#i gotta make sure i tag this so i can find it again!!

[karmaphone]

the 2013 riddick movie was by far the worst, if just for the revolting nastiness they did to the lesbian

#ask to tag #(for the tags) #literally fucking nasty #the unnecessary nudity. the attempted rape. the constant references to fucking her. the implied sex. fucking nasty #literally made me GAG in some parts that's how gross it was #at least the other two movies had more than one female character #like. this movie was just BAD I wish we stopped after the second movie :( #the plot doesn't even make sense #I will not forgive them for putting so much effort into getting the audience attached to a dog that they kill either #and you're telling me the man described repeatedly as an animal got ''''civilized'''' even with so many assassins around..........k bye #'wuh I gotta find that animal part of me again' #and like. the dislocation thing. one of his first scenes in the first movie was him dislocating both shoulder simultaneously without a sweat #without even changing his facial expression #but yea sure the dislocated knee getting put back into place is debilitating. even I can do that and walk. incon-fucking-sistent

[satrs]

You Perv!

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; the jjk guys as different kind of pervs.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; various jjk men x fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 0.6k ish

TAGS; NSFW/DARK CONTENT! MDNI. pervy guys(kinda creep). non-con pictures taken.panty sniffing. masturbation(male). risk of getting caught. mention of creampie. nicknames(dirty girl).

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

THINKIN' BOUT YOU!

He always had that deep desire for you, one so deep, lingering at the back of his head at all times, almost impossible to tame. But he couldn't tell you, scared of what your answer might be.

He just can't help it. If he doesn't have the courage to tell you about his feelings and desires for you, he had to find some other way to feed into his eagerness for you.

This became like a daily routine, after he saw you and managed to get some sneaky picture of you in any position that he could put his mind into, he bid you a quick goodbye before hurrying home, swiftly stripping out of his pants, laying in bed with his aching dick in hand.

His hand stroked up and down his length as he pleasured himself, barely able to focus on the pixels in front of him as he felt himself nearing his release, the phone finally falling from his hold as his hand tightened around his shaft, imagining it being your tender fingers instead of his rough ones.

Not long after, spurts of cum covered his hand and stomach. While he tried to get his ragged breathing in control, he already went back on his phone, dialing your number to arrange a new hang-out, ready to snap more sneak peaks of you.

Yuuta. Nanami.

PANTY SNIFFER!

It just started off as an innocent offer from his side, driving you to that one party you really wanted to go to.

"Hey. I'm not done now, but you can come in. Just wait a minute and make yourself at home, yeah?" He returned a soft smile and nodded at your giggle, slouching himself on your bed as he felt the soft fabric beneath his hands and your scent embracing him.

'Make yourself at home', you said, so you surely wouldn't mind him taking a peak in your opened drawer, right? His thoughts got the better of him as he sneaked to the shelf, breath halting as he saw what was laying inside.

"I'm sorry it'll take me some more time! I can't get this eyeliner right." Your loud voice echoed through the door, his neck craning into your direction. Suits him. His fingers rummaged inside the drawer until he came across a daring pair of panties, face relaxing as he put it to his nose, inhaling your scent.

This is what led up to this point, him on your bed with your panty wrapped around his cock, muffling his moans by biting down hard on his lips, almost drawing blood.

"Give me a minute, almost done!" His movements speed up at the sound of your voice, his sickening thoughts taking over him as your unsuspecting voice only feed into his pleasure.

Quick, quick. Gotta be quick.

Choso. SATORU. Suguru.

WISH BECOMES REALITY!

He’d always dream about this, you on top of him, tits bouncing into his face at every movement of your hips, your angelic moans filling his ears.

But it was all just a dream, a dark and secret fantasy of his that would never become reality. You were just out of reach for him, too high for someone like him.

Oh boy was he wrong.

"Oh fuck." His head threw back in pleasure at the movement of your hips, needily rocking up and down on him, as the room filled with your sinful sounds of pleasure. He almost couldn't believe it. If only he had known that you longed for this almost as long as he did - he would've done this sooner.

If it was for him, he would take off that annoying condom right now, eager to see his cum leaking out of your puffy folds, just like he always imagined it. "Bet you wanted this for so long. What a dirty girl."

But there is no way that he does not feel addressed himself, because he knew that he desired and fantasized about this moment for almost eternity, his boring jack off sessions now coming to an end since he finally got a taste of you.

TOJI. Sukuna. Hiromi. Suguru(again).

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ #♡˳ᴶᴶᴷ #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji smut #gojo smut #geto smut #nanami smut #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen choso #jujutsu kaisen #choso smut #yuji smut #megumi smut #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta smut #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen season 2

[antimony-medusa]

Honestly though like if you're following Philza you should get used to the fact that since the dawn of him streaming RP people have violently disliked his reaction to any angst beats because like, the cc finds angst rp funny and is also a very giggly guy. And if you're here for drama and tragedy it looks like he's not taking the pain seriously, which is obviously going to be something you don't like seeing. Trust me. We have been here before. I have watched DSMP. There were people saying he didn't take Techno's IRL death seriously enough because he was positive on stream. Like, this is top five things people get mad at cc!phil and his characters for, after "breaks the fourth wall" and "is an imperfect person/parent" and "idk his vibes just grate and I read them as Bad y'know".

I personally think that like the fact that he was repeatedly saying to the eggs that they were gonna get Tubbo back, they'll bring him back with the create wrench cause he cares about create, don't worry it'll all be okay; that was all evidence that the character does care about Tubbo and for heaven's sake, if you want angst, read that as denial and you're fully comfortably in one of the recognized stages of grieving. I was making jokes the day people in my life died, this is also one of the ways people deal with loss. But I also see why that's a POV clash if you wanted a more straightforward depiction of grief and angst? Phil was pretty far from being in tears, which is what some people think was warranted. So like, sure, if you've been watching a specific perspective, Phil's reaction was trivializing. I can see that perspective as well.

It is not fun to see someone calling your POV "vile" and "heartless" and "too selfish to consider other people" and the other delightful stuff that I just saw on a scroll through the tag, but like, that's just POV clash, you gotta let people have their own opinions and block the neg tags and maybe block people who are being really loud. Sincerely, it does nobody any good to go beefing about people being mean about your favourite cubito. Post careful lore exploration on your own blog if you want but doing replies, sending anons, all of that is the way down which A Bad Time lies. Sincerely like, this has happened before, this will happen again, just go listen to good music or something and ignore it.

#qsmp #philza #philza meta

[angelltheninth]

OKAY BUT WHAT IF MIGUEL WAS THE VIRGIN?!

Omg Anon, your brain! Thank you for this!

Paring: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, virginity loss, size difference, a bit of teasing, growling, praise, gentle sex

A/N: Why do I find the idea of a virgin Miguel so appealing?

Virgin!Miguel might be a virgin when it comes to his cock but things like fingering and oral sex are something he knows a lot about. He's done these things before but... well... he's always been very self-conscious of his size. Even if his previous lovers told him it was fine he never wanted to hurt them so he never really lost his virginity to anyone. You will be his first, the only one to ever get his cock.

"I don't think I'm very skilled in these things. I'm sorry but I've only had a few partners before this and it never went this far. Just looking at your pussy is... are you sure I'll fit in there? Of course I really want to, I'm as hard as a rock for you. But what if you don't like it? What if I'm too much? Take it slow? I can but... you need my cock now? You're a needy one."

Virgin!Miguel is indeed as hard as a rock for you but your next orgasm he would rather have you come all over his abs. So he does give you his cock, not in the way you'd expect though. His girthy dick slides over your clit, slow almost teasing pace to make you push your hips upwards. When you're about to come he presses down on you with his whole body, your cum rolling down his cock and abs when he moves away. He might be a virgin but he knows what you want.

"Sorry if I teased you. You gotta understand that it's the only thing I can offer you with confidence right now. When I see how cute you get, how much you want it, want me, want my cock to make you come I can't help myself. Looks like you're ready. Spread your legs please."

Virgin!Miguel shakes a little when the tip of his cock pushes inside your pussy, it's unlike anything he's felt before. All those toys he has and none of them could ever compare to the real thing. He knows that now. Might as well just throw them all away because now he has somewhere so much better to put his cock into. Although he has a pretty high libito so if you want to be his new toy you're gonna have to deal with his hard cock a lot.

"Fuck. Hold on, stop, I need to stop for a bit. Are all pussies this good or are you special? I don't think I'll be finding out any time soon cause I could get addicted to this one. I'm not even properly inside you and I already feel my balls tightening. Are you on birth control? Okay, so you won't mind if I come inside."

Virgin!Miguel comes hard as soon as he thrusts a few times. He thought that all the masturbating he did would prepare him for the real deal but apparently not. He's doing his best to fuck you through his orgasm in an effort to give you your. A lot of cum is pushed out and then back in as he slots your hips right against yours, his lips curled and teeth showing, little grunts and growls falling from his mouth

"Thought I'd last longer then this. Yeah, I'm a little embaressed, wouldn't you be if you couldn't last longer with the prettiest girl in the world? Are you sure those orgasms earlier were enough? I'll be hard again in an hour so I fully plan on making it up to you. What do you say pretty, will you help me with my endurance training?"

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara imagine #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #marvel smut #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #atsv imagines #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 smut #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x you #x female reader

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 [Snippet] 🔞

Jungkook just loves to show you off- because while everyone on his planet might get to look at you, he gets to touch and love you in private.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Bunny Hybrid!Reader, Extremely flirty Jungkook, suggestive, Major Fluff!, Romance, Established Relationship, JK has tentacles oops, smut

Length: It was supposed to be a drabble but I ended up writing ~2.5k words oops

There is no taglist for this fic

A/N: Boo here you go hybrid alien tentacle porn yay 🥳

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"There you are!" Jungkook sighs in relief, finding you in an isle for fresh produce, staring wide eyed at the round plastic containers filled with cubed fruits. "You want those?" He asks, pointing at one with pinkish and pale yellow cubes. You nod.

"Sweet?" You ask, unsure, and he shrugs, pulling the item down to inspect it, before he nods.

"Yeah, those are sweet- but I gotta…" He mumbles the last part, reading the label a bit further while you begin to wander off again- though this time you're pulled back by his hand reaching out during his task of finding out more about the fruits he's about to buy, to hold onto the hood of your light cotton jacket to keep you close this time and not lose you again in the grocery store. "..safe for human consumption. Hm, there's nothing written about hybrids though.." He mumbles to himself before he pulls out his phone to search online if you can eat those fruits native to his home planet, hand now leaving your hood- one of his extra appendages sneaking out from beneath his shirt to hold onto the belt loops of your shorts to keep you close.

Basilisks- that's what they're called here, which confused you for a good while, until you learned that they actually didn't ever have a true name, but that it was simply an earth-term his kind had adopted to use for them, because it sounded like a similar word which means 'Blood-snake' in his native language. You remember how terrified you were of his uniquely inky-purple colored tentacles everyone of his kind has- mostly though because you met them when he'd used them to defend you both, the images still very vivid in your mind. But these days, you've come to love them as just another piece of him- even though you remember Yoongi, a good friend of his and your doctor currently, explaining to you that they do have their own minds.

'It's actually quite surprising they chose you.' He'd told you. 'I've never seen them so interested in their host's mate.'

Mate. It's still odd to think of yourself as that, though it makes sense with how he cares for and about you.

Jungkook is, nowadays, a bit more careful now with your food for example. He'd hate for you to have another situation like a month prior when you had eaten Nacuri- a vegetable he himself actually likes a lot, but that is apparently not very good for hybrids such as yourself, having caused you some major stomach cramps that pained him to simply watch- and ever since then, he's checking everything twice just to make sure. "-but can be eaten as a snack in small quantities." He reads out loud. "Alright, so only the small box then!" He chirps, putting the big container back to exchange it for a smaller one.

The moment his hands are free again, his inky-purple appendage disappears underneath the back of his shirt again, hiding away as to not get in the way, while he holds your hand as he walks through the different isles at the store.

He notices you yawning a lot more now as you stand on the metal parts of the shopping cart while his chest is warm against your back, and he's learned that's not always just a sign for tiredness in humans and hybrids. "We'll be home soon. I didn't think the line for checkout would be this long.." He tells you, hand running over your hybrid ears, while you suppress another yawn, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes from it. Oxygen levels inside buildings like these are fine for him and his kind- but humans and hybrids like you need a lot more than him to thrive properly. It's why he's got a special air filtering system installed in his home to accommodate for that- to make your life with him as comfortable as he possibly can.

It's the least he can do to show gratefulness for what you've done for him in the past, after all. And also, what kind of partner would he be if he didn't provide the absolute best for you?

He doesn't like how your ears droop after a few moments more- so he searches in your shoulder bag for the familiar pale pink plastic inhaler, setting it up with a few clicks for the proper dosage. "Here. It's almost our turn." He reassures again, offering the inhaler to you which you take with a nod. It'll help you with a bit of extra oxygen until you're out in the open again, levels today high for his kind, but perfect for yours. "Do you wanna eat the fruits in the gardens near the Archives?" He wonders, and you seem to think.

"What about.. those?" You ask, pointing at all the groceries.

"We can eat the icecream there too. I've got a spare blanket we can sit on, in the car." He says, leaning in to rest his chin on your shoulder. "I wanna have some.. cozy time with my baby, what do you say?" He purrs, and you shiver a bit, bunny tail wiggling around.

"Hmhm." You nod. You're not sure what entirely he means by 'cozy time'- because with him, that could honestly mean anything.

Later, outside on the blanket he'd laid out in the park in a more secluded space, you're happily filling your stomach with the fruits he'd bought you. He's watching fondly, because moments like these remind him that the past truly is behind the both of you. You no longer seem scared of anything as long as he's around. You speak freely to him, you're not shy at all, and you've even become a little bit daring these days.

You're no longer the empty, confused and almost soulless hybrid he'd met years back at the facility he'd found himself in. You no longer need to be told exactly what to do or otherwise you'll end up having a panic attack. You've become your own person, independent. You've blossomed, vibrantly.

And he loves it.

He loves you.

Especially now, hours later back at home, groceries still in their bags in the kitchen while you whine pitifully against his lips, with his grin satisfied while he watches you cling onto him. Something you've learned fairly quickly is that his kind is one that treats intimacy a little differently than humans back on earth. There's nothing forbidden or to be shy about for his kind- every type of intimacy or romantic displays of affection are normal even in public- no one stares at a couple kissing or hugging. If anything, people will just instantly believe a relationship is bad if there's no PDA ever between mates.

