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#how come i knew that at such a young age?
readsaboutreid · 3 days
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Fantasies
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this is smutty smutty smut smut so it's 18+, minors please dni
honestly this is just like a fantasy of mine inspired by how wildly hot this entire exchange is what can i say i'm a scifi girlie (gender neutral) and i figured it might make a good fic so here goes nothing
this is part 1 of 2
contains: unprotected sex (creampie), oral (f receiving), munch!spencer, softdom!spencer
“—but the reason the entire ritual was considered taboo wasn’t because Vulcans were supposed to be portrayed as prudish virgins, that’s all I’m saying,” (Y/N) ranted at JJ and Prentiss, gaining amused but shocked and confused stares from the two of them. When they had found out about her relationship with Spencer they might less than shocked but they had never seen her ramble like this in such a Reid-esque fashion.
Penelope Garcia, being ever the one to playfully tease her best friend decided to push the young agent’s buttons a little bit by playfully arguing back, “but then why all the secrecy around the ritual when it comes to other species knowing about it?” Which made (Y/N) roll her eyes in response and groan, and earning her glances from JJ and Prentiss that screamed why would you keep this going for longer?!
"Fucking Christ, Penny, you should know this, ugh—the ritual of Pon Farr is considered taboo because of the depth of emotions experienced by the Vulcans as they enter it, not because it has to do with sexual reproduction; Vulcans have sex outside of Pon Farr and we know this for a fact not only because Trip is literally told outright that Vulcans have sex by a Vulcan when he asked, but also because if Vulcans only ever copulated during Pon Farr, then Vulcan generations would always be seven years apart in age," her exasperation was nearly palpable as she ranted speedily, gaining good spirited laughter from Garcia as she watched her friend rage over something that they all knew in the end was fairly insignificant.
Spencer watched this entire exchange from his desk across the bullpen with a fond smile and a warm, floaty feeling blooming across his chest. That's when Garcia notices him staring from his desk and decides to literally drag him into the discussion, deciding that everyone must join in the procrastination socialization. "What the—hey!" Spencer barely managed to steady himself and keep from falling out of the chair.
"I wanna know what our resident boy wonder has to contribute to the discussion," Penelope laughed in a singsong-y voice as she got him to the table they were all congregating at together and rolled him right up next to the chair on which (Y/N) was perched.
She looked over at him and shot him a small wave and a quiet, "hi, love." And he melted. Instantly.
Her smile was so sweet Spencer could do nothing for s moment but respond with his own toothy, lovestruck grin. He was snapped back to reality by Garcia literally snapping in front of him and chiding (Y/N) as she said, “what have you done to this boy? Are you a freakin’ witch or something?” Spencer and (Y/n) both laughed and Garcia then continued, "so, Reid, do you agree with (Y/N)’s impassioned rant?"
"Oh! Right," Spencer shook his head, "no, she's 100% correct. The ritual of Pon Farr does not solely dictate when Vulcans have sexual relations. It is simply a period of heightened emotions and bonding for them." He looked at (Y/N) with another soft smile, proud that she had such a vast knowledge of Star Trek lore.
"See, Penny? Even the genius agrees with me," (Y/N) teased playfully, earning a chuckle from the team and a light blush from Spencer.
Garcia clapped her hands together excitedly, “Well then let's—”
“—I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a case,” Garcia’s bubbly lilt was cut off by the stern tone of Agent Hotchner as he summoned them to the briefing room. Everyone broke apart at that, following their Unit Chief to the round table. As they all took their seats Spencer made sure to sit by (Y/N) so he could secretly slip her hand into his under the table to cling to some semblance of goodness as they were filled in on the next of the worst of humanity they had to face.
Spencer and (Y/N) laid together in his bed as they always did after particularly rough cases. He ran his finger gently up and down her barely clothed back when she uttered a soft, “hey I have this, like, sort of random question.”
“Oh? What would that be?” Spencer whispered into her hair, half asleep.
“Do you have any, like, fantasies you’d wanna ?” Spencer was confused by her question and the look on his face as she looked up at him told her as much, so she clarified, “like, sexually?"
Well, now he was up. In multiple ways. He reached over and turned on his lamp and stammered out, "uh—w-what—where did that come from?" Spencer's voice rose multiple octaves while his heart skipped a beat.
"Well I just—," she started before cutting herself off and making a face that said she was thinking about how exactly she wanted to explain her thought process. "There's something I've been thinking about for a couple weeks." Her cheeks tinged pink if the soft light of his desk lamp as she shyly looked up at him through her lashes in a way that made his pajama pants start to feel uncomfortably tight.
"Oh? What would that be?" Spencer found himself echoing his first question, unable to focus on anything that wasn't (Y/N) her nipples were peeking through her thin tank top.
"Do you, um, do you remember that conversation about Pon Farr me and Penny were having a little while back?" She whispered, seeming embarrassed to be bringing it up.
"I do," he confirmed, nodding while he finally moved his eyes from her chest to her face, "why do you ask?" He leaned down and began peppering her face with soft kisses, drawing a symphony of giggles from her, before moving from her cheeks down her chin and then to her neck.
Her giggles turned to soft moans and she tried her best to form a response, but as Spencer began sliding his hand up underneath the fabric she found herself struggling to think through the haze. She finally managed to mutter a soft, "I just—mmm—the conversation got me thinking that it might be—fuck, Spencer—to kind of, like, roleplay sometime—holy shit, Spencer, please don’t stop!" His fingers had found their way to her nipples and while she spoke he began gently teasing and tormenting them.
As Spencer continued to explore the sensitive skin of (Y/N)'s chest, she couldn't help but let out another moan, causing Spencer to pause momentarily to look into her eyes. "Roleplay?" Spencer whispered hoarsely, his voice laced with both excitement and curiosity as his fingers continued their dance on her skin. "What did you have in mind?"
(Y/N) bit her lip nervously, her eyes darting around the room as if seeking inspiration. "Well," she began hesitantly, "I was thinking something along the lines of, uh, maybe a kind of Trek-themed scenario? Like, you could be a Vulcan, and I—I could be your mate?" She trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper as she watched Spencer's expression.
"And what would that involve, exactly?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, his fingers still gently stroking her nipples.
(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. "Well, it might involve—uh, well, you know, some intimate bonding rituals."
Spencer laughed softly, the sound warm and low in the dimly-lit room. "You want me to roleplay as a Vulcan during Pon Farr and have 'intimate bonding rituals' with you?" he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face. "I can't say I've ever really thought about that before, but I'm willing to give it a try." He began trailing kisses from her neck down to her chest while he tugged on the hem of her shirt, pulling it of her when she raised her arms above her head for him.
He started trailing kisses down her stomach, stopping when he reached the waistline of her pajama shorts and looking up at her through his eyelashes. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and panties, and she lifted her hips instinctively so he could slide them down her legs. Spencer moved back up her body to kiss her softly on the lips before getting up off of the bed and standing at the edge, rotating (Y/N) 90° and gently pulling her until she was lined up at the edge of the bed before spreading her legs open and kneeling down in front of her slowly.
(Y/N) shuddered with anticipation at the feeling of his breath gently hitting her dripping center. When she looked down at him he was looking up at her, his amber eyes burning with lust and his pupils blown wide. He licked his lips before leaning in and kissing her burning core softly while running his tongue out to lap up some of the beautiful slickness that had accumulated with a soft moan. He tormented her with light teases from his tongue and her hips bucked up towards his mouth, making him use one of his hands to hold them down and look up at her with a stern expression that told her, 'hold still or I'll stop.'
She whimpered at the loss of his tongue, but it was only for a split second as she felt his index finger push up against her entrance. He teased the entrance by lightly moving up and down it, collecting her honey and bringing it up to his lips and licking it off before bringing his finger back. When he started slowly pushing his finger inside of her, he attached his lips to her clit and did a delightful thing with his tongue that made her nearly see white.
She reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair and gasped out a soft, "Spencer that feels so—oh god—so fucking good!" He slowly pumped his finger in and out of her, savoring the sensation of her soft walls around it. God, how he wanted to be inside of her right now. But there was no way he was going to be able to drag himself away from her pussy, not yet. He needed more. He slipped another finger into her and sucked on her clit, running his tongue around it in circles.
He kept this up and listened to her moans for guidance and encouragement, speeding his fingers up ever so slightly and feeling her body begin to tense up underneath him. Her moans began to increase in volume and frequency, her grip on his hair growing tighter as his fingertips ran across the spongy piece of flesh on the front wall of her pussy, earning a loud and desperate wail from (Y/N) as he felt her orgasm begin to take over her.
He moaned as he lapped up her juices and gave her pussy one last kiss before wiping his mouth and chin with his write and moving back up to kiss you desperately. He settled his clothed hips between her soaked legs and she ground her hips against his erection through his pants. He rocked his hips against her, finding a perfect rhythm. He moaned into her mouth before pulling back and standing up, untying the drawstring on his pants to pull them and his briefs down in one swift movement.
He took his place on top of her again and nestled his cock up against her entrance. She reached down between their bodies and stroked his throbbing member before guiding it to her entrance. He wasted no time, pushing into her immediately and groaning in relief. For a brief second he could only think in images and single word fragments. 'Soft, wet, warm,' swirled around his mind in a whirlwind of lust and pleasure as he sank into her further, burying his cock fully inside of her.
"I, uh, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to, uh, last," Spencer admitted with a small, embarrassed laugh. (Y/N)'s only response was to roll her hips against his, drawing a surprised moan from his throat.
"I honestly don't care," she panted, "I just need you to fuck me." She looked at him with a gaze that drove him absolutely mad with lust. He pulled his hips back and began fucking her with slow but moderately hard thrusts, both of them moaning as they locked their lips together again. She met his thrusts with her own movements and brought her hands back up to tale her fingers in his hair. She tugged at it gently and he moaned and started fucking her faster in response.
"Such a good girl for me, kitten," he purred into her ear. Each moan that fell from her lips pushed him closer and closer to the edge, until he was teetering at the point of no return. "You ready for me to fill you up, baby?" She moaned and nodded in response.
Her nails dug into his shoulders and he felt her pussy begin to flutter around his cock as her second orgasm took her by surprise and ripped through her body. Loud moans spilled from the both of them as Spencer felt himself tip over the edge and stilled with one final thrust inside of her. His cock pulsed as it pumped all of his cum into her.
Once he had pulled out of her he went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the warm water before walking back out. He knelt in front of (Y/N) and began to gently clean her up. When he was finished he planted a sweet kiss on one of her thighs before tossing the rag into the laundry basket. He crawled back into bed next to her and laid down on his back.
"You're too far away," he pouted at (Y/N) and held his arms out. She moved up and settled happily within them, resting her head on his chest and nuzzling gently. He began playing with her hair and sighed happily before muttering a soft, "I love you, (Y/N)."
"Love you, too, Spence," she mumbled, already half asleep.
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not an act [tomblyth x actress!reader]
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[summary]: tomblyth x actress!reader|anon request| You and Tom reveal true feelings for eachother one day on your movie set and months later you finally decide to hard launch your relationship.
[warnings]: 18+, MDNI, age gap [22+29], language,
[wc]: 2k
[note]: thank you for the request!! it was so fun writing something a bit different! It’s kinda short but wtv :)
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You’d been filming this movie for weeks now. Scenes were pretty tame so far, what you’d expect from a romcom. Picnics, breakups, standing out in the rain with nothing but shivering bones and a love confession.
Your co-star wasn’t too bad either. You were working with Tom Blyth, an attractive Britis h actor who had been in a few movies before you. He was much more experienced with this whole thing. While every aspect of the movie making process excited you, Tom was much more accustomed.
You sat in your trailer, sipping hot tea while checking your schedule for the day. The warm liquid slid down and soothed your throat from the scene work of the day prior. Your quiet was soon interrupted by a sharp tapping at the door.
You lifted your head. “Come in.” You called.
