#i can write and draw smut without issue

[senselessalchemist]

Always end up romancing the wrong character in vidya games with romance options 😔

[skullsbown]

♱𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭♱

|SMUT, Professor!Sevika (Modern day), College student!reader

| Anal, cunnilingus, thigh humping, degradation (a little bit), spanking (a little bit), age gap (LEGAL!!), 18+ reader

!MDNI! !MINORS DNI!

✮₊���₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮

You were currently a student at college, and your last lecture happened to be your favourite class.

And this was for one reason and one reason only.

Professor Sevika.

And you know you can’t be the only one in class, wishing she was plugging up your pussy with her fingers instead of lecturing.

-

You should be taking notes on your laptop, though you can’t help but doodle on the corner of your paper sticking out of your binder. Doodling images of your Professor, drawing her muscles and sexy frame.

You’ve honestly stared at her so many times without a thought in your head that you’ve memorized her body and facial features by heart.

Maybe if life had been different…if you could’ve met her outside of college, maybe in a bar so she can take you to the alleyway in the back to eat your pussy out, till you feel like you’re gonna collapse on her face…

You fantasized about her the whole lecture, you completely forgot to actually listen and take down notes…whatever, it was totally worth it.

Till it wasn’t.

-

You realized that your grades started slipping in her class, your essays have been really lacking any knowledge on the course material, you’ve barely paid attention to research papers, forgetting about them completely. And you’ve been getting average or less marks on your quizzes.

Man this was really bad.

-

You’ve been trying to stay on track with her lessons, taking down notes, though you’d still drift off and let your mind wander about.

Once the class had ended, you started getting ready to head back to your dorm, packing up your laptop and binder. You stepped down the narrow stairs between the rows of the seats, making your way to the front.

Sevika looked up from her laptop, spotting you.

She called out to you, “Stay back. We need to talk.”

You stopped, looking back at her. You were terrified, she looked so serious and her tone was just as scary.

You walked over to her desk, the students leaving the class, now empty.

Sevika took off her reading glasses and set them down on her desk.

She looked up at you, grey eyes piercing into your soul (or that’s what it felt like) “Do you understand the material?”

You cleared your throat, “Yes.”

She raised an eyebrow, she obviously didn’t believe that. “Really? Cause it doesn’t seem like it.”

She was a blunt woman, too blunt maybe.

“Oh..-” before you could give a half-assed excuse, she cut you off.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna hear excuses. What’re you doing while I’m lecturing?” She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

“I-..writing down notes..?” You didn’t really know what else to say, you couldn’t just straight up tell her oh, I’m dreaming about you fucking me into oblivion. Tch..

“Okay, I don’t believe that though.” She said. “You were good in the beginning and then your grades went down tremendously. That’s not good.”

Your gaze left hers, looking at her desk, suddenly interested in the wood.

She noticed this, and she didn’t care for it. “Excuse me, I’m talking.” She said with a no nonsense attitude.

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at her again. Beautiful yet so terrifying.

“Good.” She sat up straight in her chair. “This isn’t high school, you realize that, right? I’m not gonna be there for you and ‘guide’ you through it. If you fuck up, you fuck up.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t like when I see my students fail. It makes me seem as if I’m a bad teacher.”

You fiddled with your fingers. “You’re not a bad teacher. I’m just…having issues focusing.”

She looked up at you again, nodding. “I see that.”

She sighed, “listen, take my advice. Do your best to focus, take your notes, watch videos when you leave to better explain. If you don’t, you’re gonna fail this class, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“You can either listen or not, it’s your decision. But I am being considerate enough to speak to you about this issue. Many wouldn’t”

You nodded, your gaze not really knowing where to go, you knew you had to get a grip, but how?

Sevika could sense an issue. She closed her laptop, standing up, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I can tell you’re smart, and I thought you were interested in this class. But as your marks have gone down, it seems like you lost that interest.” Her eyes roamed over your expression.

