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#i'm bad at typing with a clear tone so
zerofoursix · 2 years
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Will you draw Ange Ushiromiya? She is a cool character!
she IS a cool character! but i don't take requests. like i said in a previous ask, i'm very sick right now and rarely draw anything for myself, let alone for others, and i tend to prefer taking commissions anyway. but if i ever do decide to take requests, i'll make a post asking for some!
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wrioluvr · 26 days
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flirty playboy x mature male reader
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this stupid ass meme had been on my mind forever and i realised how funny it would be to have a slutty playboy who just sleeps with anyone to seriously pine over a more mature, secure guy who doesn't fall for any of his shallow charms and tricks.... here are just some blurbs of their dynamic (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)
his name is roman. he's a little toxic, but he just wants to be loved.
cw: some smut, top male reader
it all started with a little night out. you didn't do those often, due to devoting most of your time towards work and earning a stable career, but finishing this particularly gruelling assignment called for a celebration. at the bar, dancing with your friends, a good-looking man with a playful glint in his eyes approached you full of bravado. he told you how handsome you were, and had been eyeing you from across the room for a while now. but from a single glance, you could tell he was the type to break hearts. beach-blonde dyed hair, a tight fitting tank top revealing his muscular build, an eyebrow piercing, the way his mouth curled up so subtly into a little smirk.... he was everything you knew to avoid getting serious with. but a little hookup couldn't hurt, right? you deserved a little fun.
and it didn't hurt you at all. a few failed relationships had made you wise beyond your years, knowing to easily seperate the good guys from the bad. you knew your self-worth. roman, on the other hand, was absolutely smitten. no other man had fucked him THIS good, gave him such gentle aftercare, and even let him stay as long as he needed. the way you so effortlessly lifted his legs up to thrust in and out of him at a rhythmic pace, or fondling his tits and squeezing his nipples softly while you hit it from the back, or tenderly running your fingers down his spine, arching it sensually.... he loved it all. it was clear to him that you prioritised his pleasure as much as your own, and it showed in how he orgasmed several times before you even came in him once, panting breathlessly while wearing the sluttiest expression of his life. it was nothing like any of the men he had sex with before. afterwards, you let him stay the night in a guest room, and even brewed a cup of coffee for him in the morning.
roman was damn near tears when you offered to drop him off at his house before you headed off to work. if he was being honest with himself, his insecurities were the root of his constant need for sexual intimacy, so being treated with genuine kindness for once was new to him.
"is dropping you off here alright?" you ask, turning into the road of his apartment complex.
"y-yeah...." he looks out the window, unsure how to look you in the eyes.
"okay. thanks for last night. stay safe." your words carried an air of finality to them, like you were so sure the two of you would never cross paths again. he didn't like that.
"uh, uh......" he stuttered, all his usual flirtatiousness thrown out the window as he couldn't meet your gaze. "could i... get your number?"
your friendly smile froze on your face. "uhhhh.... sorry, i'm not really looking for anything serious right now."
he quickly regained his composure, charm turned up to the max. shifting his tank top so more of his chest was exposed and you could notice his nipples protruding, roman whispered in a low tone, "that's okay! we can just be casual... and fuck anytime you like." a wink. a hand on your thigh.
"jeez... okay, no offense, but i've heard rumours from my friends that you're a bit of a... playboy. i'm not interested in being your toy, sorry."
roman's face flushed in embarrassment, knowing what you said was true. except the part on him seeing you as a toy. that was untrue. he could feel a warmth growing from the pit of his stomach at the thought of spending more time with you. were these... butterflies?
maybe begging would work.
"okay fine, i am a bit of a player... but please, please, pleaseeeeeee.... let's be in contact, okay? as friends?" roman sniffled pathetically, shaking your shoulder in desperation. he needed to be in your presence. why weren't his usual maneating tactics working?!?!
"alright. here you go. just don't spam me or anything, okay? i gotta go for work. see you." you sigh, a little exasperated but choosing not to let it show. he immediately lit up, typing your number in his contacts and saving many hearts next to your name. you prayed your acts of basic human decency wouldn't cause him to catch feelings. you needed to focus on your job right now.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
3:02pm
[romanbabyxx]
hiiiiiii
[romanbabyxx]
i know you said not to spam you but like
[romanbabyxx]
i miss u
[romanbabyxx]
can we meet up at the bar for drinks or something like that? please?
3:10pm
you check the messages on your phone, rolling your eyes and ignoring them. he was probably sending this text to at least three other guys right now. he had a history of cheating, based on what you heard from your friends. you weren't going to be another one of his victims.
5:35pm
[romanbabyxx]
are u ignoring me?
[romanbabyxx]
im sorryyyyyyyy
[romanbabyxx]
pls hit me back when ur free
7.30 pm
[name]
sorry, just got off work. will be super busy this week, so not free. mb.
[romanbabyxx]
oh, its okay! next week then?
[name]
i'll see
this went on for a few weeks, you constantly evading his invitations, being polite and professional, never too intimate over text. roman was starting to get fed up. he's so used to getting everything he wants, he doesn't know what to do when he actually has to work for the one he desires. he actually hadn't hooked up with anyone since your one night stand, but you didn't believe that.
roman was at his wits' end. he could only think of one final plan to get your attention.
trying to make you jealous.
over the next week, he hooked up with any and everyone he met in the bar, not bothering to keep his slutting around discreet. he wanted you to hear the rumours. he wanted you to feel a sense of unease within your very being. he wanted you to feel possessive. he wanted you, to want him. the whole time, even as he was getting fucked, he could only imagine you caressing him, holding him close, loving him.
his deeds didn't go unnoticed. your friends told you about it, yet you didn't feel anything in the slightest. you were right, after all... he forgot about you within a week and moved on to whichever poor man he would leave high and dry next.
the next time you bumped into him at the bar, roman was his usual, party-loving self, excitedly slinging an arm around you, a drink in hand. his plan had to work, surely? you would be begging to have him back. but yet, when he offhandedly (yet so intentionally) mentioned how much dick he had been getting the past week, anticipating your change in expression, nothing happened. "oh. good for you." was all you said.
he sputtered, flustered by your calm demeanour. didn't you care? at all?! "but.... but.... aren't you jealous? that i've been hooking up with other guys?!"
you stare at him, a genuine quzzical expression plastered across your face. "why would i be? it's not like we're dating or anything. it was just a one time thing."
your words hit like a knife through his heart. he clutched his chest dramatically, a pout forming on his lips. "i'll be faithful! i promise!" his words came out more desperate than he intended. he felt so vulnerable, so naked, yet you were the face of serenity. your unimpressed eyes stared through his soul, as if you were scrutinising his very core. he knew you could heal him, make him feel loved, but he was starting to doubt there was any possibility you would feel the same.
"i'm sure that's what you said to the last guy you cheated on."
.
.
.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
i intended for this to be lighthearted but why was it actually kinda depressing tbh
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monarchberrysblog · 3 months
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𝔡𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔭𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔦𝔱
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+18 Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
Summary: I fantasize about it all the time; if you were mine, I’d give this pussy to you nine to five by tonight.
You never wanted to go to work; you just wanted to get to work. After Miguel gets a haircut and gets something new, you decide to test it to see if you can still get a good grip.
Trigger Warnings ⚠️: switch!Miguel (duh), a bit of praise (from Miguel), size kink, cunnilingus (f! receiving), humping, Miguel breaks a couch 😏, breeding kink towards the end, unprotected p in v sex, and wrap it before you tap it. (OOC MIGUEL) if I missed any, let me know!
Word Count: +1.6k words
Author’s Note: Hi, hi, hi! I am somewhat notoriously bad at writing smut, but here we are! I want to improve on it and give you all a well-cooked meal, which is switch! Miguel. (I think the man is a submissive; this is my headcanon that I believe in.)
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To my girlies who love submissive men who have the prettiest moans and groans 💌
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Miguel didn't want to admit it but damn it, he loves it when you ride him. The way your legs trembled, the way you slammed your weight down into him, feeling his bulbous tip getting bullied into your cervix. The man loved it when you took control.
He loves it when he holds you; you are light, but the moment you're on top? The man caves in and begs for more.
This unlocked something in him by simply trying something new on a lazy, rainy Thursday evening…
“The barber did well with your hair…” You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling how soft it was under the pads of your fingers. “Why the taper fade?” You adjusted yourself on the couch where the two of you cuddled and shared a blanket. “It just became a nuisance to deal with after a while. So why not? Something new.”
As you spoke, you could feel a sense of longing. "Imma miss it; I'm not gonna have any leverage to grab when you're eating me—" You expressed, but suddenly stopped when you realized he was staring at you intensely. You could feel his gaze piercing your soul, focusing mainly on your eyes. Feeling embarrassed, you cleared your throat awkwardly and shifted your attention to the TV, which was playing softly in the background. “Sorry.”
Miguel shrugged nonchalantly and focused on the dramatic telenovela on the TV screen. "You never really were the type to grab onto my hair," he admitted. "You always seemed to prefer grabbing onto a pillow, or sometimes a blanket, maybe even your shirt, but that's about it." You lifted your head from his chest, surprised at how observant he was. "How on earth do you know that?" you asked incredulously, a tone that sounded forced. "I just do," he replied confidently. "I can tell you that you tend to whine a lot before you finish."
“Please, I don't whine when I come.” You scoffed before you covered yourself with the soft blanket you two shared.
“Yeah, you do, cariño.”
“Don't push it.”
/
You rolled your eyes back in ecstasy, feeling the wet muscle against your entrance, lightly giving it kitten licks, making it a point to flick at your clit. The man lapped at your juices and slurped up the clear arousal like it was the final meal of his life. Your hands grasp onto his hair, grinding your clit against his nose, moving your hips down towards the top of his nose.
“You're so cute, even with that little clit waiting to get suckled on…” You felt him grab your hips, and his thumb ghosted against the bundle of nerves, immediately feeling something slip out of your entrance. He pulled away from your warm and wet entrance and slipped his ring finger in, feeling your gummy walls flutter at the sensation.
“There you go, you're doing perfect. Take deep breaths.” He hummed, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you.
“Spit on it…” You demanded, squirming your hips. “Not just yet, cariño.” He shushed you, pulling his fingers out and licking the clear arousal off. His tongue lightly probed at your fluttering hole a bit and slowly pulled away. The way your walls contracted, begging to be filled with his length, was enough for the man wanting to cave in.
“We’re going to do something different, cariño.” He breathed to you before he managed to toss you around on the couch, eventually with you on top and him below you. “Come on, put yourself to work.” He demands, feeling your soft, wet pussy against his aching cock.
Reaching down, your hand finally found his length, and you felt yourself playing with it more than anything. You tapped the tip against your entrance, excited to sink into his girth. “No, no, I don't think you understand. I don't want it to be inside just yet.” He pauses for a moment before he moved his hips away from your needy, wet entrance.
“I want you to grind on it.” He breathes out.
You hesitate before you let his cock go, allowing his length to land against his happy trail and lower stomach. Adjusting yourself and placing your hands on his shoulders, you slowly moved your aching core up and down his cock, feeling your clit get the right amount of friction. A quiet moan escapes your lips while the veins down his cock rub against the pearl of nerves. “There you go, cariño…” Miguel groaned out, feeling your arousal coat against his aching length.
“Put your whole weight down; none of this squatting bullcrap.” He grabs you by the hips and pushes you down; you feel his dick in between your folds, causing a gasp to escape. Before even having the time to get yourself comfortable, the hold he had on your waist while he moved you up and down against his length felt as if you were withering under his control. A familiar, warm, tight sensation builds up in your lower stomach before you erupt out a loud, whimpering moan.
“Does that feel good? Do you like that?” He heaves, still guiding you closer and closer to your orgasm. The way you trembled and made a whimpering sound was an indicator for Miguel. “All you gotta do is feel good for me, understand?” You nod, dumbed down by the arousal. The tension was almost palpable and thin, like a threading needle waiting to be snipped off by the sisters of faith with their sharp scissors.
“Aww, you can't speak? Is my girl getting dumbed down by grinding herself on my cock? Qué sucia. Dímelo, ya lo quieres?” His words sounded like venom—sweet but intoxicating venom escaping from his tongue and lips. The only response from you was a moan while you moved your hips after Miguel seized his movements. “¿Lo quieres?” He groans out, feeling his cock lubricated by your arousal.
“¿Quién te hace sentir bien? Dímelo fuerte, cariño. Quién.” He seizes your movements, not letting you reach your first high for the night. “You…” You breathed out. “Fuck, damn right you are…” Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, creating little crescent indents on his skin, but the man didn't care.
Slowly, Miguel sat up from where he lay down and decided to help his girl. “Here…” His hand reached down to his length, with his fingers holding onto the base of his cock. “Spit on it.” You demanded once again. “Eager, aren't we?” He mused before he spat down, and you felt it land on your clit, causing him to rub his thumb against it slowly, allowing your clit to be doused in his spit.
“C’mon, ride me. Ride me the way I like it.” You felt him tap his now-doused tip against your entrance before you grind yourself into his length, earning a moan for the both of you. “Jesus, your so fucking tight and small.” He groaned out. “Are you trying to make me come—” You felt your knees immediately regret the position, knowing that you're going to be the one to do a lot of cardio for this overstimulated man.
While bouncing on his cock, you felt his grip on your hips tighten, almost as if you were going to slip away from him. “There you go…” Miguel heaves out, soon pulling you into an embrace. “Let me fuck it in you, stay still…” He breathes before you slow your movements down to a halt.