The assistant director, Amy walked in, clipboard in hand, hair in a loose knot at the base of her neck. She looked frazzled- but to be fair she always did.
“Good morning, Amy.” You smiled, placing down your tea and coffee on the little kitchenette counter that took up a good portion of the trailer’s interior.
Amy gave you a brief smile, whipping out her clipboard so it was in front of her. She lifted one of the paper’s, reading something then met your gaze again.
“We’re doing the sex scene today.” She said, scribbling a note on one of her papers.
“What?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned to pick up your schedule again. Your eyes skimmed it quickly, not seeing any words alluding to a sex scene anywhere.
“Amy, I don’t have that on my schedule..” You said looking up from your paper in confusion.
When you looked up Amy was hurriedly typing away on her phone, preoccupied. She didn’t seem to hear you or your concerns.
You cleared your throat. “Amy.”
Amy’s eyes shot to you, wide and attentive. “Yes love?” She said, though you knew her mind was on something else.
You held up your schedule, displaying it for her. “I don’t see that a sex scene is scheduled to film anywhere on here.”
Amy gave you a bored look, almost like she was just remembering how new you were to the movie making process.
“Yes- well, plans change. So get your robe on and get to wardrobe and hair and makeup.” With that her phone rang, so she placed it up to her ear and walked out of your trailer without another word.
You were left speechless, schedule still held up. You put it down, anxiety starting to bubble in your gut. You’d never filmed an explicit scene before. You knew when you auditioned for the film there was a sex scene but you were so eager to have a big break that you agreed to anything.
Your mind then drifted to Tom.
A sex scene. With him.
You couldn’t deny the fact that he was absolutely gorgeous- the way most Hollywood actors were. The director had said you and Tom’s chemistry was impeccable, so working with him was always pretty lax. Sometimes you’d find yourself blushing or giggling with him and realize- you weren’t acting. Tom was the type of guy that could make anything a joke and you liked that about him.
You would totally hit on him more if it weren’t for- well- the age gap. That was the only factor that was constantly bringing you back to reality. While Tom was 29 you were a whopping 22. You didn't even start drinking legally till this year. You doubted that Tom would even want a relationship with someone so young anyways.
You sighed, grabbing the fluffy white robe that hung neatly on the door of the bathroom and slipped it on. This was your job.
You pulled on some shoes as well and opened the creaky door of your trailer, the summer air instantly warming your face.
The romcom took place at a beach house. Two people, Tom and you, find themselves to have had a booking mishap where they mistakenly have to share a beach cottage on vacation. They hate each other at first, but then obviously through sharing a long beach vacation they end up falling in love. You doubted a situation like that could ever occur, but hey- that’s the fun of movies right?
You made it to the wardrobe, where they gave you a nice light blue bikini and a sarong. Next you headed to hair and make up where they styled your hair in waves along with light minimal makeup.
Finally, you stepped down the steep steps of the makeup trailer and walked along the sand to the beach cottage. It was a cute little thing- nice and quaint, full of natural light, secluded. As you walked to the house you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.
You knew the basic rundown of the scene. Tom’s character sees your character getting ready to go to the beach. Unable to reach her back to lather with sunscreen, she asks Tom’s character to help her. Tom’s character does so- (the tension unbearable at this point) and then boom, what do you know? Now he’s kissing the shit out of her, as she pulls him into bed.
Of course you’d kissed Tom so far throughout this movie but picturing him on top of you was a thought that could make you blush.
You arrived at the house and props were already setting the area. You walked in and made your way to the bedroom where you spotted Tom getting a rundown of the scene from an intimacy coordinator. When you walked in, Tom's eyes flicked to you.
He seemed to be surprised- or was that impressed? You couldn’t read his expression, but all you knew is that the bikini you had to wear definitely flattered you.
“Sorry I’m a bit late- I had no idea we were filming this scene today.” You said breathlessly. The intimacy coordinator waved a dismissive hand.
“You're okay, I just started to go over everything.”
You then stood next to Tom as the intimacy coordinator gave a whole spiel about how the scene would play out. It was simple enough, a lot like how most sex scenes would go.
Towards the end she directed her gaze to you. “Now, in this scene we were thinking of having your breasts exposed, is that alright? I know on your contract you said you were okay with it but I just would like to double check.”
You opened your mouth, thinking. Finally you nodded. “Yes that’s fine.”
“Great!” The coordinator smiled. “Now that you guys are all set I’ll go let the director know we’re ready.” She then walked off leaving Tom and I alone.
You glanced at him, nervous, but reassured at the fact you were both professional.
“Nice bikini.” Tom said, glancing at you. Your cheeks warmed at the compliment.
“Thanks.. nice shorts.” You nodded looking down at the Hawaiian print swim shorts he was sporting at the moment. Tom chuckled, running his hands through his brown hair.
“Do you… wanna practice the scene?” You asked, tilting your head to look up at him. You could’ve sworn you saw a hint of blush in his cheeks.
“Sure.” He gulped, nodding. “The scene starts up against the wall.” He said slowly, taking your hand and guiding you.
“..Like this?” You whispered, as Tom gently pinned your wrists above your head. You dipped your head staring up at him through your lashes, like you would’ve done if the cameras were rolling.
“Perfect.” He responded in a low voice.
“Now I arch… like this.” You said quietly, extending your back, so your torso was pressed against his, wrists still held securely above your head. Tom took a shuttered breath.
“Now what?” You asked innocently looking up at him. You knew damn well what came next, but you wanted to hear it coming from his perfect lips.
“This.” He murmured, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. You couldn’t suppress the feelings of lust in your body as he kissed you. His lips were soft- so soft. Molded perfectly to yours as if they were always meant to be connected. Though the kiss was nice, you could tell he was holding back.
When you broke from the kiss you looked up at him. Feeling bold you slipped your hands out of the light hold he had on them and cupped his face.
“I’m not acting.” You murmured.
Tom’s eyes widened slightly, then softened. His lips pulled into a small smile.
“Thank god- me neither. Now let me do this for real.” He growled.
He pressed up against you, taking his lips onto his own again, kissing you rough and passionate. His tongue slipped into your mouth, meeting your own. Your body felt hot at the sensation. There were definitely sparks, and you knew this was only the beginning.
—— 6 months later ——
“Baby- I’m home.”
You heard the familiar voice of Tom, from your apartment’s front door.
“I’m on the couch!” You called back as you lounged on the plush white sofa that sat in your living room. You lifted your head to see a smiling Tom, his hair all tousled from the outside weather.
He immediately sat down next to you and practically tackled you as he took you into his arms. You laughed as you tried to push him off playfully.
“You're crushing me!” You squealed, trying to wriggle out from underneath him.
“Good.” He laughed. You felt Tom squeeze you again, kissing up your body. Finally he let go, leaning back, a love drunk smile on his face.
“So I’ve been thinking…..” Tom prompted, taking one of your hands.
“That’s not good.” You replied playfully. Tom chuckled and squeezed your hand, enjoying your little jokes.
“Seriously though- so you know how our movie premiere is in a few weeks?” He asked, eyes meeting yours.
You nodded. You’d finished filming almost 3 months ago. Finally the movie was close to its release day. You were both excited and nervous for it to come out. You really hoped that it was received well by the public.
Tom looked down at your hands that were wrapped in his own.
“I really want to be by your side on the carpet.”
You hesitated for a moment. “Tom- that’s very much in public.”
He looked up at you. “I know…”
You sighed. “You know how I feel about this… the media.. I mean- I can already picture the things they would say about you dating someone younger than you..”
“Hey.” Tom said calmly, taking your face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks in a calming manner. “I totally get what you're saying, and I’m fine if you don’t want to.. but I just want to let you know, I’m ready. I’m ready for the world to know about how much I adore you.”
Your heart thumped in your chest at his words as heat flooded your face. He always knew what to say.
“I want to Tom.. I do… I love you.” You whispered. You then let out a low sigh. “It’s just.. It seems so scary to drop this news in front of the whole world at the premiere..”
Tom gave you a reassuring smile. “We could post a selfie right now- drop the news.”
Your eyes brightened at the idea. It did seem safer to share the news of your relationship from the comfort of your own home. You nodded and nestled closer to Tom as he pulled out his phone, opening the camera app.
You turned your head to kiss his cheek and he snapped a picture. You looked at the smiling photo of Tom and your pose, feeling more confident about the idea.
“Post it.” You smiled, nestling closer into him.
With a quick click of a few buttons Tom posted the photo to his Instagram story. He then placed his phone down and kissed you.
“I don’t care what anyone says- I love you.” He whispered.
“I’ll love you forever.” You whispered back, kissing him again. You felt nervous of course about the fact that your relationship with Tom was now public, but also excited for all the new experiences to come.
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leaderwonim · 2 days
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unconditional love. ✧ park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: bittersweet fluff, coming of age angst
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you liked park sunghoon, you truly did. he was kind, intelligent, and had that soft introverted persona on the outside.
when you got to know him, he became the most funny and loudest person to ever exist, which had your heart doing backflips.
it wasn’t him that was the issue. it was you. you always had commitment issues, never being able to settle down because of your past pulling you behind. i mean—how could anyone ever like you? you felt as thought you were too loud, too annoying, too irritable, just too much.
despite your brain constantly bringing you down, park sunghoon loved you. he loved every single piece of you, the way you’d blow your perfect hair out of your face as you concentrated on the textbook in front of you, the way your eyebrows would furrow when you didn’t quite catch a question or answer, the way you’d prop your head onto your knees as a way to comfort yourself.
god, park sunghoon swore you were the one. he didn’t care that his friends warned him about your earned title of being a ghoster when it came to relationships, he didn’t care that it felt like he was constantly putting in more effort than you.
as long as he’s got you, he doesn’t care. so how did the two of you end up in this situation?
“i don’t get it,” sunghoon frowns, “what did i do wrong?”
“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say exasperatedly, “in fact, you were perfect sunghoon. you were everything i wanted and more—it’s just me.”
park sunghoon hated the classic it’s me not you excuse when it came to situations like these. but because it’s you, he lets it slide, even though he already feels the tears coming.
“i don’t want to hurt you any longer, hoonie. you have to understand i’m ending this because i care about you too much to put you through hell.”
sunghoon solemnly nods, knowing whatever he’ll say won’t change anything, that it’s already too late and you’ve already made up your mind.
it’s cruel, he thinks. life. how it could be so depressing and meekly all at once.
it wasn’t until a year later that sunghoon and you crossed paths again. you two were now sophomores in college, and had even attended the same university.
you had gotten a boyfriend, finally deciding to settle down after maturing and realizing how much of a piece of shit you were to all the boys at your high school.
his name was heeseung and he had treated you like a princess, reminding you of how sunghoon used to treat you back in senior year.
now here you were, sitting on one of the university steps with your head hung low. your parents had given you the call about them divorcing, right in the middle of your sophomore year. you were miles away, and was heartbroken knowing your family was splitting in two without you being there physically to support them.
“hey, you okay?”
you knew that voice better than anyone.
“hoon?” you sniffle. “i’m sorry—why am i even calling you that.”
“it’s okay.” he reassures you, patting your back as he takes a seat. “what’s wrong?”
“parents are getting divorce,” you scoff. “guess thats karma for all the things i put you through.”
“don’t say that.” sunghoon gently wipes away your tears, frowning when he sees more appear.
“you shouldn’t even be comforting me, i treated you like shit sunghoon, i got a new boyfriend right after i said i couldn’t settle down with you.”
“who cares?” sunghoon says, and for the first time, you don’t see the romantic love he used to have in his eyes for you. “we’re young! of course you’re going to find other people.”
you’re in awe at the maturity sunghoon is displaying. you knew it took a lot of courage for him to do so.
“why are you being so nice, sunghoon?”
“the world is already cruel, yn.” sunghoon sighs. “so therefore, i won’t be.”
and although his words won’t stop the divorce of your parents or the sadness filling your chest, it makes you feel a tad bit lighter, knowing that you had someone like park sunghoon in your life.