“I wanna see you do better in here, alright? I’m not taking this dump anymore, fix up.” She said sternly.

You nodded. “Okay..I’ll do better, I promise. And I do like this class.”

“Mhm. Prove it to me. Let me see your marks go up, then I’ll believe that.” She took a deep breath, “But for now, you can leave.” She excused you easily. Beginning to grab her stuff.

“Alright. Thank you Professor.”

She just let out a simple hum in acknowledgment.

You turned around and left.

Once you were out of her class, you let out a large sigh of relief, your shoulders sagging and your heart racing.

You couldn’t tell if it was racing cause of how drop dead gorgeous she was, or if it’s cause of her stern tone. Maybe both…probably both.

-

After that conversation, you’d been picking up on your work, forcing yourself to ignore her sexy muscles…her tan skin..those eyes- Jesus Christ! Get ahold of yourself.

Your grades slowly increased, but not enough.

So one day after her lecture, you walked up to her desk once everyone had left.

She looked up at you, her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. “Yes?”

“I’ve improved” You said with a small smile.

She let out a small scoff, “Yes, kind of.”

“So you believe me?”

She thought about it for a second. “I guess I do.” She sighed.

You nodded, containing the pride.

“Was that all?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Uhm..no. I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Mhm?” She hummed.

“Do you think you can give me a little boost?” You said nervously.

“A boost?” She questioned.

“Yeah..extra credits?” You rephrased.

She chuckled deeply, taking her glasses off and setting them down. “Extra credits? For what?”

You looked off to the side, “Just to help me out a bit.”

“And you think you deserve these extra credits…for doing what?” She thought your question was stupid.

You sighed. “I don’t know…I’m trying. My attention span is bad, and I’ve fixed it. Isn’t that good?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sure, it’s good. But not ‘boost’ worthy.”

“I need it. I don’t think I can improve that quick in that little time. I’m improving but..it’s not fast enough.” You were pleading now.

She found this amusing to say the least. Eyeing you up and down, leaning back in her chair with her manspread. “Uhuh…well, I’m not gonna hand over extra credit just like that.”

“Please professor.”

She scoffed, “You’re begging now?”

You got a bit embarrassed at that, maybe you were begging, just a little..what’s so wrong with that? “Maybe..?”

Sevika stood up, looking at you, her arms still crossed. “And you think this ‘begging’ is gonna get you somewhere?”

You huffed, trying not to pay attention to how turned on the height difference made you. “…maybe.”

“Good thing you got the face for it.”

Was that a compliment? You didn’t know, but you knew it made you very fluttery inside.

“But you haven’t convinced me. And I’m very hard to convince, Pretty.” That pet name had totally slipped out. Sevika mentally cursed at herself, this was getting unprofessional. Though she couldn’t help but feel the small pull by you.

Your eyebrows raised. Clearing your throat in the tension of the situation that suddenly raised. “Pretty?” Your clit surprisingly twitched against the cotton of your underwear.

Sevika couldn’t back out now, so she went with it. “You heard me.” She furrowed her eyebrows at the need of repetition.

“You also still have not convinced me.” She looked down on you expectantly.

“I-…don’t know how to do that..?”

Sevika shrugged, “figure it out, I’m waiting. And I’ll let you on a little secret.”

She leaned a bit closer, breath fanning over your face, “I’m not a patient person.”

Your heart raced in your chest, beating fast, matching the beating and twitching of your needy clit.

You didn’t really know what to do- well, you did, but you didn’t know if it’s what she was expecting.

But why not go for it.

You leaned closer to her, your lips barely brushing against hers. Those plump, dark, scarred lips of hers.

Sevika hadn’t expected you to go for it, but she didn’t let her shock show.

She grinned, “Naughty..” she whispered.

She leaned in, kissing your lips hungrily, her hand coming up at the back of your head, tangling in your strands.

You moaned against your lips, your hands clutching at her top. You couldn’t believe it…you really couldn’t.

