#am a bit fixated on this guy sorry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 1 month

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4k celebration

i want to see feral lando. dom lando. choking and degrading and rough lando. maybe a bad race, maybe flirting with another driver. weeknd vibes lando. rough rough rough lando.

heat.

ln x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which lando fucks you until the sun comes up :)

i am. feral. there are no words to describe how unhinged i am over this, this is super self indulgent and i cannot thank you enough anon hehe - lemme know what y’all think ily! <3

songs to set the mood: earned it by the weeknd, novacane by frank ocean, heaven angel by the driver era

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp with a bit of plot, choking, crying, swearing, overstimulation, neck? riding? (hehe), degradation, a slap or two, soft dom!lando, also not so soft dom!lando (he switches up a bit), just feral unhinged vibes

2k words

foreglow:

the glow of light appearing in the sky preceding sunrise

the sunrise casts a tangerine foreglow over your bodies, the bed, everything the light can touch.

lando’s slumped against the headboard and you’re sprawled over his lap, legs hooked over his, with his hand working between your thighs.

it’s been hours. he’s had you spread out for him, countless positions and locations utilised. you were paying for your behaviour over the race weekend, but really, it was all his fault.

he’d been too cocky, looked too good, the australian air getting to his head. you’d been glowering at him since you’d arrived in the land down under, watching in erotically charged horror as he paraded around looking, to put it simply, slutty. tight shorts, arms out, neck on display for all to see. his fucking neck. god, it looked so thick, flexing every time he turned to smirk at you. the heat rendered you delirious, and so did he.

and you couldn’t even think about that fucking daddy bracelet he’d been sporting.

you decided you needed payback, in the form of some carefully constructed, harmless flirting with everyone from the mechanics to the guys on the pit wall old enough to be your father. but lo and behold, it worked, and that’s how you found yourself in this position.

the position in question?

being fucked every which way lando deemed fit until the sun came up.

“you learnt your lesson yet, baby?” lando grunts into your ear, pinching your clit between his fingers.

your thighs are soaked, shaking uncontrollably, and your head has lulled back against his shoulder. you’re breathing heavily, your back flush against his front and he’s restless. you’ve lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve been pushed to.

“lan.” you breathe, eyes fixated on the bracelet adorning his wrist. the kitschy trinket sends liquid fire down your spine and you spasm as he continues to swirl his calloused thumb over your clit.

“that’s not an answer.” he tuts, slipping his fingers through your slit until he’s circling your weeping entrance. you’re coated with slick, some of it his from where he’d fucked you up against the wall a good few hours ago. “have you,” he kisses your shoulder, trailing his fingers that were digging into your hip up your belly. “learnt your lesson?” his teeth sink into your flesh at the same time he pinches your nipple.

you gasp out a cry of his name, slurring incomprehensibly, “yes, yes, ‘m sorry, i’m so sorry.” you sob. his chest rumbles cruelly with laughter and you’re hurtling towards another release, the overstimulation making it easy for him to get you off.

“that’s all you needed to say, honey.” lando coos condescendingly.

as if he’s rewarding you for owning up, two of his fingers sink into your entrance, sliding deep. the sound of your wetness sends your eyes rolling back as he scissors his digits in and out of you, speeding them up into a delicious grind. you’re a mess in seconds, slumped into him as close as can be. kisses over your neck soothe you and you feel the wet rush of your release approaching quicker than you can comprehend it. you gush all over his fingers, dripping down his wrist, coating that annoying fucking bracelet.

“there you go, baby. so good for me.” he whispers, slowing his thrusts. “can you turn over for me? want you to look at me.”

you pant as you wriggle around in his arms until you’re straddling his lap. you can feel yourself dripping on him, his thick length sliding between your folds. the exhaustion renders you languid, ready to let him do just about whatever he wants to you next.

lando cups your breast, stroking gently over your nipple while he runs his tongue all over his long fingers. he loves to make you watch, torturing you until you’re needy for another release.

“you think you can do a few more for me?” lando smirks, bringing the fingers that he’d just licked clean to your other breast, fiddling with your other nipple. he has you rolling your hips against him, inadvertently chasing another high already. he loves it, revels in how he can reduce you to this, so desperate that you’re grinding down on his cock, a wet mess in his lap, all for him.

“yeah, lan.” you nod profusely, your tired eyes locked with his. the early morning sun hits them enticingly, making them sparkle green in the warm light. he looks disgustingly gorgeous like this, soft and yours, resting against the headboard, curls spilling over his forehead and into his eyes. if you didn’t know that he was mulling over a million twisted ideas in his brain that involved resorting you to tears of pleasure, you’d think he looked adorable.

“good.” he grins. “not even nearly done with you.” he looks evil; your thighs clench around his hips.

without moving you off of his lap, he uses his strength to slide down the bed until he lays flat. he beckons you to crawl up his body, and you find the strength to wriggle over him, thighs resting on either side of his neck when he stops you.

“you gonna slide your pretty little cunt over my neck?” lando asks, wrapping his huge hands around your thighs. you gulp, staring down at him dumbfounded. “don’t look at me like i’m crazy, baby. you think i don’t see you staring at it with that special little look in your eyes?” he teases. “get to fucking work, i’m not gonna ask again.”

hesitantly, you lower yourself against his his skin, flaming red with embarrassment and lust. you can’t lie and pretend that you aren’t utterly enticed by this, that you aren’t leaking down your thighs at the prospect of sliding your pussy along his tanned, flexed flesh. the adventurousness of the escapade makes your legs tremble, nerves eating you alive, but it’s all worth it when you feel that first glide.

you curse out, loud and breathy, the new sensation creating lewd sounds between you. he’s obsessed, staring up at you in mischievous awe as you rock your hips backwards and forwards. you tangle one hand in his hair, tugging hard in sheer desperation, while the other hand balances you against the headboard so you don’t crush him. he guides your hips like he wants to die like this, suffocated by you and everything you have to offer him.

“oh my fucking god.” you choke out a moan, jaw hanging agape as you continue to slide against him. every time you move forwards, you feel the delectable prickle of his trimmed facial hair scratching against your inner thighs and your eyes squeeze shut each time, pure pleasure bubbling in the pit of your belly.

“you have no idea how fucking good you look.” lando rasps, digging his fingertips into the meat of your thighs. you’re so tense, teetering on the very edge. the strength he possesses, his composure while you’re sitting on his fucking neck makes you throb.

you gaze down at him, feral, and it does something to him, because he’s yanking you up onto his parted lips, burying his face as far as it will go. you yelp, collapsing into the headboard as he holds you down on his tongue, lapping up your mess.

“can taste us.” he mumbles into the flesh of your cunt, barely audible, but you hear it and it makes you shiver. you black out as your orgasm hits, your ears ringing as bliss courses through your limp body like a delicious electric shock. your nerves are shot when he rolls you onto your back.

“fucking heaven.” lando groans, crawling over you as he licks his lips.

he’s invigorated by the taste of you, how spent you are, and how it’s all his fault. you can’t string a sentence together, but you’re grabbing at his toned body like you’re begging silently for more, anything. he needs to drive into you, fill up up, make you remember that your little games will always lead back to this, the reminder that you’re his.

“you sensitive, honey?” he growls, hand sliding between your legs while his necklace rests in the valley between your breasts. you whimper at the sensation, overloaded, nodding. you both know you need more; he needs more. “tough.”

lando practically folds you in half when he fucks into you, giving you no solace in adjusting to him. he ruts into you hard, fast, unrelenting as he sinks deeper and deeper with every thrust.

“you’re gonna behave from now on. you don’t need to make me jealous for me to fuck you.” he grunts. his slaps your hip, the harsh snap leaving a sting that has you convulsing. “this is what you deserve isn’t it? whoring yourself out because you were a wet mess for me all weekend.”

you whine his name, sobs wracking your body. he feels utterly divine hammering into you like life itself depends on it. you’ve lost track of where he stops and you begin, stars behind your eyes that turn into butterflies festering in your belly. you’re so full, flushed beneath him, gushing every time he opens his dirty fucking mouth.

“crying for me, love?” he mocks, lowering himself to get even closer to you, his tongue finding your tears tracks and licking the salty residue away until you’re shuddering.

“please, lando, please, told you i’m sorry.” you plead, begging for something undisclosed, but it’s okay, because he knows exactly what to do with you.

“be fucking quiet.” lando coos once more, sickeningly unsympathetic.

but you can’t help it, whimpering out his name, begging for some form of relief, or mercy, or for him to just fuck you impossibly harder. how can you be quiet when he’s tearing you so perfectly apart?

lando doesn’t like being disobeyed, so when you continue to sob, loud and lewdly, his hand finds it’s way to the base of your throat. your jaw goes slack, wheezing at the intense rush you get when he squeezes slowly, and you can’t help but let go.

“fucking- lando!” you writhe.

“i know, baby, i know.” he shushes you, hooking your leg even higher so that he can bury himself as deep as possible.

you spasm hard, impossibly tight around him and he stutters, collapsing you both hard into the mattress. you hold him so, so tight as he cums, shooting into you. you can feel him leaking out of you already, white hot, and laying there in a heap of sweat and adoration. he breathes a laugh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“are you okay, honey?” he whispers, kissing your collarbone.

“just peachy. a bit knackered.” you giggle, tangling your fingers into his damp curls.

“so, you liked the bracelet then?” he teases, nose bumping against your cheek as he raises his wrist to your eye line.

“i think it needs a clean.” you wrinkle your nose, thinking about what the beads had been exposed to over the last few hours.

“let’s shower, hm? then we can watch the sunrise.” lando suggests, sitting you up slowly.

“you’re gonna need to carry me.” your legs are still quivering.

“anything for you.” he says, hand over his heart.

45 minutes later, the sun is sitting pretty, high in the sky.

7:26am, the clock reads. the melbourne skyline glimmers hot with the rise of a new day.

you’re snuggled into his side, wet hair cooling the heat of damp skin. your eyes flutter, barely fighting the urgent need to sleep.

“you have no idea how much i love you.” lando caresses your stringy locks, pushing the hair from your eyes.

your bare bodies mould together, basking in the orange of the dawn.

“love you.” you mutter, brushing your lips against his chest in an open mouthed kiss. “promise i’ll start behaving.” you snicker.

“but baby, you know i love it when you’re bad.”

“okay, i’ll remember that… daddy.” you retort, a teasing lilt to your tone.

he ignores the way his blood rushes south, too conscious of your exhausted body - and his own - to climb on top of you and fuck you until the sun sets once more.

“get some sleep.” he whispers through gritted teeth.

you sink into sleep while he watches over you. the view from the hotel room is gorgeous, breathtaking, but why would he give it even a millisecond of his attention when he has you?

head? empty.

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hanggarae · 2 months

Text

꒰ BANDAGES + KISSES !

↺ synopsis ; bandaging seungcheol at 1 am in your bathroom

f! reader, fighter/wrestler au (listen i wrote this during my five minute fixation on wwe after i saw a reel do not perceive me rn), fluff, sort of comfort ? divider by cafekitsune

seungcheol watched as you rubbed the alcohol wipe over his knuckles, careful in the way you let the wipe touch him so it wouldn’t sting.

your tongue wasn’t sticking out of the corner of your lip like it usually did when you were concentrated. instead, your teeth were biting your lip back softly. if seungcheol didn’t know better, he would’ve mistaken it with how you bite your lip when you were flustered at his actions.

but seungcheol did know you better. he knew you were biting your lip to stop any sad sighs from escaping, the same way you were stopping tears from escaping by blinking so much.

the brunette pondered for a few seconds on how he should break the silence, but settled on keeping the comfortable silence intact.

you were almost done taking care of seungcheol’s hands and urged him to turn around so you could take care of his back.

you winced at the marks left from his opponent during his match earlier but bit back your feelings, grabbing a cotton wipe to clean and soothe any scar.

“baby” seungcheol whispered, looking at you through the mirror. “i’m sorry”

you shook your head, gulping to swallow the lump in your throat. “don’t apologise, there’s nothing for you to be sorry for”

“i promise” you added on when you saw the disagreement on his face.

seungcheol started to turn back around to watch your face carefully. “how is there nothing to apologise about? my girl looks so sad it has to be someone’s fault, right?”

“not yours” you whispered, getting another cotton ball to wipe at the scar on his face, partly to distract yourself.

“how was i? was i cool?” seungcheol said again after a few more minutes of silence.

you nodded at his question, silently agreeing. you weren’t lying, it always impressed you how skilled seungcheol was.

“do you ever want me to stop?” seungcheol almost regrets asking, whispering it in subtle hopes you wouldn’t hear it.

but you did and you weren’t sure how to answer. after thinking on it for a few seconds, you watched seungcheol’s expression, worried about what you’d answer. “i could never ask you to stop because i know how much you love doing what you do. besides, it’s you that’s getting hurt so i’ll support whatever you do”

he smiled at your answer, coming forward to peck your lips while his hands circled your waist. “i’ll make sure to get hurt less, yeah?”

“it’s not your fault, but remind me to beat up that guy that you fought tonight next time i see him” you giggled.

“will do” seungcheol smiled gently, “all done?” he looked down at you beginning to put away the leftover bandages in the kit.

“not yet” you mumbled, pushing some of his hair back to place a kiss over the bandage on his cheek, and then his knuckles. “there, now i’m done”

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #scoups x y/n #scoups x you #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol imagines #seungcheol x you #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader

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astermath · 11 months

Text

title taken ✧*

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan makes an offhand comment about potentially “dying a virgin”. you ask him if he’d like you to help with that. and how could he possibly refuse?

word count: 3.8K

notes: first time fully writing smut on this blog! I hope I did okay lol I probs got a bit carried away,, I remember hearing his comment in the movie and being like I VOLUNTEER I CAN HELP lmao, anyways,,, comments / reblogs are highly appreciated, and requests are open! lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related content!

warnings: cursing, protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), ethan realizing how much he loves going down on you lol, MINORS DNI!!!! normal sized font below!

notes: guys hot take but I think ethan is a boobs guy, but what do you think? sound off in the comments ethan nation

P.S.: this is a REPOST with some slight edits, sorry for the inconvenience!!

You distinctly remember the moment when Ethan made that comment.

You were all sitting outside, discussing your theories as to who the Ghostface killer could be and who you guys should be watching out for. When Ethan realized he was part of the core friend group, and as a result, also a target, he looked panicked.

“Am I gonna die a virgin?”

It was an offhand comment that no one paid much attention to, it seemed like everyone pretty much expected that from him. But you didn’t. Sure, he was a total dork, and really bad at talking to girls, but he was a pretty boy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered hooking up with him before, but… That comment truly solidified the thought for you.

The two of you were sat on the couch of Chad and Ethan’s shared dorm. Despite Mindy telling you she didn’t trust him and that you shouldn’t be hanging out alone with him, you did very much need his tutoring. You’d rather get killed by Ghostface than have to retake econ.

But you couldn’t focus on the material. Not when Ethan’s virgin comment was making all kinds of images appear in your mind. You weren’t even listening to what he was saying, your brain having a field day with the thought of you taking that title away from him.