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starseungs · 2 days
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a dream and a dance. hjs.
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han jisung x gn!reader — dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid. but maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.
genre/s — fluff, pinch of angst, post-grad au(?) • 2.0k words
warning/s — alcohol, setting is in a nightclub, life is hard (idk how to explain this)
note — inspired by han's new skz-record: 1,2,3,4,5 ! also i know nothing about nightclubs but this was the theme that came to mind so im just basing off vibes 😭
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Dream while you’re still young—while you still can.
Growing up, that line had always been an integral part of your life. You still remember the first time you heard it; the soft hushes of your beloved grandmother as she handed you a bowl of freshly cut fruit on a particularly hot day. The six-year-old you once were was staring at the person behind the television, starry-eyed, as you studied the figure’s actions with intent. You could faintly recall a question being asked in that hushed living room, something along the lines of whether or not you found what they were doing interesting. It was a hazy memory for detailed descriptions, but you could imagine your younger self positively replying with an excited squeal, one fit for a child of that age, which would’ve been followed by the line that you’d have kept in your heart for the rest of your life.
As one would, you’ve cycled through your fair share of these so-called dreams in the duration of your early lifetime. There was a time in third grade where you made up your mind to become a science teacher—the thought quickly being replaced just a mere two years later when you found a sudden interest in becoming a chef. Sixth grade you talked big for their age, claiming that they would open their own restaurant after graduating culinary school, despite not knowing a single thing about cooking other than all the hours spent bingeing MasterChef. You would always get a laugh out of the memory, knowing that it, too, was but a short-lived dream of a young mind still easily impressed by the world around them.
The pattern of switching life aspirations continued past elementary, and throughout your hectic high school years. With the constant new experiences you faced day to day, it was inevitable that eventually you would start seeing everything in a different light. It was part of the maturing process, you’d come to realize a few years later—getting hit by the epiphany that you no longer went through your 24-hour cycle the same way you did back when you were ten. It was a bittersweet revelation, one that ended with you looking up old shows you used to watch and playing episodes until the sunrise before forcing yourself out of bed to get ready for class. 
That wasn’t the first time you pulled an all-nighter, but it was the first one that made you feel calm throughout the day despite severely lacking sleep. 
College came around, and now you had to face yet another hurdle in your journey: admitting that you had absolutely no idea what you were doing anymore. You were attending university—check. You were in a program you personally chose—check. You had a decent social life—check; or maybe half a point, since you didn’t exactly have much time to hang out with any of them, instead opting for promises of catching up that were slowly building in number but barely decreasing. Before you knew it, the degree life was slowly eating all of the dreams that were left inside of you, leaving you with a semi-paved path completely devoid of color. What was once a garden littered with numerous flowers of the rainbow now had wilted into dehydrated brownish hues, layed lifelessly beside the narrow road.
Perhaps your grandmother was right. Dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid.
Still, you pushed through, just to see the end. There was no use turning back when you had already crawled your way up this high. All that was left for you if you did was a fall so hard that you doubt you’d even be able to recover. The image alone made you shiver, prompting you to lift the glass of liquor towards your mouth, letting the sip travel down your throat and feeling the faux warmth it provided. Your eyes shifted to the clock propped up against the bar counter’s wall, watching the hands tick at a uniform pace. It was weird knowing that time always stayed steady. These days, it seemed all over the place—sometimes slowing, sometimes speeding. At this particular moment, it was like a flowing stream. 
What kind of pace it was, you weren’t too sure. 
What you did know, though, was that the numbers on the clock were barely visible; bright neon LED lights being the only thing illuminating the dark room they called a nightclub. The speakers were blasting some upbeat pop song, entertaining the crowd trying to lose themselves on the dance floor. You could only watch from your bar stool as a girl trips over thin air, obviously a little too inebriated, before getting caught by her friend, who was now fussing over her drunken state. 
Burning liquid passed your tongue as you took another sip of your drink. Unlike that girl, you went to this place alone and on your own accord. In your mind, you contemplated why you chose to be here instead of a peaceful bar that didn’t involve a DJ and a dancefloor—but this works too. Maybe a part of you wanted to experience the thrill one last time before adult life completely takes a toll on you, so who were you to deprive yourself of the wish? Your university days had already ended just a few hours ago, with you stepping on stage to get your diploma. It wasn’t a crime to let yourself have fun after all the sacrifices you made for the sake of your damned future. 
And so you continued to watch—getting lost in the sea of bright lights and the crashing waves of your thoughts, before a familiar voice snapped you out of the trance you put yourself in.
“What are you doing here, looking all miserable like that?”
You blinked owlishly at the face that entered your line of sight. A face that was very recognizable to you, despite the undoubtedly long time you’ve gone without seeing it.
“Han Jisung?”
“The one and only,” Jisung grins. 
“Wow,” you breathed out, completely taken aback at the situation. “I haven’t seen you since our first year of uni! How have you been?”
You and Jisung used to be in the same major before he dropped out right before the start of your second year to pursue music. It would be an absolute lie if you said you didn’t miss him, especially since he was the first friend you ever made in university. You could still recall the moment he approached you in a class like it was yesterday—the Jisung of four years ago scrambling to take a seat after barely just beating the professor entering through the front door. The image of the freshly turned nineteen-year-old panting desperately evoked your concern, causing you to stare at him a little longer than necessary. But it wouldn’t be Jisung if he wasn’t observant, so he returned the stare without an ounce of shame and followed with a question if you had any spare water he could drink.
Luckily, your water bottle had just been filled a few minutes before class started, and thus a beautiful friendship was born.
Jisung took his hands out of his pockets before taking a seat at the empty bar stool to your right. “Life’s been great! Two semesters were enough for me to realize that the academic life just wasn’t for me,” he chuckles. “Oh, and congrats on graduating, by the way!”
You couldn’t help the small smile that found its way to your face at his greeting. “You knew?”
“Ah,” Jisung exclaims, leaning forward to rest his arms on the long table in front while still making eye contact to cement his presence in the conversation. “I attended the ceremony earlier, actually. You know—for Hyunjin and Seungmin. I also watched you stand on stage. That’s why I’m genuinely surprised to see you here like this.”
He looks around for a bit before returning to face you. “Where are your friends?”
You shrugged carelessly, not too bothered with the implication. “Not a clue,” you say with a light chuckle. “Probably out celebrating with their families—or maybe even with each other. Either way, I didn’t get an invite, but I already expected that.”
Jisung simply nods at your reply, and his lack of a reaction amused you more than it should. “And you? Out with Thing 1 and Thing 2?”
“Damn, they still call Seungmin and Hyunjin that? My legacy stood strong, huh?” Jisung barked out a hearty laugh before gesturing somewhere to the side of the club. “But yeah, our group’s over there in one of the sofa cubicles. You can join us if you want; it’s your day too, after all. We should be celebrating!”
You waved his offer away politely. “It’s fine, Jisung. I’m sure they wouldn’t want me crashing in. We’re not even close enough to do that.”
Jisung paused to think for a moment, his hand rising up to support his chin. Your eyes guiltily wander a bit higher, stopping at his rosy lips for a brief second before quickly going back to glare at your glass of liquor. 
Admittedly, you once had a crush on the man beside you. Han Jisung was one of the more attractive individuals on campus back then, along with the rest of his friend group. The lingering gazes of people weren’t foreign to you, as you had your fair share of experiences with them when you used to hang out with him. Jisung was simply someone who caught others’ attention, whether it was intentional or not. Of course, you weren’t exempt from that notion. The only difference was that he was a good friend you didn't want to risk losing and that you weren’t interested in dating at that moment. Romance was another dream of yours you couldn’t reach, no matter how much you yearned for it. And so you buried your feelings in a grave, eventually getting forgotten once he left your life.
You could only hope that a zombie apocalypse doesn’t start soon.
“Hm, alright,” he eventually chimes. “I’ll leave you be, soon. But, on one condition.” It was your turn to ponder over his words. 
“And what’s your condition, Han?”
Jisung attempts to hide the way he fidgets with his fingers, which you painfully caught on to too fast for your liking. He took a few more seconds to collect himself before sitting up straight and turning towards you to shyly say, “Dance with me?”
Your eyes widened into saucers, not believing what you had just heard. It was in an attempt to calm your racing heart that you accidentally froze into silence, your brain already deciding to keep 911 on standby in case you stopped breathing altogether. You internally cursed yourself for feeling a faint hope spark back in your heart, wishing for the romance you never let yourself indulge in. This wasn’t the time, nor was it the place, that you thought was appropriate to rekindle your teenage wishes. 
Unfortunately, your lack of a response made Jisung inhale audibly, seemingly preparing himself to bolt away in embarrassment—if only you hadn’t noticed his actions too, the year of friendship coming back to you to recognize his habit. You quickly willed yourself to spit out any words you could.
"Well, that’s sudden,” you shakily voiced out, but decided to lighten the awkward situation with a cough. “What, think I’m hot now after gaining a few more years?”
Jisung exhaled in relief. “Not exactly,” he rubs the back of his neck, “you were already hot from the beginning.” You roll your eyes at his answer.
“Haha. You think you’re so hilarious, Jisung.”
“That, I do,” he smirks, regaining his confidence. Jisung lifts a hand towards you, opening his palm in an offering gesture. “So, what about that dance?”
You scoffed good-naturedly before taking his hand, pulling him up his seat to drag the two of you towards the center of the establishment that was still as chaotic as you left it earlier.
“Make sure you show me a good time, Jisung.”
“Oh, you won’t be disappointed, Y/N.”
Maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.
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mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶
@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix
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leighsartworks216 · 3 days
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I Was Hoping You'd Find Me Here
Harvey x gn!Farmer
Inspired by how Harvey goes from saying "I was hoping you wouldn't find me here" to "I was hoping you'd find me here" after marriage when you find him in the hedge maze. Y'all when I say I dropped everything out of nowhere, actual *hours* after getting that line, to write this, I mean it. Also not proofread bc as soon as I finished the sex-repulsion started rearing it's ugly head so if there're any typos lemme know lol
SMUT BELOW THE CUT
Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, hand jobs, blow job mention, anxiety, embarrassment, blood mention, praise kink, slight dom/sub
Word Count: 1,863
Masterlist
AO3
"I was hoping you'd find me here." Bright blush illuminated Harvey's face even in the shadow of the looming hedges.
The farmer smirked. "Oh, were you?"
They pressed closer into his space, until the leaves behind his back were catching on the fabric of his green jacket, rustling with the disturbance of his weight. He nearly leapt out of his skin when their fingers curled around his belt loops, pulling him closer.
In the shadows of the moonlight, smirking like a cat staring down its prey, he could almost imagine them being a vampire. He gulped thinking about their teeth on his neck, biting down until they drew blood. And the hot press of their tongue lapping it up.
"What are you thinking about, darling?"
Their eyes glimmered like they knew exactly what he'd just been picturing in his mind. He felt warmth reach the tips of his ears and travel down his neck. He wasn't a stranger to intimacy, but he was all too aware of their location, and Maru just around the corner.
His spouse granted him the mercy of not having to answer as they slotted their lips over his, nipping at his lower lip. It only reignited the thoughts from before. He groaned softly, cupping their cheek and leaning into the kiss. They tasted like the breakfast he cooked for them that morning with their produce. Their skin was dusted with a fine layer of dirt, no doubt from tending to the fields before the end of the season. His thumb began brushing it away without thought, his other hand sliding up their arm to cradle their neck.
He gasped, eyes shooting wide open as the buckle of his belt loosened. The smirk from before was now a soft grin, sweet like their fresh maple syrup. “Do you want me to stop?” they whispered.
Everything in his mind said yes. They were in public for Yoba’s sake! Everyone in town was here. There was no telling when somebody could enter the maze and stumble upon them. People who were his patients, who knew him professionally, and the very few who knew him more personally.
He glanced over their shoulder.