Her free hand going to your hip, digging your fingers into your skin above the fabric.

She groaned against your lips, her tongue coaxing them to part.

You parted your lips eagerly for her, meeting her tongue with yours, caressing each other.

Her hand on your hip, forcefully bringing you closer to her, your bodies were smushed together.

She was obsessed with your mouth and soft lips, just as you were with hers.

She brought her other hand to your hip, slowly sliding both hands down to the back of your thighs.

She lifted you up, drawing a small gasp from you, quickly swallowed up by her intense kissing.

She lifted you and set you down on her desk, she brought herself closer to you, her body in between your legs.

Her hands went to the desk, resting on either side of your body, trying to get closer to you.

You wrapped your arms around her neck, needing every inch of her. Your tongue swirled against hers, getting sloppier as you both got more and more worked up.

Your tongues explored each others mouths, it was as if you were two horny teenagers.

Sevika suddenly pulled her lips away, her breathing slightly ragged. She then buried her face in the crook of your neck, kissing your soft, hot skin.

You moaned softly.

Kissed down your clothed torso, eventually falling to her knees. She brought her hands to your pants, pausing and looking up at you with a raised eyebrow, silently asking for your permission.

“Do it..need t’feel you..” you said quietly and needy.

She smirked and nodded. “Oh, you’ll feel me alright.”

She pulled down your pants along with your underwear, taking your shoes off as well to get your clothing off of you. She tossed your discarded clothes off to the side.

“I’m gonna eat this pussy so good baby.” She said low, her voice deep and smooth.

Your breathing hitched at her words, you were extremely hot and flustered, your cunt was probably dripping with arousal now.

She grabbed your thighs, pulling them apart. She took a good look at your exposed vulva. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

She moved her face closer, burying herself into your pussy. She licked gently at your clit, her eyes looking up through her lashes at you.

You moaned, your hand going down to her hair, fisting it as you hold her there.

You were so astonished by the sudden intimacy with your professor, but you’d been dying for this moment to happen. You were so incredibly aroused, you could feel your orgasm already slowly building. It was a bit embarrassing the way your clit twitched with anticipation, your climax was obvious as it neared with the way you leaked against her tongue.

“Oh fuuckk Sevika…right- right there..” you breathed heavily,

Sevika felt a small ego boost as she saw how quickly you were getting to the edge, she moaned softly against your clit, sucking on it as her tongue circled and swirled against it. She gripped the flesh of your thighs harder, fingers digging into the thick skin.

Your hips ground against her mouth when you felt the quick vibration of her moan against you. Your face scrunched in pleasure, your abdomen tight with effort to try and buy some time before cumming too quickly.

“Please- please-..” you couldn’t even finish your sentence.

Sevika’s eyes looking up at you expectantly, wanting you to finish your sentence, wanting to hear you plead. She gripped your thigh harder before smacking it with her hand.

You yelped as the sharp pain bloomed against your thigh, only making you get closer to your orgasm. “Fuck!” You gripped her hair harder, any harder you’d rip her hair right out.

Sevika moaned as you gripped her hair with harsh force, she sucked harder on your clit, making you dangerously close.

Your eyes rolled back, and suddenly that tight coil inside of you snapped. Your thighs shook, trying to close around her head but she held them apart with strength. “UNGH! Oh my fucking god- uhhh Sevika!” Your moans were dirty yet melodic to Sevika’s ears.

She continued licking at your clit, prolonging your orgasm. As it faded, she pulled away, looking up at you. Her lips shiny with your wetness.

“Tasted so fucking good mama.” Her voice was deep and smooth.

“You think so?” Your voice on the other hand was a bit shaken and out of breath.

She grinned, her little tooth gap on display. “I do.”

She stood up, pulling you off the desk. You got down, stumbling a bit, you waited for further instructions.

She sat down on her chair, looking up at you. “Turn around.” She commanded.

You nodded and slowly turned, “now what..?”

