”

“I don't have control issues when I have a clipboard in my hand.”

“Are you just gonna keep listing reasons why you're fun?”

“I once shoved three cupcakes in my mouth at once! Nearly choked to death, but Evan whacked me on the back and everything went down just fine.”

Eddie stood with his mug in hand, pointing toward the living room, “I'm gonna go to the couch. Get more comfortable.”

Tommy followed behind, pulling out his phone to call Buck. “I'll let Evan tell you who bowled a 230 last week. Hint: it was me!”

[bennitastisch]

i have to go to sleep now but the problem is that i only have to go to sleep now bc ill have to get up early the next few days but not tomorrow so im bedtime-revenging pretty hardcore and i can even tell myself i have to sleep or otherwise ill be tired for my appointment tomorrow

[thebluester2020]

[TWST] Kinktober Day 13: "Masturbation"

Summary: With you being the only girl on campus, Leona already had an idea that there would be competition! Luckily for him however, catching you alone at night proved to be his lucky break.

Warning(s): Solo Masturbation (Leona fingers the reader), Teasing, Slight Bullying (I got a thing for Leona being mean man), Fingering, Leona being possessive (in kinda a jealous way tbh).

Side Note(s): Okay so a few things mostly in regards to how I'm going to treat anything I write for TWST from now on. One, I'm going to write as if Night Raven College was an actual college. For the sake of me being confused as to what's what regarding the school system, I gotta do what I gotta do in order to help myself 💀.

Two— y'all I gotta update my yuu oc's sheet. I'm seeing so many fancy ones on here that it's giving me major inspo.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself at first but...Leona Kingscholar had a crush.

Sure, it was easy to say that it was only a matter of time before he gained one on you, especially when you were the only girl on campus but he thought he had more strength of will than that! So many others had a crush on you, too many fools lamenting about how they either wanted to date you or sleep with you. It was becoming annoying at this rate, and at first? Leona couldn't wait to hear the news that Headmaster Crowley had finally found your home and sent you back, just so he could stop hearing students in SavannaClaw constantly groaning about you.

Then it began to divulge into something else.

One class period, strangely enough, you were without your cat. In every class he had shared with you prior, you were always preoccupied with the cat and seemed to feed off his mischief and antics. Like a little duckling trying to mimic every single living thing in order to find its place.

Bothersome.

But he ignored it well enough until he witnessed you being...focused for once. And there, he gained a strange warmth in his chest as he found himself staring, admiring your gracefulness as you sat in your chair and the way you showed a surprising amount of intelligence, one that was usually hidden away by how much you were coddling the only other member of that Ramshackle Dorm. Sure, he didn't have much room to admire nor talk about someone being focused with how little he cared for his classes personally but...there was something regal about you in particular being focused.

But, as quick as he felt that warmth blooming, he snuffed it out.

No way was he entering a pointless rat race for one girl when thousands of other students were competing in the same competition.

Until tonight.

When he found you sitting all on your lonesome inside the Botanical Gardens, reading a book no less.

"Herbivore?" He smirked at how fast you responded to the name he had given you.

You quickly closed the book and stood. "L-Leona?" You gulped. "What are you doing out so late?"

"I could ask the same of you," He rose his brow, his gaze going from the book in your hand to the clothes you were wearing. You looked as if you had just rolled out of bed and decided to walk out of your room. "It's dangerous to be out so late, a lot of predators hunt at night and you're easy prey."

You rolled your eyes, deciding to sit back down on the bench and scoot over enough to allow the prince some room to sit if he wished.

Shockingly, he took the silent offer. "Enough of the animal references," You huffed. "It's safe on this campus, much better than my world where I actually need to be afraid." Leona flicked his ear at your wording, he was tempted to press further on your meaning but...he decided to leave the matter for another time. After all, his original reason for being out here was simple. He felt like going out for a nighttime stroll, feel the cool breeze on his skin and all that and maybe taking a small nap here as well.

With you being here although...his plans started to shift a little.

"A romance book?" You slammed your novel shut when Leona pointed out the genre of your book, a blush quickly appearing on your cheeks as you immediately shot a glare to the prince. "Fairytales don't exist herbivore." He chuckled quietly at the growing red on your face.

"For your information, it's not a fairytale. It's a play!" You huffed. "Romeo and Juliet, a tale of forbidden lovers, do you have anything like that in this world?" The beastman shrugged his shoulders, although he was well-versed in different literatures. Romance and forbidden love stories were never his preferred genre to read, to him? It always felt like something to give to young princesses who were hoping that some tall knight would sweep them off of their feet.

He tsked at the very thought of it. "There are plenty of forbidden love stories in this world. Your little book is probably just as predictable as the next one."

"Oh really?"

He nodded his head. "Let me guess...someone dies in the book? Maybe both of them?"

Leona laughed at your silence, causing you to gently shove at his arm at his confidence. Personally, you wouldn't lie to yourself when you said that the idea of a love story appealed to you, especially more so now that you were in a world where magic and princes existed! Hell, you were talking to one right now! However, as you looked at him through the corner of your vision...he wasn't anything like Romeo. He was arrogant, blunt, and a little bit rude. You hadn't forgotten that his ambitious plan lead to you nearly being ran over during the Spelldrive games!

But despite all that? Those very same attributes...they attracted you all the same.

Suddenly, Leona caught a scent in the air, one that made him breathe deeply before exhaling slowly. "What's going on in that head of yours herbivore?" He questioned with a tilt of his head.

"I'm thinking about when you're going to leave and let me continue reading," You lied through your teeth, causing the prince to smirk as he slowly moved closer to you, still giving you ample room to move away in case you were uncomfortable. Yet...as that scent grew sweeter and more potent, it seemed that you were anything but uncomfortable with his presence. "Really?" He pressed. "Something tells me you're thinking about something else herbivore...perhaps this prince can grant it for you."

You twitched a little when Leona suddenly placed a hand on your thigh. The scent of an earthy soap on his body reached your nostrils and, steadily, you began to feel your mind slipping a little.

Until you remembered, you had to hold strong. "...I'm thinking about how much I want you to get away from me." You continued to try and lie, your futile attempts making the prince's smirk grow even more as he continued to laugh.

"Cute," He scoffed. "You know...if you're honest, I'll reward you really nicely." His hand began to move a little, not traveling either upward or downward but only drawing a circle in your skin with his thumb. Your breathing became heavier, the scent of your growing arousal making the prince feel as if he were sipping on the most delectable wine in all the lands. Still, he wanted to hear a word of consent from you before he proceeded.

"Reward?" You panted, gulping before you gained the courage to look Leona in the eyes where his green orbs seemed to almost glow in the darkness. "What...what reward are you talking about?"

"What fun is there in telling you when I can show you?" His thumb stilled as you considered your response. There was little point in denying it to yourself, you could feel that you were absolutely soaked, your sex twitching in anticipation of Leona's touch whilst you could almost feel yourself drowning in the prince's gaze. You wanted to tell yourself that you had no business having sex with a prince, risking the possibility of developing more of an attachment to this world than you already were. But...it was way too hard to think that way when you so badly wanted to feel his warmth. "Show me." You finally whispered.

Finally, Leona's lips found your own before his hand eagerly moved up to your clothed pussy. He laughed against your lips, parting briefly from you as he licked his lips clean of your sweet-tasting lipstick. "Already this wet for me herbivore? All that talk earlier must've been a heap of lies." He then pressed another kiss to your lips before peppering a trail of kisses down your cheek and to the side of your neck. Oh, he was so tempted to mark you right here and right now in this garden but...Leona willed himself to play the long game rather than try to obtain all of his winnings in one single night. He'd get you addicted to his touch first, getting you to beg and plead for him to take you but, as cruel as it would be, he'd deny you. After all, it was more fun to have you come to him rather than him come to you.

"Ah..." You moaned sweetly, the beastman's ears perking to the sound.

"I-It's because you're so d-damn arrogant..." You said breathlessly before you whined at the feeling of cold air hitting your sex when Leona pulled your underwear to the side. The prince ignored your words, too focused on how you squeaked and shuddered each time he kissed you and especially how you grabbed at his shoulders like a lifeline when he began to touch your twitching sex.

"All this just from talking to me, herbivore?" He then trailed his lips back up to your cheek before whispering in your ear. "How shameless..." He continued to lightly scold you before he dipped a finger inside your pussy, your grip upon his shoulders getting tighter from the action.

"And here you were reading a romance novel...did your precious characters do something like this in that little book of yours?"

You shook your head with a whiney 'no' in response. "Oh?" Leona briefly flashed his teeth as he smiled. "You must've been really eager for something like this to happen then," He continued to whisper in your ear as his finger began to lightly thrust in and out of your pussy, the sound of your moans increasing only making the prince's cock strain harder in his pants. But, for the moment, he'd ignore his own desires in other to please you.

"You have a crush on anyone?" Leona lightly nipped your ear.

He felt his ego grow when you shook your head no, he had a completely blank slate to work off of. To make sure that you got addicted to him and no one else. "My lucky day then...I get a cute lil' herbivore to play around with then. It'd be pretty awkward to fuck you with my fingers before you'd leave and smile in your crush's face next." Then, he curled his finger a little, a whine leaving your lips when he suddenly hit your g-spot. At the sound, Leona began to press into that spot with more accuracy, causing you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer to your body.