The sound of skin slapping and your loud moans crescendo filled the living room space while being held onto a tight embrace and feeling his cock pumping inside you. Your whimpering cries became more noticeable as your cries went in sync with his harsh thrust. “More…” You whined out, feeling your fingernails dig into his skin; the fast-paced thrusts soon turned sloppy, with his cock sliding out of you every once in a while. “You're killing me, neña…” Miguel groans quietly, keeping up with the rapid, uneven pace, creating a wet, slapping noise.
“C’mon, let's finish together, make me proud.” Tears began to form, and some rolled down your cheeks while you kept up with the overstimulation and with how his tip aggressively bullied at your cervix. “More…” You demanded, moving in sync with his harsh thrusts.
As you were getting your guts rearranged on the couch by Miguel, you couldn't help but notice the creaking sounds coming from underneath the both of you. It seemed to be getting louder by the minute as if the old piece of furniture couldn't bear the weight of two people anymore. Just then, a sharp crack echoed through the room, causing you to jolt and lose your balance. Miguel, however, seemed unfazed by the noise and rolled his eyes as if he was used to it. He continued to keep up with the rapid movements, brushing his happy trail against your lower stomach. “I'll get a new couch soon…” You wanted to laugh at how nonchalant he was being bit the only sounds you can produce is a loud, needy moan instead.
The sounds of whimpers, moans, and cries were palpable; knowing that the two of you would get a noise complaint from neighbors, you didn't care. “Yes! Yes!” You squealed, feeling your climax slowly building up. Clear liquid gushes out, while a loud moan is the last sound you can produce deep into your chest. “Please let me breed you, fuck, I'm gonna breed you, cariño.” He pants to you, thrusting his cock into you, earning another orgasm from you and a splash zone on the already collapsed couch. “You feel so good…”
The way you felt him twitch inside you, along with his rapid rhythm slowly coming to an end. The pullout was swift, with some of Miguel’s remnants seeping out of your fluttering hole. “Good girl…” He rubbed his hand on your hip lovingly, seeing his semen oozing out and onto the fabric of the couch. A kiss to your lips brought you back to your senses as you happily returned the kiss and calmed down from your high.
“The couch…”
“I needed a new one anyways.”
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sunkissed-zegras · 22 days
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𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐒; 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 ─ PB⁵
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "oh my gosh, paige bueckers x uconn wbb athletic trainer intern with a situation at a game where paige gets a bloody nose (like the uconn vs seton hall) and paige like refusing to get cleaned up and reader like commands.. (i feel so silly typing this) but basically forces paige to let reader clean her up and the internet GOES CRAZY BC OF THE WAY UR HOLDING PAIGES FACE AND THE CLEAR TENSION BETWEEN YOU TWO (reader and paige can be like friends with clear sexual tension or secret relationship whatever u like girl pop 😛)"
─ word count | 1.7k
─ warnings | friends with tension type shit!!!!! mention of aggressive playing, paige being slightly mean (due to her being frustrated), descriptions of blood noses, kissing and making up,
─ ev's notes | i saw that video and IMMEDIATELY saved it to camera roll, i am so down bad
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THE GAME WAS going pretty well up until the second half, everyone was playing aggressive and obviously, that was when people got hurt.
Usually, Paige tried her best to stay out of trouble. But tonight was different, these players were too cocky for their own good and Paige knew she had to humble them really quick.
As the second half kicked off, Paige felt a surge of determination. She dribbled past defenders with profencity, her moves as smooth as silk. As Paige drove towards the basket, weaving through defenders, one player decided to play dirty. With a swift elbow to the face, Paige staggered backward, feeling a sharp pain erupt in her nose.
Blood gushed from her nostrils, staining her jersey crimson. For a moment, the gym fell silent as everyone watched in shock. But Paige refused to let the pain stop her. She wiped away the blood, her determination burning brighter than ever.
Paige's frustration bubbled over, but she knew arguing with the referee wouldn't change the call. With a heavy sigh, she begrudgingly made her way to the bench, her jaw clenched with pent-up anger.
Paige stormed to the bench, her nostrils still dripping with blood. She clenched her fists, struggling to rein in her anger as you, the team medic, made your way toward her. She caught your worried gaze as she got up from the bench, pacing as she kept arguing with, you really weren't sure at this point.
Her teammates exchanged worried glances, knowing that Paige's fiery temper could sometimes get the best of her. But they also understood her frustration. They had felt the sting of unfair calls and dirty plays themselves.
"I'll put you back in when I know you're hot hurt and angry," Geno urged, his tone firm. "We can't afford to lose you to a technical foul or worse."
"I'm fine," she mumbled as she sent her coach a glare. You tried to dap the blood on her face with a towel but she moved her head away, her stubbornness getting the best of her. "I'm fine, for God's sake," her voice came out annoyed as she gripped your arm, pushing you away.
You felt a rush of frustration and something else — something you couldn't quite name — as Paige pushed you away, her grip on your arm firm but fleeting. It wasn't the first time her stubbornness had grated on your nerves, but there was something different about the way she looked at you, the way she touched you.
"Hey, look at me." You spoke sternly, only to be ignored. "Hey, I'm the damn medic and I'm telling you to sit the hell down so I can get you back out there, do you get that? Or you can't hear me now?"
When she ignored you for the second time, your patience with her finally snapped. You grabbed her arm and pulled her into the bench, gripping her face as you began cleaning up the blood on her face.
Paige's annoyance was evident as she glared up at you, but didn't say another word. She knew how you got when she didn't listen to you and she didn't wanna feel your wrath right about now. However, she just couldn't keep her mouth shut.
"Would you just lay off already?" she snapped, her voice sharp with frustration as she jerked her face away from your touch. "I don't need you bossing me around like some child."
"You're acting a fucking child, you need to relax and trust your teammates." You snapped back, Paige's eyebrows furrowing in anger as she let you continue clean her up.
As you wiped away the blood, your movements were firm yet gentle, your touch a silent reassurance that despite your clash, you were still there for her. And though Paige remained stubbornly silent, her gaze softened ever so slightly as she watched you work.
"Paige, I just want what's best for you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "I know you're strong, but even the strongest of us need help sometimes."
Paige's gaze softened, her anger dissipating quickly. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to regain her thoughts ─ she knew that you were her soft spot, a place of comfort and understanding in a world that often felt overwhelming.
As she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing into yours, a warmth spreading through her chest at the sight of your familiar face. With a sigh, Paige leaned into your touch, a silent admission of acceptance.
"I know, I'm sorry for snapping at you," Paige murmured, her voice soft.
You nodded in understanding, your gaze never leaving hers. "I get it," you replied, your voice gentle as you continued to brush her hair back from her face.
You finished up cleaning her nose and she sighed, her shoulders relaxing as the last of the tension seemed to drain from her body. As you finished cleaning her nose, Paige let out a deep sigh, the weight of her earlier outburst lifting from her shoulders.
"Thanks," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude as she met your gaze. "I appreciate it."
You smiled, a warmth spreading through your chest at her words. "Of course, Paige," you replied, your voice gentle as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm just glad you're okay."
But before she could respond, she heard her coach call out for her. She gave you a quick smile as she jogged up to Geno, her steps lighter now that the tension had been lifted. You watched her go with a sense of relief, glad to see her back.
As Paige jogged up to Geno, you couldn't help but admire the way she carried herself with confidence.
──
"Hey," Paige's voice rang out in the empty medical room as you glanced back at her with a smile, your head turning back to the task at hand as you heard Paige's footsteps toward you.
"Hi," you replied, your fingertips stretching as you attempted to reach the tissue box perched on the top shelf. Paige let out a soft laugh as she reached over your shoulder, effortlessly grabbing the tissues and passing them to you.
You blushed under her gaze, your fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment as you took the box. "Thank you, P."
The warmth of her touch sent a shiver down your spine, a sensation you couldn't quite shake as you turned back to the task at hand. Paige smiled back, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned against the counter beside you.
"No problem," she replied, her voice soft but filled with amusement. "So about the game..."
"Don't worry about it, it was in the heat of the moment." You answered quickly as you glanced back the blonde. You could see the guilt in her expression as her gaze lingered on yours, a flicker of regret dancing in her eyes. But before you could say anything else, Paige spoke up, her voice tinged with sincerity.
"I'm really sorry for snapping at you earlier," she said, her tone earnest as she met your gaze. "I know I can be a handful sometimes, especially when I'm worked up."
You smiled, a wave of understanding washing over you at her words. "It's okay, really," you replied gently, your voice soft but reassuring. "And I know how to handle you when you get like that, and I know you didn't mean it."
Paige's lips turned upward as she heard you talk, her shoulders relaxing visibly as a sense of relief washed over her. "Thanks for putting up with me, even when I'm being a bitch."
You let a small laugh as you shook your head, looking back at the blonde with a sense adoration. You felt your stomach do a flip as you met Paige's gaze, a warmth spreading through your chest at her words.
"Hey, you're not an ass," you replied, your voice filled with genuine affection. "You're just passionate, and I admire that about you."
"Oh come on, you don't have to get all professional on me now." Paige joked as she gazed at you.
You shook your head, sincerity in your voice as you spoke. "No, I'm being honest. Seriously, that's one of the million other things I admire about you," you spoke softly as Paige's amused expression dissipated into a soft one.
You felt the atmosphere shift slight as Paige gazed back at you, you thought your heart was going to jump out of your chest with how fast it was beating.
Paige leaned closer before she spoke, her voice much softer than before. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft hum of the room. "That means a lot to me, coming from you."
You felt your breath catch in your throat as Paige leaned even closer, the air between you crackling with an electric intensity that left you both breathless. With a soft smile, she reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, her touch lingering as you savored the closeness to Paige.
Paige's hand cupped your cheek as she leaned in slowly, her lips barely touching yours in an almost-kiss. She then pushed your lips into hers, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you as your lips met in a sweet, tentative kiss. The world seemed to fall away around you, leaving only the warmth of Paige's touch and the gentle press of her lips against yours.
With a soft sigh, you melted into the kiss, your hands finding their way to Paige's hair as you pulled her closer, your heart pounding in your chest with a wild abandon. As the kiss deepened, you found yourself lost in the sensation, the taste of Paige's lips against yours intoxicating and exhilarating all at once.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the kiss, the softness of Paige's lips against your own filling you with a sense of warmth and longing that you had never known before.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy with emotion, you found yourself gazing into Paige's eyes, the depth of her gaze reflecting the same feelings swirling within your own.
"Wow," Paige whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your skin. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."
You smiled, a rush of joy and relief flooding through you at Paige's words. "Me too," you admitted softly. With a soft smile, you reached out to take Paige's hand in yours, the warmth of her touch sending a surge of warmth through you.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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keerysfreckles · 5 months
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Luke x percy’s older sister angst/fluff comfort where her nightmares get really really bad and she hasn’t been able to sleep so she lashes out on everyone and distances herself and her and luke really fight but then he comforts her because reader spilled to annabeth and ofc it’s gonna spread hahahah
bummerland — luke castellan
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pairing: luke castellan x fem poseidon!reader
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, ANGST!!!
a/n: we get the tunnel of love episode tomorrow AND THE PERCABETH HUG SCENE IM TOTALLY NORMAL ABT THIS..
masterlist !
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
y/n jolts awake. beads of sweat dripping off her forehead and cheeks. she's surpsied percy hasn't woken up because of her reaction to her nightmares. turning to her left, she sees percy fast asleep.
half-bloods always had nightmares. some campers had it worse than others. tonight y/n could've sworn she had the worst nightmare any half-blood could have.
the nightmares weren't new to the girl. they just started getting worse ever since she got claimed by her father, which was three weeks ago.
y/n wasn't usually the angered type. in percy's words, "she has her moments", but she never was angry at anyone for long periods of time.
since y/n the only older camper in the poseidon cabin, it automatically made her a camp counselor. which might explain why the campers were confused that she didn't show up during sword lessons today. her, luke and clarisse were supposed to teach them today. luke and clarisse managaed to help all the campers, but having y/n there would've made it a hundred times easier.
no one really questioned it, until y/n didn't show up at lunch or dinner that same day. annabeth asked percy about it at lunch, and he guessed she was taking a nap, which wasn't unusual for his sister.
however when luke asked percy for y/n's whereabouts, he didn't know how to answer the hermes boy. percy hasn't seen y/n all day, which only worried both of them.
the next day passed the same way as yesterday. not one camper saw y/n. this made percy more anxious, as well as annabeth. luke made it his mission to find the missing counselor.
luke checked cabin three, and wasn't surprised to only find two empty beds. he then checked the infirmary, the big house (minus the attic), the climbing wall, and near the lake. he ran his fingers through his hair, sighing once he realized y/n was still missing in the camp.
luke was about to go back to his cabin ans call it a night, until his heard a noise coming from inside the woods. it wasn't any sort of monstrous sound, which was the only reason luke followed the noise without a second thought.
he continued to trek through the woods as the noise became louder. he recognized the path was leading him towards the archery range. he can't believe he didn't check the archery range on his own.
once the trees cleared, he saw an empty range. until his eyes landed on y/n shooting arrows at the overused hay bales. luke caught up to her as she was walking to reclaim her arrows, ready to shoot again.
"y/n, we've all been worried about you. none of the campers said they didn't see you. neither did percy," luke grabs her elbow, stopping her movements.
y/n looks at luke as if he had three heads, all with smoke steaming out of their ears. "what are you doing out here?"
luke's surprised by her tone. it seemed rush and cold. he can't remember if he ever heard y/n talked like that.
