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waywardxwords · 10 hours

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Chapter 8 - Save Me

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Slight language; there's a ton of dialogue in this one but I feel like it's necessary to prep for the chapters ahead

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~3k

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If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how you felt about going to Kansas for the unforeseeable future. While it wasn’t like you went into an office everyday and you could really work from anywhere within the United States, you had still built your life in Virginia. You had friends—especially Jen—and it felt weird leaving her here, unable to defend herself. But Dean had assured you she would be taken care of, and you knew that you were unable to defend yourself against these monsters Dean and Sam knew how to fight.

“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door.

A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought.

“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room.

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze.

“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”

Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.”

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.

“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.

“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”

You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.”

“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”

You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.

“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.

“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”

They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door.

Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion.

“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?”

Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway.

“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester.

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”

You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.”

You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car. As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart.

“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly.

“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car.

Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back.

As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours.

“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear.

“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently.

“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded.

“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly.

“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”

“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”

You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips.

Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag.

He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway.

“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile.

“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport.

“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash.

Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas.

“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes.

“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now.

“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it.

“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped.

“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked.

You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control.

Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”

You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you.

His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”

Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him.

“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully.

“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness.

“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”

There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued.

“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence.

“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”

“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off.

The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften.

“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you.

“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word.

Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”

“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.

“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.

“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.

The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.

“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.

“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid.

He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”

Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road.

Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat.

Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked.

“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.

“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction.

“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.

You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”

“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.

“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.

There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors.

“You just get some rest,” he said gently.

You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!

Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!

Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!

Chapter 9 Preview:

One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean.

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both.

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings.

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.”

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly.

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”

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koiibiito · 3 days

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I’M IN MY PIPE ERA TOO OMG I was thinking about reader staying at his house and Pipe lends her one of his River Plate jerseys with his name on it… and of course ends up fucking her in doggystyle because it turns him on

Btw I love your writingggg 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 keep it up ❤️

THIS ONE GOT ME WILDIN— I HAD SO MANY IDEAS: roommate!Pipe, two people who have to live under the same roof for a period of time, best friends who sleep over all the time? I COULDNT CHOOSE ONE bc he seems to be suitable for ALL tropes. but of course, wearing his jersey is a fucking MUST. i love seeing you in my notifications!! ur reblogs/comments keep me going HAHA

anyways, i really really hope i did this one justice <3

pairing: felipe otaño x f!reader

length: 1.2k

tags: NSFW, mentions of reader’s body being smaller/shorter then Pipe’s, nothing else other than Pipe thirsting for u and absolutely losing it over seeing his River Plate jersey on you.

The first time you wore Pipe’s jersey, you ended up with your cheek pressed against the sheets.

He simply cannot help but find you so attractive—he can’t even remember when and where his crush on you grew, or how he started to fall for you—but one thing is for sure, you take up his entire waking thoughts and more. There's something dug deep into the animalistic side of his brain that's so terribly inclined for your attention, and the minute you're giving it, he's diving all in. Because he's been waiting for it.

With your presence in his apartment, it was so hard for him to take his eyes off of you. He kept himself busy so as to not follow you just about anywhere throughout his own place. He doesn’t make a single peep, but he’s so drawn to you that he manages to unconsciously linger close enough that you can feel his eyes on you.

You grow nervous under his gaze, and you start to over analyze everything you’re doing. Or, is there something on your face?

All of a sudden you stopped paying attention to what you’re doing, the pitcher on your hand idly continuing to pour water out, but your eyes don’t register the fact that your mug is already filled to the brim. Pipe watches in half panic as the water spills all over the table and onto you, effectively turning your red tshirt into a dark maroon at your belated realization.

He helps you clean the mess, all the while trying very hard not to stare at the way your wet t-shirt clings to your body. And when you ask for a spare shirt to change into, he doesn’t hesitate to sprint to the laundry room and haphazardly grab the nearest one out of the clean pile. He knows he’s going to miss seeing the look of that wet tshirt on you, but your needs have to come first.

And when you come out of the bathroom clad in his River Plate jersey, he decides that it’s the best outfit he has seen you in.

The fabric easily engulfs your figure, and it fascinates him how something that fitted him so well, looks so good on you. How is it possible that you make the jersey look even better than it already is? And, you surely look more beautiful than you were in your own clothes, and as much as he hates to admit it, the sight of you in his jersey turns him on.

Hands fidgeting at his sides, his eyes are glued at your figure from across the room. It was an abnormal day, only for the sole fact that you had to stay at his place for a few days due to an urgent problem back in your own place. He has been looking forward to the intimate moments he can have with you, being able to admire your pretty figure in peace.

Except for the fact that that ‘peace’ had been rudely interrupted the minute you put on his jersey. The white and red fabric had slipped down your shoulder more than once, and eventually you gave up trying to fix it. Pipe can feel his breathing hitch when he makes note that you’re not wearing a bra—at all. His eyes move down and the sight of your hard nipples poking through the material confirms what he is afraid of.

His frustration only grows more when he realizes you don’t even know how much the smallest things can drive him crazy. It’s unfair, he thinks, as his eyes scan the bare skin of your legs as you sit on the couch curled up and fully invested in a book.

He wonders if you’re wearing any panties under the jersey, or if he could just reach under and your cunt would be there, waiting for his touch.

When you run a hand across your hair, he furrows his brows slightly as his eyes rake over the way his white and red jersey hikes up ever so slightly, following the curves of your body. He thinks he saw a glimpse of white panties that peeks out from underneath, but he’s not entirely sure, it’s getting harder to think.

All hell breaks loose the minute you stand on the tip of your toes to reach up to the top shelf and grab something (he really couldn’t care less, his eyes are on the way his name is proudly presented on the back of the jersey, on you), and you lower yourself back on both sturdy feet but the fabric is still bunched around your midriff, exposing your entire underwear to him, he's on you.

Crowding you into your space and smearing a messy kiss across the tender skin of your throat, hands big and wide and rough and coming up to cradle you everywhere, in all ways—the back of your head, the curve of your throat, the swell of your breast, the fat at your hips—as if he just has to. he needs to be the one in charge, now that you've granted him the attention he wanted, refusing to let you slip away.

If he's not overtaken by his own lust, Felipe might even let you on your back for a while, panting against your naked skin and leaving tiny bites in his wake. And he'll snap his hips into yours with the kind of control any normal man might have and he'll kiss you until you're both swollen by it, a little messy with it, and he'll repress every shudder that threatens to turn him into something else whenever you gasp out his name.

Just when you think you are at the peak of the pleasure he gives you—Pipe will fuck you from behind.

Flips you over onto your stomach and hike your hips up into the air, spread your legs enough to accommodate him. You don't know if it's true—and later, when he is a little more in his right mind and shy and embarrassed of his little lapse of self-control, he won't explain himself—but it feels like he gets bigger; stretches longer, suddenly heavier as he wraps himself over your back, feels thicker and deeper inside your body than he did before.

He'll plant his hands beside your head, nuzzle into your cheek with a tortured sound from the pit of his chest, and rut into you like a fucking animal. And he doesn't stop when your knees start to shake or your hips threaten to fall flat to the bed; he'll only wrap an arm around your body to keep it close, to keep you from slipping away, and he'll carve himself inside of you until you're boneless and sure to be sore later.

Always.

Later, after he's finally let you take a shower—bathes you in his own body soap—and given you something to wear—his own sweatshirt that just feels softer than anything you’ve ever owned—he'll wrap up with you on the couch and refuse to acknowledge that side of him.

Pipe will shake his head and pointedly not look at you, but his frown will be obvious, where he's pressed it into your hair. "Nah, I’m chill guy."

"I’m serious," you can't help but grin, which only makes him press his mouth—and nose—into you a little harder. "Nothing wrong with it, you just get a little...wild, is all."

#lsdln x reader #lsdln smut #felipe otaño smut #felipe otaño x reader

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problematicfavecompetition · 1 year

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Heads up that in the poor little meow meow bracket, similar to this, vriska won via bot votes and. That may be a risk to keep an eye on since shes in this bracket as well.

Thanks for the heads up! I'll be sure to keep an extra eye on that round to make sure there isn't any bot spamming

#ask #thanks again for giving me a warning!#i had a really hard time fitting her in at all #since i know she's a huge favorite and i was trying to figure out how to make the most fair and even matching #pretty sure i failed at that even after all my dithering but ah well #good to know to keep a close eye on her matches though!