"L-Leona!" You gasped.

"Tch, you sound like a lioness in heat. All from a little fingering?" He teased. A knot began to form in the pit of your stomach as you continued to clench around Leona's finger at his words, the combination of his typically rude and sarcastic tone mixed with the pleasure he was delivering you making your head spin. Then, Leona added a second finger and his thumb into the mix. The addition of the rubbing against your clit and the increased thickness from the second finger making you whine Leona's name.

He had to hold himself back from cumming in his pants like some teenager at the sound. "F-Fuck—! L-Leona...!" You gasped. "Your fingers...f-feel so good..."

"Yeah?" He placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on your lips. "You're so much more honest when you have a couple of fingers tending to this needy hole of yours, don't you?" He chuckled.

You dumbly nodded your head, your further honesty to his question only making his ego grow as the pace of his thrusts increased. He had to cover your mouth with his hand to help muffle your moans, the feeling of your drool against his palm making the prince hiss at the dirtiness of it all. In this moment, he felt more akin to a thief rather than a prince. Stealing away the purity of the seemingly innocent princess, who was "promised" to her knight. Leona moaned at the thought, and what's more? With the way you called out his name and clung to him like you were begging him to give you pleasure, trying to continue to plead your case for him to give you what you so desperately want, Leona couldn't deny how quickly his desires for you grew.

"So loud herbivore..." He said with an unusually sweet tone as his ears started to move to the sound of your cunt beginning to squelch. Your slick started to stick to Leona's palm and drip down onto the bench, filling the air with the smell of sex as Leona picked up the pace of his fingers even more. "Gonna cum soon? Your drippin'."

You answered with a loud moan as your eyes started to roll to the back of your head while your hips started to thrust onto his fingers in time with his movements. Your cunt tightened around his fingers, making the prince have to put more work into fucking you until...you whined loudly behind his palm, your pussy clenching and unclenching around his fingers rapidly before you finally relaxed as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

When you made a noise of discomfort though, he finally removed his fingers.

"Dirty," He mumbled, spreading his fingers as he lewdly played with your slick before finally sticking the digits into his mouth.

You blushed at the sight, weakly turning your head to the side before Leona snickered and made you face him once more. "Next time...let's do this in my dorm room, hm?"

[arent-i-the-fairest]

Hi! I'm not sure if your request is open but I will still try to do a request and I'm really sorry if I requested something that doesn't go with your rules! So my request is how would the nrc boys react to there s/o going back home? Like Crowley finally found a way to open the portal that will bring them back home, how would they react to it?

(Sorry if my english is bad it's not my first language)

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

author’s note : thank you for the request! off home we go…

i really do wonder what it’ll be like in game when mc finally gets to go back home.

in just the blink of an eye, you were gone, and the portal closed—never to be opened again.

heartslabyul

you leaving was a massive hit to riddle’s heart. he tries to remain the same stern, strong housewarden he’s always been, but there’s no hiding the pain. all much to his distress, he’s noticeably more deflated, there’s less energy in his tone when he speaks, and he zones out when he shouldn’t. he can’t help but wish he spent more time with you and was more affectionate. he should’ve made more time, especially since you were of such high priority to him.

trey struggles to hide his constant sadness. he still has to be a reliable vice housewarden, but it’s hard when everything is weighing so heavily on his mind. he’s always helping others relax, but he can’t seem to get himself in a lighter mood now. how ironic. when he thinks of your relationship, he has some regrets about always being kind of reserved about his feelings. he was a good boyfriend, for sure, but his heart aches thinking about how he never did show the full extent of how much he loves you while he had the chance.

cater finally made a deep, meaningful connection with someone, and it’s over. just like that. and for the first time, a good relationship didn’t end because of him being forced to move. he’d laugh if he wasn’t so heartbroken. he just can’t win. he’ll spend hours every day, nearly every bit of free time he has, scrolling through the hundreds of pictures and posts he made with you. they comfort him, but they’ll never be enough.

ace knew this day would come for a long time. he’s been dreading it, but he’s always just pushed thinking of it away, deep in the back of his mind. can’t avoid it now, though. when you said your goodbyes and left, he confidently told himself he’d take your departure like a champ… that didn’t last long at all. very quickly, he was in shambles. ace stops caring about nearly everything outside of the situation for a while, only doing the bare minimum of what he needs to. he can only think of you. he really, really misses you. he wants you back here. he wants to go on adventures with you again. they were chaotic, but he’d do it all again.

deuce struggles very heavily with his feelings after you’ve left. he tries desperately to pick himself back up, because you wouldn’t want him moping around all the time. that’s right… he has to do good for you. he’ll get back on his feet at some point. and he’ll become the honor student he always said he’d be. he swears on it. and he’ll pursue all the stuff after graduation he wants to do! even though you’re not beside him anymore, he knows you’ll be cheering him on from your world. he’s cheering you on, too.

savanaclaw

leona remembers the way you’d always talk to him about something or do something in the background whenever he tried to nap. he’d always tell you to pipe down so he could enjoy the silence. that silence isn’t so relaxing now that you’re gone. everything in general feels shittier. there’s a lot less of him sleeping and more of him lying down while reflecting. in the times he can fall asleep, he tends to dream of you. his herbivore still gets to bug him in his dreams. he never complains in them. the only way he can be with you now is in that head of his.

naturally, ruggie is crushed. every day alone feels like another stab in the chest, yet he’s gotta keep going on. he has to work hard, get money, and make sure he can eat as always. memories of you always creep into his mind when he’s trying to be at peace. and especially when he’s working. you used to help him around a lot, so of course not having your presence around anymore is very hard to ignore. you better not be slacking off over in your world! but more than that, you better be happy. make all this hurt in his heart at least somewhat worth it.

underneath jack’s uncaring demeanor is a whole lot of longing. he knows the portal can’t be opened again, but he thinks about if it could be a lot. it sure would be nice if it could. wolf beastmen typically only date and have one special someone for their whole lives, and he’s happy you were his. if somehow, some way, you manage to come back, he’s loyally waiting here for you.

octavinelle

azul is completely devastated. he needs to get it together as soon as possible, he knows. but it’s just too difficult. that emotional side of him can’t take this. he finds it difficult to even look at the items you left behind for him, because all he feels when he sees them is misery. the only thing that comes to mind is how he wants you back with him. bringing you into a contract or preventing you from leaving through other means would’ve gone against your trust for him, but he selfishly finds himself wishing he had. he had so many plans for the future with you.

jade, when asked how he’s doing now that you’re gone, always says he’s ‘a bit upset, but managing’… that doesn’t even begin to explain his feelings. he regrets not destroying that portal when he had the chance. he does a remarkable job at continuing to fulfill his duties despite the pain, but he’s constantly burning with longing and frustration on the inside.

floyd will never forgive you for leaving. you didn’t like him enough to stay, huh?! sure, it’s a huge ask to leave your whole world behind, but he kind of convinced himself that you still would’ve done it for him and your other friends. he should’ve grabbed you by the heels and pulled you out of the portal before it was too late. day-to-day life becomes dull. bleak. the things you two used to do together are no longer fun. he comes to realize that the activities themselves weren’t fun. it was you that made every day enjoyable, and he’ll never get to experience that kind of life again.

scarabia

kalim has been feeling kinda guilty. he should be nothing but happy you got to return home, he believes. and he is glad! … but he’s so miserable, too. he wants to remain positive through everything, but all his attempts just keep falling flat. this party is so much fun…! but he’d feel livelier if you were attending. he’s learning so much in this class! … but he wishes he was able to study with you later. his mind just always circles back to you. he surrounds himself with people all the time and has the most fun he can to try coping, but it still all feels wrong. he misses you so much.

jamil got a taste of a happy life, and it’s over. he feels defeated. the day you’d return to your world was something that plagued his mind often. he knew it was coming for a while, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. there’s nothing to be done now—he can’t bring you back here—so he just sort of buries his feelings as he desperately tries to move on. ‘if i just focus on working and my duties, sooner or later, i’ll feel at least somewhat normal again,’ he tells himself. ‘there’s no time to be sad anyways.’ he’ll never move on, though. he couldn’t when you meant so much to him.

pomefiore

you’re gone. vil hates to mope, but he can’t escape it. his head and heart both ache constantly as he gets through days as best as he can manage. routinely, he lets all the sadness out at the end of the day, when he’s alone. all this crying is unbefitting of him, but it’d be worse for him if he kept it all bottled up. and he did always lecture you about the importance of both a healthy mind and body, so he can’t be a hypocrite now. he wonders how you’re doing all on your own…

rook mourns like you’ve died rather than gone home. the circumstances feel somewhat similar to him, though. wouldn’t you agree? think of it: he can’t speak with you, spend all day by your side, or so much as see your beautiful face again. all he has left is the many photos he took of you, as well as the journals about you he had spent time working on and collecting. and he’ll continue to write and think about you. truly, you’re the most beautiful person in every sense to him. you’ll be his muse forever.

epel is so bitter. he didn’t give you an easy time when he heard of your decision to leave, as well as the time leading up to your actual departure. he kept to himself more, sulking. when the time came for you two to say your goodbyes, all his tears of frustration and sadness came out. he really was wishing you’d stay forever. he understands that you can’t abandon your world, but he’s still so frustrated that there’s not a solution where both of you can be happy.