And sex? That's something sacred, it feels like.

Enio people just like himself find pleasure by feeding off of other's pleasure. They thrive when their partners thrive, they're happy when their partner's happy, and they're sad or in pain whenever their mates are. They also have relationships between multiple people- rarely ever having just one partner. Jungkook however had told you numerous times already that he's completely fine with just having you.

'Why would I ever need anybody else-' he'd said into your neck, '-when you're making me lose my mind every single time we're together?'

He's long lost his shirt by now, his dark purple tentacles already eagerly touching you. They're clearly just as excited as he is every single time you're together like this- and it's honestly almost cute.

Almost- if it wasn't for one of them very eagerly sliding right through in between your legs, back and forth, making you cling onto his arms as he watches you with an intense gaze. His eyes have always been something unique- like two pitch black voids, but only ever if the light doesn't hit them just right, making you able to see the deep red-ish brown and slanted pupils, similar to a feline. But in times like these, in the barely lit bedroom of his, they're just two nightsky colored marbles, reflecting anything like a galaxy.

His tongue runs over his bottom lip, licking over his silver piercings on one side. His grin is that of a predator, watching his prey struggle. But not for it's life- no, you're struggling for entirely different reasons.

"They're horribly impatient." He chuckles when one of his purple appendages moves to instead play with your pearl, before it prods at your entrance, almost as if to see if Jungkook will allow it.

He doesn't.

And it's clear with the way they retreat from between your legs, instead roaming your hips instead, before two of the four spread your legs open for him. That's how it usually goes- a rule set by him. Only he gets to be inside you- gets to claim you like that.

Your underwear is still hanging from your ankle when he pushes himself inside, hands gripping the soft flesh of your waist. He tends to be impatient like this, can't help himself, as he always tends to say to excuse his eager nature. You're perfectly compatible to him, physically and emotionally as well.

You're his, and he just can't help but want to make sure everyone knows that.

The windows are open, and your sure someone way down can probably hear your faint moans, but you can't bring yourself to care about it. "My baby.." he purrs into your neck, where he kisses and sucks his marks, hands gripping your body wherever he can while his tentacles roam around to offer you their own ways of pleasure.

You don't kind the almost sticky substance they begin to leak onto your skin. You've gotten used to it by now.

You're dizzy with everything going on around you. You're unable to quite move much, but you don't have to- both Jungkook's arms and his extra appendages make sure to keep you in place while his hips snap into yours, skin wet as it stays connected to his with thin strands of both your arousal and the sweet smelling precum of his tentacles.

A year ago, you would've tried to hide in shame of it all- thinking you dont deserve nice feelings like this. You would've never thought you'd be loved like this, touched like this.

But he's made that possible. He makes it happen time and time again, and in every touch he places on your skin you can feel the tenderness he has for you in his very soul. He's not lying when he says he loves you. He's not deceiving you with acts of kindness and care. He means every single affectionate gaze he throws your way.

You love him because of that alone.

"My sweet little bunny baby.." he chuckles out of breath as he rolls his hips in just the way to make you arch your back in pleasure, as he leans over you to kiss your lips bright red.

He likes to bite. Likes to pull a little on your bottom lip and likes to get you into any position he sees fit. Sometimes he'll kiss up your back as he takes you from behind- other times like now, he wants to watch your face as you come undone under his steady pace.

It fuels his ego every single time seeing you all fucked out like this.

Every time it's proof that he's a good lover to you.

The moment you come undone and clench around him in waves of pleasure, he's quick to shoot his shot as well- hips stuttering as he pushes himself inside, one of his tentacles sneaking between you both, running over your pearl just to coax another orgasm out of you, thighs trembling a little. You're somewhat glad his basilisks are keeping your body in place, because at this point you're just absolutely boneless.

He's humming in pleasure as he sighs into your neck, body covering yours now almost protectively. 'Shielding' is what it's called- you've looked up some of his behavior just to figure out things you're too shy to ask him yourself. It's an instinctual thing- a remnant of a time long passed when his kind had to protect their mates whenever they were in a vulnerable state.

And then he moves again, tentacles slick with their own arousal as they wrap around your ankles, adjusting your legs as he moves lower, his hands on your hips cherishing your skin it feels like.

And then his mouth is on you, licking you up, probably tasting both you and him in a sinful mixture- but it's another behavior of his that always repeats. He does this every single time, claims it's nothing special and that for his kind, it's basic care after getting his own fill of you. He's constantly surprised at what things surprise you- but then again, you both grew up on entirely different planets, with entirely different culture surrounding you.

So it's normal that some of the things you do tend to catch him off guard as well.

Such as after you're both done showering and cleaning up- he's always surprised how clingy you get after being so closely together just minutes prior. Normally, with his kind, it's like he's recharged his social batteries- now able to go about his day easily, no need for too much physical affection. But for you it seems to be almost the opposite- you love to cuddle and be close to him afterwards, and maybe that's one of the key points that just make you so endearing to him.

He loves cuddling. He loves being lazy with you, especially like this. "I booked our flight to Doria for the end of this cycle." Jungkook hums into your skin, letting you lay almost on top of him, skin still bare. "It's gonna be a long flight, but I already talked to Yoongi about medication in case you feel sick." he reassures you, and you just nod, way too tired to really comprehend what he's talking about. "You're not even listening at all, are you?" He laughs because he knows as well- though he doesn't mind. He knows your body works a bit differently than his own, and knows by now he can be… quite exhausting.

So he let's you sleep, and decides that maybe a short nap isn't the worst idea either-

especially not if he gets to sleep with you in his arms.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

[aliceramblez]

BroZone Brothers With An Insecure S/O 😔💗

Tags: GN! Reader, Self-Deprecating Jokes, Low Self-Esteem, Abandonment Issues, Slight Body Insecurities. Fluff/Comfort.

A/N: Here we go with our first request! I really liked this idea as someone who has low self-esteem, and honestly it goes to all of y'all who think you're not good enough— cause you are! Also sorry it took a bit! I've been sick because the universe hates me 🙃

Feel free to leave a request & hope you enjoy! ^^

John Dory

At first, he doesn't really know what to make of it.

He finds it a bit strange, but doesn't question your odd sense of humor, and will sometimes even join in on the joke by saying stuff about himself, thinking it's some sort of inside thing between the two of you.

“Man, I can't believe I'm so clingy, sorry! Feel free to use me as a bad example, at least that way I won't be totally useless, haha!”

“Ha! You think that's bad? Babe, you haven't even seen me when I'm up at night just staring at the ceiling contemplating my life choices.”

It isn't until getting a good smack from Bruce and Floyd that he realizes you're actually being serious. And the prospect of that kinda puzzles him, not gonna lie.

“Look at you, tiger! Got yourself plenty of groupies already— Not surprising honestly. Don't have to worry about backups when you decide you're ready to move on, either!”

After a performance at the Pop Troll village, everyone is gushing over BroZone because of course they are. JD only barely manages to squeeze past the number of fans to get to you on the other side of the podium.

The oldest sibling looks at you in shock, and has to get closer to make sure he heard you right. “Babe, why would you say that?”

Caught off guard, you manage a nervous chuckle as you play with your hair. “I-I mean... Wow, would you look at the time! We gotta meet with Poppy and the others!”

John Dory stops you on your tracks and demands an explanation, which isn't really good for your poor heart. All you can do is kick the dirt and avoid his gaze, since that makes what you're about to say much easier to voice aloud.

“I mean... You're John Dory. You could date any troll you wanted and yet you're sticking with me. It honestly feels like a dream sometimes... And I'm scared of the day you realize you can do WAY better and decide to leave me.”

After processing this, he immediately holds your face in his hands and gives you the most serious expression you've ever seen on him. “I don't want just any random troll... I want you. You're my number one fan, and I'm yours, so don't even think about stuff like that, okay?”

After the exchange, he's always on the lookout for whenever your bad habit wants to kick in again and is ready to stop it ASAP

Spruce/Bruce

He notices it happens mostly when you're working at the cantina.

Whenever you get an order wrong, trip over your own feet or don't remember how to work one of the machines properly, you'll go into an awkward insecure flight response.

You'll say “Oops! Sorry! Clumsy Twinkle Toes, coming through!” while grinning and laughing along with the customers, but Bruce knows that it's affecting you more than you lead on.

It also happens whenever BroZone is getting ready to perform and you don't know what to do with yourself since you're “standing in the way”, despite being told multiple times that it's okay for you to be backstage with everyone else.

When he talks to you about it, you get really uncomfortable and just say that it's no big deal and that you can handle it.

“I've always been a clumsy person, so I guess that's always making me doubt myself over the smallest of things... Sorry if it's annoying.”

Bruce will then proceed to give you a huge warm hug and a kiss on the forehead as he whispers comforting words into your ear.

“Hey, I can be clumsy too! I've always been the worst out of everyone when it comes to choreography. Don't tell JD though, cause I know he'll throw a fit knowing I don't practice.”

He'll throw in other examples that may seem inconsequential to you, but you appreciate the effort nonetheless and smile and giggle through the embarrassing stories he shares.

He helps you get more confident by being there with you while taking orders at the cantina and praising you whenever you get something right— albeit in private as to not embarrass you.

Same goes with rehearsals, where he WILL drag you into the lounge area to hang with his brothers and/or Poppy and Viva when they decide to visit, too.

Overall he wants what's best for you and will try and push you out of your comfort zone, but only in a safe environment where he knows that if something does go wrong, it won't be as catastrophic as you make it out to be in your head.

You never stop thanking him for being your crutch during these times.

Clay

The moment he hears the words come out of your mouth he's completely flabbergasted.

First of all, who said those things to you? Because he swears he just wants to talk to them—

It's at a sleepover with his brothers and the gals at the Bergen Golf Course, and among the many games, snacks and movies watched, pictures are also taken.

As soon as you take a look at the array of selfies, you let out what sounds like a mix between a laugh and a sigh.

“I mean, at least it stays consistent— in photos, I look ugly. And in real life, I'm also ugly!”

As soon as those words leave your lips, Clay is at your side with an almost unreadable expression, only to snatch one of the photos from your hands. “How DARE you say that about the most attractive troll I've ever met? Shame on you!”

He then starts going around the room waving the picture around to his brothers, saying stuff like “Look how attractive my S/O is! I'm dating them!” while you're just blushing profusely and begging him to stop (even though deep down your kinda giddy about it).

After that day, Clay will do small gestures in which he reminds you how beautiful he thinks you are. Everything to outright saying it each morning, joking about it with his brothers, and even bragging about you to his friends in the Bergen Golf Course.

He's a simp and he's totally okay with that because it's you.

Clay feels like he's the luckiest troll in the world for being able to snatch someone like you since he's “the most boring and uninteresting of the bunch”, so he feels like he's hit the jackpot.

You immediately tell him that he's not boring to you and that he's the best boyfriend ever, which only causes him to smirk.

“Doesn't feel good to know the person you love feels so bad about themselves, does it?”

Finally realizing his reverse psychology, you give in with a laugh. “No, it doesn't. I guess... We can both work on that? Together?”

And so you do, and end up helping each other whenever one is feeling down in the dumps, as a sort of personal cheerleader. You truly couldn't have asked for someone better.

Floyd

You're the kind of person who's very vocal about your interests.

So it's no surprise that you have to catch yourself mid-ramble whenever you're talking about something you're either interested in or knowledgeable about. And with Floyd being such a good listener, it honestly slips your mind more times than you'd prefer.

After realizing you've been talking for too long, you turn pink in the face and start apologizing profusely.

“Sorry! You probably didn't need to hear all of that. They didn't call me ‘Chatter Box’ when I was younger for nothing! Haha...”

But Floyd could care less about any of that. He loves hearing you talk, not just because he's not much of a chatty person, but because he just finds it incredibly endearing.

He'll hold your hands in his own and give you the softest smile ever that just makes you think that it should be illegal to be THIS sweet.

“You're just so cute when you get lost in the moment like that. Besides, I love seeing you happy. By all means, I'm glad you get to do the talking for the both of us, otherwise we wouldn't get anywhere in this relationship.”

You laugh at his attempt to make you feel better and melt under the touch of his lips on your cheek.

After that, whenever you go out either just the two of you or with your group of friends, Floyd will encourage you to express yourself. He does this by either asking you a question directly or subtly incorporating you into the conversation by saying something like. “I think (y/n) knows about this kinda stuff. Don't you, love?”

Obviously this all happens with your consent beforehand, since he doesn't want to put you in a tight spot, either.

Either way, he always values whatever you have to say, since you always bring in new perspectives that maybe others didn't think about before.

He will also encourage you to be yourself and not try and match your topics of conversation with things you think other people will find interesting. You deserve to be happy by sharing what you love with the world.

Poppy and Viva are huge helps in the art of feeling confident by speaking your mind, and Floyd couldn't be happier for you.

You thank him by telling him about your day each night, in which sometimes he'll fall asleep to the soothing sound of your voice, which only warms your heart on so many levels.

“Goodnight, my prince.”

“Goodnight, my little chatter box.”

Branch

Just like Clay, this man is ready to throw hands.

Just give him a name and he'll get the job done before sunrise—

He notices that sometimes you struggle with finding outfits for different occasions, either something casual, dressy, classy, etc.

But it's not because you don't have anything in your wardrobe, on the contrary it's pretty much brimming. It's more the fact that you're not satisfied with any of them because you feel like you don't look good in them.

Branch tries to convince you otherwise, saying that you look great no matter what you wear, but you can't help but feel self-conscious in anything that isn't a good old sweatshirt.

He isn't knowledgeable in fashion (clearly) so he enlists the help of Poppy and The Snack Pack to try and cater outfits to your exact measurements, along with any other nitpicks you've had in the past with either texture or material.

I mean, Branch has backup plans to his backup plans, you think he wouldn't keep notes on what kind of stuff his S/O doesn't like— INCLUDING mundane stuff like their clothing?

He surprises you with these, and you can't help but feel attractive in them since he paid extra attending to the complaints you had from your own designs.

“I personally think you look great no matter what you wear. But if you feel so strongly about it, might as well get some stuff you'll actually enjoy wearing.” He'd said when you asked why he did it, and your heart just melted.

You vow to try and work on your self-imagine regardless, which he gets happy over and says he can't wait for you to see yourself the way he does.