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toytulini · 6 months

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can i access the tunglr on work wifi but not discord. insane

#toy txt post #apologies in advance. nonzero chance this means i liveblog The Horrors. of slogging thru work #and or also liveblog. my own going insane over tryimg to remake character playlists now that the characters have evolved enough #that i look at their og playlists like.......what was i thinking #mostly. mostly Bytte #its just #hard to find things that match Bytte or Headloose or both of them and their. fucked up little dynamic both tonally and lyrically?#like in theory i Want to put Shakiras She Wolf on Bytte's playlist. its so iconic and In Theory. it could match. i could force it #in practice........god i dont even know how to expkain how it does not fit Bytte like....tonally and probably not even lyrically #i love bridge city sinners sound and a lot of their lyrics and would love to put them on both playlists but like lyrically and subject wise #theres just.....not much that fits?#i might be willing to try to explain Why It Doesnt Fit if i had more time ? and wasnt just typing in between printing labels..idk #and defining what doesnt work and why might in turn help me find more stuff that Does #i think i need to listen to a little more uhhhhhh. megan thee stallion? is that how u spell her name? for bytte. unsure. its so tricky #like half the shit on her playlist like only a couple lines in the song Really vibe w me idk #i actually just. remade her playlist completely the other day and im less mad at it now but it still could use a lot of improvement #theres not a good like.....flow between the songs? ig?#need to. figure out headloose now also.i think in fairness when i made Bytte's playlist i still hadnt really developed her as a character #much at all yet? idk #im not As Mad at either of Headloose's playlists theres just a bunch i need to add and reorganize and prolly need to trim? and tbh i prolly #need to just honestly make multiple separate playlists for all of them like i did for Suki....#that will be similar and have plenty of overlap but have different nuances for the different eras of their lives #like. idk maybe Bytte needs to just have a Separate playlist for how her approach to and relationship w her sexuality evolves between #how she is as a human and. warlord. and then ig after she is w headloose which #is after she decides to become a demon but before shes fully transformed cos shes not dead yet so the evolution there is still #more subtle until she turns fully. and headloose gets 1) better at controlling the shapeshifting and healing factors and #2) Headloose getting more fucked up kinks. i guess. or learning more of his own fucked up kinks. or whatever #and the influence that has on her as well AND ALSO her like. lowkey toxicity in any attempts at long term rships #due to being a woman in a weird position in a point in history where we probably didnt have a word for aromanticism #...im out of tags. how does this happen everytime

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chansgender · 1 year

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unlabeled is a valid sexuality guys btw. in case you didn’t know

#like. do you KNOW how hard it is for some people to find a label? broooo #i spent years trying to figure myself out. and i JUST got there. and sometimes i still question it. i do know for a FACT that i am queer #and that’s enough #ive gone thru a lot of labels. eventually i settled on one i liked #but sometimes you just. never find it #there are a lot of labels out there guys. just go with ur gut #sometimes you don’t know your gender or who you like or if you even like people at all. and that’s okay!!#you dont have to KNOW yourself in and out to know that ur queer #like all the discourse makes me so pissedddf #bisexual lesbians? go wild actually. it’s all just words #but hating on people WITHIN the community??? not okay #aro people are queer #ace people are queer #i could talk a lot about queer identity actually.#but the discourse confuses me because why are you hating on another queer person for a label you dont like. we are a COMMUNITY #im having a very hard time putting words together.#its okay to be confused like WOW it’s very hard to know #some people are born knowing and some people will die not knowing. doesnt make you less queer #i didnt realize i was trans until uhhh sixth grade? i mean i knew i never fit in but i never had the words to say it #bro i am RAMBLING. but who cares actually this is MY blog. i post what i want #dont let people discourage you. especially not people who say ‘oh youre just confused’ uhh yeah. 1: im confused why its ur business #and 2: this isnt easy. it is Hard to look inside urself and try to figure it out.#its okay at the end of the day if u dont know who u are. if you feel like you dont fit in? you dont conform to traditional gender roles?#congrats! ur queer!#and i love the word queer. its so all encompassing of everything ive ever felt #i am strange and i am gay and trans and autistic and all of this makes up ME! i am queer and i am queer and i know this about myself #i do not fit into a lot of spaces so i make my own space. and i’ll let people in because i know how hard it is to have nowhere to go!#any kind of queer person is welcome here #i dont care about controversy i dont care if other people dislike the way you label yourself i dont care if you dont know yet

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storybook-souls · 2 years

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have spent all weekend holed up in a cabin working on my novel and while it’s been very creatively fulfilling i’m left feeling very very [emotion] about the whole thing overall

#on the one hand every time i spend time writing it's so validating to get to go. 'oh i DO love this. i really really do.'#'i haven't just tricked myself into thinking i like doing this i really do feel like this is the thing i could do Forever'#but there IS a. 'hey am i actually any GOOD at this????' 'is it supposed to be easier than this? feel less like pulling teeth?'#'should the characters feel more real by now? am i as funny as i think i am? do i have the courage to take the swings i need to?#do i really control the plot as well as i need to? are my ideas really even anything at all?'#and then the third thing is. 'jesus christ it's really hard to write a novel when you have a full time job.'#especially when you're also running 4 dnd games and actually working 45ish hours a week and have to #maintain your own apartment and life and try to have some sliver of a social life and have family obligations #and are trying to get more sleep and have recently gotten back into reading books--#i got a lot done!!!! but not as much as i maybe HOPED to #this draft is like. not quite halfway done and i STILL don't know exactly what i'm doing with some of the #later chapters and while i think this draft is BETTER than draft 1 (obviously) it still like. needs a lot of work #and i'm so Tired....i feel GOOD but i'm so Tired and i have to go back to WORK on tuesday....#i. :( i know these things take time and that's okay i can be okay with it but it's just. really daunting to look down that road #and to know that i could only get as far as i did bc i set aside two whole days for it and WHEN am i gonna get that again #instead i'm just gonna have to go back to fitting it in around all the everything else which is. sigh #but i can do it! i literally can and i'm going to.#and i'm very glad i had this weekend it DID do the main thing i needed it to which is that it made me figure out #HOW to do a proper second draft. so now i can keep going #fcm #my writing

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anirudhpisharody · 7 months

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we love spending the entire day trying to prepare for something just for everything in the day to go wrong that you end up not doing the one thing you spent all your energy on today preparing for

#i woke up early and did my hair i bought clothes beforehand bc i didn't have any professional ones i ironed my fucking clothes #i printed resumes i came up with this whole stupid plan to fit all of my stuff into this tiny bag so i could go to class and then change in #the bathroom into the professional clothes later it took me like half an hour just the figure out how to pack the bag so everything fit #i spent half of my first class researching companies and writing scripts so what to say so i could try to make a good impression #i feel like i bent myself fucking backwards to try to make this work and in the end #i burned my leg by hot soup i cried for an hour i forgot to actually eat lunch i went to buy some because i didn't have energy to make any #the fucking train got in my way on the way to pick up my food and i got every traffic light possible so i didn't make it home until 5:30 #and at that point i had come up with a new plan to get to the stupid fucking career fair but by the time i got home i realized.#it ends at 6. they start packing up about a half hour before. everyone i saw outside was leaving not going there. i was too fucking late #so now i'm sitting in bed not having accomplished anything eating my shitty lunch/dinner hoping this will all be worth it in the end #like i swear to god if i end up graduating college unemployed i might actually kill myself. i've worked too fucking hard to be a failure #shut up hanna

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risestarkiss · 4 months

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✨The Fashionista✨

Rise Ramblings #234

While watching “The Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle,” I noticed something.

I found it interesting that Raph, Mikey, and Leo were content with Raph’s outfit choice until Donnie stated that he wasn’t “in love with it, ya’ know.”

Suddenly, Raph declares “I’m a disaster!” Albeit ridiculously endearing, it was a little strange to see his sudden shift from moderately content to absolute dissatisfaction. Huh…

Then, the disaster twins decide to help him out.

Take a note of their outfit choices.

Raph tries on all of these fits and more.

Donnie’s first choice is a mild “no.” Leo’s choice is a hard “NO.” (Not surprising, lol.) But then, the overwhelming consensus lands on Raph’s fourth outfit, which ended up being Donatello’s other pick for his brother.