ignihyde

idia doesn’t know how he could even begin to get through this. he wants to just shut down, but he can’t even do that. every second of every day, he’s thinking of you. there’s hardly any coping with video games or media he likes, because he can’t take his mind off everything. he wanted to be considerate of your feelings, so he let you leave, despite the thought of being without you ever again making him nauseous. if he could go back in time and beg for you to stay instead, he would.

diasomnia

malleus is in a constant state of pain and longing. forgive him for his selfishness, but if things went how he truly wished, that portal would’ve never been opened. he spends a lot of time in ramshackle, reminiscing. he’s tempted to take the items left behind by you—incomplete letters addressed to him, pillows, even objects as mundane as your pencils—but he doesn’t. he leaves them just as they are, lying in your dorm. it makes it look as though you still live here. as if you’d come in at any time, and the two of you could spend another evening together.

lilia tries to think and act maturely about your departure. he had been emotionally preparing himself for it ages beforehand… but unfortunately, it still hadn’t cushioned the blow very much at all. he’s glad you get to reunite with your world, and he doesn’t want to sulk, but it hurts. with hundreds of years of being alive, lilia has made lots of memories, both joyful and sad. you certainly go down as both. how painful it is to think of how you’re gone now... but. he’s glad he met you.

sebek, for a while, holds almost a kind of resentment towards you. you’ve left him. logically, he knows he shouldn’t have expected you to leave your world behind for your life here in twisted wonderland, but he’s still just so bitter. it takes a lot of effort from the people around him to talk him out of that bitterness. but eventually, he starts to crack. he gave you quite a hard time about your decision to leave, and the guilt is getting to him. he thinks about your relationship often. he loves you a lot, and he’s sorry he was never quite good at expressing it properly while he had the chance.

silver is as heartbroken as you’d imagine. the good in his heart always tells him to be happy that you’ve returned to your world. your home, that you’ve been waiting for so long to go back to. it helps. as much of a nuisance his constant dozing off is to him, he’s now able to find a sort of comfort in it. that’s because he dreams of you a lot. and even if it’s not the real, physical you that he’s talking to, touching, and spending time with in those dreams, he can only take what he can get now. it hurts a little more each time he wakes up.

[corvidcrossbow]

Since I made a post about Mother's Day w/ Daryl, I gotta make a Father's Day one too.

For obvious reasons, he didn't like Father's Day (me neither Daryl). It felt insulting to see people celebrating their dads, felt so forced and unfair, stupid even. How come other people got to have fathers who were there for them and cared for them while he didn't? What made him undeserving of that? (Mother's Day was already hard enough when he was young, sitting in class and nearly trembling from how hard he was straining himself to not cry while those around him made cards and talked about their plans for the weekend with their moms) So he tried to push the existence of the holiday out of his mind.

Fatherhood was never something he pictured. Even when the hypothetical idea of kids crossed his mind, he was sure it would never be plausible: he'd just follow footsteps and end up some doped up abusive deadbeat as well. Although he never pictured an apocalypse with the undead either, and that pushed the idea of fatherhood even further into a realm of impossibility.

So both those happening, and someone as perfect as you being directly involved in it, was leagues outside his imagination.

The first Father's Day after your child was born was rough. He enjoyed how the collapse of society made people lose track of the dates, too occupied with survival to care about minor things like this. But with the stability Alexandria provided, over time celebrations reintegrated into routines, this included, and he was not fond of the reminder.

He didn't mention the day at all leading up to it, or of, continuing his ignorance and hoping it'd slip your mind. He knew it wouldn't: you were too attentive and appreciative of him to miss any excuse to celebrate and congratulate him no matter the context.

But you threaded lightly, knowing it'd be touchy and let most the day pass by as any other would, just being extra sweet on him. You never wished him a ‘Happy Father's Day’, instead when you were going to bed that night thanking him for being a father, for everything he did for you and your daughter and how good he was at it.

He ended up just breaking down, falling apart in your hold and attempting to bury himself in you the same way he tried to bury so much else.

The next couple years were largely similar; little acknowledgement to the day, but extra acknowledgements to him. It was your daughter that started to make it more distinctive. A little older now, she saw the other kids in the community making little gifts and cards for their fathers the same way they did for mothers on the respective day. Even those who didn't have dads made them in memoriam.

So of course she did it too, she loved her daddy and did those things all the time anyway. Why not do it when it's even more special? She didn't even tell you about it, secretly assembling it all herself.

You shared Daryl's surprise when she presented her crafts, repeatedly saying the token phrase you'd held off from using. He was mostly frozen for a moment, trying to just see her and this singular day rather than previous decades of Father's Day's that came before, all negatively tinted and crossed out from his personal calendar.

He accepted it all, and her innocent recognition of the holiday's purpose. Though the urge flared up in some part of him, he couldn't shut her down. She meant well, and wasn't to blame for his rocky relationship with the day and his own father. He wouldn't create reason for her to despise the holiday too, and how could be cold to the human embodiment of sunshine while her toothy smile was beaming at him?

He put her to bed that evening, spending an extra while stroking her hair and admiring how peaceful she looked while sleeping. Despite the state of the world, she had the privilege to not only sleep, but feel safe while doing so. And he's what allowed that; gave her that.

She got to feel safe from all the horrors he'd seen: the walkers, blood, guts, violence, death, immorality, all the disturbing things about life that were amplified by the apocalypse.

But more importantly, she felt safe with him.

She got to excitedly jump on him while he was still asleep in the morning, roll around and shake him till he finally got up. She got to play with him in the dirt while out in the yard, or sit him down with jewelry and accessories surrounded by stuffed animals and toy dinnerware. She got to chase him around and bombard him with curious questions and learn everything she could from him.

She got to make messes and break things, make mistakes, and know he'd always help her clean or fix them.

She got to show her emotions and be a kid and cry, and know he would always hold and soothe her, wipe away her tears and do anything to make sure she was okay.

And she never knew a different response. She never knew the yelling or insults, the degradation, the mockery, the beatings and burnings and whippings. She got to fall asleep by her father's side, lulled to rest by his comforting voice, be in the most vulnerable state a person could be, and know that the last thing he would ever do was hurt her; the idea – the worry – of him hurting her did not exist in her mind.

Daryl'd crumbled to tears by the time he returned to you that night, collapsing into your arms the way he did every time the reality of being a parent hit him. He would never truly understand how he got to this point in life, how every unfathomable thing – good and bad – had genuinely occurred and this is what was real.

From the instant you found out you were pregnant, he'd promised you, promised himself, and promised his child he would always be the father he'd wanted, that he'd deserved, that his kid deserved and that every child deserves. He healed his own childhood by assuring his daughter'd have a good one, and that he'd be regarded as a good part of it.

She made Father's Day something that could actually be ‘happy’ for him.

The daddy issues hit a little too hard while writing this

I fr don't know where the last week of my life went I just remember watching Lost 🗿

[leviathanspain]

pillowtalk

jordan li x fem!reader

synopsis: you realize your relationship with jordan must go beyond the pillowtalk

jordan rolled over, their face was still swollen from sleep, eyes puffy as soft breaths felt warm on your face. yawning quietly, you stretched your arms, letting them wrap around jordan’s body. snuggling deep into their neck, you settled, “god, i love this.” you whispered, not knowing whether they were awake or not. their muffled chuckle was your sign that they were, and you leaned back to give them a small cheek kiss.

“good morning.” jordan’s sleep heavy voice rasped. you felt their hand find your back, beginning to drag it gently across. “i’ve got so much to do today- you don’t even know.” you whispered, “and i wish i could stay here with you,”

“like this,” they continued for you, “all night.” they fought the urge to roll their eyes, “what is it now? big exam to study for? hmm?” they loved how dedicated you were to..practically anything. you were a hard worker, and it did not go unnoticed, especially by the admin at godu, who had been kind to rank you number five.

you ran a hand through their hair, stopping gently at the nape of their neck to grip it gently, “meeting my parents for lunch.” you let out a deep sigh and jordan furrowed their brows, “what? i thought you loved your parents?” last time, you and jordan had talked about parents, you had lied, said you had a great relationship with your parents, but only you knew the truth.

you had lived with them for eighteen years of hell, and you did not want to dump all of that into jordan’s lap, not when you’ve barely gotten to know each other beyond a good fuck.

because, that is how it started. jordan had any girl they wanted on speed dial, no matter what gender they presented as, jordan was hot. and for a moment, you had been of those girls.

yet you found it hard to break old habits. so the kisses and good mornings were something new. but jordan did not complain, they took it with appreciation, every kiss, every smile. everything. so seeing your expression, hurt them beyond words.

you felt this caving weight on your shoulders as you were reminded that your parents did not know that you were seeing jordan, how would you even begin to explain their power, and your relationship. shrugging it off, “it’s just not what i need right now.” you looked at jordan, seeing their tussled hair and pink lips, you kissed them deeply. as they pulled back, your teeth tugged on their lip, “mhm, but you need this?” their voice was husky, hungry.