“Hey, Ethan.” You finally spoke up, looking away from your notes.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, the end of his pen held to his lips. He always had a habit of biting his pen when he got distracted.

“Are you really a virgin?”

The bluntness of your out of the blue question completely took him out of it. His eyes widened and he just sort of froze up, like his brain short circuited. You could tell he started blushing, and god did it look adorable.

“U-Uhm…” He put down his pen and tried to look anywhere but where your eyes were. Frankly, he was a bit embarrassed about it. He’d never even had a girlfriend, let alone have sex before, and as much as Chad tried to get him involved with girls he always struggled with it. Not just because of how awkward he generally was.

But because he had a crush on you already.

No one knew, not even his roommate, but lately he’d been struggling with keeping it to himself, especially as the two of you had been hanging out more on your own. There were so many moments where he just wanted to be closer to you, move all these papers aside and just kiss you right then and there.

His eyes were fixated on his laptop as he swallowed hard, clearly nervous about the whole ordeal. “Uhm… Yeah. I am…” He brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to keep his hands busy so his nerves wouldn’t show as much. “Just… Never got around to it.” He chuckled nervously.

You closed your laptop, realizing you’d made the poor boy uncomfortable with your sudden interest in his sex life. Or, well, lack there of. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s nothing to be ashamed about, there’s no, like, expiration date on when you have to fuck someone…” You tried to make him feel a bit better.

Ethan nodded awkwardly, genuinely wishing this couch would just swallow him whole so he could disappear. The girl he liked knew he was a virgin loser with no game, there was no way you were ever going to want him now.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Ethan wondering if it was too late to jump out a window and forget this ever happened. You, however, had a different turn of events in mind.

“Do you want me to help with that?”

Those words made Ethan look up from his laptop and his eyes widen. If your previous question was a pitch, this one was a home run. He wasn’t even completely sure if you actually asked that or if he imagined it, until he met your gaze. But he wanted to be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. “W-What?”

You shuffled a little closer, legs touching his, putting a hand on his thigh and leaning in slightly. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

Ethan can feel blood rush to his cock from the question alone, his gaze darting from your lips back up to your eyes. If this was a dream, it was definitely the best one he’s had so far.

“Yes.”

Your lips meet his only a second after his reply, the book on his lap falling to the floor as you both lean in at the same time. You could tell he was nervous, but that didn’t stop him from trying. You tilted your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly to run your tongue across his bottom lip, an action that elicited a slight whimper from him.

His arms snaked around your waist and you raised yourself up onto his lap. A hand soon found its place in his curls, tugging gently to tilt his head back as your lips traveled down to his jaw, then to his neck, peppering gentle kisses and love bites on the way.

“S-Shit…” He spoke between hot breaths, one of his hands now resting on the soft flesh of your thigh, squeezing slightly whenever your teeth would bite down on his sensitive skin.

You giggle softly at how sensitive he was, lips sucking a darker mark on the spot below his ear. His hips were shifting beneath you, and even through multiple layers of clothing, you could tell he was getting harder by the second. You pulled back, hands coming up to cup his pretty face. He was already panting a bit, cheeks tinged pink from all this newfound excitement. “You look so pretty...” You press another soft kiss to his lips. “This okay?”

Ethan looks up at you with an almost desperate look in those doe eyes of his, nodding at your question. As much as you wanted to fuck him right then and there, Ethan deserved to be taken care of a little, especially since this was his first time experiencing most of this.

“Good, good...” Your thumb rubs gently across the soft skin of his cheek. “Wanna... Take this to the bedroom?”

“Please.” He breathes out against your lips.

The walk, or almost run to his bedroom, was a blur in your mind. You wasted no time, quickly getting inside and locking the door behind you both. Ethan was eager now that this was finally feeling real, hands swiftly finding your hips again and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

“Hmm... Someone’s excited...” You mumbled in between kisses, stumbling backwards onto the bed until your back hit the mattress. Ethan held himself above you, brown curls perfectly framing his face as he admired how beautiful you looked on his bed.

He kissed you again, tongues playing with one another as his confidence was spurred on by his pure exhilaration. “Been... Wanting to do this forever...” He spoke against your lips as your hands searched for the hem of his shirt. “With you...” He pulled his shirt off in a hurry, diving back to meet your neck, pressing feverish kisses to your skin.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip, hand coming up to further push him into the crook where your shoulder and neck met. You let out a soft mewl when he bit down, wondering if he’d imagined this before. One of your hands moved over his chest, nails raking over the skin and undoubtedly leaving red lines in their wake. They travelled over his abs, down to his crotch, palming slightly, which earned a delicious groan from him.

You tilt your head to kiss the side of his head and get his attention to meet your gaze. His eyes find yours, half lidded, pupils blown out like he was high off the moment. “Me too.” You say, and you could swear it activated something in him when you did.

His hands start roaming under your shirt, and you take that as your cue to take yours off too. He stops for a moment, purely to admire the newly exposed parts of your body. Sure, he’d snuck glances at your chest when you wore tighter shirts, or when the collar would dip down just enough to give him a peek. But he only imagined touching your tits, how soft they were, how well you’d react to his hands.

His hand reached out and he gently cupped your breast, still a little careful. “So soft...” He mumbled to himself, his thumb slowly rolling over your nipple, almost teasingly so. You whined softly, arching your back a little into his touch. His other hand joined in and he squeezed them a bit, seemingly entranced by just how soft and pleasant they felt. Like they were made to be held by him.

He leaned down to your chest and looked up at you with puppy eyes. He could ask you to rob a bank with those eyes, and you’d do it. You just hoped he didn’t realize how you weak you were to that look.

“Can I?” He licked his lips.

“Y-Yeah, Ethan, anything...” You rubbed your thighs together. You knew he was just taking things slow, for both of your sakes, but god it felt like he was teasing you so badly.

He licked your nipple, a little hesitant, but he took the hand in his hair as a sign that he could continue. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and suckled softly, closing his eyes as his fingers played around with your other nipple. You swore he was getting off on just sucking and touching your tits, noticing slight movements of his hips grinding into the bed.

He let go with an audible ‘pop’, earning a delicious whimper from you.

“E-Ethan...” You whined, catching your bottom lip under your teeth.

“Yeah...?” He hoped he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Touch me...” You spread your thighs a little more. “Please?”

“O-Oh, right... Sorry, I just... Got a little caught up in the moment.” He chuckled nervously and you did the same. You were glad there was still an air of lightness surrounding the whole ordeal. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel judged or uncomfortable.

He moved back a little between your thighs, hands exploring the soft skin of your legs with a pleased hum. He’d dreamt about moments like these so many times, ever since you became part of the friend group, he just couldn’t stop imagining what it was like. What you’d feel like, what you’d sound like... He was still processing a little that it was all actually happening.

His hand hesitatingly moved over your inner thigh, bringing a finger to gently trace over the fabric of your panties. His eyes widened a little at what he felt; you were soaked. He felt a little more confident in knowing he did that to you, but also a little shocked. “You’re... So wet...”

You brought up your hands to cover your face. You were, yes, but the way he was saying it made you all the more conscious about the effects he was having on your body. “Ethan... That’s-- You can’t...”

He grinned slightly at your reaction. He never knew you could get shy like this, you were usually such an open person. “Alright, let me just...” His fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties. He bit his lip when he discovered the hot wetness there, gently running over your slicked folds. “Is this okay?” he looked up at you.

“Mhm...” You nodded, your thighs twitching slightly when his finger grazed over your clit. “F-Fuck, yes... There, keep... Keep doing that.” You felt a little guilty for a second, remembering this was supposed to be about him. But you were doing him a favor, really, he was bound to have to find out how to touch a girl sooner or later.

His middle finger ran gentle and slow circles over your clit as his other hand kept busy running up and down your thigh. He stopped for a moment, hooking his finger around the elastic of your panties, looking at you for approval to take them off. You said something along the lines of “go ahead” between your whimpers, so he gently removed them from your body.

Again, he was taken aback by how beautiful you were, pussy glistening with juices. “God...” His thumb ran over your clit and you shivered slightly, having missed his touch, even if it was just for a few moments.

An idea sprung alive in his head, something he’d thought about many times before. “Hey, uhm... Can I...” He seemed nervous about proposing it.

“Hm? What is it Ethan?” You propped yourself up slightly onto your elbows, looking at him.

“Can I go down on you?” He paused for a moment, swallowing. “I, uh... I’ve always wanted to try that.”

You smiled at his request. Usually, the first thing guys would want is for a girl to go down on them, but you supposed Ethan wanted to explore all the options a little first. And maybe he wanted this to last longer than he would with your mouth on him. “Y-Yeah, sure...”

He smiled back, arms now on both sides of your thighs as he leaned his head down closer to your aching core. His hot breath hit your pussy, and you resisted the urge to just pull him closer. Instead, you ran your fingers over his scalp with an encouraging nudge. He stuck out his tongue, running it flat over the entirety of your wetness, humming at the taste.

You squirmed when he reached your clit, and his hands came up to settle on your thighs. He flicked his tongue and you moaned, almost obscenely, at the action. “F-Fuck!” He did it again, and your thighs started clamping down on him. “Jesus, Ethan...” He brought his lips down onto the needy bundle of nerves and suckled gently. Your head threw back as his tongue sent waves of warm tingles through your entire body.

“A-Are you sure this is your first time?” You spoke breathily through your moans and it only spurred him on further. He looked up at you with those all too familiar puppy eyes, tongue eagerly lapping at your juices. He moaned into your cunt, rutting into the bed slightly, fuck it felt good to please you.

You felt a familiar knot start to form in your stomach, hips moving against Ethan’s face as you mumbled his name over your whimpers. He sucked down on your clit again and that sent you over the edge, hand gripping his curls as you became undone beneath him. You rode it out on his face a bit before you relaxed back onto the mattress, thighs trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. “Holy shit... Ethan...��

He slowly got up, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. “I hope I did alright.” He smiled, gently stroking your leg.

“Are you kidding me?” you spoke up after finally catching your breath. “You did so well baby.” You propped yourself up and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your own juices on his tongue. Your hands went to his pants in the meantime, working on undoing his belt. “If you’d just… Help me out with those…” You smiled against his lips. “I could return the favor.”

He wasted no time in taking off his pants, kicking them off the bed until he was left in just his boxers. He kneeled on the mattress, his hard-on straining against the fabric of his underwear. You leaned forward onto your elbows, and he swore just the sight of you like that would have finished him off.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his bulge through the fabric, and you noticed a twitch from his cock in return. “Been wanting to know what you taste like for months…” You mumbled, hooking your fingers over the waistband of his underwear to free his throbbing cock. The tip was already dripping with pre-cum, proof of just how worked up he got from eating you out earlier.

“Just relax, ‘kay?” You looked up at him and offered a sultry smile, to which he nodded. You reached out and with a gentle grip, pumped his length a few times. He bit his lip, suppressing a groan. God your hand felt so much better than his…

You leaned in and licked across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum on your tongue and savoring it. “Such a pretty cock too…” You licked up the length of him and he hissed through his teeth, hand landing gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, not pulling, just wanting to touch you.

He whined out your name when you suckled on the tip, looking down at you with desperate and needy eyes. “Fuck… T-That feels… So fucking good oh my god…” His hand moves over to your jaw, so you’re looking up at him now, and the eye contact doesn’t break, not even once.

His breathing picks up when you start to bob your head, but he stops you before you go deeper, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit, sorry, was that too far?” You look at him with a worried expression.

“No, no, not at all, it’s just… I wanna last longer.” He looked a bit embarrassed, and you felt a sense of pride of almost making him cum just from giving him head for a bit.

“That’s okay,” You got up to your knees and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m starting to get impatient anyways,” His breath hitched when you traced your fingers over his length again. “Need you inside me…”

You gave him a slight push so he sat down on the bed as you leaned over to grab a condom from the pocket of your discarded shorts. You rolled it over his cock, a snug fit, as expected, and your eyes went back to his face. He watched your pussy hover over his length, mentally preparing himself. If you going down on him felt that incredible, then this was about to be an out of body experience.

You put one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, and reached one hand under to run his tip between your folds, lubing him up with your juices. “You ready?”

He nodded, hands coming up to gently rest on your hips. With that, you sank down onto his cock, slowly but steadily taking him inch by inch. Both of you moaned in unison at the joining of your bodies, neither of you imagining it would feel quite like this. You, surprised by the stretch he gave your cunt, him, surprised by your warmth and tightness.

“Fuck…” You sighed out, before you fully took his length, skin meeting skin with an audible clap. “So... Deep...” You put both of your hands on his chest, leaning forward a little. “Feels good, huh? You fit inside me so perfectly...”

“Shit...” He squeezes your hips harder, not enough to bruise, at least not yet. “So tight...” Ethan moves his hips up a little and you moan at the movement, the head of his cock grazing a very special spot inside you.

“F-Fuck, Ethan, hold on... J-Just...” You raised your hips, almost pulling him out completely.

“Let me...” You lowered again, ass meeting his hips. “Take care of you...” You started to establish a steady rhythm, Ethan watching your body move in complete fascination. You were gorgeous, tits bouncing, making the prettiest noises. Any guy would kill to have you on him like that, and he was no exception.

Your thighs started burning a little after a while, and he could tell as your movements got less intense. But you felt so good, every single change in motion sent jolts of pleasure through his body, his cock twitching whenever you would moan out his name.

He decided to keep chasing this high and take the reigns, putting a hand on your lower back and getting up, laying you down on the mattress as he pulled out.

“E-Ethan! What are you-- o-oh my god--” Your sentence got cut off by him sliding back inside you, his arms resting besides your body. You didn’t expect this more... Initiative-taking side of him, but it was welcome either way. You hooked your legs around his hips to pull him in closer, arms resting over his shoulders.

He quickly began thrusting, hips snapping forward, the room filled with the almost pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. He looked at you, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, mouth slightly agape. You pulled him in by his shoulders to capture his lips, moaning into his mouth as he picked up the pace.

“Fuck... ‘M close... So close...” He spoke through heavy pants, head now buried into your neck.

“Me too baby, me too, holy shit don’t stop... D-Don’t stop!” You felt the hot coil in your stomach get to a breaking point, the bed rocking slightly with Ethan’s movements as you started repeating his name between your moans.

Ethan’s hips pushed into you one last time, cock twitching as he came, filling the condom nearly to its brim. He groaned your name into your neck, breath hot against your love bite covered skin.

You followed right after, legs clamping down on him, your pussy clenching onto his cock and milking every last drop out of him. Your thighs trembled as you panted, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm with a few last sloppy thrusts.

His body collapsed on top of you, the weight almost comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his head. He moved his head to kiss you lazily, and you chuckled at how adorable he was being. He pressed a few kisses to your lips, eyes fluttering open soon after.

“Thank you...” He smiled sleepily, still coming down from the amazing high he’d experienced just then. “That was... Amazing...”

“Could say the same to you...” You smiled back, basking in the sweet after sex euphoria while you could. You whined slightly when he finally pulled out, suddenly feeling a bit empty.

Ethan disposed of the condom while you went to his bathroom to pee really quick. He sat back down on the bed and looked at his phone, seeing multiple messages from his roommate.