So, in summary, Raph tried on his personal choice for an outfit, of which they rejected. Then, ultimately, Donatello picked out an outfit for his brother, and that pick ended up being perfect. Hmm…

Then I noticed something else. In this episode, we never get a Donnie “curtain reveal” moment, to our disdain. I mean, Raph, Leo, and Mikey got to try on several different outfits in order to get their brothers' opinions before landing on that “perfect outfit, you know the one.” All of his brothers got to shine. Why not DonTron?

Then it hit me.

The try-ons were to get their brothers' opinions and approval. And, for his brothers' choices, he was a major contributor in assisting them in pulling their looks together.

What if, bear with me, Donnie didn’t need the "curtain scene" because he was so confident in his fashion sense that he didn’t need to ask his brothers for help to pick out a great look.

…or they figured out how to break Hypno’s spell before he could get a “curtain reveal.” BUT STILL-

Look at his outfit choices in this episode. Some of his wardrobe changes were off-screen, but all of them were fire.

(I added the baseball cap pic because it makes me happy. I wish we'd seen more of that fit.)

To me, he makes some really smart choices for himself, pushing the envelope of what is expected and taking chances: an open collar with no tie for a “black tie” event, a beanie and spiked wristbands for their “gansta look,” no socks with loafers (a viral fashion trend that actually began in Africa) with old man slacks in his reclined pose. *muah* Chef’s kiss!

But Don’s fashion sense doesn’t just shine in this episode.

In “Reparin’ the Baron” the boys go to Draxum’s apartment. Leo and Donnie show up in some extra nice “Sunday Dinner” twin drip.

The gold is in the details. Everything Leo is wearing, Donnie rocks its compliment: for Leo’s round collar, Donnie’s is angled, for Leo’s blue shirt, Donnie’s is white, For Leo’s light slacks, Donnie’s are dark. Blah blah blah. It’s so good!

Look at the winter fit in Snow Day.

Again, Donnie is Leo’s perfect compliment. As a pair? Fire.

Donnie has “the eye.” I can go on and on with examples, but I’ve said all of that to say this…

In the future, we see that Donatello’s technology had major pull in the resistance. He had drone ships patrolling the skies. He built and designed Leo’s arm, Casey’s chainsaw-hockey stick, and Casey's mask. The list goes on…

But, when Donatello from the past see’s Casey’s clothing from the future, he says this:

We know about the “Genius Built” brand. We’ve seen that logo on all of his tech up to this point. But, here he didn’t just say “Genius Built.” He said, “Genius Built Apparel.”

“Apparel” is not a tech brand. “Apparel” is a fashion brand. Of course, tech is incorporated into the clothing, but still.

This means that past Donatello secured this trademark with plans of creating a fashion brand, comparable to the likes of Gucci, Ralph Lauren, or any other modern clothing brand, as a subsidiary of “Genius Built,” the tech company.

And why not? The evidence has been in front of us this entire time. He has a sharp eye for style, fashion, and trends. It is easily canon that he can sew. Splinter sewed their ninja garbs in “Insane in the Mama Train,” and there is a sewing machine in the house.

They already learned Ninjutsu through basically osmosis, so learning to sew is not too far-fetched.

And here it is, right in front of us, Casey’s entire ensemble, from mask, to weapons, to clothing, was made by Donatello in the middle of the apocalypse under the brand name “Genius Built Apparel.”

And that was just in the bad future. Resources were limited, they didn’t have access to much of anything in that broken world as they were survivors of a devastating Krang invasion. Yet, he created all of this.

However, now that they’ve changed the future, his future as a fashion designer is limitless. Think of what Donatello could produce with unlimited resources, unlimited technology, and unlimited creative freedom.

Tech genius. Clothing designer. Fashionista. Future Genius Built Apparel Owner and CEO. I’m sorry, but I have to call it...

Donatello Hamato of the present, of the bad future, and of the good future is a fashion icon, the likes of which the world has never seen. ○○○○

Update: I've decided to make this concept into a mini-comic series!

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rowarn · 3 months

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first i would like to formally apologize.......also first time trying hybrid au so i humbly apologize if it's not as good as other people's!!! first time for everything and all that!!!

hybrid!au, angst, hurt/comfort but also hurt/no comfort, VERY mean!simon, cat hybrid!reader, dog hybrid!soap, owner!simon

part 2 !!

Simon who has retired from the military and decides to get himself a hybrid companion. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it – he’s grown lonely. He doesn’t have any family and all the socializing he did was in the military and he doesn’t have that anymore. So he decides to look into finding something to fill that gap in his life.

Enters Soap – a young hybrid who once upon a time worked for the military just like Simon. The pup got injured in action and was forced to retire.

Simon figures the two of them will fit together quite well.

And he’s right! The two of them get along swimmingly. And it turns out Soap is very good for Simon. The endless energy the hybrid had (despite his injury) forces Simon to actually leave the house multiple times a day instead of hiding inside until he drives himself stir crazy.

Now, he has to take Soap out for walks, runs, and even takes the hybrid to the park so he can run around with other hybrids and play catch with Simon. Soap LOVES it when Simon throws the ball as far and fast as he can so Soap has to spend several minutes hunting the little thing down.

Simon actually finds himself feeling…happy. For the first time in a long time.

Soap carves out a space in Simon’s life and the Brit is more than happy to let him take up as much space as he needs. He adores Soap. He knows the two of them are going to be companions for a long, long time.

But then on a routine nightly walk, Soap freezes at the entrance to an alleyway, ears perked and alert as he hears something Simon can’t. His tail stops wagging and his blue eyes work to pierce unblinkingly into the inky depths of the alley.

And that’s how they come across you; a skittish cat hybrid with no home to call your own.

Soap is ecstatic. His tail starts wagging so hard that it actually hurts when it hits Simon in the leg.

The pup begs Simon to bring you home. He wants a hybrid friend of his own! Something ugly and dark works it’s way into his chest when he hears that – was he not enough for Soap like Soap was for him?

He tries to tug Soap away by hooking his fingers into the leather collar around his neck but the hybrid doesn’t move, simply staring with a grin at where you sit on the ground in the alley.

Simon doesn’t like cats. He doesn’t want a cat. And just seeing you makes him frown.

When he finds that he can’t get Soap to move, he starts bargaining. He swears that they’ll look into finding a nice dog hybrid for Soap!! Stll, it doesn’t work. The dog hybrid has got his heart set on you for some reason.

And that’s how you find yourself living in his home. And he’s not happy about it.

You glare at him any time he has the audacity to walk into any room you happen to be in in his OWN damn house. It pisses him off.

He doesn’t like you. And he makes it abundantly clear any time he sees you with the way his lips curl up in disgust. He shoos you away like you’re a nuisance even when you’re just lounging in the warmth of a sunbeam through the window.

Where Soap eats borderline gourmet, he usually just slops some random low-quality hybrid food down for you. Sometimes, if he’s feeling particularly resentful, he doesn’t even let you eat at the table with him and Soap.

But Soap adores you. The pup gets so excited to see you whenever he gets home from a walk or a day at the park. He hunts you down immediately wherever you may be just so he can excitedly tell you all about what happened outside – the birds he saw, the hybrids he played with, what he ate.

And you listen intently. You’re not one for many words, Simon notes, but he often finds you muttering barely audible things to the other hybrids. You’ve never spoken a word to the human.

Simon doesn’t know why that upsets him too – it’s not like he wants you to talk to him. He just thinks it’s disrespectful of you to ignore the man giving you food and a roof over your head. He also thinks it’s fucking disrespectful of you to steal his hybrids heart the way you have.

The longer you’re there in his house, the more Simon hates you. Annoyance morphs into despising you. He’d have thrown you out back onto the streets by now if he could get away with it but when Soap wasn’t by his side, he was by yours.

It ticks him off when he walks into a room and finds you purring happily with Soap curled up around you, big burly arms holding you snuggly against his chest as he snoozes.

Simon didn’t even bother naming you, Soap’s the one who picked something to call you. Simon usually just gruffly calls you ‘cat’ if he needs to speak to you – which he makes it a point not to do very much.

You still don’t speak to Simon. Even when he ‘forgets’ to feed you, you don’t say a word. You don’t complain or seek him out for something to eat. You just choose to starve.

