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#playing around with my pencil brushes more
phmonster · 6 months
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two girls chilling, bonding, gettin to know each other
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jackaxed · 2 months
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syncrovoid-presents · 10 months
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More Wally Darling doodles @:)
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corpsoir · 2 years
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hi hi!!! gyro with 63-down by the river 👀
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thinking about how ominous he was that one time when johnny looked through his belongings sghjsgsgds
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dirkxcaliborn · 1 year
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getting so desperate for MikaNazu content that I started making my own
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niennanir · 10 months
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Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
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Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
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No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
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use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
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Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
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You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
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Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
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Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
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I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
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yuyusboyfriend · 4 months
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Sweet Dreams ☾˚✧
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pairing: best friend!wooyoung x reader
wordcount: 2k
content: Playing with your best friend's hair seems to do more to him than you think.
warnings: nsfw, slight somno, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart, love, honey) afab!reader, no use of gendered pronouns but words like cunt, clit etc. are used, nipple play, cunnilingus, wooyoung is still a brat, lmk if im missing anything!
Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
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He squeezed your waist as you continued to brush his soft locks, letting out soft snores against your thigh. You swiped your finger over what he called his "dot", before returning to playing with his dark strands.
Wooyoung had been by your side since your first year of college, sitting down next to you on the first day; He purposely flicked his pencil onto your desk to distract you both from the task at hand.
"whatcha doing?" He said to you in a failed attempt at whispering. You gave him a quick side eye before returning to your work and dropping his pen on his desk.
"The work. I'm doing the work."
"Cool! Cool… what was the work again?" You finally give him a proper look at his face. Fuck, he's gorgeous. The mischievous grin he had plastered across his face was angelically evil and you could hardly tear your eyes away as you analysed his perfect features.
"Like something you see?" He ran his tongue against his top teeth as you stared back at him in now horror.
"What?" you yell, flustered and loud enough for a few classmates to whip their heads in your direction with a glare.
"My name's Wooyoung, you?" He-Wooyoung carried on as though nothing happened, as you noticed he was holding your phone and adding his number, texting himself so he could save yours.
"y/n, but what are you-" The professor announced the class was over and Wooyoung had already hopped out of his chair and walked to the exit, before turning around one last time,
"Talk soon, yeah?" He softly smiled at you and left.
That's what led you here, as his sleepy sounds echoed in the silence of your bedroom. The laptop that had been previously playing the movie you were watching on mute, careful not to wake him up. It was the last day of exams and you were both taking your well-deserved rest. Wooyoung looked so innocent in his slumber; long lashes resting on his smooth cheek, hands squeezing tighter around you occasionally as if he wasn't already close enough to you. He was so… kissable.
Fuck, you shouldn't be thinking about that - You had been trying your best to forget the silly flutter you felt in your chest when you thought about your best friend. You knew better to feel this way about Wooyoung, but every time he invaded your personal space, which was a lot, the ache in your stomach became worse with each touch. To say you were suffering right now would be an understatement.
"Mmhm…." Wooyoung hummed in his sleep, fidgeting against your outstretched leg under him. You stared at his lips as he huffed again.
"You having a dream woo?" You knew he was still too deep in his sleep to hear you, but you still hoped he would wake up and put you out of your misery. He shuffled against your leg again and squeezed you once more, rolling his hips slightly.
Was… was he hard?
"woo, seriously" he cut you off with a whimper against your waist, his jaw dropping open slightly to let the noise slip out onto you. Your muscles froze as he grinded on your leg, desperate for friction. You tried to escape the grip of the boy but as you shuffled away he only readjusted his tight hold on you and pulled you further down grinding into your inner thigh. You could feel yourself getting wet at the situation as well as the growing patch on your thigh from Wooyoung's precum leaking through his jogging bottoms.
"y/n, fuck" his sleepy form dug his nails into your lower back making you moan at the pain and pleasure, making you squirm enough to-
"y/n?" Wooyoung was looking up at your restless form, worry forming in his darkened eyes as he tried to halt the drag of his hips against your crotch. Your own body holding back the urge to push your hips up to him closing the minuscule gap between your heated bodies.
"Woo,
I'm sorry I should've woken you up-"
"y/n, please shut up for like two seconds" Wooyoung breathily whispers before reaching up to your face and lunging his lips against yours. His kiss was overflowing with desperation as he gripped the back of your neck to pull you towards his form, resuming his hips movements over your clothes. You could feel his head pressing down into your cunt through the stupid amount of layers separating your bodies.
"Fuck baby, you think I can get these off you?" Wooyoung whispered sweetly into your ear, snapping the waistband of your sweatpants and grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin under your ear. You tried to wriggle them off by yourself but Wooyoung wanted to hear your words.
"words baby." He peered through his long lashes.
"please Wooyoung."
"'Please Wooyoung' what?" Oh, what a bastard. He was getting off on being bratty despite his growing need in his pants getting harder by the second. Knowing Wooyoung meant you knew he wasn't gonna give up this fight no matter how in need he was.
"Woo take these off me right I swear to god" He snatched your sweatpants from your waist along with your undies and stuffed them in his pocket before you could finish your threat.
"Honey you're soaked, all from me rubbing up on you while I was asleep? that's dirty." his hoarse voice seeped through a wide grin. He dragged his thumb against your cunt, spreading your arousal to your sensitive clit.
"Shit! Wooyoung, please oh my god" you whined under his soft touch.
"Not God, love, I'm better" He gave you a wink before lowering his head to kiss down your thighs, each kiss nearing further to your aching cunt as you pleaded and begged him to end your suffering. Your hips lift as his lips latch around your clit, tongue moving expertly against it while he slides a digit into your begging hole. It wasn't enough. You needed him, his cock to fill you. As though he could hear your thoughts raging around your head, he takes his mouth off you for a second.
"I need you wet enough to take me, sweetheart, I can't go hurting you now can I?"
"Wooyoung I can take it you dickhead, please," You pant, tipping your head back.
"You're so impatient, can't even let me enjoy my meal" He huffed wiping his mouth, standing up to untie his sweats and rip them off, "You got a condom?" He looked at your bedside drawer and opened it before giving you a chance to answer. He closed his palm around a small silver vibrator and presented it to you.
"you think about me when you use this baby?" he bit his lip as he examined the toy, turning it on to feel the vibrations on his fingertips. "You probably touch yourself with this while whining my name under your breath, huh." You shivered under him at the filth spilling out of his mouth, your own words stuck in the back of your throat at the sight of him. You leant up to tug his shirt off of him, desperate to feel his skin against yours, thighs clenching together as your eyes take in his naked form.
"please." Your whimper was enough for Woo to reach back into the drawer and fish for a condom, finally pulling one out and ripping the foil with his teeth as his other hand busied itself massaging your thigh. He slipped the condom over his hard length, groaning at the feeling of how turned on he was and leaned over your form.
"you sure?" He looked into your eyes, looking for any doubt or concern and being met with nothing but lust and your love for the boy.
"Wooyoung, now please, please" He cut off your begs, his tip slapping against your clit and meeting the entrance of your cunt, pressing into you with a hard thrust. You knew he was big but the feeling of your hole being filled so well had you writhing under him at the stretch.
"shit woo, I'm gonna cum," You pant, not registering your blabbering.
"Then cum baby, but I'm not done with you yet," He nipped at the skin of your collarbone, leaving a trail of blooming marks on your skin that made you whine. He thrusts into you a few more times before feeling you clench around him, feeling your release leak onto his cock, not halting his movements. He rocked himself deep into you, slowly turning the feeling of overstimulation into mind-breaking pleasure. The way he slammed into you every few strokes brought you back to the reality of him burying his length in your wet cunt. All you could muster was a string of moans mangled with his name, the pleasure suffocating your ability to think comprehensibly.
"My cock making you forget your words, babe, ah, fuck you're so cute under me. " He ran his tongue along your sternum, before latching his mouth onto your aching nipple. Ludicrous noises of his mouth lapping at your skin, his lips leaving your nipple with a pop before moving to the other and repeating his actions. You could only moan in reply, wrapping one arm around the back of his head to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, the other dragging your nails across his back in a way that was sure to leave a few marks by the time you were done.
before you could process what was happening you heard a buzzing noise coming from the boy's hand, "Better give this a go shall we? wanna see you come undone again." Your eyes shot open as you felt the cold metal vibrator around your clit, Wooyoung running it up and down as to deny your your second orgasm for a bit longer while his own began to build. He snapped his hips into you harshly, still with a consistent rhythm despite him slowly losing a grip on his sanity being buried so deep in you. His cock managed to brush up on your g-spot with every slam making you see stars.
You felt the vibrations directly on your clit now, your screams filling your bedroom as he continued to drive into your aching cunt - with the extra stimulation you were on the edge of your orgasm, and Wooyoung was basking in your noises, hips movements growing more sloppy by the second. The dirty noises from the base of his cock meeting your soaked cunt mixed with your moans in the air had his eyes rolling back.
"Woo I'm gonna- I can't-"
"You gonna ah- you gonna come on my cock again? Do it, I know you can" He grunted into your ear, voice hoarser than before. Your cunt squeezed his aching member as you came around him once again, feeling the condom swell with his own release inside your sore walls. He continued to roll his hips into you, riding out your orgasms together till you were done.
He looked into your eyes, and to your lips before connecting them again. You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck to pull him in closer, desperate to be close to him still.
"I need to pull out and get you cleaned up love," He whispered to you as you protested, wanting to feel him in you for a bit longer. As he pulled out, you let out an airy moan, sighing at the loss of feeling full. Wooyoung tied the condom and tossed it in the trash before pulling his boxers up and leaving to get something to clean up with.
You watch the way he moved as he helped clean you up, before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.
"Woo-"
"I love you y/n." You whip your head up to look at him, a little annoyed he just stole the words out from your mouth.
"I was gonna say that! You bastard i wanted to say i love you first!" He let out a high pitched laugh at your pouting face, before reaching to you and kissing you softly.
"You snooze you lose, love."
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oh my god i've wanted to write for woo so bad, its kind of shocking out of all the members I wrote woo as a dom but the heart wants what the heart wants❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 sorry for not posting in forever but I've had noooo motivation it's been ass 💔 thank you for reading !!!!
also this isn't proof read so most likely some mistakes 🙏
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moonstruckme · 11 days
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hmmm how about james potter and shy reader’s first kiss? 💘
Idk how this sat so long in my inbox, thank you for requesting (and for your patience) angel!
James Potter x shy!reader ♡ 998 words
You know James has been holding back on your account. He’s still a thousand times braver than you are, always with a hand cast over your shoulders or resting on your back or clasped around yours and compliments dropping from his lips like they’re nothing. You find it easier to reciprocate when he makes the first move like that. To lean into his side, tighten your fingers around his, smile and tell him he looks lovely, too. 
Tonight he seems to be taking things further, and you suspect you know why. He’s seemed reluctant to let you out of arm’s reach all night. Instead of just holding your hand, he’d played with your fingers while you’d sat in the cinema. He’d pushed your hair out of your face when you turned to talk to him, and a couple of times he’d wiped chocolate from the corner of your mouth that you suspect wasn’t really there. Now, as you’re walking home, he’s rubbing a slow, absentminded back-and-forth across the back of your hand with his thumb. It feels like he’s testing the waters. 
