#you all would HATE my personal copies of books
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martyrbat · 2 years ago
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i scan and upload my personal copy of equus. i immediately get beaten to death by my book preserver mutuals. my ghost continues to underline
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shalom-iamcominghome · 7 months ago
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Tumblr is so bad about links in blogs, so I'm moving my book catalog to the (superior) LibraryThing. It has both jewish and secular books since it's a personal log of my books, but it's everything I have read/will read/own in general! If you want to see what's on my bookshelf, here is the link. Hope it inspires some reading in others!!
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vulpinesaint · 1 year ago
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it's me and all the women in literature described in despondent unhappiness in a marriage that they don't hate but don't enjoy as they should and who feel as if they're not the way a woman should be and who yearn to be free of their husband and children not because they despise them but because they're not for a husband and children and who can't say that they're miserable but who feel a numb kind of despair in all that disconnectedness and disconnectedness and disconnectedness. they are just like me for real
#we have the same kind of depression 👍 but also. i can see so clearly that that's the way i would be if i still thought i was a girl.#and i had grown up to get married to someone and tried to be a woman and a mother like that. god...#edna pontellier hold on. i'm going out into the sea with you. we'll drown together.#laura brown from the hours on my kin list 👍#need to reread the hours so bad. opened up my copy of it to check if laura had killed herself at the end or not for this post#and just skimming the last few chapters made me tear up. god. but there are still the hours aren't there? one and then another...#and then you get through that one and then my god there's another...#um. books that make you go 'okay so maybe i have wanted to kill myself a little bit all these years. but maybe i'm going to be okay'#the book ever honestly it is Everything to me#and kate chopin's the awakening is good as well. much to be said about the depiction of people of color in that novel#but the depiction of edna pontellier's mental state is so. ough.#glances at the ratings on goodreads nd stuff have made me so irritated.#god forbid a woman commit the ultimate selfish sin of leaving her children behind because she's so miserable by killing herself.#because far worse than the thought that she could be losing all her personhood moment by moment#and wasting her life away feeling like a shell of a person#pales. in comparison to the thought that she could POSSIBLY abandon the children she didn't really want to have.#of course it's a bad situation for the kids. sorry to raoul and etienne. but they will survive.#condemning the main character for having the audacity to go off and die... sickening. i hate people#valentine notes
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taylor-titmouse · 9 months ago
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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator
i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.
this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.
i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:
DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE
hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.
and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.
you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.
okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.
YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS
good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.
porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!
as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.
while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!
to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!
YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY
hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.
god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!
this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).
okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!
also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.
abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.
I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT
kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.
please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.
as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.
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ariaste · 2 months ago
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YIELD UNDER GREAT PERSUASION comes out on September 17th! (Edit: It's out now!!!!) It's a cozy M/M romantasy about second chances, the difficult journey to self-forgiveness, and a one-sided enemies-to-lovers situationship 👀 It's available from most book retailers in hardback, paperback, and ebook (with more retailers coming soon) -- links to most of the common ones right here. The cover art is by the amazing @holographings, check out more of his work!
SUMMARY: Tam Becket has hated Lord Lyford since they were boys. The fact that he’s also been sleeping with the man for the last ten years is irrelevant. When they were both nine years old, Lyford smashed Tam’s entry into the village’s vegetable competition. Nearly twenty years later, Tam hasn’t forgiven him. No one understands how deeply he was hurt that day, how it set a pattern of disappointments and small misfortunes that would run through the rest of his life. Now Tam has reconciled himself to the fact that love and affection are for other people, that the gods don’t care and won’t answer any of his prayers (not even the one about afflicting Lyford with a case of flesh-eating spiders to chew off his privates), and that life is inherently mundane, joyless, and drab. And then, the very last straw: Tam discovers that Lyford (of all people!) bears the divine favor of Angarat, the goddess Tam feels most betrayed and abandoned by. In his hurt and anger, Tam packs up and prepares to leave the village for good. But the journey doesn’t take him far, and Tam soon finds himself set on a quest for the most difficult of all possible prizes: Self care, forgiveness, a second chance... and somehow the unbelievably precious knowledge that there is at least one person who loves Tam for exactly who he is—and always has.
This book might be for you if:
You like enemies-to-lovers but you think it would be improved by being one-sided and meanwhile the other person is living through a “hopelessly yearning for childhood crush” trope
you like it when two people are so, so, so stupid that they’ve been fucking for 10 years and Person A hasn’t figured out that Person B is in love with him, and Person B hasn’t realized that Person A doesn’t even know about his feelings
You know how fucking hard it is to Do The Work In Therapy and you want some catharsis about it
you want to read about an imperfect, truly difficult person who still gets loved, because being perfect is not a requirement to deserve affection and care
you know that apologizing for wronging someone doesn’t just magically take away the bad feelings and automatically repair the relationship, and you want to read about someone having to do the extra steps that come after the apology
this one’s for the wlw: fat harvest goddess milf. my gift to u
you like gods who don’t have anything better to do than stick their noses into human business
when you see a gorgeous man holding an infant, it takes you out at the knees
you like queernorm fantasy AND small-town gossip, and you find the intersection of the two delicious and intriguing
a religion based on pre-Christian Brythonic England. That is, they’ve got henges and standing stones instead of churches and altars. it’s cool
plant magic!!!!!
“god of temptation and evil” actually “god of self-care and personal boundaries and taking responsibility for the consequences you consented to”.
"Alongside the sexiness and absurdity (and the sexy absurdity) in Yield Under Great Persuasion is a tender, resonant story of second and third chances and being loved when we need it most and feel we deserve it least. Evocative, emotional, and endlessly entertaining." —Jules Arbeaux, author of Lord of the Empty Isles Preorder links for most retailers are here! If you live in the US and you'd like to order a paper copy from the retailer that benefits me most (thank you!), that retailer is Allstora.
(Signal boosts are always greatly appreciated, thank you in advance!)
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deoidesign · 5 months ago
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How I save time on backgrounds as a full-time webcomic artist
Hi! I make webcomics for a living, and I have to be able to draw a panel extremely fast to keep up with my deadlines. I draw about 50 panels a week, which gives me about 45 minutes per panel if I want any semblance of a healthy work-life balance.
Most webtoon artists save time on backgrounds by using 3d models, which works for them and is great! but personally I hate working in 3d... I went to school for it for a year and hated it so much I completely changed career paths and vowed never to do it again! So, this is how I save time without using any 3d, for those of you out there who don't like it either!
This tactic has also saved me money (3d models are expensive) and it has helped me converting my comic from scroll format into page format for print, because I have much more art to work with than what's actually in the panels. (I'll touch on this later)
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So, first, I make my backgrounds huge. my default starting size is 10,000 x 10,000 pixels. My panels are 2,500 pixels wide, so my backgrounds are 4x that, minimum. Because of this, I make them less detailed than I could or that you might expect so it doesn't look weird against my character art when I shrink portions of it down.
I personally find it much easier to add in detail than to make "removing" details look natural at smaller sizes, but you might have different preferences than I do.
I also make sure to keep all of my elements on separate layers so that I can easily remove or replace them, I can move them to simulate different camera angles more easily, and it's simple to adjust the lighting to imply different times of day.
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Then I can go ahead and copy/paste them into my episodes. I move the background around until it feels like it's properly fitting how I want.
Once I've done that in every panel, I'll go back through the episode and clean up anything that looks weird, and add in solid blacks (for my art style) Here's a quick before and after of what that looks like!
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This makes 90% of my backgrounds take me just a few hours. This is my tactic when I'm working in an environment that an entire scene, or multiple scenes, will take place.
But many panels will inevitably have a location that's used exactly once, and it would waste time and effort to draw a massive background for those. So in 10% of cases, I just draw the single panel background in the episode. I save all of these, just in case I can re-use it later (this happens more often with outdoor locations, but I save them all nonetheless!)
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I generally have to draw about 2 big backgrounds per episode, and 3-5 single-panel backgrounds per episode! At the beginning of an arc/book the number is higher, but as the series is continuing and I'm building up an asset library of indoor and outdoor elements to re-use for the book, the number generally goes down and I save more time.
My series involves time travel and mysteries, so there's a lot of new locations in it and we're constantly moving around. If I were working on a series that was more consistent in this aspect, this process would save me even more time!
Like I said earlier, this also saves me a lot of pain and gives me a lot more options as I'm converting from scroll format to print format!
panels that look like this in scroll format...
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can look like this in print!
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because I drew the background like this, so I didn't need to go through the additional effort to add in the extra detail to expand it outwards at all.
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Anyways, I hope this helps someone! As always if it doesn't help, just go ahead and disregard. This is what I do and what works for me, and I feel like I only ever see time-saving tips for comics that involve 3d models and workflows, which don't work for me at all! I know there's more people like me out there, so this is for you!
Enjoy!
Also obligatory "my webcomic" if you want to see this in action or check it out!
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cusimmrbrightside · 3 months ago
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I have always liked the idea of the school for mutants being very literally a school, and I know yes it is but I mean in the sense of if you want to be an X-men, you have to be a teacher. They have exams at the end of years, they have Ofsted checks (for those who don’t know what they are, it’s essentially people coming to check that the school is good at being a school) and they have teachers for every subject, which brings me to my next point;
“I’m Right You���re Wrong, Here’s What The X-Men (‘97 specifically) Would Teach As Subjects”.
(Also this is based off of UK school system but I use American terms like “seniors” and “AP” and “Midterms”)
Maths Teacher Gambit is surprising, for a guy most assume to not being entirely smart, an idiot goof off who’s the comedic relief. But you need to know numbers to gamble, and that he does with being very well versed in mathematics way past an AP level. He’s made the promise for every senior class that he will teach them to play blackjack on the final day, and has only ever lost once. Which is when the rule of “no betting real money” came into place.
English teacher Jean reminds me of the kind of teacher who would let the social outcasts into her class for their lunch breaks. The kids more likely to be bullied and she will fight tooth and nail to make sure those kids bullies don’t come into that classroom. they’re loud and shout and shouldn’t really be in there but no one has to know and she certainly won’t be telling them to leave any time soon.
Physics teacher Magneto is very specific to my highschool experience I’ll be honest. I had a physics teacher who was an actual Dr with a PHD and he hated being there. His classroom has (well, had since the building was knocked down about 5 years ago now) this one cabinet that was never fully shut, it was always open just about an inch or two, and he’d stand with his foot hovering just above it and then slam down on it whenever we got too loud so the noise would shut us up. That’s very magneto coded. Erik Lehnsherr would purposefully make the cabinet always a little open so he can do that.
Biology teacher morph is just a funny concept, a person whose physical form and change and morph into just about anything. They are considered one of the “fun” teachers, you could easily convince them to let you watch a movie all class as long as it was biology centred, but with classics like Osmosis Jones, you’re not stuck watching a documentary about animals giving birth.
Chemistry teacher Storm does not fuck about with children’s education. She is not strict by any means whatsoever, she just will not bend to someone saying they want to watch a film or should do a practical instead of theory. She has a set curriculum. She knows what she will be doing by the first week of the summer holidays and already has the room set up all pretty and organised.
Geography teacher Scott has the unfortunate job of telling his students that, they just won’t be looking at memorising country flags and politics. But hey!! Rocks are cool!! Beach shores are cool! Lake formations are cool! He’s the vice principal and designated nerd teacher. He once beat the elite four for a student on their copy of Pokémon Red because the student promised they’d do well in their midterms. Yes, he was in his 30s when the game came out, he doesn’t care.
History teacher Logan is a walking fun facts book. He’s exhausted, goes on smoke breaks on every gap of time he has, dislikes his job and will randomly get passionate about one specific topic, and will then dedicate his next 4 classes to that topic. Having been through a lot of modern history with personal experiences, he’s able to bring a lot of souvenirs to show his classes. Bullets, helmets, clothes he once wore hundreds of years ago, his personal memories of basic inventions like the vaccine.
PE (physical education) teacher Rogue is full of fun sports games, you can join any kind of sports team you can imagine and if you ask nicely enough, she’ll put Just Dance on a projector in the sports hall so you can just play that instead of actually play an actual sport. As long as you leave her class exhausted and without time to have a shower before your next class then she’s succeeded in making whoever your next teacher is absolutely miserable (bonus points if it’s Logan with his enhanced sense of smell).
Art teacher jubilee does believe that there is a right way to critique art. And she can be a little in your face about it. She does think you can have wrong opinions especially when it comes to your own art. If she overhears you saying you didn’t something wrong, she’ll scream into a megaphone “adapt, improvise, overcome!”. There are no mistakes! She’s eccentric, bubbly, creative and brilliant, the only one suited for the job.
It wouldn’t be a school without budget cuts. That’s why Nightcrawler is both the languages and religions teacher and he’s beloved at both. He comes up with roleplay scenarios the students can play to help learn their chosen languages, he has varied religious texts in his room and when he says to the students “I’ll pray for toy during exam season” he’s not actually joking.
(I forgot about Hank I’m actually going to cry he’s one of my favourites and I forgot about him. He’ll be in pt two or smth.)
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00-jammy-00 · 4 months ago
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YAN FUCK BOY HAS ME FOAMING AT THE MOUTH
Can you do a one-shot where he is constantly trying to get reader to sleep with him, but they are busy trying to maintain their own athletic scholarship?
-🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 anon
Yan!Fuckboy HC’s
Yan!Fuckboy x GN! Athletic! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, pathetic yan, nsfw mentions, horny yan
A/N - I wasn’t sure if you wanted this as an established relationship so I just made it like that anyway, I also tried to leave the sport as unlabelled as possible 😭 This is also a bit short so I’m sorry 🙏🙏
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Yan!Fuckboy who was never known as a patient man, especially when it came to things he wanted. So when his own partner decided that they would rather be playing sport than be around him? He felt like strangling the next person who came near him.
Yan!Fuckboy who will never deny that he loves seeing you play. I mean seeing your ass in that tight uniform stirred up all different kinds of feelings inside of him but when you were neglecting him for it? No.
Yan!Fuckboy who tried his usual tricks to get you to pay attention to him. When you closed your locker, he stood there leaning against it with a rose in his mouth, he would walk you to and from classes, he would drag you to his practices to show off how cool he was while also going to yours to cheer you on from the stands and yet none of it worked.
Yan!Fuckboy who quickly got irritated and started to whine, he clung to your arm constantly while begging you to touch him. He was soooo horny baby! Why couldn’t you see that?! Even when you were over at his house you told him that a comp was coming up so you couldn’t have sex. Now he had to play fucking animal crossing alone and he couldn’t even rant about his ugly villagers because you were too busy doing fucking sit ups.
Yan!Fuckboy who got sick of it when you stopped mid make out session to go practice because your alarm went off. You’re fucking joking. He was seething. You were so pretty when you were training but he’s getting so sick of it. He’s horny! He needs you!
Yan!Fuckboy who eventually just ripped you away from practice. He was your boyfriend, you were his. You were going to win anyway, he bribed every referee for your games so why the fuck were you worrying about this?!
Yan!Fuckboy who practically drags your ass into the bedroom. He was going to get his dick wet whether it was by him fucking you or you pounding him with your usual sweet, sweet hate sex. He was only satisfied after you both passed out
Yan!Fuckboy who cuddled you for days afterwards. He finally had you to himself without a single book in sight. Safe to say, when you won your next games, he gave you a good celebratory dinner and some even better sex.
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3
please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
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naeverse · 1 year ago
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Lapdog
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🐩staring: NerdMiguel x QueenBee Reader
💗 preview: “Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.
“It does…doesn't it?
🌸Summary: You, Queen Bee, have been desiring a little assistant for a while—someone who can fetch you things, do your work, assist you in any way possible, and just make life much easier. However, after witnessing a surprising occurrence with one of the lamest students on campus, Miguel O'Hara, you believe you've found just that, and maybe something even better...
💗rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I
🐩tw/cw. Blackmail, Caught in the act, College AU,  Demeaning, Desperation, Dirty talk, Dominance, Handjob, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Ownership, Public Masturbation, Power Differences, Praising, Public, Sex toys, Vibrator, etc…
🌸Word count: 9k
(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)
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Small, quiet whimpers escaped the lips of the burly man to your left. His head lowered in an attempt to hide as he diligently tackled your college work. His large, left hand trembled while he solved long math equations, expressions, logarithms, and whatever else the packet held. You shifted your gaze from the four-eyed male to two others seated at your booth.
Peter B. Parker, the captain of the football team and the golden boy of the school, sat across from you, alongside his girlfriend, Mary Jane Watson, or MJ, who was the editor of the college newspaper. They cuddled up against each other, with MJ on his chest and his arm wrapped around her.
The two were considered your "friends" at the university, forming the famous clique that instilled fear and envy in the entire student body. However, between the adored football jock and the news girl, you, on the other hand, were a much bigger deal. 
Everyone knew your name, and if they didn't, you were seen as an utter disgrace due to your cluelessness.
You were known as the university's queen bee.
Everyone loved or hated you; you didn't care. Any attention was welcome. You were the leader of the notorious sorority house of baddies, with a rich family that could drop and sue anyone with the drop of a hat. You could control the student body in masses with just a word, and had everyone, even the staff, wrapped around your pretty, manicured finger. 
Whatever you said went, and don't you fucking dare think otherwise; you'd be an idiot to challenge the queen. Having the ability to turn any person into a complete nobody, withering away in debts and charges, kept everyone in their place.
But you wouldn't exactly say Peter and MJ were your friends, just students at college who possessed a certain kind of power that was highly useful to have in your corner.
Peter and his kind, sweet persona solidified bonds with other universities and the dean themselves. He was the face of your campus and was hella popular.
MJ headed the media, and whatever she said or wrote in the newspaper or the college blog was believed by everyone on campus, even if it was false.
Not that anyone would know...
Peter, MJ, and you were at the top of the food chain at your university; no one else mattered and was worth the time.
So why the hell was this lowlife sitting at your booth?
Miguel O'Hara, known as the nerdiest of the nerds on your college campus, sat beside you at your usual booth in Mama's diner, your clique's hangout spot.
To be fair, you didn't classify Miguel as such; more of a loner because he didn't look like a nerd. His body was covered in bulging muscles that contrasted greatly with his quiet persona. He had a towering height that rose above most of the football team, and he got attention from girls.
Or, well...
Girls gave him attention, not like the guy minded them.
He kept to himself, always having his nose stuck in a book. To make him even more of a dork, he worked at the school library. Due to his elusive nature and  how hard he was to categorize, the loner had gained a distasteful reputation; many students on campus hated him as a result. 
Was he a jock due to his bulging muscles, a bad boy due to his mysteriousness and constant desire for solitude, or was he a nerd for always being found reading, and whenever he spoke, only intellectual things came out?
He was a tricky case.
And not one you cared about until today…
You never would have paid the introverted male any attention if it weren't for you, this morning, stumbling into the library in search of someone to do your homework. Instead of finding a lowlife in waiting, you found something much better…
You found Miguel in his office, located at the far back of the library, moaning and jerking off under his desk. To make matters worse, AirPods adorned his ears, blocking out any awareness of your presence. You even leaned over his shoulder to discover that he was clearly watching porn.
He was definitely an amateur...
But a needy little thing he was...
The sight before you was an honest gold mine, something that would be perfect for MJ to post on the school blog as you captured a video of the surprising occurrence.
It was hard to fathom how much his reputation, if he had one, would plummet once the entire school got a look at this. But then, being the cunning queen you were, you had a better idea for that video…
You decided to use it as a means to have an around-the-clock assistant that would come running at your every beck and call, at any given time. It was a great idea, especially with the lowlife not being unpleasant to the eyes. 
So now here he was, being a good little puppy for you and doing your homework, except...
It didn't seem like your associates were too pleased with your puppy’s presence.
You met Peter's gaze, his amber eyes furrowed in confusion as he glanced from you to the muscular loner and back again. "Okay, why the hell is he here?" he finally asked after a while of just staring at the two of you. A smirk spread across your lips at his question. "I believe you have eyes, Peter. He's doing my homework," you simply said with a sly grin, continuing your subtle movements under the table, which only made the geek clench his pencil even more.
Peter and MJ recognized that look on you, that sneaky smile you wore whenever you were up to no good. But this time, they couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and how it involved the four-eyed freak.
MJ looked between you and Miguel as well, her cherry lips pursing. "Why here, though?" she asked, her head still resting against Peter's chest. "Most of the time when we meet at Mama's diner, we gossip, we talk about deep stuff. We can't do that with him here," she acknowledged, motioning to Miguel in the corner, who seemed very focused on solving a long ass math problem.
You couldn't help but look over at him as well, taking in the sight of his heavy breathing and faintly red cheeks, before looking back at your associates, who still wore expressions of confusion and discomfort. You huffed, giving them a fake pout. “Come on, Miguel won't utter a single word to anyone...
Now, would you?”
You asked, turning to look at the large Latino, his amber orbs covered with a pair of black eyeglasses as he remained silent, adamantly trying to avoid eye contact. You scowled, giving him a tight squeeze, followed by a deep stroke making him jolt. His eyes briefly rolled, his mouth stammering, trying to find his words. “No… I won't.” He said so low and deep you had to lean in to hear him.
You could visibly see him struggling, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he tried painstakingly to control his breathing. You grinned, watching him return to work on your math packet like a good little puppy. “See? He can be trusted.” You explained with a smile, continuing your tantalizing play on the nerd, which only made the Latino male suck in a breath and grip his pencil tighter.
You swore you thought the wooden tool would snap in two any second now…
“Fine, but what made you want to bring him of all people?” Peter asked next, turning your gaze onto him. “He holds no power at our Uni. He’s useless to us.” He said with a chuckle, running his fingers through his girlfriend's red hair. You chuckled at his belief that the four-eyed male was ‘useless’; 
Currently, he was everything but…
“You know how much I wanted my own little assistant for some time.” You replied with a smirk, tracing Miguel under the table, feeling your fingers begin to become further coated in his essence. “As in someone who can fetch me things, do my work,
Satisfy my every need…”
You abruptly squeezed Miguel once more, a sudden audible groan passing his lips, gaining everyone's attention. Peter and MJ glanced over at Miguel with raised eyebrows before just brushing it off as the geek having one of his weird moments. 
Subtly, you shot the dweeb a glare, making his ears redden and clear his throat. He flicked his pencil around in his thick fingers, beginning to erase a mistake he made due to your harsh grip before you turned back to your associates with a nonchalant smile.
“Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.
“It does…doesn't it?”
You whispered, glancing over at Miguel, who was trying not to acknowledge your gaze, seeming to be very interested in the ways of Calculus II. 
“Aww… Peter, you know me so well.” You thought with a small grin, continuing to stroke the trembling male. You could feel the dweeb strain underneath his black jeans, enjoying how greatly he was trying to hide his pleasure. With your thumb, you brushed over his sensitive tip, making him whimper loudly, despite his effort to suppress it by biting his lip.
You shot him another stern look, slightly relieved to hear a groan of annoyance from MJ at the same time. At her outburst, it drew your attention over to her to see she was looking over at the workers in Mama's diner who were diligently working in the kitchen area of the diner. “Gosh, we've been sitting here for 20 minutes, and our order still isn't here.” She whined, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouty child in the grocery store. 
“Come on, baby, it should be out in a little bit,” Peter whispered, trying to comfort her. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at her dramatics. MJ always did this to get attention, Peter’s attention in particular, who you’ve noticed was staring at you a lot more than usual upon entering Mama’s diner today.
You met MJ’s blue eyes, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Actually, why don't you two go check it out? See what's the hold-up?” You proposed, glancing over at Miguel to see his defined Adam's apple bob at your words, his nervousness only exciting you further.
Oblivious to your proposal and the fact that you, the queen, said it, Peter and MJ nodded and slid out of the booth. You watched in the corner of your eye as they walked away from your table and towards the front of the diner. 
‘Now the fun can begin…’
You thought, a wicked grin spreading across your glossy lips. With them gone, you wanted nothing more than to have some fun with your new puppy. You turned in your seat to finally make eye contact with the panting male, and you couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.
The dweeb’s coffee-brown curls were plastered to his sweaty forehead, his amber orbs hooded behind his glasses while his grip on his pencil was slowly loosening. Breathy moans escaped his parted lips as his hips thrust softly into your hand, his eyes rolling with each of his movements.
Upon the two leaving the table, it seemed the nerd had completely dropped his facade, showing just how needy he was.
You laughed, glancing down to see the mess he was making in his black jeans. A small wet patch gradually soaked the zipper and crotch of the denim. “I knew you didn't finish in the library.” You teased, continuing to stroke him. He grunted, shifting in the booth to better angle himself into your clenched palm. “I couldn't…You interrupted me.” He replied hoarsely, making you raise an eyebrow. You abruptly gripped his cock at his response, making him whine.
“I interrupted you?”
You scoffed, not believing the balls on this nerd. “You have more mouth than I thought, Miguel O'Hara.” You hissed, releasing him and drawing down his pants, exposing his huge member fully. His hooded eyes instantly snapped open, deep pants passing his lips. “What are you—what are you doing? Someone could see.” He exclaimed through stammers, his amber eyes blown in a mixture of lust and worry as they looked all around in fear of someone being near.
You rolled your eyes at the nerd’s empty concerns. Your clique's favorite booth was positioned in the back of the diner, completely secluded. Of course, you’ll take precautions; you wouldn’t want someone to capture the sight of you having fun with a loser like him, so the idiot was fine.
Not that you cared at the moment...
“I honestly don't know what you're so worried about. You didn't seem concerned about someone seeing you when you were jerking off this morning.” You taunted, earning an angry growl from him, his cock twitching a little at that recollection. “Mierda, I didn't know anyone was there. The library is always empty in the mornings.” He said in a low voice, his tone rough and holding so much spite in it.
You couldn't help but chuckle at his anger, as if he could do anything about it. His massive body was stuck on the inside of your booth, his well-endowed cock and balls out on display.
He was completely vulnerable to you…
Your eyes trailed him, taking him in slowly, and to your surprise, you found yourself licking your lips at the sight.
Even though the dork was a lowly peasant at your school, carrying his stupid little textbooks and allowing the jocks to beat on him when he had the muscles and height to beat their asses ten-fold.
He had an impressive cock…
It was fully erect, sticking straight up into the air with a small patch of dark brown, coarse hair sitting atop his dark shaft, trailing an irresistible line up under his beige sweater. His cock was long, girthy, and definitely above average, with a brown, angry tip dripping with precum, begging to be tasted and played with.
During your moment of ogling, his large, veiny hand hastily covered the oddly magnificent sight, snapping you from your trance. You glared up at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, coffee-brown curls that hung over his framed eyes, and his attempt to cover his enormity between his legs with his hand.
“Move.” You sternly said, your tone showing just how annoyed and furious you were. You crossed your arms over your white-clad chest, awaiting the loser to obey, but surprisingly, he did no such thing. Miguel simply clenched his jaw, averted his gaze from you, not at all listening to the order you’ve just given him.
Your glossy lips pulled into a snarl, not remembering the last time someone would dare be defiant towards you, but it seemed this nerd, loner, whatever the hell he classified as, was something different…
He knew who you were, yet he was disobeying you, talking back, and worst of all…
Not submitting.
You’ve met many infuriating individuals, but he had to take the cake.
Your jaw clenched, trying to keep your composure and remind yourself that you needed him around because you were a hair's breadth from reaching into your bag and grabbing your phone to do the unthinkable. You cleared your throat, sliding so close to him that you could feel the heat of his bare, thick thighs against yours under the short, expensive pink skirt you adorned.
You brushed a strand of his coffee-brown hair behind his ear, noticing how he flinched slightly before leaning in close.
 “Move your hand, or I'll make sure to send that little video of you jerking off to MJ. I think she’ll enjoy posting that onto her little blog for the whole college to see.”
You whispered into his ear, the threat striking the nerd greatly. A wave of satisfaction rushed through your being when he turned to face you, his amber eyes narrowed in rage, but a hint of fear evident in them as well. “You wouldn't,” he said, calling your bluff in a rough, breathless voice which only made you laugh.
“You must really be living under a rock on campus if you think I’m bluffing,” you chuckled darkly as the nerd gulped. “Now…” you began, glancing down at his shielded hand over what you desired. “Unless you want the entire college to know how much of a needy little puppy you are, you will move your damn hand and allow me to do whatever I please.” You sternly said, looking down at his trembling hand and then up at him.
You found it utterly adorable how he tried to keep your hardened gaze, but he would learn that when you want something, you’ll get it no matter what.
He cursed softly, running a frustrated hand through his messy coffee-brown curls. He captured his bottom lip in his teeth and reluctantly moved his hands, placing them on either side of him on the booth’s cushions. You smirked at his obedience. “Good boy,” you praised in a teasing voice, patting his head like the doggy he was; however, he yanked away. You scoffed at his defiance.
‘It seems my puppy needs more training. No worries; he’ll submit if he likes it or not.’
You thought, casting your eyes down to meet his painfully hard and erect cock. Biting your lip, you wrapped a hand around his base, feeling how brick and sticky it was in your palm.
But before granting your puppy the sweet release he desired, he had a lesson to learn…
You harshly gripped his shaft, earning a loud groan to escape his throat. “I'm very pissed at you. Want to know why?” You asked, squeezing his cock even more, making him hiss. He clutched the cushion of the booth in his large hands, clenching his jaw once more. “Why?” He said through gritted teeth.
"Why? You nearly got us caught with those outbursts, idiot," you spat, finding a rhythm and stroking him roughly under the table. His abundant precum allowed you to smoothly run your fist along him. He groaned, his head falling back against the booth.
"Maybe... you should f-fucking stop then," he said through pants, which only made you giggle. "Oh, I'm just finishing what you started in the library, puppy," you said with a fake pout.
"And here I thought you liked getting off in public places."
Miguel moaned softly at your words, his cock twitching in your hand in response. You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh? Don't tell me that's the truth," you teased with a soft chuckle, knowing you'll surely have some fun with that hidden kink of his in the future.
However, no response was heard from him, defending nor agreeing with your proposal; only the occasional low moans and groans escaped his lips. You snarled, pressing your thumb into the crown of his tip, eliciting a rewarding jolt and a Spanish curse to fall from his lips.
"If you won't respond to that, then answer this," you hissed, nose scrunched up in disgust as you continued your stroking. "You act all big and tough when you're alone with me, yet you curl up into a little ball when others are around," you stated with a smirk. "Why is that?"
"Because you don't fucking scare me," he said angrily with a steady voice. You scoffed in amusement, your eyes roaming over his bulging muscles through the sleeves of his beige sweater—the fabric appearing strained. "And others do?" you retorted with a snicker, causing him to growl in annoyance and look away. "It's not like that."
"Oh yeah, then what is it?" you inquired, purposely quickening your pace on his shaft, stroking him faster and pressing your palm into his length, the desire to see him lose control driving you. He whined and whimpered uncontrollably, his large hand landing on your thigh, gripping it tightly through your skirt, urging you to slow down.
You sighed heavily; Miguel was so frustrating. The dweeb's mouth constantly spoke of defiance and disrespect, while his body contradicted him each time—his hips steadily moved in sync with your palm, and his member twitched in your hand. It seemed even he was confused about what he wanted, but being the sweet master you were, you'd assist him in discovering his true desires.
But first, he had to be taught to fix his attitude because he was really pissing you off.
You brushed the pad of your thumb over his tip, intensifying his pleasure with every jerk of your hand. "I don't like your attitude with me," you said angrily, smacking his hand off your thigh and grabbing his chin.
You roughly turned him to look at you, his eyes dazed behind his black glasses, and his lips parted. "I hold the power of your entire reputation in my hands. I can get your big ass kicked out of this damn college just by showing the dean that video of you," you warned, looking at his face in complete rage.
"Do you fucking understand me!?" you exclaimed, your nails piercing into the underside of his chin. Your eyes glared daggers at him as you continued to slide your hand up and down his trembling shaft.
He clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as his hand landed on your wrist, deep groans continuing to pass his lips at your movement. "Y-yes, fuck," he moaned, biting his lip. "Yes to what?" you demanded, seeking clarity. With your thumb, you caressed in small circles around the crown of his tip, a smirk spreading across your glossy lips when his grip on your wrist tightened. "Yes, I-I... understand," he said, his deep voice sounding rather airy and breathless.
"Good boy," you whispered, tilting your head at him and glancing down to see more pre-cum sprouting from his tip, dripping down his shaft and coating your hand. Miguel growled. "What do you even want from me?" he asked through trembles of pleasure, his cock twitching in your fist. Your smirk broadened, turning your attention from his cock to the four-eyed male, his chin still resting between your manicured fingers.
"You heard that conversation between Peter, MJ, and me, did you not?" you inquired with a raised eyebrow, making him heave a trembling sigh. "Lapdog, right? That's what you want?" 
"Indeed," you chuckled, releasing him. He whimpered, his thighs quivering, as heavy pants passed his lips. He rubbed his chin, pressing his backside into the leather cushions and breathing heavily. You reached over him, grabbing a few napkins from its container to clean your hands, feeling Miguel's eyes on you all the while.
When you met his gaze, you weren't surprised to see the sight of anger and irritation, but what did surprise you was the hint of curiosity found in his intense gaze.
'Was the dork interested in being your puppy?'
"Why?" he finally asked after catching his breath. You laughed, turning to him with a wicked grin. "The better question is... 
Why not?"
You replied with a snicker. Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed once more. "And you want me to be your damn lapdog?" he asked, full of spite and rage, his amber eyes appeared redder than usual, but it didn't faze you. "Yes, or that video goes out to everyone," you said with a grin, your eyes lingering along his body. "And I think everyone would be rather shocked to see what you've been hiding under all that ugly clothing," you chuckled, motioning down at his massive and still very hard cock.
He snarled, looking away from you and out the window beside him. A silence fell upon the two of you as you simply took him in—his defined cheekbones, broad nose, thick neck, and massive body covered in a hideous beige sweater, black jeans, and white Converse.
'Goodness, this is going to be fun. The most fun I've probably had in years.'
You thought, faking a pout and leaning towards him to press your plush lips against his ear. He jumped slightly at your closeness, making you giggle as you ran a hand over his chest, tracing his defined pecs and abs through his sweater.
"Come on, puppy. Don't be so mad; you might even enjoy it."
You teased, and to your anticipation, his cock throbbed in response. He groaned lowly, your chest covered in a white crop top pressing into his arm. "It’s not like I have a damn choice," he retorted, his voice still resonating with fury. 
"Well… get used to it."
You uttered, licking a stripe across his sharp jawline and enjoying how he shuddered at the feeling. You then pulled away, his amber eyes following you like the needy puppy he was.
"Now, every doggy needs a collar," you uttered with a smile, causing him to scowl. "I’m not wearing a damn collar."
"So quick to assume, puppy," you laughed, only seeming to enrage the geek even more. "Stop calling me that," he growled, causing you to sigh, finding it rather annoying how he still believed he held some type of control here. 
He'll learn sooner or later.
"You’ll grow to love it, puppy," you emphasized, turning from his faltering glare to rummage in your $500 Prada bag, fishing out a toy you purchased just for your little doggy. When you acquired it, you turned to him, twirling the dark blue and red crystallized ring in your fingers. Miguel's eyes followed it, his chest heaving in confusion and disdain, but his cock pulsated in desire and curiosity.
He could scowl and glare at you all he wanted, but his body gave him away, every single time.
“What the fuck is that?” He snapped, once he regained his composure, his amber eyes looking from the ring to you through his black eyeglasses. You chuckled, running your fingers along the ring. “After our little run-in at the library this morning, I bought my new puppy something special.” You explained, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The geek looked perplexed for the first time.
 It was a cute look on him…
“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be fun. I promise...” You giggled, glancing down at his dark cock, still twitching in desire. You then held your hand out to him, the large ring resting in your palm.
“Now…show me how much of a good doggy you can be and put this on…”
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“Ugh, they are saying it's another 20 minutes.” MJ groaned, climbing into the booth right after Peter. You heaved a sigh in irritation; Mama's diner was never this backed up. It was rather annoying to think you all would have to wait just for three measly milkshakes.
“So, what’s the two of you been doing? He looks like he’s about to fucking faint.” Peter joked, glancing over at Miguel, whose bronze face was covered in beads of sweat. His amber eyes trained on the packet of math work once more. You chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. The math problem must be stressing him out.” You said with a smile, subtly glancing over at your phone that rested beside you on the booth, the vibrator app pulled up on the screen that was already at level 2.
The ring that you had bought for your new puppy was nestled around the base of his cock, right over his balls, stimulating both of his sensitive areas. You gave him the benefit of the doubt to cover himself; you weren’t a total meanie.
You just needed him to know his place, as it seemed he kept forgetting.
So you decided to seat him in front of two of the most popular students at your college with a pulsating vibrator around his cock. 
What better way for him to learn...?
"Okay…" MJ trailed off, brushing off the situation as nothing. "Umm, what even is his name?" She asked, talking about Miguel as if he wasn't even there. At her inquiry, you turned to your puppy, giving him a soft pat on the head. "Tell her your name," you said sweetly, noticing the subtle glare from him. "Miguel," he responded in a gruff voice without looking up from the packet.
"Your full name," you added with a smirk, wishing to further annoy him. The dweeb’s jaw clenched at your persistence. "Miguel O’Hara," he growled, hastily returning to solving question 24 of your math packet. MJ looked between the two of you, taking in the interaction before leaning across the table, her blue eyes set on you.
“Seriously, what are you up to with him?” 
She asked in a hushed tone like no one at the table could hear her as her red eyebrows furrowed in concern. You scoffed, not believing that she would dare to ask you such a thing.
“Why the hell are you questioning anything that I do?” You spat angrily. “The fucking dweeb is just doing my damn homework,” you said, your eyes glaring into hers.
Perhaps, the load of hair upon MJ's head was the cause of her forgetfulness. Regardless of the culprit, the redhead better keep in mind how much you love fixing her mistakes and kicking her back into line if she oversteps.
You've done it to so many others, she'll be no different…
“Hey, hey, settle down,” Peter said, trying to calm the situation between the two of you. The tension in the air was so thick, it could be sliced with a spoon, let alone a knife.
“There's nothing wrong with what Y/N is doing,” Peter said, placing a hand on MJ’s shoulder and pulling her back towards his chest. MJ sighed, giving you an apologetic look. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” You rolled your eyes, dismissing her as you met Peter’s eyes that also looked between Miguel and you. “Although, I must say…” He began, and to your surprise, settled his amber eyes onto Miguel.
You smirked, loving to see how the aroused geek would handle this, your eyes trained on him. Miguel, noticing the lack of conversation, hesitantly looked up to be met with six eyes staring back at him.
“How the hell are you so…massive?” Peter asked with a chuckle. “You don’t do shit except read, play chess, or whatever else you nerds do.” Peter jested, causing everyone, except Miguel, to laugh. Your eyes were trained on Miguel as he glanced over at you and back at Peter before clearing his throat. “Genetics.” He mumbled, returning back to writing out the parametric formula to solve the equations he was on.
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, the introverted male’s words not seeming to have reached his ears. “What did you say? Speak up, man.” He laughed, causing Miguel to clench his jaw once more. His pencil halted upon the paper as he casted his amber eyes up to the jock. “Genetics. That's all it is.” He repeated in a louder tone.
“So, you are telling me, you do not work out?” MJ asked in surprise and awe, her blue eyes roaming over his body. You were certain she was checking your new puppy out.
You growled, oddly, shooting a glare at her.
You didn’t know what was with her today, but MJ was working your last nerve.
MJ, thankfully, shut up after your look, but your puppy answered anyway. “A little,” he replied, twirling the pencil in his thick fingers nervously. You couldn’t help but gaze at him—his massive musculature snug under his beige sweater that seemed to hug him in all the right places.
His biceps bulging, his hardened pecs defined, and you could even sneak a peek at his abdominal muscles pressing against the warm fabric. You bit your lip, the desire to get him out of that ugly sweater filling your being until you shook off the thought.
The damn dweeb was making you forget your title and your reputation…
But you couldn’t lie. 
The geek was exceeding your expectations…
Not only was he impressive for being at the very bottom of the student hierarchy and having the ability to make you feel all hot and bothered, but despite his cock being heavily stimulated by the vibrating ring, his voice didn't waver or falter.
Your puppy was tougher than you thought…
‘We’ll see about that.’
With a click of your phone, you raised the vibrations from a mere 2 to a 5. Instantly at the change, Miguel jolted in his seat. You watched with a look of pure innocence on your face as Peter’s eyebrows furrowed.
He snickered, eyeing the glasses-wearing male across from him at the table. “Man, you are weird as heck, but I’ll let it slide,” he said with a smile, glancing over at you, his eyes full of admiration. “If the queen here can put up with your presence, which is rare,” Peter snickered, “I’ll be willing to open a spot on the team to see how you do,” he proposed, which shocked you.
It was hard to get on Peter’s football team, yet he was practically giving it to Miguel, the most disliked male at school, on a silver platter.
You couldn’t help but feel a little angry at that, slowly becoming a bit possessive over your new puppy.
But thankfully, Miguel said the words for you. “I-I’m not interested,” he uttered, clearing his throat and clenching the pencil tightly in his large hand. You smirked, watching Peter’s eyebrows rise in shock. He glanced over at MJ, who had become quiet after your glare.
“This dude is really turning down my offer, babe,” he said, nudging MJ, who snapped out of her trance to turn her blue eyes onto Miguel. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Actually…” you said, instantly drawing their eyes on you. “It’s better if he didn’t. I’ll lose my new lapdog, and we wouldn’t want that… Isn’t that right?” You asked, running your manicured fingers through Miguel’s coffee-brown hair. You watched his jaw clench and a subtle blush spread across his lips.
Seems as if he's starting to like the name or you claiming him…
Indeed, Miguel was a naughty one…
Peter’s stunned expression instantly changed at your words. He cleared his throat, giving you a nod. “Of course, but the offer still stands,” he offered once more, looking over at you as he said it.
You gave him a small smile before MJ sat up in her chair with a grin, the color restoring back into her being after you rightfully snuffed it out. “Since the workers are taking so long, let’s play a game. Never Have I Ever, anyone?!” she exclaimed, a smile adorning her cherry lips.
You grinned, liking the idea, before a thought came to your head, causing you to heave a sigh. “Normally drinks are involved. We don’t have any,” you commented, instantly MJ reached into the pocket of Peter’s red and blue varsity jacket, pulling out his metal flask. His eyes widened in shock before he laughed, shaking his head. “Damn, I thought you didn’t know about that.”
“I know everything, baby.” MJ giggled, placing the metal flask in the center of the table. You smirked, glancing over at Miguel, who had his arms crossed upon the table, his head lowered over the math packet. He was panting, and his thighs were trembling next to your own. He wasn’t writing anything as he seemed like he was just sitting there.
But you knew what your needy puppy was up to…
He was enjoying himself, relishing in the sensation from the vibrator ring you had bought him. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
While Peter and MJ discussed the rules of the game, you leaned in close to Miguel, pressing your glossy lips against his ear. “Are you enjoying your little toy, puppy?” you inquired, causing him to suck in a breath. “Ay cono, turn it off,” he panted, whispering to you in desperation. He turned his hooded eyes onto you, and you met his gaze with a sly grin. “Why? You like it,” you whispered back with a small giggle, watching his ears redden and a vein bulge from his forehead as he tried to suppress his anger.
“So no, it’s not coming off anytime soon,” you told him. “Now, you'll play this game with us and finish my work later.”
“I don’t want to fucking play,” he growled, making your forced smile falter. You subtly reached over to your phone, turning the vibrations up from level 5 to 7. Miguel's voice caught in his throat, his hand landing on your thigh once more. You could even faintly hear the buzzing in his jeans that was slowly making the geek lose his composure.
His large palm covered your smooth skin as he gripped it tightly while he quivered. He cursed under his breath, beginning to softly pat your thigh to call a truce. You watched him with a smirk, loving how he was writhing and squirming in his seat, knowing you were the sole cause of it. “I-I’ll play,” he whined, lowering his head to hide, his amber eyes on you over his arm. You smiled, lowering it back to a mere 5.
‘Don’t piss me off,’ you mouthed, turning back to Peter and MJ to find they were, thankfully, still talking. 
You didn’t want to hear what any of them had to say when it came to Miguel and you, especially from MJ.
“The dweeb is going to play too,” you said, hastily gaining everyone’s attention. “Awesome, do you want to go around as ages? Whoever is the youngest goes first?” MJ suggested. “I think the oldest should go first,” you said with a wicked grin, knowing everyone would choose the latter since you, the queen bee, said so.
If your intuition was correct, which it always was, you sensed Miguel was older than the rest of you. His demeanor and rough look showed his maturity, and you couldn’t help but become a little aroused at the assumption.
“Fine. I’m 23,” MJ said, glancing over at Peter next. “25,” he replied, soon looking at you. “24,” you smiled before finally setting your eyes on the trembling male. His amber eyes shifted from all of your eager gazes. He cleared his throat, tanned cheeks a soft red. “26.” His voice, like usual, was deep and rather low, but you heard his answer loud and clear.
You were right...
The muscular geek was not only a disobedient lowlife, but he was older than you. ‘How fun?’ you thought, looking him up and down beside you. It made everything even sweeter.
“Well, you go first,” Peter said, motioning to Miguel with his head, his dark brown hair swaying with his slight movement. The dweeb gulped, merely sitting there for a while. It was for so long that you pondered if he had even played the common game before until he finally spoke.
“Never have I ever fallen asleep during a movie,” he muttered, keeping his gaze on the table.
'Of course, a boring one, like I thought.’ You groaned, nudging his arm. “Come on, that shit blows,” you said with an eye roll. “We want something steamy, hot…” You whispered, reaching over to caress his thigh under the table. He gulped, clenching his jaw and landing his large, calloused hand on yours to cease your movement. “Fine…” he said, turning to look at you in particular.
“Never have I ever walked in on someone without knocking.”
Miguel asked with a sly grin that surprised you greatly, and left you angry as hell. You growled, hearing Peter and MJ begin to discuss their answers. “Gosh, I walked in on one of the guys with their girlfriends in the locker room,” Peter sighed as MJ didn’t have an unfortunate occurrence happen to her, but not like you cared about either of them at the moment.
You glared at Miguel, his taunting smirk and stupid glasses adorning his face, the desire to slap them both off overwhelming your being.
You turned to see Peter already taking a swig of the metal flask, a grimace on his face after the drink. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have chosen the strong stuff,” he commented, glancing up at you. “Now, what about the Queen bee? Walked in on one of those baddies at your sorority house?” He inquired with a chuckle. You looked over at Miguel, his eyes narrowing as he watched you take the flask, gulping down a large mouthful of the liquor.
As Peter said, the shit was strong, and it took everything in you not to cough, suppressing the urge by clearing your throat. “No…” You replied, placing the flask back on the table and subtly looking over at Miguel before meeting your two associates' curious gazes. “Then what happened then?” MJ asked, deeply intrigued.
“Well, I walked in on someone jerking off.”
You noticed beside you, Miguel’s entire body became rigid on the booth; his hand squeezed yours under the table in a rather desperate way. He was begging you with the slight touch to cease any further words.
How cute…
You smirked at the feeling, loving how you had the dweeb filled with anxiety and nervousness about whether you'll spill his deep secret or not.
But you're only a bitch when you want to be…
“That’s all you get, though.” You laughed, causing cries of frustration to erupt, although you didn’t miss the sigh of relief that passed Miguel’s lips even though he was the one who called your bluff and dug his own grave.
“First round, and it seems Queen Bee and I are tied on who’s paying for our order.” Peter laughed, causing you to roll your eyes. “If it ever gets here,” MJ added with a groan.
“Even more of a reason to continue playing,” Peter said with a smirk. “But it seems as if it’s my turn, being 25 and all.” He said, sitting back against the cushions of the booth, humming in thought. “Ah, got one.” He commented with a grin.
“Never had I ever used a mirror during romantic intercourse.” He asked, his amber eyes looking around the table.
Of course, being the fun queen bee you were, you took the flask. “I mean, if you haven’t, you are missing out.” You grinned, taking another swig of the strong liquor, feeling the satisfying sting in the back of your throat when you placed the container back on the table. You could feel the heat radiating from Miguel’s body at the mention of you doing something so naughty.
You wouldn’t mind doing something like that with him only when he was ready…
A small blush spread across MJ’s cheeks at the erotic question. “I’ve always wanted to do it.” She said, bringing a smile to Peter's lips. He snaked an arm around her, caressing her arm as he spoke in a sultry and seductive voice. “Oh really? We can always try it after-
“Oh my gosh. Get a fucking room already.” You interrupted with a snicker, eyeing the two lovebirds. “Okay, okay,” MJ said with a giggle, eyes turning to Miguel who hastily dismissed it with a head shake.
Of course, the fucking dweeb doesn’t know how to have fun.
With you, he’ll know nothing else; you’ll make sure of it.
“Well, it’s your turn now,” MJ smiled. Finally, it was your turn, instantly thinking of a proposition that could really reveal some deep secrets about Miguel.
Something he's been hiding…
You sat back in your seat, pondering your answer when your eyes met Miguel. Just the sight of the massive male was making your brain sprout with ideas. Who knew how helpful he could be with just his mere presence?
Why not reward him for the assistance?
Subtly, you sat up, turning the vibrations up to a 7 while starting your round.
“Never have I ever had a sexual encounter in a public place and secretly liked it.”
You proposed, glancing over at Miguel, who was losing it. He gritted his teeth, lowering his head to try to hide his fluttering eyes and heavy pants, but your associates’ words surprised you. “Gosh, both of us,” you heard them say, drawing your attention from your puppy.
“Yeah, we did a vibrator challenge on each other, and we went to a mall,” Peter said with a smile and a head shake. “It wasn’t enjoyable with the many people around at the sudden bursts of pleasure, but overall…it was fun,” MJ added, snuggling into Peter’s chest.
You slowly nodded, retaining the idea for further use and glancing back at Miguel, who was shaking. You felt his hand on your thigh once more and soon his soft pats, as if he was a wrestler trying to tap out of the ring.
But you weren’t a merciful referee; he could endure it a little longer…
You leaned in close to him, pretending to reach down to pick up the pencil that had accidentally rolled off the table due to his squirming. “Lift your head and play the damn game,” you spat harshly into his ear as he frantically shook his head. “Fuck, I-I can’t,” he whined breathlessly. “Mierda, I’m close. I-I can’t,” he repeated, only making you smirk.
“Be a good puppy, hold it, and play the game, or I’ll raise it to the highest level,” you told him sternly, your fingers finding the pencil in the leather cushions. You soon rose, a smile on your lips as you placed the wooden tool onto the table. “Miguel, how about you?” you inquired in a sweet voice, the lovebirds finishing their swigs of the flask. “Done anything fun in public and secretly enjoyed it?” you asked, curious about how he'd answer and respond.
Like a good doggy, he lifted his head as you commanded. His dark, hazy eyes looked between the three of you before simply reaching over and taking a swig of the flask.
“Fucking hell!? The nerd knows fun!” Peter commented with a laugh, while the rest of you looked on in astonishment. Miguel placed the flask down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Explain,” you urged, nudging him with a kick under the table. He jolted, shooting you a subtle glare, causing you to raise an eyebrow, reaching over for your phone when Miguel gave you a gentle squeeze of desperation. “Okay…” he began, exhaling and trying to regain his composure while holding back his release and being heavily stimulated.
“I was getting a-a handjob under the table…i-in a diner similar to this,” he said, making you smile, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “T-The girl was fucking rude and mean, but h-had skilled hands. Very skilled hands.” He gulped, avoiding your eyes while he spoke. “But t-that’s pretty much it. I liked it...Who wouldn't," Miguel said, looking down at his lap and leaving the table speechless.
You didn’t know whether to be flattered, angry at his description of you, or apathetic. A burning desire in your gut to simply drag him to the bathroom of Mama’s diner and see just how good his cock would feel inside of you.
But overall, the geek had surprised you with his answer, this being the only time he had spoken his mind and said his true thoughts since he sat down at this fucking booth.
“Damn, sounds hot,” MJ said, making you turn your attention from your loyal puppy to her. “Wish I had the guts like that rude girl you described. I could never.” She said lowly, bringing a wave of pride over you. Her compliment only fueled your already replete ego.
After the steamy encounter that Miguel explained to the group, it was now MJ’s turn. However, just when she was about to speak, her phone pinged with a message. She glanced down at the glowing screen, her eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Oh my gosh, babe, we have to go. I’m needed at the university.” She quaked, turning her blue eyes upon you. “I’m so sorry to pause the game and leave so early.” She apologized, hastily standing up from the booth alongside her ride, and boyfriend, Peter.
“I can only assume it's for the newspaper, so I’ll let it slide,” you told her as she thanked you, swiftly scurrying past and exiting Mama’s diner. Peter watched with a chuckle, tucking his hands into his red varsity jacket, standing beside you at the table.
“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing you around, Queen Bee,” he smirked, suddenly taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. You raised an eyebrow, a smile forming upon your glossy lips. Prior to pulling away, he held his soft lips upon your skin for a moment longer and gave your knuckles an affectionate caress with his thumb, meeting your eyes. “Call me anytime.” He whispered, giving you his signature charming smile and wink that made every person on campus faint and die on the spot before leaving behind his girlfriend.
You couldn’t lie; you were a little shocked at Peter’s forwardness.
You’ve noticed his interest in the great Queen Bee—who isn’t—but he had a girlfriend, and unfortunately for him…
You don’t like to share…
Many whiny groans and the sound of loud buzzing brought you from your thoughts as you turned to look at Miguel in the corner to see something even more astonishing than Peter’s previous advances.
Miguel was panting, breathing heavily with his head pressed against the back of the leather booth. His black denims were drawn down, revealing his strained cock and the beautiful red and blue vibrator ring around his base. His eyes rolled uncontrollably behind his glasses, his mouth agape while he rambled in a blend of Spanish and English.
You could only make out the English phrases and words he uttered, which mostly were pleas and begs, all desiring one thing and one thing only.
“Please—ay cono. Let me cum. Please, let me cum."
He implored incessantly, his words so full of need and desperation. You could tell he was slowly losing it; the pleasure was blinding him, and he was only at level 7. You were hoping to try the highest level on him, but maybe another time…
You didn’t want to completely ruin your new puppy…
You leaned towards him, running a finger over his sticky tip, tracing patterns across it. He whined and squirmed in his seat at your touch. “Aww, you want to stop playing already? I wanted to try level 10.” You told him with a fake pout. He frantically shook his head, gasps of air passing his parted lips. “Goodness, no. Please, I-I can’t take any more.” He begged so perfectly that you almost allowed him to.
Well,
Almost…
“I’ll let you cum on one condition,” you proposed, taking his chin in your fingers and turning him to meet your eyes. His eyes fluttered, his hands found your wrist, grabbing on tightly to stabilize himself. His face was flushed, his defined cheeks a rosy red, and his forehead covered with beads of sweat. He looked adorable, practically begging you with his hooded doe eyes to allow him to cum. You smirked, caressing his chin.
“Tell me you are my little puppy and sweeten the deal with a cute little bark.”
You giggled, eliciting a growl that came out more like a groan. “A-Are you serious?” he panted, making your smile only broaden. “Very, and I’ll only raise the level of the vibrator if you don’t,” you said with a grin, loving the look of defeat that covered his face. “Shit,” he cursed, looking away.
“No, eyes on me.”
You sternly said, hastily yanking his chin back towards you. He clenched his jaw, making eye contact with you once more. His amber orbs were full of anger, but his desire to be relieved of the vibrator and finally be granted his satisfying release led him to speak what you wanted.
“I-I’m your… l-little… 
Puppy.”
He uttered reluctantly through shaky moans as you waited patiently for the best part of his whole confession. He growled, shaking his head. “I’m not barking.”
You huffed, giving him a stern look. “Do I have to threaten you again about that video? How about I take that little vibrator and give it to the dean instead?” you said with an evil grin. “It has your… essence all over it. Wouldn’t be hard to discover it’s yours.” You cackled. He scowled, gazing up at you through breathy moans. “You are s-such a bitch.”
“Are you sure? You are looking more like a bitch than me right now,” you spat with a laugh, piercing your nails into his chin. “Now be my good little puppy and bark.” You demanded once more, eyes trained on his furious and flushed face.
You watched Miguel resist you as hard as he could. He put up such a fight, remaining silent to disobey for a good while, but just like any wild dog, they break, they snap...
They submit.
So, it didn’t take long before the most satisfying sounds filled your ears.
“Woof…Woof.”
A wave of satisfaction overcame you, akin to taking a refreshing sip of a chocolate milkshake on a hot day. Your glossy lips pulled into a smile, feeling completely overjoyed as you stared at your official new lapdog. “Gosh, I’m going to have so much fun with you,” you promised, caressing his chin affectionately. Miguel’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and his entire face turned red; even his cock frantically throbbed around the pulsating ring.
Like a dog wagging his tail, he seemed to like that idea very much...
You wrapped a hand around his shaft, stroking him at a fast pace while the ring continued to buzz against him. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” you whispered. “Make me proud, puppy,” you told him, kissing along his jawline and earning a loud groan to erupt from his throat. His hips left the seat, meeting your fist with each thrust upwards. “Oh yes. Fuck,” he cried through closed eyes.
The leather booth began to creak loudly at his frenzied movement, his cock sliding in and out of your palm, completely slick with his precum. You could feel how powerful the vibrations were on his sensitive shaft whilst he continued to fuck your fist.
“Shit, shit, I’m cumming,” he groaned, before a loud guttural, deep moan erupted from deep within his chest, his thick, muscular thighs quivering. Veins bulge along the underside of his abdomen upon his climax, and with one final thrust into your hand, he shot his white, creamy load.
And the four-eyed male just kept impressing you over and over again.
His release seemed to be endless. More and more of his seed dripped from his slit, coating your hand and the buzzing toy. The vibrating ring and your fisting only seemed to milk him completely, causing him to whimper and whine uncontrollably, continuing to paint his shaft, your hand, his beige sweater, and the leather seats in his essence.
When he was finished, you took in the huge mess he’d made with a grin. “Look at what you’ve done,” you purred, grabbing a few napkins to clean your hands. Miguel didn’t respond, only babbling softly, his words unintelligible.
You laughed at his thoroughly satisfied expression, finding it utterly adorable how fucked-out he looked. You relieved him of the vibrator, turning it off and removing it from his swollen shaft, the toy completely coated with his sticky fluids. 
You smirked, eyeing the white-coated ring; it was so enticing that you couldn't help but bring the toy to your mouth to give it a taste. Like savoring the sweetness of honey on a wand, you ran your tongue along the vobrator, humming in ecstasy.
Your eyes fluttered at the taste. His seed was different—something you couldn't quite put into words, but an essence you'd definitely want more of in the future, something you had to taste straight from the source.
After sucking the ring clean, you placed it into your bag and slid closer to Miguel. His eyes were still closed, his chest heaving up and down while his body spasmed—small tremors spreading through his massive being.
You turned his face towards you, a finger resting under his chin. His eyes fluttered open to meet your satisfied gaze. “I’m happy you enjoyed yourself, puppy,” you whispered, an airy chuckle passing his lips at your words. “I had no choice… 
So I might as well enjoy it,” 
He muttered breathlessly, his response made you even prouder. Your little puppy was understanding the game—the fun. You couldn’t help but love the dork even more.
You leaned closer to him, your nose brushing against his. 
“Finally… you are starting to get it,” you uttered, pressing a rough and searing kiss to his mouth. Miguel, completely exhausted and shocked, instantly lost the fight, giving you control.
You devoured his mouth hungrily, his plush lips feeling just right and tasting even better as your tongue entered his parted lips. He groaned, kissing you back, but not enough to dominate nor challenge you, which you adored so much.
You kissed him until you were satisfied, sucking his lips until they were pink and swollen, and tasting his mouth with your tongue. You then pulled away from his enticing lips, both of you panting heavily. You looked him over with a smirk, patting his head and running your manicured fingers through his coffee-brown hair, and to your satisfaction, he didn’t pull away—either from weariness or pure enjoyment, it seemed your puppy had accepted his role. 
But you couldn’t be so sure…
You smiled, sliding out of the booth and picking up your $500 Prada bag from the seat. His amber eyes were full of confusion as he looked you over. You met your adorable lapdog’s gaze, standing before him in your lavish clothes—a white crop top, pink Gucci jacket, skirt, and heels.
You gave him a sly grin, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Clean yourself up and have my homework done by 10. 
I want you at my sorority house tonight,” 
You smirked, watching his tanned cheeks turn a deep red. Your eyes took him in one last time, taking in his little mess, his flustered and stunned expression, softened cock, massive body, and those dorky glasses.
 All of that and so much more was yours now.
All yours…
“See you then,” you giggled, blowing him a kiss, and turning on your pink high heels, leaving the dork flabbergasted.
You swung open the door of Mama’s diner, stepping out onto the sidewalk and into the bustling streets of Nueva York. You put on your pink heart-shaped shades, the evening sun beaming upon your face, as an unshakeable smile adorned your glossy lips.
You were excited, no, delighted. 
You had discovered something better than a measly assistant that you had desired before. 
You had a permanent peasant, a puppy who was none other than the outcast of your college—the student at the bottom of the student hierarchy and hated by all was officially yours. 
And you couldn’t wait to have so much more fun with your little bitch boy, Miguel O’Hara.
Your new lapdog...
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A/N: I enjoyed writing this soo much!! 😆
I hope u guys enjoyed it as well, I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 but...idk 🤔😏
But hope u guys liked!! 💗💗
P.S: Part 3 of 'A Fate Worse Than Death' would be up next week, my apologies, I just had to write this one. 😌
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<3 Taglist:
~@oscarissac2099
~@powerful-niya
(Let me know in the comments if you'll like to become a part of the taglist! ❤️)
(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)
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terastalungrad · 8 months ago
Text
Sometimes, you’re a comedian with a touring show to promote, so you do an interview with a regional newspaper.
I think that’d be the funniest possible time to reveal a big scoop, wouldn’t it?
Stewart Lee is currently touring, and to promote his Yeovil performance, gave an interview to Blackmore Vale Magazine.  According to Wikipedia, the Blackmore Vale is an area of north Dorset, south Somerset and southwest Wiltshire.  According to the comedian Jake Baker, the magazine would cover his school sports day as he grew up in Dorset.  That’s the level of news you’d expect.
The questions are friendly and easy, from a journalist clearly familiar with Lee’s work and history.
The first question is about the show’s angle.  Lee describes the nature of the show, and here’s an excerpt:
So it looks like stand-up, and sounds like stand-up, but it’s actually a kind of character piece about a desperate person who’s frightened and trying to organise the world in a way that puts them in control. And I guess you could argue that’s what a lot of stand-ups are doing anyway. Ricky Gervais to me looks like a very frightened man. He’s frightened of transgender people coming after him, the act is a defensive wall.
Fun!  This is a Ricky Gervais hate blog, so it’s nice to see a sudden, unexpected attack in an unrelated promotional interview.
Lee mentions Gervais again in response to question four.
Sometimes I become bitter and think ‘I get all this good press, why can’t I get 10 million quid for a TV special like Ricky Gervais?’ But on the other hand, I wouldn’t want that audience, it wouldn’t allow me to be better.
And then again to question eight, where Lee explains why he spends six months running new shows in the relatively small Leicester Square Theatre (as opposed to arena comics who might do 10 warmup shows followed by 60 tour dates).
You can still run it like a club gig, you can interact with people in real time. Also, you wouldn’t get better at the show because you wouldn’t have done it as many times. You can see this with an act like Gervais. Those shows have not been run in, they’re not fluid, they’re a succession of inflexible statements that would snap like twigs if the pressure of an unforeseen event was applied to them.
The journalist finally addresses this head on.  It really is worth reading the entire article - there’s a lot more than I’m quoting, including an interesting story about Sean Lock:
But here are my favourite bits:
[Gervais] still kind of copies me though, which is the weird thing. There’s still a lot of cadences of what I do but they’re used in the service of evil. In Star Wars, he’s Darth Vader and he’s taken the force, which is me, and used it for evil purposes. He was a fanboy, he was actually the booker at University of London and used to book me and Sean Lock all the time. And when he became famous for the Office, he wrote an hour-long act that was so indebted to us it was awkward. [...] If he’d come up through the circuit that would have been rubbed off him because you find your own voice doing club gigs. It took me two years of gigging five nights a week to come through the mesh of things I liked. But he didn’t have that experience in the same way. [...] Funnily enough, in his first show there were bits I’d never recorded that he’d do almost verbatim. He’d clearly remembered them. I went to see him at the Bloomsbury – on his invitation actually – with my then girlfriend and she was very concerned for me. I’d given up at that point due to lack of interest, and she was concerned for what it felt like to see my act being done to hundreds of people, it was quite weird. On the other hand, that sort of did make me think I don’t want it to be consumed into someone else’s vocabulary. And also, I think because he had a residual sense of guilt, he would always credit me in interviews as being an influence – that helped me in 2004 to get the audience back.
This is, to my knowledge, the first time Lee’s ever claimed that Gervais stole his material.  He’s certainly talked about Gervais clearly taking influence from him (though in the past, he downplayed this compared to the account given in this interview).
It’s a pretty big thing to accuse a comic of stealing material.  That’s a big taboo.  I reckon this is partly because Lee wants to discourage fans of Gervais from coming to the show.
Anyway, let’s finish by quoting the end of the interview:
It must be strange to have that level of financial remuneration and those audience figures but not really a single good review. And I expect what that does for you is create a cognitive dissonance where you have to manufacture a worldview by which the whole world is wrong and you’re right. Which can’t necessarily be very good for your mental health, although I expect the money’s nice.
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buckyalpine · 1 year ago
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Bucky x civilian reader
JESSY REACHES 500
I wrote this for my most precious bb, @jessybarnes congratulations my angel, you deserve ALL the followers.
Warnings: angstttyy, Bucky's an idiot, fluffyy, friends with benefits to lovers, I hope your chest itches a lil.
Prompt: "I can't keep doing this, I can't keep giving you chances just for you to break my heart over and over again."
"Morning Doll" His husky voice stirred you awake, the cool tips of his fingers sending shivers down your spine as he traced up and down your bare back. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
Bucky barely gave you a chance to respond, throwing the covers off, exposing you to the cool air of your bedroom as he rummaged around for his boxers which he'd tossed off haphazardly the night before.
"Alright" You mustered a smile as he pecked your head, seeing himself out and locking the door with the spare key you gave him. It would be weeks before you saw him again, going back to your regular schedule while he was off saving the world.
You had an interesting relationship with Bucky Barnes.
You'd met when he came to return a copy of the Hobbit at the library you worked at, tossing your a charming smirk before going to browse for more books. One night after a few more flirty comments and innocent touches later, you found yourself with your hands down each others pants, his lips smashed against yours to keep your moans down, the both of you hidden between the bookshelves.
He eventually started coming over to your place instead, exploring every bit of your body like he owned it, spending hours taking you both to new heights until he couldn't move. It was pure sex and the absolute best you'd ever had. Bucky made you forget your own name, only having the ability to moan and take everything he was giving you.
It was the perfect arrangement for him; something lowkey to help with the stress of his job without having to commit to much more. After you started to pick up more shifts at the library, you even gave his own key to your place to let himself in on days where you hadn't gotten home yet.
That was nearly a year ago.
You sighed, pulling the covers back over yourself, his scent still lingering on the sheets and pillow making your heart flutter, already waiting for the next time he'd be over. You hated the feeling, knowing your feelings were going further than what Bucky wanted. You hated every time he had to leave, the butterflies in your tummy fluttering wildly whenever he his name popped up on your phone.
Your heart would beat faster every time he kissed you, biting your tongue from telling him you didn't want him to go, you couldn't just be a person to keep his bed warm, you wanted more, you loved him-
Fuck.
You loved him.
You shook your head, ignoring the tightness that started to constrict your throat, feeling worse than the last time he'd left.
Why the fuck did you fall for him.
-
"Maybe we could go out?" You tried, hoping for once one of your rendezvous wouldn't be just sex. Bucky hummed, holding you closer to his bare chest, your bodies tangled under the sheets after he'd taken you apart, coming straight to your place as soon as he jet had landed.
"Sure, how about we grab coffee next time?" He mumbled, rutting his hips up, already hard again, rolling on top of you, peppering kisses down your neck before you could respond.
"Wait, Bu-oh god" Your words melted into moans as he made himself comfortable between your legs, neither of you brining up those plans again for the rest of the night. He stayed over as always, leaving before you stirred, the bed cold and empty when you woke up the next day to a text message from him.
Had to leave early, see you when I'm back x
You blinked, chewing your lip, debating on how to respond, a part of you still hoping he'd be open to spending time with you outside of just needing something physical.
Sure! Let's go to the cafe nearby? I've been dying to go
You typed and deleted the message 3 times before finally hitting send, tossing your phone aside, anxiety clouding your mind wondering how he'd respond.
Then he didn't.
You waited the entire week for him to respond to your message, the read at 6:03 staring you in the face, making your cheeks heat up from embarrassment, imagining the way he probably opened and closed the chat, forgetting your very existence until he had needs again.
Why did you even try.
You harshly wiped the tears that streaked down your face, chewing the inside of your cheek, freezing when the lock of your door turned, the familiar sound of his bag hitting the floor. You quickly splashed water onto your face, hiding any evidence of emotion when Bucky popped his head into your room, finding you in the bathroom.
"Hi doll" He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist, dragging you to bed and flopping over, making him self comfortable with his head on your chest.
"Hi Buck" You cleared your throat, hoping he wouldn't hear the shake in your voice, carding your fingers though his hair, instantly betraying yourself and melting into him when his hands made their way up your shirt.
"Missed this" he groaned, his sinful lips kissing down your neck and shoulders, slotting himself between your legs. "Thought about it all week"
All week.
When I waited for you to reply at least once.
You felt your eyes sting, forcing back the way your felt for what was happening in the moment. He made it clear what he wanted from you but you weren't sure how much more you could take. You succumbed to his charm, the sheets warm, your body slick with sweat, your face resting against his chest, his arm holding you securely, letting his warm breath tickle your skin.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" Bucky's nose nuzzled into your neck, pulling away slightly when he felt you tense in his hold, not responding, "Doll?"
"Maybe-maybe we shouldn't do this anymore" Your throat burned with how hard you were trying to keep from crying, keeping your eyes trained on his chest instead of his sweet baby blues you'd fallen for.
"Why not" Bucky frowned while you shifted uncomfortably.
"What are we Bucky"
"Y/n, we talked about this" He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. You hated the way his arms loosened around you, pulling away his warmth with it, your body curling in on itself as he got off the bed to put his clothes on.
"I know but- I just- I feel used, it's like I'm some dirty secret" you brought your knees to your chest, digging your nails into your palms while he pulled his hoodie over his head. "We've never done anything else other than fuck in my apartment!"
"Its not like that" He argued back, sitting back down at by the edge of the bed.
"Bucky, no one even knows I exist. Tell me, does Steve even know?"
He chewed his lip before shaking his head. He hadn't told anyone about you, not even his best friend. You scoffed, feeling more pathetic than ever, your stomach churning seeing the distance already starting to grow between you both.
"See what I mean? You won't even go out for coffee with me, is just all sex. Is that all I am to you?"
"We both agreed to keep this casual, you know I'm not ready for a relationship y/n, I-I never saw you like that" His words cut deeper, the pit in your stomach growing heavier as he looked at you with pity. "Y/n-
"Fine" You blinked back the stubborn tears that kept welling in your eyes, harshly swiping your cheek as they started to stream down your face, "I get it"
"So where do we go from here" Bucky sighed, a part of him wanting to reach out and wipe the tears that streaked down your cheeks and hold you in his arms, hating the way he could see your heart breaking because of him.
"I can't keep doing this, I can't keep giving you chances just for you to break my heart over and over again." Your voice began to crack, wrapping your arms around your knees, pulling them to your chest, "I-I keep waiting for the day you'd feel differently but I get it, it's not happening"
"I'm sorry" Bucky whispered, almost reaching out to hold you one last time, deciding against it as he got up and made his way out of your room for the last time. His chest ached when he heard the first sob slip past your lips, softly closing the door behind him.
You cried your heard out, the pain far worse than you imagined it to be, wishing you'd kept your feelings to yourself because now you'd lost Bucky forever. You wouldn't wake up to him sneaking into your room for cuddles. You wouldn't walk into your apartment to find him crashed on your couch. You wouldn't wake up wrapped in his arms, legs tangled together with naughty kisses first thing in the morning.
Why did you fall so hard for him.
-
"Alright, what's going on with him" Tony huffed, "He's more grumpy than usual and I'm going to lose my billionaire status with how many punching bags I've replaced within the last week. Rogers?"
Steve shrugged, equally confused and worried as to why his best friend was far more moody than usual. There hadn't been any particularly grueling missions recently and there was nothing scheduled for the month. Over the past few weeks, Bucky had been closed off, secluded in his room, only leaving to spend time in the gym, breaking bags left, right and center.
"What's wrong with you" Steve found the soldier in the gym, grunting between punches, sweat dripping down his body, jaw clenched as he landed another hit, causing the leather to give way with sand spilling to the floor.
"Nothing" Bucky shook his head, hardly registering the sting of his split knuckles, panting while his heart thudded against his chest, having gone at it for the past hour, non stop.
"Buck, this is the fourth bag you've broken" Steve sighed, while Bucky huffed in response, already making his way to the rack to grab a new one.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a girl, would it?" The blonde smirked, carefully watching his face. Bucky's eyes grew wide, blinking while Steve stared at him knowingly.
"N-no" Bucky shook his head, no, this had nothing to do with a girl, nor did it have to do with feelings. He didn't actually care about this girl or miss her, he didn't crave to feel her warmth, he was perfectly capable of falling asleep without cuddling her to his chest. He didn't miss her sweet laugh or cute shy smile. He didn't care that he couldn't hear her voice anymore and she didn't appear in every single one of his dreams, making his heart yearn for her more-
"Buck, seriously?" Steve deadpanned at his best friends lovesick puppy face while Bucky chewed his lip.
"You knew?"
"Not a lot" Steve shrugged. "Saw you talking to that cute librarian once when I was out for a run with Sam. S'not hard to figure out, considering you went from acting like the world was full of sunshine and rainbows to being a grumpy asshole all over again. So what happened"
Bucky only intended on giving Steve the most sparse details but once he started he couldn't stop. The more he spoke, the more it dawned on him that none of it was casual to begin with, that he'd fallen hard, deeply in love with you.
"You love her" Steve stated, seeing clear at day his best friend was an idiot.
"I don't love her" Bucky scoffed, his cheeks blushing at the way Steve cocked an eyebrow, "I love her"
"Go tell her you punk" Steve smacked him upside the head, chuckling as Bucky dashed out of the gym, running straight to his room to shower and change. He trembled like a leaf he entire time, feeling a mixture of excitement and fear, feeling awful for hurting you, awful for bottling and ignoring his feelings while hoping and praying you'd forgive him.
He thought about all the times he wanted more with you, about what it would be like for you to be his girl, fuck there had been nights where he'd even dreamt of spending his life with you. He hid it all away, convincing himself he didn't need anything else, that it was for the best for both of you even if you did make his heart feel whole.
He knew he wanted to be your man, every time he walked through your door, the stresses of his day instantly melting away, feeling like he was home. Nothing comforted him more than holding you in his arms, never wanting to let go.
He hopped onto his motor bike, swerving through the streets, taking the stairs two at a time to get back to you as fast as he could, not wanting to waste another minute. He shamelessly pulled out the spare key, knowing you'd be home around this time considering he had your scheduled memorized by now. Usually around this time, you liked to lounge on the couch under a pile of blankets with your comfort show on.
"Doll?" Bucky quietly unlocked the door, toeing his boots off, the scent of your home already causing his emotions to fly around wildly. He felt like he was home, whole once again, why did he ever let this go.
"Baby, where are you" Bucky called, frowning when he saw your house keys still hanging by the door yet found the living room empty. He continued to search for you, quietly pushing your bedroom door open, melting at the sight of your curled up form, sleeping under a pile of blankets. He felt a pang in his chest seeing tear streaks down your cheeks, evident that you'd been crying.
You stirred at the sound of the door creaking, shifting in your sleep as he quietly made his way over, gently coaxing you awake.
"Hey doll" he whispered, stroking your face with his metal hand, like he always did when he came over in the middle of a night, usually when he couldn't sleep or whenever missions finished and he immediately needed to come and see you.
"Bucky?" Your voice cracked, rubbing sleep from your eyes, unsure if you were dreaming when you felt the bed dip and his cool melt fingers stroking your cheek, the familiar scent of him making you feel giddy after you missed him so much. "What-what are you doing here"
"I- He paused, unsure of where to even start, guilt already consuming him for making you feel like he never cared for you in the first place. "I'm sorry doll. I'm so sorry"
"For what" You scoffed softly, sniffling back fresh tears that wanted to spill, still struggling to mend your broken heart, "Was there something you needed again" Your defeated voice made Bucky feel worse, realizing you probably thought he was back to use you, when you had all the rights to kick him out of your room immediately.
"No! No baby, never. I-I'm not here for that y/n, I promise" Bucky scrambled to your side, reaching for your hands, pressing them to his chest, his heart hammering against his ribcage. "I'm so sorry for what I said to you baby, it wasn't true, I didn't even realize how I felt about you. I missed you so much" HIs eyes were desperately pleading with you to believe him.
"You-you said you never saw me that way" you whispered, shrinking away from him once again, too scared to let him hurt you a second time. "You left me Bucky"
"Baby, look at me" He begged, hesitantly reaching out to cup your cheeks, relaxing a little when you didn't flinch away. "Please sweets, I mean it. I did see you that way. I care about you, fuck, I love you y/n" As soon as the words left Bucky's mouth, he felt complete like never before. It was like his heart stitched itself back together, feeling free, realizing how true it was. He loved you, more than anything else.
"No you don't Bucky" you couldn't bring yourself to believe him, gasping when he pulled you into his arms, his thumb stroking your face.
"I do doll, I promise I do. I was too stupid to realize it even when it was obvious. I thought about you every second of the day, you know that? Whenever the jet would land, I'd run straight to you because I just wanted to come home. I just wanted to come straight to you. You were my everything, i wanted to keep you protected, just live in a world where it was just you and me. I fell in love with you angel, tried to convince myself every single day that what I felt for you was nothing more"
"Bucky-
"Steve knew" Bucky cut you off, chuckling at your confused, pouty expression.
"What?"
"He knew. He didn't know everything but he knew enough to piece together why I was acting like a love stuck idiot. You have no idea what kind of effect you had on me doll. I was the happiest I've ever been with you. My heart was breakin' without you baby, I just wanted my girl back"
"Your girl?" You whispered softly, your cheeks heating up at the thought while Bucky nodded, pulling you down to lay with him.
"My girl. All mine. Can't believe I tried to ignore it, I've been in love with you for so long doll. M'sorry I hurt you angel, I'll never break your heart again, I promise" He held you to his chest, his words making your eyes water, burying yourself in his warmth. He kissed the tears that spilled from your lashes, before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Will you be mine? Really mine?"
"M'yours Bucky" your voice was muffled, clinging onto him while he wrapped his arms around you, stroking your hair.
"Y'know this means you'll have to put up with Steve and Sam" Bucky playfully teased making you giggle, already aware his friends would probably start to follow him once they officially found out about you. "and you'll have to be my date for all of Tony's extravagant shit"
"That doesn't sound so bad" You quipped, while Bucky rolled over, tucking his face against your neck, needily cuddling into you, craving your warmth after weeks of having been apart.
"That's because you've never seen me drink, sugar" Bucky hummed, sleep already starting to claim him, hugging you tightly as he closed his eyes. "Might even drunkenly ask you to marry me"
"I'd drunkenly say yes" you hummed, wrapping your body around his, he warmth of his skin making your eyes grow heavy.
"I love you doll" Bucky whispered before falling fast asleep in your arms, the world once again filled with sunshine with rainbows now that he was finally with you.
His girl.
His home.
1K notes · View notes
ophelisstuff · 6 months ago
Note
Paige bueckers × reader who loves books.
BOOKWORM | P.B X READER
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authors note : i’ve been procrastinating on this big time srry if it’s not the best.
requested by : @paqerings
summery : Paige, someone who isn’t a fan of books finds herself tolerating all because of the person she’s fallen in love with.
word count : 808.
warnings : fluff that’s it
You and Paige had met at Uconn’s library on a rainy day. You being there to check out books for fun and Paige being there to find text books because she had no other choice.
A stack of books in your hand, you walked through the isles of bookshelves — looking for anything else that caught your eye. Unaware that the odd amount of books in your hand had caught Paige’s.
“Are you really going to read all those books?” The blonde questioned, disregarding the fact you were a complete stranger. Focused on finding out why there were so many books in your hand.
“Every last one” You replied, knowing that you wouldn’t be returning to the library until the pile of books in your hand were all completed.
“That’s impossible. no human is reading that many books.” Paige shrugged, finding it unbelievable that a person would optionally spend their time buried in a book.
The blonde just couldn’t understand it. What was it about books that grabbed everyones attention but hers?
Paige hated the idea of reading a book so much, she found herself on the brink of tears when having to study.
Even daring to pay classmates or bribe friends to complete reading assignments because she’d rather be out or playing basketball for fun.
“It’s definitely possible” You muttered, confusion building as you wondered why this familiar blonde was following you around all of a sudden.
It wasn’t like you didn’t know who she was. Everyone on campus knew of Paige Bueckers and admired her athletic talents.
However, you couldn’t get over the way she just talked your ear off and walked alongside you.
Disregarding any thought of you being a stranger and talking as if you two were the closest of friends. “Have you ever read a book?”
You asked, stopping in front of the mystery section — eyes drifting from book spine to book spine for something eye catching.
“No- well yes - duh. Just not a chapter book of any sort. It’s never been my thing so i’ve never tried to”
The blonde admitted, standing beside you — watching as you became fixated on the book titles.
“Well, find the right book and when you do, get back to me” You encouraged, sending the girl a short lived smile.
Picking up a final book as you headed to the front desk in order to check out.
Leaving the blonde with curiosity and confusion as she watched you walk away. Realizing she hadn’t even gotten a chance to introduce herself — let alone ask your name.
However, the blonde decided to take your advice and find a book that suited her — determined to impress you in the future.
present day —
“Can you hurry up! I wanna know what happens to Lucy Gray!”
Paige shouted, growing impatience as she sat on the couch — holding a copy of her The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes in her hands.
Finding herself obsessed with the Hunger Games book series — the blonde had managed to ‘read’ all three books from the series. And having you read the forth to complete it.
In all honesty, Paige still hadn’t read a full book on her own. Often times listening to the audio version of it or having you read a chapter to her daily.
The confusion for your love of books remained the same, however she’d grown to admire how fixated you were on them.
Growing use to how you always carried a book on you, reading whenever you could wherever you could.
Often times venturing to Barnes and Noble’s when you go book shopping. Her interest drifting to the lego sets while you walk the endless shelves of books.
“Give me a second! I’m finding a blanket”
You yelled back, picking up the throw blanket off of your girlfriends bed. Placing your reading glasses on your face as you walked down the hallway and to the living room.
“Finally! took you long enough” She muttered with a smile.
Throwing the blanket on Paige, you smiled laid beside her. The blondes head instantly becoming situated and comfortable on your shoulder.
“Oh whatever, hand me the book”
You joked, taking the story book out of her hand. Unaware of how a complete stranger who hated books turned into your girlfriend who tolerated certain ones.
You found solace in books, and being able to read them to your girlfriend — cuddled up on the couch brought you even more peace.
You nor Paige would trade this experience for anything else in the world. Often times expressing how you were both grateful for that interaction at the school’s library.
“Chapter eleven. Lucy Gray’s words stung but, on reflection, were well deserved.”
You began, Paige becoming silent as she listened to your soothing voice. Eager to hear the story being told.
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azrakaban · 6 months ago
Text
Mattheo Riddle Headcanons
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Just a few little headcanons I have about my husband, loml, Mattheo Thomas Riddle <3 Sidenote: if you're confused, Tom Riddle is fancasted as the son of Voldemort rather than as voldemort himself, because he is too fit to be a noseless vampire xx
...
- his favourite colour is gray. The reason behind this is he used to know this really sweet smoke coloured cat when he was little and he used to play with her, so isnce then he finds the colour relaxing
- him and Theodore Nott have been friends since they were really young. Like 3 or something.
- when he was younger, he found a copy of peter pan in a bin somewhere, picked it up and read it. He knew his father would kill him if he found out he was keeping a muggle book, so he hid it and it became his favourite book after reading
- when he was really young, Bellatrix (his mother) taught him and Tom occlumency, to be able to hide secrets from their father. She thought it was important for them to have some kind of privacy.
- he would be an arctic monkeys fan (yes I am aware they were not formed at the time he was at Hogwarts, but if he was gen z he'd love them.)
- he's a cat person, due to being bitten by a dog when he was little (no he does not have rabies and no he is not a furry) but he has a soft spot for bernese mountain dogs because Theo Nott has one)
- when I say he has only got eyes for you, I mean it. This man would rather gauge his eyes out than look at any other girl, he is so incredibly loyal.
- He believed Rodolphus Lestrange was his father up until he saw Rodolphus yell at Bellatrix when he was 11 about him not being his son. It broke him, as up until then he had been Mattheo Lestrange. From then on, he went by Mattheo Riddle.
- love language is physical touch, always with an arm around your waist, fiddling with your hair, kissing your cheek, forehead, temple, nose, lips, anywhere he can reach.
- possessive, but not in a controlling way. He has a fear of abandonment, so he likes to know that you're still his. Seeing other guys/girls look at you worries him a little, but he can't blame them because you are literally gorgeous. (and tbh, I don't think he's ever gonna have a problem with you looking at someone else, because he's perfection.)
- would give up anything for you, and gave up smoking immediately after starting to like you.
- absolutely in love with you. I cannot stress this enough, but this man is head over heels, for you, and only you.
- has a soft spot for you. When you first met/saw him, you thought he seemed emotionally unavailable (which he was, besides joking with friends tbh) but that changed for you, he was kind, and even vunerable when he asked you out, although still prefers to keep his emotions to himself.
- just a lil thing, but th Riddle family is RICH RICH so he is always buying you gifts even if you insist he shouldn't spend so much on you.
- when I say this guy would get a dog for you, I must make you understand how HUGE this is. He HATES dogs, so this is a huge thing for him. PLEASE APPRECIATE IT!!!
- would get into fights all the time (check out previous one shot No More Fights pleeeease x) over you, for you, and with you. If you got into a fight he'd be at the sidelines cheering you on like the supportive love he is >>>>
- nicknames. Oh my god, he has so many for you, muggle references are a speciality of his for some reason. Boojiboo, Darling, Angel, Princess, baby, and his person favourite: LOVE. Love this, love that, he uses it more than your actual name.
- he has reading glasses. he absolutely hates them, but you think they make him look cute and kinda smart (which he does, picture it, trust me)
- he reads a lot. Back at his house his room is next to their library so he can have easier access to it.
- he loves astrology. He knows all the constellations, the planets, and takes you on stargazing dates
- he smells like pinewood and fire. Just a really relaxing, wintery scent
- He HATES Summer. absolutely loves winter and autumn, but summer is just horrible to him. he hates the heat and bugs mostly, but he also hates the holidays because he's away from you and his friends
- went to a lot of pureblood balls/dances when he was young and is a very good dancer.
- doesn't have the closest relationship with Tom, who is two years older than him (same year as the Weasley twins), but he can go to Tom if he needs help with anything, whether it be homework to planned Arson :)
- he has a gorgeous morning voice. all gravely but still sounds beautiful
- he loves pretending to be asleep infront of you, and deliberately pretends to say your name in his sleep to see you smile when he "wakes up" and you tell him
- he's an early bird other than when he's really tired. If you wake up before him, you're not getting out of bed for hours, he's keeping you right there with him, hugging you tightly to him to prevent your escape. (not that you'd want to)
- if he sees you're nervous, he gives you his hand to fiddle with and you play with his fingers. if it doesn't help, he takes your hands in his and squeezes them gently.
- makes really good pancakes and waffles. He had them first at Theodore's house, and Theo's mum taught him how to make them.
- he's very good with kids, surprisingly. You once managed to snap a photo of him wearing a plastic tiara and now use it as leverage in arguments ;)
- he has big brother energy, and a lot of it. After the battle of Hogwarts, when Delphini was very little, he helped raise her to the best he could with help from Tom, the other Slytherins and Narcissa Malfoy. If you were comfortable with it, Delphini would be really close with you and see you as a big sister/brother/sibling <3 you guys would look after her and raise her to not carry out the events written in the cursed child.
- continuing with big brother stuff, he helps out the first years with homework and stuff when they need it.
- if people aren't listening when he's talking, he doesn't yell, just stops talking
- he's not agressive while drunk, like ever. Infact, total opposite. It. Is. Hilarious. He loosens up entirely. Trying to get you to ballroom dance with him, tripping over his feet. He'll go full on Shakira until you have to drag him out of the room. One time you gave him a hug while drunk but he didn't recognise you so he said "sorry, I have a girlfriend/boyfriend/partner" 😭 then realised it was you and pulled you back into the hug.
- he loves scary movies, naturally, but he's actually a sucker for a good rom com if it's actually good. I'm not talking boring predictable ones, genuinely good ones.
- if he was gen Z, he would be a huge marvel fan. don't try to convince me otherwise. not collecting merch and stuff, but seeing every movie within the week it comes out.
- before you two started dating he kept listening to Conan Gray (yes I'm a huge Conan fan so may be a little biased and I know conan was not singing then but anywayyyyy) his favourite song was Heather, because he didn't know if you reciprocated his feelings, but when you got together, he gave you his sweater on the third of December. I'm so proud of him.
- he's more of a cooker than a baker to be honest, he'd bake with you, but other than that he'd steer clear of sweet treats.
- he's fluent in French, Spanish and Italian as well as English. He wanted to learn Latin as well when he was younger, but didn't have time so is learning it now.
- he wears converse a lot. don't even argue with me please, I am right. (you can quote me on that to your family if needed guys)
- he loves photography and taking long walks in nature to get photos. If you were comfortable with it, he'd use you as his muse, styling you into his photos and capturing your beauty perfectly.
- DIMPLES
- He can play guitar. Simping.
- loves spicy food, literally obsessed with it.
- his biggest fear is getting the dark mark. he doesn't want anything to do with his father, and only took the name Riddle so as not to be an insult to rodolphus.
- anytime you say "I'm proud of you" he silently pulls you into a hug. he hasn't heard those words enough, so the fact that you have said it just completes him.
- drops anything for you if you need him.
- man child. he needs your attention at least five times a day.
- big spoon. You will never ever be big spoon, it is his role, he has assigned it to himself and is very protective of it.
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crescenthistory · 1 month ago
Note
Hey darling, how are you? Hope your having an amazing day ❤️
So I saw your prompt list and I was thinking about b6 and b15 with Regulus Black and kinda Sunshine x Grumpy, like he really tries to keep the facade of being cold and unbothered but reader is just so kind and understanding with him that he just melts whenever it comes to her, the tipical "I hate everybody but you"
hi my love, have been a bit sick and stressed lately, but finding relief in writing, so thank you for your enrichment hihi<3 wishing u the best!
Prompts: B.6 "Are you falling asleep on me?" "..." "Alright then" & B.15 "How are you so cute right now?"
Words: 3k
Warnings: not proofread, use of y/n, regulus black is traumatised and mentally unwell, reader is surprisingly stable and supportive (congrats), trying to make reggie have a dynamic and complex personality, not yet established relationship but Clearly Something, falling in love and fluff, implied fear of (unrequited) love on reggie's part
Note: y'all realllllly love the sunshine x grumpy dynamic with reggie, huh? me too dw
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The library was silent except for the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional scratch of quill on parchment. A low fire burned in the corner, its light barely enough to keep the chill at bay, but the two of you had stayed long past the warmth’s welcome. The vast shelves of books loomed around you like silent sentinels, their presence familiar and comforting in the way only a quiet, deserted library could be.
Regulus sat across from you, perfectly composed, as usual. His quill hovered over a parchment filled with notes – meticulously neat, with that sense of perfection you had come to associate with him, exactly as he intended. His dark hair fell slightly into his eyes as he read, but he didn’t brush it away, too focused on whatever passage had captured his attention.
You admired him, hoping your tired gaze was not too obvious – though maybe it would be good for him to see it. The late hour was getting to you, but you didn’t want to leave, not yet. Nights like this, studying alongside Regulus, had become a routine your body craved. Though he rarely gave any indication that they meant something to him, you had come to peak far enough behind the cracks of his exterior to know he did. Should he wish to not be near you, he would have left, he never had any reservations for doing so when Barty got too many of his nerves or Sirius was too loud.
Yet here you were, both of you drowning in books, the silence broken only by the sound of your quills and the faint crackling of the fire. He seemed... content.
You shifted slightly in your seat, hoping to stifle a yawn as you stretched your stiff legs under the table. The movement caught Regulus’ attention, and he glanced up from his book, dark eyes scanning your face. 
“You’re tired,” he stated, his voice low and matter-of-fact. It wasn’t a question.
“Not really,” you lied, offering him a small smile as you looked back down at your notes, dried quill hovering over the page. You could feel his eyes on you for a moment longer before he returned to his book, but his silence spoke louder than any rebuttal. You weren’t fooling him, not for a second.
Regulus knew you as well by now, and he could easily see through your casual deflections. He was also sweet enough on you to not call you out on it yet.
Charms had never been so dreadful as it was tonight, all theory as you copied information from the textbook over onto your parchment. You felt yourself beginning to drift again, blinking only made you sleepier, and the words on the page blurring together in front of your eyes. You pressed your lips together, determined to stay focused, but the exhaustion clung to you like a heavy cloak.
You rearranged yourself to be more comfortable, bringing your legs up underneath you and leaning your head on your arm, taking up perhaps a bit more desk space than what is considered gracious.
Regulus’ quill still scratched against his parchment and you looked up at him through your lashes. He hadn’t glanced at you in a while, his brow furrowed as he scribbled something in the margin of the book he was reading. Upon your movements, though, you saw a small, soft smile tug on his lips, the kind that you weren't sure anyone but you would recognise.
It had become a familiar sight, both the smile and the way he hunched slightly over his work, his focus intense. It was like he was shutting out the world around him – around us, he had once absentmindedly corrected when you told him as much. His face blank then, not paying any mind to the giant grin growing on your own face.
“How do you do it?” you asked suddenly, surprising yourself with the question. Your voice was soft, but in the quiet library, it felt like a disruption. Regulus looked up, his quill pausing mid-scratch, abandoning his sentence.
“Do what?” he asked, his voice even, though there was a hint of wariness in his eyes.
“Stay so… focused,” you clarified, gesturing vaguely to the piles of books around you. “I feel like I’m drowning in information, but you’re always so… collected.”
There was a brief pause. Regulus stared at you for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he lowered his quill, folding his hands in front of him on the table.
“It’s easier that way,” he said quietly, his voice almost too soft for the stillness of the room. His eyes flicked to the side, avoiding yours as he added, “When you don’t let anything else in, it’s easier to focus.”
You studied him for a moment, noting the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders seemed to carry more weight than they should. There was always something simmering beneath the surface with Regulus – something unspoken, something guarded. He never let it out, never gave anyone the chance to see what was really going on inside his mind.
And yet, here you were, sitting across from him in a quiet library, long after everyone else had left, simply because you wanted to. So far, he had been brave enough to let you.
“And is that what you want?” you asked, keeping your tone light, non-confrontational. “To keep everything locked out?”
Regulus didn’t respond immediately. His eyes stayed fixed on the table for a long moment before he finally met your gaze again, his expression carefully controlled. “It’s necessary,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You leaned back in your chair, letting his words settle between you. Necessary. The way he said it felt heavy, like there was so much more beneath that single word. You didn’t push. You never did. Regulus wasn’t someone who opened up easily, and the last thing you wanted was to make him feel like he had to.
You wished more than anything that he could see himself the way you did. That he could let go, just a little, and realise that he didn’t have to carry everything alone.
“It doesn’t have to be,” you said softly, almost to yourself, as you turned your gaze back to your parchment.
Regulus heard you, though. He always did.
A small silence fell between you again, this one thicker with unspoken thoughts. You turned a book on its side to read it from your position lying on your arm, trying to ignore the heaviness of the atmosphere. Regulus hadn’t moved, his hands still folded in front of him, his brow slightly furrowed as though deep in thought.
“I don’t–” Regulus’ voice cuts through the quiet suddenly, making you look up. His jaw tensed slightly before he continued, “I don’t let people in because it is… easier. Safer.”
There was something vulnerable in the way he said it, as though he wasn’t used to sharing even that much. It wasn’t a full confession, not by any means, but it was more than he usually offered, and you understood how much it cost him to say even that.
“You've let me in, though, have you not?” you tried softly, offering him a small, understanding smile. “And so far it's been safe.”
Regulus blinked at that, surprise flickering in his dark eyes. He was not sure what he had expected you to say, but clearly not that.
It looked like he was at a slight loss of words, so you continued, smile still plastered on your face. "I understand what you mean, though. It's not easy to trust in general, and you have had it harder than most. Take everything in your own time, Reggie."
Regulus remained quiet, his gaze dropping back to his notes. You could feel him retreating, slipping back behind his mask, and you let him. You weren’t here to break down his defences, only to be there when he was ready to let someone in. His hand skirted closer to where yours was fidgeting with your quill – not quite touching, but close enough. Close enough.
You turned back to your book, allowing him his silence, trying to make sense of the words that felt increasingly foreign. The night was catching up with you, pulling you deeper into the edges of sleep.
“Y/N.”
Regulus’ voice brought you back to the present. You blinked, realising you had almost drifted off again, your head tilted dangerously close to the open pages of your book. There was a certain mirth in his gaze when it met yours, quickly subdued by what looked like a weary worry.
“I’m fine,” you said assuredly, straightening up in your chair with a slight wince. You could feel the stiffness settling into your back and elbow from sitting too long.
Regulus didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with that same quiet intensity he always had, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You should go,” he said after a moment, his voice softer than you expected. “It’s late.”
You gave him a sleepy smile, placing your head in your hand as you leaned on the desk. “I’m not leaving you here by yourself.”
Regulus exhaled through his nose, odd mixture of a sigh and a laugh. “I don’t mind being alone,” he said, though there was a hesitation in his voice that made you think he didn’t believe it as much as he wanted to.
“I know," you said, tone gentle, "but I do.”
"You mind being alone?"
"I mind you being alone."
That seemed to catch him off guard. He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he looked down at his lap, his quill tapping against the edge of the table in an absent rhythm. 
"I don't really know what to say to that." His face was still partially shielded from you, but you could see there was no menace in his words – just confusion, maybe even... amusement?
"Admitting you don't know something is a good start."
He gave you the first genuine laugh of the night, albeit small. "Okay then." He looked up at you finally, slight smile still playing over his features.
You watched him for a moment longer, noting the contrast of his tense shoulders with his humoured face. He was trying so hard to hold it together, even now.
"I'll stay here for as long as you do, Reg, and I know you still have a few pages left in you."
You leaned back in your chair again, stretching and letting out a small yawn. Regulus eyed you carefully, as if considering something.
"I do," he started. "But if you're staying any longer, you should get more comfortable."
He nodded his head towards the place beside him. While you were sitting in a wooden chair, he sat in a comfy, cushioned love-seat with just enough space for you to join him in. Had you not been intent on studying, you might have sat there from the start, but the harsher chair usually helps you study.
Now, though, you did not hesitate to slip around the table and sink into Regulus's seat with a sigh.
He looked at you over his shoulder, body still angled towards his notes, smiling fondly at you. "Better?"
"Much better, though I hope you know you're playing a risky game right now."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, I might fall asleep here and you will have to stay overnight. It would be rude to leave me."
Regulus just laughed, not dignifying you with further banter, as he turned back to his books. You had one in your lap as well, but the words were mostly jumbled by now.
The next hour trickled by with sparse conversation between the two of you, mostly just the comfortable silence you had grown between you over the months. You asked Regulus a question every now and again, about coursework or life, and he gave you his usual, short answers, though with a much kinder tone than he reserved for others who pestered him with interrogations.
He was halfway through an explanation of why the professor thought it necessary to make you write an essay that is essentially just restating the textbook when he felt something soft thud against him. He looked down and saw the top of your head, hair slightly messy from the hours in the library, lodged between his uniformed arm and back.
"Amour? Are you falling asleep on me?"
"..."
"Alright, then." Regulus couldn't help the smile that tugged on his lips, filled with more emotion than he would have let slide with anyone around. "You did warn me."
Careful not to startle you, he manoeuvred himself around so you were resting against his chest instead, and then slowly lowered you backwards to lean against the back of the chair. One hand cradled your head as he moved you, so you wouldn't get whiplash – there was no other reason, of course.
You were surprisingly soundly asleep for someone who asked him a question mere minutes ago, but then again, he suspected you had been fighting sleep for around two hours. To stay here with him. Regulus's heart clenched at that, and it did not go unnoticed by him that before he would have felt immense guilt for this moment occurring, and now he just felt... oddly soft. Warm.
He tried to place you in a comfortable enough position, still keeping some of your weight up with the left side of his body. With a tentative, slightly shaking thumb, he brushed away some hair that had fallen in your face
Part of Regulus ached to stay like this. To have an excuse to be this close to you, to feel so vulnerable without the overwhelming panic that often threatened to take over his body and mind. He basked in the sense of safety you were somehow able to provide him, but it would take hard work to be able to accept and embrace it. In the creeping darkness of the library, secluded just the two of you, it felt much easier.
Yet, despite your jokes about rudely waking you up, he did not want to risk detention for the both of you by being caught staying out past curfew.
"Y/N?" With a hand on your cheek, he tried to gently move your face to get your attention and draw you out from sleep. "Hey, amour, you need to wake up."
You let out an impudent groan, eyes squeezing as you turned your head a little – into Regulus's hand, he noted with hitched breath. "W'is it?" You slurred your words and he had to stifle his laughter.
"You need to wake up, darling. You fell asleep in the library, but we're done now. Time to get back to your dorm."
You just huffed at that, clearly trying to stay asleep by burying your face – still clutching Regulus's hand to the other cheek – into the cushion behind you. He tried to use his hand on your face again to lightly shake you, but you just grabbed his elbow and held it still in response. Eyes still decidedly shut.
This time, Regulus couldn't hold back his laugh, which in turn made you squint open an eye.
"What are you on about, Reggie?" Your voice was not only rough from sleep, but a bit annoyed, which in turn made Regulus all the more humoured. He never would have taken you, with all your painfully kind words and looks and understanding, to be grumpy in the morning.
"I don't even know," he said through a rather large grin. "How are you so cute right now?"
"Don't know, just am. Come sleep."
"No, no, darling. Time to get up so you can go sleep."
It seemed as if his words somehow seeped through your mind and you finally processed the situation. You opened your eyes and all-but-jerked into an up-right position – face now rather close to Regulus's, enough to see the whiteness of his teeth as he laughed at you. He was laughing at you. The bastard.
"Good morning," he teased, forgetting himself.
"Did you call me cute?"
The humour was almost washed from his face as he seemed to wake up himself, but an endearing smile still clung to his lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Mhm, sure you don't." Your smile now matched his. "How much do you have left?" You gestured to his books with your free hand – only now noticing that your other was still clutching his elbow. His hand dropped from your face the second your properly woke up, but you never let go of him. Maybe the sleep made you delirious or his comment made you brave, because you kept your hand on him.
"Oh, I'm finished." He gave you a look that you couldn't tell if was teasing because you clearly didn't or if he was lying about being done so you could go sleep. Either way, you accepted it.
"Great, let's get us to bed then, shall we?"
When Regulus got out of his seat, he held out a hand to you, to help you up. When you accepted it and ended up standing almost impossibly close to him, he didn't step back, and he didn't look away. He just smiled.
"Yeah, let's."
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ariaste · 2 months ago
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So excited to announce my next book, YIELD UNDER GREAT PERSUASION, coming out on September 17th! If you've never read any of my books before, no worries--this is a standalone, so you can jump right in without any extra context. (The stunning cover art is by the amazingly talented @holographings -- go check out all his other art!)
"Alongside the sexiness and absurdity (and the sexy absurdity) in Yield Under Great Persuasion is a tender, resonant story of second and third chances and being loved when we need it most and feel we deserve it least. Evocative, emotional, and endlessly entertaining." —Jules Arbeaux, author of Lord of the Empty Isles
SUMMARY:
Tam Becket has hated Lord Lyford since they were boys. The fact that he’s also been sleeping with the man for the last ten years is irrelevant. When they were both nine years old, Lyford smashed Tam’s entry into the village’s vegetable competition. Nearly twenty years later, Tam still hasn’t forgiven the bastard. No one understands how deeply he was hurt that day, how it set a pattern of small disappointments and misfortunes that would run through the rest of his life. Now Tam has reconciled himself to the fact that love and affection are for other people, that the gods don’t care and won’t answer any of his prayers (not even the one about afflicting Lyford with a case of flesh-eating spiders to chew off his privates), and that life is inherently mundane, joyless, and drab. But then, the very last straw: Tam discovers that Lyford (of all people!) bears the divine favor of Angarat, the goddess Tam feels most betrayed and abandoned by. In his hurt and anger, Tam packs up and prepares to leave the village for good. But the journey doesn’t take him far, and Tam soon finds himself set on a quest for the most difficult of all possible prizes: Self care, forgiveness, a second chance... and somehow the unbelievably precious knowledge that there is at least one person who loves Tam for exactly who he is—and always has.
This book might be for you if:
You like enemies-to-lovers but you think it would be improved by being a one-sided situationship, and meanwhile the other person is living through a "hopelessly yearning for childhood crush" trope
you like it when two people are so, so, so stupid that they've been fucking for 10 years and Person A hasn't figured out that Person B is in love with him, and Person B hasn't realized that Person A doesn't even know about his feelings
You know how fucking hard it is to Do The Work In Therapy and you want some catharsis about it
you want to read about an imperfect, truly difficult person who still gets loved, because being perfect is not a requirement to deserve affection and care
you know that merely saying sorry for wronging someone doesn't just magically take away the bad feelings and automatically repair the relationship, and you want to read about someone having to do the extra steps that come after the apology
this one's for the wlw: fat harvest goddess milf. my gift to u
you like gods who don't have anything better to do than stick their noses into human business
when you see a gorgeous man holding an infant, it takes you out at the knees
you like queernorm fantasy AND small-town gossip, and you find the intersection of the two delicious and intriguing
a religion based on pre-Christian Brythonic England. That is, they've got henges and standing stones instead of churches and altars. it's cool
plant magic!!!!!
"god of temptation and evil"? No, actually that's the god of self-indulgence, self-care, personal boundaries, and taking responsibility for the consequences you consented to.
You can preorder it in ebook, hardback, and paperback from most retailers (with more coming soon), but if you'd like to order an autographed copy from me directly, just fill out this form! :) Signups for autographed copies close on August 31st, so hurry hurry hurry if you want to nab yours!
(Signal boosts are very much appreciated! 🙏)
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sleepershell · 11 months ago
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pairing coriolanus snow x capitol!fem!reader
content coryo is his own warning, ambitious reader, relatively nice coryo, 18+ nsfw minors DNI pls, oral sex (female receiving & male receiving), slight use of force, gentle dom
synopsis you offer your best friend Coryo something he can’t refuse when he’s over at your house
wc 2222
Coriolanus Snow never paid attention the way I wanted him to. Even with the house all to ourselves, my parents away attending to business, he was studying. It’d been weeks since I’d gotten him to come over to hang out and even then he chose to come over and study. I let out a long sigh.
“Coryo, can we please do something else?”
His eyes didn’t even lift from the book his nose was buried in. “Soon. We have a paper due on this in a week.”
“Don’t remind me.” I huffed. “I'm not even as far as you are.”
Still focused on the page, he slid my own copy across the table, closer to me. “Then you should be reading.”
I took the book begrudgingly and opened to where I’d left off. I couldn’t focus on any of the words with him sitting right there, so I hopped up from my seat and began to pace about the room, book held out in front of me. It was a sunny winter day, and our big drawing room windows let in huge swaths of sunlight. They felt pleasantly warm on my arms through my silken shirt sleeves.
Sudden movement made me jump as Coryo set down his book. “Would you please stop that pacing, I can’t concentrate at all!” He was such a grump most of the time. It made him all the more fun to tease.
“Oh, but I can’t concentrate without pacing.”
“Well, do it elsewhere, then.”
“That would defeat the purpose of having you over, wouldn’t it?”
He looked at me, his mouth pursed, before beginning to stand. “You’re right.”
“No, no, no, no.” I rushed over to him, gently grasping his arm. “I just won’t study.”
He sat back down in the sitting chair I’d dragged over to the table for him. He would never be so careless with my parents’ furniture, so I made sure to always do what I could to accommodate him. I was the only one in school who knew how he lived. It was by accident, truly. We’d been very young when I’d followed him home from school. His family had insisted on me coming in once I knocked despite Coriolanus being horribly upset at my being there. But I’d never told a soul. I think in a way it was a relief for him to have one person who knew, one person he could talk to. Not that he often would. He preferred to hold that part of him very close. I was his best friend and, still, I felt I couldn't get him to see me. Occasionally he’d take comfort in me but his focus was always elsewhere.
Satisfied that he wasn’t going anywhere, I left him alone to go sit in the wide outcropping sill of one of the windows. It was even warmer there, and I felt like a cat all perched up with my knees to my chest. He was so solemn as he read, his eyebrows scrunched in focus. A beautiful blonde curl fell in front of his face. He remained still but for his breathing, as if he hadn’t noticed. As he turned the page, I watched his strong fingers. He was able to hold the book open with one hand, the other pressed to his lips. I listened as the grandfather clock ticked on. Wondered for the better part of an hour whether he’d ever look up, whether he’d ever see me.
“Coryo?”
He turned his intense eyes up to me.
I stood and unbuttoned the front of my blouse, letting it fall to my sides and reveal the white lace brassiere beneath.
He blinked but didn’t spare a gaze at my chest. “I’m busy right now.”
I crossed the room to him, slipping off my loafers on the way and leaving my blouse behind. He was practically hunched over the book. I placed my hands on the back of his perfectly tailored red jacket. He was so good at appearing perfect, wasn’t he? Sometimes I hated him for it. In truth, my own parents liked him better than me. But as I felt the hardness of his shoulders and the heat through the fabric, I realized exactly how I could get his attention.
I leaned forward, curling my arms around the front of him. My face nestled into his neck, I took a deep breath of his scent—the faintest whiff of human sweat behind clean linen and flowering roses. He hummed as I whispered into his ear.
“I think it’s time for a break.”
He tensed. “(Y/n), you know I can't. I need to keep my place at the top.”
I grumbled and let him go, pacing back to where I’d left the shirt. I unhooked my skirt there, dropping it in a heap at my ankles. When I turned to look at him, he’d taken out a damned pencil and was underlining something in the book. I stomped toward him and placed my palms firmly on the cool wood of the table.
“Coriolanus, you’ll need more than good grades on your side and you know it.” Finally, I had his attention. He was frowning at me, as usual, but it was a start. “I can get you the rest, but I won’t be so inclined if you can’t even spare a moment to indulge me.”
The book slapped shut as he removed his thumb. “What are you doing?” He looked at me like an adversary. I felt a fire in my core knowing that I could get him riled up. It meant he knew I wasn't like most of those other idiots at the Academy. I didn’t study because I didn't care much about my grades despite having the aptitude. I was assured a comfortable life regardless. I doubted he saw anyone as an equal, so I’d have to settle for being a worthy opponent.
I crouched down, crawling toward him under the table like a stalking cat. As I kneeled before him he looked down at me with a peculiar expression.
“Mr. Snow, I think you’ll find it quite hard to claw your way to the top without some extra cash in your pockets.” The crotch of his pants was beginning to look a bit too tight. I bent forward to place a kiss on it and heard him hiss in response.
“You’re obscene, you know that?���
“What’s obscene, Mr. Snow, is the wealth my parents are drowning in.” I leaned my head on his thigh, peering up at him as innocently as I could manage. “Wealth I can influence in the direction I’d like it to go. And they do so love you. It wouldn’t even be a hard sell.”
I could see the ghost of a smile on his face and knew I’d said the right thing. “Call me President.”
“Yes, President Snow.” I said it prettily, and his smile broadened at the sound.
“You’ve decided to bribe me like I’m a whore.” He said, all the while undoing his trousers. I was getting exactly what I wanted, but the deal was even sweeter for him, I knew.
His hardness sprang from his briefs with power. I ran a fingertip along its length. It was already leaking at the tip, and I brushed over it causing him to shudder. Without breaking eye contact, I licked it off my finger.
“Oh fuck,” he muttered. His hips tipped forward the slightest bit, clearly yearning for me to take him in my mouth. And I did. With one hand gripped around the warm base, I slid my lips over him. He was larger than I’d realized before, so I began slowly, only taking half of it. He groaned, and I had to press my own legs together in response to the twinge between them. I was able to touch my lips to my hand after a few bobs of my head, and as I descended onto him, he seemed to come to life.
I felt his hands both rest gently on the back of my head as I moved, making sure I knew not to back off too far. If I did, I would find the end to that gentleness. His breathing was quickened which made me respond by increasing my own speed. That must have been it for him, because I felt his hands turn to stone as he began bucking his hips, thrusting himself further into my mouth.
As he fucked, I could feel the end of him hitting me in the throat, almost too far but not quite. He was groaning little affirmations to me then, as he used me to get chase the feeling building up inside him. Saliva was beginning to fall from my mouth around his cock, and I could feel some of it running down my chin and throat, sliding onto my chest. He pushed himself to the end and held himself in my throat, giving me no warning before spilling heat inside me. I felt the twitch and his whole body go still as his cum pumped into me. It was so deep it took no effort to swallow. When he relaxed, my head lolled to rest on his thigh. I listened as his breathing evened out. I stood.
“Well,” My voice was hoarse so I cleared my throat. “Would you like to get back to work now?”
He frowned up at me again, stood so fast I could hardly register it. His face leaned in so close to me, thumb brushed my chin and the other hand curled around my waist. I was suddenly very aware of how little fabric covered my body. My skin turned to gooseflesh. He peered into my face with those wide, puppy dog eyes of his. I couldn’t summon any words.
“I’m not through with you.” He growled.
My butt had been pressed into the edge of the table behind me, and he pushed my back onto it as well. The drawing room chandelier was right above me, shining in the sun.
A finger traced over my thigh. He was standing there looking down on me, like an appraisal. I thought about cringing from his gaze but didn’t think I could even feign being that demure. This was exactly what I wanted. His finger moved across the silk of my panties. Our eyes locked, and a smile returned, his nostrils flaring slightly in amusement. I was certainly soaked.
“(Y/n), is this really all you want in exchange for a fortune?”
It wasn’t, but the rest seemed like a hard sell.
“No.”
He raised a brow in question.
“Finish me first, President Snow, then I’ll tell you.”
He shook his head, smile growing even wider. He disappeared from my view as my panties were tugged to the side. Hot breath grazed my exposed sex. An impatient whine slipped from my throat, and then his mouth was there, all there, placing a flurry of kisses all around before licking his tongue gently up my center.
“Fuck, Coryo please, just—“
His tongue circled my clit, finally giving me what I was dying for. My ass clenched, pushing myself into him harder. Hands wrapped around my thighs, roughly grabbing as he began flicking his tongue on my most sensitive part. I let myself go limp. He’d never gone down on me before, and it was like he’d been starving the entire time. He spat on my pussy and licked it into a dripping mess. I felt teeth gently nip at my clit, driving my pulse and breath to quicken.
He was moaning, saying words I couldn’t decipher because his mouth was preoccupied. My name was certainly one of them, though. The vibrations of his moaning mixed with the rhythmic press of his tongue was pushing me closer and closer. The pleasure only increased until I was teetering on the edge, trying to hold onto that feeling. His own noises were so loud I’d have expected he was the one getting serviced. And then his fingers slid into me and I couldn’t hold on. I was a spasming mess, whining as my pussy clenched around his fingers. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, feel it everywhere else.
When I opened my eyes, Coryo was fastening his pants, wiping wetness from his chin.
“Well?” He inquired, without looking my way.
I pushed myself up, didn’t want us to be too different in height. In fact, I think sitting on the table leant me an inch or two. On the floor below me, I saw a dark spot on the carpet. He’d cum a second time while buried in my cunt.
“Coryo, what’s that thing you always say, about Snow? About your family?”
His blue eyes fell on me, bright and intense.
“Snow lands on top.”
I quirked my head to the side. “I want that, too. So I’m not asking for release. I’m asking you to make me a Snow.”
The corners of his lips turned up but his brows creased, wary. He returned to the place between my legs, this time holding my face, searching it.
“You want me to marry you?”
And l knew exactly who he was, so I capitalized on the moment. “I want to belong to you, President Snow.”
The ocean in his eyes caught fire.
Xx
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