“Now, sit that pretty ass down and ride my fucking thigh like a slut.” Her voice was a dark rumble.

You bit your bottom lip hard, you slowly sat down on her thigh.

She gripped your hips, your back facing her. She pulled her down hard onto her thigh, your legs parting painfully, your clit crashing against her clothed leg, causing a moan to escape you.

She had her boot resting on the edge of her chair, keeping her leg raised and bent under you.

You straddled her bare, muscular leg. You could feel her muscles against your throbbing clit.

“Grind that pretty clit on me baby.” She urged you, watching your entire backside.

You moaned softly “Uhuh..” you began to grind on her thigh, your clit rubbing against her. “Oh-!…it feels so fucking good Sev..” you humped her thigh like a dumb bunny.

“Mmm keep humping me, lookin’ so pretty like a desperate fucking whore…” Her words were laced with venom but the best, sexiest kind.

“Uhh yeahhuh! A whore for you..!” The friction that built against the hardness of her thigh and the cloth of her pants against your clit was Heaven.

Her hands wandered, arching your back more for her, spreading your plush cheeks. She touched your anus with her thumb. You let out a surprised sound.

“What’re you doing..?” Your voice whiny.

“Just be quiet and let me make you feel good mama.” She spat on her thumb, rubbing your anus with her wet thumb and slowly pushing it past your tight ring of muscle.

You let out a throaty moan, your hips stuttering as your virgin hole stretched around her thumb. “Oh fuuuck!”

“You like that baby?” She groaned, feeling how tight you were.

You nodded your head urgently, grinding back on her thumb and thigh at the same time. Your creamy arousal sticking to her pants in a streak.

“You like my thumb in this dumb hole?” She thrusted her thumb in and out.

“Yeah- yes! ‘Feels so good baby…ohhh..” Your eyes rolled back, a thin like of drool dribbling from the corner of your mouth down your chin.

You rubbed your clit hard and fast against her leg. If you hadn’t been so horny and excited, you’d be in pain from the amount of rubbing against the fabric.

“Babe- baby…think I’m gonna cum…ohhm’god!!”

She smacked your cheek with her free hand, leaving a hand print against the colour of your flesh, making you yelp and moan, you swallowed hard, your eyes squeezing shut.

She shoved her thumb harder in and out of your asshole. “Cum on me. Cum on me like the attention whore you are.”

“I’m-” you couldn’t even get your words out, poor you, thighs trembling around her hard muscle.

“Cum for me bitch.” Sevika said with a deep groan, spanking your ass cheek again with her free hand.

And with that sharp slap, you came. Your mouth dropped open with a silent moan, humping her hard as your ride out your orgasm.

“Yeahhh just like that…” Sevika moaned low, watching your creamy cum get rubbed all over her thigh, sticking to the black cotton.

You breathed heavily, your eyes opening as you slowed down, you subconsciously clenched around her thumb.

“Mm..” Sevika slowly pulled her thumb out of your tight hole.

“Jesus..” you moaned softly, your humps halting to a stop.

“So perfect, you came so beautifully for me mama.” She gently rubbed your asscheeks, one of them being sore and a bit red from her hard smacks.

-

After regaining control and getting off her thigh, you sloppily put your clothes back on.

Sevika cleared her throat, “Maybe I will give you that extra credit.”

You chuckled. “Well maybe we should do this more often, wonder how many extra credits I can get from these-” she cut you off.

“Uhuh, don’t get ahead of yourself. Now go, you still have that paper due.” She crossed her arms.

“Oh- yeah, sorry.”

Sevika smiled, “mhm, bye.”

“Bye.” You said with a bit of giddy, you had a bit of pep in your wobbly step as you went for the door. You opened the door to leave, but you’re met with another professor, he raised an eyebrow.

You looked at him awkwardly before stepping by him and leaving the building.

The man looked away from your retrieving figure, he walked inside the classroom and saw Sevika cleaning off her leg with a tissue and packing up her stuff. “Was that a student?” He asked.