[chadmeister]: jesus christ

[chadmeister]: are u guys almost done

[chadmeister]: i’ve been here for like 20 minutes now you know

[chadmeister]: pretty sure the entire floor heard u two

[chadmeister]: at least u def won’t die a virgin now MY MANNN

tag list <3

@kometqh

#aster writes scream #ethanmath #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry writing #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fic #ethan landry fan fic #scream 2023 #scream VI #scream 6 #scream 6 fic #ethan landry scream 6 #ethan landry scream #ethan kirsch

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familyvideostevie · 2 months

Text

it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked.

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed.

You’ve only been open for two hours.

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns.

Your coffee shop.

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it.

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works.

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure.

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand.

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him.

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired.

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter.

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember.

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint.

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush.

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks.

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on.

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize.

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question.

You laugh. Joel looks pleased.

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders.

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot.

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee.

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him?

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

Joel stops by again.

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron.

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting.

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying.

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning. When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped.

“I’m honored,” he says.

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window.

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash.

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask.

He smirks. “Miss me?”

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy.

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck.

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead.

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy.

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise.

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one.

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw.

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear.

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him.

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone.

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place.

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says.

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day.

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags.

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is.

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.”

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles.

They both wave at you as they drive away.

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted.

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb.

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing.

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work.

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one.

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus.

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked.

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering.

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you.

And you still barely know him. But you want to.

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime?

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back.

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back.

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.”

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says.

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually.

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?”

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.”

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting.

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says.

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables.

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate.

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe.

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel.

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,�� he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light.

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff

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heartsfourdazai · 3 months

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Hey love, hope your all right. So Hoe about dazai with an s/o who always acts cheery and all childish like him in order to hide their immense trauma. So whenever someone scolds Them bit too loud reader flinches but again brushes it off?? ❤️

SRRY IS THIS TOO LIKE ANGSTY I RLLY AM CRAVING FOR HURT TO COMFORT RN----

You don't have to do it BTW ^^

"it's okay... to not feel happy all the time."

taglist : @justcallmesakira @riiwrites @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie

warnings : angst to comfort, lowercase writing, cursing, mention of past abuse, evil exes(heheh scott pilgrim), kunikida is SOOOO out of character holy shiiitttt (╥﹏╥) not proofread, sorry!!

HAII BABEEEE!!! consider your cravings feed!! i'm actually like this irl omg is that why i'm so excited to write this???? hope you enjoy

i love dazai so much :( my back hurts from slouchinggg i'll have back problems by the time i'm fricking twenty!!!!

osamu dazai x gn reader

dazai

HEADCANONS ₊˚ෆ

you are so cute.

almost everyday is a new adventure for him when he's with you.

he's the first thing you see in the morning.

he opens his eyes and your all in his face like; "hi, sisters!!" and he literally shrieks, but don't tell anybody.

you start tickle fights with him all the time when you seem to be in an upset mood or just want to hear him laugh, but can you ever win?

he will play along with you because too be honest; he is just as childish as you are from time to time. ESPECIALLY when he's with you!!

you grab his arm a lot and jump up and down when something really gets you excited.

once, kunikida agreed to use his card to buy you some ice cream at the fair and you grabbed onto dazai's arm and almost slapped him in the face with his own hand.

he's never really understood why you get so like that over something so childish.

be glad it's not fyodor; SHEESH.

until, one evening.

you screwed up on a mission with atsushi; too which caused kunikida to throw his anger out on you. all the two of you were ordered to do, was to steal the documents you were ordered to retrieve in order to take down this small organization of scary gifted (not the port guys; •⤙•)

atsushi had to save you from a sudden attack, injuring him in the process, having no other choice but to retreat.

yosano treated him up right away.

atsushi noticed the way your arms would flinch up to your face each time kunikida would raise his voice, but honestly kunikida was just ranting about how stupid it was for you to get distracted over such a childish thing like a stray kitten.

he gave kunikida a look, saying to calm down and just go rage somewhere else without having you in the room.

after that you mentioned none of this to dazai; however atsushi thought telling him the way you reacted would be the right thing to do as both your friends.

SCENARIO ₊˚ෆ

"HOW can you be so careless, y/n?!"

it was almost like you felt a knife stab through your rib.

over and over for the past couple minutes kunikida has been going off about you getting distracted on the mission you and your weretiger friend, atsushi nakajima, were assigned on.

"i thought you would be perfect for this job because of how focused you were on all our other missions. WHAT HAPPENED?"

you gulped on your spit, your arms shalking from the once again booming voice come from kunikida.

it was a simple mistake-

"SIMPLE??"

atsushi side eyed you to see how you were holding as he was just awkwardly standing beside you as kunikida continued to just shout at you.

he would noticed your lips tremble ever so slightly, you head held down low as your fingers played with the fabric of your pants as you plucked up the courage to finally speak; "i'm sorry, kunikida. i didn't mean to screw up-"

"we'll, you wouldn't have to be sorry if you had just DONE YOUR JOB!"

your eyes were fixated on the floor still as you took in a deep breath, "jesus, i knew you were childish, but y/n what the fuck!?"

he swore.

atushsi was also getting a bit uncomfortable at kunikida's screaming session.

"atsushi got hurt on this mission, y/n, because you!"

without another word, you ran past atsushi who reached out t grab you back, however kunikida told him to let you go as he sat at his desk, removing his glasses, rubbing the bridge is nose.

with a frown he watched as you ran, looking at the carpeted floor to notice some tear stains following the exit.

you ran.

and ran, and ran, and ran.

into on coming traffic, past strangers who complained when you accidently bumped into them, and to yours and dazai's apartment.

there you were now. standing in the lobby of the apartment, the security guard awkwardly looking at you as you entered the elevator that has opened after a couple of seconds of waiting.

you used the mirror to look at yourself in as you quickly tried to wipe the tears away from your face, and maybe any makeup you may have had on? does it matter, it all melted away anyways!

your floor arrived, and the ding from the elevator dinged as you exit it and slowly walk toward the door of your home.

you fumbled for your keys that were in your pocket, even after all that running and bumping you did to get here, hands shaking with fear.

kunikida's voice echoed through your head; "are you really that childish? he never seemed to care...why does he have to shout?? there's no need for it, no? and even atsushi was there, double the embarrassment!!"

"'donna!?"

dazai's voice rang through your head as you looked up at him at the door step. oh, right, you unlocked the door but have yet to open it, causing osamu to do it for you.

"i thought you were at work, your shift doesn't end till..oh, well you still have 35 minutes?"

you pushed the thoughts in your head in the back of your mind, and gave him the biggest smile you could muster and hugged him, giggling and spinning around until you reached inside.

"don't worry, i just felt like coming home early to see my handsome and amazing boyfriend, who promised me ice cream waffles when i did get home!"

dazai chuckled, grabbing you by the waist and using his foot to close the door, managing to keep you in the air with one hand as he quickly used the other one to lock the door behind the two of you.

"well, i can tell someone's been excited all day?" you giggled, although your throat hurts from crying so much on the way here, dazai hadn't had seem to notice.

or so you think.

he placed you on the couch, gently kissing your lips before slowly pulling away. your eyes were still closed as he did and a smile on your face.

"feel free to choose whatever you like, my dear~" he taps the remote for the tv on your head and hands it to you; "well thank you kindly, my...man?"

he smiled at your cute comeback, causing you both to giggle as he walked to the kitchen.

you could hear him to rattle around with the toaster and opening and closing of fridges and freezers, probably for the ice cream.

when he was out of sight, you checked to feel anymore tears on your eyes and sniffled softly, not knowing dazai had already figured everything out.

"so, how was my sweethearts day, today? make any new friends?"

you chuckled, knowing he meant about the stray kittens you always seem to run to.

"it was alright, what about yours?" you tried to change the focus onto him, but he was smarter then that.

"mm, boring without my angel. day-off's are so sad without you," you heard the sound of the waffle popping out of the toaster, "didn't you have that mission today with atsushi? tell me, how did that go?

he expected the sudden silence that had filled the room. he scooped vanilla ice-cream into a small bowl for you; and only you, as he hummed.

"'donna, don't go quiet now. talk to me..."

you felt the tears roll back again. it was that voice that made you all emotional again. it was so soft and gentle, almost as if he's whispering into your when he's on the opposite of the room.

you took a shaky deep breath in as you stopped clicking the buttons on the remote, you stared at it, your hands shaking once again as you tried to control your crying.

dazai had a blank face was he added whip cream to top of the dish, and finally emerged from the kitchen...his eyes immediately on your figure which was seated on the couch, right where he left you, however your cute and childish personality wasn't.

he slowly walked over to you, his eyes drifting away from you to place the bowl on the table in front of you. you looked down to take a look at the dish; it was a waffle and ice cream scooped into it, like it's own bowl, and whip cream on the sides to give it the mountain shape, "you can do more then stare at it, ya'know?" he smiled, sitting beside you suddenly and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

you felt yourself suddenly start crying; to which he pouts at; "it was first mission, darling, there will always be more-"

"IT'S NOT ABOUT ME FAILING IT!"

he looked at you like wide eyes and nod; "something more?"

you sighed loudly and hugged yourself, "it's just-" you kept stuttering due to your lack of breath from your sobbing,

"take your time, it's alright." he gently scratches your scalp to sooth you.

"kunikida...gohot so mahad...he...he yelled, he swore at him, he got close to my face...ahand the..thehe thoughts..ihi..ihi could only thihink abouhut my ex...whoho would do the sahame when i screhw something uhup.."

although you kept sniffling and breathing hard through, dazai understood each and every word.

his hands moved to rub the back of your neck, as his other held your hand tightly as you cuddled into him, your tears staining his dress shirt.

"ihi...just got schahared...ihi just whanted to...to have you...buhut i didn't want to bohother you with my prohoblems.."

dazai couldn't believe was he was hearing.

you, giving him problems about your mental health? what are you, MAD?? no, just insecure. which he understood completely.

"may i?" he asks, taking your cheeks in his one palm, making you look at him. not knowing what you agreeing to, he suddenly pulls you in for a tender, soft kiss.

you almost forgot what his kisses felt like, all the memories of your ex made you almost forget you have found somebody new, who will never, ever, want to hurt you without having any sense of what he's talking about.

moments later, he pulled away, placing his forehead to yours's as tears spilled from your eyes; however these were the tears that brought joy and happiness to your relationship.

he was never good with the words of comfort, however this is the reason why he is learning to be better, for you.

"there are bad, bad people in this world, and sometimes they change, some don't. i would know, but that doesn't mean everyone has such an evil heart. like you.." he chuckled, poking your chest, "you have such a pure heart, only the kindest of souls could ever have a chance to ever get close to it and open up to it. kunikida is just a grumpy man, when things don't go as planned he just goes.."

dazai circled his finger by his temple, causing that adorable smile to appear on your face.

"oh, there's that smiiile~" he laughed as he suddenly dig his long fingers into your soft sides, causing you to squeal and laugh immediately, "theres that smile, yeaah, awh~ your so cute, i could just eat you up-"

"DAHAZAI!"

you screeched when he nibbles on your neck, now tickling your upper ribs as well.

all those nasty thoughts that were in the back of your mind, dazai has a way of taking them and tossing them out the window and making sure you go to sleep with that cute smile on your face every night.

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gorgeouslypink · 9 months

Text

The Illusion of Method (My AP "Guide")

Hey guys! I'm so sorry that I've been behind on finishing up my masterlist but I've been really busy. I was having a conversation with my friend @junfairykyu and I remembered this post and she said it really helped her and urged me to share it with you guys too! This post is to help people AP (astral project) but the same concepts apply for the void. I hope this helps everyone.

original link: here

Hello there,

In this post I want to share an epiphany I had a few months ago regarding astral projection which changed my approach to it completely. Once I understood what I am about to explain, the amount of OBEs I had completely skyrocketed, to the point I can astral project on demand. I later found I could apply the same rule to lucid dreaming, and I started to enjoy countless conscious dreams. So this is the story of how I got to the "core aspect" of astral projection, the key to induce it effortlessly on demand. I will start by explaining the conditions whereby I came to this "truth" or "top method", and then I will develop it a bit more to ensure that its understandable. I I hope you guys enjoy the post and benefit from it. That being said, let's start!

I have been having OBEs for a few years now. A few years in which I tried many astral projection techniques, and while some of them seemed to work better than others, I always had one single desire that obsessed me to the core: I wanted to understand what was the root technique, i.e. that background cause, shared by all fruitful OBE strategies, that actually separated consciousness from the body. You know, the skeleton of all techniques. It was the deepest of my fixations, and I was compelled to find out the answer to that, I knew there was a core method, it was undeniable: if many different techniques lead to the same results, then there was for sure some hidden and shared dynamic that, if emulated over and over again, it would always produce Out of body experiences.

But it was really hard at first to understand what this hidden method was, because I was conditioned by my own results. What do I mean by this? Well, if only one technique worked for me, then it would be easy to assume "oh, that's the true and only method". But I had successful results with a wide variety of techniques, so different from each other: from tactile visualization, up to affirmations and pure desire, the ear ringing technique (using the ear buzzing sound to project) , the WBTB and many others. The challenge was in finding the single thing that united such different techniques. It seemed almost impossible!

You see, at first I thought imagination was a core aspect, but I rapidly discarded that, because many techniques dispensed with imagination. So then, imagination wasn't necessary. I kept discarding things just like that, trying to reach the substratum. I eventually thought it was pure intention, pure desire. This made sense to some extent, because all techniques required you to think actively about projection, whether you do this by imagining you project, or state it via affirmations, or whatever. It seemed like I succeeded with stripping away everything unnecessary. But then I had an spontaneous projection, which messed it all up. Not that it was the first spontaneous OBE in my life. In fact, I had a few of those during my career as an astral traveller. I was just ignoring them. Pretending that they were not there. Right when i thought astral projection had to do with a burning desire or intention, I realized that some OBEs dispensed with intention completely.

I was so obsessed with finding the key to astral projection in those OBEs I induced myself, that I was screening out those that happened involuntarily. I don't know why, but I guess it made more sense to find the how-to in the techniques rather than in...and then my mind went silent. I reached something important: a point of no-return. I realized something embarrassing: I had the answer in front of my eyes, but I kept pretending there was a hidden solution. But via spontaneous projections, the message was clear: it is not that those "spontaneous" projections weren't induced by me. NONE of my projections were induced by me! Its almost as if my unconscious was trying to tell me, via spontaneous projections, something like; "hey! its me who does it, not you".

At that point I understood the following: there is no method. We can't induce out-of-body experiences, nor lucid awareness in a dream. We don't really know how it is that the projection of consciousness occurs, or how lucidity pops up. We just get to experience it under certain conditions. All we do, really, is asking for projections to occur, while meeting the most optimal conditions for them to occur. That's the reason why spontaneous projections are kinda unconfortable for many and we try to screen them out, because they are trying to tell us about the illusion of method, and we as humans need to cling on a certain "how to", believing we are responsible for phenomena to occur. But we aren't. It is "something else" (the unconscious, the higher self, or whatever you want to call it) who kicks you out of your body, or triggers lucidity while dreaming. And when it occurs naturally, we try to understand how we did it, instead of realizing it isn't something we did, and thus opening ourselves to that same gift.