You’ve been dating for a while now. You’d wondered when it would come. 
James walks you up your front steps, every smile he beams your way worsening the bone-thuddering beat of your heart. It’s not necessarily James that scares you. He’s perfect and lovely and kind, and you want him close so badly it’s humiliating. 
He squeezes your hand in his, and your nerves misfire, the toe of your shoe catching on the top step. You gasp as you pitch forward, but James is quick. He grabs you around the middle and you save yourself with your other foot. 
“Whoa,” he laughs. “You alright, sweetheart?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe. “Sorry, I don’t know how that happened.” 
“They are your own front steps,” James points out. There’s a knowing in his eyes, in the soft curl of his bottom lip, that makes your cheeks warm and your stomach flutter. “I hate to think of what unfamiliar steps do to you if you’re falling right outside your own home.” 
“I know.” You look down, pretending you need to check your shoelaces or brush off your pants or some other ruse he won’t believe, and try not to be so acutely aware of how he hasn’t let you go. “It’s humiliating. The neighbors will talk.” 
“Let me know if they do. I’ll set them straight.” 
You grin up at him, and James’ expression is as warm as his voice. His eyes go molten as they meet yours, a look now familiar and yet newly thrilling every time. It makes your spine feel rubbery. 
“Thanks for coming tonight,” he says, voice gone a bit softer than usual. “I had a really great time.” 
“I did, too,” you reply earnestly. “Thanks for inviting me.” 
“You’re always invited, sweetheart.” His touch slips from around your middle, taking your hand again. “See you Friday, then?” 
When you’d told James how busy you’d be this week, he’d penciled himself into your schedule for Friday, when the pandemonium will have ceased. He wants to cook you dinner. You think you’ll likely deliquesce into a heart-shaped puddle when he does. 
“See you then.” You smile, and he smiles back, and then intention solidifies in his gaze.
You hold your breath. 
“Can I kiss you?” he asks. 
“Please.” The word leaves you on a sigh, and then James is stepping closer to you, your fingers tightening on his. 
The first soft press of his mouth is gentle and chaste. Warm, like the rest of him, like sunlight given form. His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, and you lean into the touch on instinct, slotting your nose alongside his to get him closer. It starts so slow and lovely you’re not sure you can handle anything more, but then James parts his lips and you mirror him reflexively and his sunlight is pouring into you. 
You let go of his hand to wrap both your arms around his neck, and James smiles against your lips as you press closer to him, his hand gentle on your face as he slows you both down again with sweet, soft kisses to your bottom lip. 
“Easy,” he says, his own voice slightly hoarse now. It sends shivers down your spine, light as a feather’s touch. “Let’s give the neighbors one headline at a time, yeah? Don’t want to overwhelm the presses.” 
You’re lost for words. You let your forehead rest against his, eyes still closed, savoring the warmth emanating from your lips. 
“Sweetheart, you with me?” James tilts his head up so his nose bumps into yours. You feel your lips curve of their own volition. “Was that okay?” 
You hum. “You’re right,” you say, impressed with how normal you manage to sound. “I think we should go inside so they’re left to wonder.” 
That earns you a hearty laugh, James grasping your shoulders when you’re forced away from him by the raucousness of it. 
“You said you were tired just a few minutes ago,” he reminds you. 
“I feel awake now.” 
He laughs again, delighted, and your face warms at your own brazenness. James lets his touch slip down your arms to your hands again, taking them in his and squeezing reassuringly. 
“As much as I’d like to,” he says, “you’ve got a big week. I should let you get to bed. Plus—” he gives you a roguish grin “—keeping you wanting more is how I get you to let me in here on Friday.”
You grin down at your shoes. “That’s very conniving of you.” 
“Oh, yeah, I’m nefarious that way. But one more.” 
James tilts your face up with a hand, pressing one quick, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling out of your reach. You know you look as surprised as you feel, because his eyes dance with amusement as he backs down the stairs, his smile poorly repressed. 
“See you Friday, sweetheart.” 
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irisintheafterglow · 8 months
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coparenting!megumi with satoru where one of you gets lost after school supply shopping it's not the actual child that gets lost
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"megs, where's satoru?"
"i thought he was with you."
"that's a problem, then, because he hasn't been with me for the past ten minutes." you plop down next to him, sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head and taking in the busy park in front of you. the weather was comfortable today, cool enough that you weren't sweating but warm enough to have megumi's ice cream dripping down the cone toward his little fingers. you wordlessly hand him a napkin and he takes it without looking at you, continuing to observe the people throwing around a frisbee or having a picnic in the sunshine. there was a playground on the other side of the field and you could vaguely make out the blurry forms of children running about. "you can go play, if you want. i can stay and watch the stuff."
"i don't really want to," he replies. "i like sitting here with you." the corner of your mouth turns up into a smile. he was barely big enough for his legs to touch the ground and he absentmindedly kicked his feet back and forth under the bench. "do we need to go anywhere else today?"
"i don't think so, no. i think we got everything that you'll need for next week." he nods in assent and the toes of his shoes brush against the plastic grocery bags holding his new school supplies.
you could tell megumi was excited, in his own quiet way, when the car pulled into the parking lot of the store. as much as he acted as the bane of satoru's existence, you knew he liked spending time with both of you. you stopped satoru with a gentle hand on his shoulder when his lanky legs ran for a cart, gesturing toward megumi heading down the first aisle, basket in hand. you barely had to do anything for most of the trip; at most, you'd remind the boy of a specific type of pencil or notebook he needed and provide feedback if he was split between two different designs. any additions by satoru were pointedly ignored by the boy unless they were reiterated by you. "if you need anything else, just let satoru know and he'll bring it to your school."
"you can't drop it off instead?"
"i know i usually do, but i have an assignment that's sending me out of town. you'll have to make do with your esteemed mentor for a bit." you smirk and nudge his shoulder with your elbow, chuckling softly when he frowns. it was a little funny, seeing a child have the expression of a businessman desperately waiting for retirement. "what is it, megs?"
"he scares all my teachers." you choke on the sip you take from your bottle, jolting forward and laugh-coughing your way to normal breathing again. it didn't surprise you, what megumi said; it was the incredibly straightforward, slightly amused note in his voice that had water going down the wrong pipes. "i'm serious. whenever you're visiting, people always gush about how well you take care of me."
"and when satoru comes around?"
"they hide." a prideful noise escapes your throat and the two of you have identical smirks as you sit on the bench. your eyes carefreely scan the field for any bright white hair or screams of commotion that could indicate your boyfriend's presence, but there are no such things. nonetheless, you're not worried. he always found his way back to you somehow.
at least, that's what you think.
you feel the telltale buzz-buzz-buzz of your phone in your back pocket and roll your eyes when you see the caller id.
"hello?"
"i'm lost."
"mmm, poor baby," you deadpan, glancing at megumi to see a small smile on his face.
"aren't you going to come find me?" his voice is teasingly playful, implying that he disappeared on purpose just for the hell of it.
"i'm not playing hide and seek with you, satoru. just come back to the ice cream cart."
"but it's so much more fun if you come get me instead," he argues, his voice slightly too insistent for you to think that he's joking. he better be kidding.
"satoru."
"okay, fine. i actually don't know where the hell i am." he is not kidding.
you sigh, standing and taking megumi's hand. "just retrace your steps, sweetheart." you stand and walk a random direction in hopes that your navigationally-challenged boyfriend would find his way to you. the plastic handle of the store bag digs into the crook of your elbow as you continue to hold the phone up to your ear. "can you describe your surroundings?"
"uh, trees."
"those are everywhere, satoru. we're in a park." you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips towards the tail end of your sentence. the irony of the most powerful human on earth being lost in a park was priceless. "any specific monuments or something that i can head to?"
"there's a big field-"
"again, baby, this is a park. look, i'm just gonna do the thing. if you can't find us from that, you might need to rethink your career choice." megumi stifles a snicker from next to you and you abruptly hang up, cutting off the distorted protests blaring from your phone. you have a seat on the grass and megumi mirrors your position, taking your hand when you offer it to him. "just like we practiced, okay?" he sighs impatiently, but you knew it wasn't you he was irritated with. "alright, i'll go first and then you add on to me, yeah?"
stretching your neck from side to side, you close your eyes and slowly channel more cursed energy until it engulfs your entire body. soon, you feel megumi's faint but determined aura bump against yours. after less than a minute, instinct tells you that satoru received your beacon and you look over your shoulder to see him strolling casually across the lawn. he's tall enough that, when he finally stands above you and megumi, he blocks out most of the sun. you can barely see his eyes, but you know he can see the exasperation on your face. he merely beams at you like you produced the oxygen he was breathing.
"found you."
"took you long enough." he effortlessly pulls you up from the ground and you stumble, nearly slamming into his chest. "where did you end up going, anyway?"
"there's an old daycare center towards the back of the park. sensed something there and wanted to kill it before it bothered us," he explains, humming when you brush your fingers over the fabric covering his eyes. he delicately takes your hand and presses light kisses to your knuckles, so dotingly you'd think either of you had just come back from war. you're about to kiss him properly when a small voice clears its throat some ways below you. your face heats, suddenly remembering megumi is still there.
"are we ready to go, or should i give you two a few minutes?" satoru's jaw drops in indignancy.
"watch it, megs, or i'm gonna have satoru be the one dropping off all of your things during the school year." your hand ruffles the black spikes of his hair and he pouts.
"please don't."
"wait, what's wrong with me bringing your things?" megumi exhales tiredly like he'd clocked out of his 9-5 and walks ahead to the parking lot. you and satoru lag behind, his arm wrapped around your waist and matching his steps with yours.
"i'll explain in the car. will you be able to find it okay, lost child?" you raise your eyebrows patronizingly, putting on your best doe-eyed gaze. he scoffs, but you're not done making fun of him just yet. "whatever shall i do if you were to suddenly disappear? i may be forced to find another...suitor." you bat your eyelashes dramatically and you can see his eyes rolling behind his blindfold.
"ha, ha. very funny." his hands ever so slightly squeeze the flesh around your hip and you jump. "now i know how it feels when i start reciting shakespeare over minor inconveniences." you laugh and melt a little when his thumb draws apologetic little circles on your waist. god, he's so in love with you.
"i'm surprised you didn't start monologuing on the phone. it worried me."
"you don't ever need to worry about finding me because i'll always come back."
"you promise?"
"on the moon and the stars."
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prompt is from @youneedsomeprompts because coparenting megumi inspiration comes and goes from my mind like an endangered species :))
hope you enjoyed ! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated <3
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luveline · 9 months
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What about Eddie comforting sunshine reader? Like she’s worried they’ll break up bc of how different they are
thank you for your request! —you worry that you and eddie are too different to last. he changes your mind. fem!reader, fluff + hurt/comfort, 1.3k
"Can I turn this?" Eddie asks. 
You look up from your nails as soon as you can, meeting Eddie's eyes before following his hand and gaze to the rearview mirror. 
"Yeah, 'course you can. I'll turn it back." 
Eddie nods appreciatively and turns your rearview to face him in the passenger seat. His van can't make big trips without blowing a gasket or springing a leak, leaving you behind the wheel of your slightly less dilapidated Escort for tonight's excursion. 
You tear your attention from him to put the brush back into your precariously balanced nail polish and crank down the window, airing out the fumes. Eddie hasn't complained about the smell. He complains about lots of things, but never you. 