Sevika jolted slightly, not hearing him come in. She looked up at him. “Yeah.”

“So late?” He looked a bit bewildered. “I thought you hated after class talks.”

She scoffed, “I felt nice.” She shrugged.

The man looked her up and down, “Okay..?”

Sevika rolled her eyes and grabbed her stuff. “Night.” She said before walking out and waiting for him to leave.

“Yeah, night.” The man eyed her before leaving. She shut the door and went to the exit.

She knew what she’d be imagining tonight when she gets her hands on her vibrator after a few drinks.

✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮

Hiii guys, I would absolutely LOVE it if some of you can send in some asks, I’ve lost creativity and motivation like ten billion different times so YEAH…I’d love to work with different characters and stories (Smut, fluff, angst, kinky smut, etc) so if you wanna see something specific (and if you like my recent art, I’ll maybe even make something based on your request), ASK ME!!😖😖 I need the motivation.

[nymphoniah]

can I request old man Logan where he’s looking for his glasses and he finds the reader sitting in his seat wearing them & teasing him how can he see without them. Then something primal inside him overcomes him to put her in her place

I hope that’s not too silly of a request I just drool over old man Logan especially with his glasses

you know i’m no good | logan howlett

i love this old man… i need him like air!!! ackkkk </3. tysm for sending this request in, we all need a grumpy logan in our lives :3 also i just read the old man logan comics and lord!!! i absolutely need to write more of himmmm

pairing: old man!logan x younger!reader

content/tags: NSFW minors dni, 18+ only, implied age gap (reader is in their 20’s), soft dom!logan, afab!reader, boot riding, smut, daddy kink, swearing, pet names (princess, doll, etc), a little bit of dacryphilia, logan refers to himself as an old man, porn w a lil bit of plot if you squint, crybaby!reader

you absolutely love the way logan’s glasses hang off of his nose bridge—always making sure when you’re peppering his face in kisses, you kiss the little bump that accentuates his features.

logan was a little embarrassed at first, wearing his glasses around you. thought it made him look older, already felt senile just taking them out of the case.

“c’mon!” you tease, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose. “i like the way you look in them,” you push him further, toying with the frames of his glasses.

“i look older in ‘em,” he says, playing off your kind words, “never was a fan of wearing them in the first place,” logan continues to drone on.

“charles says otherwise,” you snap back, your fingers playing where his glasses sit on his ears, flipping the glasses slightly up and down off his nose bridge.

logan chuckles, allowing you to continue playing with his glasses. “fine, i’ll wear ‘em,” he obliges much quicker than you thought he would—god knows the man loves to put on a fight.

but for you? he’d fold instantly. that’s what you do to him, you’re his little soft spot.

“only ‘cause you like it, princess.”

so when time passes, and you start to see him wear his glasses less and less, you decide to mess around with him a bit—give him a little surprise!

now here you are, sat in his armchair with a small smirk forming at the corner of your lips. your legs crossed, eyes peering up at him, but this time—his glasses perched on your nose.

logan approaches you slowly, his footsteps heavy, his figure towering over yours. he’s just come home from work, dressed up in his black and white suit, his tie slightly undone. he looks especially tired, like he’s had a long day.

“you broke your promise,” you trail off quietly, losing your smugness as logan looks down at you, his eyes sullen. “forgot these at home,” you continue, pointing at the glasses.

you try to ease the tension in the air by cracking a joke. “bet you couldn’t even drive straight without these.”

your words draw no reaction from logan. it’s painfully obvious that he’s drained from the day, and has no patience for whatever you have planned.

“i don’t have time for this,” he shrugs you off, pulling at your arm to get you up on your feet, “get ‘outta my spot, need to have some fuckin’ peace for once”.

you hate when logan gets like this, refusing to let you know what’s occupying his thoughts, keeping you in the dark—pushing you away.

so being the stubborn girl you are, you stay limp, refusing to move from the armchair. “no.” you retort, voice low and quiet.

logan can obviously lift you out of the chair with no issues, no tugging on your wrists or anything of the sort. but he sees that you’re at least trying to ease him up, make him feel the tiniest bit better. so he bites.