They were in the dark… And everybody who wanted to do the maze was already in here, lost somewhere out of earshot… His only concern was Maru, but even she wouldn’t come this way unless she had reason to.
The farmer waited patiently, listening to his frantic heart as he made up his mind. Their hands were still, ready to finish undoing his belt, or to help readjust it back in place. If he asked, they’d grab his hand and drag them back home, back to bed in a mess of sloppy kisses and whispered praises.
“Harv?”
He blinked. With another anxious swallow to tamp down his fears, he kissed them again softly. “I want this,” he muttered against their lips. “I-I’ll try to be quiet.”
They kissed him back sweetly. “Good boy.”
The pet name immediately sent chills down his spine, emboldened by his belt being fully undone and his trousers being unbuttoned. It wasn’t long before their hand pushed into his pants and wrapped around his hardening cock. He keened as quietly as he could manage into their mouth. They happily swallowed up the sound with another kiss.
Their thumb stroked over his slit, spreading the beads of precum already leaking from him. He felt a bit silly, truth be told, like a teenager who snuck out to see his partner in the dead of night, hiding under school bleachers to make out. It made him feel young again. He could almost imagine himself when he was younger, head still set on becoming a pilot despite everything going against him, with a paramour of his own, on a secret, late-night outing.
Though, his secret paramour being his spouse, who chose them despite every other eligible bachelor and bachelorette who pined for their affections, made this even better than in his fantasies.
They pulled away to kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Can you be quiet for me, baby?”
He nodded before his mind even fully comprehended the question.
Their kisses trailed further along his jaw, nipping just under his jaw where any marks wouldn’t be so easily seen. (If he were shorter, anyway.) They languidly pumped his cock in their fist as they loosened his tie next, fluidly unbuttoning the first and second buttons with nimble fingers and pushing his collar aside. Wet, open-mouthed kisses decorated his clavicle. Their tongue dipped in the hollow of his throat, before sucking over his Adam’s apple. When he swallowed, they grinned against it.
He bit his lip to remind himself to be quiet, breathing heavy through his nose as they unbuttoned a few of the middle buttons in his dress shirt and pressed their hand to his stomach, sliding around to his sides.
He shivered again. Their hands were calloused from farming for almost two years straight, rough and yet so gentle with him.
They squeezed the base of his dick before pumping around the head a few times. He whimpered, clamping a hand over his mouth to stop any further sounds from slipping out. If he could, he’d be fully leaned up against the hedge, using it for support as they worked him with as much ease as they ran the farm. Unfortunately, to do so would be to fall into the branches shrouded in the mess of dark leaves.
They kissed back up to his ear, nibbling the lobe, teasing the flesh with one of their canines. He sighed shakily as the thought of vampirism shot to the forefront of his mind again.
“Where do you want to cum, baby?” They whispered against the helix of his ear. “In my hand?” They accentuated the words by dragging their middle finger along the underside of his cock, along the thick, sensitive vein. “Or my mouth?” They sucked his lobe into their mouth, swirling their tongue along it.
They were so close, they could hear and feel the effect they had on him. His heart was racing so fast and loud in his chest, he would have worried it was sounding like a drum throughout the whole town, calling everyone to their location, had he the mind for it. Instead, all he could think about was images of kissing them like a madman as he finished in their hand. Or the feeling of their hair in his hand as they swallowed around his cock, milking him until he was utterly spent. For as much as he would have loved seeing them on their knees before him, looking up at him, highlighted only by the moon in this dark alley of the maze, he feared it would completely destroy his ability to be quiet. Already, he was fighting to stay hushed, when all they’d done is touch and kiss him.
He pulled his hand from his mouth, shaking as he decided his answer. “H-Hand,” he breathed. “P-Please, honey, let me cum.”
They pushed their face into his hand to move it out of the way without having to stop feeling the hair on his chest or trailing down his stomach, or the soft fat on his sides. “I will, darling.” They kissed him long and sweet, but his mouth chased for more and more, passionate and needy as he cupped both their cheeks and pulled them closer, closer, closer.
He moaned and whimpered against their lips as they jerked him off faster. The sounds rumbled low in his throat, like a beast within him was being drawn out with their ministrations. They coaxed his mouth open with their tongue, the bitter taste of coffee mixing with their sweetness. The concerns about being silent slipped his mind entirely as he fast approached his orgasm. They diligently muffled his beautiful sounds, their own mind flooded with love and adoration for the man they chose to marry. Their wonderful, nerdy doctor.
His breath caught in his throat sharply. His hips bucked mindlessly as his cock twitched in their hand. They covered his tip with their palm, stroking just under the head with their thumb as they caught the hot strands of cum. As his dick softened, he sighed shakily against their mouth.
They pulled away first, making sure they got as much of his spend as they could before pulling their hand from his pants. Their hand left his shirt to cup his cheek. He smiled when he felt them trying to fix his mustache.
“Good?”
He nodded. “Really good,” he assured them. A new wave of blood rushed to his cheeks as he noticed their hand, awkwardly held and covered in semen. He removed himself from their hold to fish around his pockets for a packet of tissues. He pulled a couple out of the plastic and cleaned their hand, wrapping the soiled tissues in another protective layer of tissue. When he looked back up at their face, tucking the packet back into his pocket, they had a big, dopey smile on their face. “What?”
They laughed. “You, that’s what. I just didn’t expect you to have tissues.”
“I’m a doctor,” he offered as an explanation with an embarrassed chuckle.
“You’re adorable.” He began rooting around his pockets again. “Hand sanitizer?”
He must’ve been as red as a ripe tomato when he pulled out the small bottle of sanitizer. But they just chuckled and held out their hands, diligently rubbing it between each finger and down their wrists. As they did, he began putting himself back together. He rebuttoned his shirt, tucking it back into his pants to give the illusion that nothing happened. Then he zipped, buttoned, and buckled his trousers once more. His spouse finished cleaning their hands just in time to fix his tie, pressing a kiss to his chin when they finished.
“Ah, thank you, for that, by the way,” he stammered.
They adjusted his collar and smiled warmly at him. “Of course. It was my pleasure.” They grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the alley. “If you wanna wait out there, it shouldn’t take me long to get the golden pumpkin.”
He tugged on their hand, pulling them to a stop just before the entrance of the maze. His heart began racing again as he tried not to regret what he was about to say. “C-Can I go with you?”
“Are you sure?”
He looked down the path, toward where Maru meandered about, trying to gather her sense of direction. It was lit well enough… He tried to ignore the grabby hands peeking around the corner.
The farmer squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to, Harvey. I know you don’t like scary things.”
“I…” He took a deep breath, looking at them once more. “I want to. You make me want to be brave.”
They beamed up at him, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Okay, if you say so. Don’t let go of my hand, right?”
He held on a bit tighter. “Right.”
Together, they marched into the haunted hedge maze.
Harvey stuck around with Abigail until the farmer came back with the prize.
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hey can you write for Cillian being jealous over his wife/fiance / girlfriend who's 20 years younger after her co worker was flirting with her in a party. After they headed home they had a fight and a hate/rough/ jealousy fuck but ended up hugging eo like nothing happened because it was the first fight fuck they had and they enjoyed it
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Thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!
Warnings: age gap (20 yr age difference), rough sex, jealousy, p in v
After finally wrapping up the movie you were filming, Cillian arrived with you to an after party in celebration held at the studio. He had been so proud of his brilliant, beautiful wife and was there to show his support.
The evening carried on quite well, the writers and producers carrying on casual conversation with Cillian and asking of his filming endeavors and what he thinks makes a script flourish and stick out with great potential to become a huge hit.
After a few drinks at the bar, he excused himself to the restroom, giving you a peck on the cheek.
That was when Jake approached you. He was around your age range, early twenties and he was a close friend of yours ever since the first of filming. It was rare he was dressed up and seeing him so was quite a breath taker, he was quite handsome.
“Hey! There’s the star!” He welcomed you with open arms into a warm hug, causing you to smile widely. You had never been complimented so much in a day and honestly it was very wonderful and made you feel appreciated, not that Cillian didn’t but it was nice to hear from co workers and strangers too.
“Did you see the scrapbook Carly made of some fun moments we had on set? She really made it for you with it being your first film an all.” When you shook your head no, Jake walked you over to the table.
Cillian exited the bathroom only to find you not where he expected you to be, spotting you over by the city view window, Jake standing next to you with his hand settled on your lowerback.
Making his way over, he could hear Jake make a comment to you about how out of all other actresses he’d worked with, you had been the best. The comment made you smile and giggle, causing a deep discomfort to settle over Cillian like an impending storm.
“Oh, honey hi! Jake was just showing me the scrapbook Carly made, so sweet of her isn’t it?” Cillian smiled and nodded pleasently, hiding the building jealousy as Jake swayed closer to you. As a man himself Cillian knew that Jake was looking at you with lustful, scheming eyes before turning his attention to him.
“You have a hell of a wife here, quite talented she is, and beautiful might I add.” Jake winked toward you, causing your cheeks to burn an amber shade of red while Cillian stood there with his eyebrows raised that this man had the audacity to make a such a motion in front of him. 
Lapping his tongue over his lip and chuckling darkly, his arm flexed behind your shoulders as a way of claiming his territory, looking Jake directly in the eyes.
“I’m well aware what I have. I feel I must inform you, your zipper’s down and you lusting over a married woman makes you look quite pathetic and desperate, guess that comes with young age and stupidity. You had her in a scene, fake might I add. I have her daily, now go check your trousers  and yourself little boy before you try hitting on my wife again. We’ll be leaving now.” Embarrassment spread over Jake’s face as he looked around the room, seeing if anyone else noticed.
Cillian grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the party as you yelled goodbyes and thank yous’ to all of your co stars.
He had never acted like this and you were more than pissed at his actions. As an actor himself he should know how to compose himself and realize that you were a grown woman who loved him and never gave him a reason to believe you’d cheat.
The car ride was silent while tensions were high. Shifting your legs, you held the position facing the window not even wanting to make eye contact with Cillian. How could he embarrass you like that? 
Meanwhile he continued driving, knuckles wrapped white and tight around the wheel, jaw clenched in anger.
Arriving home, you bursted through the door in an angered storm, lips pursed in disgust. Cillian simply scoffed, yelling behind you as you climbed the stairs to the bedroom after taking your heels off
“Did you even care that I showed up for you? Cause it looked like you were too wrapped up in Jake’s fucking flirtatious remarks to even notice I was there.” Turning around in fury, you pointed your finger, pushing his chest lightly while you stared at him with venomous eyes.
“Well maybe if my husband wasn’t an insecure little jealous bitch this all could have been avoided, but wait maybe that comes with age like you said to Jake!” Shoving you against the wall with gritted teeth, he pulled his tie off aggressively while wrapping his hand around your throat. Your head bounced back against the sturdy wall.
In a heated wave of anger, Cillian’s eyes flamed like a blue rose set on fire while your eyes bore into his skull with a lustful fury.
Clashing his lips against yours roughly breaking the tension, your hand grazed up the back of his neck pulling him in closer needing to taste him. 
He lifted you off the ground effortlessly as you fumbled with his belt never breaking your lips from his, tongues exploring one anothers, moaning in between kisses.
His cock popped out from the tailored trousers, the thick head leaking with pre cum waiting ever impatiently to be between your wet folds.
“Take me. Go on take me before I-“ Cillian silenced your smirk words with his cock unexpectedly sliding forcefully into your tight hole making you gasp.
“Not so smart now are we love?” He began to plow irelentlessly into your cunt, your breasts falling shamelessly from your dress.
He wanted you to hear you moan, to beg for more because it was only him who you belonged to, only him who could pleasure you in such a memorable way.
Spreading you over the wooden dresser, his strong hands grasped at your thighs, slamming you down onto his cock, filling you with every singular inch of his girthy member.
Something about seeing him fuck you still in his tuxedo sent a thrill up your spine, maybe you needed to argue more if the sex was going to be like this.