"i was looking for you! i was so worried about you."
y/n shakes her arm out of luke's grasp and just continues to collect her arrows. "i'm fine luke, really."
luke scoffs, and follows her as she walks back to her bow at the other end of the range. "you wouldn't be avoiding the whole camp for two days, you think that's fine? that's the opposite of fine y/n!"
y/n doesn't respond. she preoccupied herself with loading her bow with a brown arrow provided by the camp.
"what, now you're going to ignore me?" luke's hands were on his hips, watching angrily as y/n continued to ignore his presence. she shot almost three more arrows before he spoke again.
"annabeth told me about you having nightmares," luke's voice was much more soft, but even more concerned.
"why didn't you tell me?" he sounded hurt.
y/n doesn't look towards luke, she starts fiddling with the bow and arrow in her hand. she shook her head, and luke didn't have to see her face to know her bottom lip was quivering.
"i didn't want to bother anyone. annabeth pushed it out of me, and i guess she told you," y/n responded.
luke grabbed the bow and arrow out of y/n's hand and set them on the ground, before he took both of the girl's shoulders in his hands.
"y/n you have to believe me when i tell you, you're not a bother to me. you're not a bother to anyone at camp, i swear."
y/n shrugs luke's hands off her body, and went back to shooting arrows down the range.
luke let out a sound of anger, mixed with stubbornness. "y/n, can you just come back to the camp so people can stop worrying about you, and we can talk about it?"
luke sighs again since he knew he wasn't getting an answer out of the girl.
"gods, y/n, will you stop and just talk with me?"
y/n could tell luke was getting more and more frustrated. she knew she couldn't ignore him forever. she throws the bow on the ground, and discards her arm protection. the girl was now fully facing luke.
"go ahead, talk."
luke starts to explain again how worried he was, and how worried the campers were that no one knew where she was. no one knew why she disappeared, until luke got the information from annabeth, about y/n's reoccurring nightmares.
"all half-bloods have nightmares y/n, you know we all relate to you about that. so why couldn't you just talk to someone about it instead of vanishing?"
y/n tried to respond. her mouth opened, but nothing came out. it's as if her voice box was completely removed. she looked all around, trying to avoid luke's eye contact. she tried to speak once more, but the same croak-y airy sound came out.
"come here," luke simply said, before pulling y/n's arm. he engulfed her in a hug, and she was quick to respond by wrapping her arms around luke's waist. he whispered comforting words in the air, as he held her head to his sternum. he believed she was the perfect height for hugs.
luke heard small cries coming from the girl in his arms, which soon turned to y/n choking on her own sobs. he was fast at calming her down. he did it plenty of times while she was in hermes' cabin, he practically knew her better than she did.
"are you okay?" luke asked once he heard her cries soften, now she was only sniffling. he felt her nod against his chest, and he started to rock their bodies back and forth gently.
"thank you luke," y/n's quiet, "for calming me down, and for finding me."
"like i said, we were all worried about you," luke responded.
y/n pulled away from the hug, "i guess i should go find percy and tell him i'm alive."
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fluloa · 1 year
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WET | jake sully x reader [mini series pt. 1]
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“Again.”
You grunt, arms tired and soar, and you feel like crying. Sometimes— no, all the time, you wished that anyone else was your teacher instead of Jake. Who cares if he was once a human as well? He hasn't been one in years and if you were honest, he's more harsher than the actual natives. You've heard that when he was a younger na'vi, he was a bit of a troublemaker. Which is why you're so confused as to why he always has a stick up his fucking ass with you.
Some of your braids fall in front of your face as you look down, shoulders sinking, "But—"
"No buts," Jake sterns, gripping at your forearm and shoving it upwards to which you whine at, "arms up."
With a whimper, you stretch out the bow, back twinging in pain as the dips of your fingers sting. Jake moves, eyeing you from a different angle before gliding behind you. He surprises you when he wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you flush against him as you yelp out. His grip is hard.
"Your back needs to be straight like this." He teaches, demonstrating your now straightened back that is pushed up against his torso. "Not hunched over like this," he pushes your shoulder forward, setting your back into the position you were before.
The thing was, Jake had a very physical type of communication. Something that annoyed you and gave you a shameful amount of pleasure at the same time.
"Otherwise, the strength in your pullback is weakened." He steps back with a click of his tongue, "thought you already learned that, girl."
That nickname again. God, you didn't know why, but it did something to you. Made something swirl hot in the pit of your stomach. Just the deep husk of his voice brewing out the word—
You blink, a quick shake of your head and a flick of your tail and you can feel his gaze burn into your head.
"What is it?"
You turn to him, analysing the look on his face and it's something that you can't put your finger on. You hope it isn't disappointment. You clear your throat, "what is what?"
His eyebrows crease together into a frown before they raise against his forehead. "You're unfocused. Distracted. Like you've got something on your mind."
"I don't," you say, scratching an itchy place on your arm as you try your best to keep your face plain.
"You do. Spit it out," he demands, folding his arms and you can't help but let your eyes flicker to the thick bulge of them. He catches the motion. His eyebrows raise again, but this time it's for a different reason. He circles you again, but this time, it's for a different reason. "You look flustered," he comments, and you swear you see the slightest hint of a grin on his lips.
"I'm not," you rush, eyes widened and heart picking up a hundred times pace.
Jake stops behind you again, tilting his head as you eye him from the side. The warmth of his breath fans against your neck. "You are." He whispers, his tone low and it sends goosebumps through your body. "What? You need a release?"
He says it so casually that it makes you almost choke on your own spit.
"I don't understand, sir." You feel heat rise to your cheeks, head spinning as you try and contemplate what he had just said.
"Not that much to understand. A release is a release." He shrugs, "Not that hard to give it to you. Just gotta tell me if you want it."
Your body is hot. Like, really hot. You feel like you'll explode in any second, and you're not sure if it's in a good or a bad way. You finally meekly turn your head around to see him staring down at you, his eyes relaxed with his jaw set loose. It's intimidating. He really thinks this is normal. You let your eyes slip, flicking to the sweet curve of his lips and that's when he knows.
He pushes you to the closest tree with his hand gripped at your upper arm, and it’s like you’re entranced to just let him do it. Your back hits the tree, its rough bark spiking your skin. You feel the urge to sink your head down into its trunk when Jake leans over, scooping his fingers under your hair and cupping your neck. He pulls you up, sealing his lips to yours and you’re almost rising on your toes from his grip. His other hand glides to support the side of your thigh, fingers rough as they dig into the plush of your skin and never relax. His lips are smooth, melting against yours when he slips his tongue into your mouth. It’s the opposite of chaste as he molds you with the skilful flick of his tongue, holding the back of your head with a heavy hand and beginning to rub gentle circles with his fingers on your thigh.
It’s enough to have the hot swirl spend in your stomach, enough to have you panting and wanting more. Your hands finally pick up enough courage to place them on his shoulders, not without the jitter of your fingers and you can feel a quiet scoff come from him. Dickhead. He probably thinks this is some kind of game, that you’re just a little piece of entertainment for him to end the day. Your thoughts crumble when he suddenly pushes your thigh up, jutting you against him as he wraps your leg around his waist.
His hand finds your lower stomach, resting there for a moment as his fingers curl against your small pouch. Then, his hand slips down, catches onto the mangy material of your loincloth, and he finally breaks your mouth from his. A string of saliva thins and sticks to the bottom of your lip, your chest rising quickly and your breath uneven.
He wipes it for you with the flat of his thumb, then dips it into his own mouth. You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the heat between your thighs begin to moisture. With his eyes still on you, his fingers dive, picking up the front of your loincloth and flipping it to sit at your thigh. Your connected gaze breaks when his eyes flicker to your lower body, a glimpse of his eyes twitching wide for a second and you feel a wave of embarrassment creep over you.
“Fuck, isn’t that a pretty little sight.” He mutters, then looking at your loin cloth, then back up to you. “Take it off.”
You lay there for a second, heart racing and cheeks warm. He snaps you into action when his head tilts, an action you’ve come to learn as ‘did you not just hear what I said or do I have to make you hear it?’
Finally, the loincloth falls loose, sliding down your hips and onto the ground. Immediately, his thumb is on your clit, circling the bud teasingly and painfully slow. His other hand holds your hip, keeping you comfy in between the tree and himself. He watches you with curious eyes, catching the way your breath hitches and the way your lips fall split.
Two fingers lather down your split, feathering at your folds and experimentally teasing around your entrance. “You always get this wet?” He breathily asks, and you can’t tell if the question is out of proper impressment or just plain teasing. When he doesn’t see you answering, his fingers at your jaw, a lean in with his head. His lips are a centimetre away from yours as he frowns, “I asked you a question.”
You gulp, and a whine breaks from your throat when he presses down onto your clit. “I don’t know…”
He pinches your clit. You jump in his grasp. “Fi—Fine! No.”
He gives a slow kiss to the dip of your neck, flicking at your clit lazily and it makes your thighs fucking tremble. His middle and ring fingers ghost over your pulsing entrance, and you wonder why this man is such a tease. “Tell me you want it,” he mumbles.
His teeth sneak past his lips to nip at your skin, pulling on it gently with his tongue sponging out as well. You knew a hickey was on its way.
“Come on, I want to hear it.” Jake encourages, a hard roll to your clit that has your eyes rolling back with it. He bites down into your neck, a gasp flying from you when you feel his fangs dig into your skin. “Don’t make me force it outta ya,” he warns, the dark edge to his voice dampening his fingers with your running slick.
“Yes, I… I want it,” you whisper. The girth of his two middle fingers slip into your cunt smooth and you can’t help but groan. You stretch out and around him, and a small smile twitches across Jake’s face.
He whistles low and quiet, “Look at the way you suck me in,” he almost says to himself, eyeing the way his blue fingers dissolve into you. He starts moving them in and out gently, to which you gasp loud at. A quiet, taunting laugh is heard from above you. “That’s right.”
His fingers are long and thick, and you can feel the many callouses imprinted on them as they drag along your walls. The moment of gentle is gone when Jake picks up the pace, digging his thumb into your clit. Your back arches, hands digging into his shoulders before falling to the muscle of his arms.
The speed becomes into a ferocious one. It’s rough and unforgiving, like he’s trying to reach deep inside of you and pull something out. The hand on your hip shifts, to speed past your top and press down hard onto your right boob. He squeezes it, rolling the nipple in between the gap of his two fingers. Your breathing gets stuck inside your throat as you choke out a whimper. “Jake—“
“Quit whining.” Jake snaps, then a quick pinch to your nipple. “Take it.”
His fingers curl inside of you, make your body jolt and a hot lick of fire whip through your belly. His palm replaces his thumb on your clit, the length of his fingers jammed full into your cunt as the tough layer of skin of his palm rubs against it. Your hips jerk against him, the grip on his arms tight like if you let go, you'll die.
You let out a tiny moan, and Jake grips at your jaw again, his finger playing at the bottom of your lip before pulling it open, having your mouth in an O shape. "Don't hold back on those noises now, girl."
The band in your stomach tightens, a hard pull to your body and your head slumps against the tree. You can feel its tiny flecks of wood dig into your scalp, but you don't care because all you can focus on is Jake's fingers, moving in and out of you in such a pace, you could catch fire. Now you understand what he's trying to pull out of you, and it's not in a nice way. The release. Like once he gets his hands on it, he'll rip it out.
And he does. You feel your vision fall blurry when your orgasm, the release, crashes through you, rocking your body hard. You cry out, voice cracking into pieces. His fingers keep working up into you, helping you through your high as you regain sensibility. Everything is silent, except for your ragged breathing. You finally blink up at him. He blinks down at you. He pulls his fingers leisurely out of you, the cool of the night's air hitting your bare cunt. He looks down at his soaked fingers before dipping them into his mouth, tongue flatting against them and sucking them clean. You can't read his face.
He puts you back down onto the ground, your knees wobbly and you'd fall over if it weren't for the tree pressed up against your back at the moment. Jake's eyebrows raise slightly.
"Better?" He asks, and before you can respond he's walking away, the leaves underneath his feet making a crushing noise. You're left with only your timid breath, as your loincloth lays messy around your toes.
here’s part two bc yall were THIRSTY. ur welcome alien fuckers💙
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lazywriters-blog · 4 months
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QUIET + QUIET = NAUGHTY
YANDERE ALHAITHAM
Summary: Alhaitham used to be your mentor, and after leaving him behind and pursuing another career, he finds a way to bind you to him. [This was sitting in my drafts for so long that I decided to just publish it so if it's bad, my bad lol.]
Warning: This may contain triggering content, read at your discretion. Implied rape, forced pregnancy, and manipulation. Alhaitham is a piece of shit in this-
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You had a dream that didn't feel like one.
Your mind is clear and you remember something was amiss the night you fell asleep, so you are certain whatever glimpse you recall was truthful. You could never imagine yourself having a wet dream about someone you disapproved of.
Despite the man's appearance attracting you to him, there's just something about him you don't like. Perhaps sitting here and watching him read his book made you a crazed fangirl, but you were a decent human being with decent expectations.
And alhaitham was one exception you'd avoid till the end, even with the tolerance level you had, he went past above and beyond that.
Seeing him so far away from you felt odd, having a realistic dream was different but feeling it and knowing you felt it was different! You couldn't make up such fantasies even if you wanted to. You did not invite him into your dreamland and never would, he's the type of man with stoic feelings and selfishness with good reasons for it.