He wonders if you hate him as much as he despises you.

And you and Soap remain the best of friends. The pup is always yapping happily to you and you’re always listening.

As time passes, you even start to follow Soap around. It no longer seems like one-sided adoration.

You love Soap, he brightens your day and makes you happy. You want to be around him all the time. You never thought you'd like a dog but Soap was just so sweet and kind that it was impossible to dislike him -- even when he ruthlessly kissed your face all over and pinned you down so you couldn't escape just so he could give you all the affection he wanted. You never got mad, never showed your claws (in fact, you were extra cautious of your claws with him). You slept with him whenever he wasn't busy snuggling with Simon -- and you'd never dare interrupt the two of them while they were having quality time together!!!

And that also makes Simon furious. Because Soap is his. How dare you have the audacity to think Soap is yours? Simon has put so much love and effort into his relationship with Soap and you prance in with your stupid fluffy tail and little purrs and you’ve got the dog-hybrid wrapped around your finger in no time.

God, he hates you.

It seems like everything comes to a head on a rainy day. The rain always makes Soap hurt, his old injury and joints act up. It leaves him docile and sometimes a little cranky.

He had been a little short with you all day and that hurt. You already dealt with your owner, the man who took you in, refusing to show you any kindness, and now the one companion you had would barely look at you.

It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know how much pain Soap suffered from. You loved the rainy night, it was perfect weather to snuggle up to your favorite hybrid and snooze away.

You found Soap, sprawled on his back on the couch, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t think anything of it. You crawled onto the couch, intending to snuggle in right beside him.

But when you put the tiniest bit of your weight on him, his blue eyes popped open and a loud yelp erupted from his lips. You startled, hissing as your tail puffed up and fuzzy ears pinned back.

Soap practically lept from the couch to get out from under your weight, hitting the floor with a loud thump that had him whimpering softly to himself, curling in on his side.

Simon was storming into the living room not a half second later – finding his beloved pup curled up whimpering and shaking and you, ears pinned, tail puffed, and taking up the spot Soap once was.

Simon didn’t care what had just happened – all he knew was what it looked like; like you had pushed the poor pup off.

Because to him, that’s what cats were; vile, selfish, mean little shits.

You were dragged to the door and tossed right out into the rain without a second thought. Before you could even get your wits about you, the door was slamming in your face and you were alone. You sat on the step for a long while, shivering from the cold rain soaking your thin clothes, just waiting for the door to open again.

But before you knew it, the lights inside were turning off and you heard the front door’s deadbolt slide into place. And you were still outside, alone with nothing to your name but an old t-shirt that you had stolen from Soap.

Simon hadn’t even bothered to get you clothes of your own. Or a collar like Soap’s – one with Simon’s name and number on the back. You had always wanted a collar like that but you knew Simon didn’t care about you enough to even consider you his own hybrid.

You tried your best to stay out of his way and stay quiet and as small as possible so he wouldn’t grow angry or uncomfortable with you. You didn’t ask him for food when he forgot or get under his feet like Soap did. You tried your best to be good and hoped that someday the human would come around but as the days passed, you knew that it wouldn’t happen. You still did your best to not make trouble for him though.

It seemed he was just waiting for an opportunity to get you out of his house.

Your tummy growled, reminding you that you hadn’t been able to eat dinner yet. You stood from the front step and wandered down to the sidewalk, bare feet splashing in the puddles, taking a last glance at the now dark and still house you called home for many months.

With your head hung low, you made your way back to familiar areas where you knew you could dig through trash to find at least something so you wouldn’t sleep hungry tonight.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #cod x reader

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tender-rosiey · 8 months

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MORE HUSBAND!SUKUNA PLSSSS (not forcing TvT) (not modern-)

tough love — ryomen sukuna x gn!reader

a/n: okay but like imagine living in a palace with this guy

your husband is sweet, but not in the traditional sense.

when you think of sweet, you think of nights spent with hushed whispers and mutual giggles, you think of flowers at your doorstep every single day.

you don’t think of a 7 foot something man, with the biggest scowl on his face, staring at you in the early morning and scaring the heebie-jeebies out of you.

but he is still sweet.

despite the blood staining his hands and his manic grin doing such acts, the same hands have the ability to hold you as gently as one would stroke a flower’s petal.

they’re able to cradle you and carry you to bed and tuck you in. sure, there is no goodnight kiss, but that’s because he doesn’t leave. when you rest, your husband stays awake on the look to make sure that no harm comes to you.

he is rough with what he does. still, you feel happiness about to overflow when, for example, he gets you jewelry he believes would suit you.

add to that, the fact that he personally puts them on you. you remember that one time he got back from his endeavor—terrorizing yet another village—and he greeted you with a box painted with gold and wrapped in velvet.

you took the box from his hands and opened. it revealed a very exquisite anklet with jewels of your favorite color. they are organized in a matter that you distinctly remember telling your husband about and how pretty that is to you.

you looked up to him giddily, “so you do pay attention!”

he takes the anklet from the box, grumbling, “shut up,” and despite his harsh tone and words, he kneels and puts the anklet on you. it’s a bit hard, considering his big hands and long nails, but he manages. he pulls back with a smirk, and you examine the anklet on your leg.

“I like it.”

“of course, you do; I chose it.”

he is an ass, but that same guy takes care of you when you’re sick—somehow. when news had spread that you’ve fallen ill, you expected that your husband would simply send the maids to your aid and the doctors to ensure your rapid and swift recovery.

instead, what you saw was the figure of your—scary—husband stood at your door. you peek from under the covers, a cough escaping your lips, “how can I help you, husband?”

he frowns down at you, “you look like shit.”

you start laughing, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit—his frown deepens—, “well—obviously! I am sick,” you try to get a look of what’s behind him, “where are the maids and doctors?”

he sits on the bed, right by your side, and rests a hand on your forehead, “I am not letting their filthy hands touch you,” a sigh threatens to escape him, when he feels your temperature, “you’re foolish.”

you huff, “I can’t control how sick I get, you know!”

“well, you could’ve avoided this, if you had listened to me when I told you not to play in the rain.”

the memory brings a dopey smile to your face.

the rain was falling freely but gently. the wind was blowing just right. and your husband was watching you, under the door frames so he doesn’t get wet. he called for you, of course, but you’re a free spirit and wanted to enjoy the outdoors a bit more.

you’re never confided in the walls of the palace, but it’s nice to feel like a rebel every once in a while even if it ends up with you being sick in bed.

he sees the little kick of your feet, “but, it was fun, right? I even managed to get you to stand in the rain with me!”

yes, he did, in the end and after much whining, go in the rain with you. he was simply standing there, but it’s the thought that counts, right? and because he is the king of curses, he didn’t get sick, but he did get stuck taking care of you.

it’s a win in his book—even if he hates seeing you all frail like that—but he would never tell you that.

he shoves a cup of water to your lips, and grumbles, “shut up and drink.”

your goes up to hold the cup, but his glare makes you slowly lower them back down. you get the memo that he wants to take care of you, to the fullest. he slowly helps you drink all of the water.

so you relax the entire night, letting him nurse you back to health. he is a bit clumsy throughout it, and you understand it’s because he never truly cared for someone before nor did someone care for him in a way so tender and gentle.

you think it’s cute: his determination mixed with a hint of roughness and cluelessness.

you want to giggle and chuckle at some of the things he does like how he was confused about which medicine you were supposed to take and at what hour.

or like how—despite his enormous strength—he was unable to take the cover of the bottle of herbs off, but you’re sure he would either glare at you or leave you to suffer alone for an hour.

so yeah, he stays with you the entire time you’re sick, night and day, never leaving your chambers. even when he needed something like medicine or a wet cloth, he would send the maids.

he stays by your side till you’re back to your feet with a smile on your face.

and when you’re dinning on the very long and gigantic table, you look intently at your husband’s face. he reminds you of something with his permanent scowl and grumpily attitude.

he notices your gaze and groans, “what is it now?”

you gasp as you finally come to the long awaited realization.

a tiger.

your husband is a tiger, one hell of a grumpy tiger.