Pulling him down, you buried his head in your breasts, ankles tying behind his back, pushing him further inside, as far as you could.
His tongue lapsed at your cleavage before moving to your nipples, sucking like a baby needed it’s bottle, nibbling at the delicate skin.
“Fuck Cil- more!” All of a sudden, the pleasurable thrusts came to a hault. He lifted his head, whispering in your ear with sarcasm.
“I’m sorry, what was that? You need more, from me? Why should I give it to you, you have Jake.”
“Cill, please! Just fuck me you stubborn ass, you know I’m fucking yours.” That’s all he needed to hear, but the thought of Jake’s hands on you still pissed him off.
Your soaked walls clenched to him desperately, squeezing and craving for more friction, a faster pace as your orgasm was nearing closer and closer with each passing second, each power driven ram into your aching cervix.
He didn’t know his wife could be anymore hot, anymore sexy than she was right now before his very eyes.
He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your head back by your hair, causing the once well combed strands to completely fall to ruins.
Your ass bounced back against him, the jiggling motion richocheting against his skin as he pounded into you relentlessly, his cock filling every inch of your dripping cunt.
“Cil-Cil I’m going to-“ You didn’t get to finish your sentence, hands gripping desperately at the sides of the dresser while your orgasm twitched with a majestic feeling of euphoria through your body. Coming completely undone beneath your husband who never failed to ensure you came first.
When he felt the wave of your alluring nectar stream down his shaft, with one last, detrimental pound you felt his cock pulsate inside of you, the stream of his seed watering your uterus. Your moans mixing together in a harmonious end to a fight.
Cillian was like a drug you’d never, ever want to quit.
Standing up, you fixed the strap of you dress, patting the fabric down and wiping the sweat from your forehead while he pulled his pants back up in a now tired haze. 
There was an awkward silence but no further argumentative statements or yelling, like the storm has passed.
“Let’s go to bed yeah?” Nodding, you followed him to bed, curling into his side falling asleep peacefully as if nothing happened.
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coryothesub · 3 days
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Sinful Desires
So I’ve been dabbling in some more kinky / taboo themes lately which prompted me to write this as a special treat no one asked for. Basically I have no excuse for this and sorry if I got any tbosas lore wrong because I haven't read the book
nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / stepmom!reader / stepcest / breeding kink / mentions of underage sex work
You married Crassus Snow as soon as you turned eighteen. Looking back you could say that you were truly in love with the tall, handsome general. However for him you were just a warm body to sleep next to and tight pussy to drown his sorrow after the unfortunate passing of his beloved wife. His decision to remarry had definitely come too soon and you were definitely too young to even understand the implications.
After you received the news of your husband's tragic death, you decided to stay with the Snows, because you simply had nowhere else to go. Just like many others, your family had been torn apart by war and even the house you’d grown up in was now bombed to shreds. Your only options were to be poor or to be poor and homeless so you opted for the first one. 
You were always on good terms with Tigris. Daily struggle to sustain the family had brought you two pretty close especially because you both were forced to do the same unspeakable things just to maintain the food on the table and the roof above your heads.
First you categorically refused to bring her into that, but realizing it was getting harder and harder to make ends meet with your own endeavors and after thousands of silent and desperate “I’ll be fine, if you can do it then I can do it too” you finally gave in and introduced her to some men for whom your ripe age of twenty five was already too old to satisfy their needs.
You both didn't have much choice anyways since Grandma’am simply refused to move into a smaller apartment, let alone leave the Capitol. Apart from that and her other weird quirks she seemed to be a pretty nice lady. At least as far as you knew the right patriotic buttons to push in order to stay on her good side. 
Crassus’ son Coriolanus or Coryo, as Tigris used to call him, didn't seem to like you one bit. He considered you an intruder, an unfair replacement to his mother that did nothing but reminded him of his family's tragedy. 
Over the years Coryo seemed to have learned to tolerate you, mostly because he felt somewhat grateful for all your efforts, but still he remained cold and distant. You didn't particularly mind that, because you had no idea how to raise a young man. You felt pretty happy that he didn't ask you any awkward questions and managed to figure out everything himself. 
Sometimes during his teenage years you noticed Coryo secretly watching you while you were changing or getting ready for a bath. On some occasions he even touched himself while doing it trying to suppress his little moans by biting into his fist. You always knew he was there, but you never confronted him. You knew full well it would make your coexistence very awkward for both of you and frankly you found it pretty amusing.
After all, he was just a silly little boy for you until the time his nineteenth birthday came around. It started even earlier if you thought about it. After Coryo returned from his service in District 12 and got his hands on the Plinths' fortune he turned into a completely different man.
Coryo always had the taste for finer things in life and when he finally got the means to fund it, you only saw him wearing tailored dress suits and perfectly polished shoes. Even his whole posture had changed and when he passed you in the dining room followed by an intoxicating wave of expensive cologne, instead of the anxious malnourished boy you had known for most of your life you saw a fit and handsome young man that reminded you of your late husband so much.
Your run down penthouse was completely refurbished to suit your stepson’s taste and he showered all three of you with lavish presents, encouraging you to throw out your old things.
Finally he could have the life he had always envisioned. And every last memory of your humble existence after the war had to be exterminated and written off into oblivion.
Coryo had become confident, strong and ambitious. Some might say even ruthless. It was hard for Tigris to accept those changes and she grew more distant with her younger cousin. They barely spoke, she was mostly just looking at him with sadness and disappointment in her eyes.
Coryo didn't seem to care about that much. He didn't care about other people's feelings in general. But there was one interesting detail. The colder he became to others, the more delicate and gentle he was with you.
He always wanted to be in your vicinity, lighting your cigarette, opening the door for you or helping you to put on your coat. He always had to do a little something just to remind you he was there. He even pretended to care about your opinion, giving you the most dashing smile every time you seemed to agree with what he had actually already decided.
And the weirdest thing about that all was that he had started to refer to you as “mommy”. He had never called you that before and there was no particular reason for starting it now, especially because it seemed to make Tigris extremely uncomfortable.
And it sounded pretty eerie for your ears too, especially because Coryo always accompanied the word by giving you this one specific look that radiated childish naivety mixed with a hint of pure lust.
It always made your heart skip a beat, especially because in some weird twisted way you wanted it too. The sheer hunger in his icy blue eyes made your pussy tingle and after those interactions you always had to go to your room and touch yourself, your pleasure overshadowed by shame.
After all, you weren’t dead yet, you were just a woman in your early thirties and you hadn't been touched by a man since you had stopped selling your body. But for god's sake he was your stepson! You really needed to find some dick, before things spiraled out of control.
One day you returned to your room after running some errands and found a gift box on your bed. It was adorned with a crimson satin ribbon and a single white rose. You found an envelope laying next to it.
You opened it with trembling fingers, the strong rosy scent of Coryo's cologne filling the air. Inside the envelope there was a card with a few words in your stepson's neat handwriting.
From Coryo to Mommy with love…
You sighed and opened the box, finding a snow white, neatly folded piece of clothing inside. You couldn't really call it a nightgown, it was more like a negligee. You lifted the delicate item against the window, seeing the sunlight pass right through it. Of course it was nearly transparent apart from the exquisite hand made lace embroidery.
Coryo's taste was flawless as ever, you had to admit that, but this had to stop! You were gonna tell him tomorrow. But it wouldn't hurt anyone if you tried it on tonight, right? Just for one night, no one would find out, and you would demand him to return it tomorrow morning.
That night you put Coryo's present on and marveled at yourself in the mirror. It looked like a lacy cloud hugging your naked body so nicely the outline of your feminine curves visible through the sheer fabric. You turned around then moved your hips in a suggestive way flirting with your own reflection in the mirror. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so desirable.
After pairing the negligee with a pair of white cotton panties, you went to bed. Just as you were drowsing off into your sleep, you heard the door creak before someone opened and closed it quietly. You rubbed your eyes and switched on the night lamp just to notice Coryo standing by your bed wearing nothing but his tight white undies and a loose fitting silk robe. His hair wasn't perfectly styled as usual, instead his blonde curls were falling freely around his face.
“Mommy?” He gazed upon you with the most innocent look in his baby blue eyes. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”
Coryo had never slept in your bed, even when he was a young boy often haunted by terrible nightmares, Tigris was always the one who comforted him and sang him to his sleep, you were just sitting on your bed listening quietly until you were sure the boy was alright.
You knew full well what his true intentions were. You had to act like an adult.
“I really don't think it's the best idea, Coriolanus,” you tried to sound strict and inexorable.
“Please, mommy! It's so cold and I can't sleep. I feel embarrassed to go to Tigris and ask her for a lullaby, not to mention we’re not on the best terms right now,” he was looking at you, his blue eyes wide and desperate.
“Please, please, just this one time!”
You sighed deeply and gave him a faint nod.
“Alright, just this time!”
To your surprise Coryo threw the robe off his shoulders and pulled down his underwear, revealing his long, handsome half hard cock, its tip looking so velvety and just as pink as his lovely lips.
You were so caught off guard that you didn't even manage to make any protests before he jumped into your bed and glued himself to your side, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Mommy…” he whispered against the sensitive skin of your neck, making you shiver. “I’ve been having the worst nightmares… About the war, about all the things we had to do to survive. I’ve tried everything to make them disappear, but they keep coming back…”
You knew this was your last chance to stop this, you had to push him away, order him to leave your room immediately and never come back, but instead sinful words of encouragement just spilled out of your mouth.
“It's alright, babyboy! Mommy's here and you're safe with me,” you hummed gently as your hand caressed his golden curls. 
God, this felt so wrong on so many levels especially feeling your stepson's now fully hard cock pressing against your thigh, waiting for what seemed to be inevitable at this point.
“Thank you, mommy, you’re always so good to me,” you heard Coryo say just before feeling his lips on your neck. He kept kissing your soft skin and teasing it with his tongue, you felt your pulse running wild and you knew he probably felt it too.
Coryo's hand, previously resting on your shoulder, was now traveling down, his fingers dove under the lacy fabric of your negligee and started drawing circles around your nipple making your breath speed up.
“Coryo what are you doing?” Your mind still felt as you had to resist the pleasant feeling although your body was enjoying it so much.
He looked at you ever so innocently.
“I read that fidgeting something with your fingers can be really calming,” he said, playing with your nipples and tweaking them gently. “I just wanted to test that theory, it seems like it truly works…”
You just sighed, feeling your whole body filling with the insuperable feeling of pure lust, your nipples were rock hard under Coryo's masterful fingers and you felt a treacherous wetness pooling up in your panties. You hated that your own body was betraying you like that under your stepson's salacious touch.
“Mommy, you have such beautiful breasts…”
You inhaled sharply as Coryo's lips wrapped around your nipple, starting to suck hungrily, while his hand traveled further downwards. It easily found its way between your thighs and dove under the waistband of your soaked panties.
“Oh,” he cooed, dipping his fingers in your wetness. “Mommy really needs her babyboy to help her out, huh?”
“Shut up, Coriolanus!”
You grabbed a fistful of Coryo's curls and pulled him away from titty to smash your lips together in a passionate kiss, he felt so needy and desperate as he was exploring your mouth panting softly as you felt his erect cock pressing to your thigh, leaving a trail of precum from its leaking tip.
“Oh fuck, Coryo,” you whispered his name against his lips feeling him pushing his long slender fingers inside you. Your wet cunt that swallowed them so easily. You were literally dripping around his digits as you felt the embarrassment slowly leaving your body and getting replaced by a feeling of raw insatiable desire.
“I'm here for your mommy,” Coryo whispered, his fingers deep inside your pussy, curling against your soft walls and teasing your sweet spot.
“I will help you fulfill all your needs. That's what family's for right?”
With one swift move you pulled down your panties and crawled on top of him pinning him to the bed and covering his mouth with your hand.
“Don't mention family, you filthy little boy!  If you want mommy to give you a treat, you need to stay quiet, is that clear?”