You also had a hate-love relationship with the scribe, he's an asshole who nagged you to do everything perfectly when you were in front of him and made you feel unqualified. You'd admit you weren't good, but the humiliation was taking it a bit too far when he'd speak loud and clear for everyone to hear and think about it.
You aren't a failed test subject to show.
Nonetheless, you had forgotten about it and moved on to a better place in life, so his abrupt existence was cutting it too close.
But, trying to talk to him just seemed wrong. Comforting him seemed childish, and unnecessary when you could live on with the fact you had a wet dream about him, but past that, he's close to an enemy to you.
He closed his book and settled it on the table, folding his arms and glancing straight toward you, so he knew you were here. Copying his position you glared, feeling something nasty within you grow and you had no shame in expressing that to the man.
Grinning wide, you tilted your head and quietly mouthed 'Fuck you.' briefly pulling up your hand and pointing a middle finger, throwing him one last look you got up and walked away.
If that incident earned you a bad reputation, you knew exactly who was behind it.
The next sign you discovered that your dream wasn't as fake as you made it out to be, was when you woke up nauseous and threw up, you figured it was a mash of bad food combination that made you queasy.
And denial was hard, how were you going to explain it even if it was true? 'I think it has something to do with the wet dream I had with my enemy and I think I'm pregnant?' just thinking about it you feel delusional you couldn't fathom how crazy you would sound to the others, you weren't lost in the head.
You had your toes on solid ground and weren't making stuff up on thin air, nor because you were living alone and thinking having a new member would cure it.
You'd never be that desperate.
"You are showing clear symptoms of pregnancy." He's saying it and you don't like the tone of his voice, he's saying it to get revenge for your past interaction, you are sure.
"Your skin is glowing, and the bump you are trying to hide isn't doing much," he added, like salt to a wound. You forced a smile, thinking to yourself that staying indoors today would have been so much better than facing him in all his selfish glory.
"And would you happen to know who did it?" You sniped back, "How do you even know that I've gotten fat unless you've been watching me, pervert, learn to lower your eyes."
"It shouldn't take a genius to know that a woman is carrying a child. It's a blessing you're hiding."
"You're saying it as if it's your child." she would know after years of suffering under him, that he would make her the fool and him the trustworthy one, and she didn't want to give him a chance. So if he wants to play dumb, she'll cut him open.
He chuckled, a rare gesture from him she saw only once, "Should we have a paternity test?" why did he sound so smug and certain?
"Is this your indirect way of saying that I'm crazy? That you impregnated me?" he stayed quiet and satisfied, all the trouble he was causing her and the damage it would bring to her reputation was unnerving, he was doing it on purpose. She was sure!!
"You are a monster." She could strangle him right now if they weren't in public.
He smiled, not breaking eye contact and continuing to maintain it. "Who would believe you?"
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leviscolwill · 9 months
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ballroom extravaganza
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pairing: jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader
summary: you always hated arguing with jude, but even more so when you're about to race monaco's streets (wc: 1,7k)
req: jude bellingham x f1 related f!reader ! (driver if u can or js a driver’s relative) where they argue before a match/race that doesn’t go really well + she crashes/dnf or he gets rlly hurt in a match
contents: jude is jealous, reader drives for mclaren w lando (sorry oscar my beloved </3), possible racing inconstancies (i can't drive to save my life), reader crashes (nothing too bad happens tho), gasly slander sorryyyy, language ??, quite angsty but happy (&fluffy) ending i swear
note: i didn't want to make either jude or reader 'the bad guy™' so i hope i didn't side with one more than the other writing the argument part :| i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you enjoy reading it (lmk by rb and giving feedback !!). finally, thank you for requesting anon,, i hope you like it 🫶
now playing: ballroom extravaganza by dpr ian (moodswings in to order)
"i'm just saying, i don't like the way he looked at you when he said that"
"you're being ridiculous jude, he's my teammate and i've known him for years."
jude had always been the jealous type, and you never had any problem with this, until now. he tried to tell you how lando was flirting with you when that's really just how he communicated. sure, he was kinda flirty at times, but he knew you were in a relationship and never crossed any lines with you. but jealousy seemed to get the best of your boyfriend in that moment.
"that's not the point y/n, i'm a man and i know what he meant when he said he'll take you to this 'perfect seaside italian restaurant if your boyfriend won't'. and you just stood there laughing." his voice was louder now, and you hated it whenever jude screamed, especially when those screams were directed at you.
"you're delusional... he didn't imply anything with that, he was only joking." you tried to reason your boyfriend.
"i still don't like it, i'm not asking you to never talk to him again, just make it clear you're-"
"but he knows that jude! i talk about you all the time, let's be serious for a second, come on." you laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation you were in, 45 minutes before the monaco grand prix fighting with your boyfriend in your driver room, it was probably the last thing you should be doing on a track where your focus was the most important thing.
you were always grateful whenever jude made time to see you racing because you knew how packed his schedule was. but right now, he was the last person you needed to see given the circumstances.
"jude, please just leave, i'm sick of fighting."
"i'm not leaving, we're having this conversation whether you like it or not." he said in a calmer tone, but it was too late, the damage was done.
"well, you're in my room right now and i want you out. i need to focus and you're not exactly helping right now."
"but we need to talk it out, i don't want you to go while we're fighting." you would have sworn his voice broke a bit when he ended his sentence.
"maybe you shouldn't have picked a fight with me then! maybe you shouldn't be here at all actually..." you practically whisper the last part and you immediately regret the words that came out of your mouth, knowing well you didn't mean them.
"okay then..." jude quickly gets up and you can't help but look at your feet, you can almost feel the sad look on his face.
"i love you."
you wanted to say it back but he closed the door with a loud bang before you could mutter any sound.
the only thing jude left behind was the faint smell of his cologne for you to think about what just happened and not focus on your race at all.
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deep breaths. deep breaths were what you needed, you tried to shift your focus on your start, how you needed to get away from sainz, given how close he was to you. whenever your mind drifted off to the argument you had with jude, you found another thing to focus on before the race. the formation lap would start in a couple minutes, your focus needed to be on monaco's streets for at least an hour and a half, then you'll handle the rest later with jude, you always did.
the formation lap started and everything went perfectly well, you just had to wait for the red lights to turn off and you'll be gone, no more thinking, or overthinking.
"it's lights out and away we go in the streets of monaco."
perfect start, now you just had to race like you knew how to for 78 laps. nothing you couldn't do.
the first 46 laps went perfectly, you managed to overtake carlos' ferrari and pierre's alpine. everything went well, then you thought about jude, you knew he was probably still mad at you but you still hoped he was watching the race, waiting for you with papaya-coloured headphones. as your thoughts kept going you were about to get to the trickiest part of the circuit, mirabeau.
as your focus shifted back to your race, you forgot the most important thing, the biggest danger on track is the other drivers.
your brain barely had time to register the bright blue alpine trying to overtake you when there was clearly no space. next thing you knew, your head hit the cockpit. before you hit the wall at god knows what speed, you thought about how you didn't tell jude you loved him back, and how you hoped he was still aware of how much he meant to you in that moment.
pitch black, no sound at all, you couldn't feel anything for about thirty seconds because of the shock.
then everything came back. you felt the urge to move your legs around, they moved. perfect. then you felt like your position was unusual, you came to a conclusion on your own, your car was on its side. you didn't even get to think about getting out because you felt a horrible pain in your head, where it was hit you assumed.
and lastly, you saw the medics making sure you were okay, you moved your hand for them to understand the message. you were okay, they helped you out of the car, saying you would be taken to the infirmary.
you couldn't stop smiling, you felt terrible about the race and it was probably the biggest crash you ever experienced but everything was well, your family and friends saw you get out of the car safely, and you'd be able to tell jude you loved him. everything was well.
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you had to answer the medics questions that made you feel like a 4-year-old: "what's your name ? do you know which day of the week it is ?" you knew it was for safety reasons but you absolutely hated it.
jude opened the door in pure jude fashion, loudly. you almost stopped waiting for him at that point but he was here finally.
he didn't even talk to you, words weren't needed. he just held you really tight even though you were still on the, very uncomfortable, infirmary bed. you felt his arms that were holding onto you shake as he kissed your hair.
"you have no idea how fucking terrified i was y/n." while jude had been to a fair few races with you, he'd never seen any big crashes, let alone involving you. yes, you could only imagine how scary that must have been for him, feeling powerless over the situation, you knew it all too well. you felt that way when jude was injured and you were absolutely helpless, of course you never wished for your boyfriend to ever feel that way, but here you were.
"i love you." you felt like it was the first thing you should say right now. "so so so much. i'm sorry for not saying it earlier." jude looked at you as tears started to form in your eyes, he quickly wiped them away and kissed away the sudden wave of sadness surging through you.
"and i'm sorry for getting mad at you, i shouldn't even have told you about it before the race, it was-"
jude was cut short when someone knocked and opened the door quickly after. pierre came in with a sorry look on his face, you heard he dnf after he damaged his car. poor thing.
"y/n, are you okay? i'm sorry about-" he started rambling with a french accent.
"i'm fine don't worry, just... can we talk about it later? you can come to our motorhome, they make great coffee there i swear." you tried to joke to lighten up the atmosphere, but it was still as tense as before.
if looks could kill, gasly would have died right here the way your boyfriend eyed him in silence, his gaze following the driver on his way out.
"what a fucking dickhead. how is he driving a whole f1 car? even i would do a better job than him i swear..." your boyfriend's pettiness amused you, even more so knowing that boy couldn't ride a bike without scaring the life out of you.
his features visibly changed and you knew he wanted to talk your argument out, as you were both calmer about the situation. but he didn't get the chance to speak a word before lando opened the door.
"what did that french hooligan do to my favourite teammate? that was a barbarian try at overtaking really." you laughed at your teammate being dramatic, as always.
"i'm fine, i think gasly needs prescription glasses though, i don't know where he saw the space there but i'm okay."
once again, you felt jude's eyes burning holes in lando's skull as he went silent, he quickly took the hint and left.
you couldn't help but burst out laughing at jude when it was just you two in the room.
"you need to stop glaring at people like that."
"i just don't like him." you took his hand as he looked at you, his look much softer than the one he gave pierre and lando.
"i only want you. alright? it doesn't matter how lando views me, whether what you think is true. he will never be you." you told him stroking your thumb on the back of his hand.
"i know that, i was just mad at how he acted with you. i'm sorry about that. i trust you, 100%. i just don't like how comfortable he was making these comments y'know."
"i get that, i'll make my boundaries clear with him, okay? let's not fight over silly things like that anymore."
jude softly grabbed your jaw and kissed you, you could tell you both needed this talk, and this kiss, to clear the air.
you pull out of the kiss first, suddenly feeling the urge to annoy him.
"you know... you look good when you're jealous, i might try that more often..." jude faked a serious face.
"if attention was what you wanted, you just had to ask love." he joked as you playfully hit his arm.
"just no more leaving without saying 'i love you' alright?" he asks before quickly kissing your forehead.
"never again."
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up until recently i ran a pretty popular radfem blog (stay with me, this ask is in good faith) but after i took a social media detox, i realized i don’t share those beliefs anymore and in fact i might be trans myself. i just kind of abandoned the blog, but i’d feel bad if i didn’t tell my followers what happened. i’m scared of telling anyone because i feel like i’d be a bad feminist if i transitioned. (i know, you can be trans and a feminist just fine, but that’s just the kind of thing radfems tell you.) even worse, i’m scared of posting about it on my main or radfem blog because radfems and trans people by and large hate each other (obv), and i’m scared to mention i’ve been in both groups because of the hate i’ll get
Lee says:
When I first started as a mod, I would have told you that you need to immediately post on all your blogs to disown the transphobic beliefs you had previously expressed to try to make up for the harm that you may have perpetrated as a radfem.
Now that I'm a little older, my feelings on the topic have shifted a bit. Before anything else, I think you need to slow down and make sure that you ensure your own safety and mental health.
If you believe that revealing this change to your followers could result in backlash online that would affect you emotionally, it's crucial to prepare by turning off anonymous asks and muting notifications from social media apps.
You should also make sure you have a non-online place to turn for support. If they used to be your community, you may feel like you've lost online friends, so make sure you don't become too isolated. Instead, lean on your IRL connections and seek support from trans-friendly people in your community.
You may even want to consider looking for a therapist-- questioning being trans can be difficult for anyone, and adding a layer of internalized transphobia doesn't help.
When you're ready to share your feelings on your blog, you should write a thoughtful post explaining your journey. You don't have to justify your identity; rather, focus on your personal growth, how your views have evolved, and how you came to understand yourself better. Acknowledge the complexity of the situation and that you're still learning.
These people were once your buddies and there's a chance you may be able to make some of them question their beliefs too if you don't lash out at them and trigger that instinctual defensive us-versus-them mindset, so I would try to keep a friendly tone even while noting that you no longer support them.
So thank your followers for their support and engagement over the years, but tell them you aren't comfortable staying part of their community now that you've realized that the beliefs underpinning the group are doing damage and you are trying to unlearn that type of thinking.
Gently challenge any misconceptions you once held or promoted. Clarify that being trans and feminist are not mutually exclusive and that everyone deserves respect and equality, regardless of their gender identity.