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls x reader #trolls branch #trolls spruce #trolls john dory #trolls clay #trolls floyd #branch x reader #spruce x reader #clay x reader #john dory x reader #floyd x reader #headcanons #dating scenarios

[meowzfordayz]

hashira accidentally touch your chest

Author’s Note: pls and ty enjoy this tidbit of crack-fluff. 😆💖

hashira accidentally touch your chest

Hashira x Reader

Word Count: ~1,600

CW: explicit language, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content

Suggestion Fulfilled: Can we get all hashira accidently touch y/n's breast

~faqs~

Fyi, “chest” means boob. I was just worried Tumblr would block this post from tags if I included “boob” in the title lmao. 😉

Shocked 😳😖

“I apologize, [y/n]-san, it won’t happen again!”

Gyomei’s nearly in tears, he feels so terribly 😞

“These things happen!” you promptly assure him, “Besides, you technically won the bout.”

No need to mention that he always wins when training together 🥲

“I cannot accept such a tainted victory.”

“Himejima-san, though I appreciate your concern and respect, there’s truly no issue.”

Meanwhile, Gyomei’s rethinking his entire Breathing Style to ensure he never accidentally touches anyone’s boob(s) again 💀 

In cold disbelief 😐😐😐

If you don’t say anything, then he won’t say anything

Alternatively, if you do say something, then Obanai will immediately curl up into a ball and die

Spends the rest of his day recalling the fleeting warmth of your breast

He swears his hand doesn’t even get cold, so affected by the heat of your bosom

Your boob must be ✨magical✨

“Iguro-san,” you call out gently, noting his dazed stare, his dinner untouched while he sits crossed legged, “Is something on your mind?”

“No.” 😐😐😐

Well okay then 🙃

“About what happened earlier…”

🫨🫨🫨 <— Obanai is FREAKING OUT

“… Iguro-san, I didn’t mind.”

And then you stand up, take your dishes, and leave

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEEEAAAN?!?!?!

Good luck finding Obanai tomorrow 🫡 (the poor man’s been pleasantly overwhelmed)

He’ll avoid you for eternity now 😌 (not really, but at least until he can breathe around you again)

She giggles 🤭

Lol

“Oh my! [y/n]-san, I didn’t mean to touch you so intimately!” 😅

“No worries, it happens.”

Your face may or may not be burning up a storm, but that’s okay!

Mitsuri’s blushing too

A lot 😳

“I hope I didn’t hurt you?!”

Because like, What if I gripped too hard?! 😭

She’s well aware of her own strength

“You barely brushed me, Kanroji-san. I promise!”

Phew!

She grins, relief evident as she bumps her elbow against yours

“Don’t tell anyone, okay? I would be so embarrassed!!!”

“Kanroji-san, our secret is safe with me.”

I wish it would happen again… <— lowkey both of you thinking the same thing 🤪

As a medical personnel (among other roles), Shinobu accidentally (or even on purpose, depending on where you’re wounded) touching your boob isn’t entirely unreasonable nor unrealistic

Obviously it would be nicer if she was caressing you out of love and affection 😔

And not methodically cleansing then bandaging claw marks that just so happened to cross over your chest 😒

“You should make a full recovery,” she’s all business, “The demon avoided your nipple and didn’t puncture deep enough to affect the functionality of your breast,” fortunately, you’re too exhausted to be embarrassed by her bluntness, “It has a nice shape. I’m glad you survived.”

EXCUSE ME WHAT?!?!?! 😃🫠

Now you’re kinda embarrassed

More so preening, really 🤭

It’s like when a doctor randomly compliments the rhythm of your heart or some other characteristic from a mainly professional POV, but you’re still caught off guard because who tf compliments someone’s kidneys or bowels movements or?????

In your pain hazed delusion, you briefly contemplate somehow getting your other boob injured too… gotta make sure you’re matching in (nice) shape, y’know? 😌

Kyojuro can be discreet, albeit more so for your sake than his

“I APOLOGIZE! I DID NOT MEAN TO TOUCH YOUR BREAST!” <— how he could react 💀

“Pardon my slip, are you okay?” <— how he actually reacts, because he isn’t entirely lacking in social awareness and decorum 😆

“Oh,” you don’t mean to squeak, but it can’t be helped when the most handsome man you’ve ever known just casually grazed your boob, “I’m fine! Totally fine! Haha!” 🫨😵‍💫🫠

You’ve gotta be more convincing than that, or Kyojuro will never forgive himself 😕

He’s a lil oblivious when it comes to physical attraction

Not like, infantly so, but given this particular circumstance?

He doesn’t realize you’re flustered; he assumes you’re mortified 😖

“You sound decidedly less than fine.”

He’s softer now, worried about startling you 🥺

“I was surprised! But don’t worry! I’m not worried!”

Okaaay, but he’s worried 🥲

“Is there any way I could make amends for my indiscretion?”

Not only is he handsome, but he is such a gentleman 😭😍

“Rengoku-san, there are no amends to be made, I promise. I’m not mad, nor do I feel unhappy or unsafe. I forgive you.”

Your regaining of the ability to speak in complete sentences greatly reassures him 😮‍💨😁

“Ah. Well. I am grateful for your kindness and understanding. It will not happen again.”

…

…

Hold up 🧐

Why does she seem… she seems… disappointed? Should I have said it will happen again??

You’ve suddenly given Kyojuro something quite pleasant to ponder 🤔

After all, he isn’t entirely oblivious 😉

“Are you going to apologize?” Sanemi demands

“For what?” you screech

“For touching my hand with your boob!”

Your eyes roll, “Oh fuck off!”

“I didn’t ask to touch you,” he grunts

“I wouldn’t have given you permission anyway,” you retort 😒

Arms crossing over his bare chest, Sanemi scoffs, “Well I didn’t give mine either!”

“You’re ridiculous. It was an accident.”

You seem genuinely pissed 😬

Sanemi rethinks his approach

“You know I’m joking, right?” 😅

“Nooo,” your sarcasm cuts deep, “I thought you were flirting.” 😐

Uh 😀

Well 😃

Shit 😄

“Fuck you!” 

When in doubt, curse ‘em out 💀

You scowl, confusion lingering as your blood boils, “Fuck you!”

“I said it first.” 🙄

You stalk away, fed up with his antics

#man child #sort of #romantically inept is more like it

As tends to happen with epiphanies, yours doesn’t hit until you’re almost asleep

“WAS THAT MOTHERFUCKER FLIRTING WITH ME???!” 😳🥴😭

Best believe Shinazugawa Sanemi is about to have a Lesson 101 in flirting asap 😤😎

(assuming you’re older, like, mentor age to Muichiro)

Neither of you make a fuss about it

It’s like accidentally calling your teacher mom 😬

Or grabbing a random person’s hand in the supermarket thinking they’re your parent 🫣

Embarrassing, but not a huge deal — unless you make it one

There’re those three seconds of slow motion Uhh and What just happened and Oops 🫠

And then time speeds up to normal again, you have a quick conversation with your eyes (gosh forbid you speak and bring the unspoken into reality 💀), and it’s over

^^ Alternatively, if Muichiro initiates a conversation to clear the air, then you’re able to have a mature and concise chat that is respectfully and patiently resolved

Embarrassing/accidental encounters are part of growing up

As long as they can be navigated ~safely, there shouldn’t be any lasting harm

⚠️I also want to emphasize that I am talking solely on inarguably accidental/one time incidences⚠️

Hehehe

Giyuu’s hand is stuck 🫣

Only for like, a fleeting second

But omg 😭

He was already embarrassed, and now he’s triply embarrassed 🫠🫠🫠

“... Tomioka-san?”

You won’t lie; you aren’t especially bothered 🤭

But it is a compromising position to be caught in; Giyuu lowkey crushing you, one of his palms clearly cupping your boob 😬

#wrestling #or something #so maybe this isn’t super realistic #forgive me

You’re about to repeat his name when he finally springs to life, immediately rolling off you, standing abruptly, about to literally sprint away

And then he remembers his manners 🙃

He offers you a hand

His other hand; his boob hand is currently tucked away in his haori

He’s never washing it again

#closet perv

“Thanks,” you smile faintly, accepting his assistance as you lift yourself from the ground

You hope he can’t hear your heartbeat 💓

He definitely can 😶

But can you hear his?

“I don’t think we should train together anymore.”

Giyuu is swift and harsh with his solutions

“Why?”

Your question comes out stiffer than intended

He hesitates, unable to interpret the fear in your tone — the longing

“I always beat you,” he explains lamely, “Don’t you get tired of losing?”

You scoff cheerfully, grinning now as you squeeze his hand

Fuck, we were still holding hands?! <— Giyuu is in shambles 😳

“I could never lose!” you declare, feelings brimming in your throat, spilling onto your tongue, “Not when I’m with you.”

Then we should absolutely stop training together would be the responsible reaction

Attachments are the most dangerous game for a Hashira to play 😕

Instead, Giyuu’s rendered speechless, unable to shake his hand from yours

“Well alright then,” he mutters, stomach churning as he narrowly avoids the warmth in your gaze

In fact, you swear he squeezes back 💓

“EXCUSE ME! I HAVE A WIFE!” 😤😤😤

“You have three wives.” 🙄

Sputtering, Tengen shrieks, “I already have plenty of breasts to touch!” 

“Tengen,” you glare, not one to back down as you jab a finger into his own chest, “You touched my boob.” 😒

“AND I’M SORRY!” 😭

Much better 😌

“I don’t know what they see in you,” you scoff (you’re also lying, you can see plenty🤭), “They’re gorgeous… and you freak out when you accidentally touch a boob.” 💀

Tengen is 100% pouting now

“I don’t freak out when I touch their boobs,” he huffs

“Well aren’t they lucky.” 😐

“You could be lucky too!”

…

…

Tengen starts running 

You give chase

“DID YOU TALK TO THEM ABOUT THIS?” 

Tengen runs faster

“TENGEN!!!!!”

Tengen runs faster and faster

You give up

*insert gasping for air here*

“DO YOUR WIVES KNOW THEY’RE MARRIED TO A COWARD???!!!”

Oh well, you’ll have to visit their estate sometime this week 🙃

You’re sure to get an answer from Hina, Makio, and Suma ☺️

And you can’t wait to see more of Tengen 😏😋

Sorry, sometimes the horny just happens 🥴

#hashira x reader #headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #gyomei x reader #obanai x reader #mitsuri x reader #shinobu x reader #kyojuro x reader #sanemi x reader #muichiro x reader #giyuu x reader #tengen x reader

[xozombiee]

“𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝒀!” | C. KAMO

✫| synopsis: emoboy!choso who works at spencer’s sees how nervous you are about trying out a new toy, so he offers to help!

warnings: sex toy usage, pet names as always :3 (sweetheart, honey, baby, etc), lowkey switch!reader, braindead!choso at the end LMFAOO, little hair pulling, no protection used..wrap it up. uhhh idk what else

notes: uhh guys pretend that batteries are included for vibes LMFAOO and..do i have a thing for car sex?

your feet ache as you walk through the mall. a friend was supposed to meet you half an hour ago to go shopping for dresses, only for her to text and say ‘sorry gotta cancel’.

the public chatter of others fill your head as you walk. since you were already here, you figured you’d look around. it’s been a while since you’ve shopped for yourself, and you were in desperate need of a new vibrator.

a colorful sign from the distance catches your attention. it read ‘spencer’s’ in orangey-yellow words. they sold sex toys right? the last time you checked they did. your eyes light up, figure walking a little faster toward the store.

when you enter, you’re met with the sight of shirts on display against the wall, a rack of hoodies and sweatshirts with ugly anime designs on them, and the section with shot glasses with corny messages written on them.

you pretend to be just shopping for a few minutes, not wanting to immediately go to the back of the store. as you pick through some of the clothes on a rack, a voice startled you from behind.

“need help finding anything, ma’am?” the voice asks lowly.

turning swiftly, you’re met with the sight of a taller man. the name on his tag read ‘choso’ with a small sticker next to it. he was young, had piercings along his ears and one on his lip, and a faint pink scar along the bridge of his nose that stretched out to his cheeks.

and he was kinda cute.

you find yourself staring for longer than needed. with a quick nod, you advert your gaze to something else.

“no, no. i’m fine. thank you though.” you reply nervously.

“well, if you need anything just let me know, yeah?” he replies, sounding uninterested.

you give him another nod before he walks off, tending to other customers. watching him out of the corner of your eye, you sigh a little.

this was the reason why you needed a new vibrator immediately. any attractive male that approached you was in danger. you’re surprised you didn’t jump him when he first walked over.

when you make sure no one’s watching, you quickly make your way to the back of the store. the small pink and purple bullets and vibrators come into view as you try to casually approach.

after hiding your body between the shelves by the wall, you look at all of your options. a bullet? nah, you’d already tried that. maybe go for something bigger?

your gaze catches on a cute, pink 8.5 inch vibrator with a ‘rabbit’ attached. before you can even stop yourself, you reach for it. the box made seem like the size was nothing. with a small shrug, you clutch the box next to your thigh. you had to find something else to buy with it.

yes, buying sex toys was normal to society, but it wasn’t normal for you.

after maybe ten minutes, you cautiously make way to the cashier. your eyes are glued to the floor as you put your things up on the counter. hopefully no one would see you walking out the store with a pink dildo in your bag.

“find everything alright?” that voice says again.

you look up with wide eyes, the pierced man with two space buns staring back at you. choso held no amusement in his eyes like you thought he would; he was nonchalant if anything. you give him a nod, looking to the snacks hanging from the counter.

your voice was weak, “a little..overwhelmed, but yeah.”

he flashes you a small smile, putting the toy and socks into a bag. “overwhelmed? this your first time shopping for—” he pauses, glancing down at the bag.

it was obvious he was just trying to make conversation, but you weren’t all that interested. still, you tried to be respectful.

“er..not really. i mean, i’ve had one before, but it’s-” you cut yourself off, cringing at how pathetic you sounded. “i’ve never tried that kind before.” you answer, going a little quiet at the end.

he raises a brow, “never had one with the rabbit?” he asks without really putting thought into his words.

a small nervous laugh falls from you, shaking your head in reply. with that, he leans forward a little, his eyes scanning your figure.