you pushed them back, hopping up on their lap, “fuck yes,” you felt their hand on your ass, “i need all of this, right now.” their kisses became more intense, their hands dragging across the hem of your pants. you moaned into their mouth, feeling their hands go up along your spine. they stopped at the nape of your neck and you sighed softly, “mhm,” you pulled away, seeing as your phone screen on the nightstand lit up.

the time. it was way past noon; the time that you were supposed to be meeting your parents. you hopped out of the bed, stumbling slightly before regaining your balance, “holy shit!” you brushed back the hair in your face and shook your head, “i’m so fucking late and i reek of sex.” you could smell it, you had the ability of heightened senses just like most supes. your real powers are the ability to rob others of their senses. you’ve robbed enemies of their sight, assisted in many victories. you were always bouncing around in the top five, just like jordan.

jordan smiled, “sorry.” but there was no apologetic tone in their voice. you couldn’t help but crack a small smile despite your panic.

you inhaled, “sorry doesn’t cut it, li. you’ve gotta go.” you knew gour parents would want to see your dorm, no matter how messy it was. you made sure it would be decent before jordan came over so that you could just toss the dirty sheets into the hamper, throw some new ones on and be done.

jordan raised their eyebrows, “oh?” you realized how mean you had sounded and sighed, “sorry, i- i haven’t told them anything about me seeing anyone, let alone that i’m not a virgin anymore.” jordan smiled slightly, a proud look.

you rolled your eyes, “don’t worry, it was long before i met you that i wasn’t a virgin anymore.” you twisted your fingers slightly, “my parents aren’t my parents. they are but my mother, my biological mother, is their daughter. they are my grandparents. but they raised me from birth. they did not give me the compound v, that had been my young, naive mother. but she left as soon as she could, leaving me behind.” you had spent almost six months with jordan li in your bed and you had only now opened up to them. jordan’s face softened, “although they raised me, i was never seen as anything other than a ward. i was not their daughter, i was the burden that their real daughter had left.” you shrugged, “they’re bigots, too close minded for their own good, they don’t even listen to the weather broadcast anymore because it’s,” you mocked your father, “not accurate anymore.” you sighed, looking at jordan.

“i just know how they will react to you. and i don’t want to deal with that. i don’t want to have to explain it.” you didn’t even know where to begin. you and jordan did not define your relationship, and neither did you define your sexuality. you did not know or care to know, not after them.

jordan was one person, but their forms never made you question anything. but one conversation with your parents, and you would be questioning everything.

there was hurt displayed on jordan’s face, and your mind backtracked, trying to find that snag that made them upset. “this is sounding like a ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’” jordan’s eyes rimmed red and you could not believe it.

you shook your head, “jordan,” you moved towards them, still lying down on your bed, “jordan, jordan, jordan.” your voice quieted as you repeated their name in a chant. “please, understand and trust me, i don’t want this for you.” you were not ashamed, but you loved jordan and you could not put it into words. you could not recognize it as love, as protection for them. “please, i’ll call you, after?” jordan stood up, and you sat back, watching as they shifted into their male form. anger creased their face, evident in their jaw clench.

as the door slammed behind them, your eyebrows furrowed as pain coursed through your jaw. your eyes rimmed with tears. you had fucked up more than you could even begin to fathom.

[elegantniolo]

Never home - C. Sturniolo.

In which... you start feeling bad about body. you see all these pretty influencers and models who look perfect. Chris is slowly drifting away from your relationship. you think it's your fault but really it's just work..

Warnings... Angst, angerissuses!chris, body dismorphia, argument, use of y/n, etc.. I don't know what else.

Fiah speaking... Hellooo! I haven't made a fic in a while, so sorry if this is bad, lol. I wanna make this a series, though....

so, this got more votes for it to be a series so yeah it's gonna be a series

───────────────────────────────────────

You were currently sitting in bed, on your phone, scrolling through your feed, seeing all these gorgeous girls you cold look like. You looked at the time, 9:35, Chris wouldn't come home for a couple more hours. He's always working on ideas or filming for he and his brothers' channels. You wished maybe he could take a few days off or something. You then just got up off bed and decided to get ready for bed. You set your phone down to charge and walked to your shared bathroom. You turn the shower on warm water and undress yourself. You then turned to look at the mirror.. "God, why do I look so disgusting.." You mumble softly. You set your hands on your belly, why couldn't you be skinny like those models..?

You groan in annoyance and just get into the shower, you feel the droplets of water fall down your chest and belly. You grab your loofah and add some of your favorite scent of body wash to it, Shea butter, You then start to exfoliate your skin. After washing your body, you get some shampoo and conditioner and scrub it into your hair. After just standing in the shower for a while, you decide to get out, grab your grey towel, and wrap it around your body. You then do everything like do skincare, brush your teeth, etc.

You get out and walk back into the bedroom and to the closet. You walk into the walk-in closet and grab a black tank top and matching shorts. You get dressed and brush your hair, you dry it, then walk back to the bed. You turn the side table lamps off and lay in bed. You get into the big comfy blanket and snuggle into it. At this point, it was almost 11 pm, and you heard the door downstairs open Chris was home. You could hear his footsteps walk up the stairs. The house was silent as he walked through the bedroom door. You pretend to sleep, so chris didn't say or do anything. He sees your figure "sleeping" and just undresses and stays in his tank top and boxers as he slips into bed.

He's had a hard few weeks with his brothers filming, he's exhausted. He sleeps on his side of the bed, inches of space the two you, hes been a bit more distant and cold around you. You wanted his touch. You wanted his cuddles. You needed him to hold you in his arms. You then hear his breathing and little snores, you turned to face him, he was already asleep. God he looked so adorable, you just sigh and close your eyes, you then start to fall asleep with the teddy bear Chris got you guys in your first date.

morning.

It was 7 am, On a Saturday morning. You were still asleep but you could feel and hear Chris stirring awake. You decided to also wake up since you rarely ever see him in the mornings. Your eyes flutter open and you two make eye contact. "G'mornin." He mumbles tiredly as he got up off bed, "good mornin baby.." you say softly with a smile, you just now noticed you guys talked for the first time in days since he wakes up early and comes home late. "Youre leaving right now..? It's so early and I thought you filmed yesterday.." you say a with a bit of disappointment in your face. "Yeah.. me, Matt and Nick gotta come up with ideas, run some errands and some meetings. We've been busy, you know that." He says a bit coldly.

"Oh, sorry.. you're just never home.." You say quietly, "Well obviously y/n. I'm never home so I can build our future. Now let me be. I gotta go soon, or I'll be late, damnnit." He mutters, looking for his keys. You bit your lip, not wanting to break down. You get up and go downstairs to at least make him something to eat. You get to the kitchen and make him a quick breakfast sandwich.

You grab the loaf of bread that was on the counter, eggs, sausage, and cheese. You make the sandwich and heat it quickly in the oven. You put it on a plate and set it on the counter for him to grab when he leaves. You sigh, you wish he was here more. You go and sit in the living room and just watch some TV as you cuddled on the couch. You hear his footsteps walking down the stairs, you look to see him grabbing the sandwhich, "This is f'me, right?" He asked, you just nod and don't say a word. He shrugs and just leave the house without saying goodbye.

───────────────────────────────────────

Hihihihi I dunno if this is good or not. I hope you guys like this, but I feel like I used "you" to much and added like a bit too much details

Bye for now my pretty people.

[castiwls]

gold rush - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'And then it fadеs into the gray of my day-old tea. 'Cause it could never be'

Requested; anon

Notes; made this kinda sad cant lie. The songs about longing so I kinda just ran with that

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Sam had always known he was the odd one out during his childhood. In school he’d always felt like an outsider - constantly the new kid. While at home he’d also felt on the sidelines when it came to his dad and brother. 

And then he’d met you. Someone who finally understood him and what he wanted. 

You’d both talked about it. You’d had countless conversations about what life outside of hunting could be like. Countless hours at night you’d spent conjuring up images of the perfect house and the family that you could only dream off.

And in those moments it felt real. The stress of hunting and the terrifying reality of your life would fade away as this false reality slowly took over and for a brief moment would begin to form.

“Okay, dog or cat?” You leaned up on your elbow using your free hand to trace shapes across his arm. Sam paused a small smile playing on his lips. “Dog.” A look of nostalgia almost passed over his face for a moment. “I had a dog, years ago.”

“You had a dog? You never mentioned that?” 

He laughed quietly. “It wasn’t for a long time, only a few weeks.” You nodded. “Okay, so dog it is.” You smiled at him. “Dog it is.”

The room fell quiet for a moment as you continued to trace shapes across his arm. The soft sensation of your finger running across his skin slowly began to relax him. His body which always seemed to be tense now slowly began to relax under your touch.

“You're thinking again.” Your voice broke through the silence. “Stop.”

His smile had dropped slightly, a harder look in his eyes as he stared past you. “It’s nothing.” He shook his head looking back to you. “I just…I wish this wan’t just a conversation.” 

The room fell quiet again as his words lay heavy in the air. “One day it might not be just a conversation.” Your hand moved down to intertwin your fingers. “I know you wanna get out.” Your voice dropped to a whisper as you leaned slightly closer. “But you just gotta keep going. Its gonna happen eventually, no one does this forever.”

Sam’s hand squeezed yours. The unsaid words hung heavy. No one did this job forever because they either died or by some miricle managed to fully get out. The later seemed rare from what he’d seen.