Coryo nodded and you took your hand away from his mouth, wrapping it around his throat instead. The young man gasped watching as your free hand steadied his rock hard cock at your entrance before you slowly sank down on him, your wet pussy taking his whole length with ease. A soft moan escaped your lips as he stretched out your tight cunt.
You kept your hand on his throat in a tight grip as you started to move at an easy pace, eliciting a series of moans from his lips. Coryo's pupils dilated as he saw your pussy sliding up and down his length making it glisten from your juices.
You tightened your grip around his throat as you sped up your movements enjoying his little gasps as he was fighting for air completely under your control. The sight before your eyes made you impossibly wet and lewd slapping sounds filled the room as you bounced up and down his shaft faster and faster with each movement.
Chasing your own pleasure you let go of Coryo's neck and threw your head back, letting the straps if your negligee slide down your shoulders revealing your lovely tits bouncing up and down as you kept riding your stepson's cock.
Coryo's eyes widened at the sight and he let out a deep groan as your tight walls clenched around his cock, his tip hitting against your sweet spot as you kept moving.
“Oh mommy, you’re making me feel so good,” Coryo spoke, breathing heavily as you were too busy chasing your release to make him keep up with his vow of silence.
“I want to cum inside you, to put a baby in your belly. To make you nice and round full of new life that would make our family complete and strengthen our ties forever.”
In your mind you realized how twisted these words were and that they could actually become true considering that you weren't on birth control since your sex work days but your brains were completely shut off by pleasure as you kept moving up and down Coryo's wonderful dick your manicured nails digging into his smooth pale chest.
Coryo's nostrils flared, watching your boobs bouncing up and down as he felt his climax approaching.
“I can't wait for those beautiful tits to be swollen and full of delicious milk oh oooooh…” he cut himself off, moaning loudly as thick ropes of cum filled your cunt spurting up against your velvety walls.
You rode him through his orgasm and your red nails dug deep into his skin leaving red scratches. After mere seconds you came hard all over his cock and squelching sounds filled the room as your juices were mixing together with his cum. You collapsed on top of your stepson, his cock still inside you and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.
“Just let me stay inside mommy's pussy a little longer,” he whispered. “Don't let the seed go to waste.”
“Fuck you, Coriolanus!” You hissed and bit into his neck using his distraction to wiggle out of his grip and crawl off of him making him whine at the loss of contact.
Coryo didn't put up a fight, he just watched you as you pulled the straps of your negligee back on your shoulders and then pulled you into his arms, wrapping himself around you.
You sighed and brushed a stray curl off his forehead looking into his big sleepy eyes. There was no way of denying the fact that you had just slept with your stepson, especially since you could still feel his heart beating softly against your skin and his cum dripping down your inner thighs.
It was so wrong. But still deep down in your heart in some sick and twisted way it felt so incredibly right.
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Text
A Song of Ice & Shadow
Part 1
A/N: Hello everyone! I’m planning to write an Azriel x Archeron!half-sister reader series, possibly featuring a slow-burn romance and angst. I don’t know how many parts it’s going to have. It begins in ACOMAF chapter 24.
Summary: The eldest Archeron half-sister Y/n hates Fae kind, due to tragic past events. When she unexpectedly visits her sisters, she is met with the very race she hates.
Word count: 2.11K
Being the eldest sibling is not always easy. Y/n knew this firsthand, shouldering the weight of responsibility for her younger sisters from a young age. After their mother’s death, she made the difficult decision to leave her sisters behind and stay with her supposed biological father. It wasn’t because she didn’t share the same father as her sisters; in fact, he loved her like she was his own and never discriminated between them. For the first two years after their mothers death, she stayed with her family, but when her “father” lost his fortune, she knew leaving was the only option. It wasn’t just about lightening their burden by having one less mouth to feed; she also hoped by seeking out her biological father, she could find work and send money back to her family.
Surprisingly, her father welcomed her with open arms, a kindness that caught her off guard considering he had shown little interest in her when she was younger. Despite her initial skepticism, she didn’t question his motives, fearing he might kick her out. With cleverness and father’s help, she managed to pursue higher education, while working to make ends meet. Though her earnings were modest, she’d send whatever she could spare to her family, ensuring they had enough to survive. With Feyre’s help, there was always food on the table.
Y/n’s life was devoid of fun. Between studying, working, sleeping and occasional visits to her family, she had little time for socializing and friends. This isolation was entirely her choice; she distanced herself from others, earning a reputation as being cold, heartless, selfish, and arrogant to those who didn’t know her well. Yet, beneath this exterior, she harbored a deep love for her sisters and would sacrifice anything for their well-being, despite no longer showing them affection after their mother’s death. They understood her silent expressions of care, recognizing that actions spoke louder than words.
One thing everyone knew for certain is that y/n was stubborn. She held fast to her beliefs and opinions, regardless of external influences. Among her sisters, Netsa was the most like her and the one who admired her the most. The two shared the closest bond before she left, but make no mistake, if anyone Nesta feared and obeyed, it was Y/n, knowing she was not one to be crossed.
After Feyre left the mortal realm, her family’s fortune turned, and she finished her education. Consequently, her visits became less frequent, as she immersed herself into her work.
A smile appeared on y/n’s face at the thought of her sisters’ reactions to seeing her after a long time. She decided to surprise them with a spontaneous visit. Unbeknownst to her, another surprise awaited her inside the place she called home.
“Nesta, Elain, I’m home!” y/n announced as she opened the front door of their home.
“Are we expecting someone else?” Rhys whispered to Feyre.
“Nesta, why didn’t you tell me y/n was coming?” Feyre questioned, panic all over her face.
“I didn’t know. She usually sends word before she comes” Nesta claimed.
The conversation between the two sisters earned them a curious, yet worried look from the three males. Nesta stood from chair, hurrying to the door, but she was too late, y/n was now standing in the dining room, the smile dropping from her face and replaced by a shocked expression at the sight before her.
“What is going on?” y/n asked carefully and slowly.
“These are Feyre’s friends. We were not expecting you today” Elain replied.
“Y/n, it’s been a while. I’m so happy to see you” Feyre stood from her seat and hugged her sister, who was reluctant at first but returned the hug.
“You brought Fae-kind into our home?” it was more of a rhetorical question, but Feyre answered anyway.
“Y/n, this is Cassian” she inclined her head to the male with long hair “Azriel” she pointed to the male who y/n could’ve sworn was the most handsome man she’s even laid eyes on “and Rhysand, high lord of the Night Court” Feyre finished introducing.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you” Rhys said with a warm smile.
“I’m sure” y/n sneered, returning her gaze on her sisters “you still haven’t told me what’s going on and why the very same race we despise are now in our living room, dining with us” y/n tried making sense of the situation.
Feyre explained the situation, why they were here, what they needed from the sisters and the threat posed by Hybern.
“So the moment you became fae, you chose to forsake us?” this was all y/n could utter.
“I’d never do that. Me being fae doesn’t change that. It never will. You’ll always be my sister” Feyre assured her.
“If you did, you wouldn’t have brought THEM here. Hatred aside, do you have any idea of the danger you just put Nesta and Elain in?” Y/n turned her hand into a fist, her knuckles as white as they could be, trying to keep her temper in check.
“There was nowhere else to go” Feyre claimed.
“And you were alright with this?” Y/n turned to face her other sisters.
“I wasn’t, but Elain agreed” Nesta informed her.
“Feyre’s right, there-“ Cassian spoke.
“Who are you again?” Y/n glared at him “I’m too tired to deal with this now” she rubbed her temples and said to no one in specific “call me when they’re gone”.
“Uhm, they’re-“ before Nesta could finish the sentence, y/n was already gone “-going to stay for a while” she sighed.
“I take it, this is your eldest sister” Rhys asked.
“I told you she could be intense” Feyre replied.
“That’s one word for it” Cassian expressed and was met with a glare from Nesta.
—-
Thinking they had left, y/n descended the stairs, dressed in her nightgown and robe, seeking out a comforting cup of tea in the quiet atmosphere of midnight. Opening the backdoor leading to their garden, she leaned against the door frame, admiring the stars as she sipped her tea. She took a deep breath appreciating the tranquility and solitude the night provided. She could’ve sworn the shadows moved, but she dismissed it believing it was hallucinations caused by exhaustion from a long trip. Noticing a bright star in the sky, she lifted her cup up and uttered “cheers” a sad smile appearing on her face…
As she was locking the door, she glimpsed a figure in the shadows. This time, unable to dismiss what she saw, she called out “who’s there?”.
At first there was no response but she called out again “I know there’s someone here, so I suggest you come out” she demanded.
Azriel hesitated but complied “I apologize, I did not mean to disturb you”.
“What are you still doing here?” She covered herself with the robe, the gesture did not go unnoticed by Azriel.
“Your gracious sisters allowed us to stay here for a while” he informed her.
“Have they now?” she nodded, clearly displeased by the information she just received “how long are you planning on staying here?”.
“Not long. As soon as the letter is delivered, we’ll be out of your way, I give you my word” he politely said.
“Your word means nothing to me. And if you’re staying at someone’s house, do not sneak up on them” her words as cold as ice.
“I wasn-“ before Azriel could explain, she had left, making his jaw clench in frustration.
The following day, she went downstairs earlier to get some breakfast, but what was early for her, was late for others. Upon entering the kitchen, she found Rhys and Feyre engaged in a conversation with Elain, while Nesta and Cassian bickered over their tea. Azriel was standing in the corner and when he saw her enter, his whole body tensed, and Cassian and Nesta went still
“Good morning” Rhys greeted and was met with silence.
Y/n prepared her breakfast when Feyre approached her “how did you sleep?” Y/n just stared at her sister without saying a word. Once she was done preparing her food, she took it and left without acknowledging anyone’s existence. As Cassian and Nesta resumed their bickering, Azriel finally relaxed, prompting Rhys to speak again “not a good morning, I guess?” He joked.
“Oh believe me, this is a good morning. If you think this was something, then you really don’t want to see her angry” Feyre remarked.
“Is she always like this?” Cassian asked.
“Give her time. She doesn’t like strangers and she most definitely hates Fae-kind” Feyre reminded.
“Yeah, that was clear” Cassian said.
“You’re talking about her like she’s a bad person” Nesta defended.
“Nesta, you know that’s not what I meant” Feyre tried to explain.
“All I’ve seen you do since you got here is criticizing y/n. She’s done nothing wrong” Nesta reminded.
“I’m sorry, but you know how y/n can be”.
“How? All she did was ignore you all, instead of engaging in a pitty argument that would hit your weak spots, and last I’ve known, she does not owe any of you anything. If you’re going to stay in this house, then better respect their owners” Nesta expressed.
“Nesta!” Elain said, clearly displeased with her sister’s tone.
—-
“Can I come in?” Nesta asked permission to enter y/n’s room.
“What is it now?” Y/n opened the door.
“I wanted to spend some time with you”
“Don’t you have guests to entertain?” Y/n crossed her arms.
“Elain and Feyre can deal with them. I’d rather stay here with you”.
“Fiine” y/n rolled her eyes but allowed her sister into her room.
“They already have a bad impression of you” Nesta told her.
“When did I ever care about what people thought of me? Let alone, what male Fae thought of me” y/n chuckled “it bothered you, didn’t it?”.
“Of course it did. I wouldn’t allow anyone to speak badly of you”.
“They’re just words spoken by irrelevant people. When you acknowledge their words, you make them relevant. Remember Nesta, you decide who you give power over you”.
The next day, Feyre, Rhys and Azriel were absent from the kitchen when y/n arrived “oh, for fuck’s sake, how do you two find the energy to fight this early in the morning?” Y/n asked, clearly awoken by the sound of Cassian and Nesta arguing.
“It’s noon” Cassian corrected.
“Whatever. If you’re gonna argue, do it outside. Hearing your voice gives me headaches” y/n uttered.
“And here I thought my voice was soothing” he sarcastically said.
“Don’t. Just don’t!” Cassian’s attempt at humor was met with y/n’s annoyance.