“i’ll show you how to use it if you want.”

your mouth goes dry, looking at him slightly appalled.a chill went up your spine from just his words. your shaky hands move to grab your wallet, brain attempting to find the words wanting to be freed from your throat.

you blink a few times, “you’ll show me? as in..”

choso looks at you, the uninterested expression still on his face. “my shift ends in twenty. i’m parked on the side by macy’s.” he says, watching a few people walk into the store.

now…you’d be an idiot to not meet him. but the contemplation was there. you could just go home, try the toy out yourself. that’d be the sane thing to do.

however, you hadn’t used that small little bullet on your bedside in months since buying a new one was always something you brushed off. so, you weren’t gonna miss this chance to get some dick.

you insert your card into the reader, feeling choso’s eyes on you. when the small device rings, you take it out, putting it back in your wallet.

he hands you the bag, your fingers brushing over his as you take it. it was like an electric current ran into your arm by his touch. you chew on the skin inside your cheek, feet staying planted in front of the counter despite your head telling you to move.

“i’ll see you in twenty.” you say, slowly walking away from the counter.

choso watches you in surprise. he partly only said that for a reaction, the sadist in him wanting to see your cute little eyes widen from his words.

when you exit the store, turning around the corner and leaving his sight with your cute skirt flowing, the crotch in his sweats begin to harden. it left little for an imagination choso wouldn’t need now, and every tomorrow, he hopes.

twenty minutes seem to pass quickly. you stand outside the macy’s entrance, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. the doors slide open, the sound catching your attention. you look up to see choso, space buns and all.

he nods toward the parking lot, motioning for you to follow. and you do, like a clueless puppy. choso leads you to a black colored toyota parked in the back of the lot.

his thumb presses one of the buttons on his keys, unlocking the car with a noise. he pulls you to the passengers side, opening the door for you. his hand finds your lower back as you climb inside. when he assures you’re in all the way, he closes the door.

you watch him from inside, his legs carrying him to the drivers side slower than you’d prefer. when he gets in, he settles into the seat with a soft groan. his hand finds the ignition, slotting the key in and turning it to start the car.

it rumbles lightly, the sound filling the silence between you two. you watch as he turns the wheel with one hand as the car starts to move.

minutes start to pass as you watch him, not even questioning where you were going. he could’ve been taking you somewhere to kill you..would you care? not really.

when he finally parks, you’re in a more secluded area of the mall parking lot. he was near the empty sears that had been closed for about five years, the blue sign still hanging high up.

choso glances over at you, or rather the bag in your lap that you clutched tightly onto.

“open it up.”

you blink at him for a second before complying, hands moving to unravel it from the bag. your delicate fingers try to tear the tape off of it, but struggle as it’s not letting up against the box.

he notices, lip twitching at the side as he watched. one of his hands come up to your wrist, taking the box in his other. you watch as he slowly pulls a blade from his pocket, cutting through the tape with ease.

choso notices your expression, the confusion written all over it as your eyes continue to look at the blade.

he chuckles, closing it and putting it back into his pants. “i was opening some new merch that came in the store today. forgot to give it back to yuki.”

you let a small ‘oh’ fall from your lips in understanding. choso takes the box back into his grasp, unraveling the toy from its packaging. the sight of something pink comes into view, and your eyes widen at how small it looks in his hand.

choso fidgets with it, “you said you’ve never tried one of these?”

“no.” you reply, keeping your eyes trained on the object in his hand. “i’ve only ever used one of the bullets.”

he sighs a little, looking up at you. “get in the back.”

you look at him, brows raised in surprise, “what?”

the pierced male leans forward, his face inches from your own. “get in the back.”

despite the music from the car’s stereo playing lowly in the background, your audible gulp overpowered it. you let out a shaky breath as you move to your knees, climbing into the backseat of the car.

he watches you, the skirt you wore lifting up as you shoved yourself in the back. choso followed soon after, moving to sit beside you in the closed space.

you watch him from the other side of the backseat with your shoulders pressed against the window. one of your legs propped itself onto the seat between you two, the other on the floorboard.

choso glances down at your underwear that was shying underneath the cloth on your legs. a small wet patch adorned the lacy piece you wore. his hand slowly moves to you ankle, his thumb moving back and forth against your skin.

“is it okay if i touch you?” he asks in a whisper.

a quick nod comes from you in response. your eager eyes watch him, expecting him to move closer to you.

his hand trails up further on your leg, “words, sweetheart.”

“please, choso.” you whine, enjoying that electric feeling from his skin on yours again.

choso gives you a sympathetic look. “please what? need you to be specific, honey.”

“touch me.”

he lets his hand move up your leg, making its way to your upper thigh. one side of your skirt pushes up, giving him a clearer view of your underwear. he smiles slightly at the cute purple lining that stuck to your lower stomach.

you feel his hand pull you down a little by your hip, back fully against the seat. his hand moves back to stay planted on your stomach, the fabric of your skirt now in his palm. his other hand picks the dildo back up that sat on the console, pressing onto the ‘on’ button.

the sound echos through the car, making the anxiety in your stomach build up. choso looks down at you, his hooded eyes boring into your soul.

he doesn’t give you a warning before he’s pressing the baby pink toy to your underwear. a small gasp evokes from you, back arching against the seat. choso slowly moves his hand on your stomach down to your hip, keeping that side in place.

everything felt heavenly. vibrations moved into your cunt, making your chest heave. your thighs want to shut together, but choso’s body keeps you from doing so.

“shh. you’re okay, baby.” he mutters, continuing to press the vibrator into the fabric.

you let out soft groans and gasps when the toy hits against your clit just right. when you feel that euphoric tightness in your lower stomach, your hand moves to clutch onto choso’s wrist.

“wait-” you whisper out, “want more.”

choso raises his brows, continuing his movement with the toy against you. your head falls back, hand clutching onto his wrist as the pressure builds up.

your jaw slightly hangs open but no words were escaping your lips, just soft cries. choso watched the scene intently as you squeezed your eyes shut and your body spasmed. you came hard, drenching those lace panties even more with your cum.

the sound of your heart beat in your ears lets you know you’re still alive. you listen as choso turns the toy off momentarily. “that was quick.” he comments as your heavy breaths fill the car.

you open your eyes to shoot a meaningless glare at him. he doesn’t say anything, only rubbing small circles on your hip.

“it was barely anything.” he says with a small shrug, “we should test it out with the panties off.”

with a small nod and ‘yes’ requested from him, his fingers start to dip underneath the band of the purple underwear. choso slides them off with ease after letting you lift your hips to get them closer to the ground.

you feel the somewhat cool air hit your pussy that was glistening. a sudden burst of vulnerability comes over you as you press your thighs together to hide from the man that sits in front of you.

his fingers move up your calves, up to the side of your thighs. he brushes them gently, keeping eye contact with you. “don’t need to hide from me, honey.”

at that, you slowly return to your state from before. he watches your pretty pussy come into view, his gaze going sinister at the sight. choso moves one of his hands to the edge of your core, hovering his palm just above your clit.

“so gorgeous.” he mutters, mostly to himself.

the sound of the toy starts up again. you’d figure he’d give a warning before putting it in, but he doesn’t. choso watches your eyes widen as he inserts all four inches of the dildo inside, the rabbit moving along your clit.

an unfamiliar hunger overtook his existence as he watched you squirm underneath him. choso slowly slotted the pink toy back and forth inside of you. you struggled to find something to hold as the pleasure took over your senses.

your hand is suddenly enwrapped by his, that electric current returning to your skin. he moves it to rest beside your head, his other hand maneuvering against you.

the sound of your pleasure almost makes choso’s head spin. he wants nothing more than to throw the plastic toy out of the window and shove his dick all the way into you. but he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself. you seemed like such a sweet girl, and he didn’t want to ruin that.

“mm..’m close, choso.” you rasp, looking into his eyes. “don’t wanna cum with that.”

choso looks at you dumbfounded, trying to process your words. he watches you reach for his hand, pulling the pink toy away from your pussy.

you lean up, pressing your forehead against his. “would you fuck me if i asked nicely?”

“don’t bother.”

not even a millisecond passes after his words before his lips are attaching to yours. choso discards the toy to the front seats, pulling you closer to him.

you feel the hardness under his sweats pressing into you. with a small wiggle of your hips, he lets out a sigh into your lips. his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you up from laying against the seat.

choso places you into his lap, hands curled around the back of your thighs. his head moves upward to keep the connection between your tongues. you bite down onto his bottom lip, and his hands squeeze your flesh.

“please.” you murmur against him, “don’t tease, choso.”

he pulls his mouth away from yours, looking into those gorgeous irises you held. “i like the way you say my name.” he whispers.

you feel his hands remove themselves from you, going to the waistband of his sweats. within a moment, they’re pulled to his thighs. choso looks up at you in anticipation.

“goin’ at your pace, baby.”

your hands fall onto his built chest as you sink all the way down on him, driving the entirety of him deep within you. his hands fly to your hips when it you flutter around him, but then grabs for your wrist on his chest, intertwining your fingers with his.

a moment passes before you begin to lift your hips up and down, pushing his length through you. your movements, your warm skin, fluttering eyes—it's so overwhelming for choso. his head falls back, and even though you’re going at such a slow pace, it feels like you’re milking him, intent on making him fill you to the brim.

choso looks up at you, his brows furrowed with sweat building between them. his face is flushed, highlighting the scar on his nose. you almost cum right then and there from the sight of him looking so desperate.

when you speed up, he groans loudly. “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

moving closer to his ear, “that was the intent.” you whisper.

he unsuccessfully stifles a groan when your breath meets his ear. his hands are loosely closed around your thighs, not even wanting to press you tighter against him because his brain is practically melting.

you tug on the buns in his hair, forcing him to lock his gaze with yours. the pain in his scalp doesn’t phase him, in fact, he feels himself getting closer from the feeling. he watches your expression change with each thrust, holding him in your hand like a puppet.

“so fuckin’ pretty, choso.” you gasp, kissing up his neck.

he inhales sharply from your praise, “fuck—”

you looked godly--his savior, and your pussy was one squeeze away from sending him to heaven. you were giving him this gift of riding him and god he was so grateful for it--for you.

“feels ‘s good,” he whimpers, looking at you through half lidded eyes.

when you feel him twitch inside of you, your legs find what’s left of the energy you have left to quicken your pace even more. "come on baby, come on," you whisper to him.

he isn't used to this. he isn't used to being guided to his orgasm first, but he his brain is dissociating. he can't think of anything else--he's lost control over his brain and he feels himself tip over the edge of an orgasm.

choso groans when you flutter around him as you cum. he’s thrusting his hips up into you with a newfound force. it requires you to tighten your grip on his shoulders to stay put as he empties his load deep inside you, his sweet moans intercepted with apologies.

hours could’ve gone by, and you wouldn’t realize it. your body lays atop of him, hands lazily gripping onto his shoulders. choso doesn't pull out his cock, keeping it buried inside of you.

his hands are locked together, circled around your waist. his breathing has evened out along with yours, and the only thing filling the silence is the radio that’s barely above zero on the stereo.

“so..did you like the toy?”

#xozombiee #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso smut #choso my beloved #choso x female reader #choso my beautiful babygirl #jjk #jjk x reader #CHOSO PLEASEE LET ME RIDE JT #i’m so normal about him guys

[fatesundress]

⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader

part i here.

summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)

tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.

note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡

word count. 6.3k

The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.

You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.

“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”

You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”

Pot. Kettle. Whatever.

“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”

You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.

You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”

She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”

And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.

“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.

You have, of course, trained for this. 

It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.

Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.

His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.

“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same. 

You deserve applause for this.

“Tired?”

“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.

“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.

“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”

“...Hm.”

That’s it. That’s all you get from him.

And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.

“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”

He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.

You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.

Well. Perhaps not, then.

You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.

And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.

You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.

“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”

“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”

“You are such a —”

You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it. 

“Just — go then, before I hex you.”

“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”

“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”

You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.

“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.

You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.

Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.

It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.

“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”

You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.

You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.

What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction? 

You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.

“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.

Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.

You manage a simple, “And yet.”

“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet. 

You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.

“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.

“I think so. Why?”

“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”

Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.

It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.

“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”

Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.

“Pity.”

Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.

You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —

"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"

“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”

God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner. 

There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.

“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s hardly charity.”

“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”

You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.

“You look lovely.”

It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”

And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.

He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.

His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”

What?

You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —

“Unbelievable…”

He quirks a brow. “What was that?”

“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”

“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”

He — that was —

“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”

“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”

You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.

Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”

You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.

“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”

Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.

“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”

“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”

“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”

No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.

But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”

Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.

“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”

You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.

“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.

You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.

Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”

You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party. 

Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.

If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.

And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.

And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.

And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.

He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.

His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.

You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.

You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.

“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.

The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten. 

This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.

“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again." 

You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?

You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.

You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.

It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.

His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him. 

He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.

You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins. 

This is not like that.

You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.

You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.

His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.

How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?

And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.

You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.

His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.

“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks. 

At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them. 

Tom smiles. “Hm, you did." 

And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.

“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"

Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.

His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.

And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.

Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.

You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”

That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”

His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.

But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.

You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.

“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.” 

Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)

He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything —  is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.

More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.

It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.

“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.

As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.

His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.

Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting. 

He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.

His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.

But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.

You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.

And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.

When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.

A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers. 

When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.

Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.

Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.

You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient. 

But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.

There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still. 

Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”

Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.

And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in. 

It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.

Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.

His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him. 

“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.

You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.

It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.

You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.

“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”

Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.

He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.

And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.

The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.

You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.

But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.

You did say he was yours.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #NO LONGER! #but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: don’t ask me why I did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You watch as the man looks along the door frame; back and forth, up and down. He knocks again and you flinch. You back up as you push on the door, as if it can make the barrier thicker. 

“Come on, baby cakes, I know you’re in there,” he says, “I just brought you a treat. It’s Wednesday... hump day, some call it.” 

You step back and hit the table. You squeak and wince away from it, rubbing your forearm where it met the corner. This can’t be happening. He can’t be there. How did he find you? 

“London fog, or whatever? It’s the one you like,” he calls, a taunting tinge in his voice. 

“Go away,” you force out. 

You hear a snort and a softer tap on the wood, “come on, jelly bean, I know you’re a sweet girl. Don’t be like that. It’s a nice gesture so don’t be rude.” 

You shake your head and turn, rushing away to grab your phone from your desk. You fumble to unlock it and come back to hover, just a few feet from the door. You can see his shadow underneath, seeping in through the crack. 

“I’m...” you gulp dryly, “I’ll call the police.” 

“Go ahead,” he sneers as the door shifts. He must be leaning on it. 

You don’t say anything else. There’s not point arguing with this man and no point calling the police. They don’t come when your neighbours scream all night long. You just go back to your desk and sit. 