That doesn't mean he isn't thinking those complaints, though.
The longer he goes without chastising you, the more you worry. Eventually, you're going to irritate him. You'll be too loud, too saccharine, too much. 
"Got your glitters?" he asks, pulling down the soft skin under his eye, eyeliner pencil poised at his waterline 
"What?" 
Eddie pencils eyeliner under his bottom lashes. "For your nails." 
You watch him draw a messy line. He knows what he wants and after a handful of seconds he's rubbing it out with his pinky fingertip and moving to his other eye. 
"Sweetheart?" Eddie asks. 
"What?" 
Eddie stops drawing on his eyeliner to look at you with fond puzzlement. "Is something wrong?" 
He looks casually cool in his way. Dark hair darker in the evening light, pale skin blown out and his eyes big and sugary. You look at him and feel melted by your affection for him, wanting to reach out and wrap a ringlet of his hair around your finger teasingly, or pet the slope of his cheek with the back of your hand. 
Especially when he's asking you questions like that, delivered without any grandeur. 
"No, I don't think so. Why, is something wrong with you?" You lean back in your chair and close your eyes. "I'm tired already. We need to stop making late night plans." 
"We could get a motel if you don't wanna drive again tonight." You don't see Eddie turn back to his make up, assuming he does when the weight of his gaze is alleviated, and his words come out distractedly slow, "I know that there's… something bothering you. Tell me what it is so I can kiss it better." 
"You'd like that, Munson," you tease. 
"I'd really like that. It would be the highlight of my night." 
There's a wooden plink of the pencil being dropped and the plastic sound of the glove compartment being opened and quickly closed. You spy through barely parted lashes as Eddie leans across the console, eyes widening to look down your nose while he draws ever closer. 
He kisses you quickly, misaligned but well-meaning. 
"Tell me what's wrong and I'll make it worth it," Eddie promises. He's flirting now, the cadence of his voice rougher, his brows lifting ever so slightly. "Is it something serious?" 
"Not really," you say, leaning back as his hand finds your hip, and his index finger slides under the hem of your t-shirt. 
He draws a ticklish circle. "You know I wanna hear it? Whatever it is…" His middle finger joins his index, then his whole hand is under your shirt and sliding across your naked stomach. 
You laugh and clamp a hand down on him. "It's stupid, and it'll sound stupider out loud." 
"Nice, I like stupid shit. If you don't tell me we'll just have to play hooky in your cold car all night and miss the show." He says it like that's more than alright in his book —he makes playing hooky sound like staying at the Ritz.
He pulls you as close to him as he can considering your impossible seats and brings his free hand to your neck. "If you tell me, I'll give you one of those massages you just hate," he offers quietly, the slightest dip of salaciousness all but smothered in concern. 
You won't torture him, even if admitting what's wrong will make you feel like you're standing naked by the side of the I-64. 
"Do you ever worry that me and you are too different?" you ask. 
"Too different?" he repeats, giving your hip a mindless squeeze. "I've never worried that, no." 
"Just 'cos, you're all– you like rock shows 'n' macabre movies. You hate the radio, you say that the colour yellow gives you a headache–" 
"I don't hate yellow." 
"You squint when I wear my yellow sweatshirt." 
Eddie nods severely. "Well, you figured us out. We should break up now, before we get any more serious." He lifts your chin with his thumb and guides your face to his for a kiss. "You don't mind rock shows," he says against your lips, tip of his thumb stroking a short, soft line. 
"I like 'em 'cos they make you happy." 
"That's why I don't hate the radio, either. I don't like half of the stuff they play, but I leave it on because I," —his lips move to the corner of your lips, dipping in for a kiss and then sitting back in his seat— "love to watch you." 
"What, when I do my Madonna impression?" you ask jokingly. 
Eddie's answering smile is far from joking. "I love all your impressions. I love everything you do, all that shit that makes us different are just reasons I like you. Your long stories, your magazine quizzes, your glittery nails. I really like your nails." 
"You do?" you ask. 
"It's nice when you ask me what colours to use, and you make a really cute face when you put the glitter on with a toothpick." He scrunches his eyes. "Like this." 
You laugh, startled. "That's me?" 
"That's you." Eddie brings both hands to your face and presses his thumbs to the apple of your cheeks. He turns your head gently from left to right. "Do you think we're too different?" 
"Kind of. What if you get tired of it, you know? What if one day you look over and you think, fuck, I wish the radio would just break already?" 
Eddie laughs with a giggle bordering ecstatic, a matching smile playing over his pretty mouth. "That's not going to happen!" he says through it, thumbs rubbing a steady back and forth into your cheeks. "I'm never going to look at you and think that. The only stuff I think about when I look at you is how I fucking worship you, baby." 
You turn your cheek indulgently into his hand, like the girls in the chick flicks with the handsome movie stars. He doesn't look like the average leading man, but all the things that disqualify him for pop movies are the things that drew you in —his unruly curls, his dark tattoos, the funny way he smirks like he's the only one who knows a scandalous secret. 
He smiles at you now like you know the secret too. 
"Let's stay different," Eddie says, hands falling to yours to give them a shake. "We only need one thing in common." 
You lean over the console. He's right, you decide, as his soft lips press against the seam of your own, encouraging you to part them gently. Your noses press together, Eddie's hand sliding up your forearm, that common thing sewn into each millimetre of movement and every second of his kiss. The only thing you need to be the same between you is how you feel about one another. 
Plus, he worships you? 
You hook an arm behind his head and pull him closer. Your twin smiles make it hard to kiss, but you keep trying.
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sxmmer-cherry · 12 days
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❝AND AMIDST IT ALL; MY BEAUTY PREVAILS.❞
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𓍯 OVERTURE — it is said that aphrodite appears differently to all those who have the pleasure of bearing witness to her divine presence. and when such is the case, your lovers are a bit confused whether you are truly just as ordinary as them, or the goddess of beauty, aphrodite, herself? more simply, your lover and their small fixations when it comes to you.
𓍯 FEATURING — all genshin men + fatui harbingers
𓍯 AUTHOR'S NOTE — confession time for the genshin men!! no tw.
🦋—masterlist. —the author. —leave a note. —navigate.
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𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO DIE TO SEE THE WAY YOUR EYES FLUTTER. who purposely tell you cool facts or surprising things they're sure you'll take a liking to or find bizarre and then wait patiently to see the way your eyebrows arch slightly and your eyes widen, your eyelashes fluttering in the moment. who love seeing you wear eye makeup and add their own small additions. who sometimes just sit next to you and stare at you, but by the time you turn, they're looking away.
— who just know you'll blush and start overthinking if you catch them staring and ruin the moment. who stay quiet to admire your beauty in peace. who are in love with your wandering gaze that seems to be so close yet distant. who love your sleepy and dreamy look— as though you're here yet somewhere far away. who like the intensity and depth of your eyes, who love the way they seem to take in everything and yet remain free of any external influence and maintain a serenity of their own.
AL HAITHAM, DILUC, TIGHNARI
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO ARE IN LOVE WITH YOUR CUPID'S BOW. who lean in randomly and stare at it up close, often getting blamed that they're teasing you when it is clear as day to them how unfair you're being with them with those tempting lips. who just run their thumb along its outline and peck it first before leaning in to kiss properly. who like the cherry shade of your lip gloss; who love it when you apply that cream on your lips before going to sleep that makes your lips so kissable in the morning.
— men who are completely incapable of understanding how you cannot perceive your silent beauty. who don't get it when you say you aren't that pretty. who would love to point out that pretty bow first of all things they love about you— who love it when you understand their hyper fixation but only end up laughing, and well, respecting their wishes silently and taking good care of your lips.
AYATO, LYNEY, WRIOTHESLEY, CAPITANO
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO THINK YOUR FRECKLES ARE CONSTELLATIONS on the infinite expanse of the sky of your skin. who just stare at them sometimes and, with your permission, randomly connect dots to make silly constellations and give them sillier names— all in the name of making you laugh, but it is actually them who gets the better side of the deal; they get to look at your freckles up close! who feel a tiny bit disappointed when they lean in to kiss and you blush crazy and your freckles seem to blend in with the redness. who kiss you exactly there and call you an idiot when you try to hide them with makeup.
— men who tried painting you once, but instead of colouring your skin, filled in a cosmic array, and constellations in place of those freckles they love so much. who are genuinely in love with your small features and love it when you let them stare in silence. who like it when you let them run their finger across them. who love it when you're vulnerable and at peace with them.
ITTO, KAZUHA, XINGQIU
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO THINK YOU HAVE GOLDEN HANDS. who sometimes just stare at them when you're typing or cooking or even turning a page and observe the fluidity in their movement. who love how your hands seem to know their way around everything— be it a brush, a pencil, a needle or even a ladle. who think of your talents and realize everything you are best at have your golden hands at play. who like holding your hand and applying moisturizer on it sometimes as they talk to you at late hours of the night. who feel your slightly visible veins, your long fingers and their smooth, quick movements.
— who love buying you adornments for your hands. who randomly bring you rings or bracelets. who like to put them on your hands themselves and love the way you smile afterwards. who love taking your comparatively small hands in their larger, warmer ones and just holding them in place. who still think about that one time you told them that the only time your hands are at rest is when they are holding it and now they hold them whenever they ask you to take a break.
ALBEDO, GOROU, THOMA, DOTTORE
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO THINK YOU HAVE A VERY HARMONIOUS FACE. who sometimes just stare at you and think you're royalty— who look at your wide forehead— the mark of a scholar— your high cheekbones —a rarest yet regal feature— your sharp, arrow-like nose —which they admittedly, really love— and your oval face. who think your features coexist peacefully, but not just peacefully— in a very regal manner. blue blood, they sometimes call it, but they mean it only in the sense that your facial structure is rarely found.
— men who sometimes imagine you in heavy jewellery. who imagine you wearing a nose pin, then studs but then think that no, you'd look so much better in a heavier, longer earring. then add a pearl necklace in the mix and then imagine you in it and then blush so hard you're asking them if they are sick. funnily enough, just the imagination of it makes them so desperate they go to the jeweller's shop the very next day to have a custom designed piece they just imagined. who love it when you wear it and let them kiss you in it.
BAIZHU, NEUVILLETTE, ZHONGLI, PANTALONE
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO LOVE YOUR SHOULDERS. who love it when you wear those mini dresses and then put a coat over it. who love only being able to glance slightly at them and being made desperate to stare at them fully, without any obstructions. who also love being the only one being granted access to it. who love pressing kisses down your shoulder blade and then go up your neck again and then giggle throughout, their love apparent in their adoration.
— men who love it when you wear chokers and necklaces. who love blue sapphire and pearl on you. who like being made to feel special when you randomly wear them and then remind them that it's just for them. who kiss you then, and then say thank you. who buy you necklaces, the prettiest ones, and make you wear it and love the cute smile you pass them onwards. who like nuzzling their face in your nape and pressing down on it and making you blush despite being completely red themselves.
KAEYA, HEIZOU, VENTI
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO THIRST FOR THE SIGHT OF YOUR ANKLES LIKE A DEPRAVED VICTORIAN MAN. who just stare at them when you're in the process of wearing your pants or switching cloths and then just stare at your ankles. who like your legs so much they randomly run their hands across them when they're next to you. who think you have very pretty legs and feet overall but don't know how to express that without being creepy.