If you're comfortable, share resources that helped you on your journey. This could be educational materials, support groups, books you found helpful, or contact information for trans-supportive LGBTQ+ organizations. If there's anything you'd recommend to others who were once in the same place as you were on getting out, this is the time to share your advice.
Understand that reactions will likely be mixed. Some followers may feel confused, betrayed, or angry, while others might be supportive or even share their similar experiences. Remember, you're not responsible for their reactions and you don't need to respond to them if you don't want to argue and they aren't willing to have a respectful conversation.
Be clear about your boundaries. Let your followers know what kind of comments you're willing to engage with and that hate or harassment won't be tolerated. You can even stop engaging with the account altogether if you don't think you can deal with the hate that you may receive.
You don't have to post about this immediately. Again, it's okay to take as much time as you need to feel ready. It's okay to wait until you're in a safe and stable position before making any announcements.
If you do post about it and get hate, remind yourself that you're doing the right thing by letting go of that community, and that you're not only making the right choice for your own life in allowing yourself the freedom to explore your gender identity but you're also doing the right thing overall since you're now standing up for the trans community (late is better than never!) and no longer encouraging transphobic narratives.
If you feel that your current blog is no longer a space where you can express yourself authentically, consider starting a new blog or platform where you can write freely about your experiences and beliefs. Or just get offline altogether-- your digital detox is what started this, so maybe it's healthy for you to continue it for a while!
If you tell someone "I support trans folks" and they send you hate, that person is not your friend anyway. This is an opportunity to meet nice people who you can be yourself with. I would really encourage you to connect with IRL activists who are actually regularly volunteering and doing something concrete for their community if you have the opportunity.
When I was in high school, I volunteered at my local library's teen advisory board, and when I was in college I volunteered at a local hospital and through my college. This weekend I'm starting training for volunteering in-person for my town's emergency preparedness group which also does things like help to unload trucks for the food pantry, and I also volunteer remotely for two organizations online.
I'm really pushing for you to get out and volunteer (online or IRL) because I know one draw of the radfem community is feeling like you're an activist and that you're supporting women's rights and protecting and defending women. And it is important to support women's rights and protect and defend women! But there are other ways to do that beyond running a hateful blog attacking trans women.
I have a friend who works at an organization for survivors of domestic violence, for example, and she works with volunteers who help staff events, answer the hotline, etc. You can look around and see what local initiatives there are in your community and if you can't find the thing you're looking for you can start a group yourself or look online and join a national or state-wide cause that you care about, like pushing the legislature to support access to abortions.
Giving up the radfem community doesn't mean giving up feminism, and this is a good opportunity for you to take a look at your own time, your values, and think about how you can take this chance to start working to be a more effective feminist. Not everyone has to be an activist, but if you want to be one, think about how you can start doing good in a way that will actually affect people in a positive way.
I've also often been involved in doing events like conferences and workshops and panels IRL from my time in high school to the present day to try and educate folks on the community, but I also know that sometimes you need to take a step back and prioritize yourself. If you think you're not ready to jump into making change that's also okay. Just join something. A soccer team, a book club, anything hobby-related, to have something else to do and talk about and think about and stay tethered to feeling part of something.
Remember, it's okay to grow and change. You're not betraying anyone by being true to yourself. It's a courageous step to admit when your views have changed, and it's an integral part of personal growth. Be kind to yourself during this process.
Whether or not you end up identify as trans, you still will be doing the right thing by separating yourself from that community. I know it may be difficult because they were a place where you felt supported and part of a movement, but I really believe that you're taking steps in the right direction by letting go of that ideology and just living your life!
Followers, if you have any experiences unlearning toxic beliefs please reply with your advice for anon!
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luveline · 2 years
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𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary it's a hot summer in hawkins and you're bored. plus, your best friend eddie is very distracting. it was inevitable, really, that you'd end up messing around [4.6k]
warnings smut, 18+ only please, fem!reader, p in v sex, oral both receiving, awkward giggly best friend sex <3, fluff, clueless idiots, weird stains etc, eddie being hot and soft, less awkward more giggly part 2
𓆩❤︎𓆪
The midsummer sun toasts the back of your neck as you walk through the trailer park. By the time you're knocking at Eddie's door you feel frazzled by the heat, ducking under his arm and into the shade gratefully when he swings open the door.
"Hey, babe," your best friend says, a hint of derision in his tone.
"Yeah, hi," you say.
You beeline past the couch to the fridge, kicking open the stiff freezer door for something cold to hold to your cheek. "It's, like, a thousand degrees outside," you say, garden peas soothing your sweaty forehead.
"It wasn't much better in here 'til I opened all the windows," he agrees. "If you told me you were coming I would've picked you up."
You raise your eyebrows, laughing. "Yeah, I'm never getting in that thing again."
"It wasn't that bad."
"You almost killed us-"
"I jumped a curb," he cuts you off, waving his hand at you. "You're ridiculous."
Eddie rolls his eyes at you and you roll yours harder, following him down the narrow space into his bedroom. Even the window thrown open can't hide the smell of pot and cheap beer, though you're pleased to see he's changed his sheets. You sit down carefully, worried to disturb the notebook on his bed.
"What were you upto?" you ask, lying back.
Eddie stretches. One arm behind his back and the other pushing his elbow down, a loud click echos. His shirt rides up, a snaking snail trail of dark hair exposed.
You don't shy from looking though you won't ogle him. Your best friend has always been hot in the grungey way he is, long hair and big eyes, cool clothes, tattoos and Marlboro's and everything that had ostracised him from your peers.
You'd ended up friends because you hadn't always been attractive. In fact, you'd suffered through an awkward stage for the entirety of high school, and only now two years after your graduation do you feel any type of hot or desirable. Eddie, soft-hearted, loser weirdo Eddie has never been anything but ridiculously kind to you.
You pull up your jeans where they're slipping down, tugging your shirt from your lightly perspiring chest with a dramatic huff to fan yourself.
"I was trying to make music," he says with usual bravado, throwing himself down behind the composition book. He tucks the pen between its curling pages and shoves it across the nightstand. "But it wasn't going anywhere."
"No?" you ask, moaning under your breath as you move the frozen peas to your chest.
Eddie clears his throat. "Nah. Now you're here, anyway. Like you knew I was bored to tears."
"I'm psychic," you agree.
"Major. Summer is so fucking boring," he says.
You smile at him, turning on your cheek to take in his casual attire, his grey sweatpants and his too short shirt. He's missing his rings but his chains remain, dull silver against his white skin.
"You could study," you say lightly. "You know. Actually graduate."
Eddie smiles at you sweetly. You glare at his condescension. "They're making me do the year again, therfore making me take the classes again. I don't need to study."
You want to laugh. He does need to study, he does, but you know the difficulty doesn't lie in laziness or anything, he just has a difficult time concentrating. Every year you offer to informally tutor him and every year he declines, but not this year. You're gonna get him through high school if it's the last thing you do. And it might be, with this heat.
"We are gonna study," you say sternly. "Not today, though."
"Not today," he agrees, laughing.
He crosses his arms, hands hugging his biceps as he leans towards you. You watch his actions carefully though he's not planning any mischief, only looking down at you.
"Your eyes are all smudged up," he says.
You sigh with frustration and loll your head back. "It's 'cos it's so hot. I'm gonna freshen up," you say, standing, offering him your defrosting bag of peas.
He's not looking at the peas, you realise, but your chest. You follow his gaze, watching as a cold rivulet of melted ice runs between the valley of your boobs.
You don't comment on his watching as you leave the room. You don't really care if he looks at you like that because you know he doesn't mean anything disrespectful by it, the way your eyes tend to drift to his hands, his wrists and their stark green veins. Some things are distracting.
You clean up in the bathroom, your face, your sweaty body, sniffling from the heat. You can't stay in there long.
"It's a fucking sauna in there," you say as you emerge.
Eddie has changed positions, his legs crossed with a pillow in his lap, the stereo remote in his hands. His bracelet has fallen down from his wrist, stopped at the curve of his forearm.
You look away. Distracting, you think.
He gestures at the window, wide open, curtains blowing in the breeze. "That's how hot it was when I woke up."
You settle down next to him against the wall, box springs groaning beneath you. This close you can smell his green apple shampoo.
"You're not wearing any cologne?" you ask.
He smiles smugly. "You're sniffing me."
"You smell like shampoo," you say instead of denying it.
"Showered this morning."
You gasp and cover your mouth with your hand. "No fucking way."
"Get fucked, Y/N," he says, chuckling.
Maybe it's on your mind. Maybe it's the sheer level of comfort you feel with him, you don't know, but you fall silent at his words and drop your head into his shoulder. You spend long minutes at his side, listening to his humming, wondering what you're going to do all summer. You make a questioning sound.
He pulls it out from under you and only puts it back when you don't laugh. "What?"
You look up at him and then quickly look back down.
"What does that look mean?"
You don't decide what you're going to say so much as you feel it, the words escaping you before you can think any better of it. "Do you want to have sex?"
Eddie laughs, a nervous lilt of sound that bubbles up and hurts your feelings. You pick at your nails and he leaps to ask, "What? You're serious?"
"It's fine if you don't want to."
He waits for you to say more. When you don't, he raises his eyebrows at you. "I never said that."
You decide to be cool about it, shrugging your shoulders like this is an obvious, regular suggestion. "We're both bored. I don't know. It could be fun."
"Are you sure that's something you want?"
"You're hot."
"Thank you," he says sincerely, "but what I mean is, is that something you think we can deal with? It changes our whole dynamic." His words have that similar too-casual tone, the both of you trying to be cool.
"Doesn't have to," you argue with little heat, looking up at him from his shoulder with wide eyes.
"You don't think so?" he asks. His voice is quieter now, and he's looking down at you with a heat that quickly gives you butterflies.
"No," you say under your breath. You lick your lips and say, slightly louder, "No. It can just be fun. If it sucks we'll never do it again, and you can stop wondering what my tits look like."
"I don't wonder about that," he denies quickly, guiltily, giving himself away when his eyes flick down to your chest and dart straight back up.
"So you don't want to find out?"
He bites his lip. You wait, tilting your head just slightly and giving him your best approximation of the doe eyes girls do in movies. "It's fine if you don't want to, Eddie," you say honestly.
"I do want to."
"Yeah?"
"If it's just for fun, right? What else is there to do?" He asks, shrugging his shoulders.
You grin. This is how you find yourself kneeling in the middle of his bed as Eddie pulls the curtains closed and locks his door, your eyes following the dark mess of his curls as he tucks them behind his ears, the way his arms shift as he turns the light off now the sunlight's hidden. He pauses before he turns to you, hand held to the light switch.
You start to take your shirt off. He hears the noise and spins on his heel. Warm, worn shirt in hand, you try not to show how nervous you are as your chest settles, bared in your bra alone.
Eddie blinks. You laugh nervously and he laughs back, wavering at the end of his bed.
"You're fucking pretty," he says.
"Don't lie," you say, though you know he feels like that's true, an earnestness in his voice that shoots sparks straight down to your core. You move off of your calves and squirm onto your back. "Help me take these off," you say. Before I lose my nerve.
Eddie pulls your legs towards him with surprising strength, knocking your hands away from where they're struggling with the button on your jeans. You can't help the sound you make, a hiccup of air has he undoes the button. His fingers are warm at your waist and as they drag down your hips. You arch your back so he can work them over your thighs, one socked foot pressed to his chest. You give him a smug look, as if to say, yeah, you do that.
Ever amused with you he huffs a laugh and pulls your jeans off in one big sweep, discarding them in a  crumpled heap on the ground.
You're surprised at the lack of talking between you and aim to rectify it as he climbs onto the mattress and crawls up between your legs like he knows what he's doing, pulling your thighs over his.
"This is so weird," you say. "Right? This is weird."
His hands burn where they're spread over your thighs. "It's not that weird. Do you not want to anymore? We can stop."
"No, I mean. I don't know. Maybe it's 'cos you're still dressed."
"If you want me to take my clothes off, babe, you can just ask," he drawls, smirking.
You hold your breath as he pulls his shirt over his back, exposing the smooth expanse of his chest broken up by a small crop of dark hair that leads down past his naval and disappears into his sweatpants.
His chain bobs between you as he moves to hover on top of you, a great deal of space between your chests.
"Are we kissing?" he asks.
"Do you want to kiss me?" you ask him. He doesn't answer so you shake your head. "Maybe we shouldn't. It's romantic."
He laughs in a way you don't fully understand, his hands suddenly on your waist and pushing up over your ribs to the edge of your bra, a thin silken thing that contrasts your skin nicely. Your nipples are hard, peaking through the fabric. You can't find it in yourself to be embarrassed as he brings his hand up.
"Is this okay?" he asks.
"Yeah," you say, waiting, your body aflame in anticipation of his touch.
He brushes the pad of his thumb over your nipple and grins when you hiss in a breath, pulling back so he can see the entirety of your chest as he takes your breasts into his big palms and massages them gently.
"Pretty underwear," he says.
"Thank you," you say, feeling small under his gaze and his ministrations.
Eddie's eyes meet yours, burned honey brown. "Is the kissing rule extended to everywhere, or just lips?"
"Do what you want, Eds."
He does. He kisses the curve of your breast and you start to feel dizzy as his teeth appear, scratching over your skin lightly. He tugs the cup down and kisses a trail to your nipple, taking the bead of it into his mouth. You push the hair from his eyes and gasp at the sensation, a riveting strike of pleasure that warms you up from the inside out.
Eddie pulls away just as quickly and mouths kisses around the damp circle, plastering pecks over the small embeddings of his teeth.