You look at the monitor and skim the document, trying to refocus. Where were you? You can’t remember. 

“You’re really gonna hang me out to dry?” He raises his voice so you can hear. 

You just shake your head and type. He’s not there. The door is locked and you’re all alone. This is your apartment. Your life. It’s Wednesday and you already have your tea. Your tea! 

You get up and go to the kitchen to retrieve the lukewarm Earl Grey. Oh well. Just means you don’t need milk. You take it back to your desk. 

“It’s the quiet ones you gotta look out for,” the man says as the floor creaks and betrays your movement, “not as nice as they look.” 

You stop just at the end of the entryway and look over. His shadow shifts and retreats. You listen to his footsteps recede. You should go over and make sure he’s gone but you’re too afraid to go anywhere near the door. It’s like those recurring dreams where the door is always unlocked and you just can’t twist it back into place. 

You stand there for a while before you can make yourself move again. You return to your desk again. You clasp your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking as the screen blurs in your vision. 

Should you call the police anyway? 

You grab the mouse and swirl it around. You open the notes app and type in last Wednesday’s date. 

‘Man approached me at cafe. Grabbed my order. Followed me out and down the street.’ 

Your hands shake over the keys before you enter that day’s date. 

‘Same man appeared at my apartment. Did not let him in. Left after several minutes.’ 

You check the autosave and click out. You watched too many shows with similar scenarios. There wasn’t much to do but to keep track. The police won’t listen if you have no record. Even then, it’s not likely. This is why you hide from the world. It’s too dangerous. 

You bring your last task back up and squint at the handwritten notes scanned crookedly. It’s difficult to fall into your usual process. You’re typically a quick worker but you have to think of every word. You can’t focus past that man’s spectre. 

Your nape itches as if he’s still looming right outside your door. As if you might look over and he’ll be standing right there. That thought has you sitting back, recoiling from the computer as you make yourself look at the doorway. Empty. 

You get up and approach the entryway. You have to urge yourself forward, “it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay...” you whisper to yourself. You clutch the seams of your pants as you near the door. You turn and stand on your toe. You close one eye and press it to the hole. It's black. You can’t see a thing. 

Oh no. 

That’s not good. 

You get down on your knees and hands and been to see beneath the door. You only see a narrow little shadow. It could be nothing at all.  

You sit back on your heels and your heart pounds. You shouldn’t look but you have to. You can’t function no knowing for sure. 

You stand and check that the chain is in place. You turn the lock back and slowly twist the handle. You inch it open, a hand flat on the wood, your shoulder braced, ready to push back against any force. You peer around and find the hallways empty. 

All except the pink cup at the threshold. Just standing there. Taunting you. 

You shut the door, nearly slamming it, and lock it once more. You turn and put your back to it. You exhale and shake out your fingers, the crescents of your nails imprinted in your palm. 

He’s gone, but you’re not to certain he won’t be back. 

👄

You submit your last task for the day, an hour later than usual. You shouldn’t be this far behind. You didn’t even go to the cafe. You should be sixty minutes in the other direction. 

You shut off the computer and stand. The stiff wooden chair always leaves you numb but achy. The cushion you put on the seat doesn’t help very much either. What’s especially agitating is the tension locked between your vertebrae. 

That man. You haven’t stopped thinking of him. Not just today, but really all week. Since that first time you saw him. He was easier to deny then, but now... he could just be waiting for you on the other side of those walls. 

You shudder and carry your untouched tea into the kitchen and dump it. You hadn’t drank a single sip, you haven’t even eaten. You’re not hungry. Your sick to your stomach. 

Restless, riled, and rigid. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Usually, you’d read for a while, or watch TV, those old forgotten 70s shows that other people call boring. Yet you know, you can’t find comfort in any of that. 

Even behind closed doors and drawn curtains, you can’t feel safe. The thought of making the phone call flickers again but you know better than that. You’ve peeked through the windows as the sirens flash, watched as the police offered nothing more than dismissals and remonstrances not to waste their time to the woman with the bruised cheekbone. It’s just the same as it was when you were a kid. That makes you still feel like one. 

Are you talking yourself out of it because you’re scared or stupid or because it’s the truth? It’s hard to know. You never go out of you way to talk to anyone if you can help it. It’s always of utmost necessity. This might be one of those moments but you’re embarrassed. You don’t want to let anyone into the life and if you call someone, you have to do just that. You have let them in. You can’t. 

So you won’t. 

You sit on the sofa and cross your arms. You won’t let anyone in and you won’t go out. You’ll stay here. Maybe he’ll think he got the wrong place. Maybe he’ll give up. You can outlast him, right? 

👄

There’s a rattle in the window. It keeps you awake. You fixate on it. You blame the knot in your chest on it. 

Not on the memory, the persistent chill rolling up and down your spine. It’s the window not him. Not that stranger. He’s gone so why are you still thinking of him. 

You keep the lamp on. The darkness is too much. You lay staring at the the refraction circle interspliced with the metal frame on the ceiling. The curve is slightly skewed by the angle. The window rattles again. 

You huff. You’ll put a book against it to hold it steady. You go to the shelf on the wall and take the heaviest hardcover you can find. You take it to the window and curl your fingers around the edge of the curtain. It feels like stone. You can’t make yourself move it. 

You take a breath and pull it away from the frame but don’t look outside. You lean the book on the frame, pushing it snug until you’re sure. You pause, a glint gleaming off the pane. You let go of the book and stare at the brief spark of light, an odd glare. 

You inch close to the frame and peek around. You search the sky, a few stars glimmering through the city haze, the moon in a crescent. You search the silhouette of the city and the flicker comes again, this time directly in your eye. You’re drawn to the movement. 

You back up and look down at you rub your eyelid. What was that? The curtain fall back into place but the light pierces through. You follow the odd laserlike beam centered on your chest. You put your hand over the green dot there and it shines on your skin. What the hell? 

You dodge out of the way in disbelief and stare at the laser at it hits the wall instead. It’s bold, even in the hue of the lamp. It moves up, then down, side to side, then stops. You hold your breath. This isn’t some strange phenomenon. There’s someone out there, doing this. You know who. 

You watch the beam terrified. You’ve only ever seen something like that in movies. It’s more than those little red lights you buy for cats. It’s strong, thick. That’s a target and it had just been right on you. 

You rub your chest subconsciously and suddenly, the lightly moves. You watch as it swerves around so fast to make a precise shape. A shape you can’t believe. A shape you must be imagining. It stops, centered again on the wall, then retraces the same figure. 

A heart. 

That can’t be. It’s not real. Your dreaming. 

You close your eyes and cover your ears, bending your legs as your curl your shoulders over your knees. You fall onto your side, balled into a fetal position as you shake your head. It’s a dream! Wake up, wake up, wake up... 

👄

The morning rises to a thumping in your temples. You don’t know if it’s the lack off food or sleep. You’re wrought and worn from a night spent hiding from reality. 

Water. Your mouth is dry. You’re dehydrated. You haven’t been paying attention to the cues. You haven’t wanted to be in this body. 

You unfold yourself and sit up. You stare at the wall. The dot is gone. Is he? 

You hang one leg over the edge, then the other. You nearly retract them. Like a child, you could believe in a monster under the bed. You push yourself to your feet and stagger forward. 

You nearly fall through the open door into the main room of your apartment. You shuffle forward, rubbing your forehead as a sandy fog clings to your lashes. You stumble into the kitchen and lean on the counter as you fill a glass with water. You gulp until you feel queasy. 

You put the glass down and flinch at your own force. You back away and wipe the stray droplets from your fingertips. You turn and teeter back into the front room. You need to get your head on straight, you have a full day of work ahead of you still. 

You look towards the front door. You cross your arms protectively. You inch forward and turn to face it. You bring yourself to your toes and lean in. You still can’t see through the peep hole. You stand flat again and frown. 

You go back to the kitchen and turn the kettle on. You have instant coffee in the mornings. It’s fast and efficient. No clunky machine or ridiculous press. You just need the boost. 

You open the cupboard and take down the box of single packets. You slip one out and count the rest. It’s a newer box. There’s ten left. You look up and consider the bag of minute-oats. If you parse back your typical serving, that can last a little longer. You don’t need sugar in it either, that you can spare. The pasta you can ration as well. The sauce has a shelf-life once open. 

You put down the packet and set the box back on the shelf. You leave the cupboard door open and go to the fridge. The eggs won’t expire for two weeks but you only have half a dozen left. The milk will go quicker. The butter... that never runs out very quickly, it hardly matters. 

Are you really meting out how to wait out this man? Are you really stooping to this? Your defense is no defense. You’re just going to hunk down and hope he goes away. What else can you do? 

You can’t go anywhere. You can’t even see out to make sure he’s not waiting for you. You could order groceries but that means also opening the door. How would you know it wasn’t him knocking?  

He’ll get bored. He has to. It’s your only hope. 

#the quiet ones #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #the gray man

[ncteez]

The perks of being that guy (l.jh.)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion. 

or the one where jihoon is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and, well, other things. 

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give woozi a lil kiss 

minors dni!! 

WORDCOUNT― 14k

PAIRING― jihoon x afab reader 

CONTENT― strangers to lovers like immediately, long fluffy hair jihoon!!!!,  you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening. 

NOTE― a present for u all because i hit a milestone of 5000 followers!! this was only supposed to be like 5k words but i guess i was in love with him this whole time. anyway, this is not proof read bc i think u guys know by now that im not about that life, so if you find a typo– don’t tell me i will delete everything out of embarrassment. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jihoon!!!! he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship,  unprotected sex (just wrap it guys, im too lazy to write a condom scene), sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to not write smut where he wants to look directly at you, back scratches (sexual) ~

~

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing. 

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips. 

“I’m fine with my choice, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant…?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle it without said lube purchase. 

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long, he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo. 

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond.

“I think I know what I can take and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jihoon’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows everyone in this town’s kinks after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets and he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly. 

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of rosy tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing. 

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains. 

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet, timid man who shows up with pans of food for events. 

The guests seem to love him, and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being. 

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

~

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion. 

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. Upon your eyes meeting his though, he could tell it was you simply by your furrowed brow as you recognized him. 

Jihoon couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him, because it’s very true that many people feel too vulnerable when buying those kinds of items. 

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family. And by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to help explain  or describe what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance. 

He follows you down the line, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed though.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from. 

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another. 

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a grin. 

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jihoon. See you around.” 

You’re heading away from the table of food and now toward your saved spot at the table of family that you missed the most. Your same-age cousins, the ones you grew up with and made mud pies for your parents with during summer evenings. 

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing to the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures. 

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.” 

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life. 

~

Okay so you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jihoon? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone. 

His personality seemed different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks it’s funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills. 

“How many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. Then he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down. 

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point. 

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not be to like about him. Unfortunately, you’re not finding much to take note of. 

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster.” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing at his panic though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him. 

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes. 

He pauses, his panic easing after taking note of your easy personality and banter towards him. 

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again. “Correction, they should be worried.” 

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.” 

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to discuss this at your own family reunion at least.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare down at it. 

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him. 

Honestly, he might actually see you within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale. 

~

Unfortunately for you, upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. Your head slamming into the steering wheel with a sigh that’s probably loud enough for the entire town to hear.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home, because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you spent at your parent’s house? You refuse to ask yourself questions.

Just as you prepare to head back inside, taking the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.

That savior is none other than Jihoon walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise. 

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield. 

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jihoon shakes his head apologetically. 

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door. 

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well. 

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible. 

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jihoon nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock even if he hits the sack at 7pm without even cleaning up the yard. 

~

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jihoon looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window. 

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff. 

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Know that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in their driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything. 

Jihoon unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. Of course it is. 

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?” 

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him. 

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about his car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, i couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jihoon pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question. 

“Was that too forward to ask?” 

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does. 

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.” 

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…” You comment quietly, glancing at him. 

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.” 

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.” 

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening. 

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?” 

Oh fuck, he’s right. 

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you. 

“Where to then, y/n?” 

~

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. Not at least without hanging out a few times. 

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question. 

“Where to then?” 

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him. 

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.” 

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot. 

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over. 

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote. 

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine. 

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it. 

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone. 

“You know, no one buys toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.” 

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass. 

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase. 

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip. 

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again. 

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus. 

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Butthole 1, and Jessica.”

“Jessca?!” 

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile. 

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too. 

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable. 

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.” 

You nod energetically. 

“Jesse and James.” 

“Oh my god, how did you know that?” 

You narrow your eyes again. He’s gotta be a fucking nerd to get the reference, even if everyone knows what pokemon is. 

“So the pussy is Jesse, and the asshole is James.” 

He nods slowly, acting surprised before smirking yet again. 

“Actually, I only have one but I’ve experimented with other things that come through the door. Might as well, right?”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He shoots back.

“Okay, enough about my dildo, I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Shoot.”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, so you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, unsure of what could be so embarrassing. 

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a dude torso with a normal length and girth?”

Jihoon fucking snorts. How mundane. Unfortunately for you though, Nope. 

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got women sex dolls but he’s never really even mentioned just like…a dildo attached to some sort of form that is shaped like a person.”

You shrug. 

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, this time unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more. 

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get thigh fucked mid-orgasm.”

You glare. 

“Dude, no, because it actually hurt.”

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your…” he pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now. 

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off. 

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself like that just now.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, laughing along with him as you actually start to look at him.

You noticed that he was handsome before. Normally employees of shops like those are nonchalant normal people, or strange old men who try to impose their kinks onto you. Jihoon though. Jihoon. Hmm, how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his wide smile and pretty eyes. He may not be the tallest man you’ve ever looked at like this but damn is he thick. Like his thighs. Damn, the thighs. Even him now  compared to him when he was catering for your family, he’s so much more handsome.

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… You don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm. 

“You know, Jihoon,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening. 

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off. 

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second. 

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?” 

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed. 

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time. 

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.” 

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad. 

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out. 

Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential. 

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help that fluttering feeling in his chest.

~

It's almost midnight by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you. 

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you. 

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again. 

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite book. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction. 

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance. 

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.” 

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.” 

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at one in the morning and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership. 

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange? 

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.” 

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically. 

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce. 

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges. 

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.” 

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?” 

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you. 

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for probably super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer. 

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows. 

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much. 

“A man.” You respond, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.” 