— so they just message your legs after a long day! who take your favourite oils and apply them on your legs and talk to you. who end the session with a quick peck on your thigh and make you blush. who just buy you anklets from time to time and make you sit down and stretch your leg out for them. who very gently put it on your feet. who admire it for a while and when they look up, find you blushing. who take care of you and express their adoration at last— only to find they were being so obvious you thought it was just an unaddressed fact.
— men who take extra care not to be that obvious from next time but can't help it when it comes to you anyways.
AETHER, KAVEH, CHILDE
𓍯 GENSHIN MEN WHO ADORE YOUR HAIR. who think they're like a unicorn's mane or a lion's even— regal and beautiful. who like seeing you adopt new hairstyles or dyeing it in new colours. who love it when you randomly style them with feathers or flowers and smile at you fondly. who really want you to be pretty and confident and search up the best tips for good hair care and keep them at their disposal should you ever ask them. who braid your hair when sitting idle, who hate it when you're cutting your hair and can't bear to look at the fallen soldiers.
— men who always compliment you for it. men who love it even more when you smile and silently accept it with a grateful kiss. whose hearts combusted with joy when they saw you sitting in the veranda, with their mother— the two people they love most— and getting your hair oiled and braided as you talked to her about your day. who buy you pretty scrunchies and leave them on your dressing table. who do more than half of the morning duties, despite your protests, so that you can do some hair care for the day.
CYNO, XIAO, WANDERER
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sorcerous-caress · 6 months
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So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.
Dealing with a Teacher Tav
[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]
[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]
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Gale
He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.
Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.
Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.
He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.
Shadowheart
She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.
She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?
One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.
Laezel
Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.
You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?
Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?
Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.
Wyll
As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.
The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.
Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.
You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.
He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."
You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.
Karlach
Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.
In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.
She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?
Astarion
You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.
It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.
Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.
Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.
Halsin
Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.
But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.
Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.
Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.
Minthara
As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.
Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.
....it's not as bad as she imagined.
She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.
But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.
Jaheira
Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.
Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.
A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.
If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.
Minsc
Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.
Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.
You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.
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tteokdoroki · 3 months
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so jock yuuji and weird girl reader right? am i right?
weird girl who is the one who initiates any form of hostility. jocks arent jerks by defaults, yuuji definitely not. weird girl sees the world in popular / unpopular, uninteresting / interesting, pretty / meaningful, and general black / white thinking. extremes.
yuuji would just have no idea any of this is going on. like why is she mad at me. i wanted to ask her about the keychain on her bag. whyd she accept my follow request but not follow me back.
i love the dynamic of jaded reader x clueless blorbo!!! where they are both somewhat attracted to eachother the more they observe eachother around campus, but one pulls closer and the other pushes him away!!
jock yuuji def hangs out in the gymnasium instead of going to class btw. plays music out loud on his speakers thru the halls. if u even care. he carries around one of those big ass water bottles and he never got a backpack w him. just showing up to econ with nothing but a drawstring bag of ground down pencils and vibes
𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #9. first meetings.
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about. a scenario in which the campus’ favourite jock lays eyes on his future freaky girlfriend for the first time.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, meet cute, jock bf!itadori, weird gf + fem!reader.
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imagine yuuji signing up to one of your classes and he kinda makes a fool of himself on the first day. like he shows up late because practice ran over, his laptop his dead and he doesn’t have a pen but your professor (and it’s taken like two years for you to have gotten on his good side) just lets it SLIDE !!! so you’ve already got your back up with yuuji — thinking he’s some dumb jock here to mess around in your class !!!
he takes the seat right next to you of course, introduces himself to you with a sunshine smile that keeps on burning even when you cut your eyes at him and ignore the poor guy. yuuji even goes as far as to ask you for a pen half way through the lecture — and your heart stops when your fingers brush as you pass one to him. he’s a stupid jock, you remind yourself, he’s probably just making fun of you.
the pink haired jock never leaves you alone after that day!! he says hi to you in the halls at dorms he visits or on the way to the library — his music playing obnoxiously through the speaker he carries even when the librarian politely tells him to quiet down.
yuuji sits with you at study cubicles every week even though you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with him — but he follows you on Instagram, and asks you for notes from your shared classes, texts you about the socials coming up (even though you never go to them). and even though you think that he’s annoying… itadori is charming in a way.
he’s good to his friends, knows all of his teachers by name, he even studies hard — despite you thinking that he doesn’t.
maybe you misjudged itadori, maybe you were a little too harsh.
maybe you’re starting to think better of him, and he can kind of tell when wave him over to sit next to you during class and lend him the same pen you gave him when you’d first met.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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bakubunny · 4 months
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@dcsiremc you started this with your lil, “better run along, daddy’s waiting,” nonsense, so eat up.
tw: jealous!izuku, f!reader, aged up characters, daddy as title, mild degradation, mild breath play, exhibition, reader is called puppy, katsuki loves to instigate bs
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your cheeks grew hot the moment katsuki’s hand lightly rested on your shoulder unnecessarily. he was hovering over you, answering a question you had about a case file. izuku cleared his throat from across the work room. you immediately pulled away from katsuki, who was looking back at izuku with a smug grin, unbeknownst to you. he watched as a vein bulged in izuku’s neck.
fuck, this is too easy, he thought. katuski knew how possessive izuku was and how easily he got jealous, especially when it came to you. he’d been doing this kind of shit all day - standing a little too close, speaking a little too softly so you’d have to lean in, taking one too many glances at your body when you weren’t looking - in an effort to set izuku off for the hell of it.
the final straw was when it was just the three of you in the agency. you were in front of the microwave. katsuki walked over and brushed his hand on the small of your back, hovering there as you froze while he reached around you to grab a coffee mug. you heard a pencil snap and a chair roll against the floor as izuku stood up.
“need something, kacchan?” tension laced his tone of voice.
katsuki looked at him in bewilderment. “no? just wanted a cup,” he said, holding the only other all might mug in the office in his hand.
you kept your head down as izuku walked over.
“then why the fuck are you touching my girl again?” izuku spat. he shoved katsuki’s shoulder.
“izu, stop-”
“shut the fuck up, brat, i’m dealing with you next,” he said.
katsuki bit back a grin. “tch. dunno what’s gotten into you but you need to chill.” izuku got in his face.
“keep your hands and your eyes to yourself, and i will. and you,” he said, turning your direction. izuku grabbed your bicep. “you just gonna let him do that when you know good and well who owns you? hmm?”
you froze, unsure of how he expected you to respond.
“answer me, pup,” he said quietly, leaning in to look you in the eyes.
katsuki’s grin broke and he snorted. your body grew hot.
“n-no, sir,” you whispered.
you flinched when his grip tightened.
“then what should you do?” his voice was as soft as he could manage, but the look on katsuki’s face told you he heard izuku’s every word.
“go to you.”
“that’s right,” izuku said.
izuku dragged you to the table where katsuki now sat with a plate of food for his lunch break. he took a fistful of your hair and pulled hard.
“ow! what are you doing?”
“reminding you of what’s mine. bend over. now.” he pressed your face into the table in front of the smug, blonde hero.
“are you crazy?” you asked. heat rushed to your core as izuku pinned one arm behind your back and grabbed the other to hold both of your hands tightly in one of his.
“you wanna play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. you know daddy doesn’t like to share,” he said. he lifted your skirt and ran his fingers along your panties, already more damp than you’d wanted to admit.
“izuk-”
your breath caught as a thick finger slipped into your cunt. his skilled hand rubbed into your spongy sweet spot in a way that made you flutter around him, closing your eyes and biting back a whine. you tried to turn your face away from the grinning man you knew was staring down at you.
“no, no, don’t be shy,” izuku said. “you wanna be a brat and whore yourself out right in front of me, you’re gonna let kacchan see your pretty face when i make you cry.”
a whimper slipped off your lips. izuku pushed a second finger into you. he pumped harder and faster, the messy sound audible as you moaned.
“yeah, that’s what i fucking thought.” he leaned into your ear. “you’re just a dumb puppy, need to be put in your place. too stupid to know any better without my help.”
your cheeks burned as katsuki snickered, seeming unphased by what he was doing.
“open.”
izuku shoved slick covered fingers into your mouth to clean off before pulling your panties down. he made quick work of unbuckling his belt and freeing his heavy cock. you cried out when he pushed into your cunt with a single thrust, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from overwhelming girth as he set a hard pace. the breath was knocked out of your lungs as he fucked you, a cold sweat forming on your skin as your body tried to adjust.
“izu, fuc- ah! it h-hurts,” you whined.
izuku’s hips slapped harder and faster into yours. “stop bitching, i know you can take it. take it like a good girl. take my fucking cock.”
the lump in your throat burned from the mix of pain and overwhelming pleasure rapidly overtaking your body. tears fell down your cheeks when a hard smack hit your ass and you groaned. katsuki looked down at you with a sickening grin as he ate.
“tch. dinner and a show. at least you’re good for somethin’,” he said.
izuku grunted. he let go of your arms and moved a hand to grip your hip. his free arm worked its way under and around your neck as his bicep flexed. your eyes rolled with his thrust at a slightly different angle, dragging his cock head along your sweet spot at a blinding pace.
“hear that? even kacchan knows where you belong,” izuku said, his warm breath fanning your skin.
you made a pitiful attempt at pulling on izuku’s tightening arm, the size of him and the strength of his hold only making the sound of your wet cunt sloppy and lewd as you clenched hard around his cock. lightheadedness trickled in as gurgling moans added to the disgusting slew of humiliating noises your body made.
“‘zuku-”
“nuh uh, baby. who owns this pussy? who do you belong to?” he growled.
a shudder rolled down your back. you gasped as his grip loosened slightly. “daddyy-”
“say it again.” izuku’s lips grazed your ear.
“d-daddy, fuck, daddy,” you whined, drool pooling in the corner of your mouth.
his fingers dug into your hip hard enough to bruise.
“that’s it, puppy. better keep it up til you fucking cum. wanna hear you tell me that when you cum for me,” he said.
with your head spinning, the coil in your belly felt ready to snap as you nearly came undone. izuku’s balls clapped against your clit, sparks of tingling pleasure in your body as he moved, fucking you hard and deep. the sound of your slurred, pathetic voice crying out over and over as your legs shook made him groan.
“gonna make - shit - make me cum, fuck,” izuku said. c’mon, i know you’re close. be a good fuck toy and cum on my cock.”
“daddy, ah-”
you moaned and trembled when your orgasm came crashing down in white hot pleasure as you pushed your hips into his thrusts. izuku fucked you through it as his own hit, filling you with his hot cum with a growl.
“fuck, that’s it, milk my cock dry…. s’ a good girl….”
izuku groaned again before kissing your head as you came down from bliss. you could already feel wet heat trickling down your thighs. katsuki’s grin told you he was never going to let you live this down.
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆
one month later
you stood at katsuki’s desk, clarifying something about his recently submitted case file, feeling the weight of izuku’s eyes on you as he answered you. katsuki glanced in his direction and smirked.
“better run along. daddy’s waiting.”
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lonelym00n · 11 months
Text
You stole my heart (but you're too young)
Sam Carpenter x Reader
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Word Count: 5.2k
Summary: Sam thinks you deserve better than her, you couldn't disagree more.