“your face looks stupider than usual; what’s up with you now?”

an asshole tiger.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna fanfic #ryomen x reader

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moki-dokie · 5 months

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been seeing some stuff on blue eye samurai and big yikes to nearly everyone pushing extremely western ideals onto these characters.

this is early edo period. 1600s. the japan you know now did not exist yet.

yall. please. there was NO concept of sexuality in pre-modern japan. that came with both the influx of christianity and western influence very very late in history. like, mid-1800s. (yes, there was christianity pre-1800s but it was not a widespread idea yet and wouldn't be until about the 1800s since, y'know, missionaries were routinely murdered before then)

"so and so is either bi and hasn't figured it out yet or..." no. that isn't how it worked then. nobody gave a shit what was between your legs. anyone could be attracted to anyone else. it was a little more common for male homosexual relationships to be between an adult and younger male - like many other places around the world - but two adult men could bang and love each other just as easily. relationships between women were quite common - especially since so many men were often away at war. there's tons of pornographic prints from the time depicting all manner of fun queer relationships. sex itself had absolutely no moral assignment to it. good sex was good health. it didn't matter who with. (well, social class/caste mattered more than anything else tbh but that didn't stop upper and lower class from fucking.) that isn't to say people didn't have preferences. of course they did. that is human nature. preferences arose more from physical appearance, caste, and circumstances with gender being about the last thing one would look for in a partner - romantic, casual, or otherwise. the only role in sex where gender actually mattered was for procreation.

there would be no queer awakening moment, no sudden switch flipped, no stigma to have internal conflicts about because it simply did not exist as a concept whatsoever. you were either attracted to a person or you weren't, it was that simple. gender played no role when it came to sex and sexual attraction. the japanese were lightyears ahead of western cultures in this particular area - like most cultures were before christianity came in and ruined everything with its backwards morals and strict good/evil dichotomy.

yall have got to realize queer rep will not and should not always adhere by modern western standards. there was no straight, gay, bi, or anything else of the sort. the closest they ever got was referring to roles during sex - as in who is giving and who is receiving.

i know this is mostly a made up story but it is still set within a very specific time period and culture, which should be honored and respected by not making it fit into our box. tons of research went into making this show historically accurate (albeit with some discrepancies but tbh they aren't really that huge) right down to the calligraphy writing. please please please don't whitewash the culture from these characters.

i say this mainly because without this knowledge, so many of you are going to build these characters up on a foundation they aren't meant to be on and then you'll rage about queerbaiting and bad queer rep if it isn't somehow super explicitly stated, if it doesn't match your very modern, very western ideal of what queer looks like. don't try to force this plot and narrative and characters into something they canonically and historically aren't. headcanons are a thing, AUs are a thing, fanfiction is a thing - leave your western thinking for those and let these characters simply exist as they should otherwise. this is one of those times where the queerness really does not need to be examined at all beyond what we get.

i know it can be hard to wrap your head around - sexuality is such a huge part of our identity in the western world and has slowly started to spread amongst other parts of the world in importance. but just keep in mind with these particular characters, that concept would be so very alien to them.

#blue eye samurai #i'm gonna bite people if i see complaints about queer anything in this show

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valeskafics · 6 months

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"Virgin Sacrifice" - Michael Gavey x Bimbo!Reader

a/n: my first michael gavey fic! enjoy my lovelies 🥰🥰🥰💕

Summary: It's the day before Halloween and the Bullingdon Club boys decide to choose Michael as their annual "virgin sacrifice" - he's got 24 hours to convince the fittest girl in school, namely you, to take his virginity lest everyone learn that he's never had sex.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, loss of virginity, premature ejaculation fdlkgjskfdglkljdfkljs, oral f receiving, tiddy succin, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cream pie

Word Count: 4,000 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

In retrospect, Michael probably shouldn’t have admitted to Oliver that he’s a virgin. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and he should’ve known it was going to come back to bite him in the arse. His palms sweat as he leans against the door of the library, remembering the events of last night.

Michael had been beyond excited to be invited to an exclusive Bullingdon Club banquet - the most exclusive all-male dinner club in the entire university. His first red flag, however, should have been the smirk on Felix’s face when he gestured for Michael to take a seat. The second red flag should’ve been Oliver’s sheepish expression and refusal to meet his eyes.

“You’ve been selected for a very important task, Michael,” Felix had said, with no small amount of glee in his voice, “You see, every year, the club picks out one very special student on campus who isn’t part of us for something extremely important.” He paused, as if for dramatic emphasis before declaring, “My good mate, Oliver, here has brought it to my attention that you are the perfect candidate for this little tradition.”

Michael squirmed in his seat, unsure what the fuck was going on but not exactly liking it, “Yeah? Spit it out, Catton, I have a physics paper to work on-”

“You’re this year’s virgin sacrifice,” Oliver blurted out, earning an annoyed glare from Felix.

“Pardon?” Michael asked, face going bright red with both anger and embarrassment.

Felix went on to explain that by midnight on Halloween, Michael had to lose his virginity to the best looking girl on campus. And if he failed? His photo would be plastered all over Facebook and the actual university, outing him as a virgin, humiliating him in front of the entire student body. He told him that the girl who had to take his virginity had also been chosen. You. The girl Michael has been secretly crushing on since his arrival at this cursed university.

Now, he watches as you pass by him in the hall without a second glance at him, flouncing past in that denim mini skirt of yours, paired with a tight-fitted tee shirt that renders him unable to tear his eyes away from your tits. He watches as you take a seat in the library, crossing one leg over the other, opening a copy of some Nicholas Sparks novel. He resists every impulse in him to point out how stupid those trashy books are as he walks over to you, trying to figure out the best way to get your attention.

Michael takes a deep breath and walks over to the table you’re sitting at, miffed when you don’t immediately notice his presence, rather you just continue reading. He watches as your eyes move across the pages, swallowing hard and clearing his throat.

“Excuse me, if you wouldn’t mind, could I borrow your pen? I seem to have lost mine,” Michael asks, trying not to sound too nervous. He winces when you don’t react in the slightest before realizing that you have earphones on and thus can’t hear him. He taps your shoulder politely, mumbling, “Excuse me, could I have just a moment of your time, please?”

You finally notice him and quickly take off your earphones, a somewhat ditzy smile on your face as you apologize, long lashes fluttering, “Sorry! Can I help you?”

Michael feels his heart skip a beat but finally remembers how to speak, “Oh, yes. Sorry, I was wondering if I could ask you for a small favor.” He decides playing dumb is his best route, even if it feels beneath him, “Do you know what the homework is for Gothic Literature? I forgot to write it down.”

“Oh, sure,” you tell him sweetly, pulling out your agenda from your purse, pink in color with Hello Kitty emblazoned across the front. If it were anyone but you, he’d find it obnoxious and stupid, but since it’s you? He thinks it’s adorable. “We have to submit an outline for the paper by Tuesday and meet with the teaching assistant during office hours by the next lecture.”

“Oh, great, thank you,” he says, relieved that he has broken the ice. Perhaps this won’t be as awful as he thought. “Erm, I actually have another favor to ask,” he says nervously, wringing his hands together, palms continuing to sweat.

You look at him curiously and question, head tilting to the side in confusion, “What’s that?”

He looks right into those pretty eyes of yours and blurts out, face turning red in embarrassment, “I was wondering if you’d be willing to come back to my dorm with me.”

You blink at him owlishly before replying, “I have my own dorm, but thank you.”

Oblivious. Completely oblivious. Michael feels his stomach sink. Of course you didn’t understand what he meant.

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t you understand? I’ve got a, uh, a science experiment in my dorm and I need someone to help me out.”

It’s a thin excuse, but it seems to pique your interest, judging by the way you perk up with excitement and ask, “Ooo, how fun! What kind of experiment?”

“Oh, I’m studying the effects of certain sounds on the female brain,” he lies easily, “And I wanted to see how you would react to listening to some of the songs I found.”

“So I’d be helping you with your research?”

God, you look so fucking cute, looking up at him like that, Michael thinks, as he nods eagerly, “Yes, exactly. Do you think you might be interested? I think it would be fun.”

You think for a moment before nodding, “Okay! I’d love to help.”

“Fantastic,” Michael grins, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “You can just follow me to my dorm and we’ll get started.”