Even hunters who retired still seemed to get sucked back in. 

He nodded after a moment. “I know. I know.” His breath caught for a moment. “I just hope it’s sooner rather then later.” You seemed to relax at his words, content that for the moment he seemed satisfied. That you’d managed to push those voices away.

It wasn’t long before you seemed to be pulled under by the lull of sleep. Your head resting against his chest as your breathing evend out.

He watched you for a moment. The reality of the world seeming to settle back over him again as the darkness of the night seemed to engulf him.

He knew it was nothing more than a fantasy. That in reality a normal life would always be just out of his grasp.

[petew21-blog]

Life upgrade

Hi, I am Earl Montgomery. I am 34 year old gay man. I studied history and enhlish literature at Columbia and then I became a teacher. I have been working as a teacher since than and I have to say that being a teacher is one of the most honorable proffesions there are. You get to educate all the young minds and set them on a right path in life. If only they would listen to me during classes. Maybe my life wouldn't be so boring. The job takes all my energy. I never believed that so many teachers get burnt out, but man. Once you see that your job affects only few of those kids and the rest just doesn't care, you contemplate back on your life. What could I have done different? I could have had a happy, adventurous life full of fun and sex. Oh how I miss the sex.

Oh sorry, my bad. You thought the guy wearing sports clothes is me? Oh no no no. This is me actually

That guy is Barry. The gym teacher. He's the same age as me. But his life is much better. He works as a gym teacher, coach and in his free time he is a personal trainer in gym. He gets to coach all the hot bodybuilders and sometimes women, that lust over him a later on sleep with him.

I onced tried to hit on him, thinking he might be bisexual, but ended up being ignored for the rest of the school year. He started talking to me again recently and that's fine. If there is no drama it's all good. Besides. He has his own life full of sport and travelling around the world, fucking everything that moves. And I have my own life. My slightly boring and depresive life.

Who am I kidding? I hate my life. I wish I were Barry. To have his hot body, his libido, his life full of travellling and fucking everyone.

Suddenly it was so bright all around me. I was in a garage. Running. I stopped. Where am I? Why am I running? How did I get here?

I looked around but the place was empty. Then I looked down and saw the grey clothes for sport that Barry has. "This can't be". I walked over to the nearest car and saw Barry. No, I saw my reflection.

"Well well well. Can't ignore me now, huh?" I flexed my biceps over the shirt. So freaking hot. He is so buff. Must be amazing to be so strong and have strong muscles like this. His skin is so tense and beautiful. I gotta go somewhere more private to look what he's hiding under this. Don't know how this freaky friday will last.

Vibration in my pocket. Some girls want to have a private class with me in the gym. But the emojis don't seem like they want to take the training very seriously. Might be fun.

"Flex for the camera. Perfect!"

"Omg Barry, you're really hot. How did you get so big?"

"You think this is big... you haven't seen all of me yet. Haha" Where the hell was this coming from? Why did I say that?

"Really? We were actually thinking you coul help us stretch some time and show us how to do this to not hurt ourselves."

"I can stretch you both now in the showers, babes" Whyyy am I saying this. I'm not straight for fucks sake. Oh no. I'm not, but Barry is. I need to get back. I can't be straight.

1 hour later

"Thanks Barry. What a great personal class. Haha. Same time next week?" the taller oned asked while walking away from the gym

"You bet!" the sex was really good I have to admit that. But only this body craves it. Not me. I am gay, I don't want to watch pussy all day.

Phone vibrated again

Holy shit, A message from my number:"Hey, I don't know what you did to me, but I just jerked off for the third time thinking about my own body and I can't keep doing this... I want to swa... SUUCK your dick"

Oh maan, he has the same problem as I do. His body responds to what the person craved before, bout our minds didn't change our sexual orientation it seems.

"Came to your body's place in 30 minutes. Bring lube. Don't be late" I texted. I love this confidence the body is so full off.

And I bet I am gonna love the fact that my old body is gonna suck my dick very soon.

Haha. Gotta thank the istock photos for the inspiration

Story from inbox: Would you be able to do a story where a nerdy teacher swaps bodies with the hunky football coach. Maybe even cucking him?

[modern-gremlin]

Morning Errands | Sebastian SDV — Married Life 🔞

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: Sebastian (SDV) x afab!reader

Summary: You need Sebastian's help with beginning-of-season errands. If only there was a way you could "wake him up".

Tags: Husband!Sebastian, Smut, established relationship, detailed descriptions of sex, a dash of fluff. NSFW Tags below the cut.

Word Count: 2,900 (I did it, a fic under 5,000 words lol) A/N: Fun Fact — this idea started as a non-SDV related adult animation concept I was in early development of. I unfortunately do not have a lot of time for animating things anymore, so it's definitely more feasible to write it down. PLUS, I just love quickly shooting these stories out — better spat out here than rotting in my brain!!

It was really fun to rewrite it to fit the Stardew Valley world; I think it just gives me so much more to work with. Especially when it comes to writing about the world in detail. (and I get to feed my Sebastian brainworms <33) Hope you enjoy the read xoxo

NSFW Tags: morning sex, foreplay (dry humping), some dirty talk (mostly teasing), oral (male receiving), overstimulation, creampie

"Seb? Seeeeebb, it's 6:40," you say softly with a gentle shake of his arm, "we gotta get going." Still unwilling to move from his comfortable spot on the bed, Sebastian stifles a sleepy groan in response. It's always been hard to wake him up — that's something you knew even before you married him. Working freelance comes with the blessing and curse of setting your own work schedule, which means late night cramming sessions are a normal occurrence. You don't really blame him for wanting to sleep in, but today, he promised to help you with your ever-growing list of morning chores.

You run your fingers through his hair, lightly brushing the dark strands off his cheek with the back of your fingers. He just looks so peaceful when he's asleep; it's really such a shame to wake him up like this. Especially when he wraps his arm around you to cuddle against your thigh. It's almost tempting to sink yourself back into his arms and shut the whole world away under the protection of your shared bed covers. Almost — but you know better than to underestimate your beginning-of-season errands. It doesn't help that you also agreed to host a family dinner with Robin and Demetrius this evening. So much to do, so little time. In hindsight, you wish you planned this all a little better.

With a little more force this time, you try to shake him awake. "Mmph… just a few more minutes…" he mumbles while releasing his arms from your thigh, now lying on his back. At least he's able to get a few words out. That's a good sign, you think to yourself. You head toward your bathroom, hoping that by the time you're done brushing your teeth he'll be sitting upright. Maybe.

A soft, cool breeze enters the small opening of your window as you pass through the hallway. It's remarkable how quickly the seasons change in the valley. From your view in the bathroom, you can catch a glimpse of your summer crops, now reduced to wilted clumps in the soil. You'll definitely need Seb's help with this today. You take a little extra time to brush your teeth and wash your face, trying to buy him time to get up. He's gotta be awake by now, right?

You're not surprised to see him still splayed on the bed, eyes just barely fluttering at the sound of your footsteps entering the room. "Seb, it's almost 7 now. I really need your help," you plead sweetly, hoping the cute tone you've adopted would prompt him to move with more haste. He just smiles and offers a curt, "Mhm," in response, eyes still shut. Wow, he's really out of it, huh? You might need to switch strategies.

If you married Sebastian knowing that he's not exactly a morning person, he should also count on the fact that you're always up for a little bit of mischief — because now, you've got a plan that's basically foolproof. Creeping up to the bed, you slowly plant a knee on each side of his body to gently straddle his lap. With your chest pressed against his, you place kisses on his face. "Sebby, come on" you whisper tenderly into his ear, "you can get up for me, can't you?" He lets out an amused huff out of his nose and wraps an arm around the small of your back. He's definitely more awake now, but perhaps a little more provocation will do the trick.

You kiss along his jaw down to the side of his neck, playing with the collar of his t-shirt with your fingers. His eyes lazily open when you stop, now meeting his gaze from where your cheek rests on his chest. "Morning, sleepyhead. Remember those errands I need help with?" you tease. He lovingly smirks at your remark, placing a hand on your head to gently stroke your hair.

"Mm… what time is it?" he asks in a raspy voice. You answer his question with a light pinch of his cheek,

"Probably seven, by now. We're running a little late, y'know?"

The fact that 7AM is considered late to you is something he's still getting used to. If left to his own devices, he'd absolutely sleep the day away and have his breakfast at 3PM. Yet, he tries his best to slip into your daily schedule because that'd mean he'd get more time to see your face throughout the day, wouldn't it? But you know what they say, old habits die hard, and right now his old habits have him basically glued to the bed.

"What are the chances I can convince you to push these errands to tomorrow?" he asks cheekily.

"Hm… slim to none," you reply. "With the dinner party today and the fair coming up in a few weeks, it's gonna be really tough to–" You notice his eyes droop as you speak. "Seb?" He startles awake at the sudden call of his name.

"M' sorry, babe. Promise I'm not doing it on purpose," Sebastian rubs his eyes and yawns. "It's just... hard to stay awake."

With a smile, you shake your head and sigh, "what am I gonna do with you?"

"Hm…I don't know. What are you going to do with me?" He places his hands onto your back again, looking down at you with a suggestive smirk.