Warnings: Nothing? Age gap but everything is legal (I left it up to interpretation but Sam is like 26 while R is 20ish). Kissing, if that's a warning.
A/N: Based off of this! Marrying my love for music with the scream franchise one fic at a time <3!! This one uses Tyler the Creator's song, Fucking Young/Perfect!
Day that I met you girl, knew that it was something special
With heavy footsteps and a yawn, Sam Carpenter made her way up the endless stairs leading to her apartment. Her boots thudded against each step particularly loudly today, a direct result of the ache in her legs that came with working a shift for not just one of her shitty jobs, but both of them.
At long last, she approached the door that signaled she’d finally made it through her tiring day. Sam momentarily struggled with opening the series of locks on the door- as it turns out, unlocking a door is especially hard when balancing her work bag and two boxes of pizza. 
She manages to unlock and open the door eventually, and steps into the comfort of the apartment. Like a hot shower after an extra hard gym session, her overworked mood fades away at the warmth of her home. 
Sam calls out a greeting and makes her way over to the table, setting down the pizza. Her bag is tossed onto the nearest chair, and once her hands are empty, she takes a moment to roll out her tense shoulders, groaning softly.
After some long overdue stretching, she shuffles towards the living room to announce the arrival of the pizza and to take a mental note of the apartment’s occupants. She’d heard Tara speaking with someone when she’d walked in, but had a greater need to first set her belongings down, and then engage in her daily check-in of how her sister’s day had gone.
“Tara,” Sam calls out before rounding the corner that leads to the living room, “The pizza’s here.”
Tara’s sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers, two different notebooks, and a few pencils. Her laptop is propped up in front of her. To her sister’s right sits a girl Sam has never seen before and she pauses slightly at the sight. 
Tara huffs at her notebook and lets the pen she’d been holding fall out of her grasp. She looks up at Sam.
“Thank god,” she whines dramatically, “I needed a break.”
The small girl stands, lightly brushing herself off. Tara turns toward your seated form.
“Come on, pizza time.” The girl’s scarred hand enters your vision, breaking your intense concentration by offering some help in standing up. 
You take it gratefully, letting her pull you up. 
Sam, who’d been sneaking glances at you throughout the whole interaction, sucks in a breath now that she can fully make out your features. Your eyes twinkle and your preferred style of clothing suits you perfectly. You’re effortlessly beautiful, and Sam is utterly captivated by the allure that you exude.
She’s snapped out of her slight daze at the sound of Tara’s voice.
“Sam, this is Y/N. We have Chemistry Lab together.”
You wave, wiggling your fingers slightly as you do so. A tiny smile is on your lips and she swears you’re batting your eyelashes up at her, either that or her tired mind is playing tricks on her. Probably the latter.
“Hi Sam, it’s great to meet you.”
She hates the way your smooth, sweet-sounding voice almost causes her to let out a shudder. You stretch out a hand and suddenly she’s nervous, hoping her own aren’t too rough like they sometimes could be.
She meets you halfway, ensuring she’s extra gentle about clasping her fingers around yours. The contact has a spark shooting up her spine, and she clenches her jaw to bite back the gasp that almost escaped.
She clears her throat, “It’s nice to meet you too.”
You pull away, and her hand almost feels cold at the lack of warmth. All too suddenly, Tara’s quickly pulling you towards the waiting pizza.
Sam stays rooted to her spot, rapidly trying to process the sudden pounding in her chest. The light laughter trailing from the dining table knocks her out of her stupor. She blinks and retreats to her bedroom to take a much needed shower, hoping it’ll not only help lull her into a more relaxed state, but clear her mind too.
She sets the water to the hottest temperature and strips out of her soiled clothes. A small hum slips out of her chest when the scalding water makes contact with her body. She stays in the shower longer than necessary, and throws on a tanktop and shorts when she exits.
The apartment is quiet when she resurfaces from her room. The digital clock on the oven reads 11:27 PM, and she ignores the small pang in her chest that rises up at the realization that you’ve likely returned to your own home by this time. 
Sam heads over to the dinner table where the pizza boxes (thankfully) still sit, grateful that Tara only had one friend over tonight because it meant there was still plenty of food leftover for her to eat. As much as she loved Mindy and Chad, they had a habit of eating first and being considerate second. It’d left Sam to have to scrounge up a meal for herself on several different occasions, but she cared more that everyone was eating and getting fed, so she never complained. Besides, she’d always put the twins and Tara before herself, the older girl felt the strong need to protect them because of the hell that they’d gone through together back in Woodsboro.
Tara pads into the kitchen while Sam’s polishing off her second slice of pizza.
“How was work?”
Sam swallows the last piece of crust, then answers. “Long, boring.”
The younger girl nods. “Thanks again for getting the pizza. By the way, sorry I didn’t tell you about Y/N coming over, it was kind of a last minute thing. She offered to help me with the pre-lab.”
Sam shrugs, “No big deal.” Then, cautiously, “She seems nice.”
A small smile pulls at Tara’s lips, “She is, super smart and funny too. You should see her and Mindy together, they’re hilarious.”
Sam unknowingly files the new found information away. She hums, “I bet.”
“Actually, I invited her to game night tomorrow. Are you gonna be home in time?”
Every Friday night the sisters hosted some kind of get together, whether it be a movie night, craft night, or their most recent obsession, a game night.
Sam mentally runs through her schedule, luckily enough she didn’t have a shift at the bar, so she’d be home by six.
“I get off at 5:30, so yeah.”
Tara smiles, “Good, you could use some fun.”
Sam rolls her eyes and lightly punches Tara’s shoulder, “I have fun!”
The shorter girl laughs, “Keep telling yourself that.”
The two girls share a brief hug before Tara heads to bed. 
Sam tucks the leftover pizza into the fridge, double checks the locks on the door, and goes to her room. She climbs into bed and burrows into her pillows. She drifts away with the quiet excitement of getting to see you again tomorrow.
We met through mutual friends and this is where the story and confusion began // ‘Cause I was at Nirvana but I had to pretend that I wasn’t
Tara was right, you and Mindy were hilarious together, Sam can’t stop herself from chuckling at your shared antics.
“Uno,” you smirked. 
Mindy slammed her hands down on the table, narrowing her eyes, “There’s no way! You have to be cheating!”
You lean towards Mindy, whispering teasingly, “Sorry to break it to you, but I’m just that good.”
Mindy grumbles. “Someone hit her with a plus four, for the love of God.”
You laugh heartily. 
Tara plays, then Chad, Anika, Ethan, and Quinn take their turns.
“None of you had anything?” Mindy asks incredulously.
She has a skip, but with Sam sitting between the two of you, it wouldn’t be useful to play it. She groans and throws down a yellow two.
“Do something Sam, she can’t win again.”
Sam laughs and scans through her cards. She has a pretty good hand, and surprisingly a few different cards that could stop you from winning. The card she chooses to play, however, is a simple five.
What? It’s not like she wanted you to win or anything, she just liked seeing Mindy lose.
Dramatically, you slam your hand down on the top of the pile, ridding yourself of your last card and giggling gleefully as you go. 
“You had a wild card as your last card?!”
You smile so brightly at Mindy that Sam’s sure the other girl might go blind.
“Read it and weep, Meeks!”
“I hate you!”
There’s some brief discussion on which game should be played next, and everyone agrees when Quinn suggests Pictionary. 
“Let’s do it in pairs,” Chad chimes in, throwing his arm around Tara.
“I get to pick first, since I won!” You gloat.
You scan the members of the table, searching for whoever would be best to assist you in scoring another win. When your eyes land on Sam, you know exactly who to pick to secure your victory. Plus, you might’ve been harboring a secret crush on the girl, so it’d double as a good bit of bonding.
“Wanna join me, Sam?”
She gulps, but nods rather furiously. Her words come out so quick, she nearly stumbles over them altogether. “Yeah, yeah count me in.”
You grin at her and her heart flutters. 
Tara and Chad pair up, and Mindy chooses Quinn, which Anika snorts at. She and Ethan happily team up, even though the choice was out of their hands.
The game goes exactly as you thought it would, with you and Sam in the lead by two points.
“Suck it Mindy, another point for us!”
Mindy fights back a scream of frustration, “You’re only winning because of Sam!”
You shoot her a cheeky grin, “Yup I know! I’m not afraid to admit that she’s carrying our team, it still means I’m winning!” 
You place a hand on Sam’s bicep, patting it softly as if you’re thanking it for its drawing skills.
Okay, so maybe you’d been dying to feel the hard muscle, watching it flex as she sketched out each prompt, but that was for you to know and you alone.
“Sammy’s unstoppable, so glad that I have such an amazing partner.”
Everyone laughs, with the exception of Mindy who glares. Sam is eternally grateful for her tan skin, because it hides the blush that erupts on her cheeks at both the nickname and the compliment.
You and Sam win. You cheer and hop out of your seat, dragging Sam up with you. You dance around while she grins, just watching you. Suddenly, you’re leaning up to throw your arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for a victory hug. When Sam’s hands land on your waist to return the embrace, it’s as if time slows. She’s completely engulfed in the scent of your flowery perfume and it makes her head spin deliciously. You’re so warm against her, and she can’t ignore how the two of you fit together so perfectly. It feels right to have you in her arms, and the thought scares her slightly.
When you pull away, she swears that her heart goes with you. 
You flop back into your seat to gloat at Mindy a second time. Sam sits gingerly. She feels anxious, like one of her friends might be able to see how the rhythm of her heart shifted during the hug to match the pace of yours. 
She wasn’t used to this feeling. When she was with Richie, he never made her feel things so intensely. And god, this was all because of a hug? A hug with one of Tara’s friends, no less.
Sam sank further back into her chair, realizing how utterly fucked she was. 
Now me and she held hands and we danced, nothing more // She kissed my hand a couple times, FaceTime when we’re bored
You were a frequent visitor to the Carpenter’s apartment after the game night. You’d find any excuse to come over, whether it be helping Tara with chemistry or gossiping over a cheap bottle of wine with Quinn. 
Tonight was one of those nights, where you and Quinn were sipping wine in between exchanging stories. Both you and the redheaded girl were sophomores whereas everyone else in the group were still freshmen. It helped having someone to recount the horrors of the frat-obsessed days with, and Quinn was nice enough to drop by the corner store to supply the wine, so it was always a welcome occasion to spend some time with the other girl.
Normally it was just the two of you, since Tara was usually off with one of the twins or Anika and Sam was almost always preoccupied by work.
Today though, was one of those rare dares where the older girl ended her work day early. She’d already finished a shift and gone to therapy, so with nothing else to do, she headed home.
Upon noticing that you were in the apartment, Sam tried her best to keep her distance. Her plan was to hide inside the walls of her bedroom and drown out the lovely sound of your laughter with some TV, but it was quickly spoiled by Quinn.
“Sam, you’re here! Come sit with us.”
She smiled nervously and made her way over to the couch. Quinn was of course already taking up the lone chair, so she was left to join you on the loveseat. 
Ever the observer, Sam’s dark eyes took in the flush that rested in both yours and Quinn’s face, and the half-empty bottle of wine. 
A light slur fills Quinn’s voice, “Y/N was just about to tell me about this girl she met last year.”
Sam’s ears perk up, and she turns to fully face you. Her knee bumps into yours as she shifts to be more comfortable, her skin burning where it had made contact with yours.