“can’t hear ‘ya, princess” logan says, the timbre of his voice gravelly, his eyebrow now raised, watching for your next move.

“no.” you respond sternly, shifting your weight further into the leather, tugging your arm away from his grasp.

something inside logan snaps. maybe it’s just ‘cause he had a bad day at work, or perhaps he just got riled up, seeing you get all bratty with him. knowing him, it was probably a combination of the two.

“no?” he mocks, sounding bitter as he lets out a tsk. “wrong fuckin’ answer, sweetheart.”

and that’s when the mood changes. the tension is still there, but there’s a shift. you feel your stomach turn, in a weird, twisted way—aroused by the way logan looks down at you with displeasure.

“need me to put you in your place, huh?” logan spits out, grabbing you by the wrist, finally pulling you out of the armchair.

taking little effort, he makes you stumble to your knees, your palms hitting the ground of the hardwood floor. you’re kneeled in front of logan, feeling foolish, stupid for trying to pester him after a long day.

“m’sorry,” you mutter, eyes glued to the floor, his glasses sliding low on your nose.

logan perches down to your height, bending down so that he’s level to your ears. “it’s a bit too late for apologies now, doll,” he coos, cupping your face with one of his hands.

he squishes your cheeks together, making it so that you’re looking up at him now. his eyes are sullen, facial features stern, the bags under his eyes a bit darker than usual.

streams of sorry, sorry, sorry is all you can manage let out of your pretty little mouth. you feel so guilty, upsetting him. sure, you had no ill intentions, but you know you pushed him—you should’ve just gotten out of the stupid chair, could’ve avoided this stupid mess.

the thoughts continue to drill into your brain, the regret. your eyes start to get teary, you just can’t help it. after everything that logan’s done, all the shit he’s been through, you didn’t wanna add onto his problems, cause any unnecessary stress in his life.

“don’t cry, princess” he consoles you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. logan steadies himself back up, seating himself into the leather armchair where you once sat.

you shift around, slotting yourself between his legs, your pink, teary eyes looking up at him. “m’sorry still, didn’t wanna make you mad,” you sniffled out, taking off his glasses, placing them on the coffee table.

you leaned your head against his leg, your cheek nuzzling into the fabric of his slacks, your tears staining the pants a darker shade of black.

logan looked down at you, his tired eyes admiring the way you sat below him, practically worshiping him. “you’re just needy for your old man, hm?” he says, patting your head gently as you continue to weep.

“can’t help it, lo,” you murmur, tears becoming less frequent as he continues to tangle his fingers in your hair. “you’ve been gone a lot.”

your eyes fall down to his black leather dress shoes, the stitching of the shoes frayed, the material slightly worn at the edges. your fingertips play with the toe of his boots, trying to ground yourself.

“i know, i know, doll,” he replies, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek, his eyes catching the way you were staring intently at his shoes. “show me how much you missed me.”

your mind is still racing, trying to find a way to ease the pain you felt on your heart, the residing guilt you felt from earlier.

that’s ‘till you let your body think for itself, mindlessly hovering your clothed cunt on top of his boot. your breath stutters, trying to make sense of your actions, but it’s the last thing you wanna do.

all you want to do is turn your brain off—make sure that the pain goes away, that all your troubles could be temporarily solved.

“need this, need you,” you whine, placing yourself firmly on his boot, slowly grinding against him, pressing the temple of your head onto logan’s knee.

logan feels himself hardening at the sight of you getting off on him, his cock twitching as you paw at his slacks, your roaming hands finding their way to his crotch.