When I understood that, I began to do the following (the "no-method" method), and it ALWAYS works: I just lie down in the morning (to ensure that I don't fall asleep), close my eyes and simply ask this "unconscious" or whatever it is, to induce an OBE for me. And then I evoke this feeling of TRUST. I trust him, I trust that it will do the rest for me, because I understand that every time my consciousness escapes my body, it is this kind of higher consciousness or being who does it, not me. And this feeling of trust is the way to get rid of responsibility; in giving away this need for control and responsibility for the experience to occur, you also get rid of anxiety, fear and other emotions that boycott the outcome. So then, i just allow myself to drift with that feeling of peace, KNOWING that it will happen and I don't have to worry about it. Every time I do this, I get an amazing out of body experience. I just ask "the universe" to induce an OBE, and allow it to do its job. This same "method" (now you see why I refer to it as the illusion of method: you really don't do a thing) also applies to lucid dreaming: I just allow my higher self or unconscious mind or whatever to trigger lucid awareness for me, and go to sleep happily, knowing that it will happen.

To sum up, the answer is not in the techniques. All techniques are rituals we create to convince ourselves that we are the architects of the out of body experience, but we aren't. By acknowledging the one who DOES induce these kind of experiences, we get ourselves out of its way, we allow it to do its job and our emotions and feeling of responsibility no longer boycott the results. It is quite weird, even ironic to some extent, but it is also a relief in some way. You realize that you were never doing it wrong, because you can't do it. None of us have the supernatural power to separate consciousnesses from their bodies, its absurd. That being said, allow yourself to experience the OBE state, trusting your inner mind, knowing it will do this for you.

Exempt yourself from this responsibility and enjoy!

UPDATE: If you enjoyed the approach given in this post or found it useful, I am excited to announce that I just released an AP book on Amazon called "The Illusion of Method", which is an in-depth expansion of this guide: https://www.reddit.com/r/AstralProjection/comments/pc3ipt/my_ap_book_the_illusion_of_method_is_available_on/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

#void state

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leeknow-thoughts · 4 months

Text

GAG GIFTS!

TW : PISS!, implied chubby!reader, roommates to hookup?, slight crying, DOM!JISUNG??!!?, fem!reader, sub!reader, clit play, clit spanking (once), use of aphrodisiacs, cunnilingus, cowgirl, p in v, creampie, slight oral fixation if you squint, fingering, porn, orgasm denial, edging, i think that's all

a/n : this is the FILTHIEST thing i've ever written just fyi!

You sat, huddled in the circle of your closest friends. You tore open the gift in front of you. Aphrodisiac chocolates, great, you glare at your friend Minho, who shoots you a wink.

As if you need anymore of a reminder of how single you are. "I doubt they even work," you mumble to yourself.

The party moved on into the night, people started to leave and now it was just you and your roommate Jisung left cleaning up the mess. You decided to take some of the chocolate, not thinking it would work, and if it did you could always get yourself off and then go to sleep. "Ooh chocolate!" you turn around from washing the dishes, just in time to see Han take a bite of it.

"Oh fuck! Spit that out!" you beg him.

He looks at you with confusion written all on his face, "what? Is there something wrong with them? Are they laced?"

"No!" you pause, "they're a gag gift from Minho, they're supposed to y'know get you in the mood?"

His face falls, "oh my gosh I am so sorry," he apologizes profusely.

"It'll be fine! I bet they don't even work!" you sigh.

"And if they do?" Jisung asks.

You shrug, "I guess we are horny."

You go back to washing the dishes until they're all done. When you complete them, you decided you'd watch a movie.

"Why don't we play a game," Jisung proposes out of no where.

"What kind of game?" you ask.

He grins, "how about we watch an adult film, like a porno and whoever has to excuse themselves first loses. Loser has to treat the winner to a fancy dinner."

You scoff, "fine, you're on."

Jisung picks out the movie, you don't really care too much about it, you care more about beating Han. "You know the rules, first to excuse themselves loses," he clarifies before he starts the movie.

You nod, and the movie starts. It starts off strong two guys fucking a girl, she has one of their cocks in her mouth the other in her pussy. "I thought this was supposed to be hard?" you smirk.

Jisung spreads himself out, watching the scene unfold in front of him on the screen. Fuck, he looks good like that. He hadn't shaved in the past few days, his 5 o'clock shadow visible. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and his favorite baggy shirt. His dirty blonde hair was pushed back out of his face. His clear framed glasses sat on his nose. Fuck, he looked so delicious.

What the fuck.

Your roommate, Jisung, hot? Maybe you had gone crazy. Sure he was conventionally attractive, but really? Jisung?

You snap out of your trance, deciding to focus on the screen in front of you. Now the girl sat pliantly on a man's face. His 5 o'clock shadow was visible underneath her cunt. You wonder if Jisung's scruff would scratch against your inner thighs like the guy on screen did to the girls.

"You good there babe?" Jisung teases you.

"Fine," you smile.

The girl on the screen was quite a bit smaller than you, barely any fat on her stomach, you wondered if your tummy would jiggle a bit if Jisung were fucking you from behind. Or if he would use your wide hips as leverage. You look at Jisung again, eyes trailing down to his pants. Your eyes made contact with the obvious tent. "Ji, you're hard, I won," you smile.

"The rule was first to excuse themself, not the first to get hard, besides you can't get hard," he reminds you.

A moment of silence passes between the both of you, "so then it wouldn't be wrong if I just started masterbating right here? Because I didn't excuse myself?" you question him.

His eyes go wide, "if that's what you want, then sure," he grins.

You wait for a moment before deciding you'd actually do it. But the wetness between your legs was becoming uncomfortable. You had to do something about it. Your pants were discarded somewhere on the floor, you spread your legs.

Your panties were absolutely soaked with your slick, "c'mere," Jisung tells you.

You don't know why you listen, but you do, you move over to his lap. He spreads your legs open on his lap, the cool air of the room hitting your inner thighs. "Hold your legs back hmm," he coos, "do that for me pretty, hold your legs open jus' for me."

You hold your legs open, staring at the TV in front of you, the girl's pussy was being eaten out by one of the guys while the other restrained her. You didn't even realize where Jisung's hands had went until you felt them playing with your clit over your silk panties.

"Atta girl," he praises as your body writhes against his own, "stay still for me baby."

When you refuse to stay still, a hard slap falls onto your pussy, "if you want me to touch you, you're gonna stay still m'kay," he whispers in your ear before leaving a love bite against your neck, "each time you move, I'll stop for ten seconds."

He moves his hands away from your pussy, and all you can do is watch the girl on TV get ravished by the two guys. Such a long ten seconds. You can feel every heartbeat, every nerve in your body on fire.

His hands resume their movements, this time he does it under your panties. "Oh darling you're so wet hmm," he coos, "such a perfect cunt, all wet and needy."

You watch the girl on the screen, as one of the guys fucks his cum back into her with his tongue. "You think you'd want me to do that? Mhm? Finger fuck my cum back into you?," he pauses, "or would you rather me feed it back to you off my fingers?"

His fingers drew small circles on your clit as his kissed down your neck. "Hmm? Too dumb to speak? It's okay baby, I'll just do both," he whispers in your left ear.

His movements on your clit became more intense, you dangled on the edge of your orgasm and you couldn't help but move. "Tsk tsk tsk, I told you to stay still didn't I?" he murmurs as he removes his hands.

You cry out, tears beginning to stream down your face, "needa cum please Ji!" you whine and pleade.

You can hear his smile through his voice, "yeah? My little one needs to cum?" he mocks you.

Salty tears stream down your face as he finally resumes his movements on your clit, "fuck- need- cum-." you babble.

"That's it, cum," he commands.

And you did, your back arching and thighs trembling against him. Whining and babbling like a baby against him as you move against his hand. "Atta girl," he praises, rubbing you through your orgasm.

"Open," he taps your mouth, inserting the fingers he was touching you with inside, "suck."

You suck on his fingers, sucking your own slick from them. "There you go, good job," he praises.

But unlike normally, the ache between your legs didn't go away. It got bigger instead. The yearning for more got bigger. "Again!" you beg him.

You flip over so you are now straddling his waist. "Again?" he smiles into a kiss.

You pull apart and nod your head desperately, "needa cum again," you whine.

You grind your hips against his own desperate for friction. "Cum on my cock?" he asks.

You nod, pushing his pants down just enough so that his cock is free. And fuck his cock was pretty. Thick with a dark tan tip and veins running down the sides and nicely trimmed pubes. It looked absolutely delicious. Maybe after this he'd give you a treat and make you suck him off.

You pushed your panties to the side just enough to let his cock line up at your soaking entrance. You were so wet, you doubted that you even needed time to adjust. You sank your hips down, taking his whole cock all at once. "Such a perfect pussy," he grins.

He puts his hands behind his head and leans back against the couch, a smug grin plastered on his pretty face, "you wanna cum, work for it."

You whine but oblige, bouncing up and down on his cock. Resting your hands on his chest for more support. "That's it," he hisses, eyes rolling to the back of his head, "bounce just like that sweetheart."

You keep moving your hips, desperately trying to reach your high. "Pull your sweater up baby, let me see those pretty tits," he says before helping you lift your sweater above your head.

He unclasps your bra for you and throws it somewhere in the living room. His hands knead your tits, rolling your nipples with his fingers.

You snake one of your hands down to rub on your clit. The overstimulation helping bring you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm.

All of a sudden you have to pee. Like you need to pee. "Ji- Ji stop! I have to pee!" you warn him.

A devilish smile crosses his face, "hold it for me baby."

Your eyes snap wide open as you look at him. But they soon get closed whenever Jisung starts thrusting up into you. "Ji! I'm serious I'm gonna pee!" you squeal.

"Go ahead," he smirks, looking up at you with the most mischievous eyes.

He keeps fucking up into you to the point where you can't hold it anymore. You feel yourself peeing before you can stop yourself. The feeling of relief washes over you as you watch the golden liquid spray all over Jisung's lap and seep down into the couch. You find yourself cumming, clenching around his cock.

You felt so dirty. "Such a good girl," Jisung praises you, "gonna cum inside this pretty pussy."

And he does. You feel his cum seeping into your swollen pussy. He stills inside you, letting his load fill you to the brim.

But he wasn't done, he flipped you onto all fours. Eating your cunt from behind. "Give me one more," he coos.

"Can't!" you whine.

"Yes you fucking can," he says before kissing your swollen clit.

You feel his fingers prod at your entrance before they push in while his tongue works its magic on your abused clit. The scruff of his 5 o'clock shadow scratches against your inner thighs. His fingers pump in and out of your hole, curling to hit that spongy spot inside your pussy.

The overstimulation stings, but it somehow brings you even closer to the edge of another orgasm. You have little time to warn him before you cum all over his tongue. "So good for me," he praises.

He removes his fingers from your pussy before sticking those same fingers back in your mouth, letting you suck them completely dry.

You really would need to thank Minho for those chocolates in the morning.

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lyssasdrafts · 3 months

Text

— AFTERGLOW (azriel x reader)

006: “ this ultraviolet morning light. ”

masterlist previous next

‼️‼️ written portion below the cut ‼️‼️

the coffee shop had suddenly looked way more inviting than the last time you’d been there. had they left the blinds open? it seemed way brighter than last time. or maybe it was just at the absence of eris.

more importantly, you see your childhood friend sitting quietly at a table in the corner, two takeaway coffees in her hand. feyre smiles when she sees you and motions for you to sit down with her.

“y/n! it’s been so long,” her voice is a relief to you and you’re grateful she doesn’t treat you any differently after seeing the dark circles under your eyes or how your demeanor changed.

you two make small talk about your families, personal lives, and school; it was nice seeing her again. while you weren’t as close with feyre as you were with her sisters, she had always been that one friend you could randomly meet up again and pick up where you left off. eventually, she cuts to it, “i heard about what happened with eris, are you alright?”

the question appalls you for a bit. you stare at spot on the wall behind her for a few moments before snapping out of it. “yeah… i’m alright,” you manage to push your lips into an insincere smile. feyre immediately doesn’t fall for it, taking your hand into hers from across the table.

“y/n, you and nesta are really alike,” she laughs. “all you guys want to do is hide your feelings from everyone. it’s okay to feel bad and it’s okay to be upset about it. you were there for me during that situation with my ex,” your face scrunches when you hear his name. “you even let me stay over until i figured things out. you’re okay with everyone depending on you, at least let some of us return it.”

“i…” your throat feels dry before you begin. “i just feel so embarrassed over what happened with eris. i know he was in the wrong but i feel so… stupid for believing it. i think i was caught up in this fantasy of still having a chance with my childhood crush… and he took advantage of that.”

feyre nods, “don’t blame yourself too much for it y/n. he’s been friends with us for so long now and our families have been through so much with each other. it must’ve felt like it had to work out with him or those years of friendship would’ve been ruined.”

you nod before making some joke about how delusional you were before both of you start laughing. you catch up for a few more minutes before feyre sighs happily, “this has been really fun y/n, i’m glad you’re feeling better. we should really come here more often, actually, another one of my friends started working here too.”

“same here,” you start, “actually, i think there might be someone else—”

you’re distracted by feyre waving at someone behind you. you see that same tall figure from last time coming closer to you. he stands at your table, fixating his gaze on you and quirking an eyebrow.

“azriel?” you look up at him from your seat.

“wait,” feyre blinks. “you two know each other?”

“it’s a long story,” you chuckle. feyre checks the time on her phone and pushes herself up.

“holy shit,” she grabs her bag, “i’m gonna be late for my next lecture. sorry to cut you off, y/n. it was great seeing you,” she hugs you and bids azriel goodbye before walking away hurriedly.

azriel slides into her seat. “so what now, are you stalking me?”

you cross your arms and stare right at him, “definitely not.”

“you should’ve told her i was your boyfriend too,” he laughs. “just like last time.”

you turn your head away, “last time was an emergency.” your expression softens before you continue, “but i am sorry for dragging you into that situation. i panicked in the moment.”

“it’s alright, i completely understand. that’s why i stepped in. something about this eris guy… he doesn’t feel right,” azriel mutters. “why don’t we just actually start seeing each other if we’re going to pretend we are?”

you remember what nesta had told you about needing to move on and the conversation you just had with feyre. what could go wrong? “okay then,” you smile. “i think you have my number anyways.”

— NOTES

you, feyre, and lucien have always had your own friend group within your families but it definitely became a little strained when feyre left tamlin, who was lucien’s friend at the time (not anymore tho 👀)

you were there for feyre when she went through everything with tamlin and wasn’t even in contact with her sisters

azriel saw you there at his work and went 🤨🤨🤨

— TAGLIST

@ithan-holstroms-girl @strangelycami @fell-in-luvs @goldenmagnolias @glam-targaryen @acourtofdreamsandshadows @bloombb @mp-littlebit @gamarancianne @stqrgirlies-blog @peachcontour-blog @azriels-shawdowsinger taglist is open!! lmk if you want to be added

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suivyfx · 10 months

Text

So you heard everything?