You snort. 

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.” 

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was. 

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond. 

“I can imagine so, yeah.” 

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together. 

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so. 

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink. 

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment. 

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other. 

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, just hovering over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his. 

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would. 

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all fucking day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily. 

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly. 

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile. 

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss. 

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him. 

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you. 

“Was I wrong though? Can it do this for you?” 

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out onto the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you. 

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes. 

“Actually, say what you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to set against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in. 

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it was stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him. 

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him. 

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?” 

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jihoon seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now. 

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day. 

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.” 

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room. 

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn to face him once he comes inside. 

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable. 

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change. 

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you. 

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table. 

He had no idea what the fuck you were referring to until he saw it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jihoon tics his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer. 

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him. 

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is. 

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now. 

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys. 

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind. 

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually. 

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like? 

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?” 

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer. 

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?” 

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you. 

“With you? I guess I do.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you. 

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before. 

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier. 

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your shoulder and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky. 

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you had your lights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died. 

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way. 

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing his fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his fringe hangs. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you. 

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair. 

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.” 

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too. 

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing alone your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you. 

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too. 

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back. 

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks so fucking pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day at the creases of them. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension.

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over you head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you, yeah?” He laughs, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Am I not supposed to?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs. 

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude. 

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on on hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your pussy. “No promises now, though.”

You laugh, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your laugh off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss. 

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again. 

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— Such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands. 

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit. 

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering. 

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control. 

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your ribs, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right there before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again. 

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses toward you, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Before you can actually respond, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly cupping your entire pussy.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit. 

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly. 

You can feel them stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good though. 

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his playful smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers. 

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.” 

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want. 

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties. 

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally. 

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you. 

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?” 

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?” 

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the confidence to just tell him. 

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bare to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure. 

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment. 

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing his a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him. 

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it though, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on your fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance. 

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them. 

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have you legs shaking. 

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it. 

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want. 

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you. 

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster now, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now. 

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs. 

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs. 

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it. 

“Take it out?” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want. 

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off. 

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head. 

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering. 

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your core. 

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fucking fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually. 

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides. 

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you? 

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist. 

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him. 

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check. 

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds? 

“Jihoon,” You say, slightly out of breath. 

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen consistently pressing into it. He could have come from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long, but now? 

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately. 

“Fuck,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.” 

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already come just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your literal pussy, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy. 

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest. 

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, so does he. 

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace. 

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jihoon though, he’s in love with seeing remnants of you tomorrow.

Obsessed with the sting of it, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this. 

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner. 

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit. 

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily. 

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you go barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–” 

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation. 

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely filly. Jihoon really is something, or, someone. 

The two of you released together, and his lips fell slack just like yours did. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop. 

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jihoon is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess. 

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

~

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work. 

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for a day at the sex-shop. 

He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you. 

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

#woozi smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #jihoon smut #lee jihoon smut #lee woozi smut

[morganbritton132]

Hi, I binge read the entirety of your EMTTS and i absolutely love it! I wanted to thank you for your dedication and for how much you made me laugh. It's really great to find a saga that's funny and also gut-wrenching and written by someone who's a) very talented and b) clearly loves the characters and makes them very well rounded even in little snippets of life. So thank you!!

I also can't stop thinking about the initial "is Dustin a person or a dog" confusion and how much it reminds me of that episode of B99 where everyone's asking subtle questions to their coworker to understand if Kelly is his wife or dog, like "did you two go on any nice walks recently?" and i can see someone like David trying it and failing

Thank you so much for so many kind words and I’m glad that you’re enjoying the series because I am too! (Also, super impressed you got through it because it’s a lot!). I love that cold opening of Brooklyn 99 and it was the inspiration for that tag.

Also, I love the idea of the first-year teachers trying to figure out if Dustin is a person or a dog. That’s brilliant!

And what’s funny is that David’s not even wrong in this situation.

He is like 99% sure that Dustin is the name of Steve’s brother, but he’s been wrong about literally everything else, so this debate continues into its third week at their table in the teacher’s lounge.

David argues, “I’ve heard him refer to Dustin as a kid.”

“People call their dogs their fur babies all the time,” Marissa argues back. “He’s had that dog for a few years, right? Certainly not a baby anymore so, kid.”

It is not helped by the fact that none of them have any memory of ever hearing Steve address his service dog by name. They’ve heard him call him ‘buddy.’ They’ve heard him say ‘c’mon, pal.’ There was even an unenthused ‘Ozz-some’ last week when Ozzy alerted Steve to an impending seizure during his lunch break.

Have any of them thought of looking at the dog’s collar? No.

They haven’t even considered asking a student.

They are in the middle of this debate when Steve comes into the teacher’s lounge to refill his coffee mug for the third time that day. If he notices that the room goes quiet every time he walks in, he doesn’t make any indication of it when he smiles tiredly, “Hey, guys.”

They murmur their hellos and give each other significant looks, daring the others to ask the important questions. No one asks. No one actually says anything until Steve yawns.

“Long night?”

“Yeah, definitely. Dustin had me up ‘til two in the morning,” Steve yawns again. He doesn’t notice how everybody perks up at that. “Poor guy gets so anxious this time of year.”

“Oh, really?” Marissa asks, giving David a look that says ‘see, dog.’. “Because of the homecoming fireworks?”

Steve hums in agreement and shakes his head like he sometimes does when he’s shaking a memory loose. He’s speaking more to himself when he adds, “I think I’m going to take him to the park after work. Get some fresh air, some exercise. He’s been cooped up for too long.”

“Anyways,” Steve says with a smile, tipping his coffee mug to them. “Gotta get back to grading papers.”  

#Does Chicago have a homecoming or is that a small town thing? #Also something to consider is that Kathy hangs out with these people and she is a 2nd year teacher so she met Dustin at Career Day last yea #She could end the debate but she's not going to #Personally I love expanding on these teachers #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #dustin henderson

[lightsoutletsgo]

gotta go my own way — ln.4

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst to absolute crack and stupidity that makes no sense

request: Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to

I fully thank @norrizzandpia for the hot mess that is the end of this fic. we couldn't stop cry laughing once we pictured the rest of the grid watching them sing the song and thus the end of the fic was born. (also credits to them bc I stole some of the dialogue lines they sent to my dm's!) happy reading! mimi 🤍 (I'm so so sorry if this isn't the request fill you were hoping for 😭)

taglist (all works): @arieslost - babe I'm so sorry I'm tagging you in this mess

“Y/N wait!!” You heard Lando call your name from the opposite side of the hotel courtyard and you turned to see him sprinting after you. You stopped and rested your suitcase next to you as he reached you, “Where are you going? Baby we can talk about this!” His hand reached for your arm and you stepped back with a sigh, “Lando… Listen…” He looked at you, pleading as he searched your face, “I guess I just need to say it straight right?” Your heart clenched, god knows this wasn’t easy, “Something about us just… doesn’t seem right these days…” You tried to speak as gently as possible, wanting Lando to understand you weren’t mad at him. “Neither one of us can help it, I know that, but it feels like whatever we try and do somehow the plan is always rearranged…” You trailed off, stepping back towards him and taking his hand gently. You didn’t look up at him, instead choosing to look at where his hand was now gently squeezing yours, his thumb rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion. Whether it was to soothe you or himself you weren’t sure but you took a deep breath to calm yourself. 

He didn’t say a thing, just gave you the space to continue talking, “I knew what I signed up for when I started dating you and if I went back and did it all over again I wouldn’t change my mind. I guess I just didn’t expect that it would affect my life so much? My job, my friends, my family?” Your eyes flitted up to his and you noticed how there were tears now pricking the corner of his eyes. “So what are you saying?” Your bottom lip trembled as you shrugged apologetically, “I’ve got to move on and be who I am…” It was so silent that you hardly dared to breathe. “Lando I’ve tried, I really really have but… Losing my privacy? Losing my time with the other people I love? Sacrificing my job? I just-” Lando scoffed and took his hand away from you “But what about us? What about everything we’ve been through?” “Well what about trust and everything that I’ve given up for you?!” You couldn’t help the way you raised your voice, Lando flinched at your words, seeming to realise how blind he’d been about your struggles, 

“You know I never wanted to hurt you…” You nodded and almost shrunk in on yourself, “I know…” Lando approached you slowly, not wanting to make you feel pressured or smothered, “I just need to know… Do you not love me anymore?” You let out a forced laugh as your eyes welled up with tears, “Do I not love you anymore? Lando I still love you so much that it’s killing me to do this but I know I have to-” “Why? If you still love me then why?!” “Because if I don’t leave you now then I’ll continue to give up everything else for you because I love you that damn much but maybe for a while I need to love myself!” You ranted, panting when you finished. 

He inhaled sharply and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall as you spoke quietly, “I’m sorry- “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was firm,  “I have to go, my flight is in a couple of hours.” “I’ll miss you.” His voice was even softer, barely audible even though you were so close to him. “Who knows… maybe we’ll find our place in the world someday?” Lando gave a weak smile, “Yeah, maybe we will… Can I hug you? Just once more and then I swear, I’ll let you leave.” You nodded, unable to speak as you started crying harder.

Lando pulled you into his arms, as he too felt the tears start to fall, “I know you need to do this but it still really fucking hurts…” “I know Lando,” You pulled back to gently cup his face, “I gotta go my own way…” You smiled with a shrug. He pulled you closer to him and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, your eyes closing as you inhaled deeply. “I’ll see you round?” “Yeah,” You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and started to walk towards the door, “I’ll see you around.” ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Alex sat on the balcony of his hotel room that overlooked the courtyard, enjoying the cool night air. The door opened and out stumbled Oscar and Logan, their eyes glassy from the alcohol they’d been drinking at the afterparty. Alex chuckled, “Steady on guys.” Logan gave him a hazy half-lidded smile, “I’m okay!” Alex snorted, “Sure you are.” He turned his attention back to his laptop where his movie was paused. “Oh look! There’s Lando and Y/N!” Alex followed where Oscar was pointing to see you dragging your suitcase and Lando running after you. “Oooo I missed them! Should I call them over? HEY LA- MMPH!” Logan’s shout was muffled by Alex darting to cover his mouth, “I think they’re fighting?” Oscar looked sad as Logan tapped Alex’s arm to release him, “Surely not? They’re the perfect couple?” Alex leaned over the balcony, thankful that it was quiet enough that they could hear some of the conversation.

“What’s up guys?” The door on the balcony of the room next door slid open and out stepped George and Charles, “Lando and Y/N are fighting?” “Lando and Y/N? There’s no way! They’ll work it out.” Charles said confidently shrugging. Oscar’s brows furrowed suddenly, “Are you guys hearing that music too?” George frowned and craned his ears, “Why does that sound like High School Musical?” “Alex, is your film playing?” Logan asked innocently, “You were watching High School Musical?” Oscar snickered, “NO!” “I don’t know if I should be more concerned that we’re hearing music coming from nowhere or that George knew what it was straight away…” George scoffed at Charles, “Excuse me but the second movie has the best songs.” 

“Is no one else concerned that it’s coming from where Lando and Y/N are?” Oscar pointed out. “Oh God they’re singing.” Alex’s jaw dropped open, “Shut up they’re not?” “I promise you they are.” George and Charles paused for a moment to look at each other before scrambling out of George’s room and down the hallway to Alex’s. They burst into the room and pushed their way onto the balcony, squishing in between Oscar and Alex to lean over the railing. Charles slapped a hand over his mouth as he heard Lando sing the next line very loudly and out of tune, “Are they high?” George pondered out loud, “What exactly is going on?” “Well it can’t be a fight, there’s no way that’s a fight.” Logan spoke matter of factly, “Do you think they’re aware of what they’re doing?” Their expressions varied as you warbled out a somewhat high note, 

“More than that, do you think they know we can hear them?” Logan’s hand came up to cover his ear, “Should we stop them?” Charles asked, “Nope!” “Absolutely not.” George and Alex spoke across each other as Oscar’s phone appeared out of nowhere in his hand and he held it up to start filming. “Are they okay?” Nobody answered Logan, instead just watching you and Lando, until they heard a cough from above them. Leaning back against the balcony and tipping their heads to look up they saw Carlos looking down at them, “That, my friends, is debatable. But it is entertaining, no?” Everyone’s attention turned back to the two of you as the song came to an end and you walked away from Lando, “Oh my god guys, I think that was actually them breaking up.” Logan stated as everyone stood there in shock. Nobody spoke for a moment until Carlos’ voice filtered down from the balcony above, “Also I’ve been out here the entire time and would like to let you know that Alex was actually watching Camp Rock.” 

#mimi.writes #mimi.requests #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 angst #f1 crack #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #lando norris angst #f1 oneshot

[cypherthesuccubus]

I’m not done with you yet….darling~

Alastor x Reader -Part 2- (NSFW)(MDNI)!!!!

WARNINGS: smut, blood kink, bondage, slight S&M, Dom/Sub, rough rutting, mate marking, leash play/ownership, slight degradation, praise kink, body worship, ass worship, cock worship, she/her pronouns, vaginal sex, creampie, facial

Other Tags: Fluff, Angst

Note: Reader will receive aftercare

Hello there all you wayward sinners! This is your host Alastor tuning in! And welcoming you to Part 2 of this scandalous fic! Enjoy my darlings~❤️

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

Charlie’s tour was very detailed and informative. She is really proud of her work she has done here and it shows in her presentations. She would show me every nook and cranny in this hotel; explaining everything that went into making it become a reality. She especially was excited about the rooms and how every single room was designed for extreme comfort. She wanted every guest here to feel like they’re in heaven while on the path to heaven. Her enthusiasm was definitely contagious as I couldn’t help but feel excited about staying here. She finally stopped in front of a door almost near the end of the corridor. She takes out a key and unlocks the door; opening it to show what’s inside. “This is now your new room (Y/N)! I really hope it’s to your liking.” She does tiny hops in place; excited about your opinion on how the room looked. It was very spacious with a huge luxurious bed; draped in shear black curtains that are attached to the roof being held by the bed posts. The wooden frame was a burgundy brown; details resembling as of something that came out of royal Victorian era. The bedspread’s design was simple black silk sheets paired with black silk pillowcases to match. A Victorian like dresser placed against the wall near the door, and on the other side of the room was a pretty big Victorian like wardrobe as well. Adjacent to the wardrobe was another door that lead to the bathroom. The bathroom itself had a more modern look to it compared to the bedroom. Marble topped sink with the cabinet underneath was black along with the faucet and handles. A big mirror right above the sink showing the reflection of the black towel rack attached to the wall. A small black medicine cabinet was just right above the toilet. Then the shower itself is a walk-in with grey tiles and jet black, square like shower set. There was even a little bench built into the wall.

“Alrighty! That’s the end of the tour! I really hope you enjoy your stay here. And…sorry about earlier? I honestly have no idea why Alastor was messing with you specifically. He’s literally unpredictable. So if you feel like you’re in any danger…just let me know ok?” Charlie then gives me a reassuring pat on the back; giving a smile that in hopes will give some clarity. “Of course. I will let you know right away if I do feel uncomfortable in anyway.” She smiles wide; feeling relief that didn’t drive me off out of the hotel. “Well I’ll let you get settled in. Do let me or Vaggie know if you need anything else ok?” I give a thumbs up and a simple got it as she took her leave; closing the door behind her. I sigh heavily; finally I can relax after that experience today. Especially with Alastor. I don’t know what he meant by the things he said, but it definitely had predatory intent behind it. I need to stay away from him as much as possible; just in case he decides to make me his next meal. But there’s this little voice in the back of my head telling me to figure out why. Why would I risk getting eaten just to find out why he acted in a manner?! I really must have a death wish!! For now I need some sleep. I’ll be able to think more clearly about what I want to do after a good nights rest. But I gotta shower first before anything else. I proceed to the bathroom once again; sliding the glass door open and turning on the water; feeling the temp making sure it’s the perfect before stepping in. Happy with the heat of the water, I start to strip starting with my top; raising it over my head and onto the floor. Then I start to unbutton my jean shorts eventually sliding them down to the floor as well. As I was about to unclasp my bra, I felt this sudden chill up my spine. It almost felt like something was watching me, which made me unconsciously cross my arms over my chest; feeling rather exposed. I turn around to look into the bedroom, but there was no one there. Maybe I’m still paranoid about what happened today. Alastor maybe be unpredictable, but he’s still a gentleman. I shut the door to the bathroom hoping that was the reason of the paranoia. I’ve gotten completely nude as I walk in to the shower; sighing as the warm water hits my skin. I definitely needed this.

I finish with my shower, stepping back into the room with a towel on my head and around my body. I proceeded to the dresser and open it to find that Charlie did indeed cater to every detail. The dresser is packed full of clothes to wear, and they all look to be my size too. I pull out a white crop top and black sleep shorts along with a pair of black panties. I finish drying and proceed getting dressed for sleep. As I get under the covers, placing my head on the pillows, I couldn’t help how fast sleep took me.

The next morning I sat up in bed; yawning and stretching my back out hearing it crack a couple of times. I slept pretty peacefully last night; I must of been tired. I slowly get out of bed and walk towards the dresser again. I go through everything pulling out a black spaghetti strap tank top and a black cropped hoodie. I pair them with some black distressed jean shorts; looking at myself in the mirror. Cute! Heading out the room, closing the door behind me, I walk down the corridor yawning again as I make my way all the way to the dinning room where everyone was eating breakfast. I look around there was no sign of Alastor anywhere; which is good cause I don’t to stress out first thing in the morning. As I walk towards the table sitting down, Charlie perks up at me “Good morning (Y/N)! Did you sleep well? Sorry we missed you at dinner last night, but I’d figured you need some rest.” I smile as I put together my plate of what’s on the table such as eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns, and a couple of biscuits. I was starving since not having dinner yesterday. “Thank you! I really need that sleep. I was completely drained after yesterday.” Angel snickers at my comment, then leaning his cheek against his hand while his arm is propped on the table. “Oh I bet you were~” Vaggie then punches him in the shoulder causing him to hold and rub the spot she hit with an ouch. “Angel! Not ok!” she says as crossing her arms. “Whaaat?~ I’m just kidding around jeez!” Angel then goes back to his breakfast with Vaggie apologizing for his behavior. “It’s ok Vaggie! It was funny.” I reassured her as Angel gave me a smirk “I think we gonna get along just fine~” he gives me a playful wink as I giggle. Angel was really funny, and just honestly good company to be around as well.

After breakfast everyone went their separate ways again cause the group activities won’t start until tonight before dinner like yesterday. But this time Angel and Cherri pulled me to the side “Heya toots! Since group won’t start until tonight how’s about a day out with us? Cherri and me are planning to go shopping and hit up a few clubs if ya interested~” I was actually excited that they would invite me out. This wasn’t so bad of a decision after all if I get to hang with these two. “Sure! I love to!” Angel and Cherri then wrap them arms around my shoulders; leading me out the door “That’s awesome! We’re gonna get fucked up tonight!” Angels adds as Cherri pumps her fist in the air “Let’s go fuckheads!! Tonight is gonna be wild!!”

(Alastor’s P.O.V)

Sitting on the balcony, quietly sipping my morning coffee; I overhear voices down below as I glance down to see what’s going on. To my surprise I see (Y/N) with the two delinquents leading her out of the hotel. Why in hell would she want to be around them? They think fun is to defile yourself in expense cause someone paid them to do it, or indulge in narcotics. I watch as they walk down the path and for a brief moment, (Y/N) looked back and we both locked eyes; knowing we can’t pretend that we didn’t see each other. As we locked eyes, her face turns red again and she quickly turns her head back around; trying to walk away faster. I didn’t even have to say anything this time and she still got flustered. I chuckle softly, thinking that was rather….cute how easily flustered she got. I faceplam myself “What am I thinking?” I really need to stop this. For some god awful reason, this season has gotten out of hand; it’s making me think things that’s not like me. I really need to be careful now. Just even catching a glance at her will set these wretched thoughts running through my mind. Maybe hosting a little podcast will clear my head. Yes that’s what I need! Gotta keep my mind on other topics instead of her should do the trick.

A few hours goes by, as of now it’s 8pm; almost time for group again. Today went pretty smoothly with another great podcast in the books if I do say so myself. As I sit in my tower, sipping on the freshly brewed chamomile tea; I hear voices again outside. It must be them coming back after a day filled with who knows what. I set my cup down; standing up to walks towards the window only to see of course; all three are coming back to the hotel….DRUNK! Obviously Charlie is not gonna be happy about this. But, I need to stay out of this for the sake of my sanity. If I honestly have any left by tonight.

I can hear distant yelling downstairs as I continue to finish my tea, whilst I read my book. I’d figured things would go south; guessing group is canceled for tonight. Honestly, that is definitely for the best. I really can’t risk anymore thoughts invading my mi-. My thoughts were cut off by a knock on the door. It might be Charlie wanting to inform me of the cancellation of group tonight. Setting my cup down again, I make my way towards the door; opening it expecting Charlie only to end up being (Y/N). Oh no….(Y/N) is at my door! Well isn’t this lovely! I really don’t need this right now! Yet here she is at my door….“Why hello darling! To what do I owe this….pleasant visit from you?” (Y/N) then makes her way into my radio tower “I need to talk to you…sir” she says slurring her words a bit. She’s definitely drunk and now she wants to talk to me? This is very undignified like, having a drunk woman in my presence when I should be pushing back out so she can go to her room. “Whatever is it my dear, can it wait until tomorrow when you’re…fully aware of what you’re doing?” She takes a seat in my chair, crossing her legs doing so “Not really. I won’t remember nor will I have the courage to even talk to you if I did.” Aha! So she wanted to get this way just to talk to me? Ugh! this is off to a great start. Just let her vent whatever she wanted to say and get her out as quickly as possible. “Well as long as you make it quick my dear. I do have some errands to run before calling it a night.” She chuckles while propping her arm on the arm rest and resting her cheek in her palm. “I think your “errands” can wait…..Mr. Radio Demon.” Oh~ this almost sounded like a threat. Does she dare to challenge me? No has ever challenged me and got out of it alive. She must have some sort of goal to reach; better not make it so easy for her to obtain of course. “Oh can they my dear?….you know for your second day here you’re….not really leaning towards the path of redemption.” She lets out a hardy laugh “And by the way you greeted me yesterday, you didn’t sound like you were on the path to redemption either.” I in turn give a hardy laugh back.

“That’s because I’m not here for redemption. I’m only here to be the hotel’s manager as I watch the scum of hell try to climb up to the hill of betterment; only to watch them fail spectacularly.” (Y/N) then gets up from the chair and slowly sashays towards me. “So you must be getting a kick out of what I did tonight then?” She stops just mere inches from me. She gives me this sinister smirk “What is she planning?” I thought to myself as I prepare my next words “Honestly, yes I am. I had a feeling you were gonna be entertaining. Turns out I was right as always~” She pokes at my chest “You know you think you’re hot shit Alastor, but I can see right through your bullshit.” I chuckle darkly; she really does have a death wish. I remove her finger from my chest softly tossing it aside “If you value your soul darling….then you won’t touch me like that…Ever…Again.” She ha’s as if to mock me further “I knew it! You do want to eat me! I had a feeling you were a cannibal!”

What?! Is that what she thought? Oh how…..interesting~ I can run with this. She’s not wrong though, I do have cannibalistic tendencies. Unfortunately I haven’t really done that in a while now, but I’ll let her think that I do. “Eat you, you say? Well I must admit that you do look rather…..” I lean down to her ear to whisper as I run my hand from her shoulder down her arm “Delectable~” she shuddered under my touch as I hear her gulp when I started inhaling her scent. Fuck!!! Bad idea!!!Why did I intake her scent?!?! This damn season is getting worse and worse the more I stay around her!!! I need to stop this now!!!! I back away from her; folding my hand behind my back “But I will never do such a thing! So don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” She looks at me wide eyed as if she’s still in awe of what just happened. Her face had a deep shade of red as her breaths were still a little shaky. My my~ I could get used to seeing this side of her~ That’s it!!!! I need to kick her out NOW!!!! I use my cane to usher her out of my radio tower and finally out the door “I did appreciate you stopping by my dear! But unfortunately I do have to bid you good night.” She turns around to face me “Ah yes….I think I do need to lie down now….sorry for disturbing you, have a good night Alastor.” She then turns back and makes her way down the corridor to her room, which is not far from mine “And to you as well my dear!” I quickly the my studio door again and lean back against it; sliding down to the floor as I run my fingers through my hair almost gripping my scalp.

SERIOUSLY?!?!?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #alastor #hazbin smut #self insert #18+ post #18+ account #18+ content #18+ blog #18+ only

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: 8:45 PM 🔞

Tags/Warnings: Adult, smut-heavy, making out, Idol!Jungkook, Fluff, Established Relationship, implied foreigner!Reader, not home AU though, Jungkook struggling hard, misunderstanding, angst with happy end, emotional smut, oral (fem. Receiving), protected sex bc this is me writing this and I teach you kids the true life lessons

Lenght: long.

AU-Masterlist

Languages are marked as English / Korean.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He still can't believe your first time got interrupted by something as ridiculous as his manager calling him.

It's like a reminder that his career will always somehow wiggle itself between him and whatever happiness he tries to find outside of it- nothing ever truly personal for him, everything always meant to be well thought through so it fits into his public persona.

But he refuses to give you up, even knowing all of that.

Apologizing for it just feels.. odd now, like bringing up something awkward you did ten years ago that everyone forgot about anyway before you decided to rekindle the memory in their heads. But the problem here, right now, with you, is that he knows he should bring it up. Somehow. Because he's struggling hard to keep himself in check, even having had to embarrassingly rub one out in the shower this morning after you'd made yourself tea in his kitchen wearing nothing but a shirt and panties.

It's a problem.

He's hesitating to initiate anything now mainly because what if it happens again? He can't just put his phone on silent and ignore what could potentially always be very important calls from people who only want what's best for him in the long run- real life doesn't work like those movies where the protagonist throws it all away for his girl. He wants to, he truly does- but at the end of the day, he's also scared, because if he falls, he'll potentially take you down with him, and God knows how deep he'll fall with where he stands right now.

A drop from a height this high would shatter you inevitably, and he's sure he'd crack like delicate porcelain just as much by having to watch you suffer the consequences of his actions. You don't deserve that.

"..-ungkookie?" You try again, and he snaps out of his thought, looking at you.

"Hm?" He responds, looking at you next to him.

"I asked if you want me to cook for us tonight. Is that alright?" You wonder, and he nods, eagerly so, because of course he'd love to have you do something so domestic with him. He's always dreamed of being able to experience these things after all, despite his curse of being a public figure who's not supposed to appear unavailable. "Alright-!" You hum. "Gonna have to put pants on now though, gotta go get some groceries.." you whine under your breath as you stretch on the couch naked feet pushing against his thighs and oh, how your back arches-

No, bad brain. Not right now.

"I'll give you my card, hold on." He tries to save himself, getting up to fetch his wallet as you begin to laugh.

"Jungkook baby, I can cover some groceries, don't bother!" You argue softly, getting up as well before walking over to him. "You'll just have to survive some minutes without me, that's all." You tell him, hugging his middle as you put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "Also, people would think I'm a gold digger for using a black card looking like.. well, me." You joke, as he can't help but reach out to affectionately brush some hair out your face, hands holding your cheeks.

"M'sorry." He mumbles, and you part a bit from him, serious at his tone of voice used.

"Hm? For what?" You wonder, and he sighs. Why did he bring it up now? This is going to be so awkward, he already dreads it. But now that he's put the noose around his neck, he might as well stand on the chair too.

"Yesterday. Or.. day before? Technically it was, wasn't it.." he rants, before sighing. "I hate that we.. had moment, you know, and then.. nothing. Ruined." He complains softly, and you can't help but look at him affectionately. He's such a soft soul sometimes, worries about so much that doesn't even need to be worried about.

"Jungkook, it's fine." You answer.

"Not fine-" he shakes his head. "Not fine, I- ugh, I want you, you know? Want to, but now, it's awkward and I don't know how to initiate it because every time I plan to I keep thinking of that moment he called and-" he groans in frustration, head thrown back before he looks down at you. "I'm sorry." He apologizes yet again, and you laugh.

"I forgot to pack socks for this trip, that's why I'm always barefoot in your apartment here." You say, and he blinks once, twice, before he looks at you, confused but amused the same.

"What?" He questions, tilting his head for a split second and you shrug.

"Now I've made an awkward moment for myself too. We're even." You explain, and he laughs.