“fuck…” he hisses out, tilting his heels slightly upwards, making it so that the toe of his shoes angles right against your cunt. “my filthy girl just needed her old man to comfort her, yeah?”

you moan out in pleasure, your eyes shutting tight as you pace yourself, rutting against the rugged leather rhythmically. your cunt was leaking with your arousal, the excess slowly dripping down the sides of his shoes.

“missed you… so bad… d-daddy,” you cried out in between pants, your breath quivering, feeling the pressure in your core building up. “don’t know what i’d do… without ’ya…”

“you don’t need to worry about that, princess,” logan coos, “daddy’s right here,” he punctuates by nestling the toe of his shoe deeper inside your messy cunt.

“shut your pretty little brain off and keep riding me like that.”

[seishroo]

rin and marathon sex cause he's a freak like that

“make her tap out” — r. itoshi

cw. smut mdni, overstimulation, reader being pathetic as hell, rin just being yummy yum yum

rin was always a beast when it came to soccer. dominating the field, he’s intense — commanding authority without even trying.

and when it comes to sex? he’s practically a machine running off of talent, ego, and pure domination. you’d think he’d be worn out from all of his matches, but his stamina never wavers when it comes to you. not even for a split second.

he’d have you in a brutal mating press, pounding into you with relentless vigor as you struggled to even catch an intake of breath, your hands scrambling for something to ground yourself with — which happened to be those godly biceps of his.

“rinnie!”, you’d whine, tears rolling down your delicate features as he fucked you to yet another orgasm. what was it now? third, fourth, seventh? who knows at this point. you were too dazed, and it seemed like he was having zero issue taking you to peak after peak after peak.

“yeah, pretty baby?”, he’d question just to humor you, acting as if he was paying attention to anything you had to say. he didn’t need to know what you were thinking, your pussy spoke for you — fluttering around his cock frantically. he’d continue to thrust into you, hard and deep. he was clearly getting a kick out of sending you far past mere overstimulation.

he’d push down on your tummy, feeling how deep he was inside of you. “tsk, you feel that, baby?”, he’d ask between thrusts, watching exactly what it does to you. “feel me in there?”, he’d chuckle, grasping the back of your knees tighter and pushing your legs back further, folding you like a fucking beach chair. “shit, ‘s like this pussy was made just for me”, he’d mutter, hitting your sweet spot over and over with the new angle.

you could barely come up with a response, just incoherent babbles and chants of his name, your body now being a bunch of mush as he had his way with you, moans filling the room like a sweet melody.

he groaned at the way your cunt swallowed him whole, just greedy and filthy. it tightened around him like a vice, signaling your impending release yet again.

“ohmygodohmygodrinrinrin”, you’d cry out, choking on your own words as you felt yourself becoming pathetically needy for him, to soak his length in your juices again. “shhhhhiiiiittttt, ‘m gon—“, you panted before your brain short-circuited once his thumb met your throbbing clit, applying just the right amount of pressure and speed to get you there even faster.

“i know, baby”, he coos, holding your legs in place with one hand while the other abused your swollen clit. “doing so well f’me, jus’ let go, yeah?”, he’d mutter in that sexy low tone, just his voice alone could have you a mess.

in which it did, you quivered erratically as your orgasm rushed through you, back arching before your body went limp and practically melted into the bed. rin continued to fuck you through it, making sure to draw every last bit out before he spilled inside of you with a choked groan, his hot seed filling you up to the brim.

he slowly pulled out of you before pushing back in, ensuring that none of him spilled out of your hole. “you look s’pretty when you’re all messy for me”, he whispers — more so to himself given you couldn’t process jack shit at the moment, still pathetically whimpering.

he pulls out of you, flipping you onto your tummy and pushing your legs in, putting your ass in the air before burying his face in your cunt, slurping up the mixture of both of your releases and eating you out from behind. he’d chuckle at your little whines, telling him 'you can’t take anymore' and this and that. nipping at your inner thigh, he’d coo once more, “aw, you can take one more f’me, can’t you?”, before diving back into your folds.

it was in fact not one more. don’t ever believe rin when he says that shit.