Mirage x f!reader

you were a bit of a mechanic, and whenever noah’s car got wrecked you’d usually help him fix it up, until you find out it’s an..Alien car thing??

includes ✧ fluff, slight x Noah

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“Jeez, Noah. This car is a beauty for sure but maybe you shouldn’t get such an old car.” You rolled out from under the car with a wrench in your hand. “Haha..maybe I should do my research next time.”

You and Noah had known each other for around two years and were pretty close friends. He had recently bought a Porsche, silver with blue stripes down the middle. Of course you were happy for him, he even took you on joyrides! It’s just that you hadn’t expected him to be able to..afford it? Not saying that’s he’s poor but Porsches are mad expensive, you chose to mind your business though.

After you finish up, your phone starts to ring. “Sorry Noah, gotta take this.” Once you exit the garage, his gaze immediately fixates on the car. “Cmon! Can’t we just tell her already? You torture me every time I have to stay quiet during our joyrides!” Mirage whined. “I just don’t wanna scare her, Mirage. I mean your a giant machine!” Hearing this, Mirage gasped. “Giant Machine?! We’ve been through thick and thin and that’s what you call me? Besides, didn’t you try to beat me with a pipe when you first met me? Sure she’ll be freaked but someones there to reassure her this time, cough cough, you.” Even though they were currently communicating through the radio, you could still hear the sass in Mirages voice.

Noah thought about it, and he couldn’t deny that Mirage was right. Besides you would find out sooner or later anyway. “Fine, let’s wait for her to get back.” Hearing this, Mirage cheered. “Woohoo! I can’t wait!”

“I’m back, sorry that took a while.” You smiled as you came back in the garage. Noah looked a little timid so you asked him if he was alright. “Yeah, yeah I am. I just uh- need to show you something. Please don’t freak out too much..” Hearing him say this made you nervous. Noah barely acted like this, so he might be very serious. And ‘please don’t freak out?’ What the hell was this man about to show you?

As you were looking at Noah, you began to hear shifting noises from the Porsche. Once you looked over, you saw a machine guy. Wait wtf? “What the fuck..” Eyes widened, jaw almost on the floor..what were you looking at right now? You subconsciously began to back up. “Listen I know he looks like a bad guy but trust me, he means no harm!” “Bad guy?! What’s up what all these names you’ve been calling me man? Not cool dude, not cool.”

The both of them looked at you, who was still visibly shaken. In attempt to befriend you, Mirage walked up to you and kneeled to your level. “The names Mirage, I already know who you are.” He smiled. You were pretty scared at first, but after seeing his friendly attitude you loosened up a little. “Okay..yeah, I’m Y/n.” Mirage grinned and patted your head as he stood.

“See? That went great! You were worried about nothin’!” Mirage looked at Noah who had a relieved look on his face. “Wait a minute, if you’re the car does that mean..you heard, everything I said?” You asked, praying the answer was no. “Yup!” fuck. “Humans have the most interesting stories.” You glare at Noah, him just smiling looking in the other direction knowingly.

Before you could scold Noah, you begin to hear that same shifting noising. You look in amazement finally being able to see Mirages transformation. “Now that I can talk, what’d you say we go on a joyride? The three of us? You can sing your heart out just like you always do.” Noah walks up to passenger side and opens the door for you, gesturing you to get in. “M’lady?” He teased, knowing you were embarrassed. “I’m so gonna kill you for this, Noah.”

“I think I’m gonna vomit..what part of that was a ‘joyride’ to you?!” You say, wobbling out of the car. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, trust me.” Noah said, glaring at Mirage. “What can I say? I gotta go fast! Haha, get it? Cause it’s what Sonic says?” Mirage joked, resulting in no laughter “Anyways im going to get some food, want me to bring you back some, Y/n?” Noah asked heading towards the door. “Ah, sure.”

Once Noah left it was just you and Mirage. “Well well well, just the two of us sweetheart! Y’know I don’t think we got to properly get to know each other, so why don’t we talk a bit about ourselves, yeah?” Blushing a bit at the name, you agreed. “Sure, why not?”

About an hour past and you realize how much you enjoy talking to Mirage. He’s so enticing, nothing like the last men you’ve been with, literally. “You listenin?” Mirage asked, noticing your daze. “Oh, uhm, yes sorry, what did you say?” After a few seconds of silence, Mirage chuckled. “Ohh, I get it. You were so mesmerized by my dashing looks, huh? I knew you’d fall for me.” Your eyes widened, face heated. “What?! D-don’t get cocky..”

Mirage moved closer to you and lifted your chin with a single finger. “Cmon..just admit it. I have an affect on you.” His optics bored into your orbs. “…fuck it.” You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He was kinda surprised, but quickly reciprocated. Mirages lips were like nothing you’ve kissed before, so smooth yet metallic, nonetheless very pleasing.

After a few seconds you two pulled apart, an immediate smirk plastering his face. “I guess Love at first sight really is real, huh?” You smiled up at him and leaned closer. “I guess so, wanna prove it?” And with that you both locked lips once again, a new relationship emerging.

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i hate this. i might make a smut with mirage

#mirage x reader #rotb mirage #rotb x reader #noah diaz #noah diaz x reader

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starberry-cupcake · 11 days

Text

I've been reading, but didn't have time to sit down and do this, so you're getting a bit of a mess in this one, sorry about that!

I want to clarify, before starting, that if I ask questions to the void in these posts, or if I wonder very loudly about something, I'm not really looking for answers immediately nor am I doubting that things will be explained later, I promise I trust the process. If something's going to be explained, somewhere in the books, I'll get there eventually, I promise I will. You have probably noticed by now but, if you give me a hint, I'm gonna grab onto it for dear life, so better not give me anything at all. Just leave me here to die, I beg you.

previously, in harrowberry the ninth:

this happened

currently, chapters 17-19:

I'm gonna start by the end, actually

which maybe is fitting for this book

but I'll start by the end because I have a new theory and I feel this one in my bones

(pun intended)

I might be totally off but I'm gonna say it anyway because I'm excited about this one

so much so that you'll get no memes while I explain it

it's about G and P

yes, I know, I'm fixated with that, but hear me out

I think Lyctortus isn't actually called Ortus

I think his name is Gideon

let me explain

at the end of chapter 19 (I'll get there, but I need this off my chest, I really do) harrow asks mercygirl why ortus the first wants her dead

to which mercygirl distractedly answers "who?"

that's the last thing I read so far, but it got my wheels turning so fast I came running to write it down

I thought "wait, what if, just like ortus is replacing gideon in the gideon-less re-telling, the name is also a replacement?"

so I went to the character list and lyctortus's cavalier was called pyrrha

so what if they're G and P

Gideon and Pyrrha the Second

and what if the Gideon in the paper was this guy

so this is not a case of Ortus 1 and 2 but of Gideon 1 and 2

not!dulcinea told our gideon "you're very brave—a bit like another Gideon I used to know. But you're prettier in the eyes"

which is, all things considered, actually funny, because it's a reversal of what mercygirl was saying, that yandere twin and harrow aren't as pretty as their predecessors

I'm gonna risk looking like a fool later and calling this now because I really feel this one

again, let me clarify, I'm not asking you to tell me whether I'm right or wrong or anything at all, I'm just placing my bets with myself

and I know starting by the end isn't really the best way to go about a recap, but I think I'm on to something

MOVING BACK, to chapter 17

harrow starts looking into mercygirl for her new and probably not improved diary, because she knows less things now

augustine the saint of annoyance tells harrow that mercygirl and him are the oldest lyctors in the band and that it took generations for these space planet destroyers to assemble

emperor john silver tells harrow that his stupid nicknames that don't fit were meant to represent the cavaliers and not the necros

of course augustine's brother was patient, he had to put up with augustine

mercygirl is also a body expert

an anatomist, if you will

which will come in handy later/earlier (later in the reading order, earlier in the timeline order)

augustine says that he didn't bother learning that because the only use for it would be to kill lyctors

tbh it'd come in handy right now that I want to kill him, but I digress

here, harrow again mentions that ortus the first (also known as lyctortus, also known as allegedly gideon the first, also known as I'm super super sure of this you guys) wants her dead

CHAPTER 18

we're back on canaan house in the gideon-less version

these are the chapters I'm having the most fun with, which wasn't what I expected

I don't know why, I really like this whole re-written mystery thing

the slasher film vibes have doubled this time

I keep drawing parallels and enjoying my time with these old and new friends

and, talking about old and new friends, judith is dead

remember judith? remember how she died?

it wasn't like this

in this gideon-less version, instead of becoming besties with the sixth, harrow and ortus have become besties with the fifth

because 1) the fifth didn't die and 2) the fifth is in a polycule with ortus

with gideon there, they befriended the sixth because gideon saw camilla fight 5 seconds and was like "she's friend shaped :)"

so, the fifth and the ninth are taking care of judith's corpse

she was shot repeatedly with a carbine rifle

harrow says "it would have been like being set upon by a ghost out of time"

gonna put that in the 3d model

martita is outside and she's the only pseudo witness to this situation

the gideon-less version of the deaths so far is being handled like this

martita says to harrowbean "why am I here?"

she explains that they were doing the two door test thingy and, while she was in the other room, judith was shot

now, here's the thing

I thought the Sleeper that had been mentioned was the construct thing but no, it's not

it's a new thing

I'm picturing sorta this

it very well could be a person though

it's person shaped

huh

it's in a coffin where it sleeps unless it's woken up, but they don't know how it wakes up, because martita went to town kicking and punching the coffin after judith was obliterated and nothing happened

and what keeps it contained, snow white style, isn't plex glass, plex or glass

ortus proceeds to say a eulogy

martita says "Is this really how it happens?" like we've been hearing all this time

harrowbean tries to make her feel better by telling her that, at least judith died quickly

mmm...about that

martita says "No. That's not...Don't know why I thought...No."

martita doesn't know judith died slowly and painfully and wrong about everything btw, she died first, it memory serves

but still, savage

harrow regrets not telling ortus to take the pledge of silence and says "but only a very obedient idiot of a cavalier would have stuck to that"

she's your obedient idiot, though, harrow

so, the rundown is this:

the sleeper can move

the sleeper can pass necromantic wards

the sleeper shouldn't be waken

people don't know what wakes it

it has a rifle

the sleeper is lying on top of sword that's a two-hander

me, having breakfast while reading this

I didn't mention this but

harrow and abby say that judith was killed by a deadly shot and then was subsequently used for target practice and left like a colander without any reason for it

judith disrespected camilla, so

that's what you get, bitch

CHAPTER 19

we travel in time, but in the timeline of the emperor's bolthole

because WHY NOT, AT THIS POINT

we're keeping track anyway *picks back up the timeline I keep discarding and re-using*

this one is 10 months before the emperor johnny boy is ended, so this is before what we've been reading

we are told the following essential info:

harrow has written a letter for yandere twin in case of harrow's death that says: "Get what joy you can from my corpse, you devious bitch"

filed under potential resignation letter drafts

apparently a lyctor can live without food but not without water

so harrowcita is getting herself a sopita

and then lyctortus also known as I'm sure he's gideon the first stabs her

this tiny baby kitten with her sopita

man has no heart

no decency

no decorum

not his real name, according to me

mercygirl helps harrow with a lot of skill (those anatomy skills we talked about) but not much empathy

she tells alleged gideon who goes by ortus, when he says "I do things face-to-face" that "that is what got you into trouble nineteen years ago"

HELLO TIMELINE

nineteen years ago takes us back to the whole leader of the BOE going missing and gideon's mom drifting into space and the person sent with the eggs and all that

well, the eggs thing isn't directly related yet but I'm relating it

especially since there were lies involved and somebody sent to placate another somebody

DUDE CAN YOU IMAGINE

IF HE WAS INVOLVED WITH GIDEON'S MOM IN SOME WAY

AND OUR GIDEON IS NAMED AFTER THIS GIDEON????

LIKE ON PURPOSE????

HELLO?????????

AGAIN, NOBODY TELL ME, I'M ASKING AT THE VOID

YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE IMPULSE OF TELLING ME BUT DON'T DO IT

I'm making up telenovela theories about how this gideon could be involved into our gideon's mom business and our gideon being named after him

and gideon's superpowers of being hercules having something to do with all this

I need to stop before I say too much and then feel embarrassed at my theories

ALSO

gideon ortus wants harrow's sword

harrowbean doesn't want to give it to him

it is at this point when mercygirl says "who?" at harrow's question about "ortus", so we end how we begun, because today it's that kind of day

also, another day without her coming home

I may be late but boy do I have theories. And yeah, nobody tell me any spoilers, please. Let me make a fool of myself.

#luly reacts to tlt #harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #long post #gif cw

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songmingisthighs · 1 year

Text

Sweet Strawberry Gloss

February Filth Fest - 2; oral fixation

group : ateez

pairing : sugar daddy!seonghwa × reader

genre : smut

word count : 3.6k

warning : mdni, oral sex; blow job, slight humping, kind of voyeurism ?? (seonghwa having his dick sucked in an online meeting), idk what else ngl

a/n : second fff post !!! how am i doing so far ?? be honest

buy me coffee ?

"You're doing it again,"

You snapped out of your daze to be met with Seonghwa's teasing smirk. "I was not," you huffed, defending yourself against Seonghwa's accusation. Though, after thinking about it, you furrowed your eyebrows, "What was I doing anyways?" Seonghwa chuckled at you as he shook his head in disbelief at your utter adorableness. He moved away from his laptop for a bit to reach out to you on the left side of his position on the dining table, "You were sucking on your thumb again like a child," he scolded, taking your red thumb away from your lips.

It was embarrassing that he saw you like that and then having him call and treat you like a child. You pouted and slapped his arm out of retaliation, "Shut up I'm bored," you grumbled.

Seonghwa is a businessman, a successful one at that being a C-level executive at one of the biggest business firms in the country. He's charming and smart and so absurdly sexy. You love him and being with him, he just makes you feel so special and beautiful and precious and in return, you made him feel like he's worth more than just his money. You never complained during days like this one, having to just stay inside, ordering cheap, MSG-dunked food, while Seonghwa deal with whatever business he had to deal with you accompanying him. Truly, he couldn't ask for a better girlfriend. Well, it WAS only sugar baby but how could he leave room for the chance of another guy swooping you away? Not that you'd leave anyways.

One of the things you love about him was how much he knows you. He spent a good amount of time studying and understanding you. Every time you both spend together, every intimate time, he'd put all of his attention and focus on you. But that also means he can anticipate your actions and even understand what it means.

Seonghwa chuckled at your words and took a moment to part from his laptop, he let the hand you slapped to take your chin in his soft grip and have you gently look at him, "I'm sorry baby, you know I need to be on standby because the American clients will be up and about soon and I just have to make sure we land this deal," he pouted, showing you the time on his phone's screen that showed it was 9.47 pm in Korea which means it was near office hours in New York. You sighed, understanding where he came from but you just couldn't help but want to spend private time with him. So you took the hand that he used to caress your cheek in both of your hands as you started peppering kisses on the soft palm. "I know Hwa, I understand... I just... Well..." you paused, hesitating for a moment. Your hesitance only intrigued him, however, knowing full well that there was something you wanted to ask of him but you don't know if you should say it.