A sly grin forms on his face as you follow him out the door, like a lamb being led to the slaughter. You walk beside him, chattering happily and waving at your many friends on campus. He glances at you, feeling a pang of jealousy every time you pay attention to someone other than him, wanting to be on the receiving end of those pretty smiles. His thoughts start getting away from him as his gaze moves along your body, how your hips sway in that mini skirt, how incredible your tits look in that shirt. He may be a virgin, but fuck if sex hasn’t been all he’s thought about since he turned thirteen.

“Sorry if you feel uncomfortable on the way to the dorm,” he says, clearing his throat, “I know I’m kind of a loser and you’re really sweet and popular with everyone-”

You frown slightly, asking innocently as you take his hand in yours, “Why would I be uncomfortable? We’re friends now! Wow, you’ve got big hands.”

Michael feels his heart skip a beat at how soft and small your hand is in his, his mind traveling to dirty places about how those hands would feel wrapped around his cock, cupping his balls-

“Thanks,” he says, clearing his throat, “Most people don’t like me much. I can be… Overly analytical sometimes.”

“People think I’m overly ditzy at times,” you shrug, “Who cares what they think?”

Michael smiles at you, a bit shyly, “That’s true. We shouldn’t care. You’re right.”

When the two of you finally reach his dorm, he gestures for you to come inside and take a seat on his bed, informing you that he needs to queue up the music on his computer and get everything ready for the experiment. You sit at the foot of his bed, shivering slightly at how cold it is. And the cold has made it quite obvious that you’re not wearing a bra. Michael notices the way your breasts strain against your shirt, your nipples quite obvious through the thin fabric. He can’t help but look, blushing wildly as he hurriedly sets up the “experiment”. His eyes flicker to your legs, specifically your thighs.

“Sorry, it’s cold. They keep these dorms freezing for some reason. You can borrow my sweater if you like.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” you chirp, uncrossing and recrossing your legs, “Don’t worry about me.”

He notices the subtle jiggle of your breasts at the movement, his heart in his throat as his eyes move along your legs, pants feeling tighter as his mind races with some not very PG-13 thoughts, “You sure?”

“Uh huh.”

You take the headphones attached to his computer, LimeWire cued up with a few songs, your delicate hands brushing against his. You’re driving him absolutely crazy. He clicks on a song, some energetic pop tune, asking you to take a listen. You put the headphones on and bob your head to the beat, humming along with the song, clearly enjoying the song.

“Cuz every time we touch, I get this feeling,” you sing along, “And every time we kiss, I swear I can fly. Can’t you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last. Need you by my side.” Michael can’t help but imagine that you’re singing to him in that lovely voice of yours, “Cuz every time we touch, I feel this static. And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky. Can’t you feel my heart beat so I can’t let you go? Want you in my life.”

He’s never liked this song before today. But now, he wants to send Cascada a damn fruit basket. He queues up the next song, glancing at your shapely legs, imagining just grabbing you and pulling you onto his lap, cock growing harder with every passing moment. His breath catches in his throat as you lean in, resting your chin against his shoulder, chest pressed against his arm. You feel so warm and soft against him and he has to shift slightly to give his cock the friction it so desperately needs. He wraps his arm around you, claiming to be trying to help you warm up.

“You’re really sweet,” you kiss his cheek and smile, “Thanks, Michael.”

He stares at you, cheeks and ears turning bright red as he moves onto the next song. You listen, humming along once more, getting lost in the music. Michael inhales deeply, looking at your lips, so soft and so kissable.

“Is this Yaz?” you question, “My mom loves this song. It’s one of my faves too.”

“Yeah, it is,” Michael grins, glad that you recognized it, listening intently as you sing along.

“All I needed was the love you gave, all I needed for another day. And all I ever knew. Only you.”

He gets lost in watching your lips move, your chest heaving as you breathe. It’s like you’re singing only for him. He stares at your lips, body feeling warmer with each passing moment, the temptation to grab you by the neck and kiss you growing. And then, he does it. He goes for a kiss, praying to whatever god may exist that you kiss him back.

And you do. You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling against his lips as you kiss him. Michael’s hands cup your face and he deepens the kiss, tongue licking at your lips, begging for entrance which you readily grant. He moans against you as his tongue moves against yours, pants growing tighter with each breath you take against him, your thighs pressed flush against his. He looks at you, stunned, when you move to straddle his lap, deepening the kiss, hands moving to your waist.

You grind your hips down against him, driving him absolutely crazy as you moan, “You’re a good kisser.”

He smiles bashfully, unable to believe that the most gorgeous girl in school is kissing him right now. It’s like he’s in heaven. Your lips move to his neck, kissing him, nipping at his skin as Michael moans, body melting at the feeling, his hands moving up your thighs, his entire body trembling.

“Have you done this before?” you ask, your breath hot against his ear.

“Never,” he says, eyeing where your hand has moved to rest against his thigh, dangerously close to his hard-on, “Y-you’re my first kiss…”

“Maybe I can be more than your first kiss,” you say playfully, pinning him down to the bed and giggling.

Michael shivers, nodding eagerly, “Maybe you can play with me then.”

“You want that?” Michael gasps softly as you lean in, brushing your nose against his, “You want me to play with you?”

Michael is an absolute fucking mess. You have him pinned down to the bed, you’re grinding against him and teasing him, it’s his every dream come true. And so all he can do is nod, looking up at you, his glasses fogged up from your heated kiss.

“Beg me,” you giggle, kissing his neck, “Come on, baby.”

It’s the most delicious torture he’s ever been subjected to, he thinks to himself. How fitting that it’s Halloween night and he’s here in his dorm with the most gorgeous little demon he’s ever met. His words come out as more of a moan than an actual request.

“Please, pretty please… Play with me.”

Your lips move to the hollow of his throat, up along his jaw, “Say it again.”

Michael shivers as you gently blow in his ear, letting out a loud moan, his eyes scrunched shut as he begs, “Please, please, please play with me, I’m begging!”

You kiss his lips again, grabbing his hands and placing them on your arse, moaning softly as he squeezes the flesh between his large hands. He feels like his body is going to explode from all the pleasure he’s experiencing, eyes going wide with surprise when you speak.

“Heard you’re supposed to be this year’s virgin sacrifice,” you tease, “They can’t sacrifice you if you’re not a virgin.”

Michael’s cheeks flush bright red as he feels your barely clothed pussy rubbing against his cock over the fabric of his pants, “You’re a bad influence on me.”

“Am I?” You tease, pulling your shirt and skirt off, leaving you completely naked, straddling him. His jaw drops as you lean in, whispering against his lips, “Everyone says I’m a sweetheart, actually.”

Michael admires the fullness of your breasts, your thighs, everything, before speaking, “My mind says you’re sweet. But my heart says you’re bad. And I think you know that deep down.”

“I’m a very nice girl,” you protest in an adorable tone, continuing to kiss him, “And you’re a nice boy.”

You tug at his sweater, pulling it off of him and tossing it aside in the pile of your clothes at the side of his bed. Michael nearly whimpers, slapping a hand over his mouth to hold back the sound as you rake your pretty pink nails down his chest. You bring his hands up to your tits, urging him to squeeze them, which he does immediately. They feel so soft and full in his hands, his thumbs moving over your nipples, feeling them pebble against his touch.

“You look so cute with your glasses all fogged up,” you tease.

Michael laughs quietly, “You know just how to tease me, don’t you?”

The two of you kiss again, hot and desperate and wanting as you grind yourself against his cock, making him whine against your lips, “You sure you’re a virgin? You seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Michael smiles at your words and nods. He’s never been with anyone, but God, has he had fantasies. His hands move up your back and into your hair, his entire body quivering with want as you kiss and bite at his neck.

“How long have you wanted me?”

Michael whimpers softly, his voice a low rasp as he replies, “Since the first day of uni when I saw you. You were always so nice to me. But then I would just laugh at myself because you’re this gorgeous woman and I’m just a nerdy kid. How could you ever want me?”

You shake your head, smiling playfully at him, “I’ve always had a thing for nerds. Intelligence is sexy.”

Michael shudders, squeezing at your arse as the two of you continue to kiss, your hips moving faster and faster against him. And then, he feels it. His eyes go wide with horror as he spills himself in his pants. He stares at you, lips parted as he tries to grab his pillow and cover up the stain on the front of his trousers. This is the most fucking humiliating moment of his life. How could he have cum in his pants just from kissing you? He feels utterly pathetic.

But then? You lift his face up so that he meets your eyes, a soft smile on your face.