Leaning in closer to his face, just barely grazing your mouth over his, you whisper, "I might have a few ideas."

Placing your hands around his neck, thumbs resting against his jaw, you pull him closer into a deep kiss. He tightens the grip around your waist in response, pulling you closer toward him. God, if he wasn't awake a few minutes ago, he definitely is waking up now. He takes your mouth into his, enveloping your lips entirely and gently brushing them with his tongue. You can feel your pulse quickening as your breasts press firmly against him; an urge slowly building and itching at you from below. Unable to contain yourself, you lower your hips to grind against the thick bulge beneath you. You can't help but smile at how hard he already is; grinning against his tongue.

You pull away to shift your weight onto his clothed cock, gasping at how it rubs against you. "At least one part of you is up," you jeer, rocking slow movements against his length. He muses at your words and brushes his hair away from his face, granting him a better view of your body on top of his.

"Can you blame me?" he smiles, his sleepy eyes scanning your form. Running thumbs underneath the hem of your shirt, he gingerly lifts up the fabric to reveal your bare chest steadily bouncing at the rhythm your clothed pussy rubs against him. "Fuck me," he gasps breathily, "what a way to wake up."

His exasperation makes you laugh, motivating you to grind your hips with more fervour. "I'm glad this is working," you admit, "because we have just– so much– to do…" Your words are broken up with every sway of your hips. He pulls your shirt off your arms as you continuously pleasure yourself with his dick, moaning and creating a wet spot on his boxers. He just watches as you use him, in absolute awe by how your body reacts to his. His head slowly falls backward onto the pillow, closing his eyes to take in the stimulation. Then suddenly, you stop.

His eyes dart open again at your weight being lifted off his lap, ready to pull you back onto him. You move his hands away and lower your face to his lap. "Nuh uh. You gotta wake up," you chastise before pulling down his boxers. He groans breathily when his thick cock springs free, smacking his toned stomach from the speed of your movements. Without warning, you spit on his tip and run your palm against his shaft, causing him to tense at the sudden sensation. For a while, he can only stare at you with furrowed brows and complete admiration.

"I should sleep in more often," he teases while grinning at his own remark. But soon his sly grin is replaced by a strained grit because you wrap your fingers around his fat length, stroking him at an unfair pace. He perches himself up by the elbows, watching you fist his cock from base to tip. "Fuck, baby. You gotta slow down or ill–" You lower yourself to lick his balls, dragging your way up the shaft.

"Can't, Sebby," you say, stopping at the tip. "Can't have you falling asleep on me." Taking his length in your hand, you guide his cock into the warmth of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head.

He instinctually places his hands on the top of your head as he throws back his own. The bed gently shakes at the bobbing of your head, catching and swallowing his length into your throat. It's all so sudden; so frustratingly sexy that he can hardly take it. With the hand that grips at your hair, he tries to pry you off him — hoping to gain some reprieve. But this only invites you to suck on him with more excitement. It's just too hard to resist when he praises you in his gravelly, morning voice. "Holy fuck, babe. You're too good at tha–" You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth as he pushes you away from him; he must be close.

With a gentle tug of your hair, you give in and pull away. You and Sebastian heave heavily, the latter trying to regain his composure. He's usually the one to make you melt underneath him, so you can't help but marvel at his flustered expression. "You awake now?" you triumph with a mischievous smile. He picks himself up to stare into you; the look in his eyes tell you that you're in for it now.

Releasing his grip, he sits himself upright and leans toward you. "Hm, yeah. I think I am," he says while returning your expression, "turn around."

Without a question, you turn yourself around, resting your chest on the bed while lifting your ass toward him. You wiggle your hips tauntingly in his direction until you're greeted by a firm smack — a small yelp escapes your lips from the impact. "So impatient," he chides while soothing the sting with his palm, "well, you got what you wanted. I'm up." He slaps your ass again before leaning behind you, pressing his chest to your back to whisper into your ear, "unless…there's something else you wanted."

Just the sound of his condescending tone sends shivers down your spine, and he knows it. He hooks a finger by your dripping slit and tugs at your underwear, causing the fabric to bundle tightly against your clit. All semblances of your mischief has disappeared, vanished with his scolding and now you're moaning his name into the covers. You can tell he's enjoying every lewd noise you make, because now he's tugging at your panties harder, trying to elicit a bigger reaction.

"Well, now that I'm awake, let's go over our to-do list, hm?" He releases your underwear, only to slip his cock beneath the fabric and vigorously rub your clit.

"Seb… I can't–" you plead, eager to feel him plunge inside you. He places his hands on your waist, stroking soothing circles with his thumbs against your back.

"Don't worry, baby. You'll get it, after we go through the list. Okay?" he coos.

Stumbling your words in between moans, you begin listing the day's tasks. "W-we… need to clear off the crops…and prepare the fields."

"Mhm," he hums while wetting his tip along your slit. "What's next?"

"Clear off the weeds in front of the b-baaaarn–" You words shake as he teases your entrance with his tip, gliding it to catch your slick. "Then go to Pierre's… to pick up ingredients for tonight." Your legs quiver as he prods your wet cunt, not fully entering.

"Is there…anything else?" Sebastian meaninglessly asks, his own voice getting shaky in anticipation. He doesn't really care what's on the to-do list, not at the moment at least. No doubt he'll have to ask about it later, because all he cares about now is making you beg to be railed.

"We might also need to–" This time, he slowly pushes his cock through your wet folds, slipping himself inch by inch into your cunt until his thighs are flush against you. His size fills you entirely, stopping any words from escaping your mouth.

He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your pussy clench around him, still gritting his teeth to continue, "We might need to what? I didn't… catch the last part." He nearly pulls himself out entirely while waiting for your response.

"We…might need to–" You breathe in heavily while his dick pulses inside you. "Seb, please," you beg in a petulant tone. Your cries are so needy and desperate, but you don't care. There's no pride between you two, only true love and the aching desire to be fucked. Lucky for you, the feeling is mutual. Deciding he's equally impatient, he fucks his full length back into you.

"I think I get the gist," he says with a satisfied smile before plunging himself in and out of your cunt. He so badly wants to praise how well you took his teasing, but he's almost completely breathless. Lost for words at how tight you are, how well your pretty pussy takes him, and utterly smitten by the way you moan his name between thrusts. He wants to pound more of them out of you — a reminder to everyone in town that you've chosen him and he's the one fucking you the way you deserve.

Really, this is just one of the many moments he's reminded just how lucky he is. He feels so lucky that you decided to move to this boring town. So lucky that you stuck around despite his icy exterior, and miraculously lucky that you fell in love with him. Now he gets to wake up beside you everyday, fuck you like no one else can, and navigate life's mundanities with the person he loves. Morning errands be damned; nothing ever feels like a chore now that you're his.

He pounds you harder now — as if he's trying to bury his intentions deep inside you so you can feel his gratitude. Because even all his sly remarks and bullied thrusts are just another way of praising you; another way to tell you he loves you without saying it out loud. Your pussy clenches down on him so tightly, grasping onto his praises like your life depended on it. Ready to cum all over his cock to confirm that you feel the same. But even if your cunt wasn't being obvious, your words certainly were.

"Seb– it feels so. Fucking. Good," you whine in between thrusts. You try to warn him of your impending burst, but the arch of your back signals your orgasm much faster than you can speak. Backing your ass further into him, you accept his length against your cervix until you feel your release. You convulse around him, whispering thank you's under your breath. The only sound reaching his ears are your muffled cries of pleasure and the squeaking of the bed. He fucks you through your orgasm, but even after you come down from the high, he's still not done.

He rails your stimulated pussy over and over again, causing you to reach out your hand behind you to slow him down. "S-sebastian, I just came. Slower, it's so f-fast"

Grabbing your arm by the wrist, he plows deeper into you. "Sorry, baby. Can't," he says breathily, "We got too much to do today, remember?" You turn your head back to look over your shoulder and flash him a blissed-out smile, silently laughing at his twist of your words.

Reaching around to your front, he rubs circles around your puffy clit while he fucks his last few, sloppy blows inside you. "So close, babe. M'so fucking…close" he says with gritted teeth. His movements on your bud stokes the fire within you, threatening to shatter you once again. With one last buck of his hips against yours, he shoots his load deep inside your pussy, filling you to the brim with in white. He groans profanities as he sputters small thrusts into you. The warmth of his semen hitting against you is the last straw, sending you into your second orgasm of the day.

Dropping your wrist from his grip, he leans forward onto your back, pulling out slightly causing his cum to spill out of you. You breathe in unison, heavily and laboured as you try to regain your bearings. Maybe it's been ten minutes or maybe it was an hour, but you both lay beside each other, unbothered by the time that's passing you by.

When you both come down to your senses, your eyes lock onto his and suddenly you're both chuckling at the morning's happenings. With a bright-eyed smile, he takes your palm to rest on his cheek. Placing a kiss on your knuckles, he greets you to start the day.

"Good morning, honey."

[emjayewrites]

swift pursuits • ibou konaté (1/6)

SYNOPSIS: Fresh off Olympic gold, sprinter Iris "Dash" Dashiell reluctantly joins football star Ibrahima Konate for a high-profile campaign. Despite her having a boyfriend, Iris can't ignore her growing attraction to Ibou as they navigate fame's pressures together. Ibou finds himself equally drawn to the vibrant athlete, but with careers and hearts on the line, will they risk it all for a shot at love?