To urge you, Seonghwa tilted his head down and to the side slightly, seeking your gaze, "Well... What? Is there something you want, honey?" he asked, smiling gently as an encouragement. God, he has such a nice smile. It was the smile that made everyone swoon for him and yet it was the smile he reserved for you. Still hesitant, the pecks your lips were giving him turned to soft grazes. The glossed surface of your lips caressed the supple skin of Seonghwa's palm, making his jaw tense almost immediately.

"I don't know if I should say..." you muttered, eyelash fluttering to look at him from under it. Seonghwa had to brace himself by clenching his other hand, not wanting to get worked up too much before his client meeting. He let out a whispered shaky breath as he tried to maintain his eye contact with you and his smile, "You can tell me anything, baby. I will give you whatever it is you want," he ensured, just wanting to know what he can do to help you. And also because he had a feeling that he was going to like what you had to say.

With his encouragement, you took a deep breath and stood from your seat, surprising him when you plopped down onto his lap with your arms around his neck. As his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist securely, you nestled your face on his shoulder. Your breath hit the skin of his neck and was soon followed by your lips grazing around the area, the sudden feeling made him shudder slightly, delighting in the sensation. "I want you, Hwa... I've wanted to taste you for a while now," you confessed, gripping his crisp white shirt tightly in your fist, making him grip at the fabric of the shirt you were wearing with an even harder grip, "Please, I need to taste you now," you whined.

Now Seonghwa found himself in a bind. Between the clock on his laptop glaring at him, showing that his meeting will start any minute, and you who were begging for him, for his taste, he so obviously wanted to choose you. But he still had his responsibilities that he couldn't abandon. "Baby, I-I," he halted his words to let out a groan when he felt you nipping upwards, to his earlobe and then slowly left trails of kisses to the corner of his lips. "I..." His words died down when he felt your tongue swiping at his bottom lip, seeking permission to enter his mouth but all he could think of was the taste of strawberry lipgloss that he knew you knew he loved so much. "Please..." you muttered against his lips, clearly becoming more desperate after having even just a small taste of him. To make things worse, you had started to grind down on him, allowing him to feel your warm cunt riling his cock to harden. He shifted in his seat, not knowing whether it was from the discomfort of having his dick hardening or wanting to seek more pleasure from your cunt.

The reminder alarm going off from his phone snapped him from his pleasure haze, mind clearing up for a bit when you tensed up and detached your lips from his to look at the source of the sound. "Shit," he muttered, having had half the mind to coax you off of his lap so he could work. But as he looked at you, he saw your eyes staring back at him, seemingly more glistening than usual (but that could be his imagination) and to make his heart clench even more, you were pouting at him, your glossy lips seemingly inviting him for a taste. Park Seonghwa is a man of strong will, he was known as The Brick Wall in his industry, having known for never moving from the deal he wanted that forced his opponents to bend to his will instead. But even The Brick Wall knows he was no match for his girl's influence on him. When it comes to her, he's putty.

With a huff, Seonghwa pulled his chair back and ushered you to stand up, making you think that he was telling you to go for a split second. Your eyes widened when he began undoing his belt and pants. "I told you I'm gonna give you anything you want, baby," he smirked, letting you know that he was going to let you suck him off whilst he was doing his meeting. You immediately perked up, looking very excited as you waited for him to tell you what to do and how he wanted you. "Okay, get under the dining table," he instructed, having already taken the bottom half of his outfit off and kicking them to the side, near his chair. You, however, had your eyes transfixed on his hardening cock. It still looked quite soft as it hadn't had enough attention earlier but you know what it will look like once it's fully hard and you just couldn't help but only think of the fact that you want to have him in your mouth. "(y/n), baby," Seonghwa called out, causing you to shake yourself from the daze you were in before embarrassedly looking down to your feet when you realized his cocky stare, "Can you please get under?" he asked in a teasing tone. You simply nodded and got under where he wanted you to be.

Seonghwa soon pulled the chair back in position, leaving slight room for you to situate yourself. With his legs spread just enough to accommodate you, you immediately placed your hands on either of his thighs, leaning in to get ready to put him in your mouth. But before you could even get any closer, Seonghwa hissed and tapped his foot to get your attention on him. Displeased that he was preventing you from having his dick in your mouth, you let out a whine and frowned up at him. "I need to open the meeting first baby, I can't have you sucking my cock whilst talking, they'll know something's going on!" he explained through gritted teeth, eyes moving between you and the screen of his laptop to open the application where the online meeting will be held and making sure that the camera only captured the area from his chest up. Hearing him talk like that made your pussy clench with want. Despite desperately wanting him in your mouth and his cock just sitting idly by in front of you, bobbing along with Seonghwa's breathing. You know you couldn't so you defeatedly held back, leaning on Seonghwa's right thigh with your gaze on his cock as your mouth opted to suck on your thumb instead.

Once he was sure that you wouldn't try anything, Seonghwa opened his mic just as meeting attendees entered the meeting room. One by one, Seonghwa greeted them with a professional smile, not knowing that behind the camera, Seonghwa was naked from the waist down with his lover between his legs, lusting after the taste of his cock.

The meeting had barely started, everyone was still waiting for the others to come in as they prepared their point for the meeting. Seonghwa took this chance to mute his mic and covered his mouth with the papers in his hand to talk to you, "You holding up good there sweetie?" he teased, knowing full well that you were not doing good. You looked up at him with a glare, hating how easy it was for him to tease you like that. To tease you more, Seonghwa nudged the hand of the thumb you had between your lips, wordlessly telling you that you shouldn't suck on your finger. The nudge was had enough that your thumb fell out of your mouth much to your dismay. You scoffed and were about to say something when you heard Seonghwa's name called by someone from the meeting. Seonghwa gave you a warning glare before his whole demeanour changed into a professional one.

You loved watching Seonghwa in his professional mode; his demeanour, his words, his choice of clothing, everything exudes confidence in a minimalistic way, subdued but it was evident. There was a strong pull towards this side of Seonghwa, a pull that made you whimper and repositioned yourself so you were sitting on one of his legs. From the way Seonghwa's pointer finger twitched on his knee, you realized that he didn't expect you to do what you just did. You smirked to yourself as you began grinding onto his leg with your hands taking anchor on his chair, your lips peppering kisses onto the skin of his thighs. You caught Seonghwa's hands clenching as he felt you teasing him and he knew you were doing it intentionally to rile him up because you were just a brat like that. Seonghwa had no choice but to will himself to not react as best as he could no matter how much he wanted to get some stimulation as much as you were getting it from humping his leg. Poor man almost yelped when he felt your lips leave his skin only to put his thumb in your mouth, sucking gently with eyes closed, clearly enjoying yourself. His cock twitched as the thoughts of you sucking his cock appeared in his mind, how much you'd enjoy the feeling and taste of him.

So in the end, Seonghwa relented, he couldn't handle the teasing anymore. He pulled his hand off your grip and place it on his thigh, close to his half-hard twitching cock and simply tapped on his flesh, signalling for you to come up and finally have a taste of him.

Giddily, you leaned forward to take the tip of his dick in your mouth, eyes rolling back and thighs clenching. Meanwhile, Seonghwa had to mask his moan with a cough from the sudden impact, excusing himself by telling everyone that his throat was dry. You tried your best to hold in your chuckle, amazed and amused at Seonghwa's attempt to remain professional despite the treatment you were giving him. But you couldn't care less at that moment. Sure, you cared about how much Seonghwa cared about his job and his professional demeanour around people from his work. But how can you when you have his cock in your mouth? You revelled at the feeling of his cock twitching and hardening in your mouth, knowing that you were the only one who could make him do that, knowing that you have an effect on him. You've heard of blowjob horror stories from your friends, mostly about how the men who expect to get a blow job from them seemed to not consider the importance of keeping hygiene. But not Seonghwa, the man was a nutcase about housekeeping, you can only assume that he wouldn't let his dick in an unhygienic state. You can initiate blow jobs with him at any time and you'd always have the same reaction, a pleasant surprise.

As you kept your mouth busy with bringing Seonghwa to his full length, Seonghwa was trying his best not to move. He kept reminding himself that he only needed to talk for a few more moments before he can kill his mic. His head was clouded with the pleasure you were giving him, though. Since the beginning of your relationship, you've always shown a certain interest in giving him head and the longer you both were together, the more apparent it was for him that you actually GAINED pleasure from pleasuring him in your mouth. From said interest, you gained more and more expertise in blowing him. Only him. Your tongue was tracing his cock from the base to the tip whilst you had one of your hands holding the base gently whilst simultaneously cupping one of his balls, the other free hand you used to "anchor" yourself on his thigh, massaging the flesh gently. Seonghwa nearly bucked his hips and let his eyes roll back. Had he had less self-control, he would've absolutely moaned from how heavenly it felt to be in your mouth.

As soon as his opening statement ended, Seonghwa handed the meeting over to the clients and his partners, excusing himself to mute his mic so as to not disturb the people speaking. The very moment his mic went mute, Seonghwa let out a guttural groan, his head falling forward which he masked by pretending to cough again with his clenched fist over his mouth.

Hearing him letting out sounds that he would absolutely hate to let out in front of other people, you took it as an opportunity for you to be vocal yourself. You chuckled after letting your mouth off of his dick but let your lips remain on the tip, making Seonghwa let out a shaky exhale from between his lips. "You taste so good, Hwa, I couldn't help myself," you said, defending your actions. Seonghwa pretended to sort through the paper he prepared for the meeting, making sure his mouth was covered so he could talk to you, "You're that horny for me huh, slut?" he hissed, bucking slightly when you began stroking his whole hard length with the hand that was holding his base. You looked at him with a mocking pout, "Can you blame me? I just can't help myself, Hwa, not when it comes to you," you said in a pitiful tone. Whatever words Seonghwa was about to use to call you out on your bullshit died in his mouth when he saw you wiping the precum that leaked from the slit of his tip around your lips. His eyes widened when your tongue darted out to lick the substance off, mixing it with whatever remnants of lipgloss you had before moaning out loud.

You went back to take his dick in your mouth, greedily swallowing the appendage and slowly bobbing in rhythm. Seonghwa found it so hard to hold himself, everything just felt too good to him and you were just treating him so well. With his full hard length receiving stimulation continuously, Seonghwa felt so close to cumming. He couldn't even begin to decide whether he wanted to cum in your mouth, on your face, on your tits, or even to hold off until he got the chance to fuck you. He winced when you delivered a particularly harsh suck, the sensation of the harshness of the suck itself paired with your soft lips on him shot straight to his spine and this time he couldn't help but shudder.

"Something wrong, Mr. Park?"

Seonghwa froze while you just scoffed into his dick. With a slightly trembling hand Seonghwa turned his mic back on to talk, "I uh... Got the chills suddenly. Please continue ladies and gentlemen, I will adjust my thermostat for a bit and return momentarily," he said before turning both his mic and camera off. As soon as he was sure that he wouldn't be heard or seen, he pushed his chair back slightly, just enough that he could see you clearly and immediately placed his hand to the back of your head, pushing you into his dick deeper, causing you to gag slightly. You didn't care though, because the burn of him being harsh with you felt so good. "F-fuck," he moaned out, "You better make me cum fast, baby or else I'm gonna edge you for hours after this." Your ears perked up at the challenge, heart swelling with excitement and need to prove to him that you could also give him whatever he wanted.

It was like a race against time. You were bobbing your head at a pace that wasn't too quick as you focused more on taking him in your mouth. The part that your mouth couldn't fit was occupied by both of your hands, pumping him just how you know he liked. With the freedom of not having to care about his appearance, Seonghwa had his head thrown back in pleasure as he let out moan after moan. The sounds he made were melodious to your ears, it pumped your ego as you know that you were doing a really good job. You began moaning into his dick, the vibration it produced added even more pleasure for Seonghwa. His eyes opened when he felt like he was seconds away from cumming and from his point of view, he was able to see the screen of his laptop that showed professionals in the middle of work and at the same time, he saw you sucking him off as your hips ground itself onto the floor beneath you. He could only assume that you left a puddle there. Was it bad that he kind of felt a sense of pride knowing that his girl was pleasuring him in front of other people despite them not being able to see?

Closer to the edge, Seonghwa held your face in its place to thrust into your mouth instead of having you bob your head up and down. When you looked up at him, you saw that he had his eyebrows scrunched and a look of determination on his face. On the other hand, you were looking up at him with glazed eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips that has his cock slipping in and out of it. With the aid of how you looked, Seonghwa let out a grunt and a last thrust of his hips before cumming hard, filling the cavern of your mouth with his seed. The warm sensation made you close your eyes and moaned softly, looking absolutely in bliss. Seonghwa smirked at this, feeling a sense of pride from being able to make you react that way and even more when he pulled himself out of you, making you whine and chase after his dick. But he knew he had no time for that as he still have to see the meeting through.

You stuck out your tongue for him, showing that you had swallowed his load like the good girl you are, making Seonghwa chuckle at how the way you were acting. Seonghwa gently pulled you up and out of the place where you hid, ushering you to go to his room to wait for him with a smile on his face. You nodded obediently and slowly walked away. You halted in your tracks halfway, thinking that you wanted to do something for him first.

"Seonghwa," you called out, catching Seonghwa's attention before he could turn his camera back on. You simply lifted your shirt, flashing him your tits with a proud smile on your face while Seonghwa had a look of utter shock; big eyes paired with stuttering lips that soon broke into a boyish grin. "Good luck with your meeting, I'll be waiting for you!" you said cheekily before running off to his room.

Seonghwa can only shake his head at your antics, clearly amused with you. As he returned to his meeting, some of his coworkers noticed how he seemed to be calmer and more serious, looking like he had millions of thoughts running in his head. Little did they know, Seonghwa was thinking of ways to return the favour to you.

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holy-puckslibrary · 4 months

Text

━ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

pairing(s) — (soft)dark!QUINN HUGHES x gray!reader word count — 4k

note — i am so sorry for this (not really)

recommended viewing — sorority row (2009)

bingo squares and additional content warnings under the cut.

bingo squares —orgasm control, non-consensual voyeurism (+ pictures taken) and implied past mutual masturbation (dubcon — you’ll see) additional content warnings — dom!reader + subby-as-hell!quinn (ngl he’s kind of a pathetic loser here, but that’s why we love him), m!receiving oral (perhaps too much idk you tell me) + cum play x2, quinn rendered dumb and speechless by his raging humiliation kink and his need for degradation (and an itty bitty bit of praise — quinn: new kink unlocked), i have been plagued w ball play as of late so im subjecting yall to it, mention of edging and orgasm denial, oh and just some pheromone kink bits and a cute lil oral fixation moment or two, nothing to see here!

QUINN HUGHES WAS ENAMORED the moment he saw you.

Three rows from the front. Laptop cracked, but more for show than anything. All your glittery, coveted attention fixed on the cellphone resting in your palm while you tapped away, your lips loosely draped over the pen you were gnawing on.

You were positively mesmerizing.

He briefly contemplated sliding into one of the open seats beside yours, but a gaggle of your insipid "sisters" beat him to the punch.

As if he would’ve been able to capitalize on the golden opportunity anyway; it took half the semester for him to form a full, coherent sentence in your vicinity.

Ironically, Quinn was far more comfortable when you weren’t looking.

Or, rather, Quinn was more comfortable when you didn’t know he was looking.

He didn’t interact much with anyone outside of his coding cohort and the club team—athletic prowess only garners state-school clout when your sport is top dog, and this was a football school, through and through. As such, and at the hands of his tragic awkwardness, he rarely spoke to women, if ever.

And he never got face time with any as effortlessly beautiful and interesting as you.

Discovering that your large bedroom window faced the secluded side street he took to get home from practice each night felt like a sign. He’d struck gold, and it would be a shame not to put the knowledge to good use.

In his own shadowy domain, he could be whatever and whoever he wanted; he could be the guy who got the girl.

It was exhilarating, really.

Quinn supposed some of that rush should be attributed to the feeling of unbridled control his daily routine sorely and consistently lacked. He hardly, if ever, felt like an active participant in his own life.

But in the privacy of his own head—and the safety of the very curb he’s stood on now—there were no alpha douche-canoes to eat up your finite attention or loud airheads to crave your tutelage.

Between sundown and sun-up, you were his and his alone.

— Even if you were none the wiser.

As benevolent as you may appear, he knew you would never give a guy like him the time of day. Quinn was a lot of things, but stupid's never been one of them.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence if it weren’t for your shared smaller sessions on Thursday mornings. Just you and him… and ten other students, with the occasional appearance of your slacker TA—how romantic.

And if he couldn’t even get a moment alone with you, he definitely wouldn’t get a night inside of you, either.

So, he settles.

Quinn puts up with the bugs and tolerates the bushes, swallowing his pride (and his mortification), and takes what he can get.

He's accustomed to maneuvering in the dark—this stretch of pavement in particular—but he stumbles through the dimly lit street like he’s got two left feet that only grew in yesterday.

If you were privy to his impromptu audition for Bambi, you don’t mention it.

And if you clocked the obnoxious bulge tenting his jeans, you don’t acknowledge that, either.

Quinn isn’t entirely sure this is happening in his real, waking life; it’s far too good to be true.

This is not at all where he thought the night would go when your name flashed across the screen.

When he hesitantly clicked ‘accept’ and brought the phone to his ear, all while still palming himself to the memory of your head tossed back in ecstasy—the way it was before the lights went out abruptly —Quinn assumed he’d soon be gripping steel bars.

“H-How’d you get this number?” he asked after hearing his name.

You whispered it so ardently he could almost feel your breath on his cheek. It made him shiver and, momentarily, forget he’d likely been caught red-handed—literally.

“You made the group chat for our section, silly.”

Instinct compelled Quinn to chastise himself, but knowing you remembered that minute detail—a nothing of a fact, really—was enough to override the urge entirely.

And the complete lack of ire in your voice lured him into a false sense of security yet to be disproven.

He gulped and willed his hand to stop moving. “Oh, right. Uh, is there something you need? Did the outline for next week not go through? Because if not, I can just re-send it ri—”

“Meet me at the same door as last time,” you sliced through his rambling with a tone that was neither foreboding nor comforting.

Then, the line went dead.

For once, Quinn was grateful to be so eager to please. If not for that zeal, he couldn't have walked up to the service door of Delta Nu.

Risking the wrath of your underlings was never a goal of his, but considering how quickly they turned up their plastic noses at him when he came by to drop off notes from the class you missed, Quinn couldn’t imagine worse circumstances for Round Two.

When the backdoor swung in, you spoiled him in all your glory and the assurance of an empty house.

Out of pure exhaustion—and in his excitement to resume his ritual after a long week away—it slipped his mind; tonight is the best and biggest Kappa Tau rager.

Hence the ghost town

“Do you stand out there all night, stalker?”

Quinn’s head bobbed despite the apt insult. Then, he remembered you couldn’t see his reply, given that you were leading him up a staircase.

“M-Most nights, yeah.”

At that, you spun on your heel. Quinn shook like a leaf as you stepped forward. Gripping the railing, a hand on either side of his shrunken form, you invaded his personal space for the sole purpose of degrading him further.

The sneer hadn’t reached your eyes, but it speared him just the same. “God, you’re fucking pathetic.”

Quinn launched into an attempt at groveling, but his own verbal clumsiness rendered the effort futile.

However, his sputtered half-thoughts and litany of sentences that went nowhere were brought to a screeching halt by a single, manicured finger. Unable to process the touch and the wicked grin on your otherwise cherubic face concurrently, he froze.

His predicament worsened when you gently breached the tight seam of his lips to rest your interruption against his tongue.

You stepped closer; he saw stars. “I like that.”

It was at that moment Quinn realized you came straight down to the side-yard...because he could taste you. As you massaged his tongue with the pad of your finger, effectively rubbing your essence into his body, it took every ounce of strength to keep himself from busting right there in your foyer.

Still, he managed the mortification he sought to avoid.

“Are you… Are you humping me?” you barked with an incredulous snort.

Humiliation blurred his vision as you backed away from him; it wasn’t his fault your perfume elicited a Pavlovian bodily reaction.

You kept your finger in his mouth as you bit back genuine laughter, but that just made him harder.

“Y’know,” you hummed, contemplative. You paused to watch your pointer finger slowly thrust in and out of his needy mouth. Your smirk was noticeably wider when you spoke again. “My last boyfriend couldn’t even text me back—or remember that he was in a monogamous relationship.”

Quinn blinked. “Your last boyfriend?”

The question was garbled by your finger—and his own sucking. It didn’t matter, though. His reply wasn’t necessary.

At least, not yet.

“Mhmm, my last one.”

You repeated yourself as if you were speaking to a child and not to the grown man whose boner was digging into your skin.

It made him whimper. Your condescension was his kryptonite, apparently.

“But...I know my next one will be different; you’re too devoted to hurt me.”

He wasn’t given time to respond because as soon as you got your desired reaction—mewling akin to a bleating lamb and the whites of his eyes—you were dragging him up the remaining stairs and into the president’s suite.

Quinn’s spent countless hours wondering what your bedroom looked like, and even more fantasizing about what might happen if he ever saw it firsthand. His mouth splits after working up the nerve to compare the reality of your space to his mental notes, but before he can shove out any words, you’re backing him across the room with a devious glint in your eyes.

“W-What are you doing?” he asks when his back hits glass.

Right now, he’s pressed against his standing window into your most private moments. It feels wrong to be on this side of the wall.

Quinn gets none of the bubbly warmth he assumed he would if he ever found himself here. Instead, he feels unbelievably small as he drowns in a sea of poor choices.

“I think a little exhibitionism would be good for you, Hughes.”

"I-I don’t understand…”

You smile. His stupid heart flutters.

God, love’s fucking embarrassing.

Again, you crowd his space. This time, though, until there’s barely enough room between the window pane and your body for his wilted one. You press a single, fleeting kiss to his pulse point, your breath fanning over his clammy skin. His hitches in his throat.

“I want you to see things from my point of view.”

The words seep into his neck. Your intentions slam into him like a semi-truck going full speed. Anyone walking on the path—his path— would need only to venture a peek at your window to know exactly what was happening.

It would be too easy to watch him the way he’s watched you for weeks.

A taste of his own medicine.

The candy-coated threat shouldn’t have the effect that it does. Given how emotionally charged the air’s become—for him, at least—it makes sense for his body to get some wires crossed; the same sticky emotion causing him to wither in fear should not be making him harder than ever.

He isn’t expecting you to kiss him, so it takes Quinn’s mind a beat to catch up. Still, he melts into the affection like it's the only thing keeping him alive. Though, as soon as Quinn regains enough composure to actually participate, you kill the kiss as swiftly as you brought it to fruition.

He chases after your mouth, much to your amusement.

“What, sad there was no tongue?” you tease as if you weren't the one to ruined the moment.

Quinn doesn’t find you very funny right now.

“We’re going to play a little game.”

Your lips brush his as your hushed words march out, but he remains still. He knows better now than to ask questions prematurely. You hum in acknowledgment, satisfied.

Quinn beams. He's always been a quick study.

You take him by the wrist and guide him into the space you just vacated.

Physically, he knows he’s stronger. It wouldn’t take much to overpower you, but that means nothing in the face of your mental sway. Quinn can’t move because you don’t want him to—because you haven’t told him he can.

And any hope of gaining the upper hand crashes out onto the concrete the moment your bare knees hit the carpet.

Quinn knows he’s a dead man when your hands coast up his thighs.

“Put your hands on the window sill.” He does without hesitation. “Keep them there. You move, I stop. Understand?”

“Yes, I-I understand.”

“Good boy,” you say.

It’s more of a taunt than true praise, but his bulge twitches all the same before your eyes. The slight betrayal announces the internal chaos in the wake of the unexpected praise.

Quinn knew he liked that, but he didn’t want you to know it, too. What little control he managed to horde dissipates.

The delight on your face confirms the worst; you plan to do with that information what he hoped you wouldn’t. “God, I am going to have so much fun with you.”

It's an uphill battle, trying to keep his eyes open and his hands where they are supposed to be.

Quinn tastes nirvana when you finally flick the tip of your tongue over his cherry-red tip, the skin having adopted a luminous intensity courtesy of the few street lamps nearby. Glowing, after too much teasing.

Normally, he veered toward edging and denial JOI content, especially if the voice actor sounded anything like you. Tonight, he’s never hated a concept more. Still, he's making sure he behaves because he knows you’ll reward him handsomely.

You can be sweet when you want to be.

Like right now, for instance. You’re snuggling your face into his body, generously nuzzling his painfully stiff length with your cheeks. Whenever the friction mounts to anything substantial, you pull back to decorate his hips and inner thighs with little pecks.

They're reminiscent of the chaste parting kisses you’ve given his cheek in the past just to make him squirm.

You lap up what you can of the escaping arousal, hungrily drinking down all he has to offer. You do your best, you really do, but there’s just too much. The successor to each puddle arrives faster than you expect, and quicker than you can keep up with.

So, you stop trying.

You’re both so desperate, anyway.

Quinn bites back a scream when your dominant hand loops around the base of his cock; the cruel, beautiful beast only settling once the middle finger finally reaches the accompanying thumb. The pressure is light, but encompassing enough to make him dizzy.

So dizzy, in fact, that he actually appreciates your one rule.

However, nothing could have prepared him for what torture you enact next.

Blinking up at him, you rub the leaking tip over and between your lips. With one hand braced against his bare thigh and the other unchanged, you gently tug downward as you suckle the bulbous head.

The sensation is unlike anything Quinn has felt in his limited experience, which he wears like a scarlet letter. The little huffs that make him feel like a dog panting in mid-July remind him that while he's gotten a blowjob or two before, they were nothing like this one. They weren't from you. It might be unfair to lump those instances in with the magic of your mouth.

You can’t compete where you don’t compare.

So, Quinn showers you in soft, airy whispers. Even when you pull back until only the ridge preceding the tip rests past your spit-stained lips, he goes on and on about how good your mouth feels and how much he adores you.

And, if he were slightly more coherent, maybe he would’ve caught the obvious squeeze of your thighs at his flushed cheeks and the reciprocal effect your lazy teasing.

His hips go rogue when you try to swallow him a little deeper, jerking forward and sending the firm tip to the back of your throat. Naturally, you lose your grip and gag around him, your eyes watering more and more with each subsequent unintended impact.

Quinn is bashfully apologetic, but you’re quick to remove him from your mouth.

“Shouldn’t you already know I like to choke on it?” your raspy voice goads.

You shoot him a wink before hollowing your cheeks to accommodate his wide girth, your tongue flattened and pressed tautly to the underside.

The shallow movement triggers images he shouldn’t have, bright and flashing through his head: of you, on your knees like this for that jerk-off ex-boyfriend of yours—of you, from a distance and fuzzy, forever immortalized in a single film unit pinned to the back wall of his closet.

Quinn does know you like to choke on it. He knows you like to be choked, too.Quinn knows a lot of things about you—likes, dislikes, sleep patterns, study habits… sexual preferences.

Your bizarre reaction to his Peeping Tom antics makes him wonder what you might know about him…

He’s given no time to fall down that rabbit hole on account of your nose brushing his public bone once more. Quinn cannot fathom how his length disappeared down your throat so smoothly, and it's useless to try, given how thoroughly muddied his head’s become with your tongue gently petting the delicate skin of his sack.

With your lips stretched around the base—and your thumb tucked into your palm to subdue innate reflex—you begin massaging what you can. Until you realize quinn has absolutely zero volume control. As crazy as his loud and breathy moans make you, you’ve come too far only to get this far.

Viscous, glasslike threads hang between your withheld mouth and his anguished cock in the lower fringe of your vision. Above you, Quinn is struggling, whimpering like a lost puppy caught in a storm.

Lips parted ever-so-slightly, his forehead rests against the frame, limp. He's white-knuckling the historic, but recently refurbished wood, trembling in your barely-there hold because he’s that aroused. Mindlessly teetering on the border of “too much” and “not enough," all the while mumbling unintelligibly between choppy breaths.

You could get drunk on those pretty sounds; you’re sure of it.

Maybe next time, you will.

“I know I said everyone was out, but I don’t think you want Ms. Patty busting through the door before you have a chance to.”

The thought of your sixty-year-old, strict-as-fuck house mother catching him with his pants around his ankles is just horrific enough to coax him a bit closer to the ground.

Quinn bites his lip in a show of good faith.

“Good boy,” you hum your approval while stroking him. “Now, tell me what you want. Tell me what you need to cum in my mouth, Quinn.”

“I need—f-fuck!” he grumbles, at war with himself. Ultimately, primal need overpowers the fickle social invention that is a shame: “I need you to play with… with my b-balls again—please.”

Delaying his wish, you wrap your mouth around him one last time. You need to elicit that one-of-one sudden, uneven intake of air—the giveaway gasp, the tremor of truth. Insatiable, you fill your throat to the brink. The distinct, thick scent of the day’s natural musk swirling with the sheen of hard work on the ice keeps you there until your vision blurs and drool pools under your tongue.

Motivated by a sticky, overdue reward and a whine bursting from deep in Quinn’s throat—the sweet sound of total surrender—you succumb to your own desire to make him feel the best he’s ever felt.

You lick at them gingerly at first, and with a doughy, flattened tongue. You meant to test the waters, to take things slow and drag out his orgasm, but a string of colorful language tumbles from his pretty, pink mouth to derail your plans.

With the dam crumbling, you have to suck one into your hot, wet mouth.

His reaction does not disappoint.

Your spit-soaked hands rise to his recently abandoned length as you devote equal attention to the pair with your mouth. Quinn swells and heavies on your tongue and everything is throbbing.

Including the tight heat between your knees, pulsing around the mere thought of him fucking you there instead.