“Rough night?” he asked.
“More like a rough couple of days. Some people clearly don’t know how to be good guests” Y/n started making herself a cup of coffee.
“Well, maybe that’s because some people don’t know how to be polite hosts” he snickered.
“You know what? You’re not worth my time, if you want to argue, you have Nesta. She apparently has the patience for it”.
“Y/n” Nesta called.
“What? You do love arguing” y/n reminded.
“Wow, the two of you in the same house as poor Elain and Feyre, how did they survive?”.
“By knowing when to speak and when to shut up” y/n glared at him, taking her coffee and leaving and he said something.
—-
“What now?” Y/n asked as Feyre called for her sisters “We can leave soon to mail our letter” informing them.
“And this concerns me how?” Y/n asked.
“I-I thought you’d like to go with us”.
“Why would I do that? No, thank you”… “wasn’t there one more of you?” Y/n asked, pretending to just have realized Azriel wasn’t present.
“He had to return early. We had an altercation this morning” Feyre explained.
“Altercation?” Y/n narrowed her eyes,
“It’s nothing”.
“If you’re trying to hide it, then it is something”.
“She was attacked” Rhys claimed.
“What? By whom? And you call THIS nothing?” Y/n started checking her sister for injuries and both males’ eyes widened in surprise.
“I’m fine. I’m not hurt”.
“Who attacked you?”.
“It’s rather a what. She was attacked by a creature called the Attor who was sent by the king of Hybern” Rhys informed her “don’t worry, Az is taking care of it”.
To his surprise, she only nodded.
“I changed my mind. I’m coming with you” y/n announced.
“Don’t tell me it’s because I was attacked” Feyre smirked.
“Oh, shut up!” Y/n nudged her with her shoulder.
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letstalkhockey · 15 hours
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𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
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SUMMARY: Inwhich people change, and so does summer camp. Teenagers all spending summer together; with y/n falling in love with no other than Jack Hughes, will rivalry's and rules keep them apart? Or will status and no other than Jack himself, ruin everything?
WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT *I do not encourage you to go beyond this point if you are sensitive to any further topics. MINORS DNI - Violence, Smut, Indications to smut, Alcohol & substance use, swearing, cheating, mentions to serious topics, etc.
NOTE: Welcome to the Prologue, which is the shortest part to this story. I apologize for not making it longer, but this prologue gives a tiny view into what the whole story will be without spoiling it. 🤍
MASTERLIST: main m.list
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𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙢𝙥 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣; 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚 - 1k+ words
Camp Michigan; my home away from home each summer since the ripe age of 8 years old. Camp Michigan had been where I spent summers, from being a camper, to now, at 16, attending camp and being a camp counselor with others my age who have been attending ever since we were young - and those new. Being at camp had either been the greatest experience of the one month you’d spend out of your two month break. Or the greatest challenge. Each year, a new decision is made. New memories are formed, and even new connections.
Camp michigan consisted of traditions, our annual yearly sleepover in dining hall, the annual late night swim, dodgeball torty - which always included someone getting injured from how competitive some people would be - the annual bonfire to kick-off the beginning, and my favorite, the treehouse, not so much a tradition, but something I created when I was younger. Only in a place where me and a few other members knew of. It was special, and I would always find myself there whenever I needed a break or a good sleep.
Each year it was one or the other, no inbetween, most of the years I've spent attending camp ever since the age of 8 years old, I found myself leaving with memories to last a life time, having spent my summers making them the greatest experiences of my entire life. That was, until the summer i turned 16, one whole year ago from right now; id been 15, getting on the bus for summer camp, my birthday slowly approaching, which had always been spent at camp, the staff would even get the other campers to help with baking a cake; even though each time it would end up in someone’s face, or awfully decorated, it still meant everything to me. We’d even have a huge party to celebrate; as if most of the summer hadn’t already consisted of fun activities, it was another added to the long list.
That was, until the summer I turned 16.
On my 16th birthday, August 14th, nothing. I mean nothing, no cake, no party, no anything. It was like any other day at camp. Except most of my day had been spent waiting around in my cabin for someone to come tell me it was all some joke, or that a surprise party was being held and they wanted to keep everything a secret. The most I'd gotten was a couple of ‘happy birthdays’ from my close friends, and even some random kids who’d I’d been with for years.
It was my 16th birthday - my sweet 16 at that. And I spent it cooped up in a cabin for most of the day, the night ending with some stupid activity no other than Jack Hughes and his weird counselor group had planned. Which had pissed me off more than anticipated. And I snapped at him. Like a full blown yelling match, he mocked me, and made me cry on my own birthday; we also got in trouble, well, I did. Almost got sent home, actually. From the moment he stepped foot to camp, he went by calling you a series of names you’d rather not elaborate on. He was only older than you by a few months, yet he acted like he had been ancient.
Jack Hughes first summer at camp michigan, was last summer. Yet he’d made friends with almost everyone, except for me and my counselor group. It was an unspoken rivalry that went back - these was always the girls group, and the guys group. Always having a leader; being me for my girls, and Jack for his boys. He’d claimed that title almost immediately, somehow robbing my good friend miles of his seniority, which was supposed to mean he was leader. But no, ‘hot shot Hughes’ flew in, having everything handed to the son of a bitch. I’ve never hated anyone more; rivalry was so on.
He was almost insufferable, I’d always assume his overconfident cocky-act was from his popular hockey captain status which he said he held at school. I couldn’t have cared less, about him or his hockey status. He’d go around acting like he owned the place when he hadn’t even been there a week. The staff loved him, but you were pretty sure that was only because of his ‘charm’, or his flirty attitude, at first, most of your cabin crew had also been head over heels for the new hot boy, but you quickly shut them down with any idea of anything happening between any of cabin A with Cabin B. Rules were rules and a rivalry was a rivalry.
I never did know if he knew it had been your birthday that day, if he planned what he had just because he wanted to make your life a living hell, or if he just genuinely did not know. I wasn’t  sure if you’d ever get that answer, and over time I cared less. I’d been too focused on the summer ahead of you and that only. Your 17th would be spent like any other this year. I made sure to plan in advance, for my own sake anyway. This was going to be one of my last years at the camp, I’d be graduating the school year to come, and be moving off to whatever was planned for myself next, so some stupid boys weren’t about to ruin that for me. No matter how many names, or flirtatious things Jack would shoot at me, i had no intent of falling for his fuck boy acts.
For that matter, my good friend, and cabin member, Lacey, had been secretly seeing one of the guys from B cabin, this past summer. Joey. It was well known between the girls cabin, although the boys not so much. A few other girls had spent time with some of the boys, but none went any further in the way Lacey had it out with Joey. A part of me only dreamed of the cliche rivalry love story, yet with the current circumstances, I’d been almost positive that was never, ever going to happen.
Seriously. Imagine, Jack Hughes, and me?
Pffft.
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shutupvincent · 3 days
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i knew i was trans when i was extremely young. as a toddler id thrown tantrums when i was referred to femininely, and that's coming from a kid who was mostly silent from the ages of 1-4. when i was 6 i punched a girl cause she said i had to be girly and feminine. i knew i liked girly and feminine things but i couldn't take it because being girly and feminine meant being a girl. on my 8th birthdayi had a complete mental breakdown over the fact that i was always going to be girly and feminine. when i was 9 i told my girlfriend I wasn't a lesbian and i was a boy; she told me she didn't care. when i was 10 i tried to kill myself because no matter what i did it didn't look like i was ever gonna be seen as a man. no matter how many punches i threw or how many people i yelled at they would just see me as a screaming, confused stupid kid.
i am seventeen years young. i am still here and i am still queer. if it weren't for other trans people giving me some hope in this world, i wouldn't be here. or at the very least, I wouldn't be me. i would have detransitioned and I would've lead a life full of regret and despair and self-loathing.
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ititledit · 3 days
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Terrible headline choice, but overall I'm glad child free women are getting some mainstream coverage
________________
The number of women choosing not to have children is growing and the global birth rate is plunging.
While their reasons vary from climate worries to financial concerns and health complications, those making the decision to be "child-free by choice" say societal acceptance is yet to come, often leaving them feeling ostracised.
The BBC spoke to members of Bristol Childfree Women, a social group with more than 500 members, set up by women and for women who have decided not to have children.
While Caroline Mitchell always knew she never wanted children, she wasn't prepared for how hard reaching "child-bearing age" would be.
The 46-year-old, who lives with her husband in Brislington, Bristol, said while it never bothered her when she was younger, she had not anticipated the barrage of personal questions she would face as friends and acquaintances started to have children.
"I have felt like a freak because of it," she said.
"I feel like my perspective and my experience is just not acceptable."
In Caroline's eyes, society is set up for motherhood.
"You realise how you're quite excluded from a lot of life," she said.
"It's really hard for me to meet people, because it's all about the women you meet at the school gates or the writing clubs for mums."
Caroline said she thinks that sometimes women with children believe the "whole world" is set up for child-free women.
"Actually, it's really exclusionary," she said.
Many in her circle of friends have children and while they have never knowingly done anything to make her feel different, she says, the fact they are "all doing one thing" and she is doing another has been "quite hard".
While Caroline is "100% certain" and "very comfortable" in her identity, she admits she has, on occasion, “agonised" about her decision.
She said that was down to the "cultural expectation" of what was normal and the concept that if you were a woman, having a child was "the natural thing to do".
Official figures released in 2022, external show record numbers of women are reaching the age of 30 child-free.
More than half (50.1%) of women in England and Wales born in 1990 were without a child when they turned 30 in 2020, the first generation to do so, according to the Office for National Statistics.
Megan Stanley, who is originally from Oxfordshire and lives in Bristol, was so certain about her decision to not have children, she has been trying to get sterilised since the age of 19.
When it comes to her painful periods, Megan said it feels "cruel" to go through the "suffering every single month for a body function" she feels she does not need.
"I know that sterilisation doesn't solve periods but it does alleviate a lot of those major symptoms," she said.
But the 31-year-old said she has come up against hurdle after hurdle.
“The doctors would say ‘you're still a bit young’ or ‘you might change your mind’,” she said.
The furthest Megan got was when she was 29 and had an appointment with a surgeon.
"I'd prepared everything - my medical history, prepared all my line of reasoning. I'd even gone as far as to get a testimony from the therapist I was seeing. I'd gone the full mile," she said.
However, permission was not granted once the gynaecologist asked about her relationship status.
"At the time I'd been dating my now long-term partner for maybe three months," Megan said.
She told the doctor that her partner also definitely did not want children and he had already had a vasectomy.
Megan said the doctor then told her that if her partner had a vasectomy, “then you don't need to have this done, do you?"
It was then that Megan said she realised it was "inescapable" and they were "just not going to do it".
"Why should what happens to my body be beholden to what he's done to his?" she said.
"It's got to the point now where I long for the menopause. That's what I'm looking forward to."
Caroline believes women without children may be “complicit” in keeping cultural expectations as they are.
"We don't talk about it - so there's still this thought that it's what everyone does," she said.
"Motherhood is just everywhere all the time, in your face."
She said it was hard not fitting in with the "norm of society" and at times, she had wished she was "different".
"My life would have been easier in some ways," she said.
Yet for many women, whatever choices they make, they seem to beat themselves up about it and "seem to be not very accepting of everyone's choice", Caroline added.
Fiona Powley said she knew she did not want to be a mother from the age of 12 after seeing her own mum struggle with motherhood.
“I just thought motherhood didn't look like lot of fun," she said.
Now 49, Fiona runs the Bristol Childfree Women group, external and while she is currently experiencing menopausal symptoms, she has "no panicking feeling" that she did not use her ability to reproduce.
"It feels very comfortable," she said.
Ironically Fiona now looks at herself and thinks she could have actually done “quite a good job of parenting" but she "never really wanted it enough".
However, like Caroline and Megan she said new people she meets can react negatively when she tells them she chose not to have children.
