#its hitting me full force oh jesus

[kalofi]

im taking psychic damage AGH! hlvrai NOOOO!! GORDONFREEMAN OUGH! YAUCK- NO! ACK!

[manticore-fangs]

Blablablaaa schlatt fucking his kids babysitter

im sorry i havent gotten around to this.. but since i just got back into writing im loving this.

cw: breeding kink, stomach bulging? praise, f!reader, lmk if i missed any more! (i did not proofread or betaread)

schlatt shushing you and positioning you into full nelson, putting your hand over your mouth; trying to cancel the sounds that come from you.

"cmon toots, gotta be fuckin' quiet or we're gonna wake the kids." he says while thrusting up into you, hitting the perfect spot. you whimper out. "i can' schlatt, its a lot- holyyyy fuck..."

he thrust practically rough up into you even though he's trying to keep you quiet, almost like he doesn't care if you make the filthiest sounds.

you rest your head against his shoulder and began kissing his jaw, trying to muffle some of the noises at least. he starts dirty talking you, you swear he's trying to knock you up with his thrusts and his words.

"fuck toots. should've had kids with you instead of her. pussy's clenching on me so fuckin' tight- jesus- she wants my cum doesn't she? i know she does cause every time i mention the thought of breeding you she clenches up on me."

you whine and nod your head. "fuck- of course i am, love the thought of you getting me pregnant jay- love it s'fuckin' much." you look at him as he smirks, than he forces you to look down at where the two of you connect.

the schlucking noise coming from your pussy fuels you, you swear you can see an white ring forming around the base of his cock. schlatt starts dirty talking you, after the groaning and whines that come from his lips.

“shit doll- your so swollen. look at your little tummy toots, look at how its full with my loads. gonna be stuffed with babies and cock. gripping on my cock so good- jesus toots really gonna fuckin' milk me huh?" drool starts flowing down you lip and schlatt licks it up, then spitting right back into your mouth.

"you can take it doll, take my loads- shit your stomachs gettin' pudgy with every single load i knock up into ya'. i knew you were a good fuckin' girl, thought of this every time i fucked up into my fist."

the thought of him fucking his fist and wasting loads of cum makes you whine, you really wished he fucked his semen up into you, maybe you'd already be pregnant by than with his kid.

"y-you fucked your fist thinking of me? fuck thats hot.." your mind goes blank and all you can think about is schlatt just fucking a fleshlight and dumping loads into it, even though he didnt mention it- the thought still riles you up.

"oh fuck yeah- shouldnt have wasted those loads onto my hand, could've been fuckin' you so good like this." schlatt hisses through his teeth when he cums again but pushes through overstimulation, wanting to make your pussy take him.

"your womb is gonna be filled with kids, so many kids toots- fuck yeah- gonna make you a mommy, shit- your already a mother to my kids anyways, your gonna give them a sibling right? yeah- i know you will." he sees tears roll down your cheeks, watching as you sob from his talking and wanting to be pregnant with his kids.

"yeah- i wanna give them a sibling, please jay- lemme give them a sibling- fill me with your cum, ill do anything. really! ill do anything for your come." you put your hands together like your praying to god, begging for schlatts cum.

"jesus- i feel you clenching up, your gonna come on me huh? yeah- i know toots i know." he nuzzles your head than kisses the top of your head multiple times as you finally cum after three times while schlatt loses his rhythm and comes one more time in you before halting.

"did so good doll, holy fuck- not gonna pull out wanna make sure my cum takes." you both laid there in the same position for awhile. schlatts hand resting over your slightly pudgy stomach; slightly pushing it which makes you whine.

a week later, you look down at the test with two lines.

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Protection/Protective (Discord Drabble)

"Steve, I can – "

" – No, I got it!"

"Just let me – "

"No, I – Oh fuck!"

Steve lunges for the bedside drawer, hoping his uncoordinated, flailing gesture will stop the thing from falling to the floor, but it's too late. The drawer tips straight out of its rungs, the hardwood knocking Steve in the hand before it falls and spills the entire contents to the ground.

Spare keys, three-too-many cheery-flavoured chapsticks, baseball cards, a porno mag he had purchased back in Spring and finally, the goddamn condoms that are the cause of all the mess.

He whines and rests his head on Eddie's panting chest and his partner groans back and throws a lazy arm across his face.

This has all been a total disaster – the worst of all of Steve's sexual escapades. Even worse than the time Candy Simmons kicked him in the head and nearly knocked him unconscious when he was in the middle of going down on her on Tommy H's bed.

It didn't help that he and Eddie were already so nervous. So they had already wasted the afternoon fumbling around with neither of them all that sure about what the hell they were doing in the first place – plus they had his own constant back twinges and Eddie's hand-turned-full-arm cramp to contend with.

But after working through and accommodating all that, they were finally ready. Or so they thought before Steve found himself unable to get his big, stupid, sweaty paws on his box of condoms.

"Wait," he says, stretching an arm out to palm around on the floor, "I think I got it."

Steve sticks out his tongue for good measure, deep in concentration as his fingers skim over the spilled items. His eyes go wide and he grins down at Eddie as his hand hits the already-opened box.

"Found 'em," he beams, bolting upright as he holds up a condom wrapper in victory.

Eddie giggles and scrambles to sit up, all eager and giddy again as Steve moves to tear the thing open as quickly as possible.

Only it doesn't tear. The wrapper merely crinkles between his fingers, stretching and fraying.

"Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth.

Steve swings his legs over the edge of the bed, abandoning his partner to plant his feet on the beige carpet to pick up another.

And the same goddamn thing happens.

He shakes the second wrapper in his hands, wringing it in frustration until Eddie scoots up behind him, snaking his hands around his middle.

And with Eddie's hardness pressing right up against his lower back well... Steve remembers just what they were doing here.

"Let me do it," Eddie offers sweetly, bringing his hands up to join Steve's own as he hooks his chin on his shoulder, "– Oof, that box is looking pretty full down there, Casanova."

"Shut up!" Steve laughs.

"Jesus Christ!" Eddie curses in his ear, struggling with the wrapper with enough force he begins shaking their joined form.

He drops the condom on the ground and brings his hands up to Steve's front, smoothing over his bare chest as they both glare down at a new enemy.

Eddie sighs.

"Let's just get dressed and go to the gas station then."

Update: 3/05/24 Part 2 or read the whole thing on ao3

[dombottom]

I sat running through what I was gonna say in my mind. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I had to end it. I was getting sloppy, I was an addict. I just had to stop. I heard my office door click as he unlocked it. He had keys (another bad decision). He walked in. Jesus. He was a walking renaissance painting. He was as volatile and temperamental as Caravaggio too. Years ago as when I’d started as his mentor pretty early on I knew I’d never be able to say no to him. The second he figured it out too, I was finished. He started peeling off his shirt without a word. I fought every urge to fall on my knees and worship him. “We need to talk, we can’t do this anymore. It’s not ok. I take full responsibility for it.” I said nervously. He turned his head, he stared at me with no expression. I’d known him long enough to know that look meant he was furious. He started taking slow steps toward me. A mountain lion locked on its prey. Temptation got the better of me and I started looking him up and down. The black hair, his the shining black eyes, the puckish features, his compact but strong build, all wrapped in his glowing olive skin. He truly was an angel, but then again, so was Lucifer. “Who the fuck do think you’re talking to?” he said angrily. Him being angry at me scared me while making my dick start to swell. “It’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just wrong. I never should have let it happen, people are going to say I’m a groomer or something, and I’ve got a hus—” he reared his arm back and slapped me full force. My fallen angel had a temper. It’s what landed him in my program to begin with. My cheek stung and my eye teared. I was instantly rock hard. “Please we can’t.” I begged. Something crossed his face, his eyes glittered with malice. “Okay. Fine, never again.” He said with a smirk. I felt the pit of my stomach drop. Hearing him say it hurt more than I thought it would. “Okay.” I replied trying to steel my nerves. He slowly started lifting his arm exposing his armpit. “Jesus Christ, please don’t do that.” I said. “What, are you worried? We’re not going to do anything. You want it to stop.” He said. My little devil. The scent hit me, he never wore deodorant or perfume. His natural scent was salty, earthy, and sweet. But his pits… he produced a potent and addictive musk. It’d been getting stronger by the year. Without question I was a slave to his scent. It hit me, all I could do was whimper. Standing an arm’s length away I could smell him, my eyes were rolling back. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m begging for us to stop,” I whined. “It’s weird because you said all that stupid shit, but I’m pretty sure what you were begging for was a little- sniff” he said. “Dante. Please. No. I really can’t it’s so wrong.” I said. “I stopped listening after Dante please,” he said. He quickly undid my pants, I didn’t try to stop him. My dick cartoonishly sprang out at full attention. I was done for. He grabbed it in his iron grip squeezing as hard as he could. I yelped and folded forward, he was waiting with his pit open, my face smashed right into the damp sweaty hair. “Don’t you EVER try a fucking stunt like this again!” He growled. I groaned unable to speak between the pain of his grip and the ecstasy of his scent. “SAY IT!” He yelled. “I’ll never do it again Dante-Dante-Dante please you’re hurting me.” I begged. He gave a final harder squeeze before he let go. I collapsed back into my chair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I got in my head I love you so much please baby I shouldn’t have said anything,” I said completely crumbling. The thought of being away from him made me want to burn the world. I’m sure he knew. He took off his pants and shoes, a concert of rich musky smells filled my office. He straddled me. I could feel the stickiness and heat as he started to push his hole down on me. His eyes staring somewhere deeper down than anyone could reach. “Oh my god, I fucking love you” I whispered. He gave me another slap. Followed by a kiss. He leaned in and whispered in my ear as he pushed all the way down, “That’s right…I am a god.”

[zhongster]

If you're still willing to write for Stardew, can we get some headcanons about... anyone, really?

Oh absolutely dearest, it was actually a burp fic that got me into stardew valley in the first place way back in 2018 (it was about Sebastian and Sam was there too i think??) but for the life of me I haven’t been able to find it again

Anyway here are some headcanons for my personal favorite character: Elliott <3

THIS IS KINK CONTENT, DNI IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT

First of all Elliott is a huge drama queen

He might actually get embarrassed and cry if he burps in front of the farmer early in their relationship

Especially because this man’s burps are NOT small

They are BELCHY every. single. time.

I truly believe he’s such a dark horse and could easily out belch Shane if you give him beer

Wine burps

WINE BURPS GUYS

If he burps and tastes the wine it’s game over he’s like “aaaand that’s enough”

I personally hc him as being from a wealthy old money southern family (that he cut contact with bc they suck) so he has one of those rich people honey-thick southern accents

So i could totally see him full on BELCHING and then bringing a hand to his chest like “oh my lord, pardon me” with that southern drawl

Despite how overdramatic and embarrassed he’d be before he and the farmer start dating/in the early days of their relationship I feel like once he got comfortable he’d pretty much just let them out (within reason) without thinking much about it

If something absolutely wet and vile and disgusting came outta him he’d just cover his mouth with both hands and stand there in shock

I feel like he spends a lot of his time at his desk writing and drinking either red wine or tea (and forgetting to eat) so he ends up with a lot of air in his stomach

He’s very prone to liquid bloating since he does forget to eat and quells his stomach with drinks

He’ll let out some really good ones right there at his desk and just continue writing

Beer really gets his stomach bloated af

He usually avoids it for that reason but on holidays he has been known to indulge

Also Elliott has a surprising amount of kink worthy lines that are actually in the game its kind of insane

One such example:

He has a specific line where he stuffs himself during the winter feast and my brain went haywire with that one

He also definitely loves belly rubs

This is a man that likes to be pampered especially when he has a sore, bloated belly

If and when he and the farmer have children his burps have definitely woken the baby up on numerous occasions

They’re like prime for child-scaring

As in canon, he’s also very prone to hiccups

And the only way he can successfully get them to go away is to hit himself on the chest and try to force up the biggest belch possible

Sometimes he even has to swallow air to do it

I have a very specific image of him in my head letting out these monstrous burps while he fusses with his hair in the mirror

Or while he’s gathering his hair into a ponytail

He’s super casual about it too

Like I don’t think he understands how genuinely massive his burps actually are

He hears them all the time so he’s like??? Desensitized to how loud they are???

So when the farmer’s like “Jesus?!?!?” It takes him a second to be like “OH! OH THAT WAS LOUD I BEG YOUR PARDON” (again with the twang)

here’s a video reference

[bunnii-143]

Kinktober day one: han

So the reason this is important is due to Issac Newtons theory—Hes kinda the god of physics—“ you listen as your tutor, jisung ramble about science…you couldn’t care less. Any worries of passing just melt, as you stare into his thick glasses, blocking the view of his shiny brown boba eyes. it’s annoying how perfect the stereotype stand. “— he became famous after propounding three laws of motion that established a connection between motion-” The only motion you want is him rearranging your guts…your mind wander, his slender hands feeling up your shirt, your lips biting and sucking his  smooth honey skin…”Jesus Christ Y/n do you even want to do well?” He runs a hand through his chestnut brown hair… ”not really. I just wanna pass.” You reply flatly. “then why are you paying to be here? It won’t make you any less of a freak.” He’s gesturing to your clothes. Goth. Ripped fishnets, black leg warmers, a skimpy long sleeved bell top, Jean micro skirt, many necklaces and rings. “Oh yeah,  cause you’re normal.” You reply, your tone dripping in sarcasm. A stereotypical nerd, a collared shirt, sweater vest, dress pants.. “better than you!!” He pouts like a child. “Oh please EVERYBODY knows about your and your anime wifeus.” You say getting dangerously close. His cheeks turn red from both embarrassment and, well, the obsession he’s had on you for months.. Taking screenshots of your post. Every yearbook photo. Everything. You don’t care. And he knows it. You both sit in uncomfortable silence. he suddenly breaks it with “w-well I should leave—“ “oh fucking no you don’t.” You say quickly and beating him to the door and blocking it. You haven’t been pretending to fail science for that long only for it not to work. “We cannot keep tiptoeing around eachother like we don’t care. That’s all I know.” You say, with the first feeling of confidence you’ve had all night. And he turns even redder. He’s embarrassed..he’s so excited. He’s practically buzzing. He smiles brightly and you cock your head at his sudden demeanor change. “You don’t think I’m weird or creepy?” He asks softly. “No.” You reply simply before slowly moving closer. It’s merely a blur after that.. you don’t remember who kissed who. You don’t remember who first ripped whose shirt off, (literally, tore the buttons you did) until you’re left in a Lacey black bra and thong set that could make him come untouched. his boxers. Hugs his growing bulge so tightly. He pulls off your chest where he was leaving hickies, only to shoot you the biggest begging puppy dog face ever. “Y/nnie please sit on my face—y-you won’t crush me! I promise!! Pleaseeee” he whines and you can’t help but nod.. god he just looks like a puppy who just got a bone. he sits himself on the bed, sliding the thong off and throwing it elsewhere (he’ll go find it later, for personal reasons). Laying flat on the bed and forcing you up and to hover over his face.. “are you sure-“ you ask almost hesitantly only for him to force you down onto his face and he starts licking the wetness of your folds almost immediately like a man starved. You whimper softly and reach down to grip his hair.. the room fills with the sounds of his lewd slurping and your moans. before you know it you feel a familiar heat coiling in your stomach, your thighs squishing his head as you feel an orgasm make its way.. you throw your head back and shamelessly grind on his face, his nose nudging your clit each time, causing a loud moan “o-oh fu-fuck ji-ahh…c-coming—o-oh fuck—” you scream softly as you ride out your high on his face, you slow down your grinding but he doesn’t stop. Still slurping up your release like it’s the first and last thing he’ll ever have again. You whine as the sting of overstimulation hits you full tilt.. and his grip loosens on your hips and you lift yourself up with shaky legs…panting and covered in a sheer sweat, Hes licking ever last drop of your release off his lips…you try to move off and he smiles. “Awww, you think we’re done?”

[hel-phoenyx]

Meili belongs to @azeler

You know sometimes when you're the golden child of a damn bougie family with monthly meetings with other right-wingers factories, you don't have much choice but to go.

Plus the evening was at the folks so I didn't have much choice. Mom explicitely told me that if I wasn't there I would get a cut on my allowance, and sadly I still depend on them to get by. Plus, I couldn't let Kriss alone. She needs someone to defend her when they start insulting her husband or try to turn the kid against them.

So I went. And it went as I expected. Profundly boring, full of racist, misogynist and homophobic upper-middle class fuckers, with at least good tasting alcohol. I would rather have been anywhere else but here, but you know, getting hammered on high-quality champagne does have its perks.

And Meili was there so the evening wasn't completely lost. I asked him if his parents forced him, but he told me he came on his own accord. Yeah right. For the sake of our friendship I'm not gonna believe that.

I don't remember much about the evening per se. Like I said, getting hammered with expensive alcohol does have its perks. But I do recall some games between the men, an argument started between Kriss and my uncle about how she chooses to dress the kid (a pink shirt. Oh the blasphemy.) and Meili joining in, but not in the side I was hoping for.

Him, too, was completely hammered. Usually he keeps silent on the matters when I'm here. Probably because last time I almost cursed his whole family out and was very close to hitting him with the prosthesis.

Back to the matter at hand.

Of course I started shit. Of course I told him that the color of a kid's shirt is none of his business and he shouldn't care that much about clothing. When we brought the argument to a secluded room, I even told him that him of all people should know about what turns kids gay and it certainly wasn't the existence of pink in a toddler's life.

That may or may not have played a role in the reason why I am now waking up naked and with my bed absolutely not empty.

More may than may not.

I look to my right. Back hurts, I have a hangover bigger than my future, and some of my muscles feel sore even though I was supposed to get a good night of sleep. And, of course, as if I wasn't having enough problems, Meili is asleep next to me.

Gr-eat. Like I needed to fuck a friend that is not even aware he's not straight and is starting to drift apart from us because he's on the pipeline. This is not at all gonna be messy.

Not. At. All.

Nooooooooooooo.

Gods above my head hurts. I better get my hangover special case in the nightstand. Paracetamol and water, some sugar to have a little kick, or a bottle of rhum to suppress the hangover in another way if needed.

Yes, I may be an alcoholic. No, I have other problems to care for before trying to fully sober. Therapist is fuming but I really can't deal with withdrawal in the middle of a thesis.

Jesus fuck, the more I wake up and the more I remember. I would rather bury that with the rest, but the heat of his body is still gripping to my skin. I hate how soft it feels. It shouldn't.

Anyway. Can't get drunker in that situation, so I take the medicine and the water and waits for it to take effect. And put on something. Ironic of me to say that considering what booze made me do, but I really don't wanna have this conversation naked.

As I reach my shirt, that of course was thrown very far away, I hear something move on my bed, and a bedhead lifts from the pillow.

"What the hell..."

"Morning, sleeping beauty," I sigh, mentally bracing myself. "Before you ask, no, I don't remember the specifics of what we've done last night, but I guess you can get the whole picture."

He blinks. Look at his naked body. Covered in burns and scars. Gods I still remember how they felt under my fingers. Damn brain.

And then he turns his head towards me, eyes full of an unidentifyable yet extremely strong negative emotion. Hey, I am a diagnosed autistic since I got into the PhD, I can't identify feelings easily.

"What the hell, Tyrfing ?!"

"Using the full name, how brutal. I guess you're not very happy, either."

Can't show how badly it hurts. Can't show my name in his mouth stings like a blade. Is it really so bad that you stopped being my friend ?

He looks at his body frantically, run his hands on it, on the scars, on the skin, with the panic of a man that can feel the memories. Before searching for his shirt that I recall throwing far away in my room.

I turn around while he gets out of bed and grabs his clothing. Don't need to add to the embarassment, especially considering he has to put on his prosthesis first.

"... What did you do to me ?!"

And here it starts.

I roll my eyes.

"We were two for that, idiot. I may have been drunk but I remember you jumping on my bones first."

"Yeah right. You must have done something. I'm not gay, asshole."

Was expecting this, but still, sure took a hit.

Calm. Be nice. I know more than anyone his kind of upbringing fucks people up. I can't show how bad the looks of contempt feel right now.

That's my friend, goddamnit. I don't usually fuck my friends, yes, but still, I don't need that to completely ruin our relationship. He's on a dark path. He needs people that can help.

And I need my friend, too.

"Meili, can you please try to not insult me while you're panicking ? What's done is done."

"... And I'm trying to process, jeez ! For the last time-"

Not gay, yes. I know. If I was really mean, I would throw in your face how you looked at Kaizarz, back then. I can't forget the longing on your face. It made me so fucking pissed at the time, one more reason added to the rivalry. Today it just makes me melancholic.

Finally, he takes a deep breath, finishes dressing up. I guess he feels a bit better now that I can't see the scars, now that he thinks he look normal.

"Feeling better ?"

He looks at me. Looks at his body.

"That was a one-time thing."

"Glad we're on the same page."

"I'm not-"

"Not gonna argue with you on this one."

He stays silent a long time. Sighs.

"We're not mentionning that to the others. Ever."

I expected as much. I too, am perfectly content with burying that far, far away in my mind and act like that night ever existed. Plus, if I say one single world about now knowing Meili's body in a more intimate way than anyone I know, I would never hear the end of this, I know Domi would have at least three new jokes a day. Without talking about Kriss.

Yeah.

Perfectly content with that.

It doesn't feel heavy at all.

[maddestmewmew]

HI IF ANY FNAF FANS ARE READING THIS THE TAGS ARE HERE FOR BLOCKLIST NOT FOR. TRYING TO REACH FNAF FANS…THERES NO HATE UNDER THE CUT ITS JUST ME BEING REALLY FUCKING CONFUSED ABT FNAF LORE

ok now thats out of the way. JESUS CHRIST have i just entered a fucking. rabbit hole?? OH MY GOD??? i was a massive fnaf fan in my preteen years, as was everyone ever in the 2010s..ive dialed back my enjoyment of it, ill watch playthroughs of the mainline games and ive seen the movie but thats kind of it. this being relevent bc i watched an into the pit playthrough, and then saw some tweets about it. MOST of them i understood, until i hit a tweet talking abt some kid named andrew?? and how hes not an sci??? and i was like Hold On. maybe its been some years but i cant be THAT behind can i. i know all the important names..michael afton and cassidy and charlie and what have you..

so i look up the wiki for this kid andrew, and it leads me to a story about a ghost kid attatching himself to william aftons spirit and torturing him and shit. i was a bit confused bc like. isnt that cassidys thing? but Whatevs. also the stories seemed weirdly bizzare to me, like not in a hateful way but like. why is william afton getting an exorcism. anyway it brings up a couple (A LOT) of names i dont understand, but what my brain latches onto is this kid jake, who is described as forcing andrew to Stop torturing english willy, at the cost of Now Hes Stuck Possessing An Endoskeleton. okayyy this is fnaf to me. i didnt know this but its abt what i expect from five nights at freddys.

so i head to jakes wiki out of curiosty, and find out he is from, no joke, one of the most fucking depressing stories ive ever read? i dont mean in terms of fnaf, i mean, FUCKING EVER. JESUS. CHRIST.

its like. in the middle of a fazbear frights book. fazbear frights being these scary stories to tell in the dark type books where its collections of spoooky stories that will shape the minds of children everywhere, but like. fnaf themed.

this story is called “the real jake” and i Highly reccomend you read the wiki instead of hearing it from me like. fourth hand. like im retelling a retelling here. but if you want that ultra telephone sypnosis, here you go:

“the real jake” follows a nine year old boy who is bedridden. with cancer. his mother is dead and his father is overseas. jake is taken care of full time by a nanny, margie.

jake likes to talk with a boy in his cupboard, named simon, who is really his father over the phone, through a walkie talkie. at first, jake and “simon” talk about what jake has done that day, but jake cannot leave his bed, so jake gets frustrated that all his stories are so mundane and depression. so one day simons like, okay, tell me what the REAL jake has done. and its a little game of pretend, where jake tells these silly little stories about what the “real jake” did that day. one day, jakes friend tries to get him to sneak out to go to the arcade, and tries to get him there by dragging him in a wagon, but jake is too weak to make it to make it to the wagon and collapses and throws up, and he explains to margie he wanted to be the real jake for a day.

at some point jake and margie are playing chess, and jake gets super frustrated that he cant see straight. margie calms him down and jake tells her that he loves her, causing margie to break down, and then she Later Finds Out The Doctors Are Ceasing Treatment For Him, which makes margie realize she loves jake as a son.

AND THEN MARGIE GETS THE CALL THAT JAKES FATHER WAS FUCKING KILLED. and she has full custody of jake. she cant bring herself to tell him his father died, so she says simon wont be able to visit for a while.

AND THEN JAKE FUCKING DIES.

AND THAT IS IT. THAT IS THE END OF THE STORY . THEY JUST MOVE ON AFTER THAT. HOLY FUCK??? IMAGINE BEING LIKE 9 AND PICKING UP THE LATEST FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDYS BOOK AT THE SCHOOLASTIC BOOK FAIR AND THEN READING A STORY ABOUT A LITTLE BOY COPING WITH HIS CANCER AND THEN FUCKING DYING ALONE. FREDDY FAZBEAR WASNT EVEN THERE.

[kusundei]

i cant i feel sick. sick sick sick im fucking sick and idk what to do i feel sooo sosoo dramatic. plus im not even like ALONE i cant do anything his mom is right in front of me this is mortifying??? i just like cant stop shaking and i feel heavy. like i feel the weight of my body and its making me evil. i just cant stop thinking about it and in trying to rationalize. im okay its okay he’ll come back??? i left too. i knew he was going to go. i knew staying wt his house for as long as i did was goinf to kill me once i went back. i knew i knew i knew. i know and yet its still as bad as it is despite how much ive thought about it. i thought ifnoring it would save me or acknowledging it and prepping dor it would but nope. not saving me. making it worse.

Its just everythint thats happened these past few weeks keep replaying in my head and its like jesus chrisr. what the fuck im never getting this back? the time i spejt wirh him these past few weeks r probabky somethijg i will not experience again. at least not for a long time and not to this extent. being with him for that long keeps reminding me of how much i cant like? function? without him? its weird like of course i can function. but i shut down as a person. im not. happy. i dont think. its just it really occurred to me last night and i still feel awful i didnt finish his hw. if i have time i’ll do it and ask him dor his like login and turn it in for him but no i sat there for a while and just. it was tfb. i know it was they make ne EVIL i just kept remembering oh hes leaving. in a few hours. i did not want to sleep. couldnt. but i couldnt be evil either because i cant do that to him??? its so hypocriticalcbut its just like no he was already crying earlier i cant worry him like that. im nonchalant…… though i know he knew its just like. im okay enough. i know i couldve cried last night. not saying i didnt i did jusr a little. held myself in front of the fan cause i was forcing myself to be cold to stay awake and then just. idk. prevented me from crying i think? its just i laid with him and i kept thinking. oh this is the last time ill lay with him like rhis for q while. to sleep here w him. kiss him and just be in the same space and be simple and go out late at night and talk about random shit and not get wnything done and just be. to exist. it makes me sick. why cant i keep playing house forever? but no fuck that i dojt want to PLAY house i want to live it. i think truly these past few weeks may have made me selfish. at my core i know how i am and he says it all the time but you give me an inch ill take a mile ? or something along those lines its nust like . i cant? ive been shown something. given an opportunity. a life for a short amt of time incwhich i finally felt okay consistently? without feeling condemned? sick? evil? not saying it wouldnt happen every once in a while. of course it did i just sorta pushed it away because im taking in all the time i spent w gim and basking in that instead. i just keep thinkijg of how i mustve taken it for granted and not appreciated it enough maybe.

i know ill get back home and feel it again. it’ll hit me in full swing because ik myself. ill sit in my room and reqlise just where i am. how my life is and i cant escape the life ive been given. my circumstances and my life and everything i know i cant escape that. i cant escape my mom at least not for a long time and rhats the thing that weighs me down the most. im just tryijg to truly fight the feeling till i get home ? i wont tweak fully till i do. i know i will though. ive been fighting the same (ish) tweak for the past few weeks. i knew and i know. where i want to be still seems a thousand miles away ^_^ and pretendijg we feel safe right here gets harder everyday …. Heh. heheh. heh. i cant

[professorspork]

Any chance you'd actually want to do a breakdown of the writing and literary techniques you used in Newsbees? Any excerpt of your choice honestly, I'm always curious about how other writers think about their own work

A) I just want to say that what truly delights me is that this hit my inbox last night, a full 12 hours before the epilogue was posted (and contained within it a request for asks just like this). Way to read my mind! It made me happy!

B) Oh gosh this is so broad WHAT SHOULD I TALK ABOUT

okay after much dithering, using an online dice-rolling tool to pick a chapter to talk about and then being like 'this tool didn't pick the right chapter' I am going to talk about chapter 12, aka the romance novel bed-sharing one right before everything goes to shit.

Before we begin, you'll note that I still insist on calling a wolf at your door chapter 12 even though on AO3 it's chapter 13. I get why for coding reasons AO3 probably can't support calling a prologue "chapter zero" because something like 0/21+ is not a helpful chapter count in the same way 1/23 is but still the discrepancy chafes and I'm glad people have mostly indulged me on this point.

ANYWAY

Firstly, I'll point out that the chapter bears all of the usual hallmarks of what I know defines my prose and which I lean into with some degree of purpose. To pick a portion from the section on Blake's panic attack as an example:

She sinks shakily to the tile and curls into a ball to cry. After hours of gripping onto what remained of her sense with white-knuckled desperation, forcing herself to at least dissociate long enough to find a place to get out of the storm, she can’t fight it any more. Every single emotion she’s been barely keeping at bay—the powerlessness, the fear, the self-hatred, the sorrow—crashes through her all at once, bulldozing the fragile internal structures she’d relied upon to stay upright until there’s nothing inside her but splinters and wreckage.

It’s over. It’s over.

Gods, why won’t she fucking stop crying?

She bites down on her fist—anything to quiet the violent, hiccuping sobs that are wracking her lungs and depriving her of much-needed air—but it’s no use. You’ll wake everyone up, shut up, shut up, you stupid, sloppy bitch shut up.

Inane. Infantile.

Pathetic.

She has no idea how long she stays there, blubbering on the shower floor like a toddler. Time stretches like taffy, malleable and meaningless. She weeps until she’s empty; until even the derogatory, incisive shame is gone and only her hollow husk is left. And then…

…ever so slowly…

…cognizance creeps back in.

Apparently, she’s shivering.

The air in Yang’s apartment, which had felt near-stifling upon Blake’s arrival, is now crisp and biting against her clammy skin.

Gee, can you tell I like alliteration? In just this singular 226-word excerpt, there are eight uses of it (sinks/shakily; stupid/sloppy; inane/infantile; time/taffy; malleable/meaningless; hollow/husk; cognizance/creeps; crisp/clammy)-- and that number goes up, even, if you count incidental usage like 'with white-knuckled' or 'been barely.'

As I've matured as a writer I've shied away from prose that's florid just for prettiness' sake, but I do still indulge in this sort of... lyrical, tone-poem narration, especially in moments of great introspection or emotional import, as Blake's breakdown certainly is. All my writing-- not just dialogue-- is something I both hear and listen for, and the cadence and rhythm of the sentences is something I will tweak over and over and over again throughout the editing process until I'm satisfied with its flows and eddies. This is why I'll often use entirely unnecessary em-dashes to indicate breaths and pauses; to me, that sort of mouthfeel of the phrasing is just as important as the vocabulary is. Alliteration is a great way to get at that sort of smooth, elevated and heightened affect without being too conspicuous; my hope is that no one actually noticed "jesus christ there are eight alliterative pairs in this one half-page's worth of writing" until I pointed it out. It's... a flavor, a seasoning, that provides a bit of lift.

This excerpt also provides a few examples of another favorite thing of mine, which is pairing TWO adjectives for specificity's sake (and that sort of breathing meter). Blake's sobs could have been violent or hiccuping instead of both, but using both gives their brutality and physical embodiment emphasis; time being both malleable and meaningless shows two different facets of the sort of warping she's experiencing; her shame being both derogatory and incisive gets at how it hits both emotionally/verbally and internally/physically. (That's twice there I've said how I want the words to feel physical, to put you in Blake's shoes, and that's also very much a hallmark of my writing and this work specifically. There's a reason Blake throws up or nearly throws up so many times in this story, including in this chapter. I wanted her anxiety to feel LIVED IN, this toxic thing that her body literally has to reject and expel any way it can.)

The last thing this excerpt has that I want to remark upon is an incredibly considered simile-- how Blake's panic attack "crashes through her all at once, bulldozing the fragile internal structures she’d relied upon to stay upright until there’s nothing inside her but splinters and wreckage." I think it's always a worthwhile project to come up with metaphors that haven't been used a thousand times, because readers deserve novelty and forethought, but I really considered how I wanted to portray her feelings here. In other chapters, I compare Blake's panic/trauma to a treacherous ocean filled with dangerous creatures, or to a runaway train; Yang, of course, gets her big moment where she feels like a volcano. All of these things are scary and unpleasant, but they are so in radically different ways. Whereas the ocean metaphor is sort of all about depth and playing the long game, getting dragged under and the process of erosion, I wanted this one to be sudden and impactful. The first thing I came up with was a tornado, but that a) felt a little tired to me and b) still came from the natural world, which didn't feel quite right. The sort of manmade, architectural language I ended up going with reinforced far better the point I was making: that Blake built and constructed her sense of calm purposefully, and it was now being torn down by someone else's violent efforts.

PHEW okay I think that's enough talking about that one small section.

Overall, the chapter also contains a lot of the sorts of tricks and modes I relied on throughout the fic-- playing around with time, explicitly referencing callbacks to earlier in the story, the Adam that lives in Blake's head. This chapter is also, of course, the debut of The Font, which was really fun for me. Blake falling asleep instantly in Yang's bed after two dozen chapters of how bad her insomnia is was a payoff that had been in the outline from the earliest stages. The Hug is both important in its own right but also a reference to yet another musical, Waitress ("I hope someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight..."). Seeing as this is a Newsies adaptation, I wanted it to feel in many ways LIKE A MUSICAL-- to have those big, bold feelings-- but the one thing Newsies isn't is a romance, and I found myself thinking often of love songs from other shows to sort of fill in those gaps. That could honestly be its own post so I won't get into it more now, lol.

OKAY MY GOODNESS THIS IS GETTING LONG I'M GONNA CUT IT OFF THERE. But I hope that was interesting for folks, and if so PLEASE ASK ME MORE QUESTIONS I LOVE QUESTIONS.

[sleepy-achilles]

I’m really looking forward to hearing more about the Leon/Shawn murder thing. Always love more FoD content!

I've had the day off because of illness and said I'd do asks.

Boy was I wrong. Anyways, this I can do.

Obviously a warning that murder does happen.

Leon's happens to be the only consistent one in my Canon of things.

Like Papa, Like Son

Paul raises his mic as Leon turns to face him. Shawn doesn't have to see Leon's face to know his eyes are laced with panic. "Well well well, the Michaels! Once again at each others throats!" Paul chuckles. Cassie frowns at the big man. "Which is quite ironic with what I've found out!" Paul adds. "I mean, you'd think two of ya being murderers would bring you together, not tear you apart"

------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn was sick and tired of all this fighting. He wants to go home. He leans against the ring post as the fighting continues. Taker steps closer to John, causing Leon to step between them. Taker goes to speak when kanes music suddenly hits. Shawn glances to see kanes not alone. That's when his full attention turns to the ramp as Paul and kane stand there all smug.

"What?" Taker and John both blurt out. Leon and Shawn immediately tense. Shawn moves from the corner. "Obviously he's on about you and kane. Cmon now" cassie huffs. Leon works his jaw as Paul continues to ramble. Ramble about anything unrelated to the bombshell he just dropped.

Shawns mind races, how does he know?

Leon can't hell but chew his lower lip. How does he know?

------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn presses his back against the old wooden door. His heart racing, sweat dripping down his forehead, his hands clammy as he grips the cross tightly in his hands. "Please please please" he whimpers bringing the cross to his chest, careful to keep the sharp end away from his skin. "Please don't do this" Shawn whimpers as the banging begins at the door. "Open the door Shawn!" The oh so familiar voice yells.

Shawn, on his 16th birthday, was about to do the first thing to traumatise himself.

The door begins to splinter beneath his back. He moves away from the door.

The older man bursts through the door, shotgun heavy in hand. "Oh shawnnnn" the man sings as he aims the gun around the small room. "You may be able to run boy but you sure as hell can't hide from me" he growls. "Sorry" a small voice whimpers. The older man let's out a pained gasp as the shotgun falls from his hands. Shawn keeps pushing the cross, ignoring every crunch, until its sticking out the other side of the mans chest.

Shawn then let's out his own gasp as he stumbles back, falling onto his behind, hands shaking and tears filling his eyes.

He just killed a man. A man who was going to kill him. But that wasn't the point.

Infact. None of this was important, he had to escape. And had to escape now.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn forces himself to wipe his eyes. Jesus he needs to calm down. Everyone thinks it's kane and taker.

Then it hits Shawn. If its not kane and taker...who is it?

Then his eyes land on Leon. The only other tense and panicked person in the ring.

Shawns eyes widen slightly.

"No.." Shawn whispers.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Leon's hands shake as the man looms over his friend. The room is dark and damp. They had to be in there for atleast four hours. The man had grabbed them on their way home from school. Well, it wasn't really a grabbing until they were lured into the basement.

Valentina shakes behind Leon. "Please Dan!" Val cries. "Enough girl!" Dan yells. "I knew I shoulda just killed you" Dan growls at Matthew, knife in hand. "Youll die first." Matt states. Leon's eyes widen. He looks around the room when it hits him. The broken phone wire. Matt broke it within their first hour. "And you think you can kill me?" Dan asks. "I can't. But he can" Matt smirks. "Wha-" Dan gets caught off guard by a wire around the neck. It causes him to drop the knife to reach the wire.

Leon ducks, grabbing the knife as Dan pulls the wire away. "Oh you bra-" Val covers her mouth as Leon stabs the man. Matt moves to her and turns her away, and yet he can't help but watch as Leon repeatedly stabs the man over and over in the chest, until well, there's no chest left. "Leon! Enough!" Matt barks. Leon shakes as he drops the knife. He falls off the body and scoots back until he's against the damp dirty wall.

His breathing is heavy, his eyes wide and full of panic. Matt notices it immediately. "Lee, we need to go. Fix ourselves up. The snatcher is dead! No more kids will die, now cmon!" Matt snaps grabbing Leon's arm. "H..how do I explain this to mama?" Val whispers. "You don't. Fuck, your future step dad just stops turning up, it's fine. If anything she'll put two and two together when the snatcher stops turning up, now cmon!" Matt barks.

Leon stares back as they are pulled up the stairs.

12 years old and they just murdered a man. A bad man.

But it was still a life they've taken.

Even if it was them or him.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Leon looks at shawn knowingly.

Shawn can't help but nervously chuckle.

Damn, they really were like papa, like son, weren't they?

[ramblinganthropologist]

Fictober 24 - 22 and 23

Summary: Grunt's going through that special time in a young krogan's life where he just needs to kill something. Time to visit Tuchanka and the Shepard's recurring nightmare. Does killing a thresher maw count as exposure therapy?

---

He knew that Tuchanka was kind of a nuclear waste site, but… damn, hearing about it and actually being ass deep in it were two different things.

“Why are we doing this again?”

Bo’s tone was as flat as the planet itself as they glanced around the battle strewn ground. The remains of varren and klixen littered the arena, shot or blown to pieces by a combination of weapons and biotic ability. They had been tough, but possible.

“Because your son needed a puberty ritual to keep from killing everyone.” Alistair’s tone was just as dry as he reloaded his gun – he had found some ammo stashed away by a past participant. “And we were the only ones who could fill in as his krantt.”

He should’ve expected that much from Wrex after touching down planetside, but to be actually thrown into the ritual as a (willing?) participant was a completely separate matter. Bo he could see, but him? He wasn’t exactly krogan material, or so the many residents of the planet had sneered at him while he passed.

Bo was ok – she had headbutted someone to prove herself. He didn’t have the forehead for it.

“Shepard, hit the keystone so we can finish this.” Grunt was still sounding grumpy, but the look in his eye was enough to know he was ready for more. Hell, he seemed to be enjoying the carnage. Once again, not surprising – his hormones were probably at an all time high at that point – but it was still something that gave him pause.

Also, he might’ve been a little jealous. Second puberty was a long way off for him…

“Alright, get ready for whatever’s coming next.” He approached the console, the green button glowing amid the dust and fog. Soon his gauntlet was smashing against it, beginning what would hopefully be the last round.

Immediately, the ground began to shake in a way he knew all too well.

“Fuck, don’t tell me-“ Bo’s voice was tight. “Aw, fuck.”

Grunt was practically giddy as he took cover. “Feel that? Everything is shaking. I’m ready!”

His voice echoed that of the speaker, blaring the final message into the destroyed arena. “Now all krogan bear the genophage, our reward, our curse. It is a fight where the only goal is survival!”

Oh, he did not like the sound of that. If a krogan had to strive to survive, his gut was telling him it could be only one thing.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you’re all insane.”

His voice was drowned out by the cracking of ground as a specter from his nightmares began to writhe its way out of the ground. He ducked behind a pillar, heart pounding out of his chest as a cold sweat poured down his forehead.

A thresher maw. They had a fucking thresher maw.

“Finally, an opponent worth fighting!”

Grunt, ever eager, was already firing at it before it had even gotten its top half on the surface. Memory told Alistair all that would do was waste ammo. Bo was of a similar mind – she remained crouched in her hiding space, hands tight around her weapon. He thought he saw a shake, but that might’ve been from the seismic force of the maw rising.

“Grunt, don’t shoot at it until you see the mouth!”  He could only hope the hormone addled krogan could hear him. Their opponent – if he could even call it that – was taking its time to fully rise. Was it toying with them? The thought chilled his blood, but all he could do was wait.

At least his nephew stopped firing.

A few pregnant seconds passed, and then the roar started. Alistair caught the pincers waving in the air as the thresher maw emerged from the soil, bringing with it its terrible namesake, and rising high above their heads. He could only imagine it was at full power – when was the last time they had done this?

If only some other young, dumb krogan had weakened its armor first…

“Now shoot the damn thing!” Bo practically roared as she opened fire, emptying a clip almost immediately. Grunt followed suit, and soon Alistair was shooting as well. All the while, he watched for the sign he still saw in his nightmares.

Just like it did when he dreamed, it reared back.

“Take cover, it’s going to spit!”

He ducked even further behind the column he was hiding behind, heart pounding. The thresher maw reared back and spit a volley at acid towards them, sizzling with its potency. It hit his cover and began to drip down as it dissolved the metal, puddling at his feet. It was at that point that Alistair risked running to a nearby pile of collapsed wall, mind going blank as memories of Akuze flooded through him.

At least as he skidded into safety, he got to keep both his eyes. Even better, they got a second to breathe as the creature burrowed beneath the surface of Tuchanka, hiding from any further attacks.

“Al, we gotta hit it with biotics, our guns are doing shit to it!” Bo’s voice screamed into his earpiece, and he knew she was right. Biotics had been the only thing to save them back when their unit had perished, and even then it had been close.

Still, it was the only thing left.

“Hit it on three with your best shot! It’s going to surface again soon!”

Alistair could feel the energy bubbling beneath his skin. Unlike when he used barriers, his offensive abilities had a different tingle to them – almost unpleasant, as if his body wasn’t really built for it. But it didn’t matter – a barrier wasn’t going to help them then.

The maw could spit through it anyway – the scars he bore until he died were proof of that.

Thanks to their time together, there was no need to count aloud. Instead, Alistair and Bo unleashed their attacks simultaneously when the thresher maw popped out of the ground again. The air vibrated and pulsed as she released her shockwave, the attack thundering towards the creature with a rush of energy.

Meanwhile, his reave shot out at the same time, leaving his fingers tingling. Both hit the maw at about the same time, knocking it back and causing its armor to sizzle. As it did, his body felt lighter as the healing properties took effect, restoring his flagging strength by a small degree. There had to be some irony he took healing from a thresher maw, but his mind was reeling too much to make the connection.

Unsurprisingly, it burrowed under the ground again. Apparently, it didn’t like being hit.

“Shepard, you weakened it!” Grunt didn’t clarify who he was speaking to then, but it didn’t matter. Alistair had spent enough time studying thresher maws from the footage of Akuze to know it was a little slower, its armor pitted from the dual attack.

If they hit it with some cryo ammo while they waited for their energy to recharge, they could take it down.

Luckily, Bo was on the same wavelength. He heard the click as she shifted ammo, waiting for it to emerge. Grunt did the same, switching to his backup concussive shot. Unfortunately for him, he was the only one without special ammunition. It was just him and his gun, doing the best it could to keep up with the big guys.

“It’s coming!”

Bo was right on the credits. With another roar, the creature emerged south of their position, leaving them out in the open. The mother-son duo opened fire immediately, sprinting for cover as they shot at the maw. Alistair scrambled for new cover as well, emptying his clip as he slid into safety once more.

The thresher maw roared as parts of its body froze and was blown open at the same time. It was bleeding now, no doubt painting the ground with whatever it had inside it. Yet it still wasn’t dead as it writhed.

But it was getting there. One good shockwave and reave combo would be enough if they hit it in the right spot.

“Aim for the biggest hole, we can tear it in half!” Alistair grit his teeth as he prepared what would hopefully be his final offense. His head was swimming, but it didn’t matter. That thing was going to die if he had to fire himself into a coma.

Bo nodded, and soon she was glowing. Once again, there was no need for a countdown – they fired on a mix of instinct and training. Their paired attacks raced out towards the maw, catching it in its newly made weak point.

It screamed, and the blood flowed anew. Then it hit the ground hard enough to rattle his bones and nearly knock him off his feet. His heart skipped a beat, almost afraid it would spit again and take them all out. But then it disappeared beneath the surface with a final scream.

A few pregnant seconds passed… then nothing.

It was dead.

“Holy shit, we killed it.”

Bo had outright awe in her voice, and he had to admit he felt the same. Still, something didn’t feel right in the arena. Though there was no blinking button telling of a fourth round, the ground was soon covered in shadow.

It was a shuttle coming in.

“Good, we have company. I want more.”

Clearly, Grunt wasn’t exercising those hormones as much as Alistair had hoped. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he watched Uvenk and his men make it groundside. From their short encounter, he hadn’t liked the guy and seeing him there didn’t help matters.

“I swear, if he gets any closer.” Bo cocked her gun. “I still got ammo.”

Alistair held up his hand. “Maybe we can fix this, I know we can.”

He wasn’t sure why he had said that – maybe part of him had worried they had done something wrong by killing the thresher maw. After all, their objective had only been to survive the beast. Killing it was out of mission parameters.

Besides, they probably didn’t have an extra lying around… at least, he hoped not.

Uvenk approached, armed. Not a good sign. “You live, and you brought down the thresher maw. No one has done that in generations. Urdnot Wrex was the last.”

Leave it to Wrex to pull something like that off…

“My krantt gave me strength beyond my genes. Which are damned good.”

Grunt naturally had to fire back. Alistair had to wonder if he was only referring to half of his krantt there, but instead he checked his ammo to make sure he had enough to get through whatever was coming. After all, Uvenk hadn’t come alone. There were more than a few armored krogan making up his krantt, and they didn’t look friendly.

“What the fuck do you want Uvenk? We did your damn ritual.”

Bo had never been one to stand on ceremony – spit on it was more her style. Alistair didn’t have the energy to groan at that point. His biotics were recharging anyway, slower than usual thanks to his sugar dropping.

At least keep him talking until they were fully restored, jeez…

“He is a mistake, but a powerful one.” Uvenk shifted to Grunt. “His presence could shift the balance of the clans.”

Even from where he was standing, he could see his nephew bristle. “You spit on my father’s name, and on Shepards’! But now you stop ranting because I’m strong?”

“There would be restrictions. You could not breed. But you would be clan in name.”

Wow, what a generous offer. No doubt it came with plenty of other stipulations. Uvenk didn’t seem the giving type.

“It’s your call, Grunt, but I think you’re getting a raw deal.”  

His voice carried with the wind, but it was enough that the young krogan could hear it. Unsurprisingly, he had his fingers on the trigger and wasn’t about to let go. Apparently, he had made up his mind.

Just what he needed – a fight with krogan as a palate cleanser against a living nightmare. This ritual was just the gift that kept on giving.

---

Well, at least it was over.

Grunt knelt before the shaman, accepting his blessing. The other krogan had gathered around, already whispering about their feats on the battlefield. If the old one was to be believed, their names were about to live on in glory.

“Grunt, you are Urdnot. You may now own property, join the army, and apply to serve under a battlemaster.”

The young krogan picked up his head. “Shepard is my battlemaster.”

He had the feeling it was Bo Peep Shepard there. It was fair – she was the ideal of a non-krogan krogan.

Things petered out after that. Grunt got a new gun to go with his new name, and they were given leave to head back to the Normandy. Alistair was more than happy to leave Tuchanka behind as he trudged behind mother and son, both in high spirits.

“You did good, Grunt.”

“Heh, I know. You weren’t bad yourself, Shepard.”

Briefly, he glanced behind. “You either, Shepard. Didn’t know you had attacks in that puny body.”

“Gotta have something to get through basic.” Alistair rotated his shoulder – reave took it out of him. “Congrats, Urdnot Grunt.”

It was a good name for him, especially considering he was connected to Wrex. If anyone could steer the young krogan right, it would be him. Hell, the whole planet could use him as it sorted itself out.

Tuchanka was in good hands with him.

“Shepard, reports are coming in. Grunt has received multiple breeding requests.”

EDI’s electronic voice carried as they approached the Normandy. That only made the krogan even more pleased with himself, and it showed in how he walked. He deserved it after everything that had happened, even if it sounded a little weird.

“That a boy.” Bo slapped him in the side. “Just wait until after we save the galaxy, though. Gotta make it a safer place for your kids.”

Grunt seemed to sulk at that but nodded. “I won’t have much time for that if I’m following you around anyway.”

The AI wasn’t finished, however. Her voice carried into all their earpieces. “Also, three breeding requests have been received for Commander Bo Peep Shepard.”

…

Ok, he wasn’t even sure how that worked honestly. Had they come from horny male krogan wanting to see if human-krogan fusion was possible, or were they from eager lesbians in the crowd who had found attraction after her feats?

Did krogan have lesbians? They probably did… didn’t they hang out in all female groups?

Bo snorted at that. “If they’re women, it’ll be a maybe.”

“Unfortunately, they are all from male krogan citing her strength and capabilities.” Alistair swore he could hear Joker snickering in the background at that. “Finally, one breeding request has come in for Commander Alistair Shepard.”

That got him to freeze in place.

Grunt snorted with mirth at that, and Bo wasn’t much better. “Are you serious? Him?”

“One female krogan has requested him specifically for his biotics.”

  It was a good thing EDI couldn’t find amusement in that, because his face turned blood red under his helmet. Then his arm began to ache dully as Bo needled him in it with her elbow, the armor just making things worse.

“Hey, at least she has taste.”

“I don’t know whether to be confused considering I’m not exactly prime krogan material, or slightly euphoric that she thinks I can.” It was a little of column A, a little of column B. “Unfortunately, it’s going to be a no from me.”

Bo snorted again. “That’ll break her heart for sure. Where will she find another twink on Tuchanka?”

“Wherever your boys find their new girlfriend, maybe. It’s a big planet.”

No doubt Joker was loving this. He could hear the man chuckling as they stepped onto the Normandy and entered the airlock for decontamination. Grunt was definitely enjoying himself with his new name and new gun, so at least somebody was happy.

Maybe he’d finally be able to calm down to his previous levels of homicidal eagerness.

Still, one thought stuck in Alistair’s mind as they entered the Normandy and headed to their gear lockers. As he started to remove his helmet, he turned to face his sister.

“Hey, do you think killing a thresher maw counts as exposure therapy?”

Bo shot him a blank look as she stripped off her gauntlets. “I have no fucking clue, why?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Because I haven’t done my therapy homework yet.”

That got him launched across the bay, but at least he didn’t crash into anything. It had been worth it, just to see the look on her face. At any rate, he was going to argue it counted when he next met with his therapist.

After all, he had been spat at. According to Dr. Hunter, that was kind of a trauma point for him. But he could work on the specifics later. Right then, all he wanted to do was collapse in bed and hope he didn’t have to go back to Tuchanka anytime soon.

Next time, he was just going to take Garrus’ suggestion and drop Grunt off at Omega. Any sort of disease would be worth it compared to a thresher maw. Well… almost any. Krogans could get some nasty stuff between the genophage and their four testicles.

Did Dr. Chakwas even have the antibiotics for that? Probably not… so maybe the maw was the  safer choice.

…

Funny how those things work out sometimes.

[sometimesanalice]

LOOK AT THEMMMM 😍😍😍

Oh I am OBSESSED!! They are so cute! This is the prequel I didn’t know I needed, and everything I could have ever wanted!!

I am so soft for them! And the giddiness of this sent me a tizzy! 💖

More for youuuuu!

So, you'd made one last ditch attempt on Hinge, liking some guys who were way out of your league - before telling Max he had the go-ahead to set you up with his buddy.— screaming, dying, crying. Thinking about the AU fic and how in every timeline they’d find each other one way or another 💖😭🥰 but also my girl those men would be PUNCHING UP that’s for damn sure! I want to hug her.

Oh. It was this one - the pretty one. Bradley.— he’s so pretty! He’s so smart! He’s got a 7.5 inch ——

one with an older guy who was probably his dad- THATS HIS DAD THATS HIS DAD

and one where his eyes looked like pools of chocolate- 🤎😍🤎

Unbidden, a smile crept across your face. He looked kind, sweet. Even if he didn't say where he worked.- 🤭🤭🤭 I love her precious giddiness here! That kind of unbidden happy thrill of the what-if!

Bradley, you tested the name out. - ITS A GOOD NAME, ITS THE BEST NAME DOR THE BEST BOY

No, it's because you're unfathomably pretty and I didn't think you'd actually like me back.— MY SWEETEST GIRLLLL 😭 oh this bit of insecurity hit me in the gut. I’m bringing an Unhide blanket over and some Fortnum tea and we are having a CHAT about this miss ma’am because HE’S GONNA LIKE YOU! HE’S GONNA LOVE YOI BACK! AND ITS GOING TO BE GREAT!

bold of you to assume it also wasn't the 'stache...and that i'm not just mainlining lactaid- we are the same 😂 that altoid tin in my purse isn’t filled with breath mints lololololol

He typed and deleted his response a couple times, leaving you on the edge of your seat.— that boy was SWEATING!! I just know he was like trying to figure out what to say to try and impress her, he wants to keep her talking with him!

Your allegiance to UVA in any sporting event wasn't exactly top of mind, so you had to check your March Madness bracket that everyone in the office had been forced to fill out for team building. — but I love how she’s already looking it up because she already LIKES him and wants to have an opinion on it to bond 🥰

Did you know the moon's actually lemon shaped? And that the Milky Way apparently smells like raspberries and rum?— THE MOST PRECIOUS MUSTACHED NERD!! Also SPACE FACTS?!!! shutthefuckupjordanhesrocketmanandiamaswooningpuddleonthefloor

no, bradley, i did not know that. do you only specialize in space fun facts or can i get something else out of you...— CHEEKY GIRL 💖💖💖

As it was, your Uber let you out next to a pale blue Bronco. — oh I love a wink like this!!

You didn’t really date. Not in the same sense that your friends Caroline and Darcy or even Alexa and Max did. — IMNEVERGETTINGOVERITTTTTTTTTTT 💖‼️💖‼️💖‼️💖‼️🫠😍🫠😍

But there was just something about him - about Bradley - that made you think this could be something? Something about Bradley made you giggle at your phone while you read his texts and buy a new dress and get a wax for your date. — she’s so cute!! they’re so cuteeee!! She’s excited! She’s optimistic! She’s got the cute dress and the wax! She’s ready for the start of her foreverrrrrr!

God, please like me. I hope he likes me.- 🥺🥹🥺 HALF AGONY HALF HOPE

Jesus. Did Uncle Sam pay everyone's tab, too?— 🤭

What if he wasn't there? What if he saw you get out of your Uber in the parking lot and bailed? No - he wouldn't do that. — NO HE WOULDNT!! I love that she’s only chatted with him for a few days, but already innately knows he’s never treat someone like that 🥹

He texted with full capitalization and punctuation. — H O TTTTTTT

God, he was so pretty. His hair looked lighter in person, not as brown, his arms looked so strong even in his unbuttoned light blue oxford, and that mustache? It worked. It really worked. - 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

His knee was bouncing and he kept glancing down at the phone propped up on his knee. 7:33pm - you were late.— ANXIOUS BOY!! HE IS ALSO HALF AGONY HALF HOPE! They’re 🫛

The abrupt motion caused him to almost drop his phone, but it made you smile. - oh he’s so cute

Once his eyes settled on you it was like everything stopped. The bar got quiet, you didn't notice the girl next to you complaining about her drink, and the hockey game on TV faded into the background - you just noticed Bradley.— 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠 I am a puddleeeeeeee

Your stomach was going crazy with butterflies and your heart was pounding so hard, you were convinced Bradley could see the outline through your pink dress. — he’s gonna see what’s under that pink dress soon just you waitttttt 💁🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️

Bradley was either really smart or really lucky when he ordered your margarita with your preferred tequila - you only had to pipe up to request salt on the rim. — the boy has good taste but we already know that! 💖

And then the night took a turn...— YEAH IT DID RIGHT INTO HIS BED!! 💃🏼

Ohhhhh this was EVERYTHING I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED! I love every little crumb we get about them, but this little prequel fic and how giddy and nervous and hopeful they both are gave me the butterflies in the best way! I love it!!

can't hardly wait

Summary: in which a guy named bradley likes you back on hinge...

OR a prequel fic with the first hinge messages

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Warnings: listen i know i have a picture selected for her, i just wanted to have the ice cream comparison and went with this one. also i have all the pics on bradley's profile if you're curious 💁🏼‍♀️ he's just so goddamn cute! written for @roosterforme 's 'rocktober' event and inspired by the replacements song. don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉 [image template (x)]

Your phone lit up with a notification, buzzing in its spot on your glass desk. You glanced down at it for a moment before going back to your slide deck - until it buzzed again. It was a Hinge notification. You hadn't been particularly active on the app the last couple days, not wanting to get your hopes up yet again. So, you'd made one last ditch attempt on Hinge, liking some guys who were way out of your league - before telling Max he had the go-ahead to set you up with his buddy. Leaning back in your desk chair, you swiped up on the notification.

Oh. It was this one - the pretty one. Bradley.

You scrolled back through his profile one more time, reacquainting yourself with the 6'1" brunet. He had a picture cuddling a chunky French Bulldog, one at a Rolling Stones concert, one with an older guy who was probably his dad, and one where his eyes looked like pools of chocolate, in addition to his main photo. Unbidden, a smile crept across your face. He looked kind, sweet. Even if he didn't say where he worked.

Bradley, you tested the name out.

Without further delay, you pulled up his message:

Did you only like me because I also have a picture eating ice cream on my profile? I guess that means you're not lactose intolerant?

You let out a little giggle and twirled around in your desk chair. Oh, he was sweet (and a little nerdy). No, it's because you're unfathomably pretty and I didn't think you'd actually like me back. Trying not to overthink it, you typed out a response:

bold of you to assume it also wasn't the 'stache...and that i'm not just mainlining lactaid

It was cute, a little cheeky. He typed and deleted his response a couple times, leaving you on the edge of your seat.

How far do you have UVA going in MM this year?

You pursed your lips. Hmph. And went back to scrolling his profile. Ah, there it was - he'd also gone to UVA, though a couple years before you. He also drank, didn't smoke, and was vaccinated and bi. You swiped back to the chat.

Your allegiance to UVA in any sporting event wasn't exactly top of mind, so you had to check your March Madness bracket that everyone in the office had been forced to fill out for team building. Just has you were about to say Elite Eight! Bradley messaged back:

Sorry, that was really lame. I’m not used to this.

You smiled. that has to be a line...

His reply was instantaneous. It's not, I promise! Alright give me one more try. How's this?

In the background, your computer pinged with multiple Teams message notifications, but your eyes remained glued to your phone.

Did you know the moon's actually lemon shaped? And that the Milky Way apparently smells like raspberries and rum?

It was such a ridiculous and silly fun fact that it made you smile. Time to put all that barstool trivia practice to good use.

no, bradley, i did not know that. do you only specialize in space fun facts or can i get something else out of you...

----------

Turns out all it took was a smattering of the world's silliest fun facts to get you hooked, and after days of texting you were at the Hard Deck. The beachfront dive bar wasn't exactly your ideal first date location, but it seemed like there was a good crowd inside judging by the excessive number of the cars in the parking lot. As it was, your Uber let you out next to a pale blue Bronco. You smoothed your hands over your dress and checked your hair one final time before heading inside.

You didn’t really date. Not in the same sense that your friends Caroline and Darcy or even Alexa and Max did. The last person you’d gone out with for more than three dates had been your ex-boyfriend Jack and even that relationship fizzled after six months. 

But there was just something about him - about Bradley - that made you think this could be something? Something about Bradley made you giggle at your phone while you read his texts and buy a new dress and get a wax for your date. 

God, please like me. I hope he likes me.

The bell above the door jingled as you entered, suddenly taken aback not only by the amount of people in the bar, but also the Navy paraphernalia doting seemingly every usable surface. Jesus. Did Uncle Sam pay everyone's tab, too?

Scooting out of the way of another group entering behind you, you bit your lip and stretched your neck, looking around the bar for Bradley. What if he wasn't there? What if he saw you get out of your Uber in the parking lot and bailed? No - he wouldn't do that. The Bradley you had gotten to know over the last couple days sent you fun facts and his Wordle score. He asked about your projects at work and what you were having for dinner. He texted with full capitalization and punctuation. At the very worst, you'd hope you'd get an it's not you, it's me text from him.

But your worry was all for naught because when you got closer to the bar, you saw him. And by some sort of miracle he hadn't seen you yet, which gave you ample opportunity to ogle because you seriously needed a minute. God, he was so pretty. His hair looked lighter in person, not as brown, his arms looked so strong even in his unbuttoned light blue oxford, and that mustache? It worked. It really worked.

And he looked nervous? His knee was bouncing and he kept glancing down at the phone propped up on his knee. 7:33pm - you were late. You squared your shoulders and cleared your throat before closing the final few steps.

"Bradley?"

He spun around on his barstool at your voice. The abrupt motion caused him to almost drop his phone, but it made you smile. Once his eyes settled on you it was like everything stopped. The bar got quiet, you didn't notice the girl next to you complaining about her drink, and the hockey game on TV faded into the background - you just noticed Bradley.

A smile crept across his face as he said your name in turn and you nodded. Your stomach was going crazy with butterflies and your heart was pounding so hard, you were convinced Bradley could see the outline through your pink dress. His voice was warm and raspy and had your insides turning into honey.

"It's nice to see you - " He gave you a full hug that was over far too soon. God he smelled so good, too. "- Here, have a seat. Do you want a drink?"

"You too." You took his hand and got on the barstool, placing your clutch on the table and glancing around the bar. "Ummm, what're you having?"

"An old fashioned - sorry," he shook himself and glanced back down at his drink sheepishly, "you just look really pretty."

You cheeks warmed under his stare and you bit your lip. If your knee nudged his underneath the bar-top then that was just an accident. "Thanks, I'll uh - I'll have a margarita?"

Bradley was either really smart or really lucky when he ordered your margarita with your preferred tequila - you only had to pipe up to request salt on the rim.

And then it was just easy. Everything just fell into place. You talked about your time at UVA - he even got you to admit that your were a Tri-Delta after he admitted to being Sigma Chi philanthropy chair -your favorite restaurants and neighborhoods in San Diego, and your job, which Bradley endearingly thought was fascinating - something you wouldn't exactly agree with, but it was flattering all the same.

And it was only because of the easy conversation and banter between the two of you that you finally felt comfortable bringing up your most burning question all evening:

“So, what’s with the bar?” you asked, looking around with a teasing smile on your face. Bradley cocked his head. “I mean, is it just me or is like every naval officer within a forty mile radius here?”

And then the night took a turn...

don't forget to read part 1 to see how the date goes 😉

a/n: so this was just something small to tide me over before i post my next fic about thanksgiving! hope you all liked it!

[yunopouts]

1,2,3 - n. jaemin

-> pairing: sadist(kinda)!jaemin x fem reader

-> genre: filth smut

-> warnings: spanking, unprotected sex, rough sex (kinda? not really tho), oral (f receiving), biting, fingering, handjob, overstimulation, squirting, creampie

-> word count: 2.1k

this is some weird shit. prepare yourselves.

The ending is where the actual filth starts (literally for like 2.3 seconds tho)

I am so sorry.

After laying in bed for literally five hours, you decided to get up and walk around your apartment. Your boyfriend was at work and you couldn’t go out because you’re living during a fucking pandemic (w/n: YES MAKE THAT SHIT REALISTIC😩), so you were stuck at home. All by yourself, with nothing to do.

You walked yourself to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbed out the juice.

“I can just drink from the carton.” You thought out loud. “No, that's kinda gross, I can’t do that.” You shook your head and just grabbed a glass from the cabinet. Thinking of what you should do, you wandered around, sipping your juice from time to time. “I don’t want to watch tv, cause I just finished doing that. Jesus Christ, this shouldn’t be that hard to do.” You whined, stamping your feet like a child throwing a tantrum to get what they want.

Heaving a sigh, you continued moping around.

“Screw this, I’m just gonna shower.” You chugged your juice and set the glass in the sink before heading to the bathroom.

-

When you walked out of the bathroom all clean, you headed to the living room- where you were unexpectedly met by your boyfriend, Jaemin, who was sitting on the couch. You stopped in the entry way, making eye contact with him and smiled when he called you over.

“How's my pretty girl doing?” he asked, looking up at you with a lazy smile. His hands traveled from your waist, around to your ass and down to the back of your thighs, sliding up and down.

“Fine, bored.” You replied with a sigh. “You okay?” you ran your fingers through his hair. Jaemin leaned forward, pressing his lips just above the waistband of your pants.

“So perfect.” He purred in response, kissing you again, slowly moving further and further down your waist. His eyes connected with yours, glassy, dark and filled with lust. From your thighs, Jaemin’s hands went up and started to tug down your pants, helping him by shimmying out of them.

Standing up, Jaemin brought you into a kiss, one that was slow yet needy at the same time. You gasped when you felt a burning sensation against your ass. Jaemin smirked against your lips, doing it again, making you moan this time.

Arms wrapping around your waist, you lead your boyfriend backwards, slow enough to get there without tripping on anything. As you kissed, Jaemin kneaded your ass, groaned into you and pressed you against his groin, where you felt his erection.

You reached your bedroom, and your boyfriend pushed you down, your back hitting the soft mattress. Practically ripping off your panties, Jaemin spread your knees apart, licking a stripe up your pussy. “My pretty girl has such a pretty pussy that’s so so wet for me.” He said, spreading apart your lips. The boy stared in awe at your glistening heat. “It never seizes to fascinate me at how fast you get so wet for me.”

Without warning, he shoved two fingers into your hole, savagely ramming them into you. Nothing left your mouth; nothing could leave your mouth, not even a croak. He hadn’t even actually started to fuck you; it was just with his fingers and your voice was caught in your throat.

“What?” Jaemin stopped. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” you couldn’t respond as you were still trying to catch your breath.

“S-sorry, just feels good.” You managed to choke out, finally getting air back into your lungs. With a satisfied smirk, he re-inserted his fingers, but thrust at a painfully slow speed. “Jaemin, faster.” You whined.

“Ah, ah, ah~ don’t get greedy, pretty girl.” He continued with his pace, curling his fingers up from time to time. “You know how much I hate greedy people.” The boy leaned forward, placing the flat of his tongue against your clit. He moved the muscle quickly, making you cry out in pleasure. Your hands flew to his hair, pulling and running your fingers through it. “You know,” he spoke between licks. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” Jaemin attached his lips to your clit and sucked before letting go of it with a ‘pop’.

“In the studio, when we were recording ‘Make A Wish’;” the thrusts of his fingers slowly increased. “When we were in the practice rooms.” He used his tongue again, swirling it around to lap up all your arousal.

“That’s… sweet.” You choked back on a moan but failed miserably.

The sweet noises you were eliciting from your clit being flicked and abused was enough to get your boyfriend grinding against the bed.

“Oh fuck.” You moved you’re hips to the feeling, needing more, to which he pulled out.

Jaemin left from your core and was now hovering above you. When you met his eyes, forcing you to witness him sucking his fingers that were practically dripping with your wetness. That action alone was enough to make you shake as your first orgasm washed over you.

Jaemin watched this happen, moaning in pleasure and delight; the fact that you came from a simple glace at him turned him on a lot..

“I got so hard that Taeyong sent me home early.” He stated. Jaemin licked his lip before almost closing all the space you had between your faces.

Almost, is the key word.

He stayed hovering, lips three centimeters away from your own. You tried to kiss him, but that made your boyfriend move backwards. When you pouted, he moved back to the same spot, smirking. “Turn around for me, beautiful.”

His tone was deep and full of mischief. It got you kind of worried, but you complied, slowly shifting your body so that your back was to him. Jaemin pressed against your back, making you feel his erection against your ass, as he brought his lips to your shoulder and kissed it lightly.

Suddenly, you felt something sharp in the same place where he kissed you and you hissed, pushing against him. He let out a throaty moan in your ear, more arousal dripping from your heat. He licked, kissed, sucked and bit his way down, littering your back with all sorts of shaped markings. When he reached the small of your back, he stopped.

He pulled away before he started to knead your ass. “You look so good from behind.” You could practically hear the smirk in his cocky tone. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

“Then do it.” You said.

“Patience, pretty girl.” He instructed, going silent for a second, before sending down the palm of his hand against your ass. You yelped in pain, shoving your face into the pillows of your shared bed.

“That’s one.” He grunt before smacking you again. “Two; three;” he continued until he reached ten, your ass stinging. “All done.” He sighed as he brought you back up, gently turning you around so that he could see your tear stained face. “Sorry, pretty girl.” He kissed your closed eyelids.

You shook your head slightly, “It felt good.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled against your forehead. Jaemin brought his pants down, revealing his clothed cock. “Help me out with this one, will you?” the boy asked you once he noticed you were staring down at the darkened spot on his underwear.

Your hand found its way into his boxers, grabbing his dick. Connecting his lips with yours, Jaemin mewled at the feeling of both your lips and your hand on him. Your thumb gently touched the tip, spreading around the precum. Your wrist worked in circular motions, sliding up and down his shaft, making the boy a moaning mess. He bucked his hips in time with your actions, letting out a shaky sigh against you.

“Shit.” Jaemin parted from your lips so he could throw his head back in pleasure. “Fuck, I’m so close.” He whined.

Three more strokes and the deed was done; Jaemin’s cock was twitching in your hand as you let him ride out his orgasm.

“You’re still hard.” You stated, staring at his dick, that was still very hard.

“Didn’t I explicitly tell you how fucking horny I was today?” he glanced at you with a raised brow.

“Oh, right.” You recalled. “Get on with it then.” Jaemin let out a laugh, kissing you once again before moving back on top of you.

Just like he did before with his fingers, Jaemin pushed into you with out warning, leaving you breathless once again. He thrust in and out of you slowly, thoroughly enjoying your pleads to go faster.

“You’re such a good girl.” He growled, placing a finger on your clit, rubbing harsh circles as he pumped in and out of you at a pace that satisfied you. A hand slid up your torso, finding its place around one of your breasts. He squeezed it a bit and played with the nipple, rolling it in between two fingers. “God, I love you.”

Jaemins cock felt so good. It filled all the space available in your pussy and your walls always clenched around him, whether you meant to do it or not.

The boy let go of your tit and pulled your hips impossibly closer to his, leaning in, fucking you faster and deeper than before. He pushed your waist down, squeezing so hard that you were sure to have marks from his nails later. Lowering your eyes ever so slightly, you watched how your boyfriends’ eyes were trained on what was poking out every so often when he plowed back into you. The tips of your fingers traced the area in which he was looking at so intently, making him moan loudly.

“Do you like it when I fuck you hard like this.” He asked, finally connecting your eyes again. “Fuck, I can see where my dick hits you.” You bit your lip and nodded, grabbing at his arm and giving it a light squeeze, letting him know that you were close.

“Do it.” He huffed. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

Jaemin fucked you through your second orgasm, but continued to rail you, like nothing had happened.

“No more.” You whined in protest, clawing at his back as he adjusted his position.

“Haven’t cum.” He remarked.

Twelve minutes more and Jaemin was still at it, fucking you nice and hard.

After a while, the pain and pleasure of cumming for a third time had finally come to an end when his snapping hips had come to a sputtering stop, allowing himself to release inside you. Jaemin bit into your nape as he came, your fingers slowly drawing small patterns on his back. He pulled out, somehow still hard, but at least not fully.

When he rolled off top of you, he brought you into his legs, spreading them open and keeping them that way, using his own legs. Traveling to your cum filled hole, his fingers entered you, slowly pumping in and out. His left hand found itself at your clit, adding more stimulation to your already overstimulated heat.

“Fuck, Jaemin.” You yelped, writhing in his arms.

“We both know what you want, pretty girl.” He spoke in a condescending tone. “So be quiet for me until I give it to you.” He nipped at your earlobe. You complied, moaning instead of a worded answer. “That’s my girl.” You felt him smirk against the skin of your neck.

The motions his fingers were making on your clit soon became bigger and stronger; the fingers in your hole sometimes pulling out to smear his cum on the rest of your pussy, re-inserting themselves afterwards.

The wetness of your pussy and his cum mixing together made the filthiest of noises, but to Jaemin, your moans were all he could hear, sending him into orbit, causing his fingers to move quicker and quicker.

You tried inhaling, but barely any air actually made it into your lungs.

“J-Jae-” you gasped. In your ear was a deep chuckle, meaning Jaemin probably came back to earth when he heard the heavenly noises coming from your pussy.

“Fuck, scream my fucking name.” hands working at the speed of light as you came.

And this time you came hard.

Harder than you have before.

So hard that you squirt, juices leaking everywhere on your sheets.

As you screamed, like Jaemin said, his voice raised too, laughing out in amazement.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” Was all you heard him say before passing out.

[shorkbrian]

Cottgecore

Prelude - This is all @dearestdynamight ‘s fault okay I take no responsibility for the horny..... or do I? aha Sorry I said I’d write a drabble but it turned into a one shot whoops

Pairing - Yandere Bakugou Katsuki X Fem Reader

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, predator/prey dynamics, unsafe sex, 

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/3R8PKPTPgHApBhCt3NUJ0q?si=uLON1Rw_RHaEpH2WaCfYBA (This music has a great runnin tempo/ it made me think of heartbeats skippin like outta fear so)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright-” Bakugou has you by the arm, dragging you past the threshold of the cabin he keeps you in.

You’re scared. Sometimes he lets you outside, to feel the sunshine and the nice breeze, to go for a walk down to the creek, hiding his smile as you gawk at all the pretty flowers.

But he seems... agitated today. Restless.

“-Here’s how this is gonna go.” He shoves you down the front steps, and you barely catch yourself from falling, turning to look at the blonde while he sits himself down on the top step, legs stretching out. “I’ll give you hm, five minutes -  got that? You got five minutes to fuckin’ run, and then I let myself loose.”

“Wh-what?” You’re not understanding, hands anxiously twisting at each other. There’s a predatory look in Bakugou’s eyes.

“We’re gonna play tag. I’m fuckin’ bored and I wanna get a nice little workout in. Chasing your pretty little ass through the forest should be enough to get my blood pumping.” Is his simple explanation.

He’s letting you run?

You don’t dare to hope for a second that you’ll actually be able to get away, escape from the monster of a man that’s lounging on the steps in front of you. 

He’s hurt you, abused you, kept you locked away from society, far enough that no one’s able to hear when you scream every time Bakugou fucks you.  

“I..... I don’t want to play.” Your bottom lip quivers, but you can’t tell if you’re going to cry out of frustration or nervousness. You can’t believe that you’re nothing more than a toy to Bakugou, something he can play with when he’s bored, keep tucked away in the dark when he has better things to do.

Bakugou leans back, rests on an elbow, lets his crimson eyes rake up your form before they reach your gaze. “Yeah? You don’t wanna play? Is that cause you know you’ll fuckin’ lose? I bet you’ll cry like a little bitch when I catch you.”

There’s nothing that you want to say to him. He’s trying to egg you on, but you won’t fall for his mean tricks.

“Fucking fine.” He shifts, smug smile appearing. “Time starts now. I don’t care if you don’t run, but know that I don’t have any qualms about fuckin’ you right here after your five minutes are up.” His gaze his burning into you.

At least if you run, you won’t just be sitting here, waiting as Katsuki counts down the minutes.

You take off, down towards the creek behind the cabin, grateful that Bakugou let you keep your sneakers when he had first dragged you here, all those months ago.

They’re practically falling apart, squishing through the mud by the creek, and you almost lose your footing, scrambling to right yourself, splash across to the other side.

It doesn’t matter that your shoes are all wet now, that the bottom of your dress is dripping. Truthfully, you hate the dresses Katsuki brings home for you to wear. Hate that they’re clothes you’d love under normal circumstances, flowy dresses and cute patterns, fitting in so nicely to a cottage core aesthetic.

Branches snap underfoot as you crash through the brush, panting, focused on one thing and one thing only; getting as far away as you could, as fast as you can.

You don’t want to think about what’s going to happen when if Katsuki catches you, this twisted little game of tag he wants to play. You want to scream, this isn’t even how you play tag, he’s just using it as an excuse to hunt you down, to take pleasure out of your fear.

Moving too close to a tree had you yelping as your shoulder collided, the rough bark scratching up your skin, tearing your dress. No matter, you just needed to keep going, keep running, keep moving.

It was starting to hurt to breathe, lifting your legs was tiring, burning. You’d never been much of a runner, and being kept under lock and key at Bakugou’s cabin hadn’t exactly done wonders for your endurance.

You found yourself cursing that fact as a loud shout rang through the forest, words indiscernible. But you knew it was the blonde, could recognize raspy, manic voice that comprised the shout.

Five minutes was up.

Wheezing now, you pushed on. You briefly considered hiding, but quickly discarded that idea. Bakugou could track you, and you didn’t have enough time. You would have to worry that he’d be even rougher when if he caught you, hiding instead of running like he had wanted.

No time to rest, but you wanted to, lungs burning. You had a stitch in your side, your shoulder hurt from scraping against the tree, and your mouth was dry, throat parched.

It wasn’t long before you began to hear noises behind you, brush crashing, branches snapping, pleased laughter. You knew Bakugou was toying with you, knew that he could track you silently if he so chose. But no, he wanted you to know that he was coming, chasing you down, relentless.

It hurt to push your legs faster, muscles fatigued, cramping. Your left calf seized up, and you held in a shriek, pleading, begging your body to keep moving as you limped on, hurriedly dragging your cramping leg, refusing to stop.

“Keep on runnin’, I’ve almost fucking got you!” Bakugou crowed, and you spared a glance behind you, thankfully seeing nothing but an empty forest behind you. It meant you still had time.

But not enough time.

With a start, you realized the noises behind you had stopped, which meant that Katsuki was beginning to actually hunt, silent and ruthless.

You don’t know where he is now, nothing left to do but urge your body forward still, exhausted and terrified.

Then a weight’s pushing against your back, and you’re hitting the dirt, tackled by Bakugou, pinned down.

“I knew I’d fuckin’ get you.” He whispers to you, breath coming out in proud, ragged pants.

You whimper into the dirt, body already aching, your own breath knocked completely out of your chest because of the way the male had tackled you. You hurt all over, and now you were dirty, and Bakugou wouldn’t get off.

“Goddamn, you gave me a run for my money there. Didn’t think you’d be that fuckin’ fast, Jesus Christ.” You can tell he’s almost proud of you, proud of his ability to choose a partner.

He pushes his weight off of you, rising to his knees, and you quickly try to follow him, not fond of being splayed out on the ground underneath him.

But Bakugou doesn’t let you get far.

You’ve gathered your legs underneath you, pushing up off the ground, but the man curls a hand around your hip, the other gripping at your uninjured shoulder. You don’t even have time to draw in a breath to ask him what he was doing before he’s shoving your face back in the dirt, lifting your hips.

“Bakugou, wait!” You screeched, hands fumbling backwards as you try to grab at him, push him off you.

The man just laughs, loud and rough, shuffles closer so he can push his crotch against your ass, let you feel the sizable bulge he’s sporting. “What’s wrong princess? I won fair n’d square, now let me take my fuckin’ prize.”

A part of you knew, knew that this is how things would end. But you had wanted to believe, had hoped that it’d be different. 

“Please, wait, not here-not out here.” You choked, feeling him shift the fabric of your dress up over your ass, just enough so that he could tug at the fabric of your panties, snap the edges against your skin.

“N’d why the fuck not? ‘S not like anybody’ll hear you when you start screamin’.” The reality behind his words made your stomach curl, legs trembling as Katsuki snickered.

“Look at you, shakin’ like a scared little deer.”

Your panties get tugged down to your knees, and you hear the slight squish of Bakugou gathering his saliva in his mouth seconds before you hear him spit, seconds before you feel the glob of wet land on one of your cheeks.

Fingers swipe through the mess, before trailing down to your pussy, spreading Bakugou’s spit against your folds.

He apparently isn’t satisfied with that though, because you can feel him shifting, right before he grips a cheek in each hand and spreads you wide, pulls your hips backwards at the same time so you’re angled just right.

Just right for his spit to land directly on your cunt this time.

“S-stop it, please-” You shudder, giving up on trying to push him off. It’s never worked for you in the past, and you’re tired from running, sweaty body yearning to go limp.

A finger enters you, too soon, with not enough spit to ease its way. You yelp at the burning stretch, but Bakugou snarls at you too shut up, take what he’s given’ you as he slaps your ass.

You can feel the burn of his gaze as he watches your flesh jiggle from the force of his slap. 

He works fast, doesn’t have enough patience to go slow, to open you up properly for him. The mans riled up from the chase, full of adrenaline that has no where to go, and he wants to hammer away at your little body until you break. Bakugou knows he can build you back up again when you do.

It’s alarming when you feel fingers pull free, feel the hot, spongy head of a dick pressing up against your entrance. You aren’t ready, nowhere near wet enough. “Bakugou-Bakugou wait, wait! Bakug-oh!!” The scream that leaves your mouth is loud enough to startle birds, cause them to rise from their resting places in the trees.

Bakugou laughs a little at that, the sound quickly tapering off into a groan as he works his cock deeper into you, wiggling his hips from side to side so he can fully seat himself into your cunt, balls snug up against your clit.

“Yeah, go ahead and scream princess, lemme hear you.” He encourages, pulling out just an inch or two so he can slam back in, hear you sob, watch your shoulder shake. with each heaving breath.

He’s fucking you into the dirt like an animal, feral and uncontrolled, wild. You barely have the coordination to try and protect your face with your forearms, keep your sensitive skin from being scraped raw on the ground.

You can’t protect your knees though, or the places that Katsuki holds you from, his grip too tight, blunt nails pressing so deep into your flesh that they draw blood, the pressure biting.

It’s impossible to hold back your noises, tearful, fearful screams reverberating into the forest, choked off as you’re rocked back and forth by vicious thrusts.

The man moves easily, fucks you with the strength of a stallion, growling out your name, letting out throaty groans as he chases his release.

And it hurts, so much, your body battered and becoming scratched and bruised; it hurts so much. Until heat pools in your gut, Katsuki hitting a special spot inside you. It makes your toes curl in your sneakers, has the slide of his cock going just a bit easier as you get that much wetter.

“Unh, n-no-ooh, please, ah! Please, ohh, Bak-Bakug-” You can’t even finish your sentence, not with the blonde reaching around, hand creeping across your stomach, down to where his balls keep smacking against your skin so he can rub tight little circles around your clit.

“Fuck-fuck yeah princess, there we go. Feelin’ good now? Shit, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight.”

You hated his voice, hated how deep and raspy it was, how his gruff moans of pleasure made your stomach jolt with arousal.

“You tryin’ t’ milk my cock or somethin’? You want my cum that fucking bad?” The man pounding you into the dirt laughed, changing his posture so that he was curled over you, chest pressed to your back.

His hips rabbited into you, and you sobbed freely at the sensation, at his horrible fingers that wouldn’t stop drawing shapes on your little clit, making you feel hot and too close to cumming.

“No, no, no-” You whimpered, trying to hold back your orgasm, but it was too little, too late.

Bakugou’s hips stuttered as you gushed around his cock, barely managing three more full thrusts before burying himself deep, cock twitching inside of you, spurting out his warm cum.

Disgusting.

You were too tired, too spent to care how long the two of you spent on the ground, regaining your breath.

When Bakugou peeled himself away from your body, soft cock slipping easily from your warmth, you couldn’t help but cringe at the wetness that spilled against your thigh, no longer plugged in your cunt.

“That was real fucking good.”

Yeah, maybe for him.

Your panties were pulled back up, Bakugou smoothing them down before flipping your dress back into place as he rose to his feet.

He urged you up, supporting most of your weight as he easily tugged you upright. “Knew you’d be too much of a baby to walk back.” He grouched as your knees trembled, almost sending you crashing back to the ground if not for his firm arm around your waist, holding you up.

The next second, you were being lifted into the air, easily swung up into Katsuki’s arms, carried bridal style.

You felt his eyes on you, scanning over your face, your arms, your legs. Cataloging the various scratches and bruises marring your form. “You look like shit.”

You didn’t have a smart retort, just rested your head against his chest, grateful that he wasn’t making you walk, legs weak and jelly-like.

Your throat hurt from screaming.

Bakugou took you home, back to his cabin, to the cottage core life that you’d think was perfect... if only he wasn’t in it.

[hockeyforthefirsttime]

The Art of Not Falling in Love- Roope Hintz

AN: This is a piece that is very self indulgent BUT it has a plot despite being like 80% smut. I am thinking of making more parts if people like this 

Word count: 5k 

TW: like its smut.. so like what do you expect. (Wrap it before you tap it) spanking light dom!Roope female reader 

You could never quite understand how you got into this situation. You’d sworn to never fall in love ever. The pain of watching the gruesome divorce of your parents, the way your friends seemed to find “the one” left and right, only to be heartbroken, was simply too much. So you decided to simply don’t fall in love ever. 

And you’d kept that promise to yourself, ever since 15. Sure a few crushes came up now and then, but you never acted on them, and you made sure no one knew about the feeling. The only person in your life that knew about this promise to yourself was your best friend Jamie.

The first person you’d met in Dallas when you’d first moved there. You had been a freshman in college and he had been, ironically so, the first person to hit on you in Dallas, and you hadn’t even officially gotten there yet.  It happened on the plane ride. He was seated beside you and you couldn’t for the life of you remember the pick up line he used. You just know it was bad, cause you remember laughing at it and the way he tried to manage his long limbs into the airplane seat. It had gone uphill from there on, and you were glad he didn’t get offended by you laughing at him. 

Now, however, you were sitting in the stands of the American Airlines Center, watching him and his team scramble across the ice in a turnover, passing the puck up the ice. Roope Hintz picks it up and flicks it into the goal, just over the left shoulder of the Blackhawks goalie, making the Stars take the lead with three minutes left in the third period. The stands erupt in wild cheers and the team celebrates on ice. You jump with the rest of the crowd, and clap enthusiastically. Knowing that it’s gonna be an insufferable team to meet afterwards. After all, athletes tend to be after winning a game like this. 

The buzzer goes off and the Dallas Stars have officially ended their losing streak. The crowd is going wild, jumping up and down, making the stands shake just a little. Thats when you decide to sneak out of the stands and find your way to the outside of the locker room, where Jamie had promised he would meet you. 

You have been around a few times, and sure enough you find your way. Jamie had made sure to let the security staff know that you would be around after the game. There is a soccer ball laying around so you pick it up and start bouncing it on your jeans clad thigh, then dropping it down onto your foot and up again, alway in control. You lose yourself to the ball, concentrating on keeping it in the air, so much so that you don’t notice the door slamming open until the boom of it makes you drop the ball. 

“Jesus fuck.” 

You whisper as you look up to find the source of the noise. What you find shouldn’t surprise you, but seeing a shirtless Roope Hintz standing there with a frown on his face, makes heat rush up your neck regardless. 

“Who are you?” 

He looks suspiciously at you, taking in the skinny jeans and the absence of a jersey. As well as the forgotten soccer ball. 

“Sorry, just here for Oleksiak.” 

You try to shrug it off, looking for the ball again. His eyes squint suspiciously at you, but his head tilts backwards as he calls for Jamie. He comes bounding out of the locker room, shirtless, but fresh out of the shower. He’s in the middle of zipping up his game day slacks, and the smile already on his lips gets wider.  

“You could have waited with the others you know?” 

Jamie says cheekily to you. The heat to your face returns, but not in full force. You look at his tall stature and the smaller man beside him. And for some reason, the blonde star of the night is the one to make you look away. You shoot daggers at Jamie instead. 

“You know, you could have told me where they were, so I didn’t have to stand here like some other crazed fan.” 

Roope slowly turns around and walks away, closing the door with one last curious look directed at you. 

“Oh come on, we all know you’re crazy for me.” 

Finally you can feel yourself relax a little, with a sigh you take a step closer to him. 

“Yeah, crazy for you to leave me alone.” 

He wraps you up in his arms and lifts you up in the air, laughing as you gasp at the surprise of being lifted up. 

“Congrats by the way, you played well today.” 

You say to him, as he lets you back down on the ground again.  

“Thank you Sparks.” 

“Now go get dressed completely, I suppose you want to celebrate tonight?” 

His signature, tooth lacking smile is on full display as he slings an arm around your shoulders. Jamie looks at you with a mischievous look. 

“We really want to celebrate this, and besides, we really need to get you laid.” 

You wrench your way out of his grip and scowl at him, pushing him in the direction of the door to the locker room. 

“Get dressed you idiot.” 

You say with a flat voice, trying to remain serious, and failing when you see Jamie wink at you last minute. You immediately go back to juggling the soccer ball, as the door slams shut. 

A couple of girls are walking towards you, and you suspect they’re here looking for their boyfriends or husbands. That’s until you see the flustered cheeks and whispers of “I can’t believe we made it all the way here.” and the agreements that follow. 

Their eyes land on you and your soccer ball, and their expressions instantly sour. You try to shrug it off, but when the whispering starts again, you look up from the ball. You start getting suspicious when one of the three girls flicks her long, perfectly curled, brunette hair over her shoulder and opens her immaculately painted lips to say something. 

“You shouldn’t be here you know.” 

The confidence in her voice almost has you fooled for someone who belongs there. Almost. You’ve never seen her close to any of them ever, even if you had managed to stay out of the public eye yourself. Something about this trio didn’t feel right. You stop juggling the ball and drop it to your foot, catching it without bounce and then placing your foot on top of it.  

“Why not?” 

You ask out of curiosity of what the answer would be.

“Well, it’s reserved for the wags, you know, so you don’t belong here.” 

You tilt your head and raise a brow, questioningly. 

“Isn’t that what the owner's box is for? you know with reserved seats, food and really comfortable sitting options?” 

A blush seems to rise through her make- up and you restrain yourself a little, you really don’t want to make her an enemy. Just in case. 

“Yeah.. I just need to see my man before we head home.”

She stutters out, looking at her two friends who nod encouragingly at her. 

“Okay, just remind me who it is again?” 

You play dumb, knowing that the media is about to get out of the room in a minute. 

“Jamie ofcourse.” 

And her voice is so confident as she says it, you let a smile show before chuckling. They really thought they could fool anyone with that. Just in that moment, the door opens and cameras and notepads or tape recorders start filing out of the door. 

You walk over to the door, holding it open for the stream of reporters and crew. Then you duck a head in and yell for Jamie. 

“Oleksiak, your girlfriend is here…” 

It isn’t intentional all the way, but it comes out in a sing- song voice.  

The entirety of the team turns to face you. Briefly you meet the eyes of Roope, who’s still shirtless. Just as Jamie passes you by with a confused look, you tap his now clothed arm to make him bend down just a little.

“Ehh, so someone somehow got past security, apparently you’re her boyfriend.” 

You say to him, loud enough for the closest teammates to hear. 

“Jesus Christ, not again.” 

Jamie mutters. Stephen Johns is closest and has his phone in seconds calling someone. You let a glance out the door and see the girls huddled together, suddenly looking unsure. Jamie takes a look over your shoulder and sighs. 

“Guess I should distract them until security gets here, just stay here.”

You roll your eyes, but stay put. Then suddenly you realise where you are, feeling like an intruder. 

“Sorry guys, didn’t mean to intrude, just thought you should know about the girls outside.” 

You say, trying to not look too closely at anyone. You can feel the heat rising up your neck. 

“‘S alright, not everyday we get to know a girl from Jamie's side.”

Tyler Seguin says from his seat by his gear. 

“Oh I know, he has a hard time finding decent ones.” 

You say it absentmindedly, but the entire team seems to crack up at that. You feel a little bad, but you also know it as true and it's already said, so you can’t take it back. 

“Seems like he did alright with you.” 

Roope says as he pulls his button up over his arms and starts pushing the buttons through the holes.

“Ahh, a common mistake. Not a girlfriend and not sleeping with him either.” 

His brows raise and a cheeky smile forms on his face. But he doesn’t say anything else. You feel off, of sorts. He doesn’t irk you like the girls did. And it was kind of scaring you. It’s the feeling you get when you start being intrigued, and you don ‘t need that now.

-------

You’re sitting at the bar, alone, not that you mind it, because the girl who finally got Jamie had been ogling him all night and talking too loud, and it was a relief when you saw them walk out the door. He had asked multiple times if it was okay for him to leave, so much so that you almost drove the uber back to her place yourself. 

Staring down at the drink in your hand, you realised you were too sober and too far behind on studying (not really) to be sitting here, in a place you didn’t want to be. So you got up, turned around and immediately crashed into a hard chest. Looking up, you find a wild head of blonde curls and a heavenly cologne. Roope Hintz.

“Can I help you you mr. Star?” 

You said ask as he leans closer, if that was even possible, without touching you. He at least has the decency to chuckle and look a little bashful as you address him that way. 

“You sure you’re not even a little infatuated with Oleksiak?” 

Rolling your eyes, you lean back onto the bar and cross your ankles. 

“Why? Are you jealous?” 

You give him a flirty smile, just for the hell of it. Roope steps forward so his feet are planted on either side of yours, not touching this time either, and leans an arm beside you, making him come impossibly close to you. 

“What if I am?” 

He asks, and his eyes are roaming all over your face, ignited with a desire you haven’t seen in far too long. It makes a heat pool in your stomach, and a little in your cheeks. Just purely out of the close proximity. 

“Then you’re gonna be sorely disappointed.” 

You try to sound casual, but Roope leans a little closer.

“And why is that?” 

You can tell he is curious, and your judgement is compromised from the closeness of him. Maybe one night wouldn’t hurt, right?

“I’m a one time offer, an-” 

Roope doesn’t even let you finish your sentence, before he has your hand in his. Just as you touch it feels like a wave of something indescribable washes over you. You’d never felt anything like it. 

“I can do that. Come along now, we haven’t got all night.” 

Roope drags you away from the bar and you scramble to keep up the first few steps. When you catch up, he laces his fingers through yours, and heads out the door. It’s cold out, and since you haven’t really been outside today, all you have is the sweater you came to the rink in. You hadn’t been dressed for a club at all, but he didn’t seem to mind. You wrap your arms around yourself, to try to preserve some of the heat from the inside. Roope has a keen eye and steps behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“One time offer, remember?” 

“Oh yeah, that doesn’t mean I can’t be nice, or no?” 

And as he pulls you closer to him, you can feel in your bones (and your lower back) that he isn’t nearly as nice as he’s pretending to be. And you catch yourself thinking that you can’t wait to see what this turns into. 

“Just, doubting what you define as nice, that’s all.” 

At that Roope, let out a little chuckle, before leaning down a little and placing small kisses on your exposed neck. He works his way up to your ear. 

“I can be very nice, it all depends on you though.” 

With a final kiss to your cheek, he steps away from your heated face, and looks at the uber that’s now in front of you, double checking that it’s the right one. How in the hell had you missed the car pulling up to the curb? Roope opened the door to the back seat and let you enter first. Then he entered shortly after you, told the lady driving the car his address and turned to face you. 

“Didn’t think you were that shy, sweetheat.” 

He gestured to the entire middle seat between the two of you. You just shake your head, with a coy smile on your lips. 

“Just been a while.” 

You say quietly, not wanting the driver to hear. Regardless, she looks at you, very discreetly, through the rearview mirror. You give her a reassuring smile trying to convey that you feel safe and that you’re okay. She gives you a wink in return. 

“I’ll make it worth your time.” 

Roope leads you into an elevator and punches one of the higher numbers, all the while his eyes are roaming you, mentally undressing you. Most definitely wondering what he would find underneath the sweater and jeans. You are absolutely feeling a little shy with the way he looks at you. However, at the same time you’re looking at him, wondering what he is going to do, if he will be soft or hard in demeanor, if he’s gonna be rough or boring, but somehow something in his eyes tells you, it’s gonna be anything but boring. 

The elevator stops, and he steps closer, taking your hand in his, entwining your fingers and leading the way out of the elevator. Just two doors down he pulls some keys out of his back pocket and steadily unlocks the door, no fumbling. You take it as a good sign even if you already knew that he wasn’t even close to being drunk. The lock clicks in place and the door slides open, revealing a dark hallway. Roope steps in first and flicks on the light. It’s neat, considering what you had been expecting. The door shuts behind you, and you hear the lock clicking. 

Toeing off your shoes you turn and find Roope already staring at you. His eyes are considerably darker. He drops the jacket he had been wearing to the floor and beckons you with a finger to follow him, all silent and a little domineering, half a smile on his lips. You see the light flicker on in the hallway as you follow him down to the left and then the first door on the right hand side it’s the only open door, but it’s not fully lit inside. Carefully you step inside, when nothing happens, you take one more step in and the room is suddenly full of tension. 

The light here is turned on low, and Roope is standing in front of you taking slow steps towards you. Determined to stand your ground you remain unmoving, but your eyes roam him, and he seems to notice. With a smirk he takes a hand behind his neck and promptly yanks the shirt off of his upper body. You feel your jaw dropping just a little as you scan him over. 

“Look at me in the eyes babe.” 

Heat rises to your cheeks, but you remain in your spot steadily holding his gaze. He takes a step closer, and then another, until he’s standing mere inches from you. A devious smile is playing on his lips, when one of his hands lands on your waist. His thumb rubs circles on your hip, just underneath the emerald sweater of yours. 

“Are you sure about this?” 

He asks, taking his other hand up and caressing your cheek. You nod your head yes. 

“I’m gonna need you to use your words for me.” 

The hand that’s on your cheek is suddenly forcing your face upwards to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sure about this.” 

You whisper, again meeting his eyes. Just as the sentence leaves your mouth, he immediately goes to kiss you, but you pull back just slightly, just to tease, and maybe test him a little. He sees the mischievous glint in your eyes, and his smile widens.

“Oh you wanna play like that, huh?” 

Roope’s hands slip from your body, before meeting again behind your thighs, lifting you up into his arms. You stare down into his darkened eyes, and lean into him. He lets you kiss him for a couple of seconds, before he deepens it. You let him, not really feeling like fighting him. His lips move from yours and down your neck, as he walks towards the bed, you can feel him leaving a few hickies before dropping you onto the bed. 

“Off with the sweater, kaunis.” 

You look up at him, while crossing your arms and gripping the bottom of the sweater, letting him take in all of you as the green top comes off. Underneath is a simple black bra and you can see his pupils dilate at the sight of you. 

“That one I’m gonna take off myself.” 

He leans over you, until you’ve laid down flat on the bed. He’s hovering over you, resting on his forearms, yet his hips have already settled between your legs. You can feel him there hard and heavy. His breath playing across your collarbones, makes you feel the anticipation building in your entire body. 

He presses a quick kiss to your lips before he starts leaving open mouth kisses down the valley of your breasts, he shifts his weight so he is leaning more on one arm and slides the other underneath your back, and makes quick work of unfastening your bra. The tension leaves the straps and you let them fall off. Then with his teeth he bites the middle of the bra, lifting it off your body and chucking it away with his free hand. 

“Upea.” 

You don’t question his words, honestly feeling a little more turned on as he speaks to you in a language you don’t understand. With a wink he kisses each of your tits a few times, before moving further down. 

“Still good?” 

He asks, and you feel your heart ache a little at it, and immediately shove the feeling aside.

“Yes, so good.”

You say, all out of breath as his fingers pop open the button, and slowly pull down the zipper of your jeans. In a swift motion he has his fingers in what you assume is the belt loops and has pulled down your jeans along with the black underwear you had been wearing. Instinctively you try to close your legs, but two calloused hands on either of your knees stops that motion. 

“I’ve got you.” 

Roope says as he leans into your right thigh and starts leaving kisses again. Closer and closer to your core, and when he finally is there, he switches to the other tigh, repeating the process. Your hands, which have been clenching the sheets, finally go to his long hair, tugging a little. Roope lets out a little groan and you swear you can feel it in your entire body.

“Aww, look how wet you are, all for me?” 

He asks in a husky voice. 

“All for you, all for you.” 

Roope seems to revel in the admittance rolling off your tongue, before he lets himself have a taste. At least that’s what you think is happening. You feel his hot breath fan over your core, and he is painfully close, you lift your hips just slightly to meet his mouth, just as he pulls away. 

“My bed, my rules. Now, you’re gonna have to ask really nicely to cum, before I let you. Got it?” 

You’re so lost in desperation for his mouth that you can only nod. You both hear and feel the sigh escaping him, before he lands a little smack on the inside of your thigh. It causes you to let out a strangled moan and clench around nothing. 

“Didn’t I tell you? Words.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll ask to cum.” 

And then he’s all over you. The pent up feeling you have in your body only seems to grow as he spends his time licking and lapping at your folds. With his arms around your thighs and eyes firmly set on yours, your body's working overtime trying to feel everything. You feel your grip on his hair tighten as his mouth finds you clit and a finger easily slides inside you. 

“Fuuuck, feels so good.” 

You draw out the vocals as he hums against you. Your breathing went uneven a long time ago, but now you’re struggling to control anything that comes out of your mouth. Especially as the second finger enters you and he makes a “come here” motion with his fingers, finally finding that one particular spot. It nearly sends you over the edge.

“Ah ah, ask first.” 

Your brain feels like mush as he continues his assault on your pussy. 

“Please may I cum?” 

Roope hums against you, before leaning away a little. 

“No, I want you to beg.” 

He goes back in, feeling the way your body is wound so tightly you don’t know where to turn, not being able to think clearly. 

“Please, I’ll be so good, just please please let me cum.” 

Again Roope hums. 

“Okay, only if you’re a good girl though.” 

He says looking up at you, with that smirk of his, before he dives back in.  You can feel the tension in your body tightening, and when his tongue does a particularly intense stroke over your clit you can’t hold it anymore. Your legs clamp around his head and you let out a drawn out moan of pleasure as he lets you ride out the high on his face. 

When you can’t take it anymore, you gently guide his face away from your core. Roope has this cocky grin on his face and you can’t help but like it being directed at you. You pull him up towards you and kiss him deeply, not really caring if you can taste yourself on his lips. Finally he lets your hands wander over the planes of his upper body, feeling the muscles tense and flex as your fingers trace every ridge of his body. He seems to really like kissing you, but he does notice that your hands go lower and lift his hips up a little to make room so you can pop the button of his jeans. As soon as the zipper is down, your hand traces the waistband of his boxers. 

“You gonna play with me like this all night, rakas?” 

He asks with a playful tone of voice. 

“Maybe.” 

You tease, pulling on the waistband of the boxers, before releasing it, making it snap against his skin. He leans away from you completely, getting up so he’s on his knees, but otherwise full height. Your legs are caught between his, so you can only sit up as far. Not that you mind though, with the way he towers over you, giving you perfect access to the bulge that’s now in your direct line of vision. Without really meaning to your jaw goes slack. His pointer finger is under your chin, making you look up at him.  

“Eyes up here, yeah?” 

You nod innocently at him, making him groan at the sight of you. 

“Good girl. Now let’s see if we can put that mouth of yours to good use.” 

You blush at his words and the smirk on his lips. Regardless, you start peeling the boxers and jeans down his legs. Slowly. Since this is going to be a one time thing, you think, you’re gonna savour this moment. His skin is hot beneath your fingers, but not as hot as your cheeks the moment his cock springs free of it’s confinement. You’re definitely not complaining about any aspect of it. 

Without a second thought you put your lips around the angry red tip, letting your tongue explore every inch of his dick. Roope seems to like what you’re doing, judging by the groaning and panting above you. One of his hands is in your hair, doing a makeshift ponytail as you continue to suck him off. Suddenly, he all but pulls you off his cock, which now seems even more red than it was before. With strings of saliva hanging from your mouth, connected to his dick. Roope lets out a groan that makes your inside tingle before he slides back off the bed.

“I’m going to ruin you so good, rakas.” 

He kicks off his jeans and boxers before he is over you again. You look him in the eyes nodding, before spreading your legs, letting him settle between them. He cages you in with his arms, and for some reason, even with his dark gaze upon you, you feel safe. And when he grabs your arms, pinning them beside your head you let out a content sigh. Not only because you’re completely letting go, but because you can feel his cock brushing against your stomach. The anticipation is almost killing you. 

Roope, kisses up and down your neck, whispering dirty somethings in your ear, because they aren’t nothing. They are all his fantasies, of what he has come up with that he wants to do with you. As well as to you. Most of all though, you think he just enjoys watching you squirm in need of him. When he lets go of your right hand, it traces your throat.

“Now, put my cock inside yourself.” 

It’s a demand, and you follow through, out of desperation to feel him inside. You wrap your hand around his dick, carefully tugging at him, running your thumb over the tip, teasing. With a little smile on your lips. Roope is quick to kiss it away, delving into you, with a passion you’ve never felt before. “Inside, now. Or this teasing of yours is gonna have some serious consequences.” 

He mumbles against your lips, so you do as told, guiding him to your entrance. You both let out content sighs as he finally sinks into you. He is going slow at first. Letting you adjust to having him inside you. 

“Look so good for me like this.” 

You can only nod as he starts moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts. He finds a pace and as soon as you start clenching around him, when he hits that part of you. His pace picks up. The hand that’s still holding onto yours, they are now intertwined in each other. His other hand is caressing your hip. You’re pretty much just a blubbering mess of his name and curses as he hits all the right parts. 

With a final kiss to your lips, he leans up a bit, so his thighs are resting on his calves creating a steep angle, so you almost slip off him. Almost. He pulls you closer by the hips, making you yelp out, before your legs are planted on either side of him, giving yourself a little more leverage as he hits deep inside of you. The moan that escapes you is genuine, and you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure. At that you feel a sharp sting on your thigh again. 

“Eyes on me.” 

In the fog of pleasure all you manage to get out is a weak. “Yes, sir.” 

Opening your eyes, you see Roope straining a little as well. His cheeks are tinted and his breathing is really uneven. But his eyes are blown with pleasure, and as you guide his hand to your lower stomach where you can vaguely feel him moving in and out of you. It looks like a new fire has been ignited inside him. 

His hand slips from yours as he lets it go to rub at your clit again. The pleasure almost becomes too much, and your eyes roll a little at the feeling. 

“May I please cum, sir?” 

You manage to moan out, barely remembering his demand from before. 

“Hold it for like three seconds, I’m gonna count you down.” 

So you look him in the eyes and let him blow out your back for a few more thrusts, and then he starts counting down. 

“3”

His rhythm changes as he slows down and goes harder, deeper. 

“2” 

He moans as you clench around him. 

“1, cum for me.” 

And you do. It starts in your stomach, and like a warm tide it washes over your entire body. Roope fucks you through it, before he finally pulls out and with a loud groan he is jerking himself off, letting go in hot spurts all over your torso. He finishes and stares down at his personal masterpiece. With your rapidly raising stomach and chest covered in his cum, you can tell by the smirk on his lips. He’s satisfied.

“I’ll be right back.” 

Roope says with a wink, and you just nod. Because even though you just had the best sex to date, you were trying to gather your thoughts. On how to get home. You don’t see where he goes, but you hear water running from a sink. When he’s back from the bathroom, you assume, he has a wet  washcloth in hand and is wearing a fresh pair of boxers. Gently he wipes his cum from your chest and stomach, and a little in between your legs. 

And you’re almost completely ruined by how gentle he is. But you have a promise to keep, and you’re not planning on betraying yourself. He leaves again to toss the cloth into the hamper. When he comes back, you have gathered your underwear and bra, and are standing on the floor on slightly shaky legs. 

“You’re leaving?” 

And that was really the first sign. 

“Yeah, one time offer. Remember?” 

You answer, looking for your jeans. Roope sweeps them off of the floor and hands them to you. 

“Yeah, right.” 

You get dressed in silence, and when your last sock is on. You straighten up. 

“I’ll just find the way out myself.” 

It’s meant to be casual, but Roope immediately refuses. 

“No no, I’ll walk you out.” 

And he does, following close behind you. You’ve just gotten your shoes on, when your phone pings. It’s a notification from uber that your ride is here. You’ve put your hand on the door knob and opened the door, when Roope, who was leaning against the wall, pulls you back and kisses you deeply. 

“Next time you need an orgasm, give me a call.”

He says with a wink. 

In the car back to your apartment, you can feel it. You’re not gonna get rid of Roope after what just went down in his bedroom. The worst part of it is that you’re not sure you want it to be a one time thing. Fuck.