“S’close, ‘m gonna c-cum soon—Shit!”

Amidst the drawn-out expletive, you detach in order to aim his release on his behalf (though very reluctantly), knowing full-well Quinn is far too gone to be capable of anything.

His eyelids flutter seconds before snapping open, intent to watch you watch him fall apart.

Oh, and fall apart he does…

Crude and ear-piercing, and over faster than either of you would’ve preferred, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little flattered by it. You enjoy how easy he is—how pliable.

His hips jerk too easily and his hands wander aimlessly, and you can’t bring yourself to chastise him, entirely consumed by the show unfolding at your hand. It's like he can’t help himself; can’t help but twitch and drip, can’t help but whimper and beg for anything and everything.

He won’t even let you pull away to catch your breath without whining. At one point, whether by accident or designed to keep you from retreating, Quinn’s knees squeezed together, effectively caging you in from both sides.

A messy concoction of cum, spit, and tears paints the lower half of your face. Quinn’s chest heaves as he watches it collect and drip down your neck and into the valley of your chest, soiling your delicate pajamas beyond repair.

Unfazed, you leave the emotionality to him while you lick your fingers clean. Once you’ve finished, you mop up the dissenter spray on your cheeks, chin, and décolletage, and greedily swallow it down, too. It's when you delve between your tits to scoop out the remainder of his spill that Quinn just about keels over.

He falls back against the window, and you shift back into your heels.

He rights his pants, and you wipe your mouth with the corner of your bathrobe.

For a while, you observe one another, having not been this close—or alone—together before.

That’s not to say you didn’t notice him, though.

You actually struggled not to, and it drove your now-ex insane. His enmity toward Quinn came to a head this afternoon. Unable to deny your raging, juvenile crush, you finally pulled the trigger on something that was a long time coming—and for reasons beyond that not-so-unfounded jealousy.

“C-Can I have a head-start before you call the c-cops?” Quinn asks.

He’s so timid, you can’t help but laugh. He blinks down, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he rifles through yours, searching for malicious intent or knotted strings—fury behind an unspoken threat.

You let him look; this is a conclusion he needs to reach without you holding his hand.

When the investigation runs its course having turned up nothing dubious, he slides down to the floor beside you. He’s reverted to avoiding eye contact, unfortunately. Quinn watches the tremor in his fingers instead.

“I am sorry, y'know, about… Well, uh, you know.”

You find the way he dances around committing a felony (repeatedly) weirdly endearing.

While you very well could put him out of his palpable misery—you can actually smell it on him—there's no fun to be found in that. As such, you force Quinn to wrestle with his words a bit longer.

Eventually, you offer him a shrug that isn’t the least bit pacifying.

“You’re going to make it up to me, don’t worry.”

His eyes snap to yours just as you knew they would. His throat quivers in the wake of a sharp gulp.

The nervous tick cracks your nonchalant demeanor. You roll your eyes. “If you’re going to keep watching, you might as well make yourself useful.”

Quinn’s eyes narrow, perplexed. You grin in anticipation.

“My vibrator’s dead, and I can’t find the right charger. Time to get your ass off the bench, Hughes.”

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zlebooks · 10 months

Text

ch. 17 — cat whisperers (literally)

you finally tuck your phone away into your pockets. admittedly, childe has distracted you longer than you intended to.

a voice calls you from the next room and you immediately knew it was zhongli from the way he lets your name roll off of his tongue so delicately.

“coming!” you yell, rushing out of the break room you were in and the moment you open the door to where zhongli is, you were greeted by the boy holding his index finger to his lips.

that definitely shut you up, okay.

you start to approach zhongli on your tippy toes, careful of the creaky wooden fooor, squatting down once you were beside the boy.

his gaze fixated on the cat sleeping in front of the both of you, zhongli looks like his intense stare would provide further protection for the cat and you laugh inside at how adorable he looked.

“what are we staring at?” you say in a normal volume that makes zhongli’s head whip immediately at you, putting his index finger on his lip once more, reminding you to stay quiet.

“i’m sorry,” you whipser apologetically, offering a smile.

“it’s fine, it’s just… she barely sleeps now and whenever she actually does, i want her to have an uninterrupted one.” zhongli says, gesturing to the cat in front.

“her name?”

“i named her kitty katty.”

“i—“

the name already shocked you and the fact that it came from zhongli himself was the cherry on top of your cake. “i’m sorry but kitty katty?”

zhongli smiles sheepishly, “you can laugh if you want.”

“no no no, i think it’s adorable,” you whisper yell at the student council president, giggling at how weird you find this whole ordeal.

“she’s been here for as long as i am.”

he suddenly says and zhongli surprises even himself.

“how long have you been volunteering here?”

“i’ve been here since i was seven,” zhongli starts and as he notices your confusion, he continues. “i used to visit my brother when he was the one volunteering.”

“oh, that’s sweet.”

“yeah, i wanted to spend every moment with him before he went to college.”

“so… where is he now?”

“he’s still away. he decided to settle down in the city.”

okay. nice. he didn’t have mommy nor daddy issues— he might have older brother issues though.

“are you guys close?” you try to prod but then immediately regret when the small smile on zhongli’s face while looking at the senior cat dropped almost immediately.

you realize that maybe you shouldn’t have asked.

“you don’t have to answer that question,”

“it’s fine,” he releases a deep sigh, “i used to be close to him, we just grew apart.”

you hum. “he had the talent to escape the hard parts in life.” zhongli says before looking up and redirecting his gaze towards the picture frame sitting atop of the counter.

there you see a total of four figures; a man in his late 40s who you assume zhongli’s father, a teenage boy who was aged 15 who you think it’s zhongli’s brother, a child aged 7 that looks like the younger version of the man himself, and a beautiful woman sitting on a wheelchair.

it didn’t take long enough for you to put two and two together.

“you know, you can always talk to me about anything.”

zhongli snorts in surprise, “where did that come from?”

“it’s just… you always listen to everyone’s problems but no one really listens to yours.” you reason out, looking at the boy intently— zhongli looks back at you with widened eyes, taken aback from what you said.

“i suppose i never thought of it that way.” he admits, “thank you.”

you shrug it off like how you would normally. your attention is brought back to kitty katty, the cat now stretching its limbs as it awoke. zhongli was too distracted by something else though— he was looking at you, in awe.

as he stares at the side of your head longer, the longer he notices the littles habits you do. he notices how you tilt your chin upwards a little bit when amused— just like what you’re doing now— and the way your nose scrunches when a little too focused.

slowly, he starts memorizing the curve of your lips, the shape of your nose, and the crinkles in your eyes. like an artist with his art— he admires you up close.

the bell above the door suddenly jingles, making zhongli whip his head elsewhere as if caught doing something he shouldn’t have been. and a boisterous voice speaks up, as zhongli feels bile rising up to this throat.

“i’m here to pick up my wonderful girlfriend,” childe says in a singsong voice, choosing those words in order to tease you.

zhongli pulls his head down from the clouds, of course, he thinks. it was getting late anyway.

you stand from the ground you were sitting on before sending a smile towards zhongli’s way. he nods as a response when you bid him goodbye, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the uncomfortable churn of his stomach.

when you and your boyfriend step out of the animal shelter, zhongli catches himself with his eyes glued to the door. there were just some things he couldn’t have, huh.

love equation — [ prev / masterlist / next ]

embarrassed by your three year (and counting) long crush on zhongli, you suddenly claim you have a boyfriend. there enters childe, your crush's best friend and the one who'll either help with your lie or report you to the police for harassment. or in which caught up in a lie, you had no choice but to kiss the closest person next to you.

FEATURING: childe x she/her!reader, a little bit of zhongli x reader, other genshin impact characters! (they are too many to list)

TAGLIST: [1/3] @r0ttenhearts @afoxesgreed @kairxse @cameshitpost @xingqiusliegee @lysslilyc @aiikalvr @rrasado @belovedxiao @kunisbeloved @raideneiari @multifandoms27-blog @xxyuixe @rifran @ode-to-spring @arraxthatsonjah @thedeadbitchwalking @miitchiji @kaoyamamegami @shrslair @ajaxstar @duckyyyx @xuan-zhen @dee-zbignuts @sashiette @goodthingimsam @bah1e @happycheesecakedelusion @diyonicus @blov3d @kavehmylove @jan-penakulu @tsunotaro-san @carmoronic @kunikuzushisbeloved @nottherealslimshady @maruubread @lisaslittle-helper @xiaoyksa @keithsaccount @vampfishie @empathum @anneliese500 @katthehatt @dee-zbignuts @scaraslover @klementime @nachotrash @elouxia @crispynutduck @leafinapuddle @dazaiscum @divinekeira @slvdsjjk @alianaluvsu

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #tartaglia #childe #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin angst #childe x reader #childe fluff #childe angst #childe imagines #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia angst #tartaglia fluff

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ithaquakisser · 1 year

Text

Look Only At Me

Synopsis; Your eyes are his and only his. Why must you look someone else's way?

CW; Unhealthy relationship, obsession, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, suggestive themes, slight NSFW

MINORS DNI. (18+)

WC; ≈1.2K

Note; I was going through it writing this because I literally made myself blush— 😭 I had a lot of fun writing this though, that's for sure! I noticed "Desire" received so many notes so I decided to write something similar to it. I have to admit I am a bit embarrassed since this was a bit self-indulgent... But I hope you guys enjoy! 🫶 (This was written at 3am...)

Ithaqua gravely detested you. Your presence brought about such profound feelings of resentment in his heart. Such utter feelings of indignation must be buried in silence. Let the wind cry and roar in spite of your presence whilst you turn a blind eye to his misery. Must you pull at his heartstrings each time you part your lips to speak? Must you leave him in dismay every moment your eyes avert from his?

What shall he do to put an end to such torment? What could remedy such agony? You were akin to a dove, oh so pure, so lovely, oh so naive. You dared not turn his way. You were a mere dove, one that he wishes to sink his teeth into. One that he longs to maintain for his selfish desires. One that he yearns to pluck your beloved white feathers and leave you flightless. That way, you could never leave him.

You were a nuisance. You were nothing more but a burden to him. Yet, why must the wind cry upon your absence? He could never bring himself to understand such a thing. Must you cast him aside like worthless dross? Let your eyes wander, longing for something, someone more than him. Such a thought only churns feelings of displeasure. Ithaqua bit his lip in vexation, for he believed this was something he shan't ever let happen.

Your chest heaved sporadically whilst you panted. The distinctively tall hunter towered over you, his ice axe in hand as droplets of crimson met the snow beneath your feet. A flame ignited in his ember eyes as it locked with yours, he could hear his heart beating brutally in ire while he gazed upon your face of dismay. A sly leer on his face as he approached you. You took a step back, letting out a shaky gasp as you met the walls behind you.

Your teammates were nowhere to be seen or heard. In the distance, you could faintly hear cipher machines. The young male had dropped his ice axe behind him, hunching over slightly to meet your face. Raven hues fixated onto yours, he was abnormally close for comfort. “Ithaqua…?” You uttered breathily. With a menacing smile beneath his mask, he gripped your face, causing you to yelp.

“Y/N… Why must you torment me so? Do you hate me, Y/N?” Ithaqua spoke your name like a prayer, an incantation. “Why do you avoid me?” He interrogated with a scowl. “Are you… afraid of me, Y/N?” He lifted your chin to face him, his voice alone was enough to send shivers down your spine. “No… Of course not, Ithaqua.”

“Then… Why do you run from me, Y/N?” Ithaqua gripped your face tighter, his nails sinking lightly into your skin. Your heart fiercely pounded against your chest as he spoke. Snowflakes licked at your hair as scarlet beads spilled from your lips from your earlier encounter. “Tell me… Do I scare you?” He probed as he ran his thumb over your bloodied lips.

“Fear certainly wouldn’t look like this, now, would it…?” Leisurely, you reached your trembling hands towards his mask. You pulled it off, letting it drop to the snow beneath the two of you. A shade of scarlet red painted over his pale cheeks as his onyx eyes met yours, taken aback by your gesture. A faint cool breeze grazed against both of your skins as he leaned closer, releasing his grip on you.

Ithaqua intertwined his hands with yours instead, pinning them against the wall as he leaned toward the crook of your neck. “Don’t you run from me anymore.” He murmured, his hot breath against your skin. “I’m sorry…” You mumbled in response. “Must you always look someone else’s way?” He muttered.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” You repeated yourself like a broken record. You could not bear to upset him like this. “Then promise me one thing, Y/N.” “Yes, Ithaqua?” He leaned in close to your ear, his thumb caressing your hand as he whispered. -“Look only at me.”-

“Of course…” You obliged. “Good…” His lips curled into a small smile as he tenderly kissed your neck. You winced as he scraped his teeth against your bare neck, Ithaqua emitting a small chuckle in response. “Relax…” His warm tongue ran over your flesh, sinking his teeth into you as he sucked. You moaned as he trailed love bites down your neck, working himself down to your collarbone. You called out his name under your breath, lost in his touch.

You had flinched upon the sound of sirens wailing throughout the vicinity. “Ithaqua—” The hunter silenced you, placing a slender finger on your lips. “We’re not done yet.” Spoke the male as he raised your chin, his lips brushing against yours. You melted into the kiss, enveloping your arms around his waist.

Oh, how he gravely detested you. How you'd so easily succumb to him. How you'd still beam at him regardless of his actions. It all made him sick, sick to his stomach. Sick in ways he still didn't quite understand. Perhaps, his heart would find peace with you wrapped around his finger. Seeing it all come into play as you melted upon his touch. He wondered how far is it that you can go. How long is it before you break?

A hand intertwined with his, and another buried deep into his platinum waves. His soft lips were pressed against yours, your tongue dancing with his. Ithaqua's face was flushed with a ruby tint, burning against your skin. Small strands of hair brushed upon your warm cheeks, his body pressed against yours. He was greedy in every way, shape, and form. His touch demonstrates his burning desire, one that is everlasting.

His fingers trailed down your body, begging for more of your touch. He tasted the bitter, metallic taste of blood from your lips, a piece of work done by his own hands. He left you breathless, gasping for air, pleading for more. A thin strand of saliva connected you two, his touch lingering on your skin. The hunter dared not look at you, unable to comprehend the feelings churning inside of him.

How greatly he wanted to strike you down at that very moment. The very moment you laid your delicate eyes on him with such adoration. How dare you gaze upon him with great delicacy? How dare you stir these feelings in his heart? These were all words left unspoken as he reached a trembling hand towards you. Ithaqua's heart pounded frantically in his chest as you took his hand into yours. He wished he could run away, hide away from you, you who brings him torment.

You never cease to pull at his heartstrings like a lyre, and he despised you for it.

Warm rays of sunshine shone upon your face as you awoke in the manor once again. Disoriented you were, you had no recollection of the events that occurred subsequently. You trailed your fingers down your neck, the sound of wind ringing in your ears like chimes. Your cheeks were tinted a shade of carmine, and the series of events prior replayed in your mind ever so vividly. His lips on your cold neck, his fingers tracing stars into your skin. He had left you with a feeling you never felt before in your chest.

Yet, oh, how he detested you so.

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