#obviously it's by far one of the least bad things they are doing

[hxrsheykisses]

It’s me again girl💔 could u do the eltingville boys with a reader that has a bf that mistreats them? I would like to see how they react ESPECIALLY if the bf is preventing her from hanging out with them (wink wink) - 💐 anon

THIS IS GOING TO BE SO GOOD!!! I love making drama with the boys cause I just know that they will be a hot disastrous mess💔 thank you so much for requesting 💐 anon!!♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

They gon run fades

Cause this whole thing will send them on a mission. They ALL will postpone the club meeting to have a discussion to lowkey lay hands on this lil boyfriend of yours. They may not be all that in physique wise but they aren’t gonna allow him to not only keep you away from them, but to also mistreat you.

They all had their own personal experiences with your boyfriend so they knew that he was just a bitch.

Bill, we all know that he is an asshole, it’s no secret. But before Bill could even give him shit, he beat him to it. Your boyfriend was talking some nonsense that hurt his ego—taking shit on his interests and his looks while he ain’t look nothing special himself. Bill’s ego is the most sensitive thing about him so anything and anyone can make it hurt bad. He was already tweaking out after that first encounter.

Pete automatically knew from the start when you brought your boyfriend around. He could also tell that you acted so differently when he was around and that set off some red flags. So Pete has been wary of him. He didn’t appreciate how your boyfriend would talk to you as if you were stupid and treated you like shit. Now, Pete ain’t just gonna sit around and listen to him bark and yap so of course he spoke out about it to him. Your boyfriend just said some snarky comments about how Pete was doing way too fucking much and that set him off.

Josh would be the butt of the joke whenever your boyfriend was around and it’ll all be about his weight and shit. Josh would say stuff back but he doesn’t go far enough. Your boyfriend seems be appear to be experienced in knowing how to make people shut the fuck up apparently so everytime Josh tries to shoot his shot with a insult or two, it all comes crashing down on him.

Jerry has said something one time to your boyfriend when he flat out called you out of your name, like he said how it wasn’t cool for him to call you that considering how you two are dating and stuff. Obviously that all went out. one ear and out the other and it had Jerry boiling on the inside because he just couldn’t stand watching your boyfriend treat you in such a fashion—with no shame too.

The point where it got serious was when your boyfriend prevented you from doing anything with the boys. This meant no club meetings, no hanging out outside the meetings, plans, or even simply making small talk if you were to cross paths—everything was a big no no. (And if I remember correctly…) You guys were 17 year olds—why was your boyfriend preventing you from hanging out outside? Why is he trying to take the ropes and keep you away from them when you are damn near grown?

The boys have planned a confrontation after sneaking and talking to you (wasn’t an easy thing to do…), they convinced you that your boyfriend wasn’t a good guy for you to be with and how they can tell that it’s taking a toll on you. It was a tough decision but it was the right one. So, they all planned on scheduling a confrontation with your boyfriend…the plan was to catch the two of you walking around the block, and all the boys basically team up against your boyfriend. You on the other hand, with some extra backup, you will make the official choice to break up with him.

The situation was terrible and resulted in a small physical fight between the boys but in the end it all worked out with some bruises and cuts in the end—you were finally free from the grasp of your shitty boyfriend at least’

On a real note, the boys were really worried about you and you were always on their mind when you and this bitch were dating. They didn’t want you to end up getting hurt more than you already did by this guy and they weren’t going to sit around and allow it to happen. Sure, they aren’t necessarily good people themselves but you are their friend and they can’t risk seeing you get hurt like that.

[macsimagines]

I know they didn't win that recent poll, but could I still request some headcanons for bully!Kazutora and bully!Koko? (and if you're feeling really nice, Rindou too)

Love your work, thank you for writing! ❤

obviously these won't be as long as Mikey's but I'll still try to make it good thank you for being patient.

MINORS DNI WARNINGS: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, STALKING, THREATENING, BLACKMAIL, NONCON, DUBCON, BULLYING

KAZUTORA HANEMIYA

This creep has been pulling on your braids and knocking you over on the playground ever since you two were kids. Back then it was an innocent crush but after he got put into juvie it morphed into something desperate.

When he gets back he is at his most vulnerable and unstable. He needs you more than ever and he is NOT taking no for an answer. Kazutora tries to be nice at first, but that lasts all of one hour when you don't start reciprocating.

Then he tries a more direct approach. "Look, Y/N, you don't want to go back to the way things used be, right? After all, I'm much bigger now, and I don't even know my own strength. I'd hate to hurt you if we go back to playing rough. Lets start brand new~?"

It actually works because you remember how crazy he was before he was put away, you can't imagine what he's like now. You just learn to play nicely, and Kazutora eventually rewards you for it.

"Think it's time we made us official?"

KOKONOI HAJIME

You were just someone he used to make himself feel better. It could have been something you said, it could have been something you laughed at, hell you could have just looked at him wrong! All that mattered was that you were his 'Special-stupid-pet'.

Somedays were bearable. Maybe a pinch on your ass once during class and a few name calling in the hall. On other days it was hell on earth. Backing you into a corner and saying whatever you want him to.

"You're the smartest, Koko. You're the best. Of course you can keep me safe."

If you don't say it right (You never do) he will physically punish you. Cigarette burns, slight choking and bruising. One particularly bad day he made you hand over your panties before school. "Give me something so I don't get lonely."

But you're his pet, so only he is allowed to torture you anyone else will be getting jumped by a few Black Dragon's.

RINDOU HAITANI

Ok so you started hanging around through a friend of a friend, and Rindou was smitten with you. He tried not to make it too obvious but you spoke back and forth so easy with him that it just felt right. Until some other asshole tried to pull you away from him.

Sure, maybe kicking someone's ass on the first night he met you wasn't smart but at least he was trying to stake a claim on you. It could be romantic. He thinks it is...

From then on he's all over you whenever you're around. Other guys know better than to talk to you and even your friends are starting to be scared off the second he corners you. And it's not like you can just say to going anytime you find out Rindou is going to be there. He jus throws a huge fit and your friends complain your ear off about it.

Its not so bad. Until he starts drinking and getting handsy and needier with you. Refusing to let you walk ten feet without him, Demanding you stop looking at your phone and start giving him attention.

Its unspoken but you don't get to say no. He won't ever take anything too far but he makes sure you and everyone else knows how he feels about you. Whether or not he realizes you don't feel the same way.

[star-lights-up]

Get to know your mutuals! Thank you @panfroggy for mentioning me!!!! <3

What's the origin of your blog title? Well, back in the day (a little over a yearish ago) my usual moniker was "stargirl," but obviously that's pretty generic, so I was trying to think of something to do with star. I think I wanted "star_light" but that's also kinda generic, so for some reason I thought of the saying "lights up," like someone's face lighting up in a smile, and since I'm a friendlyish kinda person I was like! Oh! Perfect! And did star-light....s-up! So it can be read as star light as the main part or lights up as the main part!

OTP(s) + Shipname: Charles/Erik - Cherik (X men), Ben Solo/Rey - Reylo (Star Wars), Finn/Poe Dameron - Stormpilot or Finnpoe (Star Wars), Sylvie/Loki - Sylki (MCU), Fitz/Jemma Simmons - Fitzsimmons (Agents of SHIELD)

Favourite colour: Pink! Blue! Yellow! Sparkles!!!

Favourite game: Minecraft in creative mode. It's peaceful <3

Song stuck in your head: Not Strong Enough by Boygenius

Weirdest habit/trait? My nervous habits: Tapping my fingers so each finger brushes across my thumb once, and then brushing my thumb against my other fingers four times (so it's even), and mindlessly scratching the back of my neck (i've drawn blood when I'm anxious. it's bad)

Hobbies: Writing, drawing, singing, playing guitar

If you work, what's your profession? ): full time student.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Either something in genetic research (yes I liked this before I liked x men) or something in film! Maybe even a screenwriter!

Something you're good at: Um... Writing I guess?

Something you're bad at: Lots of things. Right now, it's logarithms.

Something you love: X MEN!

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: ALSO X MEN!

Something you hate: Teenagers. They're awful. I am one, I should know.

Something you collect: Nothing, unfortunately, I don't have the space ): I guess edits on my phone, if digital stuff counts!

Something you forget: THAT ONE GOOD IDEA FOR A DRAWING I HAD EARLIER!! WHAT W A S IT!?!? (this happens a lot!!)

What's your love language? Acts of service, caretaking, really. I'm always making sure people have enough food, and I carry around extras of everything in case anyone needs something.

Favourite movie/show: Friends, Gilmore Girls, Agents of SHIELD, Loki, X Men (FC and DOFP), The Last Jedi (Please don't kill me internet, thank you), Ten Things I Hate About You, While You Were Sleeping

Favourite food: Tacos, maybe? I really love ronto wraps from disneyland.... but considering you have to pay like 200 dollars for a ticket first i don't know if that counts....

Favourite animal: I love wolves!! Sharks, snails, and dogs are close follow ups!

What were you like as a child? Still am one, basically. I'm weird but friendly.

Favourite subject at school? Really, I don't mind them all. What class I like depends on the teacher and the people in the class.

Least favourite subject: PE. I'm asthmatic and tiny, I'm getting trampled!! Are you trying to kill me!?

What's your best character trait? I'm very loyal? I'm not sure!

What's your worst character trait? There's a lot of those. Uhm, probably my perfectionism. It goes a bit too far sometimes.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? I would like to be 856 days older.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Probably one of the cool, important figures. I'm not super historically literate. Maybe rosa parks. It'd be cool to meet shakespeare, ask him what juliet being compared to light REALLY meant and if he even noticed he was doing it. Or maybe jesus. just to know what's going on with that.

Just typing in whoever pops up! Anyone is welcome to join!! @wishchip106 @mooniel @mapofyourstars @lucktv @stinkrat-aleks @chris-in-the-headlights @randomwholocker

Get to know your mutuals! Thank you to @joyful-soul-collector for tagging.

What's the origin of your blog title? I have a bunch of sideblogs dedicated to my most active fandoms and I am an insomniac. My first ever fandom sideblog started the trend as a joke and I just carried on the tradition!

OTP(s) + Shipname: Jayce and Viktor is the main one right now. I also love Ed and Stede from Our Flag Means Death.

Favourite colour: Iridescent white

Favourite game: Dungeons and Dragons for sure! I also like playing Jackbox games with friends.

Song stuck in your head: To Be Seen - Searows

Weirdest habit/trait? Sitting and doing things in the dark. I just prefer existing in dim light because lights can be overwhelming and the darkness keeps my mind calm. Doesn't help I'm stuck in fluorescent lighting all day haha!

Hobbies: Writing, Singing, Crafting, and Baking

If you work, what's your profession? I'm a medical laboratory technician in blood sciences!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically? Since it specifies realistic, I'd like to be a biomedical scientist in immunology. It would mean getting another degree but I don't mind that too much.

Something you're good at: I'm good at writing! I recently wrote my first children's book and intend to write more when the inspiration comes back. A poetic style of writing is my favourite to do.

Something you're bad at: Socialising. I'm quite awkward but I still like chatting to people.

Something you love: Snails! I adore snails, I used to have pet giant African land snails for a few years.

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: The immune system, pathogenic disease, my fifty million apocalypse stories, etc.

Something you hate: Willful ignorance and anti vaxxers. Both suck very much.

Something you collect: Pins! I have so many. They're on my lanyard, my dunagrees, my pinboard, and my ita bag.

Something you forget: The thing I was meant to be doing.

What's your love language? Gift giving and quality time. Also words of affirmation.

Favourite movie/show: Arcane for sure at the moment. I also love The Walking Dead, Good Omens, Our Flag Means Death, and a bunch of apocalypse/zombie shows.

Favourite food: Pizza

Favourite animal: Snails! 🐌

What were you like as a child? Strange is the best way to describe it honestly.

Favourite subject at school? Science! All the science.

Least favourite subject: Religious Education. No thanks.

What's your best character trait? I'm very passionate about the things and people I love.

What's your worst character trait? I tend to keep things bottled up inside until they come out all at once, I'm still working on not doing that.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? Being able to sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow! That would be amazing.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? I'm not sure, I'm not particularly enamoured by anyone in the past. Maybe Oscar Wilde.

Tagging anyone who wants to!

[gayforcarstairsgirls]

Something that really really pisses me off is terfs using the suffragette colours. Like. That is not your flag, you are not some kind of saviour to women, get your hands off that flag.

[david-watts]

usually whenever I stop taking my medication it's because I'm miserable and/or suicidal but this time it's the opposite because I was both of those and it was the medication's fault. like the side effects became so bad that I'd rather risk what happens when I'm unmedicated than continue dealing with them

[thingsidrawgohere]

Alright. I'm calling it done before it kills me. This is Second Head. It's an Art Book containing instances of the phrase "second head" in fanfics found on AO3. I'll explain much, MUCH more in the cut.

So when I say 'art book', I mean this is an intrinsic piece. I have no motivations aside from personal amusement and interest in outcome. A lot of money was lost/transmuted into free frustration in this project and I have no claims, obviously. I will prolly be the only person alive to read this.

THAT SAID. I have noticed in my years reading fanfic, there's a few linguistic shibboleths that arise in authors who also have experience in the mines. I think there's not a soul alive who hadn't wandered across a 'ministrations' when reading Narutos oral sexing. There's- Hold on. Here's some pix.

There's an impulse, I think, to in-group even when performing a creative act. A feeling that there are certain ways one Should go about the act, by virtue of seeing it performed that way. Especially so when 'training' at the act is often just Doing. Double Dog Especially when the act is exclusively for oneself with very little oversight. Which is to say, we make what we see and we make what we think we should make. At least, at first.

Now, I've been noticing 'grew a second head' (to insinuate surprise) in fanfic for some time. I've never seen it used Outside of fanfic. (Edit to add: I am not making the argument the phrase is from fanfic. Nor do I Believe it is from fanfic. Jesus Hopping Christ, people. That's not what this project is about.) That may speak to my own bad habits but it got me curious. So a friend and myself downloaded a mirror of AO3 from July of 2024. He did some code- Stuff to scan the mirror for "second head" and of the ~13 million works, ~70k (English) results were returned. That's a rounding error, honestly, but Far FAR more than I expected.

This book is 401 such examples that I personally selected for a variety of reasons. The number itself was arbitrarily chosen. Each page is separate fic, the roughly 300 words around our key phrase.

I don't think repetition or mirroring is a negative thing. I think it's quite charming. Nor do I think it's a sign of a 'bad' artist or 'bad' art. I think it's a signifier of personhood, of belonging, of enthusiasm. Of culture shared and wishing to share. I think it's real sweet. I always smile when I catch a 'grown a second head' in a work.

And it's really fucking funny when it's John Sherlock getting a sloppy toppy. Bless.

Edit: Fixed a very VERY funny error.

Edit: I am not making the argument that the phrase is exclusive to fanfic or, fucking forbid, FROM fanfic. I'm stating this Again because we skim here. Also- If you would like slamdunk my ass by stating the phrase predates the Internet or your GenX parents use it, please use 'sailboat' in your comment so I know you're specifically trying to kill me.

Edit Edit: You know what? Fine. I DO think this phrase came from fandom. I think ENGLISH came from fandom. I think YOU came from fandom. I think EVERYTHING came from fandom. The Sun, the Moon, the Seas- Fandom. Specifically Sonic Mpreg. The second head was Shadow the Hedgehog crowning. Congrats!

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2

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[alpaca-clouds]

Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

[meganegatari]

Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭

before you read!!

☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.

◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.

One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.

The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.

Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.

She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.

Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.

You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”

She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”

Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.

It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”

You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.

The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.

“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.

“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.

You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!

She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.

Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”

You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.

It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.

“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”

She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.

“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”

To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.

This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.

"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 14 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: Life with him is really good...Right?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/gore/death, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities, loss of identity, threatening, penetration, breeding kink, degradation kink, cockwarming, edging, overstimulation, sleepy sex (both consent!), not beta-read, if I've missed any warnings or tags please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Life was good.

Uncharacteristically so even.

There was still a tiny part of you that was tense around him and that was for various reasons. One of them being, that you never really knew when his evil persona would take over. So far you could tell, albeit roughly, but there were always moments, when he would simply snap and there was nothing you could do about it. Was that a problem? Probably, but not to you, anyways. Why? Because life was good.

The little trip to the balcony hadn’t been a one-time thing. In fact, it happened more and more regular. Not only to get naughty, because he was a freak, who liked the thought of possibly getting caught – but also because, as he said, you’ve been such a good girl for me all this time. And I told you, sweet girl, I don’t want to keep you locked away. I just needed to make sure you’re mine.

That you were. Quite obviously.

That one time when you told him you wanted to leave, it had been exactly that. One time. The reasons for that outburst were in the past so far. There were still moments when you feared punishment and rightfully so. But to your great relief, you were both learning.

You were learning not to expect a painful blow, whenever you went out of your way to speak your mind (which wasn’t quite as often as you wished, but you were getting there). Slow and steady.

And he? He was learning, too. He was learning to leave you be and control the wild beast that lived inside his mind and soul. The darkness that surrounded him became lighter every day or so it felt to you. Of course he wouldn’t let you downright insult him, without at least some punishment in sight. But he was working on himself and his behavior. He didn’t hurt you without a reason. He didn’t hurt severely. And on some lucky days, he didn’t hurt you at all.

Slow and steady.

What was probably the greatest part of it all, it felt like a relationship. A real one. Two people who shared a life together, doing all kinds of things, sharing an intimate relation, but most importantly, you talked.

You talked a lot.

And now it wasn’t only through games and the fear of punishment. It wasn’t even only you who was forced to talk. No, he talked as well. The important things were still a big issue, obviously. He didn’t have a name, an identity or a past, when it came to you. But you had the great, undying hope that one day he would trust you. Trust you enough to let you know who he was and where he came from, what made him who he was and what was truly important to him.

Sometimes you’d get those tiny, little flickers that shone through his façade, his tight mask. The moments when the look in his eyes became faraway and distant, when his voice became softer and the tension in his body gave way to something quiet. Maybe one day that would be the version of him that you would get. Entirely and without question. Without the filter to rule out his emotions for him.

Until then, though, you would make do with what you had. And what did you have?

His favorite movie? The good, the bad and the ugly. What a question. Actually, anything with Clint Eastwood in it. Haven’t you seen the man?

His favorite musician? Ennio Morricone. Did you watch that scene in Inglourious Basterds, right before the Bear Jew comes out of the cave? That scene – and that composition – it’s reason enough to watch the movie. Aside from all the Nazis getting burned, of course.

His favorite food? Tteokbokki. But they have to be spicy enough to make your tongue fall off.

You smirked to yourself as you stood by the stove, slowly stirring the rice cakes in a black pan. He was talking movies all the time and that was a language you understood well.

In a minute you needed to add the spices and that disturbingly hot, red sauce. It was something you had cooked before, back in England. You had been scrolling aimlessly through one of your countless apps, which you normally used so you wouldn’t have to think and there you found some recipe that had been viral for a while. A Korean recipe with rice cakes in a sauce, topped with sesame and green onions. It had been quite the ordeal to find rice cakes back where you lived, but when you finally did and you tasted the recipe you had so carefully and lovingly prepared, you found it was worth it. It had actually been the first step into the life you were now living.

South-Korea, you had thought. Why not?

You poured the sauce in and wanted to try it, but decided against it in the end. You’d spend the next hour trying to soothe the pain in your mouth with bread and milk. With a soft sigh, you turned off the stove and served the food on two plates. You set the table with the gentle precision of a lovely homemaker. Even the napkins were folded prettily, giving the whole scene the last touch it needed to come off as…thoughtful.

Of course you never mentioned to him that you knew the dish. He had mostly likely thought it was just another Korean word he threw around and you’d forget immediately. And you had made no attempts to make him believe differently. So, when you began to cook this, it was with the intention to surprise him. A short glance at the clock showed you that it was almost ten in the evening, so he would most likely be home soon.

Home. What an odd thought.

You sighed again and washed your hands. A lecture you had to learn only once before in your life – spicy food didn’t quite match well with eyes.

You glanced around the kitchen once more, half-expecting him to be late. After he luckily gave you the books back, you asked yourself if you should go and read something, until he arrived, but that question answered itself, the moment you heard the door creak open. A nervous smile grew on your face and you nibbled on your lower lip. For some reason, a part of you was still afraid. A tiny bit, at least. It was like you expected him to punish you for good things. For being affectionate or caring.

But the moment you saw his head perk through the door, you knew you wouldn’t get punished tonight. Well, at least not, until you gave him a reason to…or asked him to.

His face lit up in surprised delight, his brows furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

“Hello?” He murmured as he stepped closer and set the briefcase down on a chair. Your smile grew somewhat and you folded your hands behind your back.

“Hey.” You took a step closer and tilted your head to the side. “I made dinner.”

“I can see that.” He glanced at the lovely decorated kitchen table. You had put in quite some effort, looking through all the drawers until you found a tablecloth, lit some candles and then there was his favorite food. He looked from the table to you and smiled.

“And what exactly did I do to deserve this?” He raised a brow in suspicion. You returned the smile.

“I just felt like it.”

“So, you know Tteokbokki!”

You laughed quietly. “We’ll see about that. You should try it first.”

He hummed softly and stepped closer. You expected him to head for the sink and wash his hands, which he most definitely would, but before that, he stepped close to you, so close that you felt the warmth radiating off him and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Then your cheek and then your lips.

You closed eyes and leaned into the kiss, immediately aching for more. But a second later he pulled his head back and smiled again.

“I just know I’m going to love it. Thank you.”

You felt yourself blush and so you averted your gaze. He finished up getting ready and then pulled out your chair for you, like the gentleman he was, or well, he could be.

The both of you settled down and you kept a keen eye on him to check his reaction, the second he brought the fork to his lips. You half-expected him to recoil in disgust, but instead, his brows furrowed and he hummed in approval.

“This is perfect.”

You scoffed in amusement. “Stop bullshitting me.”

“No, I mean it. It’s perfectly spicy, just the way I like it. And it’s homemade. Do you know how much that me-“ He stopped himself and cleared his throat. The filter. “I really love it. Thank you.” He squeezed your hand under the table.

You smiled again and leaned back in your chair, taking a moment to simply watch him eat.

When he saw you were staring at him, he cocked a brow. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Now it’s you bullshitting me, huh?”

That made you laugh. God, how beautiful this was. Just simple, plain banter. Back and forth, like normal couples shared. You loved it.

You loved him.

When you laughed, a cocky grin grew on his face. “Mhm. I still have it in me, don’t I?”

You smirked. “Oh, shut up. For an old man.”

His grin widened and he picked up the fork, bringing it to your lips. Wordlessly, you parted them and took the food in your mouth. It was painful, of course, but you tried to keep a strong façade. And failed.

He laughed and held out a glass with milk to you, of which you took a big, grateful sip.

“Why are you making it, if you can’t even eat it?”

“You like it.”

He hummed softly. “And you remembered.”

“It’s not that hard. I collect the few things I know about you like postage stamps.”

He snorted. “Oh, so now we collect stamps, do we?”

You grinned cheekily and gently nudged his shoulder. “Eat your abnormal spicy food and shush.”

He shot you another smirk and eyed you up and down for a moment. It left you feeling oddly comfortable.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled before he took another bite. Your brows shot up and you titled your head to the side. You were better now, when it came to this. Compliments and accepting them. After all, he had no reason to lie to you whatsoever, now, did he?

“Thank you. But why are you saying that?” Not as good as you thought, but better.

He brows furrowed. “And why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged and he shot you a long, suspicious look. “I’m not taking it back.”

That made you laugh again. He sounded like petulant child and you loved him even more when he was like this. Just…easy.

Easy to love.

“Why are you laughing at me?” He joined your laughter.

You smirked and took another sip of your milk. “If you can’t tell, it’s already too late.”

Days passed, weeks even, and life was still good. Very much so.

Every now and then you would ask yourself, when will things take a dark turn again? You couldn’t help yourself. These first few weeks were stuck in your mind like a nightmare you hardly remembered and yet felt in every inch of your body. Even when you didn’t...

Your body remembered.

He had that in him. That dark, that evil. It would undoubtedly come out again at some point. That’s why you always tried to remind yourself, not to dive too deep into what you called your perfect world. At some point, you’d surely be in pain again.

Though, you had to admit, you were hardly in pain nowadays. Your mysterious man was a gentle man, when he wanted to be and that happened more and more these days. Whenever he came home, he’d make a habit of kissing you and asking you about your day. His smile came out, more and more often. On very rare occasions, when you got really lucky, you even heard him laugh. And not the mock-kind of laugh he’d have so well-rehearsed in his repertoire of masks, he had for the world to see, but the real kind. A sound so unbridled and genuine, so warm and endearing, it made something inside of you ache. Why was it so rare?

Of course he still hurt you sometimes, but that was more of a consented kind of thing. In most cases.

Whenever he decided it was time for you to cockwarm him, for example. God, you hated, when he did. Because you loved it.

You loved the feeling of having him inside you on any occasion, really. Sometimes he’d be reading the newspaper and have you on his lap, his free hand on your hip to hold you perfectly still. You always asked yourself, how on earth did he manage to read like that, without even cocking an eye brow, while you were nearly fainting in agony, because all you wanted was for him to move?

On other nights, and you were ashamed to admit how much you enjoyed it, you’d even sleep like that. You’d lay either facing away or facing him, but often clenched around him. He’d nuzzle his face in your hair and after a while he’d usually drift off like that, his breathing slowly soothing down to a soft sound. Sometimes, when he’d wake up in the middle of the night, you felt him move and grind his hips against yours, giving you the friction you so desperately desired. Sometimes it happened quickly, sometimes it took a few hours and sometimes it didn’t happen at all. But when it did and when it did take hours to get to that point, you’d normally be half-asleep and yet desperate. The second you felt him move inside you, it was as though a switch got flipped. You became needy and…

Wicked.

 For you, it didn’t matter how many times he fucked you. How many times he made you cum. When you felt him like that, you needed him. Ardently.

But in most cases you managed to be good for him, just like he asked you to. Good and perfectly still. When you did, you got rewarded. Which, in most cases, consisted of him going down on you and making you feel things with his tongue that made your toes curl and your breath stutter. He made you cum so good that you nearly forgot your own name.

At times, you did forget it. But odd enough, you didn’t really miss it. Names weren’t important. Not with him.

And then there were those other times. The times, when you got too needy, too desperate and, despite your better will, you found yourself moving against him, desperate for any kind of friction. That was when you got punished still.

Sometimes with a firm slap to get you back on track. That wasn’t enough to make you forget about your need for him though. Normally, you’d just fall back into the same pattern, given enough time. And after a while, he got more creative with his punishments. When he realized that pain was something that you were rather immune to, compared to other things, you were fucked.

Quite literally.

When you moved and disobeyed his orders not to…

He fucked you. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not at all, actually.

That was until…

You came. You came every time with him, which was something you had highly doubted, before you started this thing between you. But to your surprise, you were more than relaxed with him. And so you came.

But he didn’t stop there. No, it was a punishment after all, right?

So, he kept fucking into you, like a feral animal. Even after you came and the pleasure quickly shifted into overstimulation. You got so sensitive, it was close to painful. But he kept going.

And then, oh God, you’d come again. Of course you did. He was good at what he was doing. You came again, shuddering and gasping.

And he still wouldn’t stop.

Even when your body arched into the air and you tried to get away from him, all desperate, he’d continue fucking you, until your mind was a mess and all you could do was stutter and whimper, cry even.

It was one of his favorite ways to punish you.

When he didn’t keep you on edge or withdrew your release for the time being, he made you cum until you begged him to stop, sobbing and whimpering.

Oh, the crying turned him on, you could tell. Because it normally ended with him filling you up to the brim. And then he’d go back to sleep, wouldn’t he? With his length still buried deep inside to keep warm.

Let’s just hope you learned your lesson now, darling. I’d hate to punish you again.

He had done exactly that the night before and so you found yourself lying on the sofa, feeling sore and exhausted. When he came home that night, you were still passed out on the couch, too sleepy to even open your eyes. He regarded your broken frame with a warm, yet subtle smile and set his briefcase down. He took a few slow steps closer and watched over you for a long moment, before he reached for the nearby blanket and pulled it up to your shoulders. You weren’t really fast asleep, just somewhere in-between, so you felt his knuckles gently caress your cheek. You mumbled something in response and you heard the way he smiled, before he vanished to the bathroom and you heard the way the water got turned on.

After a while you slowly blinked your eyes open and yawned. When you saw the blanket, a smile crept onto your face and you hugged the material tightly to your body. Slowly and carefully, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, before you decided to try and cook something for a change. You got better and better at it, considering how little you knew about the Korean cuisine. Yet you had to admit, it seemed healthier than anything you had ever eaten back home.

When you couldn’t think of anything, you decided to be safe and went for Bibimbap. It was a mixture of near everything and also the fastest thing you could think of. But before you even started, you went back to your room to grab a claw clip for your hair. You swiftly did it up and made your way through the hallway, when you saw that the door to his bedroom stood open. You saw his white shirt splayed out on the bed and you just knew it smelled like him. You bit your lip as you slowly tiptoed inside and picked the shirt up, only to bury your face in the material and inhale softly.

If this wasn’t home, what would ever be?

You hummed softly to yourself, before you swiftly slid off your caramel colored skirt and your black tank top, to put his button down shirt on instead. The material hugged your body like a gentle hug and you smiled to yourself as you rolled the sleeves up in the way he would. Of course the shirt looked fairly huge on you. You took a long glance at the big mirror and smirked. It looked like a dress on you, albeit a short one. You twirled around like a ballerina and took in the way your thighs were barely covered by the material. That gave you a wicked idea.

Of course your body was begging you to leave it be, especially after last night, but the devil inside your mind forced you to keep the shirt on and make your way back to the kitchen.

In the meantime, he had finished his shower and now he sat on the couch, with the newspaper in his hand. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants (the damned bastard) and a black shirt. His hair was still damp and hung loosely into his face. He looked delicious.

When he heard you approach, he looked up, ready to greet you, when he hesitated. His gaze roamed up and down your body in a way that made you bite back a smirk.

“Hello, darling.” He murmured, without ever looking up at your face.

“Why, hello.” You purred cheerfully and approached him with slow, tiptoed steps. His gaze wandered up your legs and torso, until he finally met your gaze.

“You look…”

“I thought it suits me better than you.” You teased.

His lips curved up into a slow smile. “I can’t disagree.” He took your hand, ready to pull you onto his lap. But after last night, you felt in dire need to take some action and control.

Not, that you didn’t somehow enjoy it. But still.

You briefly squeezed his hand, before you pulled yours away. You gave him a quick peck on the lips, then took a step back.

“I’ll go cook.”

His brows shot up. “I can-“

“No.”

You hid your smirk, until you had your back facing him. With quick, measured steps, you disappeared into the kitchen, all the while pretending not to hear his frustrated groan.

The next few minutes went by rather quickly. You did a great job cooking up some ingredients and even an egg, Sunny Side Up. You quickly set the table and eventually left some rice on the stove, to slowly simmer. With a soft, exaggerated sigh you made your way back to the living room.

“It’s almost done.” You murmured as you slowly approached him. When you looked at him, you deliberately missed his face and his expression became more and more dour.

“Good. I was thinking-“

“I nearly finished my book.” You interrupted him in a sweet voice, as you sat down on his lap, causing him to freeze for a moment. It only took him a second to relax, though he seemed to have forgotten that you had interrupted him and what he even intended to say in the first place.

“That’s…good.” He murmured.

“Just two more pages. I’ll finish it quickly, before dinner, okay?”

He cocked a brow and shrugged slowly. “Sure. Suit yourself.”

His shirt rode up your thighs and revealed more and more of your skin to his gaze. He didn’t even try to be secretive about it, he was straight-up ogling you. All the while you buried your nose in your book, without reading a single word. You had to save up all your energy as not to smile.

His fingertips brushed over the skin of your thigh and you did your best to keep your expression neutral. And he, he was just…

“Are you-“

“Oh God, I didn’t see that twist coming.” You closed the book and sighed. Then you shot him an innocent look and smiled. “That was a really good book.”

You leaned back against his chest and kept up your innocent façade, all the while the look in his eyes equaled that of a bear with his fish.

“You really-“

“I’d better go and get myself another one. I’m sure the rice needs a few more minutes.”

His hand ended up in the middle of the air, while you practically jumped off of his lap. He let out a soft grunt of frustration, while you slowly swayed your way back to the bookshelf. Of course your hips swayed along and obviously his gaze did the same.

You held a finger against your lips, pretending to think, while you slowly went about the rows and rows of books. And then, what a coincidence, a book in the last row caught your attention. You smiled and bent down, pretending to read.

At the same time, his patience snapped. When his shirt rode up further, exposing just a hint of your rear to him, he let out a low growl.

“That’s enough.” He hissed. You smirked, before you slowly turned and replaced the smirk with innocent surprise.

“What? What’s enough?”

“Oh, stop this.” He slammed the newspaper down on the coffee table and stood up in a swift movement. “Stop acting all innocent. You’ve been parading around here, half-naked and ready to…”

“To what?” You murmured and tilted your head to the side in feigned curiosity. He growled again and ran a hand over his chin. Only then did you see the obvious tent in his grey sweatpants. It cost you half your life not to look down there and trust your peripheral view.

“Don’t play dumb.” He murmured. “Get over here. Now.”

You licked your lips. “But the rice-“

“Now!”

That made you laugh and there went your innocent act out of the window.

“You minx! You’re doing this on purpose!”

You chuckled. “Well…”

The look on his face was near rabid. Only the foam was missing.

“I’ll forgive you this once, if you’ll be a good girl for me and get your ass over here.”

You smirked and took a step back, circling the sofa. “And if I don’t?

He hissed in response. “You don’t want to test me today.”

And for some inexplicable reason, right then and there, you weren’t scared. That tiny part of your brain that had continued to keep up the fear, albeit briefly and barely, was completely silent. And you knew he wasn’t going to hurt you, no matter what you did.

“Make me then.”

His eyes widened and he tilted his chin up. “Oh, that’s a mistake.”

You grinned. “Oh, that’s a mistake.” You mocked his voice.

With a movement so quick that it almost made you wince, he jumped over the back of the couch and stood before you, eyeing you like a predator. You let out a soft shriek and turned on your heel, running and laughing, without looking over your shoulder.

It took him only a second to put his hand on your shoulder, but it took you only a second to shrug him off and circle the coffee table.

“That all you got, old man?”

You could have sworn you saw his lip twitch, but that would have been too easy. He tried hard to keep his expression serious.

“Grew a backbone, did you?”

You raised a brow and smirked. “Oh, boo-hoo. Did I hurt you, oppa?” You hinted a mocking curtsy.

“Oh, you just wait!” He rushed to catch you from one side, but you quickly ran the other way. When he tried the other way, you went the other way, yet again. He gave a frustrated growl.

“What now, hm?” You smirked. “Giving up already?”

He gave you a long, wild look. For a moment you almost thought he was indeed giving up, but then he rushed forward and kicked the table out of the way. It rolled over and crashed against the wall loudly. Your eyes widened in surprise and you took a step back, but before you knew it, your back was already pressed against the wall and you had to tilt your head back to stare up at him.

“You caught me.” You whispered.

He clenched his jaw and reached out a hand. You were sure. You were still sure, that you were safe.

And then…

His hand slowly tangled in your hair and gently grasped the back of your neck. He leaned down so that your lips nearly met.

“I caught you.” He whispered back, before he captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

And you let the rice burn.

A few days later, you couldn’t even tell which day it was, because every day was but a collection of memories you kept replaying in your head, he was off to work.

And to no one’s great surprise, you missed him.

Every waking moment without him was empty. The emptiness was so intense, it left you nearly suffocating. All the while, all you could do was wait. Wait and eat. Wait and sleep. Wait and read.

Sometimes, you wrote. You remembered that one time you told him about your greatest dream.

To become an author one day. You didn’t even care, if anyone knew your real name, you just wanted to touch people with your words. Like the Bronte-sisters.

Ellis Bell, huh? And who would you be?

Hana, maybe. The thought made you equally as sad as it filled you with hope.

But that was about all you did. And after hours and hours, the day neared its end. Eventually it was far past eleven, so you were sure he would be late tonight. Of course you were concerned. As you always were. You had no idea what his job was, but you could tell it was dangerous.

The man in his clean suit and a briefcase full of secrets.

When it got closer to midnight and he still wasn’t back, you decided to distract yourself, by getting yourself ready. You changed into a beautiful, white negligee with a neckline made of pretty, see-through lace. You loved it. The silk made you feel like you were the most beautiful girl on earth. And you were sure, once he saw you in it, he would totally destroy it. Chew it off or tear it down, whatever worked faster.

You did your hair down (it was slowly growing back and you barely thought back to the dreadful day that he cut it) and took a last glance at your appearance in the mirror. You smiled at yourself, something you rarely did, and eventually made your way back to his bedroom to surprise him. On his bed, wearing nothing but the negligee and a pair of…

Where were the handcuffs? You frowned as you glanced around and didn’t immediately find them. You bent down to look under the bed, but still no cuffs in sight. Your frown deepened and you gave another quick onceover, before you decided that they most likely were in the wardrobe.

You opened it and knelt down, finding the knife and several guns in the process. The small shudder brought you back to reality and you exhaled softly, before you sat back and looked at the countless weapons. Had he ever killed someone with them? Most likely.

But for a strange, inexplicable reason, you didn’t really care. Not really. Because it wasn’t real. Not then, not there, not in that moment. What was real, was him and his…

Desires.

You opened your mouth and closed it, before your fingers slowly closed around a small handgun. You swallowed thickly and carefully held it up, only to realize it was far heavier than you always assumed. The material felt cold and wrong in your hand.

Your mind involuntarily wandered back to the day he pressed one of them against your temple or…his. You closed your eyes. The thought of him…

Him…

With a shuddery gasp, the gun slipped through your fingers and landed on the carpet.

There was no thought more painful than that one. You couldn’t lose him. Not ever.

You loved him. And you loved him far too much.

Enough, to be what he wanted.

Enough, to give in to his desires.

You took another deep breath and picked up the gun again, determined to take it back to bed with you. You wanted to surprise him, right?

All you had to do beforehand was to make sure that it wasn’t loaded.

A frown formed on your face, when you realized you didn’t even know how to do that. The thought of accidentally shooting yourself, while waiting for him to come home…It didn’t sound all too appealing, though it did sound like something that could happen to you.

You sighed and already gave up the thought of ever finding the cuffs, when you caught sight of something else instead. It was far in the back of the wardrobe and you were sure, for some reason, you weren’t supposed to see it.

Of course you weren’t supposed to touch his gun, either, but you felt he would forgive you, once he realized you were slowly submitting to his every desire.

Even if it meant him fucking you, while he held a gun to your head. In your mouth…Or, God help you, somewhere else.

You were twisted. You were sure you were. Because you felt it. You felt how the thought did things to you.

But for now you tried to push the thought aside and instead glanced back at the box.

Then again, what terrible thing could be inside there?

Someone’s teeth maybe?

Your soft smile disappeared the second you realized it was possible. You nearly recoiled in disgust. But then you realized, you had to know.

It couldn’t be teeth. It was too sick. Too deranged.

Too…him?

No. No, no, no.

As if in a trance, you picked up the light, wooden box and took off the lid.

No teeth inside. Only…

Fuck.

What was in there was so much worse than teeth.

Your forehead creased into a small frown, which grew further with every second.

And suddenly you felt nauseous.

No.

Oh, no.

You nearly dropped the box and backed away like you’d been struck, the moment you heard it.

“Goddamn it." He sighed impatiently and the door slowly closed behind him. "You weren’t supposed to see that.”

___________________________________

Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q

Author's note: Did I lately mention that I love you, guys?

Ps. The Tteokbokki and the teasing were anon requests! I loved them and I hope I did them justice!

[fireinmoonshot]

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (Twisters) Summary: You're a new addition to the Storm Par team and Tyler finds himself fascinated with you from the very beginning.

It’s been a long and stressful day, so you assume that the group of tornado wranglers hanging about the large red truck by the stairs are feeling the same way as you – exhausted – and will let you head upstairs to get some much needed rest.

You are, however, incredibly wrong. 

“Hey, you’re the one with the Storm Par team, aren’t you?”

You force yourself to a stop on the first landing and turn to the group, all of their eyes staring up at you, and nod. “And you are the ones that make videos on Youtube.”

Boone, one of the only ones who’s names you’d gotten earlier today, laughs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, but I’m taking it as a win since you know who we are, as well as the other million people who subscribe to us.”

It’s hard not to smile at least a little at his cockiness. If you had a million subscribers on Youtube, you’d probably also have let it go to your head a little. 

You try and excuse yourself from the conversation then, assuming it’s over, and take a step towards the stairs, but yet again – you’re wrong. This time, it’s the tall, gorgeous blond man that speaks. Tyler Owens.

“I don’t think she’s subscribed to us, Boone.”

You can’t help it. You bite. “What makes you say that, Owens?”

He grins up at you from his spot on the back of the truck. “Am I wrong?” 

“That’s not an answer.”

The others in the group laugh and whoop, obviously enjoying the back and forward between the two of you. You assume that it’s rare for Tyler Owens to get that from anyone, let alone a fellow storm chaser that he’s never met before in his life. 

Tyler looks at you for a few moments without saying anything and you take that as your cue to leave, stifling a yawn as you turn away and head up the staircase. You can hear the others chattering back at the truck as you reach the top of the staircase and move to find your room, desperate for a warm shower and a comfortable bed. 

You’re so stuck in your own thoughts that you don’t hear someone bounding up the stairs behind you. 

“Hey, Storm Par,” Tyler Owens’ voice surprises you.

You look up from the key in your hand, having been checking your room number, and meet his eyes. “Were you that desperate for an answer on whether I’m subscribed to your Youtube channel that you had to follow me up here?”

Tyler chuckles to himself. “No, surprisingly not. Just figured I’d come and ask you how you’re doing and didn’t think you’d want an audience for that question.”

You’re a little surprised by his kind nature. Judging by what you’d seen of him so far, he was more of an act first, think later kind of person. And maybe he still was since he’d run after you so fast. 

“How I’m doing? I met you twelve hours ago.”

He flashes a grin. “I can’t ask someone I met twelve hours ago how they are?”

“Well…” You hesitate, a little lost for words. “I’m fine, just tired. I haven’t done this storm chasing thing in a couple of years and it’s going to take a bit of getting used to, especially working with a team like Storm Par.”

You don’t owe Tyler an explanation about everything, not about why you haven’t done it in years, nor why you’re a bit apprehensive about the Storm Par team. But you figure, since he’d been so kind to follow you up here to check in on you, a small explanation is the least you can offer him in return for his kindness.

Tyler nods. “Listen, I know my team can be a little much sometimes – in a good way, don’t get me wrong – but if you’re ever after a bit more fun than the suits and PhD’s of Storm Par, I’m sure we can squeeze you in.”

You snort. “They do not wear suits while storm chasing.”

“How do you know? You’ve only been here for twelve hours, Storm Par.”

Tyler smirks as you narrow your eyes at him. “Not my name, Owens.”

“Go and get some rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.” He can see that you’re exhausted, and even though you’re happily playing along with him, he’s not the type to push it too far. Especially when it comes to you, apparently. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”

“You gonna set up camp outside my room?”

“No, not for someone I’ve only known for twelve hours. But I will guard the stairs incase Javi or Scott come looking for you,” he smiles, amusement in his every word. “Go on.”

You listen to him, eyeing him carefully one last time before turning and heading towards your room, which you think is at the end of the corridor. Just as you’re putting your key in the lock, you hear him yell out behind you.

“If you can’t sleep, you can always look up Tornado Wranglers on Youtube!” 

[mixingandmelting]

Grocery Shopping

Summary: he goes grocery shopping with you for the first time

A/N: Damian's a little shorter considering his age and it would become a whole fic on it's own to talk what would happen with him 😂

Dick:

It’ll be fine, he said. Things will still go well, he said. He tried everything with you, keeping your hands in his, linking arms, keeping you between the cart and himself.  No matter what you both did, without fail, he ends up getting separated from you, quite tragically he might add. Now look at him, benched on one of the benches in the middle of the store in the result of getting lost who-knows-how-many-times from searching for you in the sea of people (all puns intended). 

Okay, so maybe he should’ve listened to you about never going to the store on the last day of sales. And all the other rules he had brushed off when you told him. However, he didn’t think the store would be  this  jammed packed with people treating it as a battle ground. There’s not a single villain in sight. No signs of foul play. Yet there’s civilians elbowing each other, fighting with their lives on the line.

“Is this, you know, normal???” 

“What do you mean? Have you ever shopped for groceries before?” 

He lets out a puff of air in frustration. This was supposed to be a couple’s date. One of those cozy-esque ones where he gets to spend more time with you in a normal setting. 

But It’s okay. He’s okay. You’ll be back soon and he’ll at least get to cuddle with you when waiting at the line that snakes from one to another corner of the store. Right? So let’s just hope no else finds out about this.

Cue his phone vibrating. Please don’t be what he thinks it is. Please don’t be what he think it is. He opens the text. 

… Dammit all. 

Of course it’s Tim asking if the person on the bench was him. Who else would attach a low res picture that’s obviously from the security camera ? In the group chat of all places too. Slowly he places his phone in his lap and rests his head on the cart. Never is he ever going to ignore those rules again. 

Jason:

He utterly underestimated the whole thing. He has to physically push and shove through people to take a step forward with a cart. He keeps having mini-heart attacks the second the warmth of your hands around his arm disappears from the fear of losing you, only for you to reappear next him with food and toiletries. At least he doesn’t have to worry about people putting their hands and taking stuff from the two of you as everyone so far quickly got second thoughts as soon as they took a glance at him. 

But the worst part wasn’t this. Rather-

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, pal!”

He leans over the handle, groaning as he rubs his face with his hands. Ugh. Just how many times does this make? Standing back up, he turns around and throws the same glare he’s already given to the five other guys he accidentally bumped shoulders with. And like them, this guy too flinches as he crane his head up from Jason towering over him. Then comes the stuttering “my bad” before booking it with his girl in tow. Tt. Pathetic. 

In his head, he realizes two things: one, you’re always right, and two, never suggest grocery shopping on a weekend afternoon. It explains why you were so irritated when he did and now? He’s going to lose it if anything, ANYTHING, happens at the cashier line (he saw how long it was when entering the store. It’s going to be at least an hour of waiting to even get close to the front). 

“Jason! Hurry up!”

Snapping his head towards the direction of your voice and he has so many questions. Since when did you grab the rest of the groceries? How did you get the other end of the store that quickly? 

With that, he sighs and quickly heads towards you, worried your arms might fall off or you getting hurt in general from how you’re trying to hold everything without dropping a single item. 

Tim:

He’s educated. He’s done his research on grocery shopping and knows the rules and what's in each aisle. So trust him to choose a time where it’s not too early and there aren't a lot of people, in hopes he could fulfill the couple’s goal of having wholesome bonding moments. But of course, putting what’s theoretical into real practice comes with a challenge. 

“Why is the cheese in the meat section?”

“Who places cereal next to the chips?”

“Is it even legal to have soda in the alcohol aisle???” 

This was not what was written on the blueprints. Breakfast aisle is meant to have breakfast foods, snacks aisle having the chips, and for fuck sake, is cheese not dairy? He was already concerned about how easily he cracked through security and accessed the blueprints. Now he’s wondering how in the world this store is functioning at all. There’s nothing special they’re selling nor are the prices cheaper. He genuinely can’t see why this place ranks so high in Gotham among the other grocery stores. 

The only reason for him to stay somewhat sane is your presence. Sticking right next to him where shoulders continually brush against each other whenever you two walk and sometimes placing a hand over his to placate him whenever he’s getting close. He appreciates it at the same time not whenever he catches you turning your head away from him. The tips of his ears burn but at least you’re trying stifle your laughter. 

“Come on, we’re almost done.” 

With a thud, his eyes widen when he recognizes the familiar logo on the case you dropped into the cart. Eyes going back between you and the case, he tears up as he finds out you’re the one that’s been restocking his energy drink with his favorite brand and flavor. He proceeds to nuzzle his cheek against your shoulder, thinking grocery shopping wasn’t so bad after all. 

Duke:

Many in the family other than Alfred don't understand nor appreciate the art of grocery shopping. But him? He knows the rules. Don’t get groceries on a weekend. Buy them in the morning rather than the afternoon. Fresh produce last, boxed and canned food first. Like please, he’s done it so many times that it’s a walk in a park. He even knows the go-to brands and their knockoffs if the store runs out of the former.

Shopping with you, there’s no hesitation when he turns the cart, heading towards the direction of the next destination for the next thing on the list. He weaves through the few people in the store while keeping your hand between his and the cart’s handle. At some point, joining you in inspecting and picking out which of the packaged food and produce to get. 

“Did you get the Spaghetti?” 

“Yeah, but you cool if we get this brand? It practically tastes the same as the other one and it’s buy-one-get-one free.” 

From how everything’s going with a breeze, he does all sorts of couple’s shopping shenanigans with you. Pushing you on the cart with your arms out like Superman, racing you to the end of the aisle. The only “problem” he would say the two of you are having at the moment are over snacks and soda. It started out with him preferring double-stuffed Oreos while you insisted Thin-Mints were better. Then the classic Pepsi vs Coca-Cola. 

“Tell me, are you going to eat my fruit snacks?” 

You’re holding a box of fruit snacks and shaking them in the air, waiting for him to give you the actual answer. So far, he’s been exercising his rights to remain silent by keeping his head turned away from you, shuffling side to side. And it’s helping him win, snorting when you huff and dramatically roll your eyes in annoyance before tossing them into the cart. Nice.

Damian: 

Everyone always assumes he doesn’t understand nor know what grocery shopping is. Oh, but how wrong they are. Grocery shopping with him could easily equate to being on a mission. He goes to your place and wakes you up at 7:17 AM on a Wednesday morning, demanding you get ready to go out while ignoring all your questions and protests about being woken up at an ungodly hour, on a day-off from school nonetheless. It’s as if he’s done grocery shopping his whole life, getting nit-picky over the quality of the fruit and vegetables while checking expiration dates on the back of the box of tea before placing them into the cart. 

It seems as if he’s being inconsiderate, expecting you to keep up with him while he’s trying to get done as efficiently as he can. In reality, he’s only trying to impress you with his vast knowledge and skills. Think of it as talking to someone who can identify fake versus real Prada bags. He’s dropping hints on how to tell if the eggs are fresh or not based on the shells, which bag of onions are the oldest. Comes off pretentious however, all with good intentions. Well, and also to impress you in his skills of knowing how to shop for groceries. But that's meh. 

Don’t think he isn’t noticing you sneaking things into the cart. He’s simply choosing to turn a blind eye to it, though his heart string twings when he recognizes half of them are his favorites. When you come back from who knows where, he grabs your hand and keeps it in his hand without a word, earning a grin from you while his cheeks turn dusty pink.

[wzrd-wheezes]

Smitten - James Potter x Reader

AN - Here's a little James fluff that I wrote and completely forgot about lol. Enjoy <3.

He’s smitten. Completely and irrevocably captivated. One glance from her and the world shifts on its axis. When she smiles, his imagination soars and his brain is all white doves and champagne toasts.  

Her laugh isn’t just a sound. It’s church bells on a spring afternoon. He’s not a religious man, but for her, he’d build a cathedral with his bare hands and worship at her altar forever. A simple curve of her lips and he’s envisioning vows under a canopy of twinkling lights, her name being the only prayer he’ll ever need. 

Pathetic. That’s what he tells himself when her hand brushes his. The fleeting touch sparking fireworks he swears other people could see if they looked close enough. In his mind’s eye, he’s already down on one knee, slipping a pretty ring onto her finger. He doesn’t even know her that well yet, but one thing he knows for sure: he’s done for. 

This isn’t like anything he’s ever felt. He’s dated before – flirted, kissed, even thought he’d loved once – but none of that prepared him for this. His heart races, his palms sweat, his cheeks flush whenever she’s near. 

“Mate, you’ve got it bad.” Sirius drawled, taking a long sip of his beer, “I’ve never seen anyone go full Romeo like this before.” 

“Romeo wrote poetry. I’m not writing poetry.” James shot back, leaning against the table. 

“Yet.” Sirius quipped, “Give it a week. You’ll be sitting in your room scribbling odes to her in your journal.” 

“That’s Moony’s thing, not mine.” James teased, raising his glass in mock toast towards Remus. 

Remus raised an unimpressed eyebrow but didn’t miss a beat, sticking two fingers up at James and rolling his eyes, “At least I have the self-respect to not get googly-eyed over someone I’ve spoken to, what? Twice?” 

“Three times.” James corrected automatically, only to wince when his friends dissolved into laughter. 

“You fall in love quicker than Sirius can down a pint.” Remus quipped, clearly enjoying himself. 

“So, when’s the wedding?” Sirius tormented, “or have you not planned it yet? Here, Moony, do you think Prongs is a spring wedding guy, or more of an autumn kind of thing?” 

“Spring.” Remus replied dryly, “Flowers blooming. Birds chirping. All very poetic.”  

“Obviously, there’ll be doves,” Sirius added, gesturing grandly as if arranging the scene. 

“Maybe throw in a harpist for good measure,” Remus suggested, deadpan. 

James groaned and dropped his head into his hands, “You two are insufferable-” He froze, mid-protest, his groan dying in his throat as the sound of laughter drifted across the pub. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, but the soft sound hit him square in the chest. 

 She was here. 

Of course she was. The universe had an impeccable sense of irony. 

Sirius, ever observant, followed James’s line of sight and grinned like the Cheshire Cat, “Oh, would you look at that.” He said, far too loudly for James’s liking. 

“Keep your voice down!” he hissed, “Shit. What’s she doing here?” 

Sirius and Remus exchanged a shifty glance with each other and Sirius took a slow sip from his pint, his grin growing more smug by the second.  

“You bastards!” James gasped, realisation dawning on him, “You knew she was going to be here! I thought it was weird that you picked this pub and not the Broomsticks!” 

Remus snorted, his mouth splitting into a cocky smile as he nodded. Maybe the universe wasn’t cruel, but his friends sure were.  

“Guilty as charged.” Remus sniggered. 

“Yep.” Sirius replied, popping the ‘p’, “Mary mentioned that they were coming here tonight. Thought you could do with a little push in the right direction.”  

“You planned this?”  James said incredulously, “You’ve been conspiring behind my back!” 

“More like wingmanning really,” Remus shrugged, “You go on about her all the time Prongsy. We were just... facilitating the inevitable.”  

“Right, and what was the grand plan?” James pretended to look annoyed but his heart was racing a little, “I’m supposed to just walk up to her now and –what? Spill my heart out?” 

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “If you want to. Or you could just start with ‘Hello’. You know, like a normal bloke.”  

“Or go and buy her a drink.” Remus drained the last drop of his beer and waved the empty glass in James’s face, “It’s your round anyway.” he winked. 

James hesitated, glancing across the room to where she stood. 

“Fine.” He muttered, raking a hand through his hair, “but if this goes sideways then I’m blaming you.” 

Sirius grinned, “Oh, it’ll go brilliantly. Go get her, Romeo.” 

Okay, Potter. Play it cool. Don’t trip. Definitely don’t trip. 

James’s heart hammered in his chest as he crossed the pub, the hum of chatter and clinking glasses fading into the background. All he could focus on her- and the pounding in his chest. She looked so effortlessly radiant, standing with Mary and Lily, a drink in her hand.  

Just say hello. He told himself. It wasn’t hard. Two syllables. Completely manageable.  

When her reached their table, she turned, her smile softening when she saw him. “James, hey! I didn’t expect to see you here.”  

Step one: complete. She remembers your name. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting, leaning casually against the table. Or at least, what he hoped looked like casually. 

“Hey. Yeah, funny coincidence, huh? Was just on my way to the bar when I saw you guys. Thought I’d come and say hello.” 

From across the room, Sirius fake coughed something that sounded suspiciously close to “liar!”. James ignored him, focusing entirely on her. As always. 

“Are you out with Sirius and Remus?” Mary asked, smiling at him knowingly. 

“Sat planning their next scheme I assume?” Lily grinned.  

“Probably.” James tried to slyly wipe his clammy palms on his jeans, “I’ve learned not to ask questions.”  

“Smart man.” Y/N smiled softly, “So, are you here to escape them?” 

“Something like that.” the tightness in his chest eased a little, “I’m just heading to get a drink. Do you want anything?” he directed the question towards her. 

“Oh, I'll come with you.” She said, standing up, “It’s my round anyway.” 

He barely managed to keep his face neutral as she fell into step beside him, the warmth of her presence making his brain short circuit.  

“So,” she said, glancing at him as they approached the bar, “Did Sirius and Remus drag you here, or was this your idea?” 

He hesitated for a second, scared that he’d been caught red handed. He could like, pretend this was all a coincidence, but something about the casual way that she asked made him think that she’s just making conversation. She doesn’t know. She can't know. She has no idea how often she’s occupied his thoughts, how ridiculous he’s been about her. 

“They had opinions of the venue,” he settled on, trying to keep his tone light, “Remus often drags us here – cheaper pints and all that.”  

She hummed, considering his answer and then picked up the menu, “So, what’s your usual?” 

James blinked. “My what?” 

“Your usual drink,” she clarified, throwing him a bemused look, “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those blokes who just orders whatever.” 

“Absolutely not.” James lied. 

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully, “You so are.” 

James shrugged, trying not to look thrown off, “I like to keep things interesting.” 

“Yeah?” she said, clearly unconvinced, “So what are you ordering then”? 

He opened his mouth to speak before realising that he doesn’t actually care what he drinks. He couldn’t order a beer, could he? That was far too predictable. A cocktail maybe? Then, to his horror, he blurted out, “What are you getting?” 

She lifted an amused eyebrow, “What, are you going to copy me?” 

“No,” James scoffed, as it that would be ridiculous, “I’m just... curious. Looking for inspiration.” 

She pursed her lips a little, scanning the selection of bottles behind the bar, “I was thinking a rum and coke.” 

“Excellent choice.” James said, as if he had any thoughts on rum and coke whatsoever. 

“That’s what you’re getting, isn’t it?” her lips twitched into a smile. 

He gestured vaguely, “I mean, if I happen to want the same thing-”  

She laughed, shaking her head as she places their order. James exhales, wondering if this conversation is going as awfully as it feels, but she seems relaxed, like this is normal.  

Which for her, it probably is. She doesn’t know. 

“You didn’t properly answer my question earlier.” she turned back to him. 

“Which one?” 

“Why this pub?” she tilted her head, “You guys are always at the Broomsticks.” 

Shit. Shit. 

“Oh, are you stalking me now?” he teased, “Change of scenery I guess.” 

She hummed again, clearly not buying it, but before she can dig deeper, the bartender returns with their drinks.  

James latched onto the distraction like a lifeline as he paid.  

“Cheers,” he said, lifting his glass. 

She clinked her against his, smiling easily, “Cheers, Potter.” 

His name sounds too good when she says it.  

When he returned to the table, Sirius is grinning like he knows exactly what’s going on.  

James pointedly doesn’t look at him. 

She doesn’t know.  

And maybe, for now, that’s for the best. 

“You’re gone, mate.” Sirius smirks. 

“Completely gone.” Remus agrees. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Breakfast Time

My son’s stuck in a time loop again.

He thinks I don’t know, of course. He’s never told me that this happens to him (or that he can do this, possibly; I’m not sure which it is.) Maybe I’m a bad mother, if I haven’t proven myself worthy of that trust. But there is only so many times that one can watch their son trudge through a day with bored impatience, anticipating everything you say just a little too quickly and showing no surprise to even the most surprising event, and then come downstairs the next day disoriented but rejuvenated and with a new zest for life and a tendency to get blindsided by even the most predictable things, before one makes the obvious connection.

I don’t think he’s lived through this day too many times yet, because he’s not frustrated by my good morning joke but not surprised by the monster attack being announced on the news. He eats his toast makes polite conversation that sounds just a little too rote until his sister comes down, and he puts his toast down in that distinctive way that make her eyes widen in sudden realisation, a reaction I never would have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. He told her about three time loops ago, I think, although it might’ve been earlier and I just never noticed the signal until then. I make sure to keep the smile on my face as I push a plate of toast towards her.

The thing on the news is some kind of flying beast, and my son’s eyes don’t leave the TV screen. I expect that calm, solid determination that I usually see in his expression on days like this, but instead he watches it only with a wary sort of calculation. I suppress a sigh – it looks like I won’t be remembering today, then.

The pair exchange glances and look to me. “Hey, mum, I figured we should go to school early. We’ve both got these big tests coming up and – ”

“Yes, fine, whatever. Go.” I know what you’re thinking – obviously they’re off to do something dangerous, and obviously they’re far too young for this sort of thing, and obviously I shouldn’t enable this, and I’m a terrible parent for letting them run off to maybe get themselves killed someday. But I put this to you:

How, exactly, do you expect me to stop them?

As my son heads for the door, though, I almost stop him. I consider, not for the first time, just telling him what I know, what I’ve figured out, and asking him to explain everything, to say where he’s going and what he plans to do about that thing and if his sister is involved and if they at least have help, to put my mind at ease. I don’t, though. Because, logically… I must have done that before, right? In at least one of the countless days that never happened. I must have gotten worried or angry or just fed up with this ridiculous charade and told him that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought he was. He has to know that I know, right? And yet, he still chooses to let it play out like this.

Or, perhaps, he told me once. That must have happened, right? I must have been there to help, to patch his wounds and dry his tears and listen to him confess his fears or his worries or his regrets about this big responsibility, about whatever he’s doing out there. He must have told me, at some point, at least once, in one of those nonexistent days. And afterwards, he chose not to tell the me that stuck around. Meaning that I must have given him some reason to keep this secret.

What did I do to him? What did I say to him? How bad a confidante must I have been, that he chooses instead to keep me in the dark?

They leave, they ‘go to school early’, and I start on the dishes. As I wash my daughter’s breakfast crumbs away, the plate slips from my fingers and shatters on the tiles at my feet. I sigh, and turn to get a broom.

Then stop. Pick up all the other dirty plates. And shatter them, one by one, on the tiles.

Then I leave the mess behind me, pull a full tub of rocky road ice cream out of the freezer, and resolve to spend the day eating junk and watching youtube videos. After all, it’s not like it’s going to matter tomorrow, right?

[bitter-me]

Flustered Biker Boy

Lighter | M. Reader

----------

Based on one of his Trust Events, where he got flustered/shy from being called handsome. So I took it and multiplied it by three.

----------

"The Red Scarf," "the Undefeated Champion," "the Champion of the Sons of Calydon."

So many titles just for one man. He must be a legend if people speak of him in such a way. Someone that could be considered as a myth. So surreal that there's no way someone like him truly exists. It's impossible to think one person has the ability fight at least 50 men. Alone. All at once. And emerge victorious.

Yet it's all true. That man does exist and that man...

Is currently trying to hide his face with his scarf.

[Name] laughs at Lighter's reaction. He had just called him handsome and he's already so flustered? Is this the same Champion they talk about in the Outer Ring? But hey, he's not complaining. It's cute~

"Is something wrong? Your face is red." To see Lighter's face slowly rivaling the red of his scarf is a sight to behold. A sight.. only for him to see. Oh what privilege.

Lighter didn't respond. Instead he just cleared his throat. "Anyways.." He tries to act all cool and suave. As if being called handsome earlier didn't affect him in such a way which only earned him another laugh from [Name].

----------

Hanging out with Lighter had always been a joy. Despite his appearance and the whispers about him. He's quite the character. A man of power who sometimes has a childish streak. Someone who can play along and have fun but act all serious when the situation demands it. Who wouldn't love someone like that? Someone from the Outer Ring?

"Oh, they have a couple discount on the milk tea." [Name] thought out loud the moment he read the sign in front of the store. With a cheeky grin he glances over at Lighter and instantly links his arms around the other, making a B-line to the store.

Lighter was about to ask what's wrong only to be cut off by [Name]'s next words. "Excuse me, we like to take the couple discount, please."

Heat instantly makes its way onto Lighter's face. He originally thought that they were in some kind of danger. That someone was stalking them and planning to strike, which is why [Name] linked their arms like that. Trying to lead both of them to safety or something, but no. He was wrong. There wasn't some bad guy for him to fight. No, this is a different fight. A battle against..

..Economy.

Oh the things they do for a discount.

Meanwhile [Name] is extremely happy with himself. They've gotten milk tea for half the price and saw Lighter trying to hide his flustered face by drinking his milk tea.

What a great day to be alive.

----------

In this quality time of theirs. The two decided to go to the Outer Ring. So far [Name] had always suggested something in New Eridu, making excuses that Lighter should learn a few things about the city. But this time it was his turn to learn about the Outer Ring with Lighter as his guide.

But of course, time flies by fast when you're having fun.

Getting off of the bike [Name] stretched out his limbs with a groan. He had nearly forgotten how long the ride was from the Outer Ring to New Eridu. However it was more than worth it.

"You know, I had fun today." He began slowly before planting a small kiss on Lighter's cheek and pulls away with a cheeky grin. "See you later, biker boy." And with that he went straight towards the front door. Leaving an obviously red Lighter alone on his bike.

The red scarf had always suited him. Making him quite the eye candy. But a red face would definitely make him ten times more handsome.

[ozzgin]

Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."