His hands work under your back and fiddle with the clasp of your bra. You hold in a comment about his clumsy fingering though you giggle to yourself.
"What's funny?" he asks in a murmur, dropping your bra unceremoniously off the side of the bed.
"Nuthin'," you sing-song.
He doesn't believe you, hands pressing over the naked expanse of your chest with a firm pressure, messing with your boobs as he goes. He covers them with two hands and brings them together.
"Having fun?"
"Always with you," he says, saccharine sweet.
His teasing sarcasm is familiar and puts you at ease, wiggling down into his squishy bedsheets with a curious look on your face.
He gets bored pretty quickly, sitting up, hands fast as he slips his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and makes to pull them off. You throw your hand out and he stops.
"Maybe I can leave them on?" you ask.
He purses his lips, looking disappointed but accepting. "Sure, if you want to stop."
"No, I don't. Just. I don't know," you refuse to say you're shy about how you look. "Can't you just pull them to the side?"
"Sure. I don't care if you haven't shaved or anything, if that's what you're worried about."
More the general idea of your cunt on display. It feels nerve-racking. "Thanks."
He softens. "Baby, don't say thanks. We said for fun, right? Doesn't matter how we do it. I want you to enjoy yourself." He sees your knowing smile and amends, "I want for both of us to enjoy it. Keep the underwear. I can take mine off though, right?"
You grin at his cheeky tone. "Go for it, hotshot."
He turns the music up before he does, which is really the last straw. How loud does he think it's going to get? Your heart beats in your chest, fast as a mouse's as he pulls down his sweatpants and exposes his boxers.
You can see the shape of him already through the fabric.
He palms his cock and reaches for your chest, massaging one of your boobs as he does. You're sick of being touched without touching, struggling up into a sitting position. "Can I…?"
He nods, looking about as nervous as you'd felt when he pulled down your bra.
Your hand trembles imperceptibly as you take his cock into your hands, stroking its length through material. You're giggling as you do, the situation alien and tummy churning. He's both harder and softer than you expected, though you feel a certain rigidness begin to grow at your touch.
You shuffle backwards and bend at the waist, careful and gentle as you pull down his boxers. His cock springs free, crowned in a trim patch of dark, curled hair, going to kiss his shaft when Eddie pushes your shoulder.
"You don't have to," he says.
You frown quizzically. "I want to. This is half the fun, right?"
He looks a little dazed as you move in, his hand moving from your shoulder to your neck as you kiss the side of his length. He twitches in your hold.
You spit into your hand and it's embarrassing. You expect Eddie to laugh and he doesn't, something unreadable on his face when you look up. His lip between his teeth, his brows furrowed, he looks handsome and dark. You pump his cock, kissing at the shaft as you go, happy when his breathing hikes and his hands find your hair. Heat grows between your legs, the very beginning of wetness.
Eddie doesn't let you play for very long. "Fuck, maybe you shouldn't. Uh. I don't think I'll last," he adds.
You plant a last kiss to the side of his head and pull away. "Sorry."
"God, don't be," he says. You've never heard him like this. So rough.
"How do we do this? Do I just…?" you flop down on your back, smiling with teeth, nervous and embarrassed and excited, super excited.
"If that's how you like it."
Awkwardness disarmed by wanting, Eddie moves into the gap between your legs and spreads them, the flat of his palm against your cunt without any dithering. "Are you ready?"
"I don't know."
"Want me to play with you?" he asks.
You feel conflicted.
He holds his cock against the stretch of his midriff and shakes his head at you. "It's okay, princess."
Princess. "Maybe you can… can play with me as you go," you suggest hopefully, coquettish.
He rubs his thumb over the bump of your clit, peering down at your covered cunt almost assessingly. His thumb dips, fingers pulling cautiously at damp fabric until you're on show.
"Fuck," he says. "Fuck, can I touch you?" And he's already touching you but to be asked is nice, and when you nod he rubs the wet circle of your entrance with two fingertips, spreading that little bit of wetness around.
He begins to push in. Your eyes flick from his actions to his face, chest heaving as he mouths, "Fuck," and palms at his throbbing cock. "You're warm."
You flush from head to toe and squirm as he works you open, spreading and curling his digits inside you, working slickness out. You're tight with nerves but slowly, slowly relaxing.
"Can we fuck now?" you ask. You're rushing through the steps because you're nervous and Eddie can't seem to decide whether he should let you, conflict clear as day in the way he presses his lips together.
"I have lube," he says, too loud.
You choke on a laugh. "You do?"
"Yeah, just," he scrambles off of the bed and pulls a tube of gel from his bedside table. And of course he fucking does, Eddie's the same motherfucker who nails handcuffs to the wall. "You wanna try it?"
He's pulled out a condom at the same time.
"Yeah," you say, smiling enough to make your cheeks ache. Eddie's answering grin is brilliant.
He rips the condom open with his teeth and you watch as he rolls it on, enchanted, breathing shallow.
His hands rub at your thighs as he spreads your half-hidden cunt open.
"I'll go slow," he says.
You nod. He squeezes a very generous amount of lube over his cock and then thinks twice, spreading it with his fingers around the shaft and then over your entrance. It contracts with the cold. Eddie groans with his lips slammed shut and moves in closer, rubbing the head of his cock up your cunt. The first contact is overwhelming.
You reach for his forearm and grip hard.
"Okay?" he asks, pausing.
"It's a mess, right? Do you have a towel or something?"
He seems endeared by your worrying, grabbing your ankles in one hand and lifting your hips from the bed to shove his discarded shirt under your weeping slit. You feel your vision go rose coloured at his small display of strength, worse when he takes a hold of your ankles in sticky fingers and encourages them over his shoulders.
He bends over you, his chain dangling between you.
The head of his cock bumps into your entrance. He readjusts, pushing with minimal pressure. Your ass pressed to his hot thighs, your ankles to his hard shoulders, your hands searching for something to hold. Eddie twines your fingers and holds your joined hands to your hip.
"You're so fucking hot," he says, grinning saliciously. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? Ready?"
His enthusiasm is catching, a grin turning up the corners of your lips as he presses in. He stretches you out slowly, fingers flexing around your hand and the other holding you in place as he takes shallow, quick thrusts.
Lube in play, your nerves are hardly a problem and soon the only feelings are pleasure, the dizzying, goosebump-prompting feeling of being split open around him and the warmth of being this close to him clouding you up. You're surprised at how much you want to make sounds, your fast inhales slowly turning to mewling moans. Eddie makes less noise but his enjoyment is obvious, an amorous screwing to his brows and lips.
"Fuck," he groans, the word dragging with his cock, head probing emphatically at your walls.
You gasp as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush with your cunt. "Fuck," he says again. "Baby, your pussy's s'fucking tight. How's that feel? Feel good?" Then, at your shy smile, "Yeah?"
"Yeah, Eds."
Your thighs burn as he pushes in. Attentive at your clit, Eddie works you into a steady tizzy, thrusting slow and deep and moulding, looking prettier than he has any right to look as he pushes tight circles into your swollen clit.
You can't help flashing between two minds. Oh my god, I'm fucking Eddie. And oh my god, I'm fucking Eddie. Lovely, handsome, ridiculous Eddie, best friend since middle school and fellow long-term loser, nicest boy you've ever met, and why do his eyes look so big? He's so close the tops of your thighs are brushing your abdomen. You can smell that green apple tang under sex, his skin. His chain tickles you as he closes in and you think he's going to kiss you, really truly kiss you, but his face ducks down, his nose and lips on your neck.
Anywhere but the lips, you'd agreed, and now he's kissing your neck. Scraping bites and loving, sloven mouthing. A spread of damp half moons over the column of your throat, working his way up to the sweet spot below your ear.
His hips snap into yours harder than they had been and you whimper.
"Again," you demand, arms wrapped around the cape of his back, his shoulder blades moving under your hands.
"Whatever you want, princess," he promises, the pet name bathed in ire.
Snapping again, hips rolling, pleasure made all the worse by his panting into your skin and his kisses, though they grow sparse as time stretches. You feel his hips begin to flag, his fucking sloppy. The circles on your clit become loose.
"Eddie," you whisper. His pelvis is grinding hard into yours, an aching painful pleasure as he works empathically into your spongey walls.
"How's that feel? Fucking full of me, aren't you?" he asks.
"Feels good, it-" you gasp as he pulls out and strikes in, the head of his cock going deep. You feel a rush of heat behind your eyes almost close to tears as he finds somewhere you didn't know he could find.
"What was that?" he asks, laughing, teasing. "Did you hear that sound you just made?"
One of your hands falls down his back, pulling, hoping to spur him into a crueler rhythm. "Eddie, it's so deep."
Something about your wet eyes, your pleading tone really gets him. A wave of shuddering moves over his skin and he pulls you by the shoulders into his chest, mouth at your neck muttering curses. You cry out as he hits your sweet spot again, merciless, hardly recovered from one thrust when you're suffering another. You're a wet mess of whimpering, his name and nothing else on your lips.
"I'm…" He takes a deep breath, sounding apologetic. "I'm close, babe, I'm," he cuts himself, slowing his movements.
"It's okay, it's okay." You want to say something sexy like a bombshell would but all you can do is squeeze your walls around his cock and pull his hair from his neck and whisper, "You can cum. Please."
"Shit," he moans, hands tight on your hips, rocking you against his rutting cock until he's cumming. You'd pay more than you should for the sound on tape.
His grip on your hips is bruising as he sits up. "Fuck," he says, voice coloured with good humour. You laugh at his laughing, the two of you giggling and breathing hard. He lets go of your hips, stroking his hand against the markings left behind.
"Babe, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" he asks, eyes shooting upto yours.
You're failing to hide an amorous smile, breathing hard. "No, you didn't hurt me," you say fondly.
"Shit."
He pulls your legs off of his shoulders and they ache as he folds them up, resting his chin on your knees and pulling the dampened hair away from his sweaty forehead.
"You have the mouth of a sailor, Eddie."
He rubs his cheek against your kneecap. "Can you blame me? Sweetest pussy I've ever fucking seen-"
"You've barely seen it!"
"Fucked, then," he amends.
His hands are like silk as he follows down your thighs and spreads them open. You cover the flesh of your tummy with your hands as he pulls out and tugs the condom off of his softening dick. He ties it off, aiming for the trash can in the corner and missing.
You cringe. "Eds."
"I'll get it later," he says distractedly, staring down at the wet mess of your panties. "Babe, you've seen the jewels. Can we please have these off and I'll take care of you?"
Your legs close as you slide your knee against your thigh coyly. "Care sounds like I'm sick."
"You are sick. Sick body, sick smile, sick little sounds," he teases. "Sick cunt."
You wrinkle your nose and glare at him, giggling as he pulls your legs back open and his fingers dig under your waistband again.
"Don't fucking swear," you scold.
"Please?" he asks, ignoring your admonishment.
His hands are paused and patient. Your chest rises as you inhale, falls as you let it out slowly.
"Okay. Yeah. It's only fair."
Your bravado pleases him endlessly. "Attagirl," he says, pulling your panties down until they hang off of one ankle. You wiggle your foot to make them slide past your sock, Eddie too distracted by your bare centre.
"You're a total jerk for hiding this from me," he says, the flat of his palm smoothing down the edge of your cunt, his thumb pulling your entrance open just slightly. "You think I wonder about your boobs? I fucking did, but your pussy?"
You flush white hot at his words. "Does it… meet your expectations?"
He bursts into boyish laughter between your legs until you're giggling too, the giggles quickly tapering into breathlessness as his lips touch your skin. Close-lipped kisses up the inside of your thigh until he's loving on your cunt. He rubs at your entrance before easing you open, middle and ring finger pushing in with his wrist turned up as he suckles your clit. You reach for his hair, scratching his scalp gently as you scrape messy curls from his face.
He makes up for any inaccuracy with ardency. You twitch beneath him, hips rolling in an attempt to draw him impossibly closer.
"I got you," he murmurs into your sticky skin. He nibbles lightly at your clit, pulls until it slips from between his lips. "Wanna feel you cum around my fingers."
You seize up, thighs tightening. "Eds-"
He shushes you, three quick sh sh sh's that make you wanna pinch him. His pinky and index finger slide against the wet skin between your cunt and thighs as he finger fucks you, curving into your sweet spot as his mouth works you over. You're pent up from the fuck and he knows what he's doing, and you can't help pulling his hair as you cum around his fingers, clamping down hard.
He plays a little longer but eases up when you cry out, the bottom of his face shining with dampness as he pulls away.
He wipes the mess away with the back of his hand. "You taste sweet. But that might've been the lube."
You splutter around a breathless laugh and tug him on top of you, bodies pressed together and sweaty. His weight is nice.
"That was fun, right?" he asks, hands at your neck, elbows digging into your naked chest as his face hovers above yours. If you didn't know him as well as you did you'd miss the tiny silver of worry.
"So fun. I have amazing ideas," you agree, panting.
"Amazing."
There's a gap of silence where you catch your breath and Eddie watches.
"How's the dynamic? Changed?" he asks lightly, fingers tapping over your collar like he's playing a song.
"Irrevocably."
You wrap one of his curls around your finger and indulge yourself, eye to eye, lips an inch apart.
"Do you wanna do it again?" he asks.
You pretend to think about it. "Yeah."
He gives you that perfect puppy dog smile and kisses your cheek, a wet, smacking thing as he climbs off of you and pulls you into his lap. You haven't quite decided, but you think you might let him kiss you on the mouth if he wanted to.
-
they get better at fucking I swear
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leog4u · 2 months
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Game Design and Porn Pt. 1
or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever
Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.
So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what’s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.
Define "porn game" for me, Leo.
There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.
Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.
The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.
Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?
There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.
I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?
Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)
So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.
You get to watch porn when you lose?
To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.
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The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.
What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!
Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.
What if we made the porn actual rewards?
Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?
There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.
Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.
Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.
So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.
Plot milestones
In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.
Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”
Rewarding exploration
By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!
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So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.
If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?
So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.
That sounds excessive
Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.
I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.
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Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?
Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.
Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.
It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.
Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.
So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.
To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.
”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”
It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.
This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources
It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.
(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)
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pomefioredove · 20 days
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OH MY SEVEN! PLEASE I NEED A PART 2 OF MC GETTING BOUGHT BY NBC (or maybe they get bought by rsa? By like Chenya or Neige?)
part two of the NBC ending is here! very intrigued by the idea of an RSA ending, especially since our knowledge is limited. I also kin snow white so maybe I have a little soft spot for neige.
bonus: I had to stop writing this to save another animal that got inside. second time this week.
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending
summary: yuu transfers to RSA type of post: short fic characters: neige, chenya additional info: yuu is gender neutral, pretty platonic
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This entire ordeal had been nothing if not shady.
From the purpose, to the "donations", to the absence of the prefect themselves...
...And now, the grand announcement- that of which Crowley had been hyping up for days- was cancelled.
"I don't get it," Epel murmurs, walking on a sideways footpath back to the hall of mirrors. "You really think he just took all the money and ran?"
Vil huffs, the disappointment heavy in his voice. "Well, it certainly seems that way. No one's seen him all day,"
Despite the sour mood over the trio of Pomefiore students, the day is bright and sunny. Birds sang, the sun shone, even the wind carried a suspiciously merry tune with it.
"We should not give up hope so soon. Anything could happen," Rook ponders. "Who knows? The day is not over yet."
"I'm starting to wish it was," Vil says. "It's far too jovial for such an underwhelming afternoon. And the whole purpose of this walk was to clear our minds... hmph."
Epel squints ahead, taking in the way beams of sunlight seem to shine through the foliage, casting rays of gold over the usually darker campus.
"Y'know, I betcha- I-I mean, I think you might be onto something. It is unusually cheery today, isn't it?"
Vil huffs. "Wonderful. Nature itself mocks me,"
"Non, it's not the climate which has changed... it's more of a presence. Monsieur Pommette is correct," Rook says. "Something has shifted here."
Vil rolls his eyes, not exactly in the mood to be playing word games with Rook again. He shoots a glare to Epel, warning the boy not to encourage him, and a silence falls over the three.
Though... he still cannot deny that something feels aloof. Something that isn't sitting right with him...
He sighs. "Perhaps we should check on the prefect. Just in case,"
And so the three stop in their tracks and awkwardly, though hurriedly, walk to Ramshackle.
Nothing is quite amiss about the building itself, though, still, there's something hazy and dreamlike about it. A warm, golden glow that turns the rough and brittle exterior into a quaint and charming home, full of light.
"I don't like this," Epel murmurs. Vil does not respond, but he understands. He's having similar thoughts.
Just as they're about to enter, someone tall and dark steps outside.
"Crowley!" all three snap, in varying tones of voice.
The man goes stiff and, for a moment, looks as if he's about to make a run for it- though he thankfully holds his ground. "Ah- good afternoon, dear pupils. Having a... studiful day?"
"That's not a word," Vil crosses his arms and glares. "Why are you here?"
"I was... well... just discussing some things... with... the prefect..."
He sounds utterly nervous.
Vil's eyes narrow. "What are you hiding?"
Before he can answer, the door behind him opens again, and you peer outside, giving Crowley a chance to escape. "Guys?"
"Trickster! We are relieved to see you in good health!"
"Hm? Why wouldn't I be?"
Epel shakes his head. "W-well, you just haven't been around much, and we saw Crowley- hey, where'd he go?"
Vil grumbles something indistinct, massaging his temples. "That man..." he sighs. "But back to business. Are you well? What's happened?"
You look away. "Well-"
Thankfully, before you have to explain it yourself, the door opens wider, leaving the Pomefiore trio face-to-face with the one person they least expected to see.
Neige beams. "Oh, my... hello, Vil! I didn't think I'd run into you here!"
The housewarden's eyes immediately narrow, and it takes him a moment to respond. "Yes, well, as you know, I go to school here. Would anyone care to explain this?"
A voice from behind the trio echoes. "Oh, I volunteer!"
Epel squeaks and jumps (much to his embarrassment) and the other two whirl around to an ever-smiling face they can't quite recall...
"See, we're on the moving squad," Che'nya giggles, slinking back to the front door of Ramshackle. "You wanna know why? I'm sure you're just dying with curiosity, aren't you?"
"I can put the pieces together myself, thank you," Vil murmurs. "But I do have a few questions."
Che'nya opens his mouth wide again-
"-Not for you," he turns to you. "How? And why, exactly?"
You shrug, looking to Neige for help.
Which he gladly provides, of course. "Well... it was more of a school decision. We heard what was happening, and held a vote," he says, speaking tentatively while under Vil's astute gaze. "We've heard lots about how much your prefect has helped here, and how unfortunate their circumstances are, and... well..."
"A person like that just doesn't go to NRC," Che'nya snickers.
Vil glares for a moment longer, and then sighs. "Well... this is certainly a turn of bad luck for the lot of us,"
"But I can visit!" you insist.
Neige and Che'nya both nod in agreement, though the latter's placid smile makes his approval seem less genuine.
"Well," Vil says, turning to the boys beside him. "Don't you two have anything to say?"
Epel clears his throat, trying his best to sound light and formal. "I think it's... it's... I'll miss you," he sulks.
"A magnifique opportunity! Think how much you will learn, how many new people you will meet- oh, you must allow me to visit often! I could not bear to let you make all these beautiful discoveries on your own!" Rook says, dabbing the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief.
"Why am I not surprised?" Vil sighs. "Well... I suppose I have a duty to inform the others. And, perhaps..."
He pauses, his watchful gaze fixed on you.
"...We might hold a vote of our own."
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bodyhopper-files · 4 days
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Body Hopper Files: Mateo
My stomach churned and my mind spun as I found myself in a new body. Again. It was a familiar feeling, but it never got any less disorienting. I had no control over these spontaneous jumps from one person's life to another's. For the past two months, I had been living as a quiet college professor. But now, who was I? Where was I?
I took in my surroundings with a quick glance: a busy kitchen filled with people moving all around. I felt young, definitely younger than the professor. How young, though? Looking at my hands, I saw light brown skin and some tattoos on my arms. My uniform was black and stained with food, an apron tied around my waist. In my pocket, I found a phone that unlocked with my new face as the ID. I switched quickly to the camera and saw myself for the first time; a cute face with full lips and scruffy facial hair greeted me. Probably around 19 years old. Not bad, not bad at all.
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Putting the phone away, my next instinct was to feel myself up through the fabric of my uniform. A nice long and thick surprise awaited me in between my legs - a big new sausage to play with. It was quite the contrast from the professor's more modest middle-aged penis (not that I'm complaining! I've grown to appreciate all types of genitalia during these random body switches).
Suddenly, a stern voice called out behind me - Mateo's boss, probably. "Mateo! Get back to work! And stop taking selfies!"
Shit, I was about to get this kid in trouble if I didn't start pretending to be him real soon.
I quickly straightened up and turned to face my boss, trying to play it cool. "Sorry sir, just checking the time," I said with a sheepish smile. I figured I was young enough I could still play it cute and get away things like that.
He grunted in response and turned his attention back to the food he was preparing. With a developed skilled I’d picked up from so many random body hops, I returned seamlessly to Mateo’s daily work, navigating the busy kitchen with ease, knowing exactly what needed to be done and when. It was clear that he was well-liked by his coworkers, who joked and laughed with him throughout the shift. Despite the long hours and physical demands, Mateo loved his job, and before long I felt the same youthful passion as I helped the line cooks out, bussed tables, and flirted with the waitresses. It was all in a night’s work for Mateo.
Before I knew it, closing time neared and the orders slowed. I untied my apron, wiped sweat from my brow and headed to the break room for a much-needed rest before the restaurant closed. Sinking into a plastic chair, I pulled out Mateo's phone again. There were dozens of notifications - mostly messages from friends and family wondering how he was doing in the big city. But I was more interested in his dating profiles.
As I scrolled through the apps, I couldn't help but chuckle at some of the messages he'd been receiving. There were dirty one-liners, shirtless selfies, and even a few invitations to kinky encounters. Mateo clearly had a way with the guys! I responded to a few messages, using his usual flirty tone, all the while feeling that big new sausage throbbing underneath Mateo’s dirty workwear. It wasn’t likely that I’d be spending the night alone, given how some of the men I’d messaged in Mateo’s apps had responded.
"Good work today, Mateo," the head chef called out as he walked by, giving me a friendly pat on the back. I smiled and nodded, trying my best to act natural and turn attention away from my raging boner.
The restaurant finally closed for the night and everyone began to clock out. I made sure to say goodbye and thank all of Mateo's coworkers, who were all too eager to invite me out for drinks. It was tempting, but I had bigger plans for my first night in this new body.
I made my way to the locker room, quickly changing out of my sweaty work clothes along with all the other restaurant staff and into street clothes for a night out. Mateo's phone buzzed with another notification - it was one of the guys I'd been messaging earlier. He wanted to meet up at a nearby bar.
Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, I headed out into the city streets and made my way towards the bar. As I walked, I couldn't help but soak in the feeling of being young and carefree again. It had been so long since I had felt this way, as most of my recent host bodies had been older men with their own set ways and responsibilities. But as Mateo, I could be whoever I wanted to be - a young, attractive guy, new to the city with his whole life ahead of him.
I arrived at the bar and spotted my date sitting at a booth in the corner. He looked just as good as in his pictures; an attractive young man about Mateo’s age but with a larger, more dominant physique. He waved me over eagerly as I approached, giving me an appreciative once-over.
"Hey there, Mateo," he said with a grin as we awkwardly hugged hello.
"Hey," I replied with a flirty smile that came naturally in this body.
We settled into our seats and ordered drinks, chatting about our lives and interests as I delved into Mateo’s memories and personaltiy. As we talked, he reached across the table to brush his hand against mine, sending shivers down my spine. His touch was electric against Mateo's skin.
The conversation eventually turned more flirtatious as our drinks continued to flow. My hands trembled slightly as I leaned in closer to his, my heart racing with anticipation.
“Mateo, do you want to come home with me?”
Finally, it was time for me to give into the urges of the body I now possessed. I smiled seductively and said "I'd love to."
We quickly paid our tab and headed out into the night, his arm wrapped firmly around my waist. As we walked, I could feel Mateo's young, toned body tingling with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.
When we arrived at his apartment, he led me straight to the bedroom, kissing me passionately as we tumbled onto the bed. I eagerly returned his kisses, reveling in the feeling of stubble against Mateo's soft skin.
We had a wonderful evening together, fucking again and again with seemingly unlimited stamina, and then laughing and talking late into the night. I felt comfortable and at ease in Mateo's body, like I could truly be myself, even though I knew I was just a pretender. As it got later, we cuddled up close and fell asleep in each other's arms.
The next morning, sunshine streamed in through the window as I slowly awoke. For a moment, I had forgotten I was in Mateo's body. As I looked around the unfamiliar room, the memories of the night before came flooding back. I smiled thinking about the fun we'd had.
I couldn't help but think my time as Mateo was going to be great. As long as was him, I'd have an easy job that he absolutely loves and hook up with hot men every single night! ----- ----- -----
Original story and AI Illustration by @bodyhopper-files
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I'm the ugliest nerd in the world and I have nobody. I wish I was a man with dark brown eyes, nice muscles and everything that makes a himbo... and every nerd I kiss becomes a man like only an Arabian fairy tale could tell. He would only want me. Only I could keep his muscular body up with kisses and fucks.
Can you grant me this one Wish?
An Arabian fairy tale
Once upon a time, there was a nerd called Gregor. He lived his life in a big city and every day, he was miserable. Not only was he gay and lonely, no, the little nerd was also ugly. He wasn't just ugly, no, he was the ugliest nerd there was in the whole country.
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Every day he wished he could find a lover and live happily ever after, but every day, he was reminded of his status as a lonely nerd. He tried online-dating, but due to his exterior, nobody seemed to want him.
Gregor was a shy, awkward guy who didn't get many chances to talk to strangers. In his free time, he enjoyed writing fantasy stories, a hobby that didn't bring him too many friends, either. It was frustrating, too. In his stories, the hero always managed to find a true love. He wasn't alone, no, he had someone at his side.
In his real life, however, Gregor didn't have such luck. The best thing that happened to him in a while was meeting another nerd online. There wasn't going to be anything romantic between them. As fate would have it, the other nerd, called Evan was also gay and lived not too far away, but Evan had made it pretty clear early on that Gregor just wasn't his type. Instead, he rooted for manly men, with a different ethnic background. Evan and Gregor spent a long lonely night in voice chat together, discussing their preferences. Evan apparently longed for the firm touch of a strong man with Arabic background.
Meanwhile, Gregor didn't dare say what he wished for. What was the use, anyway? There was no way it was going to happen. No one wanted to be with a weak, ugly nerd like him. To be honest, he didn't actually really know himself. In his thoughts, a partner was something so abstract, so far away that he hadn't even thought about how such a person would look like.
Evan's fantasy wasn't bad, though. After their talk, Gregor lay awake in his bed and imagined strong, middle-eastern men, along with Evan. Perhaps he had developed a slight crush on the other nerd. Finally, he drifted off to sleep, wishing that he and Evan could be together.
When Gregor awoke the next morning, he felt strangely energetic and in a pretty good mood. Thinking nothing of it, he quickly got dressed and thought about what to do today. He didn't have any work to do and would usually have spent the day indoors, writing one of his stories. However, after the refreshing talk yesterday, that didn't feel all too appealing. Instead, he had an idea: He knew where Evan lived and worked. Perhaps he should walk over to that other part of the city, and they could have a coffee. Not as a date, of course - but more as a continuation of last night's talk.
Gregor didn't have time to waste and left the house. As he stepped into the sun, the first thing he noticed was how bright the world suddenly appeared. He didn't think much of it, but a few moments later, the second strange thing happened: People were looking at him!
Now, Gregor was of course used to people looking after him - he was really ugly, after all! But today, it was different. The gazes that lingered on him didn't seem to be hostile or disgusted. They seemed curious.
Perhaps his shirt had a hole in it, Gregor thought. He checked himself, but no, the shirt was fine.
As he walked, the attention he drew increased steadily. Was there something on his face perhaps? Or his arms?
As he checked his arms, Gregor was amazed by what he saw: His milky-white skin that usually had a sickly tone to it was entirely different today: instead of the pale and blotchy skin, he now had a healthy and firm complexion. The muscles in his arms, which he usually thought of as scrawny and flabby were now clearly visible.
He checked the other arm, and it was the same. What was going on? Also, his vision was getting blurry. When he took off his glasses to clean them, however, his vision cleared up instantly. It was as if his short-sightedness was just gone!
As Gregor kept walking, the changes became more apparent: His legs, which had always been thin and small, were now visibly muscular. His stomach, which had always been a little fat, was now a firm six-pack. His clothes, which had been a bit baggy before, were getting tighter and tighter as both his height and his shoulder width increased more and more.
His hair, which had always been a dark brown, was getting even darker, and a strong stubble covered his chin. His skin, which had been the same milky white tone, was getting a darker, more exotic tan.
Gregor had no idea what was going on, and he was a little scared. But the more his body changed, the better he felt about it. He wasn't an ugly nerd anymore. He was not yet sure what he was going to become, but it was surely better than what he had been.
Meanwhile, his clothes were getting increasingly tight, and he felt like taking them off. That was not something he would ever do in public, but his urges were stronger than his shyness. With a quick movement, he took off his shirt and ripped his pants open. To his surprise, below the tight jeans, a pair of silk shorts in a shiny royal blue had formed instead of his slip, which covered his privates. However, even though he wasn't naked, the ample bulge that stretched the silky fabric left little to imagination: a large and thick manhood had formed between his legs, which left a clearly visible dick print, along with the thinly veiled big orbs of balls he now had.
By now, Gregor's appearance was attracting a lot of attention, as his body kept growing more and more, becoming larger and more impressive by the second. He wasn't even "lean" or "fit" anymore. The way his body expanded, he definitely qualified as "muscular" by now, perhaps even "bulky". His shoulders were wide and strong, and his back had filled out so much that his neck had almost disappeared entirely. His biceps and triceps were both at least the size of his head and were covered in a fine, dark fuzz. The rest of his body had also become much hairier: His chest was covered in a generous carpet of dark hairs and a thick bush of pubes was pushing out against the silky shorts.
People had stopped and stared, and even a few had started to snap pictures or take videos with their phones. Gregor was enjoying the attention. His facial structure reformed into something much more manly. His new Arabic heritage became clearly visible on his face. His nose, his eyes, and his jawline changed and became broader, more prominent. His eyes became deep and dark, and his bushy eyebrows made him appear quite serious and manly.
A superior grin appeared on his face that wouldn't go away anymore. Gregor knew he had become a walking wet dream of Arabic hunkness - especially for Evan. He couldn't wait to surprise him like that.
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Even though his identity hadn't changed much, Gregor didn't feel like calling himself Gregor anymore. Ghalib. That was a far more fitting name for his impressive Arabic stature. It meant 'victor' or 'conqueror' - and Ghalib felt exactly like that.
Ghalib wasn't even sweating when he arrived at Evans place a short jog later. He rang the bell, and when the little nerd in front of him opened, he didn't waste any time: Ghalib pulled Evan into a tight and sensual kiss, invading the other man's mouth with determined force. Evan moaned in his mouth and his legs gave in.
Ghalib held the small nerd up and carried him inside the flat, kicking the door shut behind him. The rest of their clothes soon littered the floor as the two men kissed passionately. However, as they were making out, Evan, too, began to change. It was almost like watching his own changes in fast forward: The hair on his head receded into a shorter style and was replaced by a thick fuzz that grew on his chest and the rest of his body. Evan's face morphed into a masculine and rugged appearance. His skinny, pale arms and legs grew more and more muscles, until they looked like they were sculpted out of marble. His skin darkened and an Arabic ethnicity appeared by it.
Finally, the smaller man's cock expanded and swelled up. Within a few seconds, it reached almost the size of Ghalib's.
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As they continued kissing, the two men, now equally hung and ripped, felt up each other's bodies. Ghalib had no idea why this was happening, or what had brought on these changes, but he didn't care. All he knew - or was pretty sure about - was that it didn't have to stop with Evan.
As the other hunk went down on him, Ghalib made a decision. Evan and he would share their gift, turning more and more nerds into a true harem of sexy Arabs!
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faetreides · 2 months
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do you think modern!coryo is the type of man to babytrap reader without them knowing ? like by poking holes in the condoms or by replacing reader’s birth control pills with fake ones…
n when you end up pregnant he’d pretend to act all surprised even tho it’s what he’s wanted all along 🙈
cw: no really explicit stuff (putting up the mdni banner regardless bc of the dark content but there is one mention of sex) but there is MAJOR dubcon pregnancy and baby trapping talk, typical coryo warnings especially for this au
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I've talked about this before, but i think baby trapping would be more of a last resort for him or at least wouldn't happen until he could weasel you out of school without you freaking out. Obviously if your relationship was falling apart fast enough before he planned to have kids, he'd make the decision to speed up the process. Coryo's one of those bfs who don't fuck with condoms because he wants to be "close", so I think that he'd go for the swapping birth control pills route.
So, it's either happening earlier in your relationship if he thinks he really needs to prove that what you have is forever & that he's committed, or it happens 2-3 years down the line when he has a more solid hold on you. When it goes down depends on how reluctant you are to commit.
He knows that it's such a hassle finding the right pill for your body. you have to be so consistent, and the hormones/side effects could easily have you thinking they're not worth it if the side effects are bad enough. But if you've found one that's.... fine (you're convinced no pill's going to be 100% perfect & you're tired of trying), then he'd have a harder time getting you off of them.
He'll get a bottle of those sugar pills and swap them with the birth control while you're sleeping. you don't really notice a difference in the sex because let's be real, he's just always like that and the breeding kink is severe. Coryo doesn't act any different, he doesn't have to. Even if this is happening in a timeline where it's far earlier than he planned, it's what he wants, and the satisfaction gives him the glow he knows you're going to have too sooner or later.
One day he gets a phone call from you in the middle of the night and somehow, he just knows it's you because he immediately springs up. You hate phone calls and almost always prefer to text unless you literally have to call someone, so the fact that it must be something serious makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. Coryo clears his throat and calmly tells you to stay put in your dorm and to wait for him to pick you up, he soothes you through your crying and assures you that he'll send someone over to pick your stuff up and no one will notice.
Once he's gotten you drowning in his silk sheets, he's trying to hold back his smile as he rubs your back and kisses your temple.
"What's wrong, petal? it breaks my heart seeing you all worked up like this."
He frowns genuinely when you don't respond but then you bring a shaky fist in front of him and start to uncurl your fingers around whatever you're holding.
You speak once you've calmed down enough, with a desperate tone as it becomes obvious what's in your hand.
"I- I'm so sorry, Coryo. I didn't mean for this happened at all and I'd never do anything to hurt your future. I- I'm on the pill and I know it's not completely effective, but I never thought that this would happen so soon."
It's adorable, in a way. Of course you didn't mean for this to happen, but he did. And you honestly thought that this was going to ruin his life, you're so sweet, but how could he care about tabloids or gossiping students when he'll have his family to focus on? his grandma'am will be so happy too, his father will just be glad he has an heir.
Still, he lets shock color his face as his mouth drops open. He glances between the pregnancy test and your shaking body several times before making a production out of sighing and gathering his strength. Coryo tenderly encapsulates your hands in his own and presses his forehead against yours.
"There's nothing you could do that would make me not want you and this baby. Yes, we're young and this was an accident, but it doesn't mean that we can't do this. You don't have to be afraid, bunny, you're never going to be alone." His words are firm, so sure of what he's saying that he can actually see the reluctance and fear in your eyes be replaced with certainty and excitement.
He's too serious to say "it's uterUS, babe" but he's so determined to fuse with you so it's basically the sentiment. convinced he gets sympathy pains but hides it. Whispers to your belly when you're asleep about how much he loves you and likes the baby & how perfect of a family he'll be & that he knows the baby's going to be the best older sibling. I've also said before that he'd a toxic boy dad imo, (not in the excusing 🍇way dw, he'd kick his son's ass and say that you can be as obsessive over your partner as you want but you don't do that) so he would tolerate the kid but at the end of the day they're fighting for your attention. I haven't really thought about if he'd use the kid to "innocently" keep tabs on you or further manipulate you by making sure you see how good of a dad he is, but the ideas are there.
First pregnancy gives y'all one kid but the second brings twins.
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ⓒ faetreides 2024
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yukuoo · 3 months
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James Lee x fem!reader
James red hair era
𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂
"I'm convinced no one wants me." You huffed out, complaining to your friend for the 29383829294th time today. You've never had a boyfriend yeah, even when you moved from America to Korea no one has ONCE asked you out. Even if people asked you out in your home town, it was clear that they had bad intentions with you.
Its not the fact that they were shorter than you was the problem.. Well it sort of was but not really— but it was the look in their eye that made you uneasy.
"Uh-huh okay anyways did you hear James got another trophy?" Your friend completely dismissed your complaints which made you Huff. All this talk about James and who didn't even know who he was.
Sure your friend had pointed him out a few times, but his back was turned to you. So you never saw the face to the name. "Really? What type of trophy" you pouted slightly. James seemed like a popular guy, though you were certain that most of the people who tried to approach him wanted him for his fame around school only.
"Poetry!"
"Oh shit, isnt poetry hard?"
".. You know what else is hard—"
"Okay buddy I'm going to stop you right there."
Bidding each other your goodbyes, you made your way to your down the hall, unaware of the pair of eyes that trailed your figure. In just a second, someone tapped your shoulder making you turn around and look at the person responsible for making you acknowledge them.
"Hello there." A smirk appeared on the guys lips, yes he was fairly attractive. And by that he was VERY attractive. You couldn't help but think he was familiar.
"Hello...? Have I seen you around?" Just with that sentence it felt like James's confidence had been crushed. Like a piano fell on top of him. But he didn't mind, thats what he liked about you.
He knew you didn't like popularity or didn't really mind much of the other students, though the downside was that you didn't know him... He knew you were just slow actually.
Like. You were sort of stupid actually.
"James. My names James Lee." He introduced himself while walking closer to you, moving his lollipop to the other side of his mouth to talk to you clearer.
You stared at him for a bit, one second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Click!
"OHH YOU'RE— OHHHHH" it was amusing how it took you a bit to know who he was. A face to the name.
"Yeah."He pretended to wonder for a second soon saying your name. You nodded and smiled.
"Yeah! Whats up?"
"Oh nothing much, just wondering if I could use a bit of your time if you're not in a hurry." Of course you just freed yourself, so you complied with his request. His smile widened, not in a weird way but more so as in a pleased way.
"Sweet okay, I just have a question is all." He wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
"What's your type?"
Your brain short circuited.
There was no way THE James Lee had just asked you that. Of course, you barely payed attention to your friends stories of the guy. He has seemed interesting due to the amount of accomplishments he had done, he was the star student of the whole SCHOOL. Who wouldn't be shocked? Not only that, but he was fairly attractive.
If anything, you were a sore loser compared to him. You were just an average girl, an average social life, and hella shy. Plus you sucked in most of the sports you played that being volleyball and basketball.
So why would a genius like him be asking you this sort of question.
"Uhm... Well.." How were you supposed to tell him that you have NEVER been in a relationship without getting embarrassed.
"I guess someone who can put up with me...?" A chuckle left your lips, your answer sounding more like a question after responding with an unsure tone.
The silence James gave you made it even worse.
"I see." He muttered, the smirk never leaving his lips.
Now holding hands with James after a month you stared at the flowers in the ground.
"Did I just get asked out by James fucking Lee." Only did it take a month for you to actually register that you had been in a relationship with the most popular guy in school.
"Yeah."
"What the fuck."
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Omg I posted this kinds of late but someone asked me if it was like another James story here and I had completely forgotten to post where I was inspired by for the story.
@spaceyflowerswriting! I didn't mean for it to look like their story, I was writing it during a school night rlly late so I'm so so sorry if it seemed like I had taken it😭
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