You snort out a laugh, “She was kind of cute, I guess. I met her at some bar. She was tall, and like lean, and totally my type and all so I started giving her little signs to buy me a drink or something.”
Sam’s nostrils flare at the talk of your attraction for this girl. Her dark eyes are boring into you, tracing over your entire body while you speak.
“She came up to me and started flirting pretty heavily and then out of nowhere, some guy came up to us and threw his arm around her shoulder. It was weird ‘cuz she just kept flirting with me and then he started flirting too and then all of a sudden they told me they wanted a threesome.”
Quinn laughs hard, leaning over to shove your shoulder. The alcohol has made her limbs heavier, and she pushes you with a lot more force than she likely planned, toppling you over and onto Sam’s lap.
Sam reacts quickly, catching you by the waist to stop you from tumbling off the couch. She internally screams at the feeling of her hands on your bare midriff, the cropped shirt you were wearing leaving part of your lower torso uncovered. 
You squeal and break into laughter, uncaring that your limbs are now tangled up with Sam’s legs.
You make no move to readjust yourself, so she doesn’t either. The way your weight is partially leaning up against her is too good, feels too right. 
Quinn’s phone rings and she gasps, waving her phone around for you and Sam to see. “It’s Max! I gotta go, he’s the one who actually manages to get me off.” 
The girl races up to get ready.
Sam, the protective person that she is, calls out to her.
“Quinn, be careful! Take an uber or something.”
“‘Kay!”
She runs out the door, leaving the amalgamation that is you and Sam behind.
You untangle your arms from her legs and flip over to face her. Her legs open to instinctively make room for you, and you lay yourself in between them, your cheek resting on her tight core.
She’s panicking at not just the position, but your proximity. Though she had spent a considerable amount of time with you due to your recurring presence in her apartment, she’d never stopped being slightly nervous around you. She understood it was because of the feelings that she harbored, but she wished some of her usual confidence could translate over to the time she spent with you too. It was slightly embarrassing to be a clean six years older than you and still fumble around like a schoolboy. 
You turn and blink up at her from your spot on her abdomen. She stares down at you in response.
Things are still for a moment, as you look at each other, wondering what the other is thinking. 
The liquid courage helps you break the silence.
“You’re really pretty, Sam.”
She’s stunned, because she’s been called hot, even sexy on a few different occasions, but never pretty.
Her heart sits high up in her throat.
“Really?”
You nod, all soft and encouraging, and she has no choice but to believe you because you look so sure.
“You’re strong too, not just physically, but mentally. You’re caring and always look out for everyone.”
She’s not sure what brought on this onslaught of compliments, but it causes so many different emotions to rise up in her chest. She’s lost on what to say, but she doesn’t have to speak because you continue.
“Sam, you're the most selfless person I know. You do so much for other people, it’s crazy!”
She laughs lightly, but it comes out more watery than she’d planned it to be.
Your shiny eyes twinkle up at her, and you shimmy up her body so that you’re now lying on her upper chest, near her shoulder.
She could lean her head down and brush her lips against yours so, so easily. But she doesn’t.
No matter how much she wants to, she holds herself back.
And god does she want to, more than anything, because you’re looking at her with a gentleness she’s never seen before. With your eyes on her, she doesn’t feel like the schizophrenic daughter of a serial killer who’s rumored to have covered up a series of murders. She doesn’t feel broken, or like the mistake that tore her family apart. You’re looking at her like she’s whole and like she’s worth something good. 
She knows that if she kisses you, she’ll probably never be able to stop, because you’re everything that someone like Sam Carpenter needs.
Loyal, loving, uplifting.
But she’s scared, because every good thing she’s ever had, she’s broken. She couldn’t risk bringing that upon you, because it’s you and you don’t belong on the long list of people who have gotten hurt because of her.
You’re too good, too perfect, too fucking young. 
Her heart hurts. As much as she needs you, she won’t let herself have you.
As if you’re able to hear her internal battle, you continue your previous thought, “You do so much for other people, but never anything for yourself. I wish you’d do more for yourself.”
A tear slides down her cheek, but in your tipsy state, you remain blissfully unaware. Instead, you’re playing with the ends of her hair and twirling it around your fingers. You don’t even know it, but your touch comforts the vulnerable girl immensely. 
You sigh heavily, press a quick kiss to her clothed shoulder, and push yourself off of her. You stand and move to gather your stuff, clearly getting ready to leave.
“You’re leaving?” She asks, despite it being obvious that you are planning to.
Wobbling slightly, you slip your jacket over your shoulders. “Mhm, it’s late.”
She sits up and moves to stand by the door, grabbing her trusty bomber jacket. 
You tilt your head confusedly, “What are you doing?’
Sam looks at you like it’s obvious, “I’m gonna walk you home. It’s dark, you shouldn’t go alone.”
A series of giggles bubble out of your mouth, “No, you stay here Sam. Besides, if you walk me home, I’ll have to walk you home so you aren’t alone in the dark.”
She smiles despite the stupidity of it all. Then, a thought crosses her mind. She probably shouldn’t, she knows, but she can’t help herself from offering it up as an option.
“How about you spend the night here?”
Your eyes are wide, doe-like, and you pause to consider the offer. “Hmm, okay. That’s the most fair thing to do.”
Sam’s pleased with herself, glad to have found a happy medium where neither of you would have to worry about the other’s safety. 
“Take my bed for the night, I’ll do the couch.”
You shake your head vehemently. “No, no.”
You walk over to her, grab her hand, and tug her towards her bedroom. She doesn’t protest.
Once inside her bedroom, you nudge her so that she’s standing in front of her bed. 
“You sleep here, I’ll take the couch.”
She goes to argue, but you shush her.
You lift your still-joined hands and press a kiss to the top of hers.
“Goodnight, Sammy.”
You release your hold on her and shuffle out of the room. 
The next morning, she smiled at your sleeping form as she passed the couch on her way to work. 
Things shifted in your relationship after that night. Sam still told herself you two were just friends, despite the way you both acted like more. 
You started coming over to the apartment just to see her whenever she was free. The two of you would cook together, flirty comments thrown in here and there as the food was prepared. Other times you would watch a movie on the loveseat, sat so close together that your thighs touched.
When you were too busy to travel through the chaotic NYC transportation systems to visit Sam, you’d FaceTime her. Though you claimed to be bored, you both knew the real reason for the calls.
Her feelings for you grew, and yours did too. 
Though you had a sneaking suspicion that she returned your feelings, you didn’t want to pressure the older girl. She’d gone through far too much, and so you’d be patient and wait for her to come around to the idea of something more.
And when temptation calls, I never pick up
Sam’s urge to kiss you popped up a few more times.
You were always so thoughtful, she couldn’t help it.
On days when you knew she’d worked a late shift the night before, you’d appear at the door with her favorite coffee and a muffin the following morning.
You texted her nightly, reminding her to eat if she hadn’t already. 
You’d go to parties with Tara, not because you wanted to, but to keep an eye on her for Sam’s sake.
You memorized her therapy schedule and made sure to send a heart or some sweet little message right when the session ended.
Safe to say, Sam had fallen for you despite her desperate attempts not to. 
Though she was tempted to say something to you, she always made sure to hold herself back.
She was deeply traumatized and had the scars to prove it, you deserved better than someone like her, someone your age who was actively building a future for themselves instead of working two dead end jobs and struggling to afford the city’s high cost of living.
More than that, she had her younger sister to consider. She didn’t know how she could possibly tell Tara, wasn’t sure if the shorter girl would find it weird for her to be dating someone practically the same age as her.
You were just too young and it would never work out between you two because of it.
You bring me joy, joy, joy, joy and you fill a void that was once missing
Sam had been avoiding you for a while, and you were upset. You’d grown used to spending all of your time with the older girl and quite honestly, you missed her. 
So you did what any person would do and showed up on her doorstep. You were slightly nervous, Sam usually sent you her weekly schedule so you knew when she’d be working but she hadn’t this week.
You aren’t sure if you’ve done something wrong or if something has happened, but you’re sure that you’re about to find out.
Sadly, you aren't, because it’s Quinn that opens the door. 
“Oh hi, sorry I’m just looking for Sam?”
Quinn gives you a small smile, waving you in. “She’s not here, I think she’s working late at the bar tonight. You can come in and wait though.”
“Okay.” You enter the apartment and chat idly with Quinn for a bit. She shares a few stories of her recent hookups before she has to leave to attend her evening class.
You’re alone in the Carpenter’s apartment, so you decide to make yourself useful and prepare a dinner for them. They almost never had time to do so, practically living off of cheap takeout, and you’re more than happy to try to sneak in a few solid meals for them here and there.
Sam always looked at you so gratefully whenever she came home to a nice dinner, so maybe it’d get you back into her good graces. If it didn’t, at least you’d know she got some sort of nutrition in her diet.
Lucky for you, someone has gone shopping recently, so you get to work on making a spaghetti dish with a salad to go with it.
Along the way, you lose track of what you’re doing. When you’re finally finished with cooking, you realize that you’ve unconsciously set the table and dimmed the lights to create a more calming atmosphere. 
Whoops?
The apartment door opens, and in walks a very tired looking Sam. Her shoulders are hunched over, and she kicks her boots off, uncaring of where they land.
You make a small noise and she halts, snapping her head up and gasping at the sight of you and the display of food on the dining table.
“Hey Sam, sorry, Quinn let me in and I kind of got carried away but I can go if you wan-”
Her firm body slams into yours, and she wraps you up into a tight hug.
You sigh and melt into the contact, tucking your head underneath her chin. A pleased sound rumbles through her chest and she pulls you impossibly closer. 
When she pulls away, she tilts your chin up gently so that you’re looking into her eyes. The deep brown color is swirling with emotion and you’re struck by the beauty of them.
“Thank you,” she says softly, “This week has been so shitty and you just made everything better.”
Your eyebrows knit together, concernedly, “I’m sorry to hear that. Here, go sit.”
She obeys, and sits in her usual spot. You fix her a plate, making sure to grab an extra bowl so she can serve herself some salad.
You place it in front of her and move to sit across from her.
Sam eats while you make little jokes and teasing comments, and she’s sure that this is the way things are meant to be. All her troubles are pushed out of her mind. Her father’s voice is silent. The people that hate her are so momentarily insignificant she forgets they even existed in the first place.
You make her so happy, and with you, the person she was before she was attacked, before the drugs, before her father walked out on her, that person feels safe enough to come out. The piece of her that was missing returns, and it’s all because of you.
You’re washing her dishes, and carefully listening to her talk about her horrible week, and Sam finally feels herself snap.
When you’re drying your hands on the small towel that hangs beneath the sink, she’s grabbing you by the shoulders and twisting you around to face her.
“Wha-”
Her lips are on yours, no hesitation, no going back. You’re too stunned to return the kiss for a moment, but god when you finally do? It’s perfect, too perfect. Your soft lips against her slightly chapped ones drive her wild, along with the soft little gasps and groans you’re releasing. It’s everything, but she’s waited so damn long for this that it’s still somehow not enough.
Her hips are pinning yours to the sink, her hands clutching both sides of your face. It’s then that she growls lowly, bites your lip, and slips her tongue into your mouth when you moan in pleasurable pain.
Sam’s kisses are incessant, furious and intense, just like her. You want to get lost in them forever, would gladly do so.