an: i loved writing this tysm for the req - now i can't stop thinking abt rin LMFAOOOO

© seishroo | much love ꨄ

[leighsartworks216]

By Such A Little Taste

Sylus x fem!Reader

This got so far away from me ngl One minute you're staring at Sylus's hands while he plays the claw machine, the next you're writing 4k words about those hands

Title from "Hooked (Addicted You Might Say)" by Eleisha Eagle

NSFW, smut below the cut

Warnings: smut, fingering, cunnilingus, cumming untouched, hand/finger kink, marking, biting, kissing, teasing, dacryphilia/crying, swearing, praise kink, choking, breathplay, pet names, nipple play, embarrassment, shyness

Word Count: 4,085 (Y'ALL 😭)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Which one do you want me to get?”

You look through the glass of the arcade machine. The attendees always make sure to keep it clean from any kids leaving sticky fingerprints on it, so every plushie is on full display. A red fox with a little wintery cape, a hermit crab with an ice cream cone on its back, and a cockatiel with bright red cheeks. You just love looking at them all.

“Do you think you can get the Cone Crab?” You point to it through the glass, without touching of course. “I don’t think I have it yet.”

Sylus smiles down at you. “Whatever you want, sweetie.”

He inserts the token smoothly, pressing it into the slot with his thumb. You cozy up to his side like you always do, holding his elbow while trying not to restrict his movements. His hand rests lazily on the joystick, fingers relaxed as he adjusts the claw. His fingers occasionally tap thoughtfully against the red top, trying to decide the best plan of attack to get the plushie you so desperately want.

Though, now that you’re here, the plushie is the last thing on your mind.

You’ve always known that Sylus has nice hands. They’re huge, easily dwarfing yours every time you hold them. Sometimes, you even hold onto just a few of his fingers or his pinky, just so your hand doesn’t get too tired. He loves it, too. He loves when you’re curled up into him, playing with his hand, comparing the sizes.

Tonight, though, those thoughts go a little bit further. You think about the way it effortlessly curled around your neck in the photobooth earlier tonight. How his fingers traced along your back when the crowd at the mall got a little too dense for your liking. The way they showed no mercy to Wanderers, yet tenderly bandaged your wounds.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when his elbow gently nudges you. “What’s on your mind, kitten?”

Your cheeks burn red hot, as if he could possibly ever know what you were just thinking about. You scoff. “Nothing.”

“Oh? Is that so?” He leans down to whisper by your ear. You can hear the satisfied smirk in his voice as he says, “Then, why aren’t you claiming the prize?”

Claiming the- Oh. You jolt away from him, blush creeping up to your ears as you reach down and push open the flap to grab the Cone Crab. You hug it to your chest and determinedly avoid meeting his eyes. You nod into the machine again. “Okay, what about a Snowy Fox? The one I have is getting a little lonely.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you back into his side. “Of course. Try to pay attention this time, sweetie,” he purrs the pet name.

You can feel his muscles shift as he wraps his arm around your shoulders to hold the joystick once more. It’s hardly an issue with how tall he is, but you can tell he’s drawing you in closer than necessary… That being said, you don’t move. No, you just bite the inside of your cheek and stare down the claw like you have a vendetta against it.

It shifts along the top, honing in on a Snowy Fox plushie that sits off to the side. Thankfully, it’s not right up against the wall, or else he wouldn’t even have a chance of getting one without using his Evol. He hums, the sound deep and resonating within his chest right by your head, as he presses the button. The claw descends, loosely “grabs” at the fox’s head, and drops nothing but air into the chute.

Unfortunately, the proximity draws your eyes right back to his hand.

You really try not to keep staring. Really, you try. But it’s a useless attempt at best and woefully futile at worst when he chuckles, staring down at you with that knowing glimmer in his eye after he catches you staring at the prominent veins that run through his hand.

He shifts his hand back so his fingers curl sinfully around the red top as he pