#ice cream cone ass head

[gotta-draw-em-all-daily]

Day eight hundred thirty three 833 Chewtle

[merakidoll]

this is apart of my pen pal!gojo series! warnings : nickname gogo used, riding, lactation, reader is pregnant, chubby, and a bimbo!

over the year that gojo was released from prison, your penpal quickly became your boyfriend, to now fiancé/ baby daddy! gojo was very quick with impregnating you loving how this sealed your fate to him, how now you had absolutely no excuse to be his. “go! let’s get ice cream!” you exclaimed pointing towards the small stand that had a young man standing there. he walked stiffly behind you, his much larger hand holding yours as he stood back holding your tote, and watching as you told the man exactly what you wanted.

gojo had found that with his obsession came lots of observing. he watched the man eye your large breast as he scoop the strawberry delight into the cone, his hand subconsciously pushing towards you more and wrapping around your belly. “so, what brings you here” gojo couldn’t hide the scoff that came from him, in his mind he was telling the man off, to which he knew you hated when he was rude to people.

you looked back at the large man with a pout, a soft ‘calm down i’m yours’, then turned back with a soft smile. “i wanted to see all the tables people had, we love small festivals!” you took your ice cream and handed him the bill expecting him to take it, but gojo knew he wasn’t - he knew he was gonna touch your hand, - caress your brown skin and tell you “it’s on the house gorgeous”.

now, gojo had many plans come that night. him pulling you away from the festival and to the car quickly driving home - to which he would be fuming. and the only thing that could ever calm him was you. “gogo, you’re all that m-matters to me” your pussy wrapped deliciously around him, your small bounces while he sucked on your leaking breast, crystal blue eyes shut and savoring all of your bodily flavor. he unlatched his salivating mouth and looked up at you with the sweetest eyes.

“only mine?” he bucked into your cunt, spreading your cheeks and bringing his mouth back to your brown nipple that to his eyes were screaming for attention. “o-only yours gojo, my sweet b-boyymm” at the sound of your words gojo’s angry vanished. the milk from your breast was already sizzling the fire within; but your words made him melt into a puddle. you bounceed on him, letting him hear all of your pretty sounds and the feeling of you pussy tighten around him as you came. “who’s pussy doll?” he slapped your ass, watching your pretty eyes roll to the back of your head. stimulation of him still moving as you orgasmed making you go wild.

“y-yours! y-yours gojo!” he smiled sisterly, bucking into you more, laying your head on his broad shoulder as he rubbed your back filling your pussy with his thick seamen. “mmh, and this dick is all yours baby.” he kissed your cheek becoming still and enjoying the closeness of cockwarming. he ignored the way your pussy dripped down onto him, the mix of you both combine. he enjoyed the soft snores you gave and deep sighs into the silence. all while his mind ran wild with thoughts. thoughts of when he put you into your sheared bed, after a nice bath how he’d be making a quick outing. to the man who deared try to flirt with you; especially in front of him.

[erwinsvow]

it’s like you were put on this earth to bother rafe.

everyday, without fail, come some sort of request—rafe, let’s go get coffee. rafe, i want ice cream. rafe, i wanna go to bed. he tells you to go to bed and you whine immediately after, letting out a faint “not alone! not what i meant!” before he rolls his eyes, one huge hand settling on your hip and the other one on your back, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to bed. 

once you finally get him there it’s all laughs and giggles and avoiding his gaze, getting shy again, refusing to tell him what you really want. he rolls his eyes and gives it to you hard, like he knows you need it, so you’ll fall asleep and let him finish his work in silence. and it works—for a few hours, that is. then you're up again, usually with more requests.

“rafe, they’re having a sale.” you fiddle with your R pendant, the way you always do when you want something and can’t find the words to just ask for it. for a girl pawing at his dick and begging for it raw half the time, you get awfully shy. 

“so? how many fuckin’ clothes do y’need?” 

“you’re the one who keeps ripping ‘em up! not my fault-”

he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

"knock it off," he says, coming out louder and more frustrated than he meant.

then he watches you quiet down and scroll on your phone, biting your cheek. he thinks he messed up and made you cry. he feels bad the second it's done, because there’s definitely some pretty, tiny dress pulled up on the screen that you want to show him. 

he knows how your brain works at this point—you want him to get it for you, take you out to a cute dinner so you can wear it and then have him yank it off of you later that night. you won’t ask for it though, there’s your shyness again. 

you feel bad when he actually does buy you anything more than a six-dollar latte or a big ice cream that you can’t finish.

"what're you looking at?" he finally asks, not even a minute later, looking at your body resting on the complete other side of the bed now.

"nothing."

"you gonna do this right now?"

"do what?"

"just show me what you want."

"no, it's nothing. i'll just ask my other boyfriend for it, it's fine-"

before your sentence is finished, he's already on top of you, squishing your cheeks together, pinning you down. he stares into your eyes, maybe expecting tears, but they don't come. instead you look... satisfied. satisfied with yourself for riling him up like you wanted.

"yeah? other boyfriend?"

"jus' a joke, rafey." your voice comes out all quiet and squeaky since he's holding your face tight. your eyes are big and wide staring up at him. he hates that he's getting hard right now. he lets you go, rolling off and feeling your body sink into his bed.

“get your ass in the car.” it comes out as a statement, not a request. you comply immediately, leaning over to give him a wet, sloppy kiss before stumbling out of bed to grab your shoes. he gets up too, looking for his keys, when you come right back to give him a hug. you press your head against his chest, arms wrapped tight around his neck, eyes fluttering shut, breathing in his scent.

“thank you, rafe,” you murmur against his shirt.

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he starts, but you don’t miss the way the tops of his ears are flushed with pink. “get the fuckin’ address for that place out-”

he does take you out to dinner, a cute place where he pulls out your chair for you and holds your hand in his on the table. he gets you flowers that match the color of your new dress, which are resting in the backseat of his car now. he kisses your cheek when he helps you put your jacket back on. then he slaps your ass when you’re getting into the passenger seat of his truck, because now it’s his turn to have fun with that dress.

later that night, close to sleep, you paw at his arm and ask for ice cream. the two of you are on the road five minutes later. he turns his head at the red light to watch you lick your cone. then you hold it up to his mouth so he can have some too, smiling and laughing when he takes a big bite.

he's starting to think he likes when you bother him for stuff.

[star-sim]

show me how ☆ jake sim

☆ non-idol! jake x fem! reader ☆ summary: jake didn't think his casual crush on you, his hot coworker at the local ice cream parlor, would flourish into anything. but one day, after a power outage during a shift, the two of you are forced to huddle up together to keep warm, opening up many, many, many doors into your relationship. ice cream was sweet and soft. and despite your appearance, so were you. ☆ genre: coworkers to lovers, fluff, a lot of bickering, alternative! reader, jake is kind of a loser, rock references, nonchalant crushes, summer romance, baddie reader, JAKE IS JUST REALLY DOWN BAD ☆ warning(s)? slightly suggestive? just tbh its js jake being really attracted to you LOL ☆ word count: 12.3k ☆ joining @bywons 1k event for "show me how" by men i trust. i had a little bit of a different approach to crushes this time. this is extremely late im so sorry enjoy!

"Can I get uhhhhh…"

Jake deadpanned for the 15th time in the past hour.

He was trying to be kind, to be understanding, to be loving in all ways possible… He really was.

But was it that difficult to order a mint chocolate cone with rainbow sprinkles?!

Jake watched as the snotty child before him picked his nose, his eyes glazing over the menu. It’s been ten minutes and this kid was taking too long to order. For fuck’s sake, he was holding up the line!

For his summer job, Jake started working at the ice cream parlor near the pier. He thought it was a good idea, since the pay was above minimum wage and he liked ice cream.

Wrong!

It was horrible!

From rude customers to his asshole of a boss to his incompetent coworkers, Jake dreaded coming into work everyday.

It was another summer afternoon, where Jake slaved away for his corporate overlords. Summer was only kicking off, so the June gloom stuck like glue. This morning, there were already storm warnings, so imagine Jake's surprise when a whole bunch of people went to the beach today and the ice cream parlor next to it.

"Please take your time," Jake said with a tight-lipped smile. Translation: I’ve given you enough time, kid. Hurry up and order or I’ll actually snap.

The kid blinked at Jake, before picking his nose. "Can I get uhhhh…"

Jake winced, but forced a smile with a nod. "Would you like any recommendations?"

Translation: You better tip me, you little punk.

By now, he could see the angry mothers and kids at the back of the line, quietly complaining about the hold-up. All Jake could do was smile apologetically, hanging his head in embarrassment.

And to Jake's horror, as the snotty little kid was still deciding on what he wanted to order, Jake could hear the back door creaking open, followed by a "Bye, Jake!" before it slammed.

Did Jake ever say that he hated his coworkers?

Today wasn't even Jake's shift, but he had to cover three shifts, because his other coworkers couldn't give a damn. They loved to leave early because they knew that Jake would work his ass off either way. So here he was, now forced to run an entire ice cream parlor with already angry customers all by himself!

"Actually, I don't want anything," the snotty kid blinked at Jake. "Bye, mister."

With that, the kid left, oblivious to Jake's gawking face.

You've got to be kidding me.

If it weren't for the fact that his name tag had his name printed in big, thick letters and that there was already a line of impatient customers, Jake might have yelled.

As he put on his customer-service voice for the next customer in line, Jake could hear the back door creak open again if he listened past the generic pop music playing in the background.

And the moment that he heard a familiar voice, Jake nearly ascended into the sky.

"Jake, I'm here!"

There was only one part of working at this dinky little ice cream parlor that Jake liked.

And it was you.

His savior, you.

You were the only coworker that actually did your work. In fact, you went above and beyond. The only shifts that seemed to be productive on all ends were when it was you and Jake.

If he could recall correctly, today wasn't your scheduled shift either. You were probably covering someone's shift like him, too.

And plus, you were cute.

Really cute.

Jake never really thought he had a "type" when it came to girls. In fact, Jake couldn't even remember the last time he had a crush. But the moment he saw your smudged eyeliner, constant annoyed look, the multiple tassel and charm bracelets on your wrists, and your black nail polish, he knew that you were his type.

You looked like you could probably scare a baby with a single look. Honestly, you could make Jake piss himself with a single look, too. And for some reason, he liked it. A lot. Which was weird.

Within seconds of just arriving, you were already throwing on your apron, fixing up your work uniform before appearing at the counter, ready to do your fucking job.

Jake tried his best to focus on the group of middle schoolers who giggled over every word as they ordered their ice cream, but even from behind him, he could hear you cleaning one of the scoopers and getting the keys for the second cash register. Even though all you were doing was your job, Jake couldn't help but straighten up his posture and run a hand through his hair as you took the register beside him. Just in case you spared him a glance, he had to look his best.

"Hi, what can I get you?" you said chirpily, putting on your best customer-service voice, something that Jake could tell was not your forte. Although he didn't know you seriously, he's had conversations in passing with you, whether it be on slow days, during breaks, or as the two of you closed up the parlor together. You never sounded as enthusiastic as you did now, as you happily helped an old lady pick her order.

You were cool like that.

Actually, really cool.

Jake couldn't think of anyone cooler than you.

And you were pretty, and hardworking, and honest, and responsible, and cooperative, and a little bit scary, but that was hot. You were also very kind to customers, and even though Jake could see your lips— which were nice, by the way— twitch, he could tell that you were trying your best, which was good, and—

"Um, sir, can I order now?"

Jake snapped out of his daze, tearing his eyes away from you.

"R-Right!"

Completely missing the way you rolled your eyes at him, though without a little chuckle.

It wasn't always easy being the only competent worker at the parlor. While it meant you got paid more for covering so many shifts, you couldn't say it was fun working the late shifts.

The parlor closed at 11PM on weekdays, so here you were, working late into the night. 

You yawned as you rang up the last customer of the night, using all of your last bits of strength to muster a smile, before saying, "Have a good night!"

As the door slammed shut, the building winds outside providing more than enough force to ring through the entire parlor, you let out a sigh.

"They're gone, Jake," you called.

From inside the break room, you could hear Jake groan something muffled but definitely, "Finally."

Jake Sim was the only coworker you could rely on. He was the only person your age, both of you were freshly graduated highschoolers working to prepare for college experiences. Despite his party-boy look, he was surprisingly diligent. You definitely noticed how he ended up picking up another person's shift, just like you. Unlike everyone else, he actually gave a damn, which you could appreciate.

Tonight was no different from any other.

It was just Jake and you, working the closing shift together.

The moment you entered the break room, you let out an exasperated sigh, leaning on the door frame. Jake, too, was slumped over on the table, his face buried in his arms.

Your shitty coworkers always tried to convince you that you should be happy to work extra shifts: extra pay, more work experience, have a good rep with the boss.

But what they didn't mention was how absolutely draining it was to work 7 hours straight in a short-staffed busy ice cream parlor.

"Why were there so many people?" Jake groaned, shoving his face deeper into his arms. If you weren't exhausted out of your mind, you would've thought the scene before you was a funny sight. Jake, in his silly white uniform designed to look like that of a sailor's and crooked worker hat, practically melting on the break room table.

"And why were there only two of us?" you added, letting your eyelids fall shut as you leaned against the door frame.

Though, you would say, you did like working for one extra reason: Jake Sim himself.

He was as cute as a button, and pretty easy to talk to.

Jake lifted his head, quickly checking his phone.

"No seriously," he rested his face on his fist. "It was cold and dreary all day— and wasn't there a storm warning?— Why would anyone want to get ice cream on a day like this?"

You shrugged. "Beats me."

The two of you stayed in the break room in silence for a few more moments, catching your breaths after a long day. "Let's get outta here, Jake."

Here was your favorite part of the work day: closing up. Not just because it meant that you got to leave, but you could do whatever you wanted.

Jake locked up the front door and flipped the sign, while you locked up front displays and cash registers. The two of you tidied up the breakroom (which was empty because your slobs of coworkers weren't here), before pulling out the mops and cleaning up the floor.

This was the fun part.

"Hey!" Jake cried as you splashed water onto the floor, your wet mop sludging up the water as it moved against the checkered floor. Looks like some of the water got onto his pants. "What was that for?"

You shrugged, with a sly grin. "No reason in particular— Hey!"

Jake shook off the excess water on his mop, pointed directly at you, the water droplets spraying all over your shirt.

"See?" he pointed to the wet drops on your shirt. "We're even now."

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was being playful.

It was fun now because this was the time that you could play whatever music you wanted. Your manager always insisted that you'd play generic pop music during store hours, but now that it was closed, you could play any music you wanted. And it was great, because you and Jake had the same music taste.

"Really?" you whipped your head over to Jake as he passed your phone, which controlled the sound system, back to you. "Bon Jovi?"

You winced as loud vocals, strong guitar riffs, and a drum louder than you could imagine blasted through the speakers.

"Bon Jovi is good!" Jake shouted all the way from the freezers.

Maybe your taste was just a little bit different.

Jake was a cool guy. He really was. Very personable and someone that you could have fun with, even if you weren't that close to him. But sometimes his music choices were too much.

"You have no reason to be blasting hard rock at 11PM," you murmured.

"I heard that!"

You stifled a chuckle.

As you cleaned the floors, you nodded your head to the music. You could hear humming along wherever he was. It was all quiet, only the sound of mops, the freezers' buzzing, and your queued music playing in the background. It was small moments like his that made you want to keep working (other than the pay).

And plus, the parlor was very close to the beach.

At times like this, you could hear seagulls squawking overhead, with waves crashing against the shoreline.

Which... now that you thought about it...

Why couldn't you hear any of that?

Usually, even if Jake was blasting the hardest rock, you could still hear the sounds of the sea.

But now, all you heard was wind.

You glanced out the window.

Palm trees blew against the night sky. Wind whirled, creating a howling sound.

And before you could think anything of it, you heard two things: the back door slamming, and the sound of electricity buzzing.

One moment you could see everything, and the next moment it was completely dark.

Your blood ran cold.

The music stopped. The buzzing of the freezers stopped, too. It was completely dark, so dark that you couldn't even see your own hands, save for the single stream of moonlight leaking through the front windows.

You would consider yourself a calm person, you really would.

But in that moment, you felt panic set in.

Because here you were, working a late shift in a tiny little ice cream parlor in the middle of the beach, with no one but your teenage coworker. And now all the power went out.

And because you were afraid of the dark.

The mop in your hand dropped, clunking! against the checkered flooring.

Your heart pounded, so loud that you could hear it in your ears. You could feel it jumping out of your chest.

"J-Jake?" you called out.

No response.

Your mind did wonders to scare you, and now it was working over time.

What happened to Jake? Did he disappear with the lights too? You dug your teeth into your bottom lip.

Were you all alone in the dark? Just you and this dark abyss, a dark abyss so suffocating yet so cold that you couldn't even tell if you were standing or curled up. By this time, your legs were feeling weak, so you wouldn't be surprised if you were on the floor, your knees to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

The howling of the wind sent chills down your spine. Realistically, nothing could get you. You were just at work, like always, but it was just dark. But you felt like something would jump out at you, something scary and from your worst nightmares. It would get you, maybe hurt you. Were you going to die? Why did you feel so alone? What happened to everyone? What happened to Jake—

"[Name]?"

At the sound of a familiar voice, your eyes shot open.

But instead of being met with a pure, unknown darkness, you were met with a tall figure before you, completely shrouded in darkness, save for the stream of yellow light coming to illuminate its face.

Terrifying.

You let out a shriek as you jumped back.

What the hell was that? Was that what got Jake?—

It took a step forward, and before you could scream again—

"[Name]!" it was Jake's voice. He reached out for you, his hand resting on your shoulder. "It's me, Jake!"

You heard a bit of clicking, and it was then that you realized that the scary figure that you saw was just Jake with a flashlight. You relaxed.

"You okay?" Jake crouched down to your curled up figure, the yellow light of the flashlight glimmering against the floor. Although your eyes had slightly adjusted to the darkness, you could see your hands now. "I think the power went out."

You nodded slowly, still with your knees against your chest. Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You felt Jake's hand reach out for yours, interlocking fingers before giving it a squeeze.

Boom!

You jumped away from Jake, a small "eep!" escaping your lips.

Jake flinched, pointing the flashlight at the front windows.

"Thunder," he muttered under his breath. Although all the streetlights and signs had shut down too, he could see the lightning as it struck in the night sky.

He glanced at your startled form.

"Damnit," he cursed under his breath. "There was a storm warning earlier."

You hid your face in your palms.

This was everything that you didn't want to happen.

It was completely dark, and here you were practically trapped inside. It was impossible to get home, because the roads were all dark, and there was probably an oncoming storm, too. It was cold, and it was just you and your coworker. You just wanted to go home!

Although he couldn't see your face, Jake could sense your uneasiness. 

"C'mon," he tugged at your hand. "Let's go to the back."

Although Jake bumped into a few tables and counters on the way to the break room, he didn't mind. After all, there was you, who was clearly startled. He'd rather get a bruise on his hip than you.

He could hear your breath hitching, small whimpers of fear tumbling out as he led you through the dark abyss. Jake had to admit, it was much scarier when it was completely dark than when it wasn't.

The breakroom wasn't much better than in the middle of the floor, but at least there were chairs. Not that it mattered.

You and Jake decided to sit under the break table, shoulder to shoulder with the flashlight between you.

It was silent. You couldn't see Jake, but the feeling of him next to you relieved only some of your anxiety.

The flashlight only illuminated enough for you to see a few feet around you. Otherwise, everything else was a dark, bottomless void.

You knew it was illogical and practically impossible for something else to be lurking. But as minutes passed in silence, the thought of something—or someone— prowling in the dark and ready to jump out at you gnawed at you more and more. Goosebumps rose along your arms, the hair on your neck standing.

"I'm scared, Jake," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I'm so scared."

Thunder boomed in the air, lightning crackled, while heavy rain began to shower down. You jumped at the sound, your hands immediately shooting to grab Jake's arm and leaning into his touch. You squeezed your eyes shut, a scared squeak escaping your lips.

"I'm scared!" you squealed.

Jake's brows furrowed, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.

"Hey," he said into your ear, watching as you curled up against him, clutching his arm tight. "Hey, I got you."

Your hold on him only tightened as another round of thunder boomed through the night. "Open your eyes, [Name]. It's okay."

You shook your head profusely, your face pressed into his shoulder.

"Nothing's gonna get ya," he whispered, slowly rubbing circles on your back. "You're okay."

You shook your head again.

"It's so dark," you peeped. "Too dark."

"It's okay," Jake's voice was soft, soft as a cloud as he comforted you. "I'm here. I got you."

You nodded into his shoulder, but you kept your face pressed against it, not letting up.

Jake watched you, both with a soft heart and with wide eyes.

He wouldn't say he knew you too well. Even so, he'd spent a lot of time with you this summer so far, he had a few good memories with you. You were always so... cool.

Always on-task, always ready to fight a rude customer, always ready to speak up if you thought something was wrong.

It was weird. Seeing someone that Jake had always seen as a pillar of support one way or another completely drop that image of strength was… something that he never expected.

Here you were, so vulnerable in his arms.

Jake would have never expected you to be afraid of the dark, let alone some thunder, but he didn't mind. Even with your eyes closed, and even with his arms wrapped around you, you still jolted at each crackle in the sky.

If only he could do something to help you...

Jake let out an 'ah' sound.

He leaned into your ear, whispering right against the shell of your ear, "I'll be right back."

You let out another squeak as you felt Jake slipping away from you, yet he didn't take the flashlight with him.

"J-Jake—!"

"I'm still here," he said, yet you heard as he took a few steps. He was rummaging through his bag. He tried his best to feel for what he was looking for: a small, square case. "I'm with you, don't worry."

And as quick as he left your side he was back. Jake slithered his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your eyes widened a fraction as Jake fished for his phone from his back pocket.

"What were you—" you furrowed your brows— "Why’d you get up?"

You could feel Jake turn his head to look at you, and you could hear him grin.

"To get this." In his palm, Jake revealed a small, square case. His earbuds.

You blinked. "W-Why?"

"Don't worry about it." You watched confused as Jake took his earbuds out, jabbing it into the headphone port of his phone. Then, he handed you both of the ears.

"For you," he said simply.

As you were about to object, lightning striked again in the sky, yet another squeal coming from you.

You took his earbuds, jamming them into your ear.

Jake pressed the first song in his playlist.

And if you weren't scared out of your mind right now, you would have yelled at him.

Because really?

Bon Jovi?

At a time like this?

The music was loud enough that you could be distracted, but quiet enough that you could still hear Jake's voice. And when Jake noticed that you were relaxed enough, he opened his mouth.

"I'm surprised you didn't want to rip out my earbuds the moment you heard Bon Jovi," he said.

You elbowed him, yet you were still clinging onto him for dear life.

"Read the room, man," you muttered. "I'm scared shitless."

Jake laughed, and you rolled your eyes again. "This is the only time that I'll willingly listen to Bon Jovi."

"Hey!" Jake cried. "Bon Jovi is a good band."

You shot him a look. "Play some Pink Floyd, something."

You cursed Jake. Of course he'd let you listen to his music, because he got to control it!

"Nah," Jake said. "Bon Jovi is perfect for rainy nights."

You scoffed. "In what world?"

You could hear him grin again. "In my world."

What a loser.

You could see his phone screen light up, probably texts from his parents, but he ignored it. Jake’s phone was on the floor on the other side of him, the side that you were not on.

“Are you sure you won’t play Pink Floyd?” you asked slowly.

“Nope.”

Extreme times call for extreme measures.

Your arm reached across Jake’s lap, jerking to take his phone.

“Hey!” Jake yelped, squirming away from you in a way that blocked your hand from reaching his phone. “What the hell are you—“

“I’m changing the song!”

The two of you struggled like that for a few more moments, and then the next thing you knew you were on Jake’s lap, your arms pinned above your head.

“Let go of me!” you writhed, the earbuds in your eyes still blasting the hardest rock you’ve ever heard. Although you managed to take Jake’s phone, there wasn’t much you could do if he was pinning your hands above you.

“Then give me my phone back,” Jake ignored your struggling.

“Then change the song!”

“No!”

You huffed, continuing your attempt to wriggle out of Jake’s hold, but alas, he was stronger than you. “How are you so strong—“

Boom! Crackle! Thunder and lightning struck.

“Eep!” Immediately, you collapsed onto Jake’s chest, pressing your face into his shirt. You clung onto him, squeezing your eyes shut. When you could feel his chest rumble with a few chuckles, you punched his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Jake chuckled again, but he only pulled you in closer by the waist, allowing you to cling to him more comfortably.

As the storm raged on, any hope that the power would be back up was lost. Jake's phone still had service, but you could tell he was being polite and not going on his phone to not make you feel alienated. Your phone was somewhere in the front, probably on a counter or something.

"We really shouldn't have agreed to cover shifts today," you murmured, your cheek pressed against Jake's chest.

Jake hummed.

He wanted to get past the way that anytime you spoke to Jake, it was either about music or work. He didn't mind talking about these things with you, but he wished he could say more. He wanted to know what you were thinking, and hear about what you liked and disliked, what silly stories or memories you had to tell him.

He wanted to get to know you.

“What’s your favorite color?”

???

"What?"

Jake blinked. "What's your favorite color?"

You stared at him. "Why?"

He shrugged under you. "I dunno. I just wanted to get to know you better."

"Oh." What a simple reason. It made sense for such a simple question. "I like black."

Jake scoffed. "That's not a color."

"Huh? Then what is it?"

"A shade."

"Says who?"

"Says science!"

And then it was quiet again (at least on Jake's part, you were still listening to his music)

But not quite awkward.

Despite the compromising position that you were in, there wasn't any feeling of embarrassment or discomfort.

That's how Jake would describe how he felt toward you. It was an easy thing. You were cool and pretty, and he liked you. Nothing more, nothing less. No games to play, no extra calculations or hours of planning. He liked you, and he was just going to do what felt right. It was as straightforward as that.

"What are you doing after this summer?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

That's right. You and Jake had never discussed much about your personal lives, like where you went to high school, what your plans were post-high school, etc.

And now that the two of you were alone, in the dark, with virtually nothing to do, it was the perfect time to talk about it.

"I'm going up to Santa Barbara," Jake said coolly. "I'm studying biomed engineering."

"Oooh," you mused. "How exciting."

Jake let out a chuckle. "You don't sound excited."

"I am," you deadpanned, and Jake couldn't hold back a laugh.

"What about you?" Jake asked. "What are you doing?"

Even though it was dark, Jake could hear you frown.

"I'm going to Davis for International Business." You paused. "I don't know."

"Whaddaya mean?"

You shrugged. "I dunno if it's really my passion. I just chose it because—"

You're interrupted by a loud bang! followed by buzzing. You jolted, tensing up in Jake's hold, whose hand shot to the small of your back protectively.

"Eek!" you cried, and the next thing you knew, all the lights were back on.

You and Jake stayed where you were for a few moments, long enough for the freezers in the back to start buzzing again. As if someone just snapped their fingers, everything turned back on. The bright lights hitting your darkness-adjusted eyes made your eyes water.

"Oh," Jake said plainly. "The lights are back on."

"No shit, Sherlock," you muttered, earning a pinch to your side. It was now that you and Jake really realized your current positions: you were on top of him, with your head resting on his shoulders, with his arms wrapped around your waist. And it seemed like the two of you realized this at the same time.

"We should—" Jake averted his gaze from you, finding the floor next to him very interesting.

"Yeah, you're right, we should—" you slowly pulled away from him, grimacing at the feeling of Jake's arms slipping away from you.

"Yup, and—" Jake trailed off, not fully completing his thought.

Awkward.

The two of you were back on your feet in no time, both with slightly-disheveled work uniforms, but hey, it was to be expected.

Together, the two of you inspected the parlor. Just in case something slipped in while it was dark (even though that was virtually impossible).

Everything was exactly as you left it.

The mop that you dropped on the floor, your phone on the counter, the keys to the freezer that Jake threw by accident, even the messy chairs.

"Are you scared right now?" Jake asked with a chuckle as you stayed close behind him, your fingers clutching his broad shoulders. From time to time you'd peek around him, but for the most part, you stared straight at his back, unwilling to look ahead. Just in case a monster jumped out!

"I'm not." Lie.

Jake laughed, but before he could poke fun at you more—

Boom!

Oh right, the storm.

Like a cat, you jumped almost immediately, gripping Jake's shoulders for dear life.

Jake peeked out the windows. The streetlamps and signs were illuminated again.

"Looks like all the lights are back up," he said. He glanced over his shoulder to you, who clung to him. "I think we can go home now. The storm's dying down already."

You nodded, and the two of you finished closing up in silence, before preparing to leave.

"Do you have a ride?" Jake asked you as the two of you packed up your things.

Shit.

"My mom was going to pick me up because she didn't want me driving late at night," you groaned. "I'll call her right no—"

"No," Jake shook his head, reaching inside his pocket. You watched as he really shoved his hands in there, like he was searching for something. At last, after digging through his pockets for what felt like hours, he pulled out a bunch of keys, with a tiny lego keychain dangling off of it. "I'll drive you home."

After that day, you weren't called into work again for a few days. In those few days, for some weird reason, you couldn't get Jake off your mind. Which you thought was weird.

You never really thought about Jake aside from work. And it wasn't even the fact that you were thinking about him! It was the fact that you felt weird for feeling weird about thinking about him. If that even made sense.

He's always been cute. Gentlemanly, too.

When he drove you home the other day, he insisted that you didn't need to pay him back for driving you home. In fact, he said that he'd rather use more gas than have you wait alone at the parlor to be picked up. He opened and closed the door for you, showed you how to control the heaters so that you could be warm, and even let you play your music!

He was reliable too, someone that you knew you could count on. And he was very kind, because no matter how many rude customers there were, he understood that everyone was human and served them with a smile. Unlike you, who always exercised that "we reserve to deny you service" right.

These were all things that you knew. It was no surprise. You knew these things.

But after that day, you couldn't help but feel like it was... amplified.

Jake was cute, but now he was cuter. Way cuter.

He felt even more gentlemanly and reliable and kind now. Him going out of his way to comfort you, even if it meant that you had to listen to his god-awful music, warmed your heart.

And that was the weird part.

It was just so odd. You couldn't stop thinking about him. And you felt all weird and mushy for thinking about him, which made you feel even weirder!

You didn't really get it.

Surely, it wasn't a crush.

It wasn't like you were all over the place, distracted and spacy and blushing now that Jake was on your mind. You weren't rolling around and kicking your feet, nor were you giggling.

But you would be lying if you said that the simple thought of his name didn't make you excited.

Meanwhile, Jake knew exactly what was happening to him.

And it was that his crush on you definitely deepened tenfold.

In the moment, when he was with you, whether it be the other day or any other day at all, he was always nonchalant. It was a casual crush, he'd say. Everything was straightforward with no games to play.

But that was a lie.

Because here he was, lying on his bed and staring at his ceiling. He hugged his pillow, embarrassingly pretending that it was you. He felt like a weirdo, but he couldn't get the feeling of you clinging to him and in his arms out of his head!

Just the mere thought of that night made him have to roll around and giggle for a few moments.

Jake sucked in the scent of his pillows. Unfortunately, they didn't smell like you, just like laundry with a faint scent of his own cologne.

You were so pretty, and cool, and kind, and smart, and practical, and just everything good in the world. And then when you got scared and clung to him, it made his heart flutter, because who knew you could be so cute?

Jake let out a squeal into his pillow, his cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling.

For the first time ever, Jake actually wanted to go to work. Just to see you.

He couldn't wait for it.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," you said for the millionth time today. "We don't have that here—"

Another day at work. Just when the idea of going to work didn't sound too bad, you're reminded why you hate it.

Apparently some kids on TikTok spread a rumor that your parlor had a special, limited-edition, summer unicorn flavor. And even worse, your damn social media manager was hinting at it on Instagram, too.

So here you were now, trying to explain to a hoard of angry customers that this limited-edition unicorn flavor was absolutely false. To think that your own social media manager would betray you and your coworkers like this just to attract more customers... You shouldn't be unsurprised but you were.

Diabolical.