But then, all too soon, she’s pulling back and touching her lips as if her mind has finally caught up to her actions.
You should find someone else // I’m not the one for you, shit, I’m still growing up by myself
“Wait, wait, we can’t.”
You’re still dazed, not quite sure what she means. “Huh?”
“I can’t do this, I-” She runs her hands down her face, clearly in distress.
“Sam, it’s okay, calm down.”
She shakes her head, “No, I can’t.” She continues, “I’m sorry, but this will never work. You deserve better than me.”
She’s sighing, raking a hand through her long hair, “I’m older than you, I’m fucked up. I’m not what you deserve. I don’t have anything figured out. You’re young, you should find someone else, someone your age who’ll be grown up by the time they’re my age.”
You’re frowning at her. “Sam, none of that is true.”
Boy I know that we could be more than just friends // But you’re scared
She’s scoffing, doubtful. 
But you refuse to give up so easily, “Sam, look. It doesn’t matter, okay? I don’t care that you don’t have a stupid college degree or a 9-5 job.”
She looks at you so sadly, “But you should. I’m a mess, and that’s not what you deserve. We’d never work.”
You’re frustrated. “Look, I don’t care about what I deserve! It doesn’t matter to me, not when you exist.” 
You step forward, moving into her personal space. You cup her cheek, thankful that she doesn’t move away from the touch. Your thumb strokes her skin softly while you talk, “We both know that we aren’t just friends. We could be so much more, and it would work, Sam. You’re scared, and I get why, but this is what we both want. Please don’t punish yourself for thinking I deserve more than you. You’re what I want, the only one I want.”
You lean up on your tiptoes and press a chaste kiss against her lips before pulling back.
“I love you, Sam. So much. All you have to do is let me, and I will.”
Sam searches your eyes, and finds only love looking back at her. 
She’s been selfless for so long now, maybe it’s time she started thinking about herself and what she deserves, what she wants, what she needs.
She deserves to be happy with you, she wants to, and she needs to.
So for once in her life, she stops being so worried about everyone else, and lets herself have you.
With a sweet, meaningful kiss to your lips, you get your answer.
“I love you too.”
And girl I know that you’re the one for me
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nicksolemnlyswears · 5 months
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THE MENTOR
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summary: coriolanus takes it upon himself to show you the ropes of pleasure
pairing: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! reader
word count: 4.3k
warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, fingering, female masturbation, mention of male masturbation, breast play, talks of virginity loss, perv! coriolanus, slight cum play, corruption kink is very prominent LEAVE ME ALONE IM PREDICTABLE, MY MIND IS ROTTEN
a/n: i'm back again! didn't expect it to be so soon but alas i cannot control myself. this can be read as a stand alone or as a prequel for my other one shot ways to destress. i'm working on part 2 for ways to destress but have this while i finish it <3
requests open ✨
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Coriolanus steals glances at you from his spot on the desk. You sat cross-legged on your bed, deep in thought, biting the eraser end of the pencil in your fingers. He's formulating ideas about you instead of focusing on the report he has to present to Dr. Gaul tomorrow.
It's the first time you've invited him into your family home since you became a couple four months ago, and you're all alone in the big mansion. He can't help but wonder if anything will come out of it.
Despite being in a serious relationship for four months, Coriolanus has only kissed you. Nothing more and nothing less. It was one of your conditions because he's your first boyfriend.
'Let's take things slow, Coriolanus,' you had said back then, looking at him with those puppy dog eyes you'd mastered.
You're a timid girl. It's why you've never truly had a boyfriend before. None of the other boys you've been on dates managed to coax you out of your shell enough for them to pursue the relationship, except for Coriolanus. He took his time with you, becoming your friend, gaining your trust, and finally asking you out.
It wasn't by chance that he took that route to court you. He's been watching you since you stepped into the classroom last year. The annoyance he felt about being a teaching assistant swept away as a brand new opportunity sat in front of the class like a good student.
He recognized you and the crest on the gold ring you always wear. Your family is wealthy, and they have a great reputation amongst the Capitol's elite. It would benefit him to associate himself with you and, by proxy, your family.
Coriolanus felt luck was on his side when you approached him with questions about the homework the Professor handed out. You served yourself in a silver dish platter for his hungry ambition.
One year later, he has you wrapped around his little finger.
He'd be lying if he said he doesn't have feelings for you. Just as he infiltrated your life, you infiltrated his heart. You're sweet and kind, book smart, and beautiful. He'd be a fool not to feel anything towards you.
When you groan about the essay you're supposed to write and the crease between your eyebrows deepens, Coriolanus steps in.
"It's time for a break, don't you think?" He gently asks, closing your notebook and putting it to the side.
"I guess," you sigh, looking up at him with a pout.
You've been distracting yourself from Coryo's penetrating gaze and general presence in your personal space. You had invited him with the pretense of a study date, seeing as your body asks for something else.
It's time you give Coryo more. He's been incredibly patient with you, just as you'd asked. Still, your heart pounds in your chest at the thought of him touching you like no one ever has, and the knot in your throat prevents you from saying it out loud.
Coriolanus sits on the bed with you, cupping your jaw in his hands, brushing his thumb across your cheek. You lean into his touch with a soft smile, leaning into your body's desire, and you kiss him. It's enough to spark the salacious thoughts in Coriolanus's head.
He deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue on your plump bottom lip, begging you to let him in. Just like he taught you, you open your mouth, letting his tongue lick the inside of your mouth, tasting the cherry drink you love so much.
The corners of Coriolanus's lips slightly curve upwards; he's so proud of himself and you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you, and he willingly leans into you, hugging your hips.
Finding the position mildly uncomfortable, he lifts you to straddle his lap. Immediately, you tense under his hold and pull back. It's instinctual as your thoughts suddenly surface and cause you to overthink.
"Are you alright?" Coriolanus asks you with feigned concern. He knows the reason why, but you're important to him. In his eyes, you're perfect for him, and he doesn't want to screw things up.
"I'm just nervous," you admit, diverting your gaze to his collar and fixing it.
You're tired of feeling behind in life when your friends talk about sex. You're tired of that ache inside you that you can't satiate. You're tired of pulling away each time Coryo makes any move on you when all you want is to feel his skin against yours.
It's only been a few months, but your feelings for Coriolanus Snow run deep. Many will call you a fool for falling into the claws of first love, but it's a mistake you must make on your own.
If anyone is to take your firsts, it'll be Coriolanus.
"Do you want me to stop touching you?" He asks, loosening his hold on you.
Coriolanus is ready to learn the extent of your inexperience. It's been a topic you've only briefly touched upon. Yes, you're a virgin. Has anyone touched you, though, or given you any sort of pleasure?
"No!" You exclaim too forwardly, embarrassing yourself. It spurs Coriolanus, though, as he softly grins. "I mean, no. This is okay. You can keep touching me," you say as you return his hand to its designated spot in the curve of your hips.
"Darling…" he calls, but your gaze remains on his chest as strands of hair cover your face, "Look at me."
When your eyes meet his steely blue ones, he continues, "Have you ever touched yourself?"
"Why are you asking me this?" You ask with your eyes wide and nervous.
"I just want to see how much you know and how far you want to go. I'd feel terrible if I somehow make you uncomfortable or force you into anything you don't want," he responds honestly. Keeping you close to him is his priority, and if controlling his urges is necessary, then be it.
"Oh…" you sigh. You close your eyes tightly before opening them again and responding, "Yes, I do."
"Tell me how," he says. It's not really a question but a command.
Your face burns as you disclose information that is normally private, "I, um, touch my clit."
"I see," Coriolanus nods encouragingly, squeezing your hips, "Do you think about me?" He asks teasingly, giving you a hard time.
The more he asks, the more you relax onto his body, too stuck in your head to notice.
"Sometimes," you admit with a soft smile.
Coriolanus is satisfied with your answer for now. In the future, when he asks again, he needs the answer for it to be always. He'll be halfway there by the end of the 'study date.'
"Has anybody touched you before?" It's the one question he's been most curious about.
"No," you shake your head.
Coriolanus is over the moon. His thoughts get more and more deranged with your confession as his dark side begs him to take away your innocence and corrupt you to his liking.
"Would you like me to?" He asks, grasping her jaw with two fingers to force her wandering eyes to settle on his. He hasn't even touched you properly, and you're breathing heavily. He wonders what's going on in that pretty little head of yours.
You're praising whatever god exists, thanking them for Coryo's forwardness. You don't think you could've gotten the words out otherwise.
"Yes," you answer shyly as excitement builds inside you.
With a short kiss, Coryo places you by the top of the bed, propped up by your many pillows. Your comfort is his top priority today. He wants you to come back for more, after all.
"Tell me if you want to stop," he whispers in your ear as he kisses your cheek.
Coriolanus feels your shaky breaths as he kisses down the expanse of your neck. He takes it as a good sign when you stretch it out more for him.
"Coryo," you bite back a moan when he finds your sweet spot.
He gently bites into your delicate skin, leaving a soft red mark. Coriolanus can't visibly mark you yet, or he'll cast a wrong impression on your father. So, he settles for red flowers that will disappear by morning.
His fingers expertly unbuttoned the crisp white blouse of the university's uniform. He lifts his head briefly to look at the pale pink bra that deprives him of your breasts. It's pretty and innocent, like you.
"You're beautiful, darling," he says when he spots your nervous eyes waiting for his approval.
Dipping down once more, he mouths the mounds of your breasts, leaving wet kisses on your skin. Coriolanus wraps his mouth over the cups of your bra, teasing you, introducing you to his touch.
Sitting up, he helps you shrug off the white blouse. He kisses you to distract you from his hands that wrap around you, unclasping the bra. He's pleasantly surprised with the neediness you kiss him with. Poor thing must've been wanting this for a while.
Coriolanus pushes you back down with his weight, never breaking the kiss. He slides your bra off and throws it into a corner of the room. Pulling away, he looks at your bare chest, licking his lips lustfully.
You deprive him of the sight when you insecurely cross your arms to cover yourself. It peeves Coriolanus to no end. Surely, you must know what a sight you are.
"Don't cover yourself, darling. You're beautiful," he says, grabbing one of her hands and kissing her palm.
"T-thank you," you stutter out, letting your other arm fall to the side.
Coriolanus finds it precious how polite you are to him. How compliant you act with a couple of kind words from him. That's just how he likes it.
Coriolanus begins with a simple touch. He traces a path down your neck with the pad of his finger, trailing it across your skin and up the swell of your breasts. He circles the stiffening peak of your nipple, giving it a cheeky tug.
He's happy with the moan that falls from your lips despite him barely doing anything. Taking it up another notch, he leans his head down to latch onto your nipple, the fat of your breast filling his mouth.
Coriolanus releases a moan of his own as his tongue flicks over your nipple, and you arch your back into it. However, he's unhappy with the lack of contact from you.
Reaching for one of your hands, he places it on the back of his head, urging you to touch him. This is only fun if you want to touch him as much as he wants to touch you.
One hand digs into his hair, and the other wraps around his back. Coriolanus goes back and forth between one breast and the other, incorporating new things for you. Kissing, sucking, pinching, squeezing, biting. He's confident he's made the right choice with you when you respond beautifully to one of his bites.
"Yes, Coryo, more," you whine and beg when he tugs on your nipple with his teeth. For that, he leaves a pretty purple bruise on your chest. A reward for himself.