“There's being told you'll regret it. What's your point of existing? If you don't have children you're not valid as a woman," Fiona said.
Fiona has even been called "selfish" and some have questioned who will look after her when she is old.
“It's almost like people feel uncomfortable," she said.
“It's probably because it never occurred to them that they also had a choice.”
Megan can sympathise.
In the past, the reaction to her not wanting children has been quite "visceral", she said.
She claims some people have painted her as "a child-hater, or a mean person” because of it.
"I think my not wanting kids is just an innate thing to who I am," she said.
Fiona said there were so many reasons why people decide not to have children.
Looking back, she thinks her own reasons were "probably quite unhealthy", but she knows that she is not going to "suddenly wake up as an old lady and feel bitter and regret".
Caroline said she would be a "resentful mother", adding there were a "huge amount of upsides" to not having children, like focusing her time on her relationship with her husband and her hobbies.
Megan agrees.
“There’s a lot of joy to be had in not having kids," she said.
“It isn't all about freedom and money. It's about choice."
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hugheses · 2 days
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sorry if this is a dumb question idk anything abt the brisson’s but are they related to the hughes’ at all? i noticed brendan’s mom kim’s maiden name is hughes
not related but very close family friends and co-owned a lake house together! edit: also jim works for/with pat brisson at caa 1, 2
they met in 2011 when jack and brendan were playing at the brick tournament
Pat Brisson, the CAA agent whose client list is topped by Sidney Crosby, had first met the Hughes family when his son’s Los Angeles atom team played against Jack’s Mississauga Rebels at the Brick Invitational tournament in Calgary — Brisson’s wife, Kim Hughes (no relation), made sure their son tracked down Jack for the post-game sweater exchange. When the OHL decided to deny Jack’s exceptional-status application, Brisson told the family not to worry. “What’s the rush, really?” he says today. “I told them that Sidney didn’t get exceptional status and it didn’t hurt him. It’s a long game. It’s not how fast it comes together. It’s how well it comes together.”
quinn babysat luke and jordan brisson
Agent Pat Brisson, who counts Hughes among his long list of star NHL clients, won’t ever forget the first time he encountered Quinn.  “I met Quinn at the famous Brick U10 tournament while he was watching his brother Jack play for Team Toronto against my son on Team California. My other son Jordan and Luke Hughes were the same age and (watching the tournament). “Quinn came in and he knew that us parents were busy focusing on watching the games. I wouldn’t call it babysitting but he took care of Luke and Jordan while they were climbing trees everywhere around the rink. He was a really nice, mature kid at 11 years old. I saw an admirable trait of respect in a young man who understood the environment pretty quick. Quinn understood the responsibility and those are the little signs of a future leader — it’s silly but I think it was a very telling observation.” “Idiots,” Hughes said with a laugh when recalling that experience with his brother Luke and Brisson’s son, Jordan. “I remember all of it,” he said with a wide smile.
from january
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pinkfey · 1 year
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wip wednesday :D
tagged by @mrs-theirin; tysm quill!! tagging @arklay @steelport @aartyom @malefiicarum @rosebarsoap @kirnet @shadowglens @narshadda @lavinet @druidgroves @swordcoasts @calenhads @brujah @nuclearstorms @florbelles @shepardgf @devilbrakers @jillvalcntines @morvaris @kymal @risingsh0t @solasan @lvllns @rosykims @aelyosos and you!!!!
have a depressing oddly interpreted take on the taint affecting alistair and rowena 😘
The taint came for his hands first.
A side effect of days spent clutching a sword and shield no doubt. His veins went fast, running black and blue overnight. He didn't like looking at them, but Rowena traced them over every night. Hardened bones were next. Protruding metacarpals and thinned knuckles and a noticeable creak in the mornings. Then the pain began. The ache. Days where his joints stiffened to stone, where a grasp clenched too tight refused to come undone, where splaying fingers to their fullest extent proved too much.
Rowena often caught him staring at his hands in the corner of her eye. Busy hands, curious hands, hands made to fidget and gesture and move above all else, now immobile. His worry token went untouched for months, as did many of the things he loved to hold. Flowers in the garden. The mabari's paws. Rowena.
There was a time when Alistair couldn't keep his hands off of her. Affection of the physical kind was a bright and shiny concept and it took time for him to adjust. Rowena could touch him anywhere, after all. It came easy to her, the affection, the initiation. His cheek, his chin, his collarbone--anywhere would do. Eventually, he came to reciprocate. Tentatively at first, as if asking for permission, but confidence came with the security of her affection. Touch became a comfort. A hand around her waist, on her jaw, in her hair. Anywhere would do.
It couldn't have been more different now. He shied away when she reached for his arm to hold, twitched when she kissed his neck in the mornings. Evening baths became sparser until they no longer existed at all, and this Rowena could hardly bear--facing this truth that the old rituals had died, so she clung to the last of them.
No amount of massage relieved the pain, but Rowena would be damned if she didn't try. Nightly, he let her take his hands in her own.
It was a relief each time to see that despite the Taint, Alistair's hands were still his own, broad and square-fingered and devastatingly gentle. Calloused on the underside and scarred by his earliest days with a blade, too young and eager to know any better. And those nights by the firelight, nights where she took his palm in her hands and massaged the ache away, she could see that Alistair's hands were still freckled, just barely. The sun could still shine on him and leave honeyed kisses against his skin and this was one thing the taint could never take. No darkspawn could take the sun.
The night she realized this, she wept silently. She'd stopped him before he could speak, pressed his freckled hand to her cheek before he could pull away, and whispered, "Bathe with me."
Months later, the taint came for her.
For Rowena, it was her vision and it was swift. [reduntant fix this queen lol]
#in my universe the taint wastes away the physical thing you rely on the most#eventually everything is corrupted but it's always your most used ability first#so chronic pain takes alistair's hands and near blindness comes for rowena#spoiler alert unless in da4 they somehow resolve the cure for the calling rowena dies first <3 teehee#SO anyways alistair becomes a lil distant not because he's like. being cold with her. but because like#the insecurity of touch returned. the hesitation. asking if this is okay because of the unspoken recognition that the end is on its way#and he really doesn't know how to deal with that. never knew how to prepare for that#when he cups her face and sees the darkened veins on his wrists and all he can think of is how they can't have this for much longer#that's just!! a lot to handle!! and he needs the reassurance but doesn't know how to communicate it because he lost the ability to ask#aka touch#the bathing part is especially difficult bc ofc evidence of the taint's corruption had spread beyond his hands atp#and he'd have to bare his whole body in front of her and that's like. so vulnerable. when ur dealing w all that#this is probably rlly obvious but sjhdjhfhdjfhjd#i like having aging being a significantly important thing in alistair and rowena’s relationship#the tragedy of it all#how gaining weight and wrinkles is so bittersweet#because on one hand they’re growing old together and god can u believe they made it here#but on the other it’s the telltale sign the calling is nearing and it’s just like#okay how much time do we have left. how much time do we have left. how much time do we have left.#how can we enjoy what we have when we want so much more. gray hair and children and arthritis. we’re so weary and we’re so young.#tag game#writing*#x: a soft epilogue#ch: rowena cousland
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haysgrove · 1 year
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vent in tags dont mind me ✌️
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freebooter4ever · 2 months
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Hey thanks I thought I was the only one who didn’t like the joke. Everyone laughed yuck
Ahhhhh yeah :/ i thought the joke was definitely funny, but with that harsh twinge of sadness at just how normalized and accepted this sort of sexism STILL is.
' i was never good at telling jokes but the punchline goes, i get older but your lovers stay my age '
And its not necessarily a damnation of the man himself - obviously rami is a favorite of mine but i dont think hes ever dated anyone over 30 and is veering towards jake and leo disease too, and i still think rami is one of the most brilliant character narrative builders in the business currently - but its a damnation of a culture that treats romantic partners not as equals but as disposable play things with an expiration date. Look, i got flirted with by much older guys in pittsburgh all the time - usually it was cute, they were friendly, very complimentary and flattering about it, and they never treated it seriously or asked me out. Then i came to LA and the difference was night and day. Older (rich) men here feel entitled to younger women in a way that is frankly scary - at one point in a bar when a guy in his 60s was hitting on me my muscular male friend had to physically step between us and scare the guy off to get him to go away.
And it doesn't help that im sort of in the 'one of the guys' category, so i've heard the way these super rich dudes talk about the models they date behind their back while hanging with 'the guys', and, ugh, its not nice. I will say one thing for sports dudes - i imagine guys like ja*gr have way more respect for young women who are passionate about health and fitness than computer science executives.
But there's negatives in the sports world too - yall know how much i adore taylor. But even i recognize that she's not 'sports bro hot' - she doesn't have silicone, her make up is understated, she doesn't have that social media defined 'hotness' that sports fan dudes expect their sports heroes to date. So while i was naively scrolling insta looking for cute snapshots of taylor and travis being all lovey dovey at the end of the game, a good half the comments were men complaining about her. Saying they cant understand why travis is dating someone so old, that she will never be able to give him kids, that she's already showing her age (both of them are 34 btw). So far travis seems to ignore these types of comments but it would be hard to judge him for giving into peer pressure because this stuff is just so prevelant and exhausting.
And it does effect us older women - while i was dating Pilot Boy i was absolutely hyper aware of the fact that here is this rich, handsome, successful, and extremely smart guy dating beneath him. Like we bonded over being literally the same age - we had mutual friends in college without even knowing it. But i was always questioning like what does this guy see in me - why isn't he dating a gorgeous 25 year old whose only goal in life is to live on the beach with him??? Like he was honestly more the type of dude i would be friends with while he dates hotter women, lol. So i really was not surprised when he ended things (i was mostly sad that we couldnt stay friends and continue geeking out on airplanes and history together LOL), it just felt like it made sense, of course he wouldn't be serious about me, a guy like him should be dating a fresh, youthful, less bitter and cynical 25 yr old blonde. Six years in LA and this is just the pattern i see repeating itself over and over.
And im the romantic - when i fall in love its ALL in. Usually it's personality, usually its intellectual - that comfort in finding someone who just understands how you think. I love being so close to someone that you know them better than yourself, that you can communicate wordlessly. Shared humor, shared experience. As i age im learning that i actually dont pay much attention to the signs of aging when it comes to attraction - who notices wrinkles when what you're in love with is that look in their eye when they smile at you? The mental connection between romantic partners is the most important for me in my book. For me this typically means someone within the ten year range plus or minus - though i prefer it even within a five year age gap.
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relicsongmel · 3 months
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9 year-old Melanie 🤝 24 year-old Melanie
Being Mentally Unwell about the Mamma Mia soundtrack
#mel's musings#mamma mia#THE BROADWAY ONE. not the movie one (although i like a lot of those renditions too)#but yeah i was raised on that soundtrack from an extremely young age despite not being allowed to see the show/movie for years#i had a pink ipod nano in 3rd-4th grade and that shit was ALL i listened to#and because i knew almost nothing about the plot at the time#little autistic mel tried incorporating her barbie 12 dancing princesses hyperfixation into the songs. somehow#(do NOT ask me how the fuck that worked. i don't have an answer for you. ANYWAY)#i had a shirt with the words “dancing queen” on it as a little girl. that is MY song and always will be#and as an adult i've discovered the name of the game is also a me song. as well as a sylvia song#i used to skip over slipping through my fingers as a kid since it made me cry. even though i never really paid attention to the lyrics then#but NOW??? i still cry. because i think of my mom. and the fact that she's the reason i'm so attached to these songs in the first place ;_;#and i have learned absolutely nothing from when i was nine because i am STILL tying my hyperfixations to these songs#and i assure you i am normal about narumitsu singing take a chance on me. i am SO normal i swear#and while it doesn't QUITE match up with how i picture the timeline of their relationship#the idea of phoenix having a mamma mia moment when miles comes back in jfa is fucking hilarious to me#GO LISTEN TO MAMMA MIA. come be feral with me it's beautiful here#music nerd shit
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