“Don’t worry about that,” you murmur, “It happens to lots of boys their first time. We’ll take it slow, baby.”

Michael can’t help but blush more, “It was you. You’re too beautiful,” he mumbles, hands caressing your breasts again as he feels his cock twitch in his trousers.

You giggle, “It’s so not my fault!”

He shakes his head, “It absolutely is! You know what you’re doing to me!”

He decides to take a chance and takes one of your tits into his mouth, lips wrapped around your pert nipple, his tongue swirling around it, reveling in the sound of your moans as you tug at his hair. Michael gazes up at you, asking if you’d mind lying back for him because there’s something he really wants to try. You nod, moving to lay back on his bed, watching as he kisses every inch of your exposed skin before he gets to the apex between your thighs. Michael gazes up at you, biting his lip before giving your pussy a tentative lick. You whine, writhing against the bed, grabbing him by the hair, tugging at it. Oh, you do like it, Michael realizes, burying his face between your thighs. The movements of his tongue are unpracticed and awkward at first, but fuck, the way he moans, the way he gazes up at you, his eyes wide with lust, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he tastes you… You grind your cunt against his face, feeling his nose against your clit.

“Oh my God, Michael, right there,” you squeal, rolling your hips, “So good for me, don’t stop, baby…”

Michael continues fucking you with his tongue eagerly, his lust overtaking him as he grinds his hips against the bed. He feels your thighs trembling, your breaths becoming more and more shallow as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. He recalls something he saw in a video once and moves to latch his lips onto your pearl, suckling at it, rolling the sensitive nub between your lips, loving the way you mewl his name, you entire body going lax as you come on his tongue. He moves up to kiss you, hands finding your breasts again as he eagerly questions how he was.

“You were perfect, baby,” you coo, undoing his pants, seeing that he’s hard again, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you, “Are you ready?”

He nods eagerly as you move to straddle him once again, that soft hand of yours giving him two slow pumps, “Uh huh…”

Michael watches with bated breath as you sink down onto him slowly with a soft moan of his name. He’s never felt anything so perfect. Your pussy is so warm and wet and tight around him that he’s afraid he’ll cum again right away. But you just stay like that without moving for a moment, your lips moving to his face, kissing his cheeks, then his own lips, a slow, sensual kiss. Michael feels like his entire body is on fire when you finally start to move, one of his hands on your breast, the other cupping your ass as you begin to bounce on his cock.

“Tell me if you need me to slow down,” you murmur, “Want your first time to be good, baby.”

He nods, lips parted, looking at you through those glasses, eyes wide. His teeth sink into his lower lip as he feels you squeezing around him, the sound of your skin slapping against him. You move your hips faster and faster, whining as you feel his cockhead brush against your most pleasurable spot, giggling as he buries his face in your neck.

“You like that, baby?”

He nods eagerly, bucking his hips up against you with uncontrollable fervor, his balls tightening as he gets closer and closer. He nearly chokes on his own saliva when you tease him about how red his cheeks are, that maybe the two of you should stop. He shakes his head vehemently, begging you to continue, admiring the wicked little grin on your face as you continue lifting yourself up and sinking back down onto his cock over and over and over.

“So needy,” you coo, lips meeting his in a hot, wet kiss, your tongue moving against his as you fuck him.

Michael nods, whimpering, “I can’t help it. You feel so good, please don’t stop.”

“Are you close, baby?” you whisper, licking the shell of his ear, “You gonna cum for me? Huh?”

He nods eagerly, “‘M so close… I… Fuck…”

“Let go, baby,” you say softly, “I’m close too. You can let go.”

Your words are all he needs to spill himself deep inside you, feeling you squeezing impossibly tight around him before you reach your own peak. You let out a wanton cry of his name and he lets out a gasp, the two of you falling into each other’s arms on the tiny bed. Michael’s entire body shakes and trembles as he looks at you, immediately moving to kiss you again.

When you wake up, Michael is already awake, gazing at you intently. You notice how pretty his eyes are without glasses. You peck his lips before declaring that you should probably head back to your dorm, earning a pathetic little whine in reply.

“No, please don’t… Stay with me,” Michael begs, “I need you, I need your love, your touch, please!”

“You’re so cute when you whine,” you giggle, “Okay. Let’s sleep a bit longer then.”

“You’re so soft and warm,” Michael mumbles, burying his face between your breasts, lips ghosting against them, “Mmmm.”

You turn your back toward him so that he’s holding you from behind, spooning you. And that’s when you feel his hard-on pressed up against your ass. You giggle, feeling him rolling his hips against yours, cock rubbing against your pussy. You rest your hands over his where they hold you in place by the hips, moving your body against his. Michael’s lips are on your neck as he begins fucking you, hips moving desperately, whining and whimpering your name as he feels your walls fluttering around him. He ruts against you desperately, balls slapping against your ass.

“I need you so bad,” he sounds desperate as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “Fuck…”

You roll your hips in time with his, bringing his hand to your clit, teaching him how you want to be touched, moaning at the feeling of his fingers against you, “Don’t stop, Michael…”

He holds you in place, breathing growing heavy, almost using you like a toy, hips moving frantically as his cock slides in and out of you, “Are you close? Want you to come first…”

“So close, Michael,” you breathe, urging him to move his hand faster and faster until you squeeze around him with a cry of his name, his own end following moments after.

You turn to face him, kissing him softly, eyes fluttering shut as he questions, “Are you my girlfriend now?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

You giggle, cuddling up against him and falling asleep.

Michael realizes he owes Felix and Oliver a very big thank you.

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey smut #michael gavey fic #michael gavey #ewan mitchell #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fic #michael gavey fanfic #ewan nation #my writing #michael oneshot #bimbo!reader

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devourable · 6 months

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your first time • yanderes x reader, part one

nsfw, minors and ageless dni ;; smut (duh), virgin top x bottom gn reader, various kinks that will be tagged per character.

ft. abraham (yandere church boy), sterling (yandere prodigy), gene (yandere hacker), tobias and sebastian (yandere best friends), and mykolas (yandere monster)

this part will just be the guys (excluding the delinquents)! i wanted to put most of my polyamorous groups as well as the girls and enbies in part two. decided last minute to change it a bit and make it sort of ambiguous as to if the reader is a virgin or not. regardless!

thanks again for 2k 🫶

the church boy — abraham atkins ;; dacryphilia, elements of sizeplay, mentions of religion

abraham thought his first time would be well into the future, after he’d gotten married at his church and whisked off to start his own family like his father before him. it was just a part of life to him, not something to really care about or look forward to; but it was supposed to happen that way. but abe… he just couldn’t resist you!

he knew he shouldve stopped you the moment you had found yourself on his lap, pinning him to his bed after what was supposed to be an sleepover had gone completely off course. and he should’ve stopped you when you got your tongue in his mouth, grinded on him, getting him hard for practically the first time in his life. he should’ve stopped things before they went too far — but he couldn’t stop you. or himself, after he started to clumsily hump you back, his hands finding and delicately groping your ass in an attempt to figure out how he could fit against you best. abe has such an innocent hunger about him, he so desperately wants more — more what, exactly? he doesn't really know. you definitely end up having to take lead because he wholeheartedly doesn't know what he's doing.

but once you coax him out of his nerves and a bit of trial and error (he absolutely wouldn't have fit in you dry; and even after you taught him how to work you open and got his dick wet enough, it was still a tight fit!), you finally, finally get him inside you. and abe, poor abe didn't even know what hit him. despite the tears tumbling down his face purely from how good you felt around him, despite the deep rooted guilt of committing such a sin with the one he loved clawing at his chest, he couldn’t help how brutally he ended up fucking you. he’d pour out all of his pent up desire into you in one night, fucking you through climax after climax till you were seeing stars too.

the prodigy — sterling cygnus ;; overstimulation, risky(ish) setting/exhibitionism

it must all be a game to you, his feelings and this weird dynamic in your relationship. even when the two of you actually start dating (…sorta), he still had it in his head that you were just trying to fuck with him. what other reason could there be to explain how he felt aside from it being your fault?

it was when the two of you were in his dorm that he actually decided to push your boundaries, see what you would let him do before your ‘facade’ finally cracked. but you didn’t stop him when he pinned you against your bed, or when he started kissing you, or when the kiss transformed into an unintentionally heated makeout session. it wasn’t until you had started to pull off your shirt and palm at him through his pants that he started to think that you might’ve actually wanted him.

