#if anyone has more content pls tell me! i want to see it!

[simpjaes]

EROTIC EMPATHY (s.jy)

Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Nope. Are you about to? Yep. or the one where jake has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out. 

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it

WORDCOUNT― 12.7k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader 

CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that, facetime-sex, real life sex

SIDE CHARACTERS― jay as reader’s best friend and roommate, heeseung briefly as jake’s friend.

NOTE― if you've read this before it's because im the person who wrote it [ncteez] and im revamping it for jake, pls don't send me messages on either account about stealing a work that's already mine!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags―big huge dick jake, phone sex (ish), face time sex,  masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again,  no condom aka cream pie, jake gets feelings like immediately when u touch him

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Jay with a chuckle. “yes or no?”

Jay snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.

“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend. 

You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything. 

“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m gonna say yes.”

Jay groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you. 

“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”

You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-two-year-old Jake and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Jay laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the same way you do.

Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.

Fucking quiet.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before 

Jake: ….i’m 21, it says that in my bio

You: I think you’re lying. 

Jake: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol

You: why would i help you lie to other women

Jake: i’m not lying!!1

You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity. 

You: ok, twenty-one-year-old “jaeyun” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?

Jake: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after

Jake: maybe it's the playlists idk

You: send me the playlist

Jake: [spotify link to a playlist titled “NUT”] 

You try not to snort, but you do. Given, he does have decent taste, but why anyone would have dynamite by bts and never say never by justin bieber on their sex playlist is beyond you. 

You: surely it’s not your playlist…….

You: anyway

You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, like, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?

Jake: yea

You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’ve never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything

Jake: u don’t think im ugly? :) 

Jake: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before

You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?

Jake: can we stop talking about why im a virgin

You: sure but you know im gonna bring it up again, right?

You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity. 

You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.

Jake, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty. 

Jake: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number] 

You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile. 

You: [screen shot// contact name: grandpa jake] 

Grandpa Jake: :| 

Grandpa Jake: im 21

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, here’s the thing. Jake is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him. 

You: it’s been like four days since we started talking

Grandpa Jake: yep, almost five

You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?

Grandpa Jake: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol

You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something

Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.

Grandpa Jake: i do NOT have a micropenis

You: prove it

Grandpa Jake: right now???

You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly. 

You: answer my question first

It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not. 

Grandpa Jake: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here 

Grandpa Jake: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!

He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least. 

You: they won’t let you have anyone over? 

Grandpa Jake: well, that too but 

Grandpa Jake: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did

You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?

Grandpa Jake: her boyfriend walked in

You: WHAT

You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind. 

Grandpa Jake: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend

You: phew 

Grandpa Jake: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not? 

The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes. 

You: yeah, sure. 

You: about the micropenis though, 

Grandpa Jake: right…um

A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first dick pic from Jake. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.

You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok 

Grandpa Jake:  just give me a sec damn

He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic? 

Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.

He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down. 

Grandpa Jake: [image attachment] 

In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Jake though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.

You: oh, you were jerking off, got it. 

Grandpa Jake: sorry can’t help it 

Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books. 

You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis

You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good and watches porn like 24/7. You can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.

Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now that’s causing him to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers. 

“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Heeseung or some shit.

“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?” 

The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it’s you on the other line sends his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as you do via text. 

God, this alone is enough for him right now. 

“Were you at least thinking of me?”

He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides. 

“Were you looking at my pictures?”

He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him to talk right now, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.

“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more. 

“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”

“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”

“Letting me come over and actually do it?” That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow and bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement.

“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it. 

“I can facetime you.” 

He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately. 

“No! no, we can facetime–”

Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.

You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.

Oh fuck.

There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Looking at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.

“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”

He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.

“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”

You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at. 

“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Jake?”

“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his name come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. “This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits now, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly as he watches between your spread legs. 

In a way, he wonders if you can see how desperate he is. There’s no way you can’t, right? Like, you can see how badly he wants you, right?

“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”

He groans again with deep breaths, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it. 

“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”

You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you. 

“Better?”

Jake watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day. 

“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.

“Can I do what?  Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”

Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off. 

“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, uncaring of how dirty it sounds falling out of his throat with a moan. 

His eyes are boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy. Just like him.

His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him. 

“Is this what you want?” You start, making damn sure he can see every part of your glistening cunt. “You want to fuck this?” You chuckle now, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.

“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”

You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself. 

“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point. 

“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it, mouth falling open at the mere thought of it. 

“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”

Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes him look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.

You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered. 

His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful. 

“S-shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”

“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”

After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.

“Are you, um, done?” Jake says, disappointed.

“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”

His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off. 

“You still wanna see me after this?”

You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.

“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up. 

“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand. 

“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”

You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Grandpa Jake: what about 3pm on thurs?

You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???

Grandpa Jake: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours

You: or you could just come here? 

Grandpa Jake: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol

You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird

Jake contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway. 

You: what about tomorrow, 8pm? 

Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. God, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car. 

Grandpa Jake: send ur address, ill be there :) 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Heeseung croaks through the speaker at Jake, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke. 

“Why do you have to say it that way?” Jake groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”

“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Heeseung laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”

Jake laughs, or snorts really. 

“Oh, she’s real.”

Heeseung sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest. 

“Hm? Have you already met her?”

“Kind of. We like, um,” Jake pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”

Silence.

“She got naked.”

“Oh ho ho!” Heeseung encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?” 

“That’s what I said–wait,” Jake smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Heeseung just said. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Heeseung laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”

Then he hangs up. 

Grandpa Jake: do u think im a loser?

You: yeah kinda

You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Jay.

“That him texting?” Jay quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him. 

You laugh again at Jake’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Jay that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night. 

“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Jay. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”

“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”

“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Jake sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”

“I did not need to know that.” Jay sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet. 

“You act like you don’t ask every time I fuck someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Weirdo.”

Jay stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone. 

“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend. 

“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”

He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms. 

“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”

“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.” 

He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch. 

“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on any cum when I get home.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Jake is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by. 

So many “are you sures,” so many “you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos,” and even more “i can’t wait to see yous.”

“Jay, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. 

You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Jake is doing the same, and smile.

“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”

You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.

“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”

Jay laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today. 

“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you. 

“Thanks, that’s the plan.”

And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around seven thirty. 

Grandpa Jake: i’m a little early, is that ok? 

“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Jay. 

He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet. 

“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”

You give him a knowing look before nodding. 

You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.

Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Jay is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be. 

Not only did Jake think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment. 

“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–” 

“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Jay smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”

Jake does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Jay and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside. 

“She got all cleaned up for you.” Jay whispers, throwing Jake a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Jake still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, that’s my roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen. 

“Have you and him ever like…” Jake immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird. 

“Jay?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”

Immediately Jake moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.

When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him. 

Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, yes, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. 

He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Jake is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex. 

Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh in the short period of time you’ve known him along with how many times he’s willingly embarrassed himself

And now for the first time, he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants.

“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”

Jake tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more. 

“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the fact that this is happening. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks. 

You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Jake and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”

Jake laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.

He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. 

Now he’s here, and you’re right there. 

It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.

You turn after grabbing him the bottle and are shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back. 

He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him. 

For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly. 

His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now. 

If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Jay’s sake. 

“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”

“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”

Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.

You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against the wall, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone. 

You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.

Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera. 

“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him. 

At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.

“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”

He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and gripping your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you. 

It looks like he’s been wanting to do this to someone all his life, with his needy body proving it time and time again. Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again. 

“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”

He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. You can feel his nervous yet eager breath against you, making your eyelashes flutter at even that slight sensation. 

“Go on then.” You sigh out, trying to prepare for what he can manage with that pretty mouth of his.

You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts. 

He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy spread out like this on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal, to the point he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here. 

He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place. 

It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in a reaction at what he’s doing to you.

Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go. 

“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” You compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Keep licking there, and use your fingers too.” 

He hums without stopping, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen. 

You can feel his fingers make their way into you shortly after, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own in response, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you. 

“Just like that,” You encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you. 

It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.

“So good,” You say shortly, trying to give him the praise he needs while scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper. 

He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.

All day. He could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.

He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach orgasm so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.

“Faster, with your fingers—“ You choke out in a drawn out and pornographic moan, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say. 

There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.

Insane, really, that he needed to taste the messy relief before resuming. 

Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone. 

You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt. 

He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his cock in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.

“Did you…?” He asks softly, dipping his head shyly with his wet chin shining in the light of your room.

You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs. 

“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and want nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, I'm gonna do the same for you.”

He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.

“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.

“N-No!  It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that– like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”

His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Jake.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”

The light in his eyes returns and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you. 

“Jake, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his name loud and clear. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.” 

Well, he can’t have that now, can he? 

He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?

Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure. 

You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth when you pull back slightly. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base. 

He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking him in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes. 

It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, even through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop. 

He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of his cock and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on him like that, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it. 

He’s in love.

He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls. 

“Wait, wait wait–” Jake groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look. 

“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.

“No!” He heaves out with fluttering lashes, trying to regain sanity. “I was just getting really close.”

“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth. 

You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again. 

His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again. 

“Ah–wait–fuck.” He tries to protest, not wanting to finish so quickly, but there it goes. There he goes.

Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His eyes roll back and his fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it– how?

“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”

You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face. 

“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice. “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”

He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?

But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him. 

“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before and letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”

He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view. 

You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well. 

“I– I don’t even know at this point.” He admits with a stammer, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.

“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”

He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against the muscles and soft skin there.

He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.

He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.

“Already?” 

He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs. 

“I want to, um…” He shifts his eyes away from you. “Can I eat you out again?”

That’s new. Twice in one session?

“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”

You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up. 

You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up in front of him. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this. 

You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again. 

His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time. 

“It’s really the prettiest.” He says in a clear and shaking voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”

You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now. 

“Yeah? You just gonna stare at it?” You try to urge him, and it works.

Because of course it works. 

You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more. 

He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him just to feel his tongue chase. He eventually holds you in place against him, big hands holding you firmly against his face with a bit of force. And now? He’s licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now. 

You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard again is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense. 

After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you cum this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle. 

He hums out a rumbled moan at the sound of your cunt squelching around his fingers. So wet. More wet than any of the girls in the porn he’s watched for years. You’re dripping around his fingers, and the smacking sound is so fucking arousing to him.

And yeah, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you. 

The sound of your pussy amplifies when it’s against his tongue, and honestly, he could cum right now if he really wanted to. Already he’s hard again, but god feeling you, hearing you, seeing you like this for him? For some guy who has never once been able to give a girl his all like this? 

He’s so focused on you.

Which for you, is a bit of an issue because he’s really not going to let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself. 

He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that. 

You pull your body away from him quickly to let your rising orgasm subside, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him. 

“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”

He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair. 

“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”

“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “If you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”

His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–

“Really?” He asks, knowing full well the answer.. 

“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct with deep breaths, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, yeah?”

He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this. 

Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His is cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.

“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no,” He breathes in a sharp breath and grips your hips. ”Do that again.” 

You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard. 

You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this. 

You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, his little rumbled grow-like moans only made this all the more arousing.

“Ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds. 

He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now. 

“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”

“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” 

He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit is fucking raw for the first time? 

“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”

He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him. 

“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you. 

You smile, humming at him when you lift from him, standing on your knees to grab his cock and position him in the right place. 

“You sure you want it too?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it. 

“Fuck, yes.” His fingers tighten against you, his eyes squeeze shut, and his voice comes out as frantic and quite frankly, a bit annoyed. “Just do it already.” 

You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation. 

He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob. 

By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him makes you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.

“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you. 

He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So fucking hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good. 

Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the new feeling. 

You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again. 

His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling. 

You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside. 

“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.

That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it. 

You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.

You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you. 

He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound. 

For a moment, you think you can actually hear him unintentionally growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it. 

You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.

“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”

He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from cumming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you. 

You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely. 

You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints. 

“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, do it with me–”

Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable. 

“Oh, god. I’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.

He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy pulse around him as he continues to empty himself into you. 

It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense. 

Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good. 

By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity. 

He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.

In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (He’s being dramatic.)

All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Heeseung does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake. 

But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other woman and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.

You made him cum twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.

There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.

And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.

The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird. 

This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least. 

“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a cum-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”

He looks at you, and then at his food.

“Yeah, I guess I should…” 

“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”

It’s silent for a minute.

“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”

Thank fuck Jake is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet either. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.

Maybe you will be ready to give up the single life if it’s with Jake. 

You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes. 

Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?

“Hey, I should probably call Jay and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”

Jake nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out. 

“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”

You snort at him with a laugh right as Jay answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Jake’s friend than Jay whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents. 

“Hey Jay, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up. 

Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Jake and his phone. 

“Put him on speaker.”

Jake does just that, laughing at Heeseung’s reaction when he hears you speak rather than his best friend over the line. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ staying the night at your ex-husband's house was a mistake. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. you and gojo have a daughter. oral (m. and f. recieving), satoru calls you a slut + whore, degradation mixed with praise, mocking, dacryphilia.

author's note: edit—crying bcs an irl read this and alluded to it in one of our convos pls actually kill me /hj

"hey, sweetheart," the man holding your daughter's hand says casually, as if he doesn't know how much you hate the pet name. "you took your sweet time."

a familiar scowl makes its way onto your face and you cross your arms. "satoru, will you ever stop calling me that?" you ask exasperatedly, pressing two of your fingers into your temples.

six years.

you've known satoru for six years, and you were his wife for four of them. now, after a long, painful road, you two were finally divorcées.

it's been a year since you and satoru ended things, and sure, it was hard for all of you, but life moved on. your daughter, to her delight, still gets to see her father on weekends. and unfortunately, you usually tagged along.

"mommy, can we stay for the night?" your four year old asks, looking up at you with big, shiny eyes. "please?"

you hesitate — if it were up to you, you wouldn't stay in this house, the one you once lived in any longer. "sorry, pumpkin. i think we should go. wouldn't wanna intrude on daddy's space any longer."

you hate the look on satoru's face when you refer to him in the same way your daughter does. fucking pervert.

"you two can stay as long as you want," satoru interjects smoothly. he smiles lazily, kneeling down to your daughter's height and ruffling her hair. "it's kinda late, isn't it? i'd hate for you to have to drive all the way back in the dark."

"yeah, mummy!" your daughter says, nodding along to satoru's words. "i'm tired."

you wince and ignore the smug grin on satoru's face as he stands back up with a soft grunt. "we should head home, kiddo. i bet your dad has work to do, and we have our own house."

satoru frowns slightly at the last statement, but he doesn't even consider shooting back — not in front of his daughter. "sweetheart," he says to you, voice coated in that sickeningly sweet tone that you hated, "it's late. and i don't have any work."

when satoru sees the way you scowl at him, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "you have any other reasons why you wanna leave?"

none that you need to know.

both your ex-husband and your daughter, who takes after her dad more, take your silence as grudging agreement. 

"hey, kid, d'you want to go to bed?" satoru fondly asks your daughter, ruffling her hair again. when she nods, sleepiness evident in her eyes, satoru scoops her up and carries her off to her room without looking back.

when they turn the corner into your daughter's room, you sigh and plop down on satoru's couch. your ex-husband was an infuriatingly good father, and it pissed you off. 

a couple minutes later, satoru strolls out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. 

"so, babe, you dating anyone?" satoru says conversationally as he plops down on the couch next to you. he's close enough to make you tense, but stays just out of your personal space.

"what's it to you if i am?" you mutter, ignoring the pet name. you know that if you tell him to stop, he'll just say it more, so you don't bother.

he scoffs and faces you, resting his back against the arm of the couch. "what's up your ass today?"

"fuck off, satoru."

satoru whistles and tsks at you, shaking his head. "language, sweetheart. you kiss our daughter with that mouth?" 

after a couple seconds, his expression softens and he studies your face carefully. "what's on your mind?"

and just like that, you're back to the times when the two of you were happy. back when satoru wasn't such a dipshit and actually cared about how you felt.

unfortunately, those times were over.

long over, you remind yourself as you dig your nails into the palm of your hand. "nothing you need to be concerned about," you reply. your tone is clipped, and the words come out harsher than you meant them to.

satoru doesn't seem to mind. in fact, he has a lopsided grin on his face as he scoots closer to you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

"you wanna fuck it out?"

his words are so unexpected that your mouth almost drops open. thankfully, it doesn't, but a couple minutes later, your legs do.

"fuckkk," you moan, tilting your head back as satoru's tongue trails a stripe up your slit. 

"keep it down, sweetheart," satoru says without looking up. "don't wan' to wake up our daughter, do ya?"

you hum in response, physically covering your mouth with one of your hands to muffle the sounds escaping the confines of your lips.

in the year that you and satoru had ended things until now, you'd slept with a couple guys. you'd even dated one or two of them, but god, none of them could use their mouth like satoru could.

satoru can't help but smile as he eats you out, pulling away momentarily to shake his head at you. "tsk, you were so mean to me earlier. and now look at you." he dips his head to nip at your clit and grins when he feels you flinch.

"i've barely even started and you're already drippin' all over my sheets," he mutters, lips brushing against your inner thigh. "fuck, takin' my tongue so good, you little slut."

"satoru, i w-wanna cum," you mewl, shuddering when his tongue re-enters your folds. "wan' you inside me."

"i already am, dummy."

you feebly attempt to swat his head in response before scowling and insisting that he knew what you meant.

satoru scoffs as he pulls himself up to face level to you. he readjusts his position over you so your back is pressed into the mattress underneath him before pressing his lips to your ear.

"let's put that mouth of yours to use, yeah?" he mumbles, slipping two fingers underneath his sweatpants' waistband and tugging him off. 

it's been years since you last fucked with satoru, and in that time you had forgotten just how pretty he was. you'd never admit it out loud, but you really didn't mind the reminder. setting into a comfortable position, you wrap your lips around his cock, relishing the way his moans get louder and louder.

you hum slightly, resisting the urge to smile when you feel satoru shake from the vibration. but god, his reaction when you run your tongue over his tip? priceless.

"fuck, baby, it's been too long since you've sucked me off. forgot how good you were- aah," he cuts himself off with a breathy moan. "fuckkk."

you briefly stop to look up at him with a cheeky smile. "you still moan like a girl, satoru."

"and you're as much of a slut for me as ever," he grumbles, reaching down and pushing your head into his painfully hard cock again. "d-don't stop, baby. feels s' good."

satoru's moans only get louder from there, until you have to be the one reminding him that your daughter's asleep two doors down.

"m' gonna cum," he whines, grabbing a handful of your hair and tangling his long fingers in it. "swallow all of it, yeah? don't waste a drop."

you nod your head obiediently, using your tongue just the way you know he's always liked to push him closer and closer to the edge until–

"fuckin' whore," satoru gasps, groaning loudly as he cums in your mouth, hips grinding against your face. "aah, missed your s-slutty tongue, baby, fuck."

"missed your girly moans," you manage to gasp before his tip hits the back of your throat, painfully so.

"shut up and swallow," satoru commands, tugging on your hair just enough to make you cry out. "yeah, who's moaning like a slut now, hmm?"

after you swallow all his cum and lick your now-swollen lips, satoru has you open your mouth so he can check. 

"good girl, looks like there's at least one thing you can do right, even if it is just sucking me off. c'mere," he mutters, pinning you down on the mattress and making the bedsprings creak loudly. "m' gonna fuck you, m'kay?"

you nod, reaching out to stroke his saliva-covered cock. "y-yes, please, satoru."

your ex-husband, who you should really not be fucking with, looks down at you with a smirk and takes your hand, bringing it up to his lips. "you look so pretty, baby. all covered in my cum, never looked hotter."

he nudges your legs apart with his knee before pushing himself into you, gritting his teeth through a smug grin when you cry out in pain. "careful, baby. wouldn't wanna wake up our daughter with your slutty moans, would ya?"

"s-satoru, hurts s' much," you whine, pawing at his chest. "you're too big, i can't-"

"you're too big, i can't," satoru mocks, rolling his eyes. "how do you think our daughter was made, baby? did the storks just drop her off?"

his next thrust is particularly harsh, and something about your pained cry almost makes him cum again on the spot. "fuck, we should do this more often," satoru cooes, reaching up and stroking your cheek. "wait, you cryin'?"

yes, you were crying. your cheeks were wet with a mixture of your tears and the remainder of his cum from earlier, and fuck, all you could think about was satoru's cock. so much for being so over him.

satoru laughs, shaking his head and slowing his pace to give you a kiss. "just when i thought you couldn't get any prettier, you gotta go and prove me wrong," he mumbles, licking his lips. "god, you're fucking beautiful."

he presses his lips to yours again, this time letting his tongue slip into your mouth. "i missed you so much, baby. i still do," he mutters in between kisses. he's controlling the pace, purposefully making each kiss's ending sudden as to not allow you to talk — only him.

"you know how many times i've jacked off to you?" satoru breaths, reaching down to grab your thighs and push you impossibly deeper into him. "you know how fuckin' much i want to put a ring on your finger?"

"satoru, i-" you try to say, but his mouth is on yours before you can finish your sentence. and a couple seconds later, more words are waterfalling out of him.

"fuck, baby, you have no idea. i fucked up, but i swear i've changed. c'mon, give me one chance, i-"

"mummy? daddy?"

you and satoru both flinch and whip your heads towards the door when you hear your daughter's voice, preparing to make up some far-fetched story to tell her besides we were fucking.

thankfully, the universe allows you two seconds to cover yours and satoru's bodies with a blanket before your daughter opens the door and pokes her head inside. "i heard noises."

you look at satoru for help making up an excuse, and thankfully he has one ready to go. 

"oh, we were just watching a movie," he lies, running a hand through his hair. "go back to bed, kiddo. we'll tuck you back in in a second, yeah?"

your daughter looks at you before looking back at satoru and nodding. 

"close the door, please!" you call as she turns to leave. when the door shuts behind her, you let out a long exhale and bury your head in satoru's chest.

and to your horror, the door opens once more.

your daughter looks at you with shiny, curious eyes. "mommy, are you and daddy back together?"

satoru saves you from having to answer that impossible question with a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. "go back to bed, pumpkin. i'll be there to tuck you in."

ten seconds after the door shuts for what you hope is the final time, you turn and glare at satoru. "you're gonna tuck her in?"

satoru scoffs in mock disbelief, raising his eyebrows and pointedly looking you up and down. "if you wanna tuck in our four year old daughter covered in my cum, be my guest."

you nudge his arms off of you and bury your face in a pillow, groaning softly. "fuck you, satoru."

"love you too, sweetheart."

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:04」 — y.jeonghan

» seventeen menu | jeonghan menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ oni!Jeonghan × fem!Reader wc: 5.3k summary: Speed dating never was Y/N’s thing but lucky for her, she just so happened to meet someone worthwhile. He asked her on a proper date which developed into a relationship. After a regular date night, Jeonghan asks Y/N if he can try something new in the bedroom. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mention of alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food/drink consumption, coffee; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to the reblogs join my taglists! taglist for kinktober is CLOSED. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this one was going to be much different but sometimes, the story writes itself. i don't have much else to say so enjoy this piece for kinktober and hbd to Jeonghan! thank you for reading! the next part is Mingyu so stick around for that! as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), deepthroating (f receiving), bulge kink, use of pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, etc), unprotected sex (use protection pls), oral (m receiving), Jeonghan has a huge d!ck, and I think I got all of it but of course, tell me if I missed any. kinks: Bulge kink + deepthroatingdialogue prompt: ❛❛ I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already wet. ❜❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Dating in this day and age had always been difficult for you. 

When your friend, Voxx, first suggested speed dating, you laughed it off as a ridiculous notion, not wanting to resort to something you deemed so impersonal. Your friend reassured you that it wasn’t that bad and that they had met their partner during a speed date. 

“No, I get that,” you said as you leaned back against their couch, a glass of wine in your hand as they sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I didn’t put much stock in meeting someone on a speed date but Michael has been great and I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.”

You nodded, taking a sip from your glass. “Besides,” Voxx continued after taking a sip of their own glass. “How else do you expect to meet anyone? You never approach anyone at the bar, you hardly speak to anyone outside our friend group except for your coworkers,” they added, giving you a knowing look. You narrowed your eyes before lowering your gaze to your glass.

“You have a point.” 

Voxx smirked, taking another sip of wine. “It’s really not that bad and if you do get someone truly awful, you don’t have to worry about being stuck with them for very long,” they explained. “You only get a few minutes, maybe ten at most.” You nodded silently as you turned their words over in your head.

“Come on,” your friend whined. “You never know who you might meet!”

You sighed, looking up from your glass. “Fine,” you said when you saw the pleading look in their eyes. “I will attend but if it ends disastrously, I’m blaming you,” you added, pointing at them before downing the rest of your wine right as the timer on the oven went off, signaling dinner was ready and it was time for more wine.

Voxx promised to sign you up for the event, taking care of everything but sending the questionnaire for you to look over and fill out. You emailed it back to the event coordinator who was beyond excited that you were attending. Your friend told you they often hosted these events and was always this ecstatic.

The night of the event, you raided your closet, settling on a simple cream colored blouse with a small keyhole cut just above the bust. You paired it with a dark brown skirt, nude colored stockings, and a pair of stylish but comfortable heels in case you would be doing a lot of standing or walking. Grabbing your beige long wool coat to brave the elements, you were ready.

It was a Saturday afternoon which is why you chose to dress in the color palette you did. An evening event would have seen you in a much more extravagant cocktail dress and your red bottom heels you saved for special occasions.

You took the train into the city, getting off at the appropriate stop and making your way to the address provided by the coordinator which turned out to be a bookstore and cafe. You entered through the front door, greeting the cashier who then pointed you to the private room in the back. The main room of the coffee shop was rather large with couches, arm chairs, and tables placed throughout the shop. 

Every wall that didn’t have a window or doorway had a bookshelf lined with books, all separated by genre and organized by author name. It was very organized and tidy. You walked through the open doorway into another, smaller room with love seats, coffee tables, armchairs with a small end table between them. It was the perfect set up and away from prying eyes.

You saw that you were one of the first participants to show up and caught the eye of the coordinator. You only knew who she was because of the picture your friend had shown you. She walked over, smiling warmly at you as she approached. “You must be Y/N,” she said, holding your hand out. Up close, you noticed she had striking red eyes, pointed fangs, and her nails were unusually long and sharp.

As you took her hand, you felt her skin was cold to the touch and it dawned on you that you were now face to face with a vampire. “Uh,” you said, realizing she was waiting for you to answer. “Yes. I’m Y/N,” you replied. She smiled again. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Lucia,” she said. 

You thanked her, forcing a smile as you shook hands. “We’re waiting for the rest of the participants to show up but if you’d like to go grab a coffee and browse the books, feel free. We don’t start for another twenty minutes,” she added, pulling out a pocket watch — because of course she did — to check the time. You thanked her once more, looking past her at the other people in the room.

You noticed nonhuman features, inhuman eye and hair colors but also some that looked entirely ordinary. As you walked out of the room to go up to the counter, you saw a woman sporting yellow eyes with vertical slits and bits of scaly skin peeking out from under her hairline, you realized what you’d signed up for, letting out a small groan of frustration.

You quickly composed yourself as you approached the counter and ordered a simple caramel macchiato, paying and stepping aside to pay. As you waited, you pulled out your phone, shooting a quick text to Voxx, conveying your frustration.

You: YOU SIGNED ME UP FOR A MONSTER LOVERS SPEED DATING EVENT?!

Voxx’s response was instantaneous.

Voxx: I thought you might like to give it a try since your track record with humans hasn’t exactly been that great. You: a heads up would have been nice 😒 Voxx: if I had told you it was a monster lover speed dating event beforehand, would you have still gone? You: …no Voxx: exactly. Now stop texting me, put your phone on silent and enjoy the event! (:

You grumbled to yourself as you did just that, putting your phone on silent and slipping it into your pocket as the barista called out your name, setting your coffee on the counter. With your macchiato in hand, you perused the bookshelves, finding several old novels, settling on grabbing one of your favorites, Carmilla. 

With the book in hand, you returned to the back private room, moving to sit in one of the armchairs while you waited for the rest of the participants to arrive. Among the ones you'd already seen there were a couple more newer faces.

You kept count as the room slowly filled until there were a total of 19 bodies not including the hostess. There were 10 humans including yourself and 9 humanoids ranging from demons to reptilians and you were sure there was even the odd werecreature. The numbers were uneven though, which you thought odd unless there was meant to be one person without a match each round.

You saw Lucia look around and check her pocket watch once more before getting up and moving to the front of the room. She cleared her throat before smiling, looking around at the guests.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted. “And welcome to the annual Unconventional Couple's Speed Dating Event.” A light, scattered applause rang throughout the room, soft but noticeable. 

“Each year, my partner and I host this event to help humans and non-humans come together and meet in a safe environment without the judgment of others,” Lucia explained in a clear calm voice, her warm smile ever present on her lips.

“My partner, Greg, and I met 9 years ago by sheer coincidence and it was practically love at first sight. We decided after being together for four years that we wanted to help others like us meet and potentially find their match.”

As you sipped your coffee, you listened to Lucia's speech. It wasn't as if you were uninterested in dating a monster, it just wasn't something you'd put much thought into before. 

A loud bang rang out, making you jump in your seat along with several others and you turned your head in the direction of the sound to see a tall, and rather attractive, man bent over, nursing his knee. He'd run into one of the end tables by the door upon entering.

He looked up, his paint expression melting instantly when he realized he had all eyes in the room on him. He stood up straight, grimacing as he walked further into the room. “Sorry,” he whispered, moving quickly to take the empty armchair by yours.

Several of the others sent icy glares in his direction before returning their attention back to Lucia who started to speak again, going over the rules of the event. Your attention waned as the man in the armchair next to you shifted in his seat.

“If looks could kill,” he muttered. You threw a glance his way, noticing he was staring past you. His eyes shifted, meeting yours and you knew instantly, he was not a regular man.

He had brown eyes that seemed to glow slightly which bordered on uncanny territory for you. From this close proximity, you could see that he was even more attractive than you previously thought.

He had a medium golden skin tone with reddish brown hair, strands falling into his eyes. From between strands of hair, two small dark brown horns peeked out, the tips rounded into nubs.

He wore a white button down under a caramel colored sweater with dark brown fitted pleated pants and black oxfords. Over the entire ensemble, he wore a light cream colored long coat with brown buttons and a sash that hung untied.

He nodded pointedly past you, bringing you back to reality. You turned, following his gaze to find a pair of icy blue eyes staring at the two of you before turning away to look at Lucia. You turned to look at the man once more. His gaze met yours and he smiled, giving you a wink before he turned his attention to the front of the room.

After explaining the rules, Lucia had ten participants, half the humans and half the nonhumans, sit while the remaining half would be the roaming half. It worked out that all humans sitting would be paired with nonhumans and vice versa.

You were lucky enough to be included in the group that was seated, removing your coat and draping it over your seat as Lucia passed out cards with a list of potential questions to ask. You looked over the card, chuckling to yourself at the logo. You read over the questions, rereading them a few times so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the card.

Lucia then explained you would have up to ten minutes with your date before the timer went off. You were the second to last in the rotation of human females. The first nonhuman to sit in the armchair next to you was a werewolf named Liam. He was nice enough but he had some rather interesting ideas about his ideal family that you weren’t entirely on board with.

As he got up and moved to the next station, the man from before sat down, smiling at you as he settled back in the chair. “Well, hello again,” he said softly, grinning broadly at you. “Hi,” you said holding back a chuckle as you set your almost empty macchiato down on the table.

“I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself earlier,” he said. “I’m Jeonghan.” You looked up as he held out a hand. You took it, shaking his hand. “Y/N,” you replied. “So uh, tell me Jeonghan,” you started, clearing your throat and glancing at the cards.

“What color would you say best describes your personality?”

Jeonghan’s smile widened as he let out a low laugh. “Color?” he asked. “Maybe a nice deep red. Like a merlot,” he said, smirking at you. “What about you? Any color out there to let me get an idea of who you are?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. “Purple,” you answered quickly.

“Purple? Is that like an eggplant or —”

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Like a bright, vibrant, almost neon purple.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot up as he looked you over. “Neon purple?” he asked. “You?” You nodded, holding back a smile. “You look more like a baby pink. Pastels,” he said as he straightened up. You laughed to yourself, nodding as you looked down. “You should see me at night,” you replied.

“Is that an invitation?” 

You lifted your head to look at him. His smirk had grown, looking even more mischievous as time went on. You found yourself holding his gaze. His eyes were so beautiful and there was something behind them that drew you in but you couldn’t place it. He was overall mesmerizing.

“We only have like five minutes left,” he said suddenly, drawing you from your trance. “Right, you said, glancing down at the card again. Your mind seemed to go blank whenever he opened his mouth. It was unlike you and an entirely new experience but it was one you were liking.

“What are you most passionate about?” you asked, reading from the card.

“Sex. Next,” Jeonghan answered, making you choke on your spit. He laughed as you picked up your drink and sipped, trying to quell your cough. “I’m kidding,” he added as you managed to subdue your coughing fit. “That was supposed to make you laugh. Not potentially kill you.”

You waved your hand, dismissing his concern. “I’m fine,” you gasped, setting your cup down. “I’m passionate about food,” he said as you regained your composure. “Food?” you asked, looking up at him. He nodded. “I love food. Good food is important to me.”

“Okay,” you said, shifting in your seat to face him properly. “Your friends are coming over for dinner, what are you cooking?” you asked. Jeonghan smiled as he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. “What friends?” he joked.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you said, giving in to his teasing. “Do you snore?” Jeonghan asked abruptly,” you looked up at him, alarmed. “What?” you asked. “Do you snore?” he asked again. You stared at him silently for a few minutes before answering. “Only when I’m sick,” you said, looking down at the card once more.

“Do you have any party tricks?”

Your question made Jeonghan laugh loudly. “Take me to dinner first,” he said with a wink. Your cheeks burned as you met his gaze. The line itself was enough to have you flushing but the wink just added an extra amount of cheese to it.

You glanced down once more but Jeonghan leaned forward, grabbing the card out of your hand and sat back as you looked up at him. He crumpled the card in his hand, giving you another mischievous grin. “Ask me something off the top of your head,” he said softly, cocking his head to the right.

Your mind went blank as you stared at him. Being put on the spot like this made you nervous as hell. ‘What could I possibly ask him?’ your mind went reeling as you tried to grasp for something to ask. Jeonghan checked his watch, glancing up at you. He made a soft ticking sound, as if to try and pressure you into asking a random question. One that wasn’t printed on the card.

“I am so sorry,” you said softly. “My mind is completely blank.” Jeonghan chuckled as he set the crumpled up card on the table. “That’s alright,” he said, picking up his coffee and downing the rest of it as the timer went off, signaling that 10 minutes had passed.

You felt your heart sink. You didn’t want the time with him to end. He got up and grabbed his coat before he leaned over as the participants started to move to the next station. “When the next round ends, meet me outside. This is boring as hell and you are most certainly not,” he whispered in your ear before standing up, giving you another wink with a smile before he turned and headed for the last date as your third one sat down. 

The third round wasn’t nearly as entertaining or interesting as Jeonghan had been. He was a shapeshifter named Kai and he was nice, much nicer than Liam, but he was also quite awkward. When the round finally ended, you felt relief wash over you.

Lucia stood at the front of the room, calling for everyone’s attention.

“Now that we’re finished, I’d like you to fill out the back of the card I gave you and write down the names of the participants you’d like to meet again,” she said. “And afterwards, if you’ll stick around, we have a few ice breaker games to get to know everyone a bit more.” 

You looked around as everyone flipped over their cards and started writing. You grabbed your wrinkled one and picked up the pen before writing down one name only: Jeonghan.

Looking up, you saw Jeonghan get up, walk up to Lucia and slip the card into a small box on a table next to her. You saw him briefly exchange words with her before he turned and started for the door. He met your gaze, sending you a wink before he disappeared out the doorway into the main area.

Following your instincts,” you got up and walked up to Lucia. She smiled as you slipped the card into the box. “Are you going to be staying for the ice breaker games?” she asked, sounding hopeful. You forced a smile, shaking your head. “Sorry,” you replied. “I actually had something come up. Family emergency.” Lucia smiled politely. “Of course,” she replied, nodding understandingly.

“Thank you again.” you added. “This was a very informative experience.” You exited the room, returning your book to the shelf and dropping your used mug off at the counter.

Once you were back outside, you looked up and down the sidewalk, hoping to see Jeonghan standing nearby but you didn’t see him anywhere. You felt your heart sink, wondering if you’d taken too long as you continued to look around.

You walked towards the edge of the sidewalk, looking on the opposite side to see if maybe Jeonghan had crossed over. You were getting more and more dejected as you didn’t see him anywhere. You sighed, hoping that Lucia would at least be able to pair you up as you turned and started down the street towards the bus station.

“There you are,” a voice said from behind you. Turning, you saw Jeonghan walking out of the coffee shop and waited as he jogged lightly to catch up. “Thought you had taken off,” he said as he matched your pace, tucking his hands in his coat pockets. You smiled as you walked along. “I thought the same actually,” you said, making him chuckle.

You walked in silence for a few minutes until he skipped ahead, moving to stand in front of you just as you reached the bus stop. “Alright,” he started. “So, I’m sure you wrote my name down. I wrote yours down and only yours,” he added. “So how about we skip the middle and I take you out tonight?” he asked.

Your heart skipped a beat as a smile spread across your face. “Okay,” you said softly, feeling suddenly shy. Jeonghan snorted. “Well, jeez,” he started jokingly. “Don’t go jumping for joy. Wouldn’t want you to die from excitement.” You laughed, playfully swatting at him. “I’d love to,” you replied.

Jeonghan smiled, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Then let’s not wait for Lucia to do her thing,” he said, unlocking the screen and tapping away. “We can just exchange numbers now.” You quickly pulled your phone out and pulled up a new contact as Jeonghan held out his phone. You exchanged with him, typing in your name and number, adding a purple heart emoji.

When you had your phone back in your hands, you read his contact card. His name had the red ogre emoji next to it with the sunglasses smiley face. You shot him a quick text before pocketing your phone. “So what time were you thinking?” you asked, looking up at him as he checked his phone before slipping it back into his coat pocket.

“How about seven?” he asked. “And if you don’t want me to know where you live, let’s just meet there, yeah?” he asked. You nodded. “Meet where?” you asked. Jeonghan nodded towards your pocket. “I sent you the address. It’s a restaurant I love and I’d like to actually share it with someone.”

You pulled out your phone, looking at the notification. You would look it up later to make sure it was actually a restaurant. You trusted that Lucia would vet all the participants pretty well but you could never be too certain. “So, I’ll see you at seven?” he asked as the bus pulled to the stop.

You pulled out your bus pass as the doors opened, several passengers getting off. “Seven,” you agreed, looking back at him with a smile before getting onto the bus, scanning your pass and taking a seat. You waved at him as he stood on the sidewalk. He waved back, smiling as the bus started to roll forward and soon he was out of view as the bus continued down the street.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and fished it out, checking your messages.

Jeonghan👹😎: you’re really pretty (:

You chuckled as you typed a response back.

You: so are you ;)

Jeonghan’s reply was instant.

Jeonghan👹😎: see you at seven, beautiful

One date with Jeonghan turned into two which turned into a third and after a few weeks, you were dating pretty regularly. Lucia had contacted the both of you a few days after the speed dating event to inform you that you had both selected each other and she passed on your contact details but you already had exchanged them.

Your regular dates turned into something romantic and sexual after a couple months and by the third month, you had agreed to be exclusive. You really liked Jeonghan. He was smart, funny, charming, and a little bit annoying but you liked his teasing.

On the surface, he liked to joke around, tease, and play pranks but under that silly exterior was an extremely caring, loving, and passionate person. You learned on the fourth or fifth date that Jeonghan was an oni. You knew from the start that he wasn’t human but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. If anything, it made him much more alluring and added to his appeal.

You’d never truly considered dating any monsters before but now that you had, you were certain you probably wouldn’t ever date human men again. Your past with dating had been turbulent and rocky to say the least but ever since meeting Jeonghan, things had been so much easier. Your relationship with him seemed to come naturally to the both of you.

In the bedroom, things were beyond amazing. Jeonghan was neither pushy or hasty to make you do anything you didn’t want to. Sex with him was as easy as breathing. All you needed to get into the mood was some playful banter, a few light touches, and some whispered dirty words and you were putty in his hands. He was a skilled lover and you were never left unsatisfied.

After a date night out, you returned to your apartment, inviting Jeonghan in for a moment which you knew would turn into more if you played your cards right. 

“I’m never ordering that again,” Jeonghan said as you giggled, letting him into your apartment as you stood in the doorway. Once the door was shut, you moved to set your purse on the kitchen counter, fishing out your wallet and phone as Jeonghan walked up behind you. You felt his hands on your waist as he pressed into your backside.

“I like this dress on you,” he murmured, lips brushing against your exposed shoulder. “Yeah?” you asked softly, leaning back against him. He hummed in response, pressing a few kisses to your shoulder before you turned around in his hold, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair. “I think the only thing that would be better is if you took it off,” he said, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

Your fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer as your lips parted, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You felt his fingers dig into your hips, pulling them flush against his. Pulling back slightly, you smirked as he tried to chase your lips. “Maybe you should take it off,” you whispered, nuzzling his nose. Jeonghan let out a groan, sliding his hand down to cup your ass before moving to pull your thigh up, pressing his clothed crotch into you.

“Bedroom,” he muttered, peppering kisses along your jaw. “Now.”

You did as he demanded, heading for the bedroom with him on your heels. Once inside, you heard the soft click of the door shutting as you turned on the bedside lamps. Jeonghan was on you in an instant, pulling at your dress, kissing your neck, littering your skin with love bites as he guided you towards the bed. “I’d like to try something new tonight,” he whispered between kisses.

His hands unzipped the side of your dress, hands moving up to slide the straps of your dress down your arms and letting the garment fall to the floor at your feet, leaving you in your lingerie and heels. “What’s that?” you asked as you stepped out of your dress, kicking it across the wood floor.

Jeonghan cupped the side of your neck just under your jaw. “Climb onto the bed,” he said softly. You glanced down at your feet. “My heels,” you started. Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “Shit, right. Let me handle that.” he said, kneeling down to quickly remove your shoes one at a time. He tossed them aside, ignoring the clatter they made as they bounced across the wood.

“Now, sit on the bed,” he said, gently nudging you. You followed his instruction, sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking up at him as you waited for further instruction. Jeonghan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips and cupping your cheek.

“You know I absolutely love it when you use your mouth,” he started softly. “And I love the way you do it but I’ve really wanted to fuck your mouth for a while now,” he continued. “I’d really like to try it, if you’ll let me.” You nodded, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand over your face and kissing his palm. “And I promise to reward you,” he added. “Of course,” you answered. “I love trying out new things with you.”

Jeonghan leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. Standing up straight he pulled his tie loose, discarding it on the floor before undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, keeping his eyes on you. He dropped the shirt to the floor, moving his hands to undo the zipper of his pants.

“Here,” you said, reaching out to grab him by the waistband of his pants.

You made quick work of his pants and underwear, pushing them down his thighs, revealing his already hard and leaking cock. You took him in your hand, opening your lips and taking the head into your mouth. Jeonghan let out a throaty groan, one hand moving to the back of your head.

You moved your head, bobbing and taking more and more of his cock into your mouth. You felt the tip hit the back of your throat as he thrust slightly, making a wet gagging sound. You pulled back, waiting a moment before resuming. 

You felt his grip on your head tighten as he pushed you further down. “Just a little more,” he groaned. “I know you can do it, sweetheart.” You obliged him, sinking his cock further into your mouth until you felt the head push into your throat. Jeonghan let out a loud moan, throwing his head back.

“Fuuuuck, baby,” he groaned, swallowing thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. He let out a shaky breath, lowering his gaze to look down at you. The hand on the back of your head moved up to the top, slightly tilting your head back. More of his cock sank into your throat at this angle.

He let out another strained moan as he felt your throat constrict around his cock. He moved his other hand down to your throat, fingers feeling the bulge of his cock in your throat. “Oh, shit,” he whispered. “That’s so fucking hot.” He wrapped his fingers around your neck, squeezing slightly.

After a moment, he pushed your head back slowly, his cock slipping out of your throat.

Once freed, you pulled back, gasping as air filled your lungs. “You alright, baby?” he asked, gently caressing your cheek. You nodded, coughing slightly. “You okay to keep going?” he asked, his voice sounded full of concern. Again, you nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “M’Okay.” 

Regardless, Jeonghan gave you a few moments to recover your breath before letting you continue. “If you need to stop, just tap my thigh, okay?” he asked. You nodded, taking his cock in your hand, you stroked him quickly before taking the head back in your mouth, the weight of his cock heavy against your tongue.

Jeonghan’s hips thrusted forward, burying his cock further into your mouth. You removed your hand, moving your hands to his hips as he set a slow, steady pace. You kept your jaw lax, letting him fuck your mouth at his own pace. Each thrust made that same wet gagging sound at the back of your throat, filling the room with nothing but that sound.

His fingers curled into your hair, tightening his grip on your head as he guided you to move into his thrusts. “Fuck,” he groaned. “M’close.” He slowed to a stop, pulling his cock from your mouth. “Up,” Jeonghan ordered, holding his hand out for you to take. He pulled you up onto your feet before turning you to face the bed, pushing you onto it. He removed his pants quickly before cupping your sex.

“Holy shit,” he groaned. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already wet?” he asked. You whined, wiggling your hips. “Don’t tease me, Hannie.” He chuckled, moving to pull your panties down your thighs. “God, look how fucking wet you are. Fucking soaked,” he growled, fingers swiping through your folds before sinking into your cunt. You let out a moan as he slowly curled his fingers.

“Please, Jeonghan,” you whimpered. “Please fuck me.”

You heard him chuckle as he removed his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and cleaning them. “You sure you’re ready for me, angel?” You nodded eagerly. “Please,” you whined. “Please. I can take it.”

Jeonghan chuckled again, grabbing the base of his cock and gliding the tip between your folds, gathering your arousal before pushing the head into your slit, the warmth of your cunt welcoming him as he glided in, unrestricted. Each inch filled your walls, stretching you slowly to accommodate his size. “F-fuck,” you gasped as he bottomed out, tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

“So f-full,” you groaned. Jeonghan gave you a harsh thrust, making you cry out sharply. “You really sure you’re ready, my love?” Jeonghan asked, moving his hands to your hips. You nodded once more. “Yes,” you whined, feeling him retract slowly. “Please just fuck m-me!” you gasped as he snapped his hips forward, filling you in one, sharp thrust.

“Oh I plan to,” Jeonghan said softly. “You might wanna hold on, sweetheart,” he added.

“You’re in for a long night.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[wttcsms]

we play our fantasies out in real life ways ; shouto todoroki.

pairing shouto todoroki x f!reader  word count 2.7k  synopsis knocking up his sugar baby seems (and feels) like a dream come true for the future ceo and youngest son of japan’s richest conglomerate family. content contains sugar daddy!shouto, yandere themes, car sex, creampie, breeding kink, quirkless au, ceo!shouto, tiny daddy kink author’s notes this is a repost of an old fic but pls tell me we are still horny 4 shouto. also ignore the Tesla promo, i was feeling silly when i wrote this </3

He can have anything he wants, you know.

And of course you know this. Of course you do. It’s hard to ignore this fact whenever he’s the exact reason your closet is overflowing with more dresses than you know what to do with; why your dresser can barely stay shut due to the amount of lacy lingerie you’ve had to shove in them; why you’re a third year college student driving to campus with a brand new Mercedes that technically isn’t even supposed to be out on the market ‘til next month. 

He can have anything he wants, and because you’re his, by extension, you have the power to make all your material wishes come true, too. All you have to do is ask him.

All you have to do is look up at him and give him those puppy dog eyes of yours and say, “please, daddy, can I cum?” and he’ll let you. You know he will, because stoic Shouto Todoroki, the future CEO and prized son of the Todoroki clan that happens to be one of the most famous conglomerate families in all of Japan, just can’t seem to say no to you. He signs off multi-billion yen deals as easily as one blinks and running multiple companies is just something he’s been born to do. It’s no easy feat to give commands to such a powerful man. 

And yet, one look and a tiny whimper is all it takes to turn him into putty in your hands. 

It’s always an out of body experience when you’re with Shouto. Being with him is like constantly being the main character of a movie. He rents out entire restaurants so the two of you can dine away from prying eyes. He sends you good morning and good night texts every single day. (One time you joked about him forcing his assistant to do it because there’s no way a busy man like him would ever have time to do something so insignificant; he didn’t like that you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around the concept of you being someone very important to him.) Shouto is incredibly good to you, incredibly good for you.

He’s incredibly good with a lot of things. Taking care of you, for one. Taking care of all his businesses, for another. And right now, he’s taking real good care of your cunt when he’s got three of his fingers knuckles deep in you. 

The windows to his sleek, outrageously priced car are tinted so dark, even you struggle to see through the windshield. You always tell him it’s dangerous, but he reminds you that there are always reasons for the things he does. You wonder if getting tinted windows so he could fuck his college student sugar baby with some semblance of privacy is the reason. 

And then all thinking on your end comes to a stop when he nips at the skin of your neck, biting down softly and getting you to let out a tiny whimper. It doesn’t hurt. You don’t think Shouto is even capable of hurting you; not because you’re some unbreakable being, but because you don’t think the calloused hands that have caressed every centimeter of your body is capable of harming you. 

The two of you are currently parked in the lot right outside the building where his main office is located. In about ten minutes, the parking lot will be flooded with employees who have just clocked out and are getting ready to speed home. In about ten minutes, anyone could accidentally (or purposely) become a little voyeur to the activities going down in the future CEO’s luxury car. 

Your back is pressed against his chest. More often than not, you find yourself naked while he’s practically still dressed, and it’s the same thing that’s happening right now. The buttons on his shirt are digging into your back, but you can’t find it in you to complain. Instead, you focus on gripping the wrist of the hand that’s in between your thighs. The sleeves of his button down shirt are rolled up, and if you take your tiny fingers just a bit higher, you can feel the veins running down his arm. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” The baritone of his voice is smooth, calm, collected — in control. Because you can make any request in the world, and Shouto will fulfill it for you, but that does not mean that you are the one who makes the final decisions. At the end of the day, everything you have, everything that is given to you, is because of him, because of the decisions he makes for you.

His eagerness to gift you the world thinly veils the true depth of your submission to him. A subconscious part of you is well aware of the power imbalance in this relationship, but if all has been well these past two years, then surely it’ll only be smooth sailing from here?

You lean back, leaning into his warmth, breathing deeply to inhale the scent of his spicy cologne that costs more than your textbooks (that he bought for you). 

“D-daddy.” You moan out, trying to coax him deeper in your tight little cunt, as if his fingers aren’t already as deep as they can go, spreading out your hole to prep you for what he knows you truly crave. 

“You’ve got to speak up, love. I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what to give you.” His breath is warm against your ear, and it’s so hot in the car. So, so hot. You wonder if it’s just you feeling the heat, though. Shouto seems as collected as ever, not the least bit uncomfortable at all. 

“Mmm — w-want you.” You wriggle a bit in his lap, but his free hand grips your side and squeezes you with a firm, nonverbal command to stop moving. You do, immediately. Because that’s what you always do: follow his command. 

“I know you do.” He coos, finally moving his fingers. It’s agonizingly slow, too slow. The car is silent save for your little pants and the obscene wet sounds that come as a result of his fingers thrusting in your wet cunt. 

“Faster, daddy.” You whine out, looking up at him. The sun is setting, and despite the tint of the windows, the orange glow from the sun still shines against his smooth skin, casting his face into something that’s half sunset/half shadow. It’s a good look; a sharp contrast that matches his hair. Seeing your blatant admiration of him only spurs him to give in and go faster. He had planned on drawing this out for as long as he possibly could. He had originally wanted to coax you into as many orgasms ‘til you were nothing but a fucked out little mess, too worn out to pay attention or even care when he finishes your little session with you plugged up with his cum. 

The lives of children born into the Todoroki family are more cursed than it is blessed, and Shouto had, a very long time ago, made a vow that he would never continue the bloodline. He would have no children, which would be easy because he planned on never having a lover.

And then he met you, started providing for you, realized how much he enjoyed providing, and realized even more that the only way to strengthen this transactional relationship is by forcing your hand. He likes to think that you would stay with him willingly, but there are some chances that he’s just not willing to take; there are some extremes that he’s all too entirely happy to go far to, though. 

Your sweet moans mix in well with the lewd sounds of your pussy getting thoroughly fingerfucked. His fingers are so much longer than yours, can reach spots inside of you that you can’t quite reach yourself. He’s efficient with anything and everything he does, and you’re not surprised when he doesn’t slow his pace. The consistent strokes of his fingers, your lowered inhibitions when around Shouto, and the look on his face (equal parts concentration and adoration) all help in making you cum all over his hand. 

“Good girl.” Shouto whispers, removing his fingers and holding his hand up. The sunlight beaming through makes his digits glisten even more, and you’re enraptured as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips to suck your essence off of them. Piercing heterochromatic eyes never leave yours as he sucks on them, and you have to turn away from embarrassment. How can he keep such a straight face when literally licking your cum off his fingers? 

“Don’t turn away from me.” His hand — still wet — grips your chin and forces you to look at him again. “I don’t like it when you shy away from me.” 

You nod meekly, and Shouto sighs. 

“You shouldn’t be shy around me. I don’t like making you feel uncomfortable, you know that, don’t you?” 

You nod again, a subtle, barely there move. He’s not impressed. 

“Answer me properly.” There’s a hard edge to his tone, and you sit up a little straighter. Shouto would never lay a hand on you with the intent to physically harm you, but he’s not above roughing you up during sex. You’ve heard him get this way before, and the imprint of his fingertips and the purple hickeys littering your poor body took three days to fade properly. 

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You say with a pout, trying to conjure up any sort of leniency he can spare. Judging by his facial expression and the wavering look in his eyes, he’s already softening up. You just have to make it up to him now to have his complete forgiveness.

Maneuvering in the limited space the driver’s seat gives is no easy task, but you manage to shift positions to where you’re straddling his lap, finally facing him properly. He’s leaned back, watching you with a hungry glint in his eyes that makes you feel like the most wanted girl in all of Japan. A surge of heat flows through your body, from the tips of your ears to your cheeks and all the way down to between your thighs. If you were in a different position, you could clench them together, try to rub your thighs in an attempt to ease the need for friction. 

Your fingers make quick work of his belt and his zipper, pulling down on both the waistband of his slacks and his briefs to finally free his cock. He’s already hard, and you admire the way your hand can’t even wrap fully around him. The tip is flushed red, pearly beads of precum already present. 

This is the part where you look up at him, almost as if you’re unsure about what to do. You don’t know what it does to him, to see you sitting on his lap with his cock looking outrageously large in your tiny hands. He can see your pretty pussy practically dripping all over his slacks. Now’s not the time for you to be playing the role of an innocent, unsure little girl, but then it hits him: you’re asking him for permission. He almost lets out a bark of laughter. 

“You’ve already taken it upon yourself to tear into my pants and make a grab for my cock. Surely you don’t expect me to beg to fuck your little hole now, do you?” He has a cold smile on his face as he brings you closer to him. “I thought this was my apology. Don’t tell me you’re going to make me do all the work?”

“O-of course not!” You look startled at the suggestion, eyes going big and round. He looks at you expectantly, as if telling you to do something. 

It always burns when you first take him. It doesn’t matter how many times he makes you cums, doesn’t matter how long he spends stretching you out on his fingers. By now, your pussy should have memorized the feel of his dick, should have been moulded to fit him and only him. And while there’s a tiny flash of pain and discomfort for you (which Shouto hates), it’s hard not to be in love with the feel of just how tight you are. 

The stinging pain is brief, though, and is easily replaced by one of satisfaction from being stuffed by the prettiest, fattest cock you’ve ever taken in your life. 

You moan, rocking your hips back and forth. Maybe this was originally supposed to be an apology to him, but it feels more like you’re using him as your own personal toy, and Shouto really couldn’t care less. After all, if it brings you pleasure, it brings him pleasure. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, baby? What would happen if I never met you, hmm? Are you willing to spread those pretty legs of yours for any man?” He says the last sentence with a tone sharper than usual. You shake your head as you continue to rut against him, chasing after your own high because you might not be a simpleminded slut for anyone, but you are nothing more than a cockslut when it comes to Shouto. 

“Ah — fuck, fuck, fuck!” You moan out, falling against his chest, burying your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. “D-daddy, fuck!”

He holds you close to him as you cum, not even minding the mess you’ve made of his work pants. “Daddy’s got you.” He coos, his hand finding the back of your neck and squeezing you there, gently. “You must be tired now…”

You’re still too fucked out to really comprehend what’s exactly going on ‘til it’s happening, but even with your slow reaction times, you still manage to let out a slutty moan as you feel Shouto thrusting up into you. It must be uncomfortable, you think. This position doesn’t make it exactly easy for him to chase after his own pleasure, but then you remember that Shouto Todoroki doesn’t back down or break down when it comes to challenges.

He perseveres. 

You’re like a rag doll, like a personal little fucktoy, made for him to use (and maybe even break) as he pleases. Every thrust is sharp and intense, and his teeth are clenched as he continues to use you, enjoying the warmth of your tight walls and admiring the ring of white that coats and clings to his dick every time he pulls out. 

It doesn’t take him much longer to finally finish; he grabs you by your hips, raising you slightly before abruptly pushing you down on his cock, making sure that he’s nestled as deeply in you as he can be when he finally cums. He’s breathing a bit harder as he comes down, and then he’s grabbing you by your hair, making you stare at him. 

His cheeks are flushed, there’s some slight sweat building up on his forehead, his shirt is wrinkled. He’s never looked better. You’ve never felt better. 

Or, more accurately, never felt fuller. 

“Shouto, did you c…” You can’t even finish the sentence. Did you cum inside? Not like you have to; you know the answer. Some of it is dripping out of you. 

All he does is give you that small smile, the one that he rarely lets anyone see, and starts up the car. 

If he doesn’t want to talk now, there’s no way you can get him to answer properly. You try to remove yourself from his lap and make your ungraceful, disgusting journey to the passenger seat, but Shouto places a firm hand on your waist, forcing you back down.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Shouto, you can’t possibly drive while I’m sitting here on your lap.”

“I bought a Tesla for a reason.” 

Right. Because everything Shouto does has a reason for it.

You think about this on the drive back to his penthouse, a little bit of fear building up in your lower belly. Shouto does everything for a reason, and what’s the reason for any man cumming inside?

[wonderlandwalker]

Cherished Moments | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick is trying to get you to relax and, well, it works maybe a bit too much.

Content Warnings/Tags: Mostly fluff, small injury, lovesick Finnick, grumpy!reader x sunshine!Finnick, insinuations of violence, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.2k

Requested by Anon: I love your writing!!! What do you think a grumpy reader × sunshine finnick would be like? Love the back cat gf golden retriever bf trope haha and I feel like finnick would be obsessed with someone who was mean to everyone BUT him! Feel free to ignore if you don't feel inspired, I'll read everything you write anyway!!

A/N: Can someone pls let me know if they actually manage to find the request after I've posted them I have no clue if these are getting through. Ngl this one was a struggle for me but once I found the right idea it came pouring out. Do they even have darts in the Hunger Games universe? Well, they do now. Keep sending me requests I genuinely love doing them!!

“Come on, I know you can do it! I’ve seen you throw knives, this is pretty much the same thing, only smaller.” Finnick was trying to encourage you, but you weren’t easy to win over. 

“I’m telling you, I can’t. This is just different. The darts are so much smaller and lighter, it throws me off balance.” You were at a party in District 13, well, calling it a party would be generous. 

“Just try. I’ll help you come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He couldn't hide his smile at your antics, but he also knew if anyone was able to convince you, it was him.

“Fine, but if something goes wrong it's on you.” You looked him in the eyes, and could see a spark of light inside them, and you wouldn't admit it, not with all the other people in the room, but it warmed your heart a little.

“It’ll be fine, what’s the worst that could happen” He asked you, and you almost scoffed at the question.

“I could hit someone, and then everyone will hate me even more than they already do”

“They don't hate you, they just don't know you the way I do.” Whenever someone would ask him what he saw in you, he would always be dumbfounded. Sure, you had a hard exterior, but when someone has gone through as much in their life as you did, were you really to blame? No, he didn't understand the question, because, to him, you were perfect. Whether you were sulking at breakfast for having to leave the bed or smiling at him because they were serving your favourite dish for dinner, he would take anything you gave him. 

“Are you telling me that you, the victor of the 70th Hunger Games, are afraid of hurting someone with a tiny dart?” He was challenging you, and it was working.

“I'm not afraid, I just don't want anything to go wrong.” The way your voice softened around him made his heart beat faster for you and sometimes, he swore you knew and were doing it on purpose.

“You won’t, just throw it straight into the board.”

Finnick is standing behind you, grinning like he’s just won some sort of lottery while he guides your arm up for you, you can feel his breath on your neck before he whispers “Come on love, do it for me.” You’ve never been able to deny him, to your own annoyance at times, so you do as he says.

The dart flies through the air, and it doesn't hit the board, but it comes relatively close. So you throw a second dart and it hits the board, but you don’t manage to score any points just yet. As you throw another one, it manages to hit the board, but only for a little while before it falls to the floor. You throw your hands up in defeat before saying “See, told you I couldn't do it.” But Finnick hasn't given up, in you, he would never give up.

“That’s nonsense, you just have to try again, be patient.” He walks over to collect your darts and hands them back to you. He steps behind you again, guiding you into the right position before speaking.

“Just close your eyes, imagine you’re throwing them at Snow.” It makes you laugh and he can feel your muscles relax. He would always feel so proud of himself when he made you laugh, he didn't mind that you don't do it often, it would only feel like so much more of an achievement.

You do as he says, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath right before you throw the dart, hitting it right in the bullseye. You throw another, hitting the bullseye again. But you miss the board with the next one when Finnick leaves a small kiss on your shoulder, and your breath hitches. You can feel his body moving from behind you, and focus to throw another dart. It’s only when you hear an exclamation of pain coming from right in front of you that you snap open your eyes, you would recognize it anywhere. In front of you was Finnick, standing right next to the board with one of his hands clutched in the other, and when you take a closer look, you can see the dart that is stuck in the back of Finnick's hand.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry are you okay.” He would never tell you this, but he doesn't even mind that it happened, seeing you being sweet on him so openly, it makes him forget anything even happened in the first place.

“I'm fine sweetheart.” there is a strain in his voice, and he knows you can hear it too from the way your brows furrow in regret. You knew he wasn't trying to be tough for you, no, you had moved past that years ago. he was trying to not make you worry, it was something he would always do no matter how much pain he was in. But you were worried, because in contrast to all those other times, this time it was your fault that he was hurt. It never phased you much when someone would get shot, it never phased you much as you heard the canons each night in the arena signalling another death, not in the way it phased other people, but this, this broke you.

“Finnick you are not fine, there is a fucking dart inside your hand and it's my fault.”

“Well, most people don’t throw a fourth dart sweetheart." He says, and he chuckles a little, but you don't hear it in your state of worry.

“I am so sorry I-” You were choking up over your guilt, and while he loved getting to see your raw emotions, this one he didn't enjoy.

“Hey, no, I'm sorry too, don't get yourself worked up over this. It's just a dart, I will be fine. Why don’t you go get me a first aid kit?” He really was fine, and he could have gotten it himself, but he knew how much you would get in your own head when you didn't have anything to do in these kinds of situations. 

Once you come back and help patch him up, he looks up at you and you catch his gaze. A smile crosses his face in a way he knows his cheeks are going to hurt.

“Why are you smiling” you ask, confused at his glee in a situation like this.

“Because I know you care about me. You don’t always show it, and you don’t have to, because moments like these I’ll cherish forever.” His eyes are sparkling as he looks into yours, he swears he could just stand here and look at you for the rest of his life. 

“Oh, would you shut up already” you tell him while swatting his hand away from your face and rolling your eyes.

“You can’t tell me to shut up, you threw a dart into my hand.” He’s still grinning like an idiot, and it's infecting you. One of the corners of your mouth lifts up, and it's subtle, but he catches it, how could he not with how intently he is watching you. You’re back to your old dynamic, but he loves it just as much.

[netherfeildren]

At the Restaurant

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this, and his eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.

-OR-

the Christmas situationship AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Modern AU; Christmas fic; Angst; Fluff; Miscommunication; Emotionally unavailable idiots; But also idiots in love; Toxic relaationships; Situationship; There is nothing well adjusted about any of this pls don’t come into this house if that’s what you’re looking for; Trigger warning for man with an avoidant attachment style; Condolences to all my fellow victims of The Situationship; Size Difference; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Oral Sex (F!Receiving); Frankly some pretty pathetic behavior; Girl stand UP; Fuckboy Din; Plan B and Delusion as a form of birth control; Pull and pray baby pull and pray; Possessive Behavior; Jealousy; Insecurity; Trigger warning for Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift references

A/N: Hello and welcome to my contribution to the holiday fic pool! This is not at all what I was planning as my holiday piece, but I woke up a few mornings ago and was just completely taken hold by this. Much love and thanks and gratitude and all the kisses in the world to my friend @f0rlornmyths for all the help on the idea and brainstorming and for the gorgeous edits she made for this little story. Mai baby, this is all for you, and I know it's not the Christmas gift I promised you, but I swear, one day that too will get written.

I’m wishing you all the happiest and most relaxing of holiday seasons. I think of you all constantly and wish you all the best always, and I hope you’re taking care of yourselves during this time ❣️🎄✨

Word Count: 8.2K

Read on AO3

He gets this sparkle in his eyes when the bar’s extra busy, cheeks flushed and curls damp with sweat and this shine that speaks; that tells of all the things he does that make a woman belong to him whenever he’s giving her his singular attention. Eyes that laugh and crinkle at the edges with happiness. Eyes that tell you how much he does or does not want you at that specific moment. And he’ll laugh and blind the room into seduction under the Christmas lights, and then he’ll turn, suddenly remembering you’re here for him, and look at you all serious-like, while you sip on your tequila soda, with two limes always because he knows that’s how you like it, and it’ll be a serious, cool look for just a second before it blooms into the best smile anyone’s surely ever had in all history, and you love him. 

It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this. You’ve never practiced restraint of this kind either. A restraint that suffocates and kills and could probably be taken as a form of self harm were you in a righter, more clear mind, but it’s the only thing you have left against him. Din. A control over yourself that falsely feeds you the illusion of power. You never call him. Never. Any interaction, any late night fuck, any time he comes over and comes inside you, it’s always, always because he calls you, he looks for you. You never beg, not with words at least, and you never text first and you never ask him if you can see him, and it’s the only way you tell yourself you maintain even a semblance of control. And at night, when you’re alone and it’s dark and you’ve only got the cat for some sad company, or you’re crying in bed because he hasn’t called, and you know he’s not at work and he’s obviously not at home, so he’s somewhere you don’t want him to be, that false sense of control that says you’re never the one reaching out, it’s always him coming around so surely that must mean something… it’s all you have at the end of it. 

He’s not your boyfriend. He never has been. And there’s always been that excuse you use to soothe yourself with of, well, we’ve never really talked about it, and he’s not really my boyfriend, so it doesn’t really matter. Does it? Doesn’t it? You’re sure you don’t know anymore. And you tell yourself, lie to yourself, comfort yourself, whatever it is your tired heart needs in that moment, because it truly is so tired, the push and pull is the most exhausting game in the world, that if he’s coming to you it’s because Din’s choosing you. Even if just for a night, even if just for now, even if tomorrow he’ll be with someone else, he chose you for tonight, and so surely that must mean something. It’s the worst thing you do to yourself, but it feels so good in the moment. You just can’t help yourself. 

“Another one?” He calls over his shoulder with a smile.

 You’d had a little bit of a… well, you don’t really know what to call it. A falling out, perhaps, because the two of you never have fights. You never fight, you never discuss the things the two of you should discuss, like feelings or anger or resentment or boundaries and wants and needs. Nothing. Nothing that indicates anything that might define what it is the two of you’ve been doing for two years with each other now. Fights are something couples do, and you two are not a couple. But up until three days ago, you’d not heard from him for two weeks. Two weeks of nothing, of hearing from your friends that they’d seen him out with his friends and other girls who you know probably mean nothing, even less than you do, but still. It’d made you insane. A little bit irrational, and so when you and your friends had gone out over the weekend, picked up a group of guys at the new bar you’d chosen for the night, since Din’s bar was off limits at the moment, and brought them back to your apartment at your roommate, Bo’s, insistence, well, you’d thought you’d give him a taste of his own medicine. After a slightly tipsy, teary eyed rant, explaining to your new friend for the night, a one Toro Calican, who had a very nice smile and very pretty eyes and not at all bad arms, all about your terrible situation with this man who you were not really in a relationship with, but who you have sex with, and only with him, regularly, unprotected, enthusiastically, but who is still not your boyfriend and not even anything close, he’d arranged himself very nice and cozy-looking in your bed with your twinkly lights sparkling in the background and your pink pig stuffy which Din loved to make fun of you for, and you’d taken a very tasteful, in your opinion, picture of him for your Instagram story. Again, a taste of his own medicine. 

Din had been at your front door forty five minutes later, angry. Angrier than you’d ever seen him before, and not at all trying to hide it. Pushing past you and into your apartment all tall and broad and wearing your favorite dark blue hoodie he knows you love, curls mused as if he’d been pulling his fingers through them in agitation. There’d been a sneaky, smarmy little devil inside of you doing a happy dance at that moment, and his eyes when he’d turned to glare at you after giving poor, Toro – casual, entirely unbothered, Toro with his big smile stretched across his handsome face as he’d looped an arm over Bo’s shoulders where he’d been sitting beside her on the couch – a look that said Din had half a mind to take him outside and wipe the floor with him. But your new friend had laughed him off, taking Din’s terribly cocky onceover, the sort he liked to set people down with, in stride. All arrogance and the sort of self assuredness only a man who knew what he was made of and how to take care of himself could possess. He was too hot for his, or your, own good. 

And when he’d turned and pushed you into your bedroom, a little tipsy, a lot desperate and pleased and wet, because yes, finally you were getting exactly what you wanted, exactly as you’d asked for it, and he’d flipped your skirt up and ripped your panties down and buried his face in your cunt from behind, all: this pussy’s mine, what the fuck was another dude doing in your bedroom? You’d been nothing but pleased giggles and hiccupy little moans as you’d come on his tongue just as he’d demanded of you. 

It was wrong. The two of you were wrong and maybe even bad for each other, but also, and this was only your own personal, fanciful discernment, addicted. A mutual addiction. The way he fucked you, hard and deep and possessive, like you belonged to him. Tugging you up by the hips and pulling you back onto his hard cock, the wet slap of your pussy dripping for him so that it surely echoed through the thin door of your shitty little apartment for the man who’d threatened what Din saw as rightfully his could hear exactly what was happening in here. You should have cared more about this ridiculous display of a pissing contest. You should have been bothered by it. You absolutely were not. And when he’d gone harder than stone, shoved deeper than you could comfortably take him so that you were coming around his cock one last time from the stretch and sting of it, and he’d filled you to leaking without even asking, you’d not even blinked at it, had been nothing but contented sighs.

It was all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Even worse, you’d never been on birth control. It made you sick, tired, moody, and the two of you worked around it… sometimes… kind of. Condoms when you remembered, usually ripped off mid fuck, pulling out… also sometimes. Never very responsible or dedicated to the practice of safe sex and level headedness, more focused on how fucking good it always felt when he was inside of you like this all bare and wet and hot and his. And if he fucked other girls, well, you tried not to think about that. Got tested, told yourself you were the only one he didn’t use protection with because you were special when they were not. And if there was, that last horribly misguided whisper that said, well, if he’s taking this risk with you, then obviously that means something too, right? Then so be it.

Again, like you’d said, bad for each other. 

But he always gave you so many reasons to be stupid, delusional, like the way he’d kissed you before he’d gone the morning after, while you were still sleepy and warm and a little sweaty from where you’d been pressed together so close through the night, wet and sticky between your legs from his come. He’d wrapped his arms around you and pressed you so, so close to his chest, nipples bare and tight against hard muscle and wispy hair. The musky sleep smell of him as he’d started at your shoulder, mouth slow and damp, kissed and nibbled his way up your collarbone, your throat, your jaw, settled at your ear to taste that soft place behind, pressed his tongue there to feel the echo of your pulse moving through your whole body, the flutter of his long lashes against your skin because he’s just that close. Your toes had curled and spasmed, little and cold, bracing against his hairy shins and big feet, hard cock nestled between the warmth of your thighs. And he always makes the best sounds, you know, deep and rumbly and all man. Familiar sounds that you’re able to replay again and again in your mind afterwards when he’s gone, sounds that make it easy for you to pretend he’s yours because you know them so well, and you want to keep him so bad it makes your stomach hurt. Gotta go get the kid, he’d said, by way of explanation for why he wasn’t pushing up into your come soaked cunt and having you one more time again, but he’d stayed and kissed you. And when he’d finally found his way to your mouth, sipping on you, tasting behind your teeth, along the wet of your tongue, that was all that really mattered anyway. 

Sometimes, he kisses you like he loves you, and it makes you hate him. 

He hadn’t called in the three days since then, but he’d been kind enough to DoorDash you a Plan B and a bag of your favorite Dove dark chocolate bites, and you want to hate him and maybe even run him over with you car, you really do, but then tonight, out of nowhere while you’d been at home telling yourself you weren’t going to cry, tired and sweaty from lying under your duvet for too long, fingers slippery between cunt and cotton, too many unsatisfying orgasms and a tear worthy film already chosen as your excuse for later, he’d sent a: come to the bar tonight, baby, I want to see you. And well, he’d come looking for you, right? He’d texted first. So really, this was all him wanting you and choosing you.

You need help, electroshock therapy, a lobotomy, anything. But you’d gotten your butt up and dressed, begged Bo to come out with you, and now here the two of you sit, good friend that she is, waiting for him to finally come over and say more than three stringed together words to you. Shaved, lotioned, perfumed, pathetic little ass sitting at the end of his bar in a too sticky, too uncomfortable stool waiting for him. Always waiting for him.

You shake your head no at him and his proffered next round. No you don’t want another fucking drink. What you want is his attention. 

And the worst part is, probably the worst, for there are so many bad parts to this, is that you don’t truly think he’s a terrible person, Din. He’s just so… he’s just– you don’t know. Sad, busy, exhausted, selfish, overwhelmed, so many things. But not bad, not actually a bad person. You’re sure of it. And it might look so differently from the outside, like you’re nothing, like he uses you, and sure, in ways, he does. You’re not so stupid or naive to not see this for what it is, because if there is one thing that is crystal clear here, it’s that you’ve always known what this is and what it is not. But you also see him. You also know him, as hard as he’s tried to keep you at arms length, to not let you see, to not let you in, you’ve weaseled your way inside anyways, or, better said, and something you don’t let yourself dwell on too much for the things it makes your stupid brain and heart feel, he has never been very good at not letting you see him. Because despite all the truths of how this thing between the two of you is, or is not, there is also something, as small as it may be, that is real here. 

So no, Din is not bad, or not all bad. And it’s easy to call them excuses, but you’re not so sure that’s the only thing they are, the ways in which you justify his behavior or yours. Because there is also context to him, and his life, and the things that drag his attention away from you when you so desperately need and want it, why you know he won’t commit to one single thing because he knows how easily lost a good thing can be. 

You take a pull from your straw, paper, and it’s already coming apart in wet flakes on your tongue because this dumb bar he works at pretends to be swanky, and paper straws are obviously a signifier that it’s not the cheap, shitty dump it actually is. Mean, but you’re in a bad mood tonight. Peli, the owner, had him string up multicolored lights and decorations everywhere for the holiday season, and it sort of looks like Santa threw up in here, but it’s also nice. Cozy or comfortable or welcoming, something happy and cheerful about the crowd surrounded by the sparkle of the holiday and loose from the heavily poured liquor. Or maybe it’s just that you know he put up the decorations. That he’d been good and patient and helpful as the older woman, eccentric and curly haired and a little stern and potty mouthed as she is, but always kind to him, had directed him as she pleased. Giving orders so that the bar could look as lovely and warm and cheerful as it does now. He always looks at her with such care and warmth, and you alway see it, as much as he tries to hide it. 

He’d added a splash of sweet grenadine and a maraschino cherry into your drink tonight, and called it your slutty Shirley Temple, said you looked like you needed something sweet followed by one of those cocky little winks he thinks make him look hot, they do, but you tell him only make him look like an asshole. All of which you know is only his way of telling you, without actually telling you, that he’s going to be shoving his cock down your throat later tonight. Something sweet… yeah, sure. There’s nothing sweet about him. 

He always tells you so many things neither of you want the other to know with his eyes. The stupid things, the silly things, the real things, it doesn’t really matter. He can’t ever help it. 

The first time he’d told you about his parents, you’d thought: this is it, this is something real. The come down had been a singular type of devastating you don't think you’d recovered from to this day. They’d died in a home invasion, a robbery gone terribly, terribly wrong, when he’d been two months shy of eighteen; left him with too much responsibility and too much grief for a boy of seventeen to bear, to ever be able to grow into without growing a little bit skewed in the process. When he’d introduced you to his little brother, the first time, you’d been better prepared, better in control of yourself and your expectations. But still, still you’d let a small, small part of you let it mean something. Grogu, Greg, but they used to watch this cartoon together about this man, a warrior, a space cowboy of sorts, who finds a little green baby, more frog looking than baby looking, called Grogu and takes him in as his own, bringing him along on all his adventures through the big, wide galaxy. They’d always joked that Greg looked like the frog baby, and so, Grogu. 

The first time he’d asked you to come over, you’d forced yourself to not throw up as you’d seen the text come in, had to force away thoughts of this has to mean something, please, please, let this mean something more. And the kid had been asleep already anyways when he’d smuggled you inside, quick and quiet, locking the door to his bedroom behind you, messy and lived in and Din, Din, Din everywhere, pressed you into his rumpled mattress, and fucked you til you’d cried and bit your tongue until you’d tasted blood to keep in all the things you had inside to tell him. And in the morning, when he’d made you a cup of coffee and oh, isn’t he nice for that? The kid had stumbled out of his bedroom, dinosaur pj’s and sleep rumpled curls the same warm mahogany shade as his older brother’s turned pseudo father, and he’d had his waffles while you’d sat there between the two of them as Din’d clucked around making lunches, sipping from your mug trying as best you could to be a good girl and not whip around and scream at the man that this has to mean something more, please. 

The kid had eyed you skeptically, as if you’d had two heads, little fuzzy brow cocked high up towards his curl covered hairline while he chomped loudly on his waffles. More syrup than bread, but who were you to judge? 

“Are you Din’s girlfriend?”

And rather than drop dead on the spot or bear the devastation of hearing the refusal come out of his older brother’s mouth, the second you’d seen Din’s own eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, mouth falling open to probably tell him no, absolutely not, she’s nothing even close to being my girlfriend, you’d said as easy as you could manage, “No, we’re just friends.” Even added in a fake, tepid smile as you’d said the words. And now, as time’s passed since then, when you think back on the memory, you tell yourself that you’d imagined the frown and scowl that’d pulled Din’s face down into something that looked a little like annoyance or anger or confusion. He’d never done anything to make you think you were anything otherwise, and so what good did it do to dwell on the maybe false memory of his look of disappointment at your words? None at all, surely. 

But you’re pretty sure you’re the only girl that’s ever been let into their space like that.

He’s at the other end of the bar now, engrossed in a conversation with someone who’s too sparkly and too pretty and too blonde to be anything but trouble for you. His tall, deceptively lanky form that you know beneath the dark baggy, long sleeved tee he’s wearing is strong and muscled and warm as a furnace, curved over the lip of the bar to lean further towards her. They’ve been talking for about five minutes now, yes, you’ve been counting, and your heart is doing that horrible thing it does where it hurts so bad it feels like it’s ripping in half all on its own. You want to look away, especially as you watch the long, gorgeous form of his hand, big, strong hands that you know exactly what they feel like wrapped around your throat, clutching your breasts, lift slowly towards the glowing Christmas lights necklace the girl’s got hanging around her neck, the cheery red and green lights nestled deep in her cleavage. He plucks at the necklace, giving it a little tug and says something to her that has her throwing her head back, and she sparkles, she really does, with those sort of laughs that tinkle like bells or something equally fucking ridiculous.

“We should just go, babe,” Bo says from beside you, glaring down at him so intensely you’re shocked he hasn’t keeled over dead at this point. 

“Just a little bit longer, Bo, please.” 

“God, I can’t watch this shit anymore.” She pushes up and out of her stool with a roll of her eyes, but passes a loving hand down the back of your hair as she goes. “I’m gonna go try and pick up that red head sitting in the back. She’s been eyeing me all night,” she smirks at you. 

“You cannot date another ginger. That is too much ginger for one household.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re in love with the devil, I can do whatever I want. And I can’t watch him anymore, I don’t have the stomach for it.”

You try and protest as she walks away from you, tell her that you’re not in love with him, that he’s not the devil, that you don’t have the stomach for it either, but she’s gone before you can muster your lies. When you turn back towards the bar he’s abandoned his Christmas lights blonde and is pouring drinks for a group of frat guys, checking I.D.s and making easy, charming conversation. He’s strange in that way, quiet and reserved by nature, which you know now because you know him, but he puts on a face in here, in Peli’s bar in front of the customers and the pretty girls and the people expecting him to perform for them, making nice and pleasant. It’s just one more thing that feeds your delusion, the fact that you see his smile for what it is, the too handsome, too shiny version you know isn’t the real one. 

You know that despite the fact that Bo loves you, she also thinks you’re a little sad, a lot weak, when it comes to him. Maybe even, and you know she’d never say this because she’s a good and loving friend, but maybe even a little pathetic or desperate. And maybe you are, or definitely, you don’t really care about the details of it at this point, but maybe there’s also something about him that’s slightly desperate too. Desperate for love or attention or companionship. Maybe that’s why he always feels the need to search for it in so many different places. Maybe he wants it so bad he’s scared of it. Or maybe he’s just easy. Maybe he’s just a whore. 

You don’t know if the why’s of it all really matter anymore. 

He serves the group their shots and beers, all of them clinking their glasses together loudly, hooting and wishing each other a Merry Christmas, and you want to snap that it’s not Christmas yet, it’s still the twenty third, it’s a special day that should be remembered, but you turn away. Try to swallow the heat in your face and throat, take deep breaths. Bo’s right, the two of you should go, but when you turn to search for her, she’s deep in conversation with the red head, gorgeous, strong and tall and just her type. Their two heads huddled closely together beneath the red lights that turn their hair both brighter shades of auburn. And you know you can’t interrupt. At least one of you should have a good night tonight. But when you turn back around, ready to join the frat bros in on their shots, he’s there. 

You swivel in your stool, catching yourself on the lip of the bar, digging your nails into the wood grain until it hurts, staring at him in silence. 

“What?” he asks with that slightly provoking smile he forces on you when he knows you’re bothered and refuse to open your stubborn mouth and just speak up. 

“Nothing.” Stubborn, sullen. Terrible.

He hums, laughter dancing in his eyes that pisses you off. He knows you’re bothered, knows you won’t say anything about it either. “Want another?”

“Sure.” You might as well get drunk if you’re going to have to watch him be a jackass all night long. 

He starts to move about, gathering the things for your cocktail. “You like the grenadine I added?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

He looks at you with a half smile and a cocked brow as he measures the shot. He never makes your drinks as heavy handed as the others, says you’re a bad drunk. Whatever. “Yeah? You like the Christmas decorations?”

“They’re nice.” He hums again at your sullen tone. And you want to be nicer, happier, peppier, whatever it is that would be enough to make this all right and better between the two of you, inside of you, but you just can’t. You can’t force yourself into a shape that’s okay with being without him, and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend it’s something you’re capable of. 

He adds your two limes and tops the drink off with a Santa printed mini umbrella Peli had gotten an order of in bulk, pushing the glass into your hand. He braces his hands against the bar edge, watching you as you bring the drink up to taste, peering over the edge to keep your eyes on him. The lights twinkle over head, washing him in a glow of greens and reds and warmth, and his eyes do that terrible sparkle you hate in return. 

Sometimes you think he likes it when you’re pissy. Turns him on or something which sickly, stupidly, in turn, riles you up, knowing he’s turned on by your anger. 

You take a long pull of the fizzy, mildly sweet drink, licking your lips of the tang and bubbles when you pull it away, and watch as his eyes go a little hazy, glassed over as he watches the wet of your tongue peek out to lick up the drops of sweet liquor. You watch a swallow pass through the strong column of his throat, and his gaze is still on your mouth when he cocks his head at you. “C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes shifting to take in the crowd, the customers and the status of their drinks before he’s tugging at your hand over the bar, drawing you out of your seat and along the length of it from the other side. 

“To where?” You whisper at him, nerves of excitement, of want, fluttering in your belly and throat all fizzy and sweet. He tips his chin at the cracked open door of the stock room, the warm glow from within peering out, and then back again once over at the crowd before you’re at the end of the bar, and he’s tugging you inside after him. You tip your chin over your shoulder just before he kicks the door shut behind you, taking in Peli’s knowing look and the laughing shake of her head, and then it’s just the two of you. Hungry and hurried as he’s pulling you into himself, big hands immediately cupping your ass to tug you up into him with a cracked groan. “Want to fucking kiss you so bad,” he licks into your mouth, tasting like the coffee he drinks too much of and the cinnamon gum you know he’s always chewing. 

“Din–” and you’re about to protest, say that everyone’ll have seen the two of you come in here, Peli, the blonde Christmas light girl, that the whole bar is going to think he brought you in here for a quick fuck, but you and he both know you don’t really care if anyone thinks that. That probably, if you’re really honest, you’d be glad for everyone to think you’re his that way. So you kiss him back. Arms looping around his neck to hang off of him, fingers twining in the thick curls at the nape of his neck, the hair there so silky smooth, cool at the ends but warm and damp at the roots. And this is what you were talking about, when he kisses you like he loves you which makes you hate him. All tongue and teeth and desperation. His mouth sliding against yours, spit slick and heat heavy. Big hands kneading at your ass, clutching at the short skirt of your dress, pulling it up so he can shove his palm between the nylon of your tights and your warm skin and cup you over the wet mound of your cunt. 

“Fucking warm and soft for me, baby.” He kisses his way down your neck, licking at your cleavage, tugging at your ear. “You smell so good,” and he squeezes you against himself, dragging his palm back and forth over your pussy as best as the constricting tights let him. “I can’t wait to fuck you later.”

“Me either, Din,” you say because there’s nothing else to say besides, I love you. Please, love me back. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back into a little arc hooked over his arm, something frenzied and a little sloppy about the way he kisses you like he wants you so much he can’t control himself. And when the two of you stumble out a few minutes later, hair tousled and flushed with heat, the shine of your lipgloss transferred onto his own lips and those sparkly eyes of his cranked up to blinding so that the whole bar can see what it is the two of you have been up to in the stock room, there’s nothing but sweet, fizzy pleasure suffusing your belly. Even if it isn’t real, everyone else thinks it is, maybe for tonight that can be enough. 

-

“The tree’s really cute,” you say as he helps you out of your coat, unwrapping the scarf from around your neck, round and round until he lets it slither from his hand onto the messy floor of his bedroom. 

“Yeah, well, G wanted a real one so… my ass went out and got him a real one.” 

You reach up to card your fingers through the floppy curls falling over his forehead, pushing them back to twist in your fingers and pull his head down towards yours. “Good brother,” you murmur against his mouth. You want to ask him if he remembers what tonight is; wanted to ask him all night but kept your mouth shut for fear of that utterly vacant look in his eyes when he’d have no idea what you were talking about. 

He settles into your kiss, knees bent to come down to your level, sighing deep and long as he licks at you slowly, sucks on your bottom lips, a gentle nip. “Looked so pretty for me tonight,” he says, and he’s such a good kisser, and all you can say is a breathless thank you, trying to swallow the immediate lump in your throat back down because the only other thing to say would be you’re right, it’s all for you, or I hate it when you say these things to me, I hate it when you’re nice to me and then turn around and act like I’m a stranger, like I’ve never meant anything to you at all. You press up higher, insistent, on your tiptoes, trying to get closer, more of him. He runs his hands up the length of your spine, one arm banding around your waist, the other coming up to twist in your hair, tugging your head back sharply and pulling your mouth from his. 

“What do you want, sweet girl?”

And what a cruel, terrible question. You, is what you should say. Ruin the moment or the false magic, glass shattered on the white cloth. And so, “Fuck me,” is all you say instead because that’s all this is anyway. He peers down at you, fathomless look on his face, no more bright sparkle in his eyes, something more like an ember. You think you like this look better, it’s more for you, and there's something satisfying about that. 

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

He pulls your clothes from you slowly, and he can be so tender sometimes, slow and precise in the things he does, the way he moves. Sometimes he fucks you hard and fast and sloppy. But not always. Other times he does it in a way that is much, much worse. Slow and deep and intentional. He lays you out across his messy bed and spreads you open for himself. Starts at your feet, kissing the soles and the creases and marks over the arches and around your ankles from your tights and boots. Up the slope of your calf, teeth dragging sharply, a little too hard over the muscle. He kisses the backs of your knees, a place only he has ever thought to kiss, and you won’t cry, but you’d like to. His tongue along the soft of your thighs, stubble chafing and tickling, and when he finally gets to your cunt, soaking wet, glossy with your slick for him, his tongue drags up your slit slow and teasing one second, deep, fucking inside of you the next. He makes you come on his face twice before he even thinks of being nice and letting up. Sucking on your clit, taking each soft lip gentle, gentle between the edge of his teeth and tugging so soft you almost don’t feel it. He licks and licks and slurps up your wet, and you know he enjoys this because of his own sounds. When he rips his t-shirt over his head because he’s steaming with sweat and want, the zip of his jeans ringing so that he can get his fist around his cock and jack himself while he licks up the splash of your second orgasm. 

He kisses you everywhere when he’s had his fill, twists and turns you this way and that, groping and kneading and taking every inch of you in so that no spot of skin is left uninspected or untasted. Pulls you up and under his arm so he can peer down at you from behind, lemme look at that little asshole now, he says all nasty the way he gets sometimes, and spreads your cheeks apart. You brace yourself against the column of his throat and hold on to the bulge of his bicep and try and breathe through your mouth and pray for control and temperance and the will to not spill all your truths to him. Difficult, when he manhandles you like this, when he pets and licks and kisses you all over and tells you how pretty all your holes are for him. 

His cock is so hard when he finally settles on his knees between your spread thighs, on your back again so that you can see his pulse in the tiny, subtle beat of his erection as it stands up, curving towards his flat belly. No condom, and you want to say thank you for letting you feel him like this. 

He pushes your knees wide and grips his cock, twisting his fist around the sticky glossed head, flushed red almost purple. You love it when he’s this hard, when you know it’s all for you, when you know you’re the only one in this moment that can fix it for him. 

“Get it wet for me,” he nods his head at your slick cunt, parted and bared to him just like he likes. You dip your fingers into the well of wetness, play in it, watch the shiny string of slick stretch between your pussy and fingers, and no one makes you as wet or as desperate as he does, and like he can read your mind he tells you, no one makes me as hard as you do, and you do not tell him that that isn’t something you want to hear, that that isn’t something that makes you feel good. The reminder that there are others. 

You wrap your slippery fingers around his cock, coating him in yourself and when you pull him towards you, notching him at the mouth of your cunt, and finally – finally, I’ve been waiting for this all night, and you can’t even tell who says it – it’s so fucking good that all the rest of it is worth it for this singular feeling right here. 

He pushes in, in, in, heavy balls pressed against the wet curve of your bottom, and you’re so soaked it’s slid down between your ass, marked his sheets with you, swings his hips back all smooth and wet and shoves back inside. His mouth is at your tits, folded over you, caging you in, biting and sucking on bare, tight nipples he tells you belong to him, cunt he fucks hard and deep he tells you also belongs to him.

He pulls an ankle up over his shoulder, changes the angle and drills into you hard and fast, other knee hooked over his elbow so you’re pressed and folded and presented to him just how he likes and needs, and he makes you say his name over and over, tells you exactly how he wants you to come on his cock just for him. His pelvis bumps your clit on every push forward, too thick cock wedged inside your cunt so that you’re stretched around him and no matter how many times you do this, it always hurts just a little. Like everything else the two of you do together. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans. “You take it so fucking good. Don’t come yet– don’t come. With me– wait for me. I want it together.” And you do cry at that, when he changes the angle once more and shoves in hard against your g-spot, the fat tip of his cock punching against it over and over so that there’s heat pooling at the base of your spine, stars flashing behind your closed lids, your breasts going hot and heavy and tight, stomach clenching with the effort to stave off your orgasm and do as he asks. He breathes into your mouth, and it’s all hot and damp skin and your sweaty limbs sliding against each other, open mouth to open mouth. 

“Now,” he says, pulls you onto him deeper with a tight grip on your ass, long fingers wrapped over the curve so that he can feel the wet, stretched place where he takes you, makes you his. “Take the whole fucking thing,” he whispers against your lips, and as your cunt goes tight as a knot, painful in that way that only he can make it, that’s so good, that way that always keeps you coming back for more, you finally start to cry real tears. Not just from his cock but from the whole of him, from everything he does to you. Your heart beats fast, fast, fast, and you count the days in the month til your period, the little game you like to play with yourself when the two of you are bad like this, and then decide you don’t really give a fuck as he starts to fill you with the heat of his come.

He stays inside of you for too long after the last throb of his cock. Rubbing his lips all over your neck and shoulders and tits, tasting you and giving you too much time to memorize the pattern and cadence of his breathing. And when he pulls out and pulls back to look at the slick, puffy sight of your cunt full of his come, he bends to lick you clean like he always does. Gives you one more orgasm, the last nail in the coffin or your heart. 

Sated and spent, you glance at the clock, and it’s officially Christmas Eve. You know he goes all out for Grogu, milk and cookies for Santa, stockings and gifts, the works. He is an exceptionally good brother, all a child could need in a father figure, and there had never really been any chance of you doing anything else besides loving him. 

When you pull the gift from your bag, heart in your throat and halfway to regret but more resolve than you’ve ever had in his presence, you tell yourself that if this brings on the end of everything, that you’ll find a way to be okay with it. If you’ve gone too far, done too much, you’ll accept it, count your losses, and what great losses they’ll surely be, but you’ll move on as best you can. 

You’d picked some pretty, baby blue paper with little red robins on it, a soft gold ribbon tied around the package. The sight of it makes you want to cry. You’d tried so hard, you really had. 

He’s quiet when you put it into his hands, staring down at it like it’ll reach out and bite his head off if he blinks even once. Swallowing several times before he says, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know. It’s– it’s for the both of you, kind of.” Him and his little brother.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“No– that’s okay. I know. You didn’t have to.” Your voice comes out all breathless and full of nerves. You should’ve put your clothes on before you did this, made for a quicker, easier get away if necessary. 

He pulls the wrapping apart slowly, gently untying your ribbon, long fingers carefully picking at the little pieces of tape at each end so that he doesn’t tear the paper and disturb the robins. 

“Where did you get this?” He says when he’s finally unwrapped it, his voice telling you instantly that you’ve made a terrible mistake. 

“It– it was in your drawer. I–”

“You went through my stuff?” He says, eyes snapping up to yours, finally looking away from the photograph you’d copied and framed for him. A picture of him and Grogu and his parents. Grogu, a baby, Din, a boy of maybe eight, gap toothed, cheesy grin and messy curls between his smiling parents. They looked, very much, like a deliriously happy family, and you’d thought it such a shame it was stuffed in his sock drawer when you’d found it, left to be forgotten. You’d only wanted to do something nice for him. 

“N–no. I mean… not intentionally. I was looking for my extra clothes – the ones you told me to leave here – and I–” your lashes flutter, overwhelmed. He suddenly looks so angry. “I saw it in your drawer. I didn’t mean– I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I–” You don’t know what to say. All of your falsely held control in tatters at your feet and tears in your eyes as you take in the horrible look on his face. Shocked, angry, hurt, but his gaze leaves the photograph again, shifts back to your face at the crack in your voice. 

He presses forward, as if to reach for you, realizing you’re about to cry. “It’s fine.” I’m sorry, Din, you murmur again. “It’s just–” He shakes his head, a frustrated noise in his throat, his voice all graveled and cracked like yours. He seems so much like a boy in this moment. A child confronted by a past he was too young to lose when he did, forced into the shape of a man too soon. “You know that this–we–” He motions between the two of you.

“Yes. I do,” you cut him off quickly. Assuming what he’s going to cut down here between the two of you before he gets the words out. He doesn’t need to say it, not out loud. He doesn’t need to be that cruel. The strength it takes the both of you to bite your tongues in that moment, as you take each other in, swells to a near painful pressure, and there is something so sick here between the two of you. His eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him. 

“Thank you,” he finally says quietly, and you can’t answer, looking away out at the dark night through his murky paneled window. It looks like it’s about to snow, all the ingredients for a perfect Christmas at play. The room is so warm and his bed is so comfortable, and you feel so full of fragile and soft things inside. “You’re going to see your family tomorrow?” He still has the picture frame in his hands, fingers smoothing methodically over the edges, thumb swiping gently over the happy faces inside. 

You clear your throat, “Yeah, tonight. I’m going to my parents house, spending the night there.” And it’s on the tip of your tongue to invite the both of them to come too. You know your parents would love to have them, you would love to have them there, him, but the words stick in your throat with the fear of his rejection, and the two of you fizzle awkwardly into a heavy silence. 

You look out at the window again, too much of a coward to look into those bright eyes, but you can feel his gaze on you, singing the side of your face, and suddenly you feel him scoot over towards you. Deep sigh, dragging the duvet with him, wrapped around his bare shoulders all messy hair and flushed cheeks still steaming from your sex. No one should look like he does. No one. It’s the most unfair thing that’s ever happened to you in your whole life. He grips you around the bend of your bare knee, pulls you halfway into his lap, and your eyes are still fixated out on the night, the dark much safer than anything that lives inside this room.

“You remember when we met?” He says. The tears are back. “It was tonight.” Two years ago.

You tip your chin at the window. “At the restaurant…”

“...Down on eighty seventh street. Two years ago.”

“Yes.” You finally look at him. “I remember,” you whisper. Your mouth feels so dry, your heart so flinty.  

“The place had all those string lights put up, and we sat at that table outside in the back behind that group having their Christmas work party. You remember?” Of course you do. You only can't believe he remembers. He’d been wearing an olive green half zip sweater, and he’d smelled of laundry detergent and whiskey and cinnamon gum when he’d kissed you for the first time. 

“I had the best old fashioned I’ve ever had at that place. We should go back. And it was so cold, you remember? You never stopped shivering.”

“Yes, Din. I remember.”

“That was a good night.”

“Sure it was,” and it comes out with a bite you can’t help, for so many reasons you can and cannot explain. 

He gives one of those non committal hums he loves to provoke you with, that little glint back in his eyes. “Sure it was? What?”

“Nothing.”

“Is there something you wanna talk about?” The white elephant in the room, come to ruin everything, shatter all the glass, disturb the dust in your hair and break your heart. 

He tips your head back by your chin, two fingers holding you there, never letting you go. You shake your head at him caught up in his grasp like that. “No. I don’t want to talk about anything.”

And he gives you the strangest look, and for one second you wonder suddenly if that look you’ve always taken as provoking is not so much teasing, but more pleading, more knowing. “No…” he says, chews on his thoughts, strong, scruffy jaw with the heart shaped patch moving side to side. “I know you don’t,” and leans forward to press one single soft, chaste kiss to your open mouth. “You know what you are?” He says then, and the look is now entirely unknowable, confusing. 

Your eyes flick back to the window. “What?” Back to him again, breathless. 

“You’re my girl.” And out of the corner of your eye, you can see that there, finally, is the Christmas snow.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 13

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

Johanna thinks men are stupid and she doesn’t respect them (pls tell me someone gets this reference)

Content Warnings - your fave is an idiot (for now)

District 13 is lonely. They still won’t let you have any visitors and haven’t quite determined if you are safe yet. Their constant dismissal of your words reminds you of why you went mute all those years ago.

“Please,” you beg one of the doctors. “What do I have to do to prove I’m not a danger? You released Annie a week ago.”

“Miss Y/L/N I am not approved to clear you. That decision is made elsewhere,” the doctor responds.

“Then let me speak to whoever’s in charge!” you demand. “There has to be some way for me to show you all that I’m harmless.”

Ten minutes later you are sitting in front of a lady named President Coin. Your hands and feet are still cuffed but they gave you a jumpsuit to wear instead of your hospital gown. They wheeled you over here in a wheelchair despite your constant reminders that you could walk just fine.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Coin states. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to be released from the hospital,” you firmly state. “I’m of no danger to anyone here.”

“I’m afraid we cannot do that,” Coin replies.

“Why?” you ask.

“It was risky enough to bring you to thirteen,” Coin explains. “We can’t have someone as rogue as you wandering amongst the general population. It’s too dangerous.”

“How many times do I have to explain to you that I’m no longer a danger to anyone?” you practically shout. “They didn’t hurt me in the capital. They gave me some treatment that made me better. I’m not feral anymore.”

“And how am I supposed to believe that?” Coin asks.

“I didn’t talk to anyone for five years besides Finnick,” you snort. “You think I’d be talking to you if I wasn’t healed?”

“That is a fair point,” she sighed. “Maybe we could come to a compromise. I won’t permit your release yet but I will allow you to have pre-approved visitors on the condition that a soldier can monitor the visits and administer sedative if necessary. We can revisit this arrangement in two weeks and adjust based on results.”

“Fine,” you huff. “I just want to see Finnick.”

An hour later, Finnick comes to visit. You reach out to pull him onto the bed with you but he sticks to the edge of the room, sitting down in a chair in the opposite corner.

“Finn,” you whine. “Come here.”

“They told me I need to stay five feet away,” he states. “for my own safety.”

“Well that sounds a lot like a rule you ignored for the past five years,” you shrug. He just shakes his head in response.

“I can’t,” he states. “Not until I know you aren’t going to hurt me.”

You look at him dumbfounded. He thinks you would hurt him?

“You really think I’m going to hurt you?” you ask him.

“I,” he stutters. “I don’t know.”

“They fixed me,” you explain. “I can talk to everyone now. No more violent outbursts or breakdowns.”

He just shakes his head and puts his hands on his temples.

“If you’re just going to treat me like a feral animal, then leave,” you state, causing him to look up at you. What hurts the most is the fact that he actually does get up and leave.

He doesn’t trust you.

Three days later, Johanna comes to see you. Finnick hasn’t come back since you told him to leave so you’ve been all alone in your room.

“Hey Fiesty,” she mutters as she sits down on your bed. “What are you up to nowadays?”

“Nothing much,” you shrug. “I just got moved from one prison to another.” This answer gets a small laugh out of Johanna.

“Glad to see you’re talking again,” she states. “When are they letting you out?”

“They aren’t,” you respond.

“Oh come on,” she groans. “You’re harmless. Don’t tell me Finnick hasn’t tried convincing Coin to release you.”

“He hasn’t,” you reply, shaking your head. “He doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’m going to hurt him like how Peeta hurt Katniss.”

“Ugh. Men are so stupid,” Johanna groans. “I’ll talk some sense into him when he visits me this afternoon.”

“He visits you?” you ask. “Why doesn’t he visit me?”

“Because he’s stupid,” Johanna snorts. “Don’t worry. I’ll go fix your relationship.”

“It’s not a relationship!” you exclaim as she leaves your room.

“Shut up Fiesty!” she yells as she finally exits.

“Hey idiot,” Johanna states as Finnick enters her room. He looks like he didn’t sleep again.

“What did I do this time?” he groans.

“You’ve been avoiding Fiesty,” she replies. “She’s locked up in a room all by herself and I’m the only one who has visited her in days.”

“I can’t see her,” he responds, fiddling with the rope in his hands. “It isn’t safe.”

“Stop being an idiot,” Johanna states, causing Finnick to look up at her. “I don’t know exactly what her treatment entailed but it definitely wasn’t the same as mine or Peeta’s. She never screamed. She didn’t have a single cut or bruise on her body when they rescued her. They even polished the bite mark off her wrist. If they had done anything to her, I think someone would have noticed by now.”

“You said before that her room was near Peeta’s,” Finnick comments. “Did he see or hear anything?”

“Well I’m not allowed to see him so I haven’t been able to ask,” Johanna shrugs. “One of the soldiers, the one who is supposedly Katniss’ cousin, told me that Fiesty made a comment about Peeta being dangerous when she was brought in but he didn’t think much about it till he attacked Katniss. If she was also dangerous, I don’t think she would have tried to warn anyone.”

“I don’t know…” Finnick sighs.

“Look,” Johanna states firmly. “We will go visit her together, first thing tomorrow, and I will show you that she’s not dangerous.“

“Fine,” Finnick relents.

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[archermind]

sickness and soup

Spencer Reid x f!Reader

Description: You have called Hotch and told him you are unwell, making you unable to come into work today. Soon after you ended the call, there was a knock at your front door… to your surprise it was Spencer. Spencer was tasked by Hotch with the role of making sure you get better.

Content: fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

Author Note: this is my first time having a go at doing this. If anyone has any suggestions or feedback, feel free to offer it to me. (pls i beg lol) i hope you enjoy <3

Working in the BAU can be pretty intense. Some of the main things I find difficult about my job are cases involving children, when the unsub is a sick and twisted psychopath and the worst of them all… calling my boss when I feel sick. I will be honest there is no easy way to call Aaron Hotchner and tell him you can’t make it to work. I would drag myself limbless and bloody into Quantico just to avoid having to tell Hotch “I can't make it in today, sorry!” 

After the long awkward phone call of having to explain to Hotch why I will be missing the day off work, I sat pondering if I was just a hypochondriac or better yet a baby to the familiar enemy of every woman, my period. I had been up through the night, hurling acidic bile up into the toilet bowl from the pain of womanhood tearing up my insides. Periods are a bitch. 

My phone pinged from the living room as I was brushing my teeth for what felt like the hundredth time. My feet plodded from the bathroom through to the living room. I smiled as I saw the notification on my phone. ‘Garcia<3’. I opened the message to be met by a photo of her eating soup. ‘Missing you girl!’. I smiled as I responded with my own photo of me sad pouting and sent her a message of ‘i wish i was there :(‘. 

I threw my phone onto the couch making my way to my room. I sighed as I approached the huge pile of recently washed laundry which was dumped on my designated, ‘I'm too lazy to put these away so I will just dump them here’ chair. I rummaged through the pile pulling out any oversized shirt and shorts I could find. Today has not gone how i anticipated, all i wanted was to miraculously be rid of pain and be sat at the round table hearing of the next kidnap, dismembering and murder. I groaned as I attempted to atleast make my bed but was met with a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. I gave up, throwing myself onto the bed like a child throwing a tantrum. 

Light knocks woke me from a deep sleep that I had no recollection of falling into. I quickly jumped up and made my way to my front door. I looked like a mess so when I opened my door to see Spencer Reid… if I didn't already feel like curling up in a ball and dying, I do now. Ever since joining the BAU i couldn’t help not develop a minor school girl like crush on him that only Penelope knows about. 

“Uh… Spencer.. Why are you here?” I questioned him, trying to hide my shameful appearance behind the door. I attempted a smile despite the shock I was in.

“Hotch told me i had to come check up on you but before i left Garcia told me to trust her and that this would make you feel… in her words ‘a hundred times better’” Spencer gave a warm smile as he forced a tub of soup towards me.

“Well it looks like there is enough for two. Would you like to maybe come and have some?” I asked him nervously as I shifted on my feet. 

He nodded as I opened the door wider to allow him to enter. I trailed behind him as he made his way to my living room sofa. I anxiously waited for him to say something to break the silence. It was unusual for Spencer to stay silent for this long. For as long as I have known Reid, it seemed he always had something on his mind that he was ready to ramble on about. 

“Erm.. you will have to mind the state of my apartment” I coughed as my mouth went dry from nerves, “i never really have guests and i haven't had a great morni-” i suddenly was cut off by Spencer as he started to ramble like i expected.

“Did you know that it only takes one droplet of contaminated air to catch an illness?” Reid cleared his throat before carrying on, “and i will be honest with you Y/N… i am not entirely sure why Hotch sent me because he knows i don't like germs”, i watched as he fidgeted with the buckles on his satchel bag. 

My mouth formed an ‘o’ as I realized Hotch didn’t tell him why I was actually not at work today. I started laughing, causing Spencer to avert his eyes to stare at me. Internally I felt bad but I couldn't help but find the poor boy sitting worried on my sofa humorous for his own unknowing. 

“Y/N, i’m being serious. It is not funny. Did you know most serious diseases are caused by airborne illnesses!” Spencer blurted out upset and confused.

“Spence… I'm not contagious." I started, as he gave me a confused look “i am ill from having really bad period pains” I announced as I hung my head in shame having to tell Spencer of all people that currently I am menstruating. Even though it is a natural human thing and I can't control it. 

To my surprise, Spencer stood up and walked towards me engulfing me in a hug. I found it weirdly unexpected. I half anticipated Spencer to run out the door and for the hills at the thought of me… bleeding. However, I found myself comforted by the warm hug. I was still so confused.

“I apologize Y/N if i made you feel horrible by technically categorizing you as contagious and disease-ridden” Spencer started chuckling as his chin rested atop of my head. I smiled at his apology. Although he never made me feel insulted, it was sweet to know he cared about my feelings enough to apologize if there was a misunderstanding. 

I walked into my bathroom, the room was dark but drowned in ambient orange candle lighting. The bath was full of bubbles and the steam from the hot water engulfed the room, inviting me in. Spencer had done all of this while I was finishing my leek and mushroom soup. Although it sounded disgusting, I found myself texting Penelope begging her for the recipe. The response was almost better than the soup ‘a chef never spills her secrets but for you my lovely… ofcourse’ i hummed gleefully as I placed the phone on the counter of my bathroom sink. I tore every item of clothing off and made my way to the calming bath. I settled myself within the bubbles as i leant back to rest my head and close my eyes. It was relaxing and just what I had needed. 

Time passed delicately, but soon enough the water lost its comforting warmth and my fingers' skin was being over-dramatic, wrinkling like I had been within the water for eighty years. As I stepped out of the bathtub, a faint knock was sounded from the door. 

“Are you okay Y/N?” Spencer shouted from behind the locked door sounding worried. 

“Yeah, I'm fine Spence.” i responded smiling at his caring nature

“Just checking because on average about 10 people die each day from unintentional drowning in swimming pools and bathtubs” Spencer rambled and I smiled in adoration, while I got dressed, that it always goes back to statistics with him. 

I opened the door and smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I'm not about to become a statistic today”. 

Spencer returned the warm smile before guiding me back to my living room. I gasped at the sight. Spencer had set up a blanket and some pillows on the sofa. While also supplying me a heating pad, chips and chocolate. I turned to him and placed a hand over my open mouth. 

“Thank you spence!” I wrapped my arms around him tight and placed my head on his chest. I couldn't believe how thoughtful and understanding he had been. “This means alot you know.” I spoke muffled. 

“You deserve it Y/N, you are one of the most caring and thoughtful people I know at the BAU. i don't think you realize how much we appreciate you sometimes” Reid explained, “ or how much your company and thoughtfulness means to me Y/N”. 

I looked up to see Spencer turn a deep shade of crimson as he blushed. I smirked as I didn't know he even had it in him to hug a girl let alone compliment one. I had a small sense of happiness, boastfulness and achievement that that girl was me. The rest of the day, Spencer stayed to watch movies, talk and keep me company. That was until we both fell asleep… wrapped in a blanket… in each other's arms.

[girlboybug]

daddy issues

“you ask me what i'm thinkin' about, i tell you that i'm thinking about whatever you're thinking about."

or the one where your boyfriend reminds you that you’re all he could ever want.

*unedited*

what’s playing 🎧: daddy issues by the neighbourhood

pairing : dilf!farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)

word count : 3k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, age gap, dilf farleigh au mmm can you tell i’m ovulating, un protected sex, breeding kink, light impact play (he slaps reader a few times but nothing crazy), spitting, brief mentions of an exhibitionistic fantasy, size kink if you squint, cervix kissing yum, slight manhandling :3

TRIGGER WARNINGS : light slapping but nothing harsh and it’s all consensual, ermmm age gap with a power imbalance both professionally and morally but it’s all legal and reader is of age. if i’ve missed anything pls lmk.

a/n : hi guys! i know it's been a while since i've posted any work and i'm so sorry to anyone who has been wanting any updates. i missed you all, but life has been not the best. i won't share whats been going on, as tumblr is a safe space for me and id rather not bring my real life troubles onto here. i hope you guys enjoy this and forgive me for my absence <3

“you’re staring.” he says, not bothering to meet your eyes. you clear your throat, feeling flushed when you look away. “sorry.” you mumble, holding your legs close to your chest. farleigh sighs, shutting down his laptop and swiveling around in his chair before making his way towards you on the bed. your body lights up the second his proximity to you gets a little closer, and he sees it. 

it’s hard to not see it. 

he knows you try to hide it, to not seem like such an eager little girl, but your internal excitement when it comes to him is just so visibly external. it’s cute, it’s honest and it’s sweet, it’s one of the reasons why he likes you so much. 

you welcome him in with open arms, parting your legs for him to climb in between and nestle himself into. he picks you up from the mattress with ease, his large hands supporting you by the hips and the bottom of your ass to reposition you on top of him. 

he rests his hands on your thighs, watching as you rest yours on his broad chest, gently smoothing down the material of his white button up, the small embroidered dior catching your eye on the inside of his collar. 

“you’ve been quiet today.” he states, his warm hands bringing life to your skin beneath your silk slip. “because you told me to be,” you frown, slumping. he laughs, twiddling with the lace hem at the bottom of your short little slip. “yeah, but you never actually listen.” his thumb guides your chin upwards, pulling your gaze back up to his eyes. “so what’s making you actually listen today?” he asks softly, his hand engulfing your cheek. you lean into his palm, sighing to yourself. 

“i dunno,” you shrug, feeling small under his stare. “you dunno?” he repeats back, semi mockingly, but mostly full of endearment. you huff, glaring at him. he laughs again, and it makes something stir in your stomach. everything about him is so attractive, it can be upsetting at times. sometimes inconvenient.

there’s been more times you can count where you’ve sat on the sidelines while he conducts business meetings, strikes deals, makes compromises that are really more so situations that fully benefit him but worded to make it seem like they benefit the other person as well — and other business-y jargon you can hardly keep up with. but it doesn’t matter if you understand what’s going on or not, every time you sit and watch him in his element it lights a desire to stick your hand under your skirt and take care of the ache beginning to build. 

it’s just so hot seeing him be ahead of every single one of his colleagues, running circles around them with ease. his intelligence and capability is just so alluring. you think that it comes with his age too, the experience, the knowledge on life. you’ve always thought older men were the standard for attractiveness, and when you met farleigh, he somehow managed to raise the standard you had set in the stars and bring it to a level far beyond that. 

but with that, comes a sense of competitiveness with other women in his field. all closer to his age, more experienced than you are in almost every important aspect. it makes you a little insecure from time to time. you’re the first woman in her mid twenties he’s been with since he was in his mid twenties. he’s now approaching his early forties and it makes you nervous that maybe one day your company will bore him and he’ll crave someone else who can keep up with him. 

this morning at the bright and early hour of 7am, that fear was reignited in you. you watched from your desk, as your boss, your boyfriend, discuss things you don’t think you’d even really be able to understand, with a beautiful woman in his office. a woman closer to his age.

you watched as he laughed with her, as he let her run her hand down his forearm, watching as he let her hug him before she exited. to wrap a neat bow around the shit filled box, she made it a point to send a condescending smile to you on her way out, almost like she just knew. 

but, you know she’s just a coworker, she’s not even in the same department as he is, and is usually located in another location across the state but it felt horrible to see them interact. and it felt even worse knowing they would look good together, complementing one another with a high sense of class and elegance. 

farleigh anchors you back to him, squeezing your hip and gently patting your cheek. “what’s going on in that head of yours?” he murmurs, looking at you intently. “hmm?” 

“do you think i’m too young for you?” you suddenly ask, eyes already lined with tears. he’s a bit taken aback, not expecting the line of questioning. he takes a moment, swiping away your fallen tears. “no, i don’t. if i did, this—we wouldn’t be happening.” he says clearly, matter of factly, but there’s gentleness in his words, he wants to wipe away any doubt that might linger in your mind about you two. “why? do you think i’m too old for you?” he questions further, sitting up and pulling you along with him, making sure with every movement you remain close. you shake your head, sniffling.

“no,” you huff. “but i was watching you with…that woman in your office and i just…” you trail off, looking down at his button up again, smoothing down invisible wrinkles. 

“got a little jealous?” he can’t help the smile that grows on his face and raises his tone, it’s embarrassing and you return his inflating ego with a silencing glare. “yes.” you admit, somewhat annoyed, but you know it stems from your insecurity and fear that he’ll confirm it. 

“baby,” he sighs playfully, shaking his head. “i’m far from interested in her. i’ve got my eye on a new girl,” he grins, his tongue poking his cheek. “yeah?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest, suppressing your smile. “who is she?” 

he looks off to the side wistfully, exhaling with desire. “ohh i don’t think you’d know her,” he waves you off, sighing when he leans back into the headboard. “she’s my secretary. she wears these tight little pencil skirts, and she has a habit of bending over often. i think she does it on purpose.” he adds, his hands running up and down your thighs. your efforts in keeping a straight face fall flat, your smile betraying them and perking the corners of your lips. 

“oh really?” you giggle, leaning forward. “why don’t you make a move on her?” you tilt your head, wondering what his answer will be. “i’m thinking about it. i’m thinking about telling her how i watch her from my office when she thinks i can’t see her, how i think about bending her over her own desk and fucking her in front of all the little boys in their cubicles who think they have a chance with her.” 

warmth floods your cheeks like a tide pool, dragging you into the depths of nervousness. his smart tongue and dirty mouth still manage to catch you off guard, never failing in making you flustered and shy. he loves it, he loves how easy it is to play with you.

you can feel him getting hard under you, and it excites you, it makes that familiar ache trickle all over. “i don’t think she’d be against that.” you reply, trying to hide the shakiness in your words, but he hears it. he can always see through you and your little acts. 

“oh you think so?” he hums, squeezing your hips. you nod, leaning in closer, nudging your nose with his. “i think so.” you whisper, your lips brushing against his.

“you feel that?” he murmurs, lightly grinding his bulge against your panty clad cunt. you whimper softly, nodding. “it’s only ever for you,” he breathes out, pressing his lips to your lovingly with a chaste kiss. he peppers kisses to your lips over and over until he sinks into you, pulling you in with a hand behind your head. 

he moans into your mouth, gripping your hips and planting you firmly on his cock, rocking into you with haste. the pressure and friction ripples through your cunt, nudging your clit just the way you need. you cup his cheeks while you kiss farleigh, melting into him and sighing with content when he migrates from your lips, sucking hot bruises into the side of your neck. 

“i need you,” you whimper, meaning the sentiment in more ways than one. farleigh is the only man who’s ever made you feel the way that you do, emotionally and physically. you’ll always need him, whether it be a strong shoulder to cry on, or a strong shoulder to bite into when he’s got you nearly folded in half, fucking you stupid. 

“how bad?” he breathes out, bringing his hand between your grinding hips, pressing his long fingers firmly against your cunt. he can feel the dampness seep through the material, laughing smugly when you gasp. “real bad huh?” he adds, humming in agreement when you nod dumbly. “i know baby,” he coos, kissing the space beneath your ear. 

you shrug off the spaghetti straps of your slip, a breath of a shock being pulled from your lips when he acts faster than you, eagerly tugging down the white silk material to expose your bare chest. he groans to himself, lurching forward and taking your soft flesh in his mouth. 

you arch your back closer to him, eyes fluttering shut and mouth agape with soft moans trickling out into the dimly lit room. he plays with you, rutting his hips into yours, hands and tongue lapping up and groping your breasts, hungrily squeezing, licking and nipping at your flesh. 

your hands play with the curls at the back of his neck, tugging with a gasp when you feel his teeth graze your nipples. “farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back, trying to grind harder on his cock. “need you,” he kisses your sternum, looking up at you with his hands far beneath your slip, wrapped around your sides, fingers gently skimming across your ribs. “i’m right here baby,” his voice cascading around you like caramel, enveloping you in its golden hue, rich and sweet. 

he pushes your dampened panties to the side, groaning to himself at the sight of your cunt glistening. he thumbs at your lips, sighing lowly and spreading you apart. 

his thumb rubs over your clit, chuckling when your lips part and a shaky moan escapes out. he rescinds his warm touch faster than you would’ve appreciated, softly cooing away your sounds of disappointment. he lifts you off of his lap, laying you gently down on your back. his large hand cradles the back of your head, lowering you down onto the pillow below you. 

he unties his tie, discarding it somewhere to be found by the maids in the morning, a shaky sigh fluttering from your lips at the view of him above you. the soft glow of the lamp on your shared nightstand wafts all around him, tracing the outline of his full curls, highlighting his cheekbones and drawing a line down the bridge of his nose. his lips tempt you without having to move at all, no movements in forming words, he just stares at you and with that alone, you’re a perfect malleable thing ready for whatever he has planned. 

“you’re beautiful,” he states in a breath of admiration, leaning back down towards you. “my girl,” he sighs, kissing your neck, breathing in the dainty vanilla, floral scent from the dolce & gabbana perfume you begged him for. but beneath the expensive perfume is your scent. your sweet natural scent he can never seem to get enough of, always crouching down to hug you from the back and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, sniffing right at the sweet spot. and now, it just turns him on further, fishing out his cock from his dress slacks, too bothered to take the extra steps in sliding them off his hips, too eager, too desperate to feel you, to be close to you, to be in you. 

he pushes in, tugging a deep gasp from the depths of your chest. he groans the second your cunt envelopes him in, gripping him in and squeezing. your walls pulse around the girth of him, trying to adjust to the intrusion. he grinds his hips, shuddering above you. “fuck baby,” he chuckles in disbelief, kissing your collarbone. 

“god,” you choke out, swallowing thickly, dragging your fingertips down his back. he starts pivoting his hips deeper in you, slowly pumping in and out, wanting to take his time with you, relishing in being able to savor your cunt. it’s been a few weeks since you both have had sex, he’s just been so busy with work, he hasn’t had the time to fuck you like you deserve, but now he has all the time in the world, and he intends to use it until the very last second. 

you feel so full of him and you find yourself somehow wanting more, wishing you could be with him deeper, but in the same breath as that thought, he knocks whatever you have left in your lungs right out, pushing into you deeper as if he could sense what you wanted. your calves rest on his lower back, keeping him flush inside you.

gentleness starts to shed, and an eager pace takes its place, his hips moving faster and his cock hitting harder. your clit brushes against his trimmed bristle of pubic hair, whimpering at the friction, tears already brimming your pretty eyes as he fucks you. 

and then you say something you’ve never said before, never even really thought of or fantasized about, but as you stare at him, watching him fuck you like he owns you, you can’t help it from coming out. “hit me,” you whimper pathetically, hardened nipples pressed to his chest with desperation. he stills inside you for a moment, panting with a look of confusion, unsure if you really just said what you said. 

“what baby?” he asks breathlessly, swallowing thickly. “hit me, touch me, please farleigh,” you plead, fisting at his button up, grinding your hips down to try and regain some friction. he’s ashamed with the way his cock twitches inside of you at your desperation. so unadulterated and unfiltered in the act of something so filthy. 

his hips start moving again, and he’s grabbing at your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker. “open.” he commands, and like a dutiful believer, you obey, parting your mouth for him. he spits and you swallow without being told to, moaning with a gasp when his hand lands on your cheek afterwards with zero infliction of pain, but enough heaviness to remind you his strength is there. it’s simply withheld to avoid hurting you and bruising your pretty face. 

your cunt squeezes around him, arching your back into his chest as his hips pivot harder into yours. he takes notice, landing another firm but lovingly smack across your cheek. before your moan gains sound, his large palm covers your mouth, his lips finding your ear. “be quiet and listen,” he murmurs, leaving the air silent. all you can hear is him fucking you, how wet and loud you are. “you’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles in your ear, and the moan that follows behind his palm just proves his point further. 

“do you hear that?” he shoves his hips in, pinning yours down with his available hand, giving more access for him to push in deeper. the fat tip of his cock nudges at your cervix, filling you out more than anyone ever has. “making a mess all over my slacks baby.” he grunts, but there’s no complaints to be found. 

when he finally removes his hand from your lips, he’s greeted with your heavenly moans, rendering him weak with his face in your neck, mouth baring hot kisses, groaning your name. 

his hand that nearly dwarfs your face comes back down, slapping the side of your cheek, his warm palm cradling it after the impact, his thumb running along your pouring waterline. “my little crybaby,” he grunts with humor, his hand sliding from your cheek to the nape of your neck, his other hand following suit. he presses down, forcing you to crane your neck downward, focusing your gaze on the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of your puffy cunt. “watch.” he utters in your ear, his teeth catching your earlobe before he pulls away. 

and you do. 

you watch him take you over and over, his hips slamming into yours, occasionally stilling in you to let the weight of his cock buried deep inside you hang heavy.

your legs tremble around him, unable to soothe them from the adrenaline that comes with getting fucked. “touch yourself.” he exhales, bringing his lips to your forehead. “wanna feel you cum,” and that alone could have made you finish. you bring your fingers to your aching clit, moaning a drawn out whimper at the stimulation. he watches himself fuck you, how he stretches you out and how your cunt accommodates him every time. 

“fuck,” you sob, panting heavily, sweat starting to collect around your neck and trickle between your breasts. “can i cum?” you plead through a choked moan, clit throbbing in excitement when he nods, picking up the pace in his thrusts. he releases your neck, traveling up to your jaw and bringing you closer to his mouth. his lips are pressed to your’s in milliseconds, drinking in every little sound you let out as he fucks you through your orgasm.

a bruising grip rests on your jaw and hip, like a wordless statement of how much of you belongs to him. which is everything. you can’t think of a single thing about you that you could say isn’t apart of farleigh; hell, you can’t think at all right now, not when your poor cunt is getting pounded into and your shaky fingers can’t seem to stop rubbing circles over your clit. the feelings that deluge through your body are addictive, it feels so good that it trickles into a delicious type of hurt. 

you’ve already cum, its existence proven by the white ring around the base of his cock, the sight has your hole weakly tightening around him. with no forewarning, he pulls out, leaving you hollow and empty, wincing from the loss.

before you can voice your confusion and protests, he’s flipping you around, guiding your hips back up, large hand pressing your cheek into the pillows below you. he’s back in you as soon as he exited you, groaning lowly to himself. “fuckin’ perfect.” he grunts mostly to himself, his cock twitching at the sweet little gasp you let out from the new angle. he travels into you deeper this way, nudging your cervix with every other thrust. 

he curls behind your back, his chest pressed flush against your shoulder blades, his lips nipping and sucking bruises into the crook of your neck, breathing in your earthy dulcet scent. he brings your wrists to the small of your back, keeping them in place while his thrusts start to become more and more sporadic. “gonna cum, tell me how bad you want it,” he grits, feeling his climax fast approaching, eager to finish to the sweet sound of you begging for his cum. 

begging for him to cum inside of you is as easy as breathing, if not easier, since he always manages to take your breath away, whether that be by his charming smile or with his hand wrapped firmly around your throat. “please cum in me,” you sob, tears staining the white silk pillowcases. “wanna be full of you, please farleigh, i need it, need it so bad,” you babble mindlessly, trying to fuck your over sensitive cunt onto him, your ass meeting him with every pivot he sends into you. 

normally, he’d push you a little more, too indulgent in his desires to let you have it that easily. but the way you fuck yourself onto him and cry for him is enough to make any man give in. his pants come out sharp, his thrusts matching the tempo of his thumping pulse, spilling into you with a loud groan of your name, his hips fused firmly to your ass. he pumps into a few more times, swallowing hard at the sight of his and your sticky cum and the mess it's made. “gonna pull out now baby,” he murmurs softly in your shoulder blade, kissing the skin lovingly. you wince, squeezing your eyes shut, collapsing back into the bed with your legs tucked close to you.

he crawls over on top of you, running his hands across your clammy forehead and temple. he peppers gentle kisses over your warm skin, humming quietly. “you okay?” he asks, laying beside you, pulling you into him after tucking himself back into his slacks. “mhm,” you nod lazily, shuffling around to face him. he chuckles, kissing your nose. 

his arm wraps around you, securing you into his chest, rubbing your back in relaxing circles. his hand sneaks between your legs, scooping his cum with his fingers, shushing you playfully when you whimper, your hips shying away from his touch. “behave,” he chastises lightly, bringing his fingers to your lips. “open.” you open your bitten lips, tongue darting out along his digits, licking him clean. you hum something of approval, kissing the pads of his fingers before he pulls them away. “good?” he mumbles against your cheek. “good.” you confirm, kissing his hair.

he snakes his arms around your waist, unsatisfied with how far you feel from him wanting to be as close as humanly possible. you’ve always loved how touchy he remained after sex, used to the two pump and dump cycle you’ve had with past guys.

unlike them, farleigh isn’t just some guy, he’s a man – granted a man old enough to be your father, but that never bothered you, if anything it added to the appeal. but regardless of all of that, he loves you, loves being near you even in non-sexual contexts. he proves it every day, like he is now, whispering about how pretty you look right now. “i love you,” he says softly, and it sounds like the first time he said it, gentle and nervous. it makes you smile, opening your heavy eyes to peer into his. “i love you.” you repeat back with just as much truth and confirmation. “i love you,” you kiss him, sealing your promise with your lips pressed together.

[glitterjay]

hey! im so happy you have requests open cuz i freaking like your writing :D

im very picky when it comes to reader x idol but i like the things you post sm, u get me fr 🫡

can i be ⭐️ anon pls ? <3

so can i request nerdy/innocent enha (hyung line) and reader that has the personality of a frat boy

we often see fratboy enha n naive reader but i think as a society we need them to switch places at least once 🫵🏼

i hope u can understand what im trying to say lololl

⭒ nerdy!enhypen, popular reader, masturabtion, head (both m. receiving), dry humping, suggestive content under cut, mdni

⭒ c's note: I LOVE THIS IDEA. i love sub!enhypen so much... writing this was quite satisfying. also, i appreciate the kinds words :( im glad my work is enjoyable enough! and you can be ⭐️'anon! welcome to the club, woop woop! i hope i delivered just what you wanted. if not, do let me know 🙏

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin

nerdy!heeseung

who loves to stare at you as you walk down the halls with your fancy clothes on. the way his eyes light up when you look at him and smile in that one class you both share. the shock in his face when you called him, his name rolling off your tongue in the sweetest way. how he was even more surprised when you dragged him to a janitors closet and got on your knees in front of him. when he asked why, you simply said it was because he was cute, and because you were tired of the assholes that followed you everywhere.

nerdy!heeseung

who had to stop his loud moans with the back of his hand as you sucked him off. who apologized everytime his hips rammed into your thorat making you gag around his cock.

nerdy!heeseung

who thought it would be a one time thing, not knowing he'd be back in that closet more often.

nerdy!jay

who was invited to a party by his friend, and had no idea where to start. standing in the middle of the house's living room shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. how his hands played with each other unsure what to do at all. the way his eyes immediately found you through the crowd of people, staring at your figure in pure amusement.

nerdy!jay

who had enough courage to tell you he was a virgin when you invited him to talk. he was surprised when your face lightened up at the fact, cocking an eyebrow at you. the way his hands shyly grabbed your hip when you startled his lap, rocking your body back and forth while kissing his neck. you were bold, but he liked it.

nerdy!jake

who was just way too shy to interact with anyone really. his cute habit of fixing his glasses when he was nervous made you approach him, giggling at his confused expression. a cute and popular girl talking to him? bullshit.

nerdy!jake

who always had messy hair which got even messier when you had him squirming under the touch of your hands in an empty classroom. he tried pushing, kicking, biting you away, but you wouldn't budge. he was sooo sensitive, it was embarrassing. you cooed him every time a sob would leave his pretty mouth, telling him it was okay. everything about him made you want to ruin his good boy aura.

nerdy!sunghoon

who was always at the back of the classroom scribbling notes to study when he got home. who always made sure to put his glasses in their little pouch before walking out of class for any inconvenience.

nerdy!sunghoon

who you came to find out had a very beautiful voice that complimented his way of moaning. how his hands would go anywhere but your head as you took in his dick whole in your mouth. the way he looked away when you grabbed his left hand and placed it yourself on top of your own hair. the way he said it was too much and that he was dried out, but still cummed twice just for you.

© glitterjay | tumblr

[lushaletta]

love and its lethal consequences / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, dark!tom, mild swearing, violence

summary: tom grapples between his dark desires and his unlikely affection for you. it’s deadly.

a/n: part 3 to this lil series :> pls lmk if u guys r enjoying so far!! idk how long i want this to be but we shall see where it goes

read the previous parts: one two

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Tom has decided. And once Tom decides something, nothing will get in his way.

You are to be his.

The murder would be the easiest part of all. Twice, now, he’s done it. First with that disgusting, grumbling Myrtle and second with his nasty father he can’t even be bothered to think about.

Third time is always the charm. He has it all figured out.

“Tommy!” you beam, following the daily routine. You slide over a treacle tart. “You liked these ones last time.”

He accepts the dessert wordlessly. He’s too deep in thought. You grin.

A few more moments of silence pass and you begin to be irritated by the lack of noise. You have to fill the air up somehow. “Have I told you about Murph yet?”

He’s almost sickened by the name itself. So much so that he can’t stomach the lovely tart your mother has made for him. You’re on a nickname basis now? “You have not.”

You haven’t told him anything about this boy, but he already knows everything. He won’t have to worry about this foul beast for much longer, so he’ll tolerate the giddiness in your eyes for now.

“We’ve just gone on a date. I think it went well, you know? He’s sweet. Opens the door for me, matches pace. That type of thing.”

Tom could do that too if that’s what you really wanted. “How wonderful,” he deadpans.

You’d be a fool not to notice the way his eye twitched when you said the word “date” or the poorly hidden sarcasm he laced in his speech.

“I think our next one is this Wednesday,” you continue.

He’s absolutely fucking repulsed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d march on over to that moron’s room and take care of it himself. But there’s a plan, procedure to be followed. And Tom is nothing if not methodical.

“I can’t believe it! The both of us have dates this week. What even are our lives now?” Camilla cheers, leaning back in her seat.

“I don’t think Tom is very happy about mine.”

She raises a brow. “That’s because Murphy isn’t pure. I’m telling you, Riddle’s lot is psychotic.”

“Okay, I’m not a fan of them either, but Tom knows I’m not pure. He’s been perfectly pleasant.”

“He hardly speaks!” she retorts.

You roll your eyes and urge her to continue reading her book. She complies. Camilla’s never been very argumentative.

As she settles in the pages, all entranced by the words, you lean back in your chair. It is a strange twist of fate that you’re now friends with Tom, but despite Camilla’s warnings, you can’t get yourself to leave. It’s a comfortable trap.

“Hello,” Tom says from behind you as you swing your feet on the railings.

You don’t skip a beat. “Hi!”

Tom knows by now that he can’t surprise you.

The echoing chambers of Hogwarts are bathed in soft moonlight, and no one else is around. Tom is usually by himself at this time. You only steal each other’s afternoons.

“You know,” you muse, breaking the comfortable quiet that settled between you. “You’re very important to me.”

Tom clears his throat. He’s never really been important to anyone. He swallows. “Likewise.”

He’s avoiding your gaze. You think it’s cute. His lips quirk into a faint smile, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes.

Suddenly, you study his face, trying to unravel the mysteries hidden within. He’s more withdrawn recently. Even quieter, if that’s possible. You suppose it has something to do with Murph but you never can be too sure when it comes to him.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“I like the view.” He sighs.

Tom is not a good person. Far from it. Your friend realises it but you don’t. You’re a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume him, that’s already consumed him. You’re both refuge from his despair and a constant reminder. He finds solace in your company and he hates it but now he has no choice. He can’t bring himself to kill you. He knows he never will and so it has to be this way.

It will hurt you, undoubtedly. It will make him more terrible than he already is.

Time is creeping up on him. You’re growing closer with that wretched Ravenclaw and the longer he waits, the more you will be affected.

“Murphy Atthill.”

He turns around at the call of his name and can’t help but feel uneasy. Tom’s presence tends to do that. “Riddle? What can I do for you?” he asks politely. He isn’t very good at masking his anxiety.

Tom casts the Killing Curse and he feels the unmistakable split of his soul as he recites haunting Latin incantations. He knows there’s no going back.

A chilling sense of finality looms over him and yet it weighs light on his conscience. All for the better, this is. In fact, it’s a twisted sense of satisfaction that he feels knowing that the deed is done. He knows he’s crossed a line with you from which there is no return,

But Murphy’s eyes lifeless are much prettier that way.

taglist for this series!! @mariamyousef702 @enidths @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @girlogies @unwrittenletter @helalokithor @lisv1n

[eetherealgoddess]

Could u pls write pt 2 for CAUGHT ..?

It was so good, Ur writing is js so amusinggg

(It totally OK if u don't want to)

😼💞

Alright, this is gonna be angsty af and I don’t think you’re gonna expect the ending so I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if Sanzu or anyone else seems ooc I really tried to keep them in character.

Read the first part for context!! Link below!! ♡︎♡︎♡︎

Part One

ꨄCaught 2ꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Cheater Au

Sanzu Haruchiyo & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Caught 2

“So you work for a criminal organization?” You question Sanzu as you sit on the bed with your knees against your chest, arms circled around them. Fortunately, Sanzu didn’t have to follow the Haitani Brothers to work today so he stayed home to answer any questions you have to regain trust, though you haven't accepted or declined their ‘offer,’ you decided to give him a chance to tell you the truth about everything he either lied about or never informed you. He sits beside you, body still bare as he leans his head on your shoulder, blanket only covering his bottom half.

“And the Haitanis too?”

“Yeah.”

You pause in thought, repeating what has been confirmed in your mind. Everything began to make more sense considering the situation from the night before.

“How long have you been cheating on me?” You grimace as the ache in your chest appears, the memory still causing a type of pain you won’t be able to rid any time soon. His lack of response caused you to feel worse as your stomach dropped, anxiety high as you sat in discomfort while holding back your tears.

“A year.” You couldn’t look at him, pushing him off as you curled into a fetal position, facing away from his form. You don’t bother to fight off the arms circling around you as his body spooned yours, hugging you tightly. Half way needing the comfort as well as not having the strength as you humiliatingly allow the tears to fall.

“Why?” You say in a shaky voice, his hand gently stroking your stomach as you feel his breath on your neck.

“I love them as much as I love you.” He whispers, fingers gripping your skin as he listens to you weep.You turn your head to meet his eyes.

“How could you say that? We were together first! Y-you betrayed me!” His palm reaches your face as he hovers over you from behind.

“I’m sorry.” He places his lips on yours as you move your lips back eagerly, desperate to revive the old feeling you would get before you found out about everything. The smacking of your lips echoed through the bedroom as he climbed on top of you, the covers sliding down as his naked body sits on top of yours.

Your cock springs to life against his ass as your hands are placed on his chest. Both of his hands gently grab your wrists before pinning them beside your head. He moves slightly against your cock, testing the waters as you quietly moan against his mouth.

“Such a good slut for us. Dirty boy, what would Y/n think if he saw you like this?” Ran teases with a smirk as he continues his thrusting, making intense eye contact with Sanzu who responds with another loud moan before Rin smacks his ass.

You continue to ignore the painful memories, Sanzu releasing your wrists to wipe your tears with his thumbs, his lips catching your tongue in a sucking motion as you feel his cock harden against your stomach. One of his hands reaches back, brushing against your cock before rubbing his thumb along your tip.

“He likes it. So fucking dirty.” Rin chuckles as he accelerates his thrusts. “Tell us how much of a dirty whore you are.” He halts before bending over to grab Sanzu’s hard cock as he gives it a squeeze. Ran pulls Sanzu’s head off of his cock.

“I’m such a fucking slut! I’m a dirty whore! Keep fucking me, please! I’m so close!”

Your eyes are shut tight as you begin to sweat, pleasure shooting from your cock from his touch. The touch you thought was only shared between the two of you. The touch that felt only special to you. Sanzu’s lips move from your mouth as they make their way down your neck, kissing the scar he left from biting you yesterday. You shiver as he whispers, “I can’t let you go,” against your neck. …a bullet made contact with his stomach, his body falling with a thud.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” You yell at the intruders before hopping up and running to the bleeding man…

The pink haired beauty spits in his hand before he wraps it around your cock, rubbing your shaft before he lowers himself, moaning out as your erection is engulfed in his ass. You suck in a breath as he picks himself up before dropping down. He rolls his hips, meeting your thrusts as you both accelerate, your hands holding onto the back of his head and neck as he grips your shoulders.

“We’ll never be through! You promised!” He says before he pulls his arm back and lands a direct punch to your face.

He pulls back with a heated gaze, placing his hands on your chest as he speeds up, hair flapping as his head falls back, mouth slightly open as you eye the pretty sight in awe. You wet one of your hands with spit before wrapping around his shaft, tugging as his hips buck harder.

“Good. So good.” He whispers, his nails piercing your chest as you speed your hand.

“S-stop!” You yell, grabbing Sanzu’s hair before pulling him off your cock, a string of saliva and cum hanging from his mouth as you eyed his gorgeous, red face. His eyes glazed over as he moans from the grip on his head, body rocking as Ran fucks into him.

“What is th-!” He cuts you off by desperately attaching his lips to yours.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He whispers against your lips with one hand balancing himself as he rubs your cock.

“S-Sanzu! Wait.” The memories that invade your mind begin to distract you, becoming too overwhelming to handle as he rides your cock. Pulling your hand back, you place it on his shoulder, slightly pushing him away. He doesn’t budge, continuing to pound his own prostate against your erection as he bites his lip. You hold back from bucking your hips as you sit up, only to be pushed back down by his hands.

“He’s still not convinced.” Rin says, motioning his head for Sanzu to kiss him. You hear the lip smacking of both men next to your ear, the pain in your chest deepening as well as your conflicted feelings of being aroused by the display.

“Stop!” You yell out, sweat dripping from your head as he pins your wrists. He narrows his blue eyes.

“Why can’t you accept me?” He hissed, riding harder as both of his hands wrap around your throat. Your hands attempt to peel his fingers off before you try to push him off, his hands cutting your air way off as your body rocks against the bed.

“You like this, huh? Watching him get fucked while he takes your dick in his throat. You just wanted to be included, yeah?” You can hear Rin’s smirk as Ran chuckles, sweat covering his body as his face becomes darker.

“You’re a dirty boy, too. That's why you watched us for so long. Maybe you’re a slut too, yeah?” Ran grins.

You scratch his arms as blood oozes out, attempting to free yourself as his grip tightens, your face tight as it becomes warmer, your feet kicking the bed as you try to grip him somehow to push him off. He only stares down at you with a cold glare, pink hue still on his face as he nears his orgasm.

“It’s okay if it feels good. Embrace it, my love.” Sanzu says softly against your cock…

Black dots begin to fill your vision as you struggle to get Sanzu off of you. Finally, another pair of arms wrap around the pink haired fiend before he’s yanked off of you, hands releasing their tight grip as you sit up and cough violently, catching your breath before you fall back down weakly.

“I just need him to understand, Rin!” Sanzu growls frustratingly as he’s held in the purple haired man’s arms, attempting to free himself before Rin forces him to make eye contact.

“I know, but you have to calm down.”

You ignore the older Haitani caressing your forehead with his thumb as well as checking your breathing. Your eyelids shut, darkness engulfing your vision.

Ran looks back at the two men.

“I think we’ll give it to him. There’s no coming back from this.”

You wake up in a bed, sitting up as you stretch and yawn. You look at the dim lamp as well as the dark room, attempting to remember your surroundings. You look at the door in confusion when three people you don’t recognize walks in.

One of the men smiles before he sits on the bed.

“Do you remember your name?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you nod your head.

“Y/n?” The man smiles wider as he says, “Good. Do you remember anything in the past twenty four hours?”

You think for a minute before you shake your head. You also say no when he asks if you remember who he is or the other two people in the room. They all give each other a look.

Come to find out, you recently suffered from a head injury, causing you to forget not only some of your past but the past twenty four hours as well. Including the men who claim to be your boyfriends. Apparently you’ve all been together for three years. You had a nurse who came to check in on your amnesia for a week before you got back on your feet. At least one of your boyfriends stayed with you while the others went to work at some business firm they work for.

A year passes and everything is back on track, as well as your blooming relationship. The sex is enticingly good, your boyfriends seeming to know all your favorite spots as well as helping you learn theirs. They replaced all your old belongings such as your devices with new ones, clear of any old data. You all had been living happily together, until one day, home alone and bored, you eyed the office. Curious you looked around, coming across a filing cabinet. Opening it, you found an old phone. A weird feeling settled in your gut as you set it on the charger.

While it charges, you check the files. The names catch your eye as you pass through. Grabbing one, you open it, gasping as you drop it from your hand. Your body trembles as you eye the gruesome photo. Eyebrows furrowing as your palm covers your mouth, you read the document attached.

Victim? Traitor? Bonten? What the fuck?

You set that one back, grabbing another file and opening it to view the content. Gasping once more with wide eyes as you stare at another ‘traitor’ that Bonten took care of, a gruesome detailing of the incident. Seeing the phone turn on next to you, shakily grabbing it, you eye the picture of you and Sanzu in confusion. Why is it just you two? You search through the phone’s photos as well as the messages, gaining clue after clue of what truly happened with your ‘head injury.’ You figured out every single lie they told you since you woke up a year ago.

You couldn’t stop the vomit from shooting out of your throat, gagging and dry heaving as you breathe heavily, sweat covering you as you frantically get off of the floor, not bothering to clean the mess. You run out of the office straight into a chest. The hairs on your arms stick up as you look at the person you thought you knew in fear.

“What a curious little kitten.”

[journeysfable]

Making this it's own post cause I think I already made an ask about Gem's lore in Martyn's inbox and don't want to bother him about it anymore

Anyway I think Gem is more powerful than the watchers

hear me out

(this is both me presenting an idea for the Eyes and Ears lore and also me begging people to pay more attention to Gem's lore pls am lonely over in the loving Gem's lore corner) (And this also accidentally turned in A Character Gem character study of sorts I think. Oops)

During the Empire's crossover, Scar, in at least Joel's pov, said "did anyone else think this was a new life series?" cc!Scar had no reason to ask such a question meaning he was in character and his character, who just came from the Hermitcraft world and was now in the Empires world, wondered if he was in a life series game, which puts all three servers in the same universe imo. For at least Scar.

In the crossover Gem revealed her HC and Esmp characters were one and the same and that her character is a being that can casually move between worlds by sleeping, an ability no one else had. And because she can just hop between worlds and slip into whatever role fits best for that world and she doesn't realize that not everyone is just playing like she is.

A person is merely a costume to c!Gem.

And again, this is 100% canon

From "I have a SECRET?! Empires x Hermitcraft" "I have a secret. You see, when you join a Minecraft world you can be anyone that you want to be. Sometimes I'm a princess, but sometimes I change. And then I'm an elf. And in some worlds, I'm just me. And you see, where I'm from. That's kind of normal."

And then the following line has something interesting in it.

"One day I was just walking casually in the Empires world, playing DnD as I always do as a princess with my friends."

The Empires world is a game of DnD to c!Gem. That's haha silly meta but if you've watched the other esmp povs you know not everyone's character is role playing.

Like yea the content creators are role playing but Sausage's character is not roleplayong. But Gem's character is.

For example: In Empire's Shubbble plays Shelby the witch. Geminitay plays Geminitay the world hopping larper. Shelby the witch isn't larping, though.

But Geminitay The World Hopping Larper is seemingly not aware of this.

Further evidence that c!Gem is so powerful and used to playing a character she doesn't realize that Real People exist comes in "Exanding my Medieval Kingdom! Empires x Hermitcraft"

After patiently explaining to Sausage that she can move between worlds and that she's role playinng, Gem is greatly confused by the fact that Sausage (who through the whole season has been hopping across time and space by accident) can't control his abilities.

And at first it's seemed like Gem was aware that Sauasage wasn't roleplaying as she explained her world hopping and role playing to him. But then his freak out causes Gem to make this comment that I can't tell if it came from cc!Gem poking fun at cc!Sausage or c!Gem realizing that c!Sausage isn't roleplaying "He's not role playing is he? That's genuine. He's actually crazy"

There are a lot of implications that come with the fact that Gem doesn't even realize that the other Empires members aren't roleplaying. What else does she not realize because she can move between the worlds and be whovever she wants on a whim?

In "Empires 2: Building my BEST Medieval Minecraft Village!" Gem says she's a celestial being.

What does that mean? Well, the word celestial means related to the sky or heaven and is synonomous with heavenly, planetary, stellar, and godlike.

It may allude to the fact her name is Geminitay, a constellation(stellar). But it also sort of implies she's a fucking god or at least similar to one.

So what does all this have to do with Eyes and Ears lore?

I think c!Gem is so powerful it makes her dangerously naive. Not to herself but to others. Because she's possibly so powerful she potentially doesn't realize that danger exists.

And perhaps she's so powerful that the watchers can't feed on her emotions. Or at least not all of them.

Or maybe they're too scared to. Afraid of what she could to do them if they angered her in any way.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 5 . As I Know It

tags: reader has never experienced the warmth of love, abuse as the norm, hints of anxiety and trauma, short chapter

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

Buy Me Dessert

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Weird

If _____ is asked to describe Cale’s group that’s the word they would use.

From their strength to how they act, _____ finds all of them weird.

But it’s not just the individuals in this group that the healer finds weird. It’s the group itself.

Everyone acts so weirdly.

Maybe it’s because they aren’t family but the dynamics here are so different from what _____ is used to.

However, that’s not it either.

Even without it being said, the Medicus could tell that the way the group sees one another is like family. Blood-related or not, with official adoption papers or none; with or without those things _____ can see that the way everyone cares for each other transcends any friendship or servant-master relationship.

Proof and documentation were trivial to such a group because their bond transcends it all.

Whether _____ is part of that extraordinary bond is something they choose not to ponder about.

They feel as though they don’t need to know. Do they fear that the truth might hurt? A little. But it’s mostly because they don’t want to get attached. Because their kindness is already so addicting, what more if _____ allows themself to indulge further and act as though they have a place in the group’s family-esc dynamics.

So they try to settle by acting as an outsider.

Try to be content that they can even see such amazing things.

However, sometimes greed takes over.

Moments like when the kids are playing a prank on Choi Han or everyone doting on Cale. Moments like that make _____ want to join in.

And sometimes they do.

As soon as they do they regret it. The fear of getting attached only to be thrown away eats them alive. The fear of the possibility that one day the group will wake up and realize that _____ is only a liability makes them fear the group’s kindness.

They feel as though they are a naive month trying hard to not be drawn by the flame.

Nonetheless, despite all their walls, everyone is still kind.

But that’s what makes them all the more weird.

They see one another as a family but don’t act like one.

Well in _____’s opinion at least.

From what _____ has learned in their almost 18 years of living, a family doesn’t let anyone make mistakes. Family must discipline each other.

Well, they do…

But why are they so gentle?

Why is the worst punishment being deprived of their favourite things?

Why are there no physical punishments?

Do they care less than _____ thought?

Or perhaps are they not aware that you need physical punishment to get your point across?

_____’s family has always told them that without physical punishment, they would not learn. It’s the way a family, especially parents, shows love. The moment they stop punishing you for your mistakes, you know your family doesn’t love you anymore.

_____ can’t understand the weirdness of it all.

They care for each other but show unorthodox ways of showing it.

They discipline one another but in a way _____ does not understand.

They teach the kids to be frugal by giving them an allowance but still spoil them.

They want everyone to be independent and strong, well maybe except for Cale, but they don’t leave them in a desolate place for a week to teach them how to fend for themselves.

They want to know that they care for others but won’t blatantly list all of the good things they have done for the group.

_____ can’t understand all of it.

The way this group acts is the opposite of how the healer has been taught. The way they show care is different from what _____ has experienced. This group is something the Medicus has neither seen nor experienced.

Oh wait…

_____ has seen it before.

They’ve read it in fairy tale books.

Tales of different people coming together and building a family where the foundation is love, trust, compassion, and care. Tales of where your blood relation or abilities don’t matter in creating a family.

Tales of where someone will love you unconditionally because you’re you.

And that’s so weird

Because at the end of the day, that’s all those things are, fairy tales.

They are something that is not possible in real life.

Something that is written to help broaden a curious child’s imagination and vocabulary.

Something to put children to sleep.

Something that you forget as you grow older because reality hits you that family is crueller than those flowery words written in children’s books.

But despite everything. Despite the unorthodox ways Cale’s group acts and all the norms they break.

_____ can’t deny that they enjoy this weirdness.

Maybe in the end, _____ is the weird one.

[babyyweebbitch]

haiii! im super impressed w ur writing. It's so good (must admit). can I have a Simon "Ghost" Riley when he found out I trying to hide wounds after fighting?

It's okie for no, thx u and luv uuu <3

no problem bubba :)) i wanted to do something like this but didn’t know how to | i just reread everything and saw u said fight 🧍🏾‍♀️ chat pls to kill me its been a while and i JUST woke up from a nap. i hope this is okay tho!!

content warning : Black female reader, blood, hiding wounds , simon being angy

you had gotten back from a solo week long mission a few days ago, you were being quite distant and secretive from everyone… nobody knew why but they didn’t pry thinking it was just you wanting space after a tough mission especially going alone… nobody blamed you

one day, you were walking through the base in regular clothing but baggy clothing, which Simon thought was odd because you were always known to wear shorts or something, you grabbed a few medical supplies and hid them before quickly going to your room across the bass, he noticed this.

how odd… what would you need with these items? he decided to follow far behind you and watched as you went into your room. after a few minutes he knocked on your door and waited for a response

“im busy! one moment!” you yelled out sounding panicked and hurried.

“can i come in?” simon called out from the other side, his deep, thick British accent was very easy to tell who it was because of how it sounded. after a few seconds you opened the door but leaned against the door putting weight on one leg as you did, opening it just so much so he couldn’t see the rest of your room

“whats up?” you asked, having a face of trying to hide pain, which he took notice of very quickly. he raised an eyebrow and looked at you, taking a few seconds to answer

“i saw you got medical supplies… is everything okay?” he asked with clear worry in his voice, which only showed with you

“yeah everything is okay, i was just getting them for Johnny” you said clearly lying, Johnny has been with Ghost most of the day

“you’re lying — what is wrong?” he said, with a stern voice, you kinda just looked at him with a look of ‘oh shit, im cooked’ but you wanted to try and lie again

“im telling the truth, Si…”

“lying again! Y/N what is going on, let me in”

you both just looked at each other before you slowly opened the door, simon saw all of your bloodied bandages on the floor along with the new ones you had just gotten… he didn’t say anything at first but once he did you felt like a kid being yelled at again

“what the hell? what happened?” he said with a angry tone, he looked at you and the look in his eyes scared you. you avoided eye contact and you just looked at the floor

“it happened on my mission… i got banged up pretty bad and didn’t want to tell anyone…”

“why?!” simons voice was raised just a little bit once he asked this, he was angry that you didn’t say anything about it and he was angry you let it go this long. after a few seconds he walked into your room and closed the door “show me now, you don’t have an option” he said, standing directly in front of you with his arms crossed. you were about to protest but after seeing he was dead serious you untied your sweatpants and let them drop, once he saw your legs you had a few cuts and bruises but the worst one was a gash on your upper thigh that was still healing. he sighed and he pointed to your bed without further explanation

you sat down and simon started to take care of the gash on your thigh first before the rest. he didn’t have anything to stitch it with so he just wrapped it tightly after cleaning it and he prayed for the best.

“take your shirt off, i know theres more” he said as he tossed bloody tissues away and he looked at you, you took your shirt off and you had a tank top underneath, there were a few scrapes and bruises here and there on your arms and rest of your body but nothing that wouldn’t heal on its own.

“if you do something this stupid again, i will tell Price about it…” he said getting up from the floor and subconsciously cleaning up the old bloodied bandages and other trash from your floor. he didn’t say anything else afterwards, he was upset with you and didn’t know what to say or do with you. you kinda just watched him and once he was done cleaning up he left the room.

you felt horrible now…

[yanxidarlings]

am struggling to find inspiration to write slytherin so here's some nightmare fuel instead 💀 also pls tell me it's not just me the yellow font is gone and i am in despair (gave zs green instead bcos he's pretty much a 🐍)

YANDERE! CORMAC MCLAGGEN VS YANDERE! ZACHARIAS SMITH

• on todays edition of shit no one asked for: the most cursed pair of yanderes. just imagine for a second being stuck with two yanderes, already a situation of itself, but two douchebag yanderes, now that's just comically unlucky.

• cormac and zacharias are pretty much at the bottom of the yandere foodchain — paired up against anyone else and no doubt the other yandere comes out on top, but what if we take other yanderes out of the equation? what if our dear darling / reader doesn't have to deal with groups of snakes and eagles? (cormacias smithlaggen)

• i feel like both cormac and zacharias's obsession would be someone who doesn't have many people around them. because fundamentally neither are smart nor talented enough to come up with an elaborate scheme to trap the darling, the only way to 'get' their darling would be to drag them into a draining and boundless friendship.

• despite being incredibly similar in the way they 'yandere', their biggest difference is how they treat the darling: to zacharias, his darling is the only person who matters in his life, whilst cormac is simply obsessed with the idea of them, whether it be for their looks, intelligence, reputation, they're the person he wants to spend his life with, whether they like it or not.

• whilst their motivations might be different, both are preoccupied with 'keeping' their darling, feelings and emotions be damned. sure, zacharias wants his darling to be happy, but without him? he wants to wipe the smile off their face whenever he see's them with anyone else. they can be miserable, unstable and depressed, he doesn't care and he'll deal with whatever mood swings they throw at him. the one thing he won't deal with is his darling being away from him.

• zacharias might be the 'sweeter' (i use this term loosely) of the two, but that by no means implies he'd be fine with sharing. zach can barely share his darling with themself, and has pretty much attached himself to their hip. he doesn't bother having other close friends or caring about other people, zacharias only needs you and you only need him.

• but what exactly is he going to do when cormac comes onto his darling? the gryffindor just inserts himself into their perfectly content life and acts like their boyfriend, and broke his nose the one time zacharias dared tell him to (looks down) get lost in the forbidden forest and get [redacted] by a centaur-

• cormac? he's worse, he objectifies his darling in every way possible. he might not see exactly see them as an object, but he has trouble taking any of their emotions seriously. you don't want to spend the night with him? sounds like a you problem, love </3. is he happy when they're happy? sure, but does he give a rats arse if they're uncomfortable? mclaggen doesn't even notice.

• despite his less than savoury traits, cormac isn't opposed to sharing, and might even prefer it, as long as he gets his daily darling time, does it really matter if there's another?

• he might even become more tolerable as a yandere sharing, maybe it's the competition being the darlings favourite becomes, or maybe it's just the 'good' influence from watching zacharias bend over backwards to make their darling happy, but he slowly starts to care.

• albeit, still in a himbo, macho way. pricked your finger? cormac happily marches to and from the hospital wing to bring his darling a bandaid. broke a bone? (because cormac didn't catch you in time after throwing you down the stairs) he won't let his dear lift a finger (literally, you tried to get up and he kept pushing you back down).

• one thing they can agree on is that the darling is not allowed any privacy or agency in this relationship, you don't want to kiss? too bad, pucker up love it's time for the 4pm make out session, cormac called first dibs today!. you want to study for the o.w.l's? suck it up, nerd, it's hogsmeade day, zacharias is taking you to the three broomsticks and cormac has a game later that you have to cheer at.

"oh come oon!" zacharias whined as his arm was once again pushed off by m/n, but he did not let up, and once again slung his arm around the others shoulders "how much exposure therapy do i need to put you through, mate" he dragged them along, walking towards the quidditch pitch that was slowly piling up with students, all eagerly waiting for the match to begin.

m/n let out a sigh of relief as zacharias finally removed his arm, instead gripping onto their forearm and guiding them up the stands "we have to get seats at the top, cormac bet me five galleons he could high five me on his broom — there's this new quill at scrivenshafts i'm dying to get"

the match felt like it was never going to end, the screaming of gryffindor and slytherin as each team got a hold of the quaffle was deafening, and his eyes were to stay glued to cormac the entire match, he couldn't gaze at any other player even for a second, especially potter, or else-

"potters got the snitch!"

the sound of lee jordans voice erupted the gryffindor side of the pitch into victorious roars of applause. they knew what came next, it always happened but maybe cormac would be too distracted by his victory to-

"how about a kiss for the star of the match" ah, cormac had already flown over to where they sat "i want my five galleons first!" zacharias pipped up, patting at mclaggens pockets "get off me smith — you can have it tomorrow, i just came here for my kiss" and with that, before m/n could say anything, cormac had grabbed ahold of either side of their face, pulling their lips to his.

• cormac and zacharias don't so much share as they do tolerate each others presence within the darlings life. the bright side is that together, they do stand a chance against another yandere, probably not an intelligent one like anthony goldstein, or a violent one like one of the theo's™, but if the darling were to have also caught to attention of someone like lorenzo berkshire, they probably wouldn't loose custody immediately.