"That's it, darling. Don't hold your pretty moans from me any longer," Coriolanus purrs, finding your red-bitten lips.
Coriolanus involuntarily ruts into you when you slip your tongue into his mouth. His girl was turning bolder by the minute; all she needed was to be touched.
No one can shake the innocence off you as you moan and widen your eyes when you feel his hard cock press into you. Coriolanus is straining against his trousers and has been for a while now. This whole situation is a fantasy come to life and it makes him throb.
He must control himself. He cares about you greatly, and with that level of care comes control. Control over himself and you. Three years ago, he failed to control himself, and he failed to control Lucy Gray. He can't afford to make the same mistake. There is more at stake now.
Realistically, Coryo has barely touched you, and you're a needy mess. There is heat coursing through your body that is settling in between your legs. Your panties stick to you with your arousal, making you fidgety.
Reminds you of your clenched thighs whenever he's near. How you've abused your clit thinking about Coriolanus and his affectionate ways that are reserved solely for you.
"Coryo, please," you beg, cupping his face in your hands.
"Tell me what you want," Coriolanus pointedly says. He enjoys your innocence, but he wants to taint it so desperately. He needs to hear you talk dirty words in his ear.
"Touch me," you say, pressing your lips against his.
Coriolanus keeps his hands firmly on your waist, not giving into your pleas until you speak clearly, "Where do you want me to touch you, darling?"
"Please, touch my-my cunt," you stutter your words as your face burns again. You hide your face in his neck, brushing your lips delicately against it.
You're the complete opposite of him. Soft when he's rough. Innocent when he's wicked. Quiet when he's outspoken. What a perfect pair you make.
You gasp when he feels you through your wet panties. Coriolanus traces up and down your covered slit, teasing you. You're moaning into his neck, his foreign touch overwhelming you.
With a kiss to your temple, Coriolanus sits up between your spread thighs. He lifts your skirt, bunching it on your middle, preferring to leave it on your body. Your center is exposed to him, the wet patch on your matching panties clearly visible to his eyes.
You watch him as he bites his lips and rubs his hands up and down your thighs. He's preparing, reminding himself to keep his shit together. If it were up to him, he'd be fucking you silly.
"Let's take these off, yeah?" Coriolanus slips your ruined panties off your legs without waiting for your response. He kisses up your ankle to your knee as he settles between your thighs.
Your thigh is next as he nears your wet center. Your arousal glistens as it clings to your pussy lips. You look down at Coryo, propped up on your elbows.
"Darling, why don't you show me how you do it?" He asks, amused.
When you make no move, he grabs your hand and places it between your legs, encouraging you, "It's just you and I."
"Okay, Coryo," you whisper.
Biting your lips, you press your middle finger on your pink pearl. It's still safely hidden between your lips. Coriolanus observes how your cunt reacts to you circling your clit. Thick clear liquid drips from your opening, and he catches how you gather some of it to spread on your reddening clit.
The closer you get to your peak, the faster you go, your index finger joining your middle finger as you broaden your movements. Your head is thrown back with whines that join the 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of your wet cunt.
Coriolanus forces himself out of his trance of seeing you play with yourself from up close. He hadn't caught himself talking you through it, speaking lewd words to make you cum. Quick as a snake, he grabs your wrist to stop you.
"Coryo, no. Why'd you make me stop?" You whine, lifting your head back up.
"I'm not done with you just yet," he responds sternly, releasing your wrist. Today you'll only cum around his fingers.
"Oh?"
Coriolanus dips his finger between the lips of your cunt, gathering your arousal in his finger. He's finally touching you like you asked. He taps on your clit that's peeking out of its hood, making you lightly flinch at the suddenly burst of pleasure.
"Have you ever fingered yourself?" He shamelessly asks before he attempts to slip a finger into you.
"No, it feels uncomfortable," you respond, figuring out where this is going.
Coriolanus holds back a smile. It's like he'd won the lottery and gained this beautiful, pure creature, untouched by anyone. You're his to taint to his image so you always remember his touch.
"Will you let me give it a try?" He pretends to ask. If you say no, he'll still try to convince you.
"Mhm," you hum, "Be gentle."
"Always," Coriolanus quips, locking eyes with you.
Coriolanus coats his middle finger with your arousal before he pushes his finger in. He circles your clit to get you to relax due to your constant tense state.
"I need you to relax for me," he speaks up, kissing the inside of her thigh. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you finally soften, "There we go, princess."
Coriolanus distracts you by swiping his fingers up and down your slit, so you don't know when he plans to slip it in. Finally, his middle finger dips into your opening, parting your walls. "So fucking tight," he groans when he finds your walls want to push him right out.
You let out a shaky gasp when you feel his long finger breach your entrance. It's been years since you last tried. It doesn't hurt, to your surprise, but there is a particular feeling of your cunt accommodating his finger.
"I'm sorry," you quickly apologize, biting onto the back of your hand when he tentatively starts pushing his finger in and out.
"It's nothing to be sorry about. It's a good thing," he reassures you. His cock will feel so snug when he fucks you for the first time. He's hit a gold mine with you.
Your walls squeeze his finger like a vice, and he finds himself reminding you to try and relax. Carefully he pumps his finger in and out, light clicking noises coming from the wetness of his finger and your cunt.
Slowly your expression of discomfort morphs into one of pleasure, aided by his thumb on your clit. Curving his finger, Coriolanus searches for that spot inside of you. He knows he's got it when you moan out his name and fall back on the bed, grabbing an old teddy bear from your bed and biting into it. You're dripping on his hand.
It's so much he debates on adding another finger. He has to be careful, though. You're so tight, and he wishes to reserve the thin barrier of your innocence for his cock to push through. There's no doubt it'll tear with the size of his cock.
A token of that much value should be taken properly and not in a flurry of lust. Girls like you have been taught to take care of it until the right man comes along and Coriolanus is confident you feel that way toward him.
God, his cock is so fucking hard. He must be leaking pre. Desperately, Coriolanus rolls his hips on your mattress to relieve some of the tension. This is your doing, and you're not aware of how much you're torturing him.
Coriolanus tries to push his pointer finger into your cunt, but it proves difficult, especially when you flinch away and grab his wrist to stop him.
"Stop, it hurts, Coriolanus," you cry and try to wiggle away. One finger is enough for you. It's far more than you could ever do on your own.
But Coriolanus doesn't like being told what to do, and he hates it, especially when people he considers close call him by his full name.
"I'm sorry, darling. I'll be gentle, but you have to let me if you ever want to take my cock," Coriolanus reminds you sweetly.
"Promise me," you say with a blush caused by his crude words. He's right. After today, you'll surely want him to go all the way with you, and neither will have the patience to go as slowly as today.
"I promise. Here, bend your legs. It should be better." Coriolanus arranges you in such a way were your pretty cunt is fully exposed to him, spreading to reveal your pink and tight opening. He kneels between your legs, rubbing your clit. "Remember to relax."
Coriolanus starts all over again, circling your pretty clit and fucking one finger into you. Once you close your eyes, losing yourself in the pleasure, he grabs hold of your thigh to keep you in place and pushes the tip of his second finger.
He ignores your complaints and rubs your clit more furiously, subduing your pain and replacing it with toe-curling pleasure. He thrusts shallowly until your cunt gives way for him to slip the two fingers entirely.
"Good girl, see, that wasn't so bad," he says in a slightly mocking tone you don't catch.
"Thank you, Coryo," you moan as your hand reaches to the one on your thigh.
Fuck, you sure know how to feed into his ego. He's heard that phrase so many times when he helps you with your homework. How will he keep his cock in his pants when you say that to him in the university library?
He fucks you steadily with his fingers adding a little force to make your tits jiggle. You hold onto the teddy bear, moaning softly. It's so easy to tell when you're about to cum like this. Your walls squeeze him so tightly he believes you'll push him out.
"You're going to cum, darling?" Coriolanus asks you, pulling you out of your bubble.
"Yes," you sob. This orgasm feels so different from your other ones. Like it comes from deep within. Maybe it's the penetration of Coriolanus's fingers, or perhaps it's just him doing all the work that does it for you.
"Let me hear you," he spits out as he curls his fingers more, hitting the spongy spot inside of you over and over again till the sound of your juices squelching echoes in the room.
"Coryo, Coryo, Coryo," you gasp, repeating his name with a cry and holding tightly onto his free hand.
He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, his fingers and hand wet with your cum. You nudge him with your foot when it's too much, your words jumbled in your tongue.
You lay limp on the bed, body flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat. Your hair sticks to your forehead, and your skirt is wrinkled and skewed on your midsection. You believe you look like an outright mess, but to Coriolanus, you couldn't look more perfect than in that moment.
As he removes his fingers from your fluttering hole, a string of cum stretches between his fingers and your cunt. Impulsively, he brings them up to his lips to taste you.
"Coryo, no, what?" You pipe up, embarrassed.
"Mmm," he hums in pleasure. He's on the verge is saying fuck it and fucking you tonight. You taste so divine he wants to get in between your pretty thighs to clean you all up, "Have you never tasted yourself?"
"No, I've never thought to," you murmur, scrunching your nose.
"You taste good," Coryo says, plunging his fingers into you again, making you whine from oversensitivity. "Try it."
Not giving you a choice, he presses his index and middle fingers to your lips. You part them slowly, dipping your head to take them into your mouth. The ring on Coriolanus's middle finger clicks against your teeth. You look at Coryo as you suck them, searching for his approval.
"Good, right?" He asks when he pulls his fingers back.
You shyly nod, surprised by your behavior. Your trust in Coryo is so immense that you don't question his actions. Anything he'd ask you would do.
Coriolanus smiles widely, cupping your face to kiss you. He's proud of you and of your progress today. He's happy to have someone to mold to his needs as well.
He's complacent at the moment, seeing you act shy, and he has no problem being delicate, either. Still, a part of him can't wait to have you in his grasp to properly bite and squeeze and spank to his desires. To have you teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure along with him.
"Coryo?" You call for him as he stands from the bed. You grab his hand, pulling him back down.
"Yes, darling? Is there something wrong?" Coriolanus questions, scanning your body for any discomfort.
"I want to…" You want to touch him. His hard-on is clearly visible on his red pants, and you would be a liar if you said you weren't curious as to how it looks.
"To what…" He wonders. You point down to his crotch, where you can make out the outline of his erection. "You want to suck my cock?"
"Yes, I want to make you feel good," you nod with your puppy dog eyes, and he has to will himself to say no. It's a difficult task when you're desperate to fall into his hands.
"My darling girl, don't worry about me. We'll get around to it another day. It's late," he softly chuckles, kissing your cheek. You've run out of time, soon your parents will be home. They probably don't want to find you being fucked by your boyfriend. "I promise you can help me next time, yeah?"
"Promise," you smile.
His eyes flicker to your lips to memorize them. He'll be sure to picture them tonight when he's fucking his fist. He thinks you'll be a good little cocksucker because of the way you eagerly sucked on his fingers earlier.
If not, he'll teach you.
Who knew he'd become a mentor of sorts once again.
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*sips tea* thank you for reading! i really hope you liked it!
*starts choking on blood* damn it coriolanus, not again! before i go just know i'm working on ways to destress part 2! i will be back, this is not the end! *head thumps on the table*
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