"Thats not how that works-" he wants to argue but he inevitably leans down to kiss you- a peck quickly deepened by you, because God knows you want him just as much. But the struggle of initiating isn't solely his alone, because you don't know how to either. All is still new with your relationship, you don't even live together at this point in time, only a week more and you'll be back home trying to figure out how to move most of your stuff to his country so you can be closer. This was all a test, after all- to see if it's worth it. If you'll be okay.

And you know now, you'll be just fine with him at your side.

"Hm I need to get going now though-" you say, trying to escape him now- but he won't let you, hands firm on the small of your back as he keeps you against him, lips chasing yours making you giggle as you lean back as far as you can. "Jungkook!" You laugh, but he just playfully bites at your neck.

"No, I'm hungry." He mumbles against your skin, and you look at him, pushing against his chest.

"Yeah that's why I have to go? Get everything to cook?" You remind him, but he shakes his head, gaze making it clear that he doesn't care for that.

"Not.. that." He tells you. "Hungry for you." He says, raising his brows and you laugh at how ridiculous he's being. How can he be both so cute but also attractive at the same time? It's truly unfair.

"You're so cute." You tease, catching him off guard to escape his grasp and run into the bedroom to get some proper pants at least. But he's faster, palm slapping flat against the wood of his door before the momentum of his move slams it into the wall with a loud noise, making both of you jump for a second before he stalks towards you.

And once the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed, you know you lost.

It's like his patience had finally snapped, his hands eagerly helping you out of his shirt, happily running his palms over your skin, warm and soft as you move around a bit to get comfortable. He sighs when his phone vibrates somewhere close- probably having fallen out of his pocket on the couch earlier, and you laugh, visibly uncaring of his misery. "Go get it." You tell him when it sounds again, and he groans out loudly as if he's in pain, angrily stomping back into the living room, where you can hear him answer the call with an annoyed tone to his voice. It surprises you when he walks back into the bedroom however, pointing to the shirt you're attempting to put back on, before he motions for you to put it back on the floor where he'd thrown it down earlier.

Just what is he thinking right now?

"Yeah, that's fine." He talks into the phone, his free hand untying the strings of your sweatpants, before he pulls on the hem, tapping your hips as if to silently ask you to lift them so he can get you out of those pants. "Not right now, but tomorrow is fine." He continues to talk to whomever is speaking to him over the phone, while simultaneously running his hand from the side of your knee, up to the hem of your underwear, the last item of clothing covering you at the moment. It's oddly exciting to see him so serious, yet clearly more focused on you than anything else.

You've never felt so adored before.

His fingers slip underneath the side of your panties, teasing you, so close yet way too far from where you'd like his hands to be most right now. And he's clearly aware of it too; if the hooded eyes and the small smirk on his lips was anything to go by. "No, right now.. I'm pretty busy. Sorry." He speaks again into the phone, thumb running over the dip between your inner thigh and your by now more than aching heat. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip for a second, before the whole thing visibly seems to edge him just as much- then tent in his pants evident.

"Alright, yeah, just- text the schedule to me and I'll talk to you tomorrow about it, okay?" He offers into the phone, moving to stand up and search for something in the drawer of his bedside table- colorful foil package pretty obviously hinting at what he means when he's said he's currently busy. "Alright, hmhm, yup- bye." He rushes out, ending the call before he throws his phone somewhere onto the shirt you'd been wearing, his eyes rolling in an annoyed manner before he takes off his own shirt, joining you on the bed.

"Did you really hang up on him like that?" You wonder, giggling when he has to sit back to slip out of his loose grey sweats as well, jumping on one foot for a bit as his other gets stuck in the fabric for a second.

"I'm not sorry." He shakes his head, crawling closer to you on the mattress to get a hold of both sides of your panties. "I've got my hot girlfriend all pretty and ready, no one can ever blame me for being needy." He shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face before he tries to pull your underwear off. "Hey come on now!" He whines almost, a stark contrast to the tattooed, muscled appearance of him currently already flushed and fully erect, straining against the cotton of his own underwear.

"Needy." You tease, and suddenly, as if you'd pushed a button, as he suddenly pulls on the fabric with more determination, successfully getting rid of the item of clothing with a gaze that screams fake innocence. Jungkook isn't new to sex, and neither are you- but it's the first time doing it with each other, which naturally places a bit of pressure onto you.

Or maybe it usually should be like that- because somehow, it all comes naturally.

When his hand finds your heat, you're already melting underneath his gaze, no words spoken as he leans further over you, catching your lips again. Only that this time, he truly seems hungry; no longer offering you fleeting pecks but desperate kisses that try and convey just how much he wants you right now. He knows that he could never truly make it clear to you though- because he himself doesn't even know if that's possible.

He's never wanted anyone so bad.

And while usually not too fond of it, his need to prove himself as the perfect lover- emotionally and physically- makes him detach himself from you for a second, before he adjusts his position, leaning down to have you lay your legs over his shoulders, hands holding your thighs apart as he lays his mouth onto your heat.

It's an entirely new experience for you, and he knows.

But luckily, if your Impatient whining was anything to go by, you're definitely enjoying yourself as he flattens his tongue over your sensitive nerves, eyes focused on you while he has to use a little strength to keep your legs apart, especially when you grow close to your first orgasm. He's eager to see it, moving away to gain a better view before one of his hands finishes the job, gaze on you as you arch your back and come undone from his actions.

And its now that he really can't take it any longer.

"Fuck I need you." He curses under his breath, finally getting rid of the last item of clothing he still had on until now, no need to give his length any form of help to get ready for you. He can't help but groan a little under his breath at how sensitive he feels, rushing the act of wrapping the condom over as to not rile himself up too much.

After all, he wants to be inside you for his own orgasm, no matter what.

"Hm I'll go slow, ok?" He asks, and you nod, hands reaching out for him, making him chuckle. "You're cute." He comments, earning a roll of your eyes in return. He lets it go for now- giving you a pass this time, but only because be truly feels needy now.

He'd love to tease you a little, make you all whiny and desperate for him, but right now, he just wants you as close as he physically can get.

Though in his haste to get onto his own road towards pleasure, he never forgets you- pride swelling as he watches you hold onto him, wanting him just as much as he wants you. He's a little sweaty already, and the sheetsbare tangled badly at this point from all your squirming, arousal already staining some parts of them but right now he really can't bring himself to care.

He uses one of his hands to aid him in finding your entrance, positioning himself to carefully push himself inside, and at this point, he just feels as if he truly became one with you. It's the last key experience in a way he's had to have with you, and now that he's in exactly that moment, things start to feel real.

"I love you." He almost whispers into your neck while he starts to move. "I'm.. so grateful you're here." He tells you, hips moving at a steady pace. "I want you to.. stay forever." He almost asks, in a way, and while you can't give him an answer to that right now, you probably will later.

After you're back with the normal thinking human beings, because right now, with his pace and strength gaining as he chases his high, your head is definitely unable to form thoughts.

In a way, he loves the sight of you like this. It's awfully sinful, a sight only he wants to ever be able to see, no one else.

He can't control his own noises at this point, uncaring of his groans of pleasure as he chases after his peak, noticing you growing antsy as well, visibly eager to cum as well. And he will make sure you'll get your attention as well- he'd never let you down, ever.

And with his hand reaching in between you both to find where he needs to be, you're gone and out; head thrown back into the pillows while he pushes himself in deep, condom filling with his seed while he slows down into almost no movement at all.

Catching his breath, he leans down to you to kiss you once more, ticking of his clock on the bedside table coming back into the background noise, as well as the cars outside from the opened window, and your breathing underneath him. His senses return one by one as he pulls himself out, moving to get rid of the condom and start the shower.

"Come on." He asks, tapping your thigh, but you just whine all grumpy at him. "Noo get up, get up- the bed's all messy and we're too.!" He laughs, all energized from his own afterglow, while you seem to be the exact opposite, having to be physically pulled into a sitting position by your wrists. Jungkook himself can't help but simply laugh, before he takes matters into his own hands, lifting you up over his shoulder-

And of course, landing a loud smack onto your butt for good measure.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader

[fairlyang]

Fun I 🕷️

in which ghostface!miguel wants you all to himself, no matter the cost

w/c: 1.4K

pairing: ghostface!miguel x nerdyfem!reader

tags: murder, a lil dark, mans is crazy, but head over heels for you tho, seducing, kinda exhibitionism, fingering

part two

Miguel wanted you all to himself, desperately. He was willing to do just about anything. He knew he couldn't get close to you while your friends were still in the picture.

He thought they were terrible people and so far up their own asses so in his mind he was gonna do you a favor. Plus why would you want any other friends or lovers when you'd have him?

So he decided to strike at the Halloween party at some fraternity. You only went to the party because your friends begged all day, but you went on the condition that they'd still let you finished your book. So you went into the backyard and just read while occasionally listening to one of your friends flirt with some guy.

But any time your group separated he made sure to get into a secluded area with each of your friends.

First up was your best friend who went to the bathroom. He stood outside the door in his ghostface mask and a black robe and as soon as she opened the door he pushed her back in. He pushed her again the wall and made it as quick as possible.

He left her body in the bathtub and closed the curtain before cleaning his knife then walking out going out looking for the next.

Which luckily for him another friend bumped into him and swore him out. He groaned and quickly dragged her back into the bathroom, closing the door then sticking his knife into her stomach.

He looked at her through his mask as she tried to choke out words but he just grabbed her, opening the curtain and pushed her on top of her friend in the bathtub.

Once again wiping his knife clean on the sink before looking at the bathtub one more time before closing the curtains and walking out, closing the door behind him.

He made his way through the crowded people and went outside. He expected to still find some people out there and not just you but he was happy to have you alone.

And didn't even have to kill your last friend to get you alone.

He takes off his mask and walks over to you, you look up at the sound of footsteps and put your book down, "oh hey Miguel." You say and give him a sweet smile.

He felt his heart skip a beat as he returned the smile and walked past you to sit on the chair right next to you. "hi pretty girl, what are you doing out here by yourself huh?" He says and leans in closer to you.

You shrug and hold up your book which just makes him chuckle, "how'd they convince ya to come this time?"

"said they'd let me be as long as I came." You say and grin.

He laughs and shakes his head, you were just so sweet.

"I've got an idea..." he says and brings a hand down to your thigh.

You gasp and widen your eyes, "w-what are you doing?"

"Just wanna have some fun with you princess." He whispers and grazes your skin gently.

He knew he'd never ever have it in him to hurt you, let alone make you do something you didn't want to do. And he knew you have a lot of curiosity, he knew you were just a horny little virgin that's just been dreaming of being touched.

And how could he not offer to help you out?

"I- uh-" you stammer and look down at his hand, it gently squeezed your thigh making you bite your lip.

You never thought you'd have a chance with a guy like Miguel. According to your friends he was picky when it came to girls and you never thought he'd go for someone like you.

Unbeknownst to you, you were exactly what he's been looking for. And exactly who he wants.

"So what do you say pretty girl?" He whispers in your ear sending a shiver all throughout your body.

"We can have a little bit of fun..." he coos and leaves a soft kiss along your neck making you shake.

"Or you can just give me the word and I'll stop." He says pulling away making you immediately shake your head.

"Gotta tell me what you want sweetheart." He whispers as he brings his hand closer and closer to where you have so desperately been needing to touched.

"D-don't stop... please." You whimper out and he smiles.

"Whatever you say princess." He whispers and scoots his chair as close to you as possible.

He then spreads your legs and lifts your skirt up to reveal a pair of baby pink panties. "So pretty angel." He coos in your ear making you hide your face in your hands.

He tuts in disapproval and slides his left hand into your panties. You gasp then bite your lip realizing you're outdoors and that anyone could come outside. He then dips two fingers into your already soaked cunt and just relishes in the fact that he's finally doing this.

He's wanted you for so long but with your friends in the way and blabbering nonsense in your ear he knew you wouldn't wanna hear him out. But considering how he didn't even have to convince you maybe you wanted this too?

He slips one finger inside slowly but you still let out needy little moans for him that only drove him more insane. He then pulls it out only to push it back in again, your walls clenching beautifully against his finger.

And those sounds. Not just your pretty, desperate moans but the sounds of your wetness as he fucked you, faster now.

You were practically swallowing his finger whole, but it just felt so good. You've only ever taken your fingers and could barely take two. With just one of his it felt like you were getting fucked with two of yours.

But it was so good, even better than you'd imagine fingering would feel like.

Suddenly he slips in a second finger and you cried out, feeling way too full but he just sweetly kissed your cheek and told you how good you were taking it. "Such a good girl for me." He murmured in your ear as he slowly pumped his fingers deeper and deeper.

You nodded and moaned as he gradually went faster, your cries were like music to his ears. He could set them up as his ringtone or alarm for every morning just so he could hear you if he was able to. He was already in love with all the sounds you were making, it was even better than anything he's ever dreamed of.

"F-fuck- Miguel-" you moan out and it made his cock twitch under his pants.

"Like that sweet girl?" He coos and you whimper aimlessly nodding again.

He groans and goes faster, already feeling your juices drip out and down to your pretty ass. Oh badly he wanted to make you cum. Those damn wet dreams always kept him up, he'd picture your pretty eyes looking at him as you cried that you wanted to be his good girl.

He wasn't strong enough to stop them and let them continue as he'd stroke his cock imagining all the sounds you'd make but now he didn't have to imagine.

He leaned against your head, kissing your cheek again as you melted into his touch and felt your legs start to shake. He started going deeper and curling his fingers up making sure to hit that sweet spot that'll make you cum in no time.

"Fuck! O-oh god- Miguel-" you moaned out and bucked your hips up as you felt that funny feeling in your tummy.

"I-I- mmm- I think I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me pretty girl. Be a good girl for me sweetheart." He coos and you whimpered as your legs began to shake and your orgasm hits you like never before.

You cried out for him as he slowed down letting you ride out your high as he left gentle kisses on your face. You closed your eyes and tried to catch your breath but your body was still slightly shaking.

He slips his fingers out of you and then brought them up to his mouth where he licked them clean as you watched in awe and shock.

Suddenly you hear the door open and you quickly scrambled to fix your panties and put your skirt down. Miguel lets his fingers out with a pop as your last remaining friend came over and gave him a look.

"Hey girl, still hanging out here?" She asks and you nod, feeling your face heat up.

"We were just having some fun, weren't we angel?" He says at first looking at her then at you which you nodded and smiled at her.

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara x reader #miguel smut #miguel o hara #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o #hara smut #miguel ohara smut #fun