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., instant attraction/friends, and other things I’m not revealing just yet — minors dni (18+)

PAIRINGS: Ibou Konaté x Iris "Dash" Dashiell (fc @/cardineal)

TAGLIST: @trentswrld @trenterprise @kj77 @2serenity0 @saturnville @judes-hoe

A/N: Shoutout to @lev-1-1 for the inspiration! This is my first (and perhaps only) Ibou fic! I don’t know a lot about him besides what I’ve Googled and what he shares on his IG but I’m digging tf outta him. This is a work of fiction and please let me know if you wish to be added/removed from the taglist. Also, this synopsis and theme of the story is inspired by Offensive Formations by Christina C Jones. Dividers by @inklore

CHAPTER 1: The Whirlwind

Iris Dashiell's legs were on fire, but she couldn't stop now. Not when she was this close. The finish line blurred in her vision as she pushed herself harder than she ever had before. The roar of the crowd in Paris's Olympic Stadium faded to white noise, and all she could hear was the rhythm of her own heartbeat.

One more hurdle.

As her feet touched down on the other side of that final obstacle, time seemed to slow. Iris leaned forward, chest first, arms back. In that moment, she wasn't Iris anymore. She was pure speed. She was "Dash."

The moment her torso broke through the finish line, reality came crashing back. The stadium erupted, and Iris fell to her knees, gasping for air. She'd done it.

Olympic fuckin’ gold.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Iris 'Dash' Dashiell has just set a new Olympic record in the 200-meter hurdles!"

Tears streamed down Iris's face as she stood, her braids coming loose from her ponytail. She looked up into the stands, searching for her family, her team. Instead, her eyes locked with Serena Williams, the tennis legend giving her a standing ovation. Iris's heart swelled. This was everything she'd ever dreamed of.

But dreams, as Iris was about to learn, have a way of shifting once you achieve them.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Interviews, drug tests, more interviews. By the time Iris finally made it back to the Olympic Village, her phone was blowing up with notifications. Congratulations from fellow athletes, messages from old friends, and, of course, her cousins asking if she could hook them up with some of that "Olympic money."

Iris groaned, tossing her phone aside. She just wanted to sleep for a week.

A knock at her door jolted her from her thoughts. "Yo, Dash! Open up, girl. We're celebrating!"

Iris recognized the voice of her teammate, Zoe. With a sigh, she hauled herself off the bed and opened the door. Zoe burst in, followed by a couple other members of Team USA.

"There's our golden girl!" Zoe whooped, pulling Iris into a hug. "Girl, you were flying out there! Even Allyson Felix was shook!"

Iris couldn't help but smile. "For real? Allyson said something?"

"Check your DMs, sis. Everyone's talking about you."

As if on cue, Iris's phone buzzed again. This time, it was her boyfriend, Marcus. "Babe, you killed it! I'm booking my flight to Paris right now. We gotta hit up some clubs, show you off!"

Iris's smile faltered. She loved Marcus, but right now, a club was the last place she wanted to be. Before she could reply, another message came through. This one from her manager, Jamila.

"Iris, darling! Fantastic job today. I've got Good Morning America and The Today Show. We're going to strike while the iron's hot. I'll send you the schedule in the morning. Rest up, superstar!"

Iris felt her chest tighten. The whirlwind was only just beginning.

"Hey, you good?" Zoe asked, noticing Iris's change in demeanor.

Iris forced a smile. "Yeah, just tired, you know? It's been a long day."

Zoe nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I feel you. We'll let you rest. But tomorrow, we celebrate for real, a'ight?"

As her friends filed out, Iris sank back onto her bed. She should be on top of the world right now. So why did she feel like she was about to be swallowed whole?

Her eyes drifted to the gold medal sitting on her nightstand. It glinted in the low light, a symbol of everything she'd worked for. But as Iris drifted off to sleep, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a whole new race. One she wasn't sure she was prepared to run.

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of flashing cameras and rapid-fire questions. Iris felt like a hamster on a wheel, running from one interview to the next, her smile growing more strained with each passing hour. But just when she thought she couldn't take another minute, she found herself face-to-face with none other than Snoop Dogg, Team USA's unofficial ambassador.

"Yo, Dash!" Snoop greeted her, his signature drawl instantly putting her at ease. "Girl, you was flyin' out there! Had me thinkin' you had wings on them shoes!"

Iris couldn't help but laugh, her first genuine smile in what felt like forever. "Thanks, Uncle Snoop! I still can't believe it happened."

"Believe it, baby girl. You earned every bit of that gold. Now, let's talk about that race. Break it down for the Doggfather."

For the next fifteen minutes, Iris found herself actually enjoying an interview for the first time. Snoop's laid-back style and genuine interest in her sport made her feel like she was just chatting with an old friend. By the end, she was even teaching him her pre-race dance routine, both of them laughing as Snoop tried to keep up with her quick steps.

As the interview wrapped up, Snoop gave her a fist bump. "You keep doin' you, Dash. The world ain't ready for what you got next."

Iris held onto that feeling of joy as she was whisked away to her next appointment - a meeting with her management team. She arrived at a sleek conference room, where her manager, Jamila, was already waiting with several others.

"There's our golden girl!" Jamila exclaimed, pulling Iris into a hug that smelled of expensive perfume and ambition. "We've got big news, darling. Huge!"

Iris sank into a plush chair, bracing herself. "What's up?"

Jamila's eyes gleamed. "We've just locked down a major deal. A campaign for Pulse Athletics. It's going to run for the next three months, really capitalizing on your Olympic momentum."

"Three months?" Iris felt her chest tighten. "But I was hoping to take some time off, maybe visit my family—"

"Oh, sweetie," Jamila waved her hand dismissively, "there'll be time for that later. This is your moment!"

One of the other team members, a young man with thick-rimmed glasses, chimed in. "The best part is, you'll be working with another star athlete. It's a collaboration that's going to break the internet."

Iris perked up slightly. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad if she had a partner to share the load. "Oh yeah? Who is it?"

Jamila beamed. "Ibou Konate!"

Iris blinked. "Who?"

The room fell silent for a moment before Jamila let out a forced laugh. "Oh, Iris, you're such a kidder! Ibou Konate? The Liverpool defender?"

Iris shrugged, feeling suddenly out of her depth. "Sorry, I don't really follow soccer."

Jamila's smile tightened almost imperceptibly. "Well, darling, you're about to become very familiar with Mr. Konate. This campaign is going to be huge for both of you."

As her team launched into the details of the campaign, Iris found her mind wandering. She tuned back in just in time to hear Jamila say, "You'll meet Ibou next week for the initial photoshoot. I have a feeling you two are going to hit it off!"

Iris nodded, forcing a smile. As excited as she should be about this opportunity, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was losing control of her own life. But this was what she'd worked for, right? This was what winning gold meant.

As she left the meeting, Iris felt a headache coming on. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep, but as she approached her hotel room, she could hear a familiar voice from inside.

"Yeah, yeah, that's right! Your boy is in Paris with the Olympic champion! Iris 'Dash' Dashiell, aka the fastest woman in the world, aka my girl!"

Iris closed her eyes and took a deep breath before swiping her key card. The door swung open to reveal Marcus, her boyfriend, lounging on the bed with his phone held high, broadcasting yet another Instagram Live.

"And here she is, folks! The golden girl herself!" Marcus exclaimed as Iris entered the room.

Iris forced a smile and gave a half-hearted wave to the camera. "Hey everyone," she said, her voice lacking its usual energy.

Marcus jumped up, still filming. "Babe, you won't believe all the stuff that's been arriving for you! Check it out!"

For the first time, Iris noticed the array of gifts scattered around the room. Under normal circumstances, she might have been excited, but right now it all felt overwhelming.

"And look at this!" Marcus continued, seemingly oblivious to Iris's fatigue. He gestured to a stunning bouquet of yellow and white roses. "Guess who these are from? Go on, guess!"

Iris sighed. "I don't know, Marcus. Who?"

"Beyoncé!" Marcus practically shouted into his phone. "That's right, Queen Bey herself sent flowers to my queen! How dope is that?"

As Marcus continued to catalogue the gifts for his followers, Iris sank into an armchair, her eyes fixed on Beyoncé's flowers. Any other day, she would have been over the moon. Now, she just felt numb.

"Marcus," she said quietly, but he didn't seem to hear her, too engrossed in his livestream.

"Oh, and check out these sneakers from Nike! Limited edition, not even out yet. That's how they do when you're dating a champion, you feel me?"

"Marcus," Iris said again, louder this time.

He finally looked at her, lowering his phone slightly. "What's up, babe? You good?"

Iris opened her mouth, then closed it again. What could she say? That she was exhausted? That all of this felt like too much? That she missed the days when it was just about the run, not the fame?

Instead, she forced another smile. "It's nothing. I'm just tired."

Marcus nodded, his attention already back on his phone. "No doubt, no doubt. You've been grinding hard. But hey, that's the price of greatness, right? Speaking of which, we got that club appearance tonight. It's gonna be lit!"

Iris felt her heart sink. Another appearance. Another night of smiling and waving and pretending she wasn't bone-tired.

As Marcus resumed his commentary for his followers, Iris's eyes drifted back to Beyoncé's flowers. They were beautiful, no doubt. But right now, all she could think about was how much she missed the simple beauty of the wildflowers that grew near her childhood home.

She closed her eyes, trying to recall their scent, the feel of grass under her feet as she ran through the fields. For a moment, she was back there, free and unburdened. Then Marcus's voice cut through her reverie.

"Yo, Iris! You gonna get ready? We gotta leave in an hour!"

Iris opened her eyes, the hotel room coming back into focus. The gifts, the flowers, Marcus with his ever-present phone – this was her reality now. With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from the chair.

"Yeah," she said, heading towards the bathroom. "I'll be ready."

As she closed the bathroom door behind her, shutting out Marcus's voice and the glare of his camera, Iris caught her reflection in the mirror. The face that looked back at her was one she barely recognized – the face of a champion, they all said. But right now, she'd give anything to just be Iris again.

With another deep breath, she turned on the shower. Time to get ready for another night in the spotlight.

The studio buzzed with activity as Iris walked in, her steps heavy with exhaustion. She'd barely slept in the last week, thanks to Marcus's insistence on hitting every hot spot in Paris, not to mention the endless amount of interviews and press junkets. As she approached the set, her eyes landed on a tall, striking figure chatting animatedly with the crew.

That had to be Ibou Konate.

Damn, he's tall, Iris thought, her neck craning as she took him in. At 6'4", Ibou was a whole entire tree, making her feel like a shrub in comparison.

As if sensing her gaze, he turned, and Iris felt her breath catch slightly. Ibou was undeniably handsome, with rich brown skin and a dazzling smile that seemed to light up the room. His hair was cut short on the sides, with tight, well-maintained waves on top. A neatly trimmed goatee framed his full lips, giving him a look that was both rugged and refined.

"Ah, you must be Iris!" he called out, his French accent rolling pleasantly over the words. He strode towards her, hand extended. "I'm Ibou. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Iris shook his hand, noting the warmth of his grip. "Hi," she replied, her tone cooler than she intended. She was just so tired.

If Ibou noticed her less-than-enthusiastic response, he didn't show it. Instead, he grinned even wider. "I heard about your races. You were like lightning out there."

Before Iris could respond, a peppy woman with a clipboard bustled up to them. "Great, you're both here! I'm Ana, your social media manager for this campaign. Let's get you two briefed!"

She ushered them to a quiet corner of the studio. "So, here's the concept: 'Dare or Double Dare.' Over the next three months, you'll be challenging each other to various dares - could be eating weird foods, pulling pranks, doing crazy exercises, you name it! We'll capture it all for social media, of course."

Ibou's eyes lit up. "Sounds fun! I'm always up for a good prank."

Iris, however, felt her heart sink. Three more months of this circus? "And this goes on after the Olympics?" she asked, trying to keep the dread out of her voice.

Ana nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! Right through to the middle of Ibou's season. It's going to be epic!"

As Ana continued explaining the details, Iris felt her attention wandering. She was vaguely aware of Ibou cracking jokes, his laughter infectious enough that even in her exhausted state, she found the corners of her mouth twitching upward.

Suddenly, a commotion near the entrance caught her attention. Marcus had arrived, and he did not look happy.

"Yo, who's this dude?" he demanded, eyeing Ibou like he was sizing up competition.

Iris sighed. "Marcus, this is Ibou. He's my partner for the campaign. Ibou, this is my boyfriend, Marcus."

Ibou, ever pleasant, extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, man."

Marcus wasn't having it. He ignored Ibou's hand, his eyes narrowing as he clocked how Ibou was looking at Iris. And yeah, maybe there was a hint of something more than professional courtesy in that look, but right now, Iris couldn't bring herself to care.

"Marcus, chill," Iris hissed, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

But Marcus was on a roll. "Nah, I see how he's looking at you. I'm just supposed to be cool with that?"

Iris felt something snap inside her. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the pressure, or just the way Ibou towered over Marcus's 5'10" frame, making her boyfriend look like he was picking a fight with a redwood. Whatever it was, she'd had enough.

"You know what? Just... just head out, Marcus. Please."

"Are you serious right now?" Marcus's voice rose, drawing stares from the crew.

"As a heart attack. Go."

For a hot second, it looked like Marcus might pop off. But then he turned and stormed out, muttering curses under his breath.

What the fuck is he on today? Iris turned back to find Ibou and Ana staring at her, concern evident on their faces. "I'm sorry about that," she said, feeling suddenly drained. "Let's just... let's get this shoot started, okay?"

The next hour passed in a blur of poses and outfit changes. Iris tried to focus, to summon the energy and charisma that had become her trademark. But as the bright lights beat down on her, she felt herself growing dizzy.

The room started to spin. She heard Ibou's voice, sounding worried: "Iris? Are you alright?"

And then the world went black.

When Iris came to, she found herself cradled in strong arms. She blinked, her vision clearing to reveal Ibou's concerned face looking down at her.

"There you are," he said softly. "You scared the shit out of us."

Iris tried to sit up, but Ibou gently held her in place. "Easy now. The medic's on his way. You fainted - probably from exhaustion and dehydration."

Feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, Iris closed her eyes again. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Non, non, don’t apologize," Ibou insisted. His voice was soothing, almost melodic. "Tell me, what do you like to do to calm down? To relax?"

Iris found herself answering without really thinking. "I... I like to take walks in the wildflower fields on my parents' property in Virginia. They own a horse ranch."

"That sounds beautiful," Ibou said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I'd love to see that someday."

Did he just…? Nah, he’s probably just being nice. "Yeah," Iris continued, surprised at how easy it was to talk to him. "And when I can't do that, I watch anime. Jujutsu Kaisen is my favorite right now."

Ibou's face lit up. "No way! I love anime too! Have you seen the latest season?"

For the first time in what felt like forever, Iris felt herself genuinely smiling. "Not yet. I've been so busy with training and..."

"Say no more," Ibou grinned. "We'll have to watch it together sometime."

As the medic arrived and helped Iris to her feet, she became acutely aware of Ibou's hand still resting on her waist, steady and warm. It felt like a lifeline, grounding her as the world slowly stopped spinning. Suddenly, as if realizing what he was doing, Ibou dropped his hand, muttering a soft "sorry" under his breath.

The medic led her to a nearby chair, quickly setting up an IV drip packed with vitamins and fluids. As the cool liquid began to flow into her veins, Iris felt some of her exhaustion start to ebb away.

"Are you okay to continue?" the photographer asked, concern etched on his face.

Iris nodded, mustering up a weak smile. "Yeah, I can finish."

The photographer shook his head. "Let's take an early lunch break. Give you time to recover properly."

As the crew dispersed, Iris leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. The medic stayed nearby, monitoring her progress. After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, he unhooked the IV, pressing a colorful lollipop into her hand with a wink. "For being a good patient," he said with a grin.

Iris couldn't help but chuckle as she unwrapped the dum-dum. Who said being an adult wasn't fun?

Once she felt steady enough, Iris made her way to the lunch area, grabbing her phone from her bag before stepping outside. The photoshoot location was a dream - a picturesque Parisian garden not far from the Eiffel Tower. Lush greenery surrounded her, dotted with vibrant flowers that seemed to dance in the gentle breeze. In the distance, the Iron Lady herself stood proud against the clear blue sky.

Her phone buzzed, shattering the peaceful moment. A text from Marcus flashed across the screen, his anger about Ibou evident even through the digital medium. Iris rolled her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips.

Marcus had been... different lately. The clout-chasing, the bouts of jealousy - it wasn't like the Marcus she'd known back home. But she tried not to dwell on it too much. It was probably just the stress of sudden fame, right? Nothing to worry about.

"Beautiful view, huh?"

Ibou's voice from behind her made Iris jump slightly. She turned to find him standing there, two plates of food in his hands. He offered one to her with a smile.

"Thanks," she said, taking the plate. "And yeah, it's gorgeous here."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, taking in the scenery as they ate. Then Ibou spoke up again.

"So... have you seen the One Piece live-action on Netflix?"

Iris shook her head. "Not yet. Is it good?"

Ibou shrugged. "It's alright. I'm not a huge fan, to be honest, but it's decent. The anime is better, of course."

They fell into an easy conversation about anime, debating the merits of various shows.

"Oh," Ibou said suddenly, "about watching the new season of JJK together... maybe we could do a watch party?"

"That could be fun," Iris agreed.

"Great! I'll set it up. Can I get your number? To coordinate, you know."

Iris cocked her head to the side, a small smirk playing on her lips. "I have a boyfriend, remember?"

Ibou’s expression was all innocence. "Yeah, I know. But does that mean you're not allowed to have friends?"

Iris considered for a moment. He had a point, and besides, they'd be working together for the next couple of months anyway. What harm could it do?

With a shrug, she rattled off her number, which Ibou quickly punched into his phone. "Cool," he said, flashing that megawatt smile. "I'll text you so you have mine too."

As they headed back inside to resume the shoot, Iris felt lighter than she had in weeks. Maybe this campaign wouldn't be so bad after all. And hey, it never hurt to have another friend, right?

TO BE CONTINUED….