sterling didn’t really know how it went so far, but he stopped caring when the absolute carnal need to just feel you took over his brain. you must’ve assumed that he didn’t know how to make you feel good because he’s inexperienced, right? no? well, he doesn’t believe you. and to ensure you do, you’re not getting out of that dorm until he’s made you cum on him again, and again, and again. you’d have to think he’s playing with you at some point with how often he switches between fucking you and fingering you — he insists on making you cum both ways as many times as you can handle. he’s rattling the walls and got you sobbing his name so loud that no doubt the entire dorm can hear you (the walls were never that thick to begin with anyway). he relishes in not only knowing he’s completely claimed you, but now all of your colleagues will know too. he doesn’t care how much of a mess he’s making with your insides or how much of him spills out of you, nor does he care if you’re exhausted and sore from the waist down. you’re not done until he’s done with you — and being the overachiever he is, who knows when that’ll be? he’d hate to leave you thinking he’s anything but your number one.

the hacker — gene eliades ;; a lil dubcon-y, filming w/o reader’s knowledge

gene had waited for you to make a move on him first, he really did. he even tried enticing you in his own way, always sitting with his legs open so you could see the very clear outline of his dick through his pants, sitting you on his lap when he was working and keeping a hand on your body at all times. he’d kiss you, tell you how crazy you drove him, anything to give you an idea of what he wanted. but you never took that extra step and it left him wondering if it was because you were toying with him or if you really were that dense. either way, he had had enough, and after one particular day where the need burning in the pit of his stomach just wouldn’t go away, he decided that he wouldn’t wait anymore.

when you tried to slip off of his leg to do something, his arm curled around your waist and pulled you square into his lap, making sure you felt every inch of his erection against your ass. you were so irresponsible, constantly getting him riled up and never doing anything about it. did you even like him at all? regardless of your answer he was already sliding his hands under your clothes, groping your chest with one and working your bottoms down with the other.

it was unceremonious, the way gene bent you over his desk and buried himself up to the hilt in you before you could even voice any potential protests. but the feeling of him hitting all the right spots in you made your mind go blank, unable to do anything but moan his name every time he pulled you back against him. god, he loved hearing the way you whimpered for him, feeling you stretch around him when he fucked you just a bit too hard, the way your hips fit so nicely in his hands.

it was a good thing you were too fucked out to notice the little light next to his webcam aimed down at you. you wouldn’t mind if you did, he assumed — there was nothing wrong with wanting to remember this moment later, was there?

the boys next door — tobias & sebastian ;; double penetration, threesome

the pair had fantasized about losing their virginity to you years before it actually happened. the amount of times they’d gotten each other off with your name falling from their lips was too many to count, but god knows it just wasn’t enough for the two. but they never acted on those feelings, not until they had planned out the day to ensure it would be perfect.

you did find it a bit suspicious that the first time you were all free for the weekend at the same time was on the night that toby’s parents went out for an unplanned vacation, but you easily overlooked it when the pair offered you a sleepover (for old time’s sake!), bribed with promises of your favorite snacks and whatever movies you wanted to watch. you were sandwiched between the two in your best friend’s room, oh so aware of the growing tension but unsure where it was leading to — but then toby suddenly asked to kiss you. and what you assumed would be a playful peck ended with you pinned to the bed with tobias holding your wrists while sebastian made himself comfortable between your legs.

they really like you, and they know you like them too — you wanna be their first, don’t you? be their special someone? that’s what toby’s asking between kisses while seb’s lifting your shirt and sliding a hand down the front of your pants. it wasn’t until you finally gave them the permission they’d waited so long for that the pair allowed themself to really get the night started.

toby was the first to break you in while seb held you in his lap. it was a shame the pair didn’t think to record the moment… the face you made when toby fucked into you was so cute! and the noise you made when seb slid under you to try and squeeze into you alongside toby would play in their minds over and over again. they might’ve pushed you a bit too hard, stretching you well beyond your limit without even letting you catch your breath. they just couldn’t resist! you were clamping down on them, sucking them both in like you didn’t wanna let them go. it felt so good to make you cum.

the two were still up long after you had passed out, ogling your ruined state with an undeniable urge to fuck you up even more. they saw it like a badge of honor, proof that you’d always be theirs. the two would let you rest for the time being, but don’t worry — they still had an entire weekend with you ahead, and they didn’t plan on letting you step foot outside that house till their time was up.

the beast — mykolas ;; teratophilia (duh), size difference, outercourse/thighfucking

mykolas really, really didn’t want to hurt you. he was well aware of how big he was, especially compared to you — if you got hurt because he couldn’t control himself, he wouldn’t know what to do!

all of those thoughts were completely disregarded when he started rutting, though. the poor monster couldn’t think straight with his hormones running amok, and you being you — so soft, so small, so vulnerable, it was like you were designed to torture him through the season. you’d very quickly catch on to what was happening to your monstrous partner, considering you’d often be woken up by him grinding up against your back or stomach in a desperate bid to try and relieve the borderline painfully throbbing cock that was bothering him more and more these days. and though he’d never make his needs known vocally, you could just tell — that sad, pleading look he’d give you every time you looked at his pitiful form was just begging you to take care of him.

you knew for certain that you couldn’t just fuck him in his current state. his cock practically matched the length of your torso! and with how reckless his hormones were making him, the possibility of him ‘accidentally’ making you take more than you could handle was too high, even if you did try to take control. so to work around this problem, you opted to get a bit creative with your methods.

mykolas didn’t quite understand what was going on at first when you bent over in front of him, pants pulled down to your knees. but when you guided him between your legs and clamped your thighs around his length, you could tell the switch in his brain had flipped and he completely allowed instinct to take over. you had no clue just how good it’d feel when mykolas’s hard, wet cock rutted against you relentlessly until he was gripping your waist and pulling you against him, fucking your thighs like you were his living fleshlight. but fuck, the way he managed to slide against every sensitive spot he had access to despite his carnal state was nearly driving you insane. and mykolas delighted in the way you clawed at the ground and mewled for him, your voice so pretty when you stammered out his name. it didn’t take long for either of you to cum at that rate.

despite the mess mykolas made of your thighs and stomach, though, he wouldn’t let you get off him. he’d been pent up for so long, repressing his desire to mate with you, he couldn’t just stop there! so he went again, and again, humping you in any position he could think of, pinning you down, thoroughly wrecking you as best as he could. you were gonna be in for a rough mating season now that mykie knew how to relieve himself with you — but you didn’t mind, he assumed. you were the one that showed him how to feel better, after all.

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onlyhuis · 5 months

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love thy neighbor

member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!

joshua should be asleep right now.

really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week.

but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.

maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.

the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.

really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you.

and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.

except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.

having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t).

he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.

a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.

so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.

he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.

oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)

but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)

so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you.

but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own.

after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.

god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.

earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.

were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.

but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).

you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you.

he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.

which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.

it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out.

so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?

either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.

you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?

“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.

you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.

“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”

you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.

cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.

the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic.

but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.

when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.

of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks.

pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.

unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.

he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day.

on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?

on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.

if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.

in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.

joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.

but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.

he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.

he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all.

but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.

but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.

so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.

hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away.

he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.

he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.

okay

he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.

it’s nothing. don’t worry

joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong.

so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.

you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”

finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”

he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.

“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”

“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.

“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.

you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.

“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”

you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”

“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”

“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh.

he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”

“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”

“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”

“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”

his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”

“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands.

joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.

“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”

he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”

you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”

“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”

“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.

now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”

“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.

“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”

you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”

his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.

you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.

“so about the walls thing—”

“hm?” he mumbles.

“—you can really hear everything?”

he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”

your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”

he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”

“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.

“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”

you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.

“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”

you pout. “that was only that one time!”

“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”

heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder.

“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.

“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.

“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.

“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.

you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”

you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.

the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach.

“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”

you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”

“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.

joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin.

“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”

after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.

“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.

your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”

“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.

you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?

your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.

he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.

“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.

“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.

his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.

you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?

he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.

“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”

you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.

and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.

even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out.

with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.

“joshua?”

“mhm?”

“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.

he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.

even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin.

laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back.

but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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