It must've been the 90th time in the past hour that you had to explain that you had no fucking clue what a unicorn flavor would be, and if you weren't a tired and overworked teenager, you would've felt bad when a little girl bursted into tears in the middle of the store.

Cry about it, you thought, and you couldn't tell if that sentiment was towards your angry customers, or if it was towards upper management that were about to get multiple complaints about you.

Breathe, you had to tell yourself. It's not worth it. Where was everyone else anyway? You couldn't believe that you were left completely alone to operate the establishment on your own. And most of your coworkers were older than you anyway. Those bums!

You sucked in another breath, putting on your best smile.

"You're telling me that you don't actually have the limited-edition unicorn flavor?!" an angry father crossed his arms, upset with his children cowering beside him.

"No, sir," you said as politely as you could. "That was just a rumor. My apologies for the inconven—"

"Unacceptable!"

You winced, feeling your ears warm up. If everyone in the parlor wasn't already watching you like a hawk, all eyes were now on you.

"I had to drive two hours here," the father slammed his hand on the counter, leaning in so close that you could smell him. "I drove two hours here for unicorn ice cream and you're telling me that it was all a lie?!"

All of this.... for ice cream?"

"I apologize, sir," you hung your head low to appear genuine, clasping your hands together. "That must have been a long ride and—"

"Shut up and give me my ice cream, you bi—" Your eyes widened a fraction as you saw a big palm swinging your way... Was he about to slap you? In the milliseconds that you could even react, you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the stinging feeling of a hand against your cheek.

But instead, you felt nothing, only the sound of a few gasps and light chuckling.

"Hey, there, sir," you heard Jake's voice as you peeled your eyes open.

Jake was beside you, his hand wrapped around the man's wrist that was mere inches away from your face.

"J-Jake?!"

The man struggled in Jake's grip, attempting (and failing horribly) to pull his wrist out of Jake's hand.

"Let go of me, boy!" he yelled. Everyone's eyes were on the scene now. How embarrassing.

Jake narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip.

"Here at Layla's Ice Cream Parlor, we reserve the right to deny any patron service," he said plainly.

The man scoffed. "And are you about to deny me service? What are you, the manager?"

Jake only shook his head calmly.

"You were about to assault my coworker here," he motioned toward you, then to the man's still-raised hand. "I don't need to be any manager to realize that someone of that sort has no business here."

Jake shot him a smile, before roughly letting go of his wrist, letting it fall to the counter.

"Please leave, sir."

He glanced around the room, noticing the way everyone stared at him. Another tight-lipped smile spread on his face.

"There are no limited-edition summer flavors, so if that is what you are here for, I apologize for the disappointment. " Jake glanced at you. "Please help yourself to the flavors that we actually have."

With that, Jake took you by the wrist, pulling you into the breakroom.

"W-Wait Jake—!" you tried to pull out of his grasp. "There's still customers out there."

He gently pushed you down onto a chair.

Jake crouched down at your sitting figure, putting his hands on your knees. He squeezed them playfully. "You've done enough today. I'll handle the rest."

"But— But there's a lot of people today," you reasoned, placing your hands on his. "You can't run the entire place on your own...!"

But before the last syllables could even leave your lips, Jake was already retying his apron, fixing his dumb uniform hat. Before he slinked away through the door, he glanced over his shoulder, gripping the door frame.

"I'll prove you wrong," he said with a grin. "Just watch."

(You were right, he was wrong. Not even the most exemplary worker like Jake could handle an entire exuberant ice cream parlor by himself. The moment you saw his tired eyes you were already throwing on your apron. Though, you got a good laugh out of it afterwards.)

You deadpanned.

This was not what you signed up for.

It was Saturday, the day that you swore was your break day from work. And then all of a sudden you got an urgent call from your manager and you rushed to work immediately.

You thought that the parlor got robbed, or maybe something broke down.

Nope.

"You want me..." you blinked, "To wear that?!"

Lo and behold, before you was a comically large ice cream costume, with a brown waffled body for the cone and the most obnoxious white swirl reaching high in the ceiling, with only a circular cut-out to see your face.

Apparently, sales were dwindling, so your managers decided to try out some new advertising.

You were going to wear that godforsaken ice cream costume and hang outside the parlor to attract customers.

"Kid-friendly language only," your manager instructed you matter-of-factly. "No swearing, no saying mean words."

You tuned him out.

And if the walk of shame out of the bathroom in your ice cream costume wasn't bad enough, you were hit with the last thing you wanted to see: Jake Sim.

You were about to jump and shriek and let the ground open up and devour you whole... when you realized that he was wearing an ice cream costume too...!

"You too?!" you cried. Behold, in front of you stood your favorite coworker Jake Sim with an equally deadpan expression, clad in the ridiculous ice cream costume.

"Yup," Jake muttered, popping the p. "I guess we'll never be free."

And he was indeed correct.

There was truly nothing more mortifying than standing outside the damn ice cream parlor, holding an even more obnoxiously bright sign and trying to attract customers... all in your humiliating ice cream costume.

Kids laughed at you from across the street. Cars that passed by you probably did the same. Absolutely demoralizing.

"Come to Layla's Ice Cream Parlor," you said in a monotone voice, trying your very best to not burst into tears of sheer embarrassment. "We have ice cream... and... uh—"

You glanced at Jake, whispering to him, "What else do we have?"

"Ice cream." He said, absolutely no expression in his voice or face. Oh god, we must have lost him too! "Nothing but ice cream."

Poor guy, he looked like he wanted to disappear.

This must have been a punishment, or something. Maybe a humiliation ritual. But after a good ten minutes, you and Jake just decided to commit to the bit. After all, you were getting paid extra for this.

"Ice cream, ice cream!" you and Jake chanted as you paraded around the vicinity of the parlor. After all, there was nothing you could do but make the best of it. You went out of your way to speak to oncoming customers, advertising with the most energy you could. "Come to Layla's Ice Cream!"

But it wasn't always easy.

Like always, customers and children were rude.

"Hello, miss, are you interested in trying some of Layla's yummy yummy ice cre—" and then you got laughed at. Like actually. They just started pointing and laughing at you. Like you were some freak.

And then Jake tried to square up some little kids a few times, it was a mess.

And finally, after what felt like years out there trying to advertise to people, your manager finally called you guys back in. Apparently, you and Jake did such a wonderful job that you guys were needed back at the front. Your coworkers couldn't seem to keep up. Lazy asses.

You and Jake went back inside to change back into your work uniforms— those stupid blue and white sailor uniforms. Except, one of your coworkers was having an "emergency" in the staff bathroom (you were certain it was just Beomgyu sitting on the toilet with his phone and refusing to do his job), so both you and Jake had to change in the staff break room.

At the same time.

"Okay, you will change, and I will cover you—"

"Shut up!" you exclaimed. "Why can't we just change at the same time?"

Jake was being terribly awkward about it.

"B-Because!" he reasoned, unable to hide the way he couldn't look you in the eye. "Because.... you're a girl, and I'm a guy!"

"Aaaaand?" you drew out your syllables, crossing your arms over your chest.

"We can't possibly change in the same room?" Jake cried. "What if— What if I accidentally see your—"

Your cheeks warmed up. What was he on about? "You're not going to!"

Your boss was really annoying about punctuality, so you and Jake should probably change quickly anyway. You ignored Jake's fussing, raising your arms as you began to pull your shirt over your head.

"What are you—"

"Just change!"

In the end, you guys just did the easiest option: turning around so that you faced opposite directions while the other changed... which should have been intuitive for Jake (but he's a little slow).

When you two were both done changing, you turned back around to face Jake, about to let out your grievances about working.

Except, when you saw him, you couldn't help but let out a giggle.

Because your work uniform was supposed to resemble that of a sailor, there were a few complex pieces, such as the sailor scarf draped over your shoulders and neck. Usually, you need a mirror to tie it properly. There was also the damn paper sailor hat that you had to wear.

Since you weren't changing in the bathroom, there was no mirror, so poor Jake's hat and tie were sloppily done, crooked on his person.

"Jake," you smiled, motioning for him to come toward you. And when he was close enough, you yanked him even closer to you by his shoulders, causing him to let out a yelp.

"W-What are you doing?" he asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice.

You giggled again. Your hands began to work on his tie, undoing his sloppy tie and neatly folding it. "Relax, you big baby."

When you were done with his tie, you fixed Jake's hat, oblivious to the way Jake's ears and neck turned a noticeable shade of red.

"There you go," you said with a grin. "All good!"

Jake looked at you with shaky eyes. You were close to him now. Close enough that he could feel your breath fanning his cheeks. Close enough that if he just leaned in a bit more, he could kiss you— Jake jerked himself away from you abruptly. His heart was pounding in his chest at an abnormal rate.

Don't think about kissing her when she's right in front of you! he scolded himself. You gave him a questioning look, before you just grinned again and left the break room.

Ah, Jake was going crazy.

Man, fuck you Beomgyu! you mentally cursed your other coworker. You were absolutely correct; earlier he was indeed hogging the staff bathroom so that he could shirk his responsibilities. According to Jake, Beomgyu did this really often, to the point that the staff bathroom ran out of soap too fast because Beomgyu was busy playing with soap and making dumb ass bubbles in there.

Of all times, it had to be now that the staff bathroom just decided to run out of soap?

It was getting late, so your manager told you to start cleaning. And just as you began, some little unsupervised middle schooler skateboarded right into you, spilling his three scoops of chocolate ice cream with layers of caramel and peanut butter sauce all over your white uniform.

And all you were given were a few measly napkins to wipe but the sticky sweet mess, only after you cleaned up the mess on the floor. Now as you desperately tried to clean the mess off your uniform in the staff bathroom, you were certain that your manager was going to yell at you later.

As you reached for another hand towel from the dispenser, you let out a groan as you realized that there were no more. Seriously, what was Beomgyu doing in here that he just used up all the soap and paper towels?

"[Name]," you heard a knock on the door. It was Jake. "You good in there?"

You groaned again.

"No!" you cried from the other side of the door. You were frustrated, how bothersome! Even if there were more paper towels, there still was a giant brown stain on your shirt. And you'd probably have to get another uniform. "It looks like a shit stain!"

You heard Jake chuckle from the other side of the door, before his footsteps retreated. After a few minutes, Jake came back.

"Can I come in?" he asked, knocking again on the bathroom door.

"Door's unlocked."

Except, instead of seeing Jake in his usual work uniform, he had a big black hoodie thrown over him, probably one that he was wearing before he changed into his uniform earlier. In his hands was a white shirt.

"Wear this," he said as he shoved the white shirt into your hands.

It was his own uniform shirt.

"But—" you tried to reason with him, but he put his hand up, silencing you.

"Can't have you walking around with a shit stain on your shirt," he said with a cheeky grin, earning him a slap on the arm.

"But you'll get in trouble," you breathed. Your manager was really particular about workers wearing uniforms, and for some reason not about workers actually doing their job.

Jake shrugged. "It's about time I did." And flashed you another smile. "And plus, I was going to get in trouble anyway. Apparently, defending my coworker from a rude customer is punishable."

Ah, the unicorn ice cream incident from a few weeks ago.

Was he really that willing to get in trouble for you?

As you closed the door to the bathroom, you could already hear your manager and another coworker making their comments about Jake. Although you couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, it must have been the usual remarks about inefficiency. And probably about how he wasn't wearing work-appropriate clothes.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you listened to their muffled voices.

Jake was really getting in trouble all for your sake.

As you buttoned up his white shirt, you noted that it carried the scent of his cologne. It smelled good, and you instinctively brought the sleeve up to your nose to catch a better whiff. But then you felt weird and stopped immediately.

It wasn't fair. Everything about your job.

You and Jake had to do all the work, but even so, the managers were disproportionately harsher with Jake than they were with you. Probably because of some sexist bullshit.

And then there were rude and entitled customers.

Jake was taking the fall for you too much.

And you couldn't keep letting it happen.

As you made your way out of the staff bathroom, you could hear your manager berating Jake, with another coworker joining in.

"And why are you not in our employee dress code?" your manager chided. "This is unacceptable! A hoodie? What do you think will happen to our store's brand?"

Jake just hung his head low, but you could tell he was annoyed more than anything. "It was because [Name]'s shirt got ruined, and she was uncomfortable."

"And what business do you have with [Name]?" your coworker joined in lambasting the poor Jake.

"Look, man," Jake looked up at them. "I was just helpin' her out." Jake paused for a moment. "And plus it's closing hours anyway. It's not like anyone sees me out of uniform."

Your manager and coworker thought for a few moments, before your coworker said, "Well, you're still causing a hindrance for our parlor. I think we will cut you weekly pay—"

His weekly pay? Ridiculous. Your body moved on its own, and before you knew it, you had bursted through the door.

"I-It was my fault!" you blurted, your lips moving faster than you could think. "Jake was just helping me."

You ignored the way Jake looked at you with eyes big as saucers, surprised. You swiped your tongue over your lip. "I-It's really my fault. If there's anyone that should get their weekly pay cut, it should be me."

Jake's face visibly contorted, his brows crashing together. "[Name]—"

"That's enough," your manager finally spoke up. The older man sighed, before checking his wrist watch. "Jake, [Name], just forget about it. Don't make this mistake again. Just close up for the night."

And with that, you and Jake were left alone once more.

"What was that all about?" Jake asked you as the two of you closed up.

"What was what?"

Jake huffed, leaning on the mop. "You know, what happened earlier about uniforms?"

"Oh." You shrugged, not really paying him any mind. "What about it?"

Jake huffed again. "Y'know... Why did you step in?"

You finally looked at him, before blinking a few times. "Isn’t it obvious?"

Jake smiled. "No, that’s why I’m asking you."

You scoffed playfully. "Okay, smartass."

You paused for a few moments. "You’re my friend, Jake. You’ve protected me in the past, so I'm just returning the favor."

"Thank you," Jake replied, unable to hide the smile growing on his face. "That's very kind of you.

You just hummed in response, going back to cleaning up.

Jake teetered on his feet, back and forth, as he played with his fingers. His heart pounding in his chest, Jake chewed on his bottom lip.

He was nervous.

Just this morning, you texted him if he wanted to hang out with you, because as you said, you were bored.

Hanging out? With you? The hottest girl that he's ever seen? There was no way in hell that he'd say no to such a golden opportunity.

You'd told Jake to meet you at the pier, because there was a nice mall area around there. As you relayed in your texts, you were going on vacation in a few weeks, and needed to go shopping for it.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't have any ulterior motives. You weren't really sure how you felt about Jake. He was cute, and sweet, and you definitely wanted to get to know him better. And there was a part of you that desperately wanted to impress him.

Maybe today could be an opportunity for you.

You checked your reflection in the car window before you got out of your mom's car. Muttering a "bye," you made your way toward where you told Jake to meet you.

It was a sunny day. You chose to wear something breathable, a pretty pink sundress with a cardigan. You didn't dress like this on most days. You liked to opt for dark colors, but today you wanted to be... cute.

Pretty for Jake.

You spotted Jake pretty easily. Not because he had anything that made him physically easy to identify, not at all. It was more like... you simply could just spot him. It was like you had a newfound Jake-radar.

"Hi," you said with a smile. And for some reason, it seemed like Jake was startled, with his eyes widening as he caught sight of you. "Are you okay?"

Jake stared at you for a few moments, and you swore you saw the way his eyes looked you up and down. His lips parted, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he swiped his tongue over his lips.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment. You didn't wear light colors normally, was it obvious that this dress was not something that you usually wear? Did you look strange? Maybe you should've worn your typical black clothing, and—

"N-No," Jake stammered, his eyes still looking you up and down. Truth be told, he had to bite back a "damn." Because yes, damn, you looked hot. "You look— You look nice today."

Your cheeks prickled with warmth. "Oh. Thank you."

"You don't..." Jake continued, as if he was on autopilot. You were beginning to feel really shy when you realized that he was really staring at your chest area. "You don't wear pink often, do you?"

You averted your gaze. "You're right, I don't." How embarrassing! So he notices the things you wear... and he probably 100% knows that you don't wear pink at all. "Does it look weird, or—"

"No!" Jake blurted, before catching himself. He cleared his throat, his ears a warm shade of pink. "Not at all. I really, uh, meant it when I said— When I said you looked nice."

You nodded slowly. Was it normal to feel so warm? Maybe you should check the weather again?

"Really nice," Jake echoed himself. If you weren't busy feeling shy yourself, you would have noticed Jake checking you out for the 50th time already.

You murmured a brief "thanks," before you quickly changed the subject.

"Shall we go?"

It was unusual to feel awkward or shy around Jake, and vice versa. You knew for sure that Jake was a special person, but it never affected you. For Jake, he was determined to be calm and nonchalant when it came to you. And plus, your friendship was always casual anyway.

Which was why all of your shyness dissipated pretty quickly.

You took Jake along to all the spots at the pier's mall area.

"What are you looking for?" Jake asked as he trailed after you. Jake will never understand women. You've been to 4 stores already, and all you've done is touch things and say, 'Oh this is cute.' And then you'd leave.

You shrugged. "Cute things for vacation."

Jake looked around, through the store mirrors as you two traversed the mall area. "Any preferences?"

You shrugged again. "I like dark colors, but I don't mind brighter colors for vacation, yaknow?"

Jake hummed.

The two of you walked around for a little longer until you stopped in front of a store.

"What's this?" Jake asked.

You grinned. "A swimsuit store."

Listen, Jake wouldn't consider himself an easily-excitable guy. He wasn't pervy, either. Especially toward you! He was nonchalant!

But as he entered the girly swimsuit store, he couldn't help but redden at the thought of you in some of these swimsuits. Some of them were provocative and cheeky, making Jake's stomach do flips as his mind crept into places that made it hard for him to make eye contact with you. Other ones were cute and frilly, arguably making Jake's heart pound even faster as he imagined you in them.

"Hey, what do you think about this one?" you asked Jake as you took one of the suits off the rack.

On the inside, Jake was already drooling at the thought. But on the outside he simply nodded, giving a playful smile and a thumbs up. And really, he thought that if he could maintain that attitude for the rest of the time in this swimsuit store, he'd be fine.

But he was wrong.

"Okay, I'm gonna try these on, and I'll have you give me feedback."

What.

What?

And so Jake sat in the couches in front of the changing rooms, simply awaiting his death.

He's not weird, he swears. He doesn't want to be creepy or gross toward you.

But how could he not sweat and basically hyperventilate in these changing rooms when the hottest girl that he's ever seen (you) is about to ask him for his opinion on swimsuits?

Jake was certain that no matter what, you would look hot.

And he was proven correct when you slipped out of the changing rooms.

"Okay, first one," you said, in a voice that was a little too relaxed. You went on your tiptoes, doing a few turns here and there so that Jake could see the full extent of the suit on you. "What do you think?"

And oh.

Good lord.

Jake was really trying his best not to make you uncomfortable.

But there was absolutely no way that he could just sit there and not react. His jaw quite literally dropped the moment he saw you.

The way the suit hugged your body, the way the colors illuminated your skin, the way you were 100% feeling yourself in it— All of it was making Jake 2 seconds away from crashing out.

You must have been a goddess. Or maybe Jake saved a country in his past life.

"It looks— You look— I— You—" he stumbled over his words. There were no words to describe how you looked. You looked downright beautiful. Like, if Jake died now he wouldn't mind. And when you giggled at his reaction, he took a deep breath. Don't be a weirdo! he told himself.

"You look beautiful," he breathed, finally catching himself. His eyes flickered back up to your pretty, pretty face. "You look really beautiful in this one."

"Thank you," you smiled at him. You did another twirl, something that you definitely knew drove him crazy. And if you hadn't noticed him checking you out, Jake was certain that you definitely knew now.

And maybe Jake didn't know enough about women. Because he really believed that that one swimsuit was the only one that you were trying on.

And he was so wrong.

Because there were at least 3 more that you wanted to show him!

Oh, he wasn't going to survive this.

Well, Jake did survive.

After insisting on carrying your shopping bag full of your new swimsuits (Jake didn't dare peek inside because he thought he'd combust), you decided to do some more exploring.

You got some food to munch on, and went to all types of stores. And you took many pictures, too! Pictures together, of you trying on hats and sunglasses. Candid pictures of each other, many of which where you look pretty without even trying and Jake's mind is blown.

More exploring, walking, sitting down, walking, and then sitting for 30 minutes because both of your feet hurt. A lot of laughing, a lot of dumb conversations, and even more laughing.

And before you knew it, it was getting dark out. Suddenly, the sound of the waves crashing filled the air, the cool beach wind blowing against your cheeks. 

"Let's go walk along the shore!"

And so you did.

The orange sky was fading into a dark blue, and yet, the sun still shone so brightly as it submerged into the horizon. The water gently rocked against the shoreline, while the scent of sea salt and seaweed filled your senses.

It was a cool evening, and you tugged on the sleeves of your cardigan to warm your cold hands.

By now, the beach was quiet. Many people had already left, as it was slowly becoming nighttime.

In quiet moments like this, you couldn't help but fully conceptualize Jake as a person.

He was a handsome boy your age. He was kind, sweet, responsible, silly, everything great in a person. And he had a similar music taste to you, too. And here he was, walking alongside you as the sun set.

Your eyes fluttered over to him. His eyes were trained on the sand below his feet, appreciating the way the wet granules covered his skin.

He was a straightforward person. Things went from A to B with him easily. No games, nothing to hide. And yet, you felt like there was so much to discover about him. There was an entire world undiscovered in his head. And you wanted to be a part of it.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked suddenly, interrupting the calm silence.

"You."

.

.

.

You?

You could feel your heart picking up speed, but you kept your composure. Meanwhile, you swore your skin was prickling with an uncharacteristic warmth.

"I-I mean—" Jake seemed to snap out of his daze. "I— I was just thinking about you, and work, and summer, and—"

You blinked, but your lips spread into a tight smile. You didn't know why you felt disappointed.

You sucked in a breath. "The water's really nice tonight."

"Mhm," Jake agreed. He wasn't blind. He could see the way your face fell ever so slightly. He could see when you felt flustered or shy because of him.

But what if he was misinterpreting things? What if his eyes were playing tricks on him?

But then you'd look up at him with those shiny eyes, almost like you were begging him to give you his heart.

Just go for it.

His eyes dropped to your hands, which were still tugging on your sleeves to keep warm.

Jake clicked his tongue. Boldly, he grabbed your hands, clasping them in yours.

"Hey!" you cried.

"Geez, your hands are so cold," he murmured, before locking his fingers with one of your hands. As if nothing happened, Jake just continued walking along the shore, this time with your hand in his.

You stared at your interlocked fingers for a few moments, before you swallowed all of your shyness and continued trailing with him.

The two of you returned to walking in silence, nothing but the sound of the water and your breaths filling the air.

Jake wasn't lying when he said he was thinking of you, because he really. He always was. And just as he was about to fall back into thought, your hand pulled away from his.

With curious eyes, Jake watched as you silently pulled out a tiny plastic case from your purse.

Your earbuds.

You plugged them into your phone, before jamming one of the buds into your own ear. You looked at Jake expectantly, and he took the second earbud graciously.

You bit back a laugh as you turned on your music.

The second you pressed 'play,' a hardy bass and an unforgettable drumline played into your ears.

"Are you serious?" Jake immediately snapped his head at you. "Fleetwood Mac?!"

You laughed, throwing your head back. "I wasn't about to let you ruin the beach vibe and play Bon Jovi."

"I don't only listen to Bon Jovi—!"

And just as you and Jake were enjoying music, the beach, and most importantly, each other, Jake's phone rang. And of course, his ringtone was a Bon Jovi song.

You gave him a look as his lips spread into a goofy smile.

Not daring to tear out the earbud, he picked up his phone and listened with his other ear.

And even though it was nearly nighttime by now, you could still see how Jake's face morphed.

When he hung up, his face dropped.

"They need me to take someone's shift."

Oh.

This was really, very, genuinely, seriously annoying.

Because unfortunately, the truth was that if they needed Jake to work, then they probably needed you to work too.

Because they always needed you and Jake to work.

And so, here your (not-so official) date was ending.

Apparently, it was extremely urgent, and they insisted on paying Jake extra if he came. Not to worry, because he texted your manager to make sure that you'd get extra pay if you came along, too.

The moment that you stepped into the parlor, you could feel all the joy leaving your body. You swore that Layla’s Ice Cream Parlor had evil spirits in there, designed specifically to simply fill your body with dread.

You put on one of the spare work uniforms that the parlor had in the back. It was a little big, and a little itchy, but whatever.

When Jake got the phone call and explained to you the situation, you were fully expecting a packed parlor, with a line that went out the door and your incompetent coworkers couldn't handle it, or something. But now that you were in the parlor, you realized that that was just a load of bullshit.

"Empty," Jake muttered behind you. "There is absolutely no one here."

You hummed in agreement, equally deadpan.

Those lazy bums.

They just didn't want to work the closing shift. They just didn't want to do the cleaning or locking up. They just wanted you to take their shifts so that they could go home and relax.

And so here you two were, just lazing around in the breakroom, just trying to pass the time. You let your phone play some random playlist.

"I'm sorry," Jake said, with his cheek pressed against the breakroom table. "We were hanging out and I decided to take us to work."

"Nah, you're justified," you said lazily. "They're promising us extra pay, so it's fine."

The room went silent again, but you could tell Jake was thinking something. And indeed, he was.

Jake felt horrible! Although you did agree to come to work with him, he still felt back. Did he just fumble your first (unofficial) date? God, he's so stupid! Now you two were stuck in the worst place on earth.

He stared at your bored expression.

He couldn't let you stay bored.

Without a word, he got up from his seat in the breakroom and disappeared out to the front. You could hear some cluttering and buzzing.

"Close your eyes!" he yelled before he came back to where you were in the breakroom. And you complied.

"What are you doing, Jake?" you asked, but you couldn't help but smile. He was definitely up to some antics.

"Just close your eyes," he instructed you, before sitting down with you at the breakroom table again.

Jake clasped his hands together. "I have three cups of ice cream here. You will close your eyes and guess which one is which."

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" Jake laughed. "We can't get bored in here."

You chuckled. "Okay, fine."

Jake watched you intently as he spoon-fed you the first spoonful of ice cream.

The first flavor was strawberry, your personal favorite.

Maybe it was getting late, or maybe Jake was just too obsessed with you, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the way your pretty lips opened up for the ice cream. He was simply so mesmerized by the way you licked your lips, relishing in the way the sweet strawberry ice cream melted on your tastebuds.

"This is so obvious," you nudged him, kicking him from under the table. "At least make it hard for me!"

Jake rolled his eyes playfully. "Just guess!"

You huffed, mumbling something about him being stupid under your breath. "Strawberry. Duh."

"Woo hoo!" Jake cheered for you. "It was strawberry!"

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."

The second flavor was ube. Which you guessed almost immediately.

"Next flavor, please," you giggled. "This game is too easy,"

But Jake wasn't listening to you in the slightest.

Just why did you have to start licking the spoon clean? The way your glossy lips wrapped around the spoon, your tongue wrapping around the smooth plastic, and now he was feeling all types of things, and—

"Seriously, make it harder for me!"

Jake gulped.

The last flavor he had was salted caramel. His own personal favorite.

He'd already taken a few bites out of it.

He glanced at your lips, then down at the salted caramel ice cream.

Even under the corporate light of the break room, you still glowed so prettily. And you must have been doing it on purpose, the way you were keeping the spoon in your mouth, with your lips wrapped around it so prettily.

Jake's eyes flickered back to your lips once more, then to the salted caramel ice cream.

His heart was already pounding in his chest. All the blood was rushing to his head and Jake thought that he'd faint.

Your lips were just so damn pretty.

It seemed like something was possessing Jake's body. While his mind was frozen on your lips, his body was moving on its own.

He reached out for you first, his large hand taking solace on your shoulder.

And in one, fluid motion, Jake leaned in, and closed the gap between his lips and yours.

Your lips were soft and sweet, like clouds. Jake's eyes had unconsciously fallen shut, and the moment that he realized that he was kissing you, they shot open. However, just as he was about to pull away, because oh my god he was kissing you, and he didn't even ask!, Jake felt your hand slither up around his neck.

You pulled him in even closer, deepening the kiss.

Jake felt dizzy. It was the way your tongue dipped into his mouth when he let out a little gasp. Or maybe it was the way your fingers ran through his hair, almost as if you were desperate to keep his lips on yours. Your everything— your hands, your lips, your scent— they were all driving him insane.

Jake didn't want it to end, and if it weren't for his need for air, he wouldn't have pulled away. Ever.

The two of you sat there, breathless, staring into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. Jake's cheeks were red, his pupils blown out with desire. His eyes fell down to your lips.

"Salted caramel," you breathed, your hands sliding down to his shoulders. You squeezed his shoulders. "You taste like salted caramel— kiss me if that's the answer—"

And you didn't need to ask him twice, because Jake was already crashing his lips against yours.

There was something so addictive about your lips. The way you moaned against his lips, the way you clung onto him like you needed him, it was all driving him crazy.

Jake needed more, he needed you.

In his head, it was all just you, you, you.

"I want you so bad," Jake mumbled against your lips. "Please."

He could feel you giggle, but he simply just slides his hand around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved against his in ways that were too perfect to be real. Jake felt like he was in heaven. You were heaven. You were angelic, you were godly, you were—

"Um, excuse me, are you guys still open?"

!!!

You and Jake jumped away from each other.

Shit.

It was still store hours.

"Are we going to get fired?"

Now it was actually closing hours.

You and Jake started cleaning after you were so rudely interrupted, and now it was time to close up.

And it was awkward.

Your heart was practically leaping out of your chest. It felt like forever since you shared your kisses with Jake. And now, you craved his lips once more.

But what if it was just on the whim? What if Jake just did it to do it?

You just wanted him so bad. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to feel him again.

"For what?"

You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes refusing to meet Jake's.

"Kissing coworkers."

"No!" Jake's cheeks flared up. "Of course not!"

"Then..." your brows furrowed. Your face felt hot to the touch. You felt like you were going to get a heart attack. Seriously, you felt like you were burning up, all the while you felt frozen in time and space. You slowly looked up at Jake. "Then can we... you know... keep doing it?"

.

.

.

"I— I mean, if you don't mind— and if it's not something that we could get fired for—" you stammered— "Then can we... you know— can we keep kissing?"

Jake was already on it.

“Eek, Jake, lock the doors first!”

After a few more weeks of hiding in the storage closet to makeout, and honestly straight up shirking your responsibilities to kiss in the breakroom, you and Jake did the unthinkable.

"We resign!"

Your manager looked at you incredulously. "W-What?"

You and Jake smiled. "We quit."

You've never felt more free. With your boyfriend at your side, it seemed like the summer was endless.

BONUS

"Did I ever tell you that I liked you?" you asked Jake, in his car just moments after you quit your job.

"I don't think you did, babe," Jake laughed.

"Oh."

You should probably put that on your to-do list.

You glanced at your boyfriend. How his lips looked so kissable.

Sigh. You'll tell him what you like later. It's time to kiss!

note: please reblog n comment if you enjoyed! xoxo vanya >_<

[bi-writes]

more little thoughts about curvy!sunshine!fem!reader and dark!simon (18+)

thinking about being so indifferent to his violence because it has never been directed at you. you had a bad night at the pub--an asshole tried to grab your ass in the brand new white dress you bought, with a puffy little mini skirt, and you had wanted to wear it out and get dressed up. the man had ruined your night; you just wanted to spend it with simon, drinking and spending time together, and as soon as he had his hand up your dress, and simon saw the tears in your eyes, all he could see was red.

you're sitting on the curb outside, sniffling, tears still a little damp on your face as you lick at the cone of ice cream you're holding. you click your heels against the pavement, and you look to the side when you feel a big, warm presence take a seat next to you. his shirt looks damp and sticky, and your eyes dart down to see how his boots smear blood against the ground. you smile a little through your soft tears, reaching over and sliding your arm around his. the tension in his muscles relaxes, and you lean up and kiss his cheek gently.

"did he squirm?" you ask softly as you trace his ungloved hand, running your fingers lightly over the fresh bruises there. "i know you hate it when they cry."

"didn't 'ave time t'cry," he grumbles. he leans over, kissing your forehead through the mask, holding you close. "cut his throat out before he could even think about it. and then i took his hands, luv--" you take a lick of your ice cream before you smile up at him. "didn't deserve 'em since he's had a feel 'f ya."

he lets you paint his nails. you sit on his big thigh, holding his hand up as you smooth black polish over his nail bed. you clean his cuticles and under his fingernails, giving him a nice little manicure before practicing your nail-painting skills. all he does is sit there and grumble as he watches a football game on the telly, not really paying you any mind. when you finish, you smooth lotion over his cracked knuckles and smooth some oil over his nails until they're nice and soft. when you finish, he makes you watch him stuff those fingers into your pretty pussy. he never takes his eyes off the game, but his lips twitch into the lightest smirk as he feels you writhe and squirm beside him, laid back on the couch as you wet his freshly painted nails with cum.

he never lets you cry, not really, because he fucking hates it. if you cry, he tilts your head up towards him, shoving his mask up before dragging his pink tongue up your face and ridding the pretty planes of your cheeks of any evidence. his solution to your sadness, if that doesn't work, is to put his head between your thighs and eat.

he never says no to you. wherever you want to go, he will take you. whatever you want to buy, he will buy it for you. even if it's something you technically can't have, like the vintage purse you see as you window shop with a not for sale tag on it. or the last pair of sparkly barrettes that the woman in front of you snagged first, found at the bottom of your shopping bag the next day. or the job you applied for that you knew you wouldn't get because you bombed the interview--only to receive confirmation in the middle of the night that you got the job, telling simon monday night that your new boss got mugged only a few hours after your interview!

(the bruises on his face are gnarly--and he seems to always avoid you like the plague.)

you break all his supposed boundaries in front of other people, but what they don't understand is that he has boundaries with everyone except for you. when you visit him on base, everyone tenses when you run into the rec room looking for him, slipping into the chair he sits in and taking your place on his lap. but ghost doesn't flinch as he does if others touch him. no, he just places his hand on your back to steady you. when you're out at the pub with his teammates, they stare wide-eyed as you cup his masked cheeks and kiss him all over his face--his eyes, his nose, his cheeks--but all ghost does is pat your ass soothingly and stroke along your hair gently. he stands out in crowds, so imposing and large and broad, and he ignores the stares when a pretty girl bounces into his orbit, taking his hand and pulling him along because simon, i saw this dress, but i need your help getting the zipper up--

there just isn't anyone like you. ghost feels dead, on the inside. he doesn't feel right. he knows something is so wrong inside of him. he wants to eat your glow. it's what he has loved about you since he met you. the unconditional devotion, the big heart you give him, the wet look in your eyes when he does anything for you, even when it includes the bloody stuff. even if he does the wrong thing, even if he kills the wrong man, and you know he is overreacting, you are never mad, never angry. you just kiss his scars and coo in his ear, "it's okay, you didn't know any better, you were just doing it for me, weren't you, baby?"

you give him the validation that he needs to be violent. you tell him it's okay. you aren't afraid of all the gore, of the terrible things he does, of all the things he rights with wrongs. he is quick to anger, and he finds it easy to be judge, jury, and executioner, and all you do is bat your lashes and open your legs and tell him it's okay, simon--it's okay, come here, i miss you.

you suffocate the things that scream in his ears. when it's too loud, you push him to lay down, climb up over him, put your thighs around his head and quiet the noise. you sit your pretty pussy on his mouth, and you ride his face, smoothing a hand over the balaclava that he is too busy to take off. you used to be afraid of being too heavy, of making it hard to breathe for him, but simon is a big boy, and maybe he wants to die, because you taste so sweet, and he always chubs up so easily with his hands digging into your hips and his tongue deep inside of you.

it aches, everything hurts, the world is too loud, but it isn't like this in your flat. it's just right. it's normal. it's safe. simon can be himself, and so can you, and when he is too brooding and terrifying, he looks at you, because if you're still smiling, he isn't too much of anything. and when you think you're talking too fast, when you are second-guessing the dress you want to wear, you look at him, because if he is there, nothing will ever be wrong, and no one can ever hurt you.

simon isn't a good person. you know that. he's quick to the knife. he likes to bite. he commits war crimes, and then he comes home, and no one asks him to explain himself, and no one tells him to stop what he's doing, and when he does it over and over again, all he gets is validation, medals for a job well done, and maybe you're an instigator, too, because you let him fuck you in every position whenever he comes home, a reward for bringing death to whoever was stupid enough to end up at the wrong end of his rifle.

but it's really, really hard to care. as soon as he steps through the door, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor, all of your doubts disappear. all you can do is stare at him in all his gear, swallow the drool that threatens to spill, smile--welcome home, teddy bear!

he is a bear. but you've never been on the receiving end of what scares people. if someone were to ask you what to do, you don't think you'd know what to tell them. you wonder what it is you would tell them if they begged for your help.

run away? or play dead?

[allurilove]

Yandere clown x you?

I hate clowns omhogmgkgmgkgk i’m like scared of them 😭😭

Yandere Clown x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

You’re at a carnival where you meet the hottest clown you have seen. A short drabble, and fucking in front of the funhouse mirror! Fem reader.

The only clown you have ever seen is the stereotypical white face, dramatic makeup, suspenders, and a huge red ball for a nose. They weren’t really your thing, and you were used to them waddling around with those big shoes, and honking their horns at you.

Since when did they have any sex appeal?

The moment they decided to take off their shirts, you understood why people were fawning over them. You came here to be scared—not wound up and aroused. He had fake blood splattered on their chest, their pants low enough that you see their v-line, and you see a tattoo that presumably continues even lower down his body. His face is painted white, red lipstick painted messily on his lips, and dark eyeliner making their eyes pop out. He carries a toy machete in one hand that looks unreasonably sharp.

He carried a small ice-cream cone in his other hand, and he noticed you eyeing it up and down. It was getting late, and all the little food stands were shutting down, and that treat in his hand was the only food you have seen in a while. You were quite hungry—borderline famished after screaming in haunted houses. He approached you, your mouth automatically just dropped open for him to feed you. The creamy vanilla melts around your tongue, and you can’t help but to lock eyes with him as you ate the ice cream. His lips part, his eyes becoming lidded as you were becoming a bit more risqué. It drips down to your chest, you pull back to see it follow the curve of your breast. He raised his brow, his tongue out as he bends down to lick it.

The moment his tongue was on your body— you became putty in his hands. He pulled you into the wonky mirrors exhibit, it’s a tiny tent with a bunch of mirrors that makes you look weird— and you watch as he bends you over, your reflection of your face is of a swirl. He pulled up your costume, his hand touching your ass before giving it a harsh slap. He pulled down your panties, just enough for him to align the head of his cock to your slit.

“Spread your legs a bit more for me…” He mumbled, his knee already pushing them more apart, and he pressed your face into the mirror. The clown slowly slid himself inside you, a slight hiss escaping his lips as you instinctively tensed around his cock. “Oh god…” He groaned, moving in and out of you.

He watched in marvel as you threw your hips back to meet his thrusts, a smirk on his face, “That’s right, fuck yourself on this dick. Show me how much you want it.”

“You feel amazing…” The clown wrapped your hair around his hand, he made you arch your back, and his cock hits into you so deliciously. Your eyes roll back, your thighs shaking and you try to avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. You look weird—obviously—it made your body squiggly. But he thought you looked good— sexy even.

He has a scary wide smile, his other hand repeatedly smacking your ass as his thrusts become harsher. “You wanna cum? Tell me you wanna cum then.”

[paarksunghoon]

Loved your sunghoon hard thought that I badly need a part 2 😭

thank you so much 🥹 I hope you like this one, anon!! I’m into the idea of writing a few short scenes for this specific hoon so if anyone is interested in reading snippets of their sex life, lemme know

part 2 of this hard thought

***

Sunghoon is typically the shy guy who keeps to himself when he’s not with his friends. He has a straight path to success upon graduating and doesn’t want to compromise that. He’s the kind of guy to yearn from afar but fuck his fist when his roommates aren’t home while he wonders when the love of his life will make their presence known.

Typically, Sunghoon is not the kind of guy to engage in a friends with benefits situation. Yet he finds himself in your apartment a mere three hours after leaving you the first time. Why he hooked up with you at that party is unbeknownst to him, but he doesn’t care.

“Pussy’s so good I needed more,” he says against your mound with your back perched on the couch. Sunghoon has your legs spread wide with his palms and your toes curl with every pass of his wet tongue dragging across your folds.

“God,” you moan straight from the back of your throat. You grab the back of his head with your hands and feel his soft hair. Sunghoon groans right into you and his voice makes your pussy quiver even more.

He takes his time, unlike the night you first met him at the house party a few weeks ago. Sunghoon looks so beautiful with his eyes closed, lashes kissing his skin as he works your folds like he’s licking an ice cream cone. He switches between licking your insides to kissing your inner thighs to prolong your orgasm. You don’t know if you’ve ever had a guy who cared about your pleasure that much to give it to you just to take it away, only to make you see stars.

Sunghoon pries your pussy open with his fingers and holds his body over your lap. He gathers spit until it drops straight onto your clit. He basks in the way you clench around nothing, watching the way more of your arousal oozes out of your body. Sunghoon is so turned on that his cock is hot and stiff in his basketball shorts to the point of being uncomfortable.

With one hand, he lets go of your pussy to reach down and put his hand over his cock to palm himself while his tongue works its magic against you. Sunghoon squeezes himself and shudders. You’ve maneuvered so your feet are planted on his back and he feels the urge to continue pushing you to your climax when he feels your toes curling up against him and as you start to move his face against your mound.

He’s been at it for ages. Your undergarments are long gone and he reckons he’s been on his knees for the past twenty minutes or so but he pays no attention to his legs burning or his back aching. He would stay like this forever if that meant making you come.

Sunghoon drags the surface of his tongue over you expertly while pulling you close to his face by your ass. You yelp at the sudden movement and grip onto the bedsheets for support. Meanwhile, he’s thrusting his cock against the couch until he’s humping it like he’s the one who’s supposed to get off.

“Perfect ass and perfect pussy,” Sunghoon moans against you. “Cum on my face, pretty girl. I know you want to.”

“You’re so fucking good at this,” you whine, cupping your breast and giving them a squeeze. “So hot when you talk like that.”

“Yeah? Want me to talk you through it?”

“Please, fuck.”

“Okay, baby. Focus on my tongue. Don’t you want to cum on it?”

“I want it so fucking bad.”

“Mhm, atta girl.” Sunghoon lifts himself just enough for you to hear him. “Let me taste you. Cum right now.”

You do as he says. The feeling of euphoria washes over you and your release coats Sunghoon’s tongue. He slurps it up like your taste is engrained in his mind while humping the couch until he releases an orgasm in his boxers and shorts. But he doesn’t care that he’s soiled himself like this. Sunghoon pushes his softening cock against his own cum and moans as he tastes yours.

“Love your pussy,” Sunghoon mumbles as he cleans up your body with his tongue. “Could eat you out all day.”

“Yeah? You would?”

He looks up at you from your mound and licks another fat stripe up your slit.

“Don’t underestimate me.”

***

comments and reblogs would be appreciated! x

[steddiealltheway]

(So, idk if anyone has ordered or seen the Scoops Ahoy costumes from Amazon or whatever, but the shorts for Robin are tight and short. But the shorts for Steve are like the ones seen in the show. Which leads me to this thought…)

Steve’s first day at Scoops Ahoy is… alright?

Actually, it’s pretty miserable.

Scooping ice cream is way harder than it looks. And for some reason he can’t get that perfect rounded shape. It just comes out in pieces that he has to mash into cups and balance on top of cones.

Plus, he’s pretty sure his coworker hates him.

Her name is Robin, and she scowls and dramatically points at her name tag when he asks for it. To make matters worse, they apparently went to high school together, but he doesn’t have the vaguest memory of her. (To be fair, they did not run in the same social circles with her being in band and even theatre and with Steve being “King Steve.”)

But for some reason, she loves to poke fun at him especially when he fails to get any girl’s number. It’s like the Harrington charm radiates through his hair which is blocked by the stupid hat.

But what he really notices only an hour into their eight hour shift is the way she’s tugging at her shorts. She digs her fingers under the elastic band around her thighs as if trying to stretch them out, and she’s constantly trying to pull them down as they begin to ride up.

And really, Steve not trying to perv or anything, but she’s make quite a bit of a fuss with the whole thing, cursing under her breath and obviously really uncomfortable.

So, when the store is fairly empty, Steve turns to her and asks, “Do you want to change shorts with me?”

For the first time, Robin laughs. Loudly. She even snorts at the idea. But her laughter quickly dies down when she realizes Steve isn’t laughing. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah. You look uncomfortable. And hey, I’ve worn way worse to basketball practice, plus I had to wear speedos when I was on the swim team.”

Robin’s nose scrunches up. “Gross.”

Steve puts his hands on his hips and huffs, “Do you want to switch or not?”

She takes a few seconds to stare at Steve, clearly suspicious of an ulterior motive. But then, she curses and starts tugging at elastic band again. “Okay! Fine. But we’re not getting change in the same room.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he heads to the back room. “I wasn’t suggesting that.”

In the end, Steve is left to change in the damn freezer storage area while Robin gets the whole break room. But he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he sucks it up and doesn’t complain. (Although he really really wants to.)

He waits for her to knock on the door to signal she’s ready, looking down at the shorts. They’re not horrible, but he can understand why Robin was uncomfortable - as they’re already stretching over his ass and thighs while starting to ride up beyond mid thigh.

Even after she knocks, Steve asks, “Ready for me to come out?”

He thinks he hears her laugh about that for some reason before she answers, “Yeah!”

He steps into the room and glances down at her new shorts momentarily before nodding. “Better?”

Robin smiles slightly and nods before heading back out to the main area.

Steve follows behind her. “Hey, they gave me two pairs of these. I can give you the extra pair to wear and keep during our next shift together.”

Robin turns to him and narrows her eyes. “What are you asking for in return?”

“Nothing,” Steve says, eyebrows furrowed. He hopes she understands that he really means it and won’t hold this over her head like an asshole.

She just stares at him for a few seconds before almost wondrously saying, “Huh.”

Luckily, she seems to relax for the first time since their shift started.

After this, the teasing from before has less of an edge to it, but it becomes relentless. Steve almost thinks that maybe this is the start of a wonderful friendship. But Robin would never want that from him.

He only changes his mind about this later when Eddie Munson walks into the store while Steve is cleaning the tables. He accidentally knocks over a napkin and bends over to pick it up, feeling his shorts ride up.

When he stands up, he’s met with a pink faced Munson who stares at him - or rather his ass - with wide eyes.

“See something you want to sample?” Steve asks honestly a bit against his will because it’s part of the Scoops Ahoy greeting. (Only for some reason, he’s unable to get any other part of the greeting out.)

Eddie’s pink face turns red as his eyes snap up to Steve’s. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he quickly breathes out, “I need to leave.”

When the boy practically runs out the store, Steve naturally glances over his shoulder at Robin, trying to gauge if she just saw what he did.

She’s already laughing behind the counter saying between bouts of laughter, “See something you want to sample?”

Steve huffs and feels a blush rise to his cheeks. “Shut up,” he mumbles out, throwing the napkin away before returning behind the counter. “I’m never asking that again.”

But as Robin continues to laugh, Steve can’t help but join in a little, wondering if maybe she would like to be friends and if Eddie will ever come back.

So, maybe his first day wasn’t pretty miserable or just alright. Maybe it was perfect.

[saquesha13]

!!Tattoo artist Eddie!!

Steve never imagined himself as a tattoo kind of guy. But back in ‘85 after the mall fire, he ended up getting a small matching tattoo with Robin. Just a simple little ice cream cone on his inner wrist - Robin’s idea really. Something about almost burning to death together in a fire really seemed fitting for matching permeant ink on their skin.

It opened Steve’s eyes, changed his perspective, widened his horizons if you will on the whole idea of a tattoo.

Even just a dumb ass ice cream cone that bystanders see on his wrist, that they probably assume means jack shit but in reality it means the whole world to Steve - is pretty fucking cool.

So, Steve hears about this really talented tattoo artist in Chicago and knew he wanted this guy to do his next piece.

The shop is smaller than Steve expected, smack dead in the center of the city and Steve arrived 30 minuets early to his appointment because he was pretty damn nervous.

This tattoo is not as… innocent as his matching ice cream cone with Robbie’s. It isn’t as meaningful either…

Well, okay, it still has meaning, but only to Steve. He isn’t the kind of guy to get a tattoo just because. Tattoos are expensive first of all, and he doesn’t want his entire body covered in ink. That just isn’t his style. But a peek of a tattoo here and there? Yeah, that’s not bad, that what El would call bitchin’.

“Steve? Eddie is ready for you.” The petite blonde at the front desk smiled, her warm bubbly aurora feeling so oddly displaced in a shop like this, so far from what Steve was expecting.

“Ah, okay, thanks uh…”

“Chrissy.” She brushed her bangs out of her eyes before pushing back the black beaded curtain leading to the back room.

“Thank you, Chrissy.” Steve hoped this girl couldn’t see just now nervous he was as he ducked between the beads. He was just starting to let his eyes roam around the gothic decor of the room when the hottest fucking man Steve has ever seen walks in, taking thick chunky rings off his pale fingers and putting them in the pocket of his skin tight black jeans.

Once his rings are safely put away, he tugs the thick dark curls off of his shoulders and tied it up on his head in a knot, some strands poke out framing his face.

“Steve, right?” The sexy man speaks, apparently. His deep voice sounded like honey and pure bliss to Steve’s hears. A smile stretches across his lips making the dimples - of fucking course he has dimples - poke out on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Steve apparently broke at the sight of this man, because seriously who the hell does this guy think he is coming in looking like THAT?! His voice cracked when he tried to speak making his cheeks turn rosey shade of pink and he had to clear his throat before properly speaking.

“U-Uh, yeah, me is Steve. I-I mean, I am Steve.” He would smack his own forehead with his hand if Eddie wasn’t busy holding it, giving him a nice firm handshake. Steve’s face was burning.

Scratch smacking face, Steve wishes he could just bash his head in on the brick decorative wall in the corner. Put him out of his misery. He’s doing a mighty fine job at humiliating himself already.

“This your first time?” Eddie smirked, his voice somehow dropping lower than it was before.

“Huh?” Steve blinked, clearly confused, no lights on in his brain as his eyes darted between Eddie’s huge brown eyes to the tattoo peaking out under the v-neck of his black long sleeve shirt. God he wished he could see what that tattoo actually was, maybe lick it.

“Your first time getting a tattoo.” Eddie clarified, the smirk never leaving his face as he finally let go of Steve’s sweaty palm.

“Oh, no actually. I’ve had - “ Steve cleared his throat again, trying his dammed hardest to chill the fuck down. “Had got another tattoo before this one.”

“So, you’re not a virgin then?” Eddie winked as he slid on his rubber gloves, covering up the black inked tattoos on his broad hands that Steve suddenly wished he looked at before they were gone from his sight. Then he realized what Eddie just said and his head snapped up to the playful look on Eddie’s face.

Shit. Is Eddie actually flirting with him? Is this how Eddie speaks to all of his clients? Or has Steve finally lost his marbles?

“Nope, defiantly not a virgin.” Steve watched Eddie’s movements closely as he finalized setting up his supplies, grabbing the stencil of Steve’s tattoo. “Not a virgin with tattoos either.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, something gleaming in his dark eyes that makes Steve’s levi’s suddenly feel a little too tight. The grin on Eddie’s face is down right sinful. “Well, Steve, as long as the sketch looks good to you and you are still good with the placement, we can get started.”

Steve leans over and looks down at Eddie’s sketch of what he had requested sitting in Eddie’s gloved hands. Just looking at the two words, at the way Eddie wrote the font knowing it was his work that will be forever on Steve’s body has Steve’s blush refusing to go away.

“Uh, cool. Okay. Yeah it looks good, really good.” Steve had to lean over Eddie’s shoulder to fully see the entire page, not that it was really necessary.

“Lay down on the bed, on your stomach.” Eddie gestured with his chin to the left, where the tattooing bed was. “Make sure you get those jeans off first,” Eddie huffed out a laugh as Steve was about to settle down on his belly, his face turning beat red in embarrassment feeling idiotic.

“You do want your ass tattooed still, right?” Eddie asked, his voice smug at the flustered look on Steve’s face.

“Well, yeah. Obviously. That is why I am here.” Steve scoffed, wondering why the hell he is blushing like a teenage girl in this sexy ass man’s presence. Usually Steve is the one making people blush, not the other way around.

“I don’t usually undress my clients… but I would for you.” Eddie nibbled on his bottom lip, making damn sure that Steve’s face stayed tomato red as Steve swore he saw Eddie look at him from head to toe.

He had to take a deep breath to get his damn body to cooperate downstairs before unbuttoning his jeans and tugging down his fly so he can scoot the denim and his grey briefs down over the curve of his ass leaving them just barley covering his junk in the front and staying on his legs.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything as he climbed on the bed on his stomach, not trusting his voice whatsoever as his eyes said more than enough, keeping them planted on Eddie’s.

“This good?” He rested his chin on his hands, his entire bare ass out in the open, wondering why the hell Jonathan Byers failed to mention how damn hot his favorite tattoo artist was.

Eddie for once seemed a little lost for words. He doesn’t stay in the room when his clients undress, it’s unprofessional. He never ever offers to take their clothes off for them either. But for some reason his feet stopped working the second Steve’s fingers went to unbutton his jeans.

“Absolutely perfect, pretty boy.” Eddie damn near purred, wondering how he lucked out, to be the one to tattoo this angels ass. Getting fucking payed to touch his ass. To tattoo the words Bite Me on his juicy round cheeks.

It isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo tattooing someone’s butt cheeks. He’s done almost every body part at this point in his tattooing career. But fuck, no client has ever affected him, not like this.

“Skins sensitive here.” Eddie licked his lips as he stepped close to the bed, wishing he wasn’t wearing gloves so he could really feel Steve as he ran his fingers over the exposed skin before putting the shaving cream along his ass, shaving the light colored peach fuzz right off his literal peach. “Need numbing cream, sweetheart?”

“No. Don’t need numbing cream. Wanna feel it.” Steve hummed, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. Steve’s red face has faded to pink, finally calming down a bit trying to sit still so he isn’t wiggling his ass in Eddie’s face - not that he thinks Eddie would really mind too much if he did.

Eddie muttered something under his breath, his hands stilling over his ass from where he was wiping the shaving cream away with surprisingly soft hands.

It’s funny, Steve came in set on only getting one tattoo. But as he laid here on the bed, the tattoo gun buzzing as the needles push against his ass, all he can think about is coming back, getting more ink on his body, all over his tan skin as an excuse to come back and see Eddie.

To come back and get Eddie’s hands on him.

But when his appointment was over - much sooner than Steve would have liked - turns out he didn’t need to come back here.

Because Eddie invited him to go home with him.

[asterias-record-shop]

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— fuck his brains out

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

In which you pretend not to know your boyfriend is Kick-Ass. maybe OOC characters, I got a little carried away, and maybe mixed timeline, I haven't watched the movies in a while... Also, Dave x Mean! reader because who doesn't love that?

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

“I think Kick-Ass is hotter,” you look over at Dave, licking your ice cream almost teasingly. “If I had the chance, I’d fuck his brains out.”

Dave blushed madly, rubbing his cheeks before you stand and tug on his arm. “Dave, I think we should start heading out. You’re walking me home, right?”

Dave nodded quickly, as you thought that it was best because you had been taking care of him since his injury or said that because it had been a while. “Y-Yeah! I will, I’m coming.”

He waved at his friends as you tugged him out, throwing away the napkin that previously held your ice cream cone away. “I mean it,” you said abruptly, smiling over as you held his hand. “I would fuck him so hard he wouldn’t be able to talk.”

“W-Would you?” Dave finally speaks, looking over at you as you smiled.

“Hell yeah I would.”

Later that night, Mindy stared at him as he fixed his mask. “This isn’t a good idea, Dave."

In all seriousness, he really thought she would fight him to make him stay. What he was doing was stupid, but he was about to get laid. By you. The most beautiful girl in the world.

"This," he grinned back at her. "Is an amazing idea. I'm going to get laid so fucking hard."

"What if she wants to take off your mask?"

"She won't."

"What if she recognizes your voice?"

He paused, then smiled. "When I'm nervous, my voice gets higher. She won't recognize it. I'll see you later!"

He ran out, quickly going to your home. How was he going to get in? Would he sneak in through the window you always had unlocked that was right next to your dresser? Or would he throw rocks at your window, begging for you to let him up so you could fuck him?

He started to panic, how the hell would he sneak into your house?

In nervousness, he paced in the back alleyway behind your house before his phone buzzed, your name blaring on the screen.

Y/N 8:57PM come in through the window ;)

It made him pause before he looked at your window, gasping as you stared at him with your body lit in light of your bedside lamp. He could see your bright smile as you gave him a small wave, a gulp echoing through the alley as you opened up the window a bit and leave it open with a hairbrush.

He inhaled deeply as he slowly jumped over the fence, climbing up the tree that led up to the window, easily slipping through after pushing it up before carefully pushing it down. He gasped as he looked back, staring at his reflection through the mirror from where you sat in front of your vanity.

"It's slightly... perverted to sneak into a woman's house, right?" Your fingers rubbed moisturizer into your face like he had seen you do in the nights he slept over. "Dave knows that, but I'm assuming Kick-Ass doesn't."

Dave cleared his throat, pushing his hands to cover the front of his suit, specifically over his crotch. He loved it when you said his name. "I-I uhm... you know Dave as well? I know Dave too."

He watched as you giggled. "I do know Dave, very well. But something's telling me you know him a little better than I do."

He swallowed, humming before making his voice deeper. “I-I’ve known Dave a long time… Y/N.”

“Have you now?” You stood, slowly walking over and swaying your beautiful hips before you stood in front of him. “How long?”

“M-My whole life.”

You giggled as he slowly stepped forward to meet you in the middle, your fingers trailing down his chest as you pressed firm kisses wherever your fingers went and you slowly got down on your knees, your skimpy lingerie-like pajamas. "Did Dave ever tell you what I want to do to you, Kick-Ass? Hm?"

He whimpers, his false persona of confidence never even giving the chance to rise as you kissed over the bulge that he tried to hide. "H-He did... oh fuck, he did."

"Oh, well he didn't have to tell you, right? You knew it because you are Dave, right?" You licked over the material of his suit.

His head lulled back as he nodded, groaning. "R-Right, fucking hell, please! Please, please don't stop."

You scoffed as you stood, pressing your finger to his chest. "I knew it! I knew it, you bastard, why would you keep that from me?! Did you like me gushing over your alter ego?!"

He gasped as you shoved him, a groan falling from your lips. "What? No! No, of course not!"

"For fuck's sake, Dave! What, you're such a virgin that you loved the thought of some girl talking about her fantasies with your alter ego?! Fuck you!" You groaned as you sat on your bed, covering your face to hold back your smile. This had to work.

"No! No, of course not, of course not! I'm sorry, I am so sorry," he whined as he kneeled in front of you, holding your knees. "Please, you have to understand..." He takes off his mask, whimpering as he stared up at you. "I did it to keep you safe. I didn't... I don't want you to be a target."

You inhale deeply as you pulled your hands away from your face, glaring down at him. "You promise?"

"I promise."

He inhaled deeply as you squeezed his face, raising a brow. "Well then, what are you going to do to make it up to me?"

He paused, clearing his throat as you ran your fingers through his hair. "Wh-Whatever you want me to," he whispers, swallowing loudly. "Whatever you want me to do."

Oh, you knew it would work.

Maybe that's how Dave got here, laying on his back as he sobbed underneath your touch, the vibrating cock ring settled right at his base and your tongue licking at his tip, lapping and sucking teasingly. You giggled as he squirmed underneath your touch, your hand pumping him slowly. "I don't know if you've done enough to cum, Dave. I don't think... you've made it up to me."

He whined, shaking his head as he covered his mouth. "No, no please! I'll do anything you want, just please! I need- I need to cum inside of you."

You hummed teasingly, pursing your lips. "Inside of me? You want to ask that much of me? Do you think that you've done enough to get the pleasure of cumming inside of me?"

"Yes!" He whined loudly, groaning. "Yes! Yes, I'll make you feel good, I promise!"

You hummed, pumping him even harder. "No... I don't think you can. A virgin like you? Please."

"I promise! I promise I will, I promise." He whimpered, his hips bucking into the air.

He probably could, to be honest. His cock was bigger than you could ever imagine, his girth barely able to fit into your mouth without making your jaw ache and could barely go down your throat without choking. He had the prettiest dick you'd ever seen, definitely the biggest and girthiest too, just because the last few guys you saw were fucking assholes.

"Maybe I will let you cum inside of me," you mused, humming as you sucked on his tip to make loud popping sound echo across the room. "Maybe, if I'm feeling... nice."

He whined, nodding desperately. "Fuck, please! Please, I'll do anything!"

"Where do you want to cum inside of me, baby? Dave knows I'm on birth control, but does Kick-Ass?" You giggle, rubbing his thighs as you gagged on his cock.

"C-Can I cum i-in your... in your-?"

"You can't even say it, can you?" You giggled as you switched the ring into the highest power, humming. "You want to cum... inside of me, right? That narrows things down a little bit... you want to cum inside my mouth? Or... my ass, that's going to take a minute though. Maybe my pussy? Hm? It's already stretched out for you, Dave. Inside my pussy, inside of my cunt?"

"Y-Your cunt! I want... I want to cum inside of your cunt."

You giggled. "Just don't cum as soon as I take this ring off, alright?"

He let out a loud whimper, nodding as you slowly slip it off, putting it into your mouth to suck loudly, groaning as his taste filled your mouth. He groaned as you take it from your mouth, straddling his hips and holding his cock up. You could feel your eyes roll back, humming as he whimpered. "I-I'm close, I'm so close!"

You giggled as you sunk down onto him, yelling out as he screamed out, groaning with a strong buck of his hips to bottom out inside of you and his cum filling up your stomach. You gasped loudly, whimpering as you held onto his chest, your nails digging into his skin. "H-How are you still cumming?!"

"I-I can't stop," he groaned flipping you over to hold your thighs as he pressed his face into your neck, thrusting his hips. Your eyes rolled back, groaning loudly as the loud slaps of skin against skin filled your room. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Better than I could ever imagine, fuck!"

You whined as your nails dug into his back, Dave pulling away for just a second with a grin. "Who's fucking who's brains out now?"

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© asterias-record-shop

[bwabys-scenarios]

Tethered(NSFW)

Yandere!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: dubcon, Kurapika is delusional and obsessive, oral(f!receiving), breeding kink

A/N: My Yandere!Kurapika is super soft… sorry he’s not mean or crazy, he’s only a bit paranoid and obsessive

Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @pannacottababy

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Kurapika never enjoys chaining you up. Not only is it humiliating for you, but he hates seeing the fear and panic on your face when you can’t move.

But it was necessary today, unfortunately.

The day had started out normally. He held you in his lap, giving the top of your head soft kisses as he enjoyed his tea and a good book. You were very compliant, even leaning against his chest, into his touch.

He should have known something was up with you then. You were buttering him up, leading him into a false sense of security. Kurapika truly believed that things were getting better, that you had finally accepted your place by his side, and that maybe… you had even started to love him too.

But he had been wrong, and the truth was enough to break his heart.

Because of your good behavior as of late, he had decided to take you out on a date. You had been laying down hints that you were interested in the aquarium that had opened up in town, and it had been months since you’d last been outside of his property.

The small cabin and garden were nice, but you were getting beyond bored of it. Kurapika believed some time outside may lift your spirits, and even help the two of you bond.

He should have known better.

You were acting like the perfect little girlfriend, holding his hand, letting him explain to you the biology of some of the undersea creatures you passed by in the aquarium, and even sweetly sharing an ice cream cone with him.

It was near the end of the tour when you started looking around, squeezing your legs together.

“Are you alright?” Kurapika asked, his brows knit together in concern.

“A-ah, I’m okay… I just need to use the bathroom…”

Usually, that would have made him suspicious, but you had drank two bottles of water during the walk. He could understand that your bladder just be full, and he was calmed when he noticed you seemed embarrassed to ask him for help. You really did need to use the bathroom.

“Alright, I think I saw one near the exit.”

Kurapika guided you to the bathroom, squeezing your hand and leaning into whisper into your ear. “My angel, you have 5 minutes to get your business done with. Am I clear?”

You nodded quickly, shifting your weight. “Y-yes! Can I go now?”

He sighed, letting your hand go. Even when he was sure there was no way for you to escape, letting you go in public made him irritable. “Hurry.”

He watched you go, smiling slightly when you squeaked and avoided eye contact with any male that came within 5 feet of you. Kurapika wasn’t the type to kill anyone that came near you, but someone touching or talking to you was a different story. You were keeping others from getting hurt, something he found sweet.

If only you knew the amount of people he had killed on your behalf. Maybe you would be so complacent when he curled up with you at night.

Kurapika leaned against the wall, glancing down at the time on his phone. It had been 5 minutes already, and you had yet to walk out. Since it wasn’t busy and people often mistook him for a woman, Kurapika decided to walk in and get you himself, or at least check on you. He didn’t want to embarrass you if you had a stomach ache, so he used In to cloak his presence.

He just didn’t expect to see your plump ass wiggling and squirming as you tried to escape out of a small window.

Kurapika was less angry, more heartbroken and disappointed. He had assumed the two of you were finally getting to the point where he could trust you a little… just for you to try and escape.

“Seems you can’t be trusted, (Name).”

He watched as you flinched from the sound of his voice. It didn’t feel good to know you were afraid of him. “I hope you know this means you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. You’ll be staying home until further notice.”

Kurapika was well aware that you knew running from him when you were in his line of sight would result in him swiftly catching you, so he waited for a moment for you to pull yourself out of the window and walk back. If you were good and stayed quiet while he drove you home, he might even forget this silly little attempt. It was unsuccessful after all… no harm, right?

But you stayed there, and he could see your thighs starting to tremble slightly from having you stand on your tippy toes to reach the window. Your entire upper half was outside…

“I’m… stuck…”

Kurapika blinked, glancing from you to the bathroom door. “You’re… stuck? Really? You didn’t think this through at all.”

“J-just help me!” you yelped, though you immediately backtracked when you felt his aura frow cold. “P-please, Pika.”

The use of the nickname you had given him before he had kidnapped you, when the two of you had been dating and in love made him calm down immediately. You didn’t use it often now, only when you really needed something or when you were in trouble. Even though he knew it was just to soften him up, he gave in every time.

He just wanted you to call him that again, for you to love him again.

“Alright…”

Kurapika walked forward, eyeing your wiggling hips with his scarlet orbs. He may not be furious, but he still felt anger and betrayal at your attempts to get away from him.

Did he not give you a carefree life, where you wanted for nothing and was pampered like a princess? Hell, the blonde had recreated your room from home to make sure you were as comfortable as possible when he kidnapped took you away.

His hand grabbed hold of your hips, squeezing the fatty flesh. It reminded him of the times before he took you, when he would hold onto you right as he fucked into your soaking cunt, whispering words of love and worship. You were his everything, and he did all of these things to keep you safe…

Couldn’t you see that? Couldn’t you understand that behind all of his actions that may seem cruel and unfair, that he did it all for you? Kurapika had thrown away his moral code, sacrificed sleep and time all for you.

Maybe he just had to remind you how good it felt to be with him.

He started off with a soft caress to the small of your back, slowly moving his hand to cup your ass. You let out a yelp, your wiggling increasing. “K-Kurapika, what are you-“

He squeezed harder, his thumb rubbing against your clothes cunt. “Quiet. You just need a little reminder, my angel. You won’t want to leave again after this…”

Kurapika bent down, lifting your skirt to get to your panties. He couldn’t help the pride that swelled up in his chest when he saw the wet spot already forming. Just his touch could get you like this…

“Oh, my little angel… is this why you’ve been so restless? Been missing me?” he muttered to himself, giving a soft kiss to your clothed pussy. “I’m sorry… I wanted to give you space to get used to your new home, I should have been taking care of you better.”

You could only whine, feeling his hands easily pry open your thighs. Your panties were ripped off, tossed to the side so he could get to your pretty, dripping cunt.

“How I’ve missed you…” he said softly, giving your pussy a soft kiss. “I love you so much… let me take care of you, like I used to…”

You were barely able to hold back your moans as his tongue lapped at your folds softly, finding your clit within seconds. He couldn’t help smirking when you pressed your pussy against tongue. You wanted more, you were just too shy to say it… right?

He sucked softly on your clit, his fingers teasing your hole as you panted. “P-please…” you whispered, your legs shaking. Your face was hot and you were starting to sweat, the outside air muggy from the small rainstorm earlier that day. “Need it…”

And he complied, fucking you on his fingers. His other hand kept a hold of your hip as his tongue lapped softly at your clit. “Whatever you want, my angel. Anything you ask for is yours…”

Kurapika kept at it until you cried out his name, moving your hips to meet his fingers. “G-gonna-!”

You came, making a mess on his hand. He didn’t mind at all though, feeling a sense of satisfaction as he licked away the mess. “There we go… you must feel better now, right?”

You nodded, but he couldn’t see that so you answered softly, still recovering. “Y-yeah…”

It did feel good… but you still didn’t want to be trapped with him. You had loved Kurapika once, and maybe you still cared for him to some extent, but being kidnapped and forced into isolation where he was your only company would drive anyone insane…

“I wanna… go home…” you murmured, feeling him pull your panties back over your ass. He seemed to enjoy taking care of you like this. Dressing you, brushing your teeth, doing your hair… even though you could do it all yourself, he insisted on helping you.

Maybe he wanted to feel useful so you would willing stay with him. A willing lover was much better than a captive one.

As he tugged your skirt into place, he grabbed your hips and easily pulled you out of the window. You sighed in relief, though that didn’t last long.

You felt the familiar cold sensations of chains wrapping around you, keeping your arms pressed against your side and unusable. You had been hoping he wouldn’t punish you since he had been so sweet.. but it seemed your actions were still enough to at least slightly anger him.

“Since you can’t be trusted, you’re going to stay like this the whole way home. And when we’re back…”

He formed a chain on her wrist that linked to his. “You’ll be tethered to me at all times, until you can learn to behave.”

He seemed weirdly excited about this, his face nuzzling softly against your neck as he walked you to his car.

You were starting to realize this was less of a punishment for you, and more of a treat for him.

Well… at least he seemed happy and wasn’t staring at you coldly before leaving you alone for months. That was the usual punishment. Isolation from even him. When Kurapika was the only human you received human contact and interaction from, it was torture being ignored.

So you counted yourself lucky, only pouting a little at his clingy nature.

‘Surely she understands my love and devotion to her her now.’

He deluded himself into thinking everything was okay… you were by his side, letting him hold you close as the two of you were linked together by the short chain.

In reality, you didn’t want to move away from him and get him in a sour mood after your behavior earlier. So you stayed still and quiet, your face slightly warm as he muttered those same words of adoration that you’d hear every time the two of you made love.

Your heart was beating fast, even though you didn’t want to feel these fuzzy feelings. You still loved him, forever tethered to him whether you liked it or not.

Escape was looking less and less likely… so instead of thinking about it too much, you tried your best to relax, feeling him harden against you.

Would it be so bad to have sex with the man that stole you away from the life you had before? He had been your boyfriend, and god you were too horny to even think as he tugged your panties to the side.

“You want this?” Kurapika asked, his cock rubbing against your needy pussy.

“Y-yes, please Pika!”

And he couldn’t deny you… not when you were begging for him.

His thrusts were messy, full of need and desperation for you. Kurapika had missed this, missed being inside of your warm, tight cunt. It had been months since he had last buried himself inside of you, days before your relationship was changed forever due to him stealing you away.

It felt so good, the both of you feeling all the tension fading away as you were able to focus on nothing but the feeling of your bodies joining together.

“P-Pika!”

His heart pounded in his chest when he heard you call for him. There was no underlying motive, you just wanted him, wanted him to hold you and make you feel good like he did before. You still loved him so much, it hurt. It hurt your very sole to be so reliant on someone that stole your freedom.

“I’m here… shh…”

He quieted you with a kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as you came. Kurapika couldn’t help the way his cock twitched inside of you as he thought about the possibility this creampie could get your pregnant.

One of the things he wanted in life was a family, to continue the Kurta clan bloodline. And you, panting softly after coming down from your high, were the only one he wanted to make a mother.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…”

Kurapika carried you to the bathroom, undressing you. Before, he may have been flustered at the sight of your naked body, but he had been dating you for nearly three years… if you counted the 6 months you’d been held captive with him.

Your body still made him blush, but it was familiar, warm. Safe.

After a quick bath, the two of you curled up in bed together. You didn’t have much of a choice considering the chain keeping the two of you tethered, but even if you weren’t tied to each other, you still would have wanted his comfort after sex.

“Did so well…” he whispered, kissing your forehead. No matter what you did, Kurapika was always so gentle with you.

You could kick, yell, bite, insult him, and scream at the top of your lungs, but he would only restrain you and hold you close. His touch was never rough or meant to hurt you…

“Tired, Pika…”

He hummed softly, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Sleep. I’ll be here, like always.”

It was meant to reassure you, but the thought of never being able to escape him still made you uneasy. Even if you did love him, even if he made you feel good and fuzzy inside… your freedom would still always be out of your reach.

Regardless, it had been a long day, and sleep took you without any consideration for your feelings.

As you dozed off, Kurapika just watched you. He was hopeful that soon enough, he would no longer have to keep you chained for him.

All he wanted was for you to stay with him, to be happy by his side…

And as you slept, curled up in his arms, he smiled softly.

You would always be with him, safe in his arms and away from the nasty outside world full of hate and misery.

He would keep you happy, make sure you were never hurt in any way. His mind couldn’t rest when you weren’t by his side… he needed you just as much as he needed to keep you safe.

Kurapika’s eyes grew heavy, and he knew that soon, he would join you in sleep. He could rest easy, knowing that his darling was right here with him, content and asleep.

“I love you, my precious angel. I hope you know that…”

[thriftedtchotchkes]

it's been so long

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: you and mike are well aware of your feelings for each other, but it's a line you won't cross. maybe it's time you finally did.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, close friend!reader, sharing a bed, first time together/getting together, fluff, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, nipple sucking, cockwarming, size kink, mentions of painful sex

word count: <1k

"Mike. Come on, you know we can't."

"Well, you won't let me sleep on the couch, and I'm not letting you sleep on the couch, so what else is there?"

"I take the bus home and sleep in my own bed."

"It's 3 o'clock in the morning. That's not happening."

"Then, I'll sleep on the floor in Abby's room."

"That's not happening either."

You're running out of options, and you've already given Mike every excuse in the book why you can't share a bed tonight. You both know exactly what'll happen the moment you climb in, and that can't happen.

But you're exhausted after a hyperactive day of watching Abby and a visit from their mentally taxing aunt, and his flannel sheets look especially inviting. Mike does, too, with his thick biceps and thighs, bare and ready to envelop you when you inevitably give in.

"Fine. But we're sleeping, got it? Just sleeping."

"Of course," he says matter of factly. "C'mere."

You're on your back with his lips crashing onto yours seconds after you make your decision. You knew this would happen, and he apparently hoped it would, because when he nudges you onto your side, he's already hard against your back. All those months of dancing around each other were always going to lead to this.

To his mouth sucking possessive bruises into your neck and collarbones, trailing lower to tease your nipples one at a time. You always thought Mike would be an ass man, but the way he caresses the curve of your tits and drags his tongue across the hardened peaks like he's licking an ice cream cone makes you rethink that.

And he's so good at it. He could probably make you cum like this if he really wanted to, but he clearly doesn't. As long as he's waited for this? You know he wants to fuck it out of you. You've known that since the day you met him—at the mall, both fresh-faced and learning the ins and outs of being security guards together.

The tension was there then, and it's still here now. It's shocking either of you lasted this long.

Which makes it less shocking when his fully-hard cock slips between your thighs and drags steadily across your cunt until you're all but drooling. Slicking himself up, he teasingly notches at your entrance before slipping past to bump your clit.

He's making you so wet, you can hear it. You both can. Muted, wet squelching fills the room from under the covers, and his labored breathing quickly joins it, evolving into soft keening the longer he fucks between your folds.

"Mike...Mike—baby, you have to be quiet. We can't wake Abby up," you tilt your head to murmur into his curls.

Tonight, you learn he likes being called baby. So much so that all you get is a pained groan in warning before he sheaths himself to the hilt.

"S'fucking tight," he mumbles to himself against your shoulder blade as if that's enough to muffle his words. "Knew you'd be tight, goddamn."

And you knew he'd be big. He's thick and hot like molten lava inside you, as searing as his lips against yours as he starts to fuck you in earnest. It hurts like hell, the sweetest, syrupy pain, but if he doesn't fuck you harder soon, you're going to lose your mind. Or maybe you already have, because you actually said that out loud.

"Fuck—okay...okay, baby, I got you," he rasps into your shoulder, more wrecked than you've ever heard him.

You decide you like it when Mike calls you baby, too.

It only takes a few more mind-numbingly hard thrusts before you're gushing around him, making a mess of him and those soft sheets you've been looking forward to. He crushes you against his chest as you cum, one hand splaying across your stomach to feel the muscles contract and relax with every spasm of your lower walls.

Somehow, he feels even bigger now. You're so tight around him, it's making you feel delirious like all of this is just a dream. You had to have dreamed this up, right? Your dream boy in your dream scenario, babbling utter nonsense in your ear as he cums buckets inside you.

"...you...fucking hell. Waited—w-waited so...long. So long," he groans out in a garbled mess. "...forever."

While you struggle to process his words, still wracked with aftershocks, his thrusts get sloppier until he stills, buried as deep as he can go. Now, any hope of coherency is long gone. He pulses violently against your walls as he cums with a series of soft whines, emptying into you and overflowing down your thighs, joining the sticky patch you already left beneath you.

He doesn't pull out. Not even when you're passing out in each other arms, covered in sweat and fluids, and he's lazily running his fingers through the drying cum between your legs.

"Nothing has to change," he mumbles groggily into the nape of your neck. "If you...if—," he sighs, nuzzling into your hair to ground himself. "If you regret it, we can just go back to being friends. We can still be friends, right?"

No. After that, you really can't.

"Everything's changed," you counter softly. But that's a good thing. You feel warm and safe, and full in a way you weren't sure was even possible with Mike. But it's starting to seem like it could be. "Doesn't mean we can't still be friends. We can be more than friends, too...if you want—"

"Yes," he cuts you off, and that full feeling intensifies. "Yeah—yes, more than friends is good. Definitely good."

"Good. Now, go to sleep or you're getting exiled to the couch."

thanks for reading!

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

[princessbrunette]

john b & jj taking puppy!reader for ice cream for being such a good girl!! pup getting ice cream all over her face while she licks her cone all innocent, looking up at jj while hearts are coming out of his eyes and hes drooling a bit!!

✧˖°. ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ✧˖°.

you felt super loved.

john b was sat one side of you, the brunette himself having just got paid from his surf shop job therefore treating the three of you to icecream. he reclines in the booth slightly, his arm protectively around the back of your seat as he smiles gently, watching you scarf down the treat.

jj sits the other side, yapping away about something as you listen intently, occasionally taking a breath to spoonful a mountain sized dollop of icecream into his mouth. you’d think you’d be sick of icecream, working at an icecream parlour yourself — but there was something about the dessert that you knew you’d never tire of, especially when you’re enjoying it with people you love.

“so anyways, i’m half way down the street — my pants are fallin’ down, my shoe lace is untied and— damn, pooch, it ain’t goin’ anywhere— slow down.” the blonde interrupts his story to put his own pot of icecream down, grabbing a napkin from the centre of the table to wipe you down.

“jayj.” you groan, wriggling in his grasp as he mops you up. the brunette on your other side places a hand on your shoulder, not firm enough to keep you still, moreso a silent and gentle warning to do so on your own accord.

“eat slowly, pup. you remember what happened last time.” you can hear the amused smirk in john b’s voice without even turning to face him. memories of you wolfing down your dessert to quickly wind up sick flashes through your mind and you grimace.

“so many rules, just want my damn icecream.” you moan, but slowly drag your tongue along it, succumbing to the request to slow down.

jj goes to continue the story, his eyes flickering to the way you swirl your tongue in the pink syrup, blinking rapidly like he’s taking mental polaroids.

“so anyway, as i was sayin’… there… uh… so we were… shit.” he watches the way you put on a show without meaning to, making a mess of your icecream on your tongue once more.

john b tilts his head with a grin, squinting a little at the blonde. “you good, jay?”

“yup. so good. just can’t concentrate ‘cus our girl here is makin’ sweet love to her ice cream.”

you giggle, wiping your own mouth with a glint of mischief in your eyes.

“am not.”

“are too, look if you wanna suck it just say so, s’right here.” jj sits back with his legs open, gesturing to his crotch. the amusement leaves your eyes to be replaced with arousal, batting your lashes up at him now as john b rolls his eyes.

“jesus, would you two behave in public?”

suddenly your head is whipping round to look at him, and jj is slowly taking the icecream from your hand so you don’t drop it. “are y’gonna teach me a lesson if i don’t, daddy?” you pout and he sighs, leaning his head back on the booth for a moment as he gathers himself.

“yes.” he emphasises when he opens his eyes once more, reaching down to fix his shorts around his crotch, making jj chuckle. “and shutup. c’mon, we’re done here.”

“aww, but my icecream.” you mewl as the brunette pulls you from the booth to march you back to the twinkie.

“mhm, should’a thought of that pup.” jj gives your ass a subtle little swat as he passes you, leading the way to open the door to exit the parlour.

✧˖°. ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ✧˖°.

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

All parties involved are 18+/aged up.

Note ➳ Keep in mind this is written as FEM READER, but you can imagine however you’d like.

The men who are direct, cold, but who have no filter. Who will bite your damn head off under normal circumstances — but become whiny, writhing, fucked out messes when they get eaten out.

They white knuckle the sheets so desperately, so tightly that you’re worried they’ll rip as they lay face down with their ass in the air. They’ll wiggle and tense their thighs when your warm tongue runs over their soft, twitching holes again and again until they’re choking on their own moans.

Men whose voices splinter and crack as they beg you not to stop, who roll their hips in time with your tongue just to chase the sensation. The men who can’t help but arch their spines so prettily, one of their hands pressing on the back of your skull so you don’t stop tongue fucking them.

Men who want to sit in a chair, legs dangling over the arm rests with their asses on the edge of the seat so you they’re exposed entirely. They just love to watch you on your knees before them.

Men who bite their lower lips so hard it almost splits, fisting their cocks quick as hell to the sight of your pink tongue disappearing to lap over their holes. Who just about jolt out of the chair when you suck the soft muscle between your lips.

Men who beg you to touch your pussy while you eat them out. They get even more strung out watching you touch your clit, gazes locked on the way you’re getting yourself off.

Men who all but wail, who whimper and moan when you lick their rim as eagerly as one would eat an ice cream cone. Who plead desperately for you to let them cum when you dig your nails into the tender flesh on the undersides of their thighs.

Who gasp and cry out with voices that are absolutely wrecked — “fuck! fuck baby please, m’gonna cum, oh god, m’gonna cum! please please let me cum!”

Men who jerk themselves off until they’re at the very edge, who then stop and tangle both sets of fingers in your hair and tug sharply. Who let out loud, broken moans as their cocks kick, making messes all over their chests.

Men who stay so fucking turned on that even after they cum, they get a new fire in their eyes. Who stay rock hard and throw you on the bed to fuck your pussy until you can’t feel your legs.

DABI/TOUYA, levi, eren, GOJO, BAKUGOU, kageyama tobio, TOMIOKA GIYUU, MEGUMI, rayne ames + any of your faves!

[sturnmeovr]

"Babe?" Chris's voice echoes thru the apartment, followed by the front door closing behind him. Flipping the heavy comforter back, you pull yourself to your feet, stumbling out of his bedroom. The hardwood floors felt cold on the bottoms of your feet as you made your way to the kitchen, knowing that’s where he’d be. "Jiffy peanut butter, kosher dill pickles, Mcdonalds french fries, and a vanilla ice cream cone," he names off the list of food items you texted him on his way home. 

Chris got his license a few weeks ago, making it a lot easier for him to get the frequent cravings your baby urged upon you throughout the days. Before he’d always rely on Matt or he’d take your car and risk it, not wanting you to drive when you were vomiting every half hour. You let out a sigh of relief once he tells you he got everything you wanted, the ice cream and fries were the only thing your baby allowed you to eat, but recently you’d had a hankering for pickles and peanut butter. "Thank you. Beans been wanting these since last night," you hum, tiptoeing to press a kiss to his lips. Chris leans into the kiss before placing a hand on your belly, "whatever he wants. I know all you can keep down is fries and ice cream, so I got extra," he admits, digging a hand into the mcdonalds bag, and taking out a few fries to shove into his mouth. You make your way to the silverware drawer, pulling out two spoons and a butter knife, quickly making your way back to him to take a spot on one of the barstools at the island.

You watch as Chris pulls one item after the other out of the bag - a half pint of vanilla ice cream, kosher dill pickles, and jiffy peanut butter. Next, moving to the McDonald’s bags, he had clearly got extra for his brothers. Not being able to wait any longer, you fumble with the lid of the pickle jar, desperately trying to open it. Chris bites back a smile at your impatientness, "chill, kid. I’ll get it in a second, geez," he chuckles while his hands are still busy separating the orders. His response makes you huff and sit back in your seat, placing a hand over your belly as you realize Bean was doing somersaults at the smell of McDonald’s french fries, or maybe it was cause your baby’s dad was around. It was very evident that anytime Chris was near, your baby was very active. It didn’t matter if he was touching or talking to your belly, or if he was just simply next to you. His cologne always being a dead giveaway for baby bean to start the bullshit, flipping and kicking you relentlessly until you were uncomfortable. 

You were excited how fast paced your pregnancy was going. You were eighteen weeks in, nearly half way thru your second trimester and your pregnancy. Even though your morning sickness was just now letting up, the anticipation thickened in your gut by the day. The thought of having your baby in your arms was becoming more and more real. 

In the beginning, you had a hard time wrapping your head around the idea of you being someone’s mother. You and Chris’s relationship was progressing fast, and he seemed to be on his best behavior, knowing how he was in the past made you uneasy about how he’d do once the baby was here, but only time could tell. You were just grateful you weren’t going thru these difficult nine months alone. 

Nick walks around the corner, messy haired and sleepy eyed. You watch as he pulls open the fridge door, grabbing a drink, turning to you and Chris, "what is today?" he asks, gesturing towards the ingredients placed on the counter. You groan in annoyance, it irritated you that you didn’t have control over your own appetite, "I’m not sure yet. Either pickles and peanut butter or ice cream and French fries again," you hold out the pickle jar to him and he takes it willingly, popping it open with one easy twist of his wrist, and handing it back to you. "Thank you," you mouth before flipping the lid off to fish out a pickle. 

"Impatient ass," Chris teases, sucking his teeth playfully. "You were taking forever," you mumble as you open the peanut butter jar, tearing the paper seal off, and dipping your pickle into it. Chris and Nick watch you in disgust as you chop down on the pickle. You let a satisfied moan erupt from your lungs as the crunch of the pickles mix with the thick, sticky peanut butter, making baby bean thrash around as soon as the mixture hits your taste buds. "Yup," you cover your mouth as you talk, pointing at the peanut butter, "this is it," feeling accomplished you finally satisfied the pregnancy craving you had since last night. You felt relieved that you and the baby were finally agreeing with something other than fries and vanilla ice cream. 

"That’s foul. Your kid like pickles, it’s gonna be a fucking menace," Nick jokes as he scrunches his face. His comment earns a shit-eating grin from Chris, and you shrug your shoulders, not caring about your disgusting food concoction. There was no way you’d be eating this if there wasn’t a little being inside of you telling you that you needed it. You dip the pickle again, and Chris speaks up before you can take another bite, "let me try." 

You raise your eyebrows at him, surprised that he was even asking. He didn’t even like pickles. "Chris, if you try that I’m literally going to puke," Nick chimes in, slapping a hand over his mouth as he watches Chris take a peanut butter covered pickle from you, "I don’t know. She makes it look good, man," Chris says as he eyeballs the savory goodness nervously, looking at you for confirmation. You shrug, "you probably won’t like it if you don’t like pickles," telling him before taking a few french fries from the meal he placed in front of you moments earlier. 

You look over at Nick, he was already plotting on his next works, a smirk laid on thick across his lips, “no balls.” Chris furrows his brows at his brother, “I have balls. My girlfriends pregnant,” he shoots back, leaning towards you. "Not enough hair on to take a bite of that nasty ass -" Nick's words come to a halt as Chris chops down on the pickle, "oh my god. Chris, you’re disgusting!” You watch as Chris’s face contorts with repulsion, laughing with Nick as tosses it down on the counter, gagging while he runs to the trash can to spit it out, "think m’gonna be sick," he calls out before making his way back to the counter to take a drink of his Pepsi, "yea I’ll stick with the fries and ice cream."

"Yea, good plan," you tell him, patting his back before fishing out another pickle to dip. 

Wc - 1186

An - Back with another one, Baby Bean has only let sweetheart!Reader keep ice cream and mcdonalds french fries down (obvi cause its Chris's kids) but pickles dipped in peanut butter have recently been added to the menu 😭 Doing the gender reveal soon! <3

-Send me asks about sweetheart!Reader & babydaddy!Chris

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist - Masterlist for all works by me

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @delusional-4-fake-people @shadowthesim

© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. Please do not copy my work.

Dividers & Photo edits are mine - feel free to use!

[exerotica]

The Ice Cream Man

Explicit 18+, Instant Weight gain, Force Feeding, M/M, Sexual Themes

Flipping through the channels Jake passed by the news where he noticed the heat index was 105 right now. Even inside he was feeling it, his AC was barely able to keep his ancient house at 85. Thankfully his parents were gone for the day and he could lay on the couch shirtless without comments about the small flab he’s put on since starting college. He was thinking about cracking open the fridge and freezer to cool himself down when the faint sound of an ice cream truck pricked his ear, “Perfect,” he sighed.

Jake threw on his favorite shirt and hat and stepped out the front door, the wet boiling outside air hitting him like a wave of lava. Squinting, trying to adjust his eyes, he looked down the street and met the met the bright colorful box that called to him like a siren. He met the truck where it stopped, “Hey Connor, thank god you’re here!”

“Hey Jake, figured I’d see you today. How’s it been going?”

“The heat index is 105, I’m not NOT getting ice cream man. Summer has been flying by until this heat wave hit, I can barely move in my own house without breaking a sweat”

“Not too sure that’s all to do with the heat Jake. Freshman 15 is a real thing, and I distinctly remember that shirt not fitting so tight last semester”

“You sound just like my parents, I don’t mind a few pounds, especially in the off-season. I just need something to cool off, I’ve been dying today”

“The usual?” Conner had an ice cream cone ready in a few seconds. They caught up and talked about plans for next semester while some of Jake’s neighbors ordered from the Truck. Connor had clearly been consistent with the gym even during the summer, he was much buffer than Jake remembered from last semester. Jake finished his cone by the time his neighbors dispersed and still wasn’t quite satisfied. “Hey how about another cone?”

“Another one? People are gonna be calling you ‘big guy’ next semester if you keep this big back activity up man haha”

“Listen, you parked almost a block away from my house, this one is so I don’t die of heat stroke on the way back.”

Connor smiled, rolled his eyes, and had another cone in Jake’s hand within a few seconds. Jake enjoyed his second cone but lingered and kept chatting with Connor a bit more. He caught sight of Jake’s underbelly as the wind flipped it up against the soft outline of his belly button pressing against his shirt. He couldn’t help himself, “You know Jake, if you’re really looking to cool off, this was my last stop so I have time to kill, hop in.”

Jake raised an eyebrow and smirked, “If you’re planning on kidnapping me, I’m going to community college, so it should be pretty clear my parents can’t afford a ransom.”

“Get in smart-ass,” Connor closed the side door and let Jake in, watching his pudge ripple as he hopped up the steps into the back of the ice cream truck.

“Oh fuck, it’s so cold, can I live here?” Jake closed his eyes and let the cold wash over him for a bit. Connor showed Jake the freezers, topping buckets, and ice cream machine.

Jake tapped the machine as it emitted a slow consistent hum, “Damn this thing looks old”

“Yeah, most of my work honestly is running and keeping this thing clean. The owner like to take really good care of it, ‘none of that new fake shit’ he says.”

“Can’t say he’s wrong, I love the stuff”

“Clearly. Course, on a day like today, you’re the only fatass who can finish the ice cream before it melts.” Connor chuckled to himself as he tidied up around the truck.

“Who needs to worry about melting when you can get it straight from the source?” Jake quickly kneeled and twisted his body so that his head faced the roof of the truck and locked his mouth to the spout of the machine. Turning the knob and letting the soft freezing cream slither into his mouth and melt down his throat, cooling his entire body.

“Jake! What the fuck man, you’re lucky I have to clean that anyways. I didn’t realize you were THIS much of a pig.” Connor paused as he saw Jake’s body pressed out from kneeling backwards and his shirt riding up past his belly button, exposing his soft pudgy belly. Connor couldn’t help but get hard watching Jake chug the ice cream, his body plump frame getting stretched and rounder.

Jake gave a few final strained gulps and sat upright on both knees, holding onto his gut and wincing. “burrraahhhhh… fuck that was heavier than I thought it was going to be.” Jake’s shirt was practically skintight, his love handles and underbelly finally free from his shirt, acting more as a crop top with two soft breasts still pressed away inside.

He looked over at Connor and from his kneeled position had a direct view of his hard on pressing against his skinny beige slacks. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed that, Connor.” As he nodded to Connor’s waist.

Connor walked over to jake and stood in front of him, still kneeling Jake was inches from Connor’s cock and could clearly see just how big the outline was. “I just knew your fat ass couldn’t resist” Connor said, looking down at Jake’s soft features staring back up at him.

“I could use some help for round two..” Jake had barely finished speaking before Connor knelt next to him supporting his head as he pressed his lips to the machine. Connor flipped the level and cream started flowing again down Jake’s throat. He felt the cold liquid strain in his gut as it kept pumping into him. Connor pressed his buff frame against Jake’s as he rubbed and groped his fat, jiggling his love handles and reaching up his tight shirt to access his man tits.

“That’s it fatass, keep going. Look at how big that fucking gut is getting.” As Connor encouraged Jake, he noticed Jake’s body getting bigger. Not just his belly, but his tits, love handles, ass, everything was growing right in Connor’s hands giving him more and more to squeeze and jiggle. Connor could take it, his cock practically tore its own way out of his pants and started grinding against Jake’s fat blubber.

Jake’s moans muffled by the machine had grown louder and deeper. He felt his body growing and his clothes straining against his new fat which was starting to spill out everywhere. His mind was fluttering barely thinking anything more than just how good it all felt. Connor’s fat cock pressing into his doughy frame with a constant stream of fat flowing straight onto his frame. His belly pressed out from his once skinny frame, freely hanging over his pants and jiggling like jello with every touch of Connor’s hand. He could barely control himself when Connor had freed his cock and started jerking him off, so much sexual input coming from his body was sending his brain into a frenzy.

Ice cream pumping into his fat greedy gut and Connor fucking one of his newly formed fat rolls, Jake struggled to breath trying to moan and tensing up he shot rope after rope of hot cum onto Connor and the floor of the truck. Connor joined in and as he repeatedly forced his cock against Jake’s blubber, causes ripples of Jake’s fat to run across his body. He grit his teeth and groaned as he pumped cum all over Jake’s new fat for what seemed like an eternity.

Jake’s naked obese body collapsed onto the floor of the truck the moment Connor turned the ice cream machine off. Connor got on top of him and pressed his hard muscley frame into Jake as he held his head and kissed his chubby face. Jake’s brain still in its haze, “I can’t believe I’m this fucking big.” Connor slapped his gut causing Jake’s belly to ripple and him to moan, “That sweet tooth of yours just finally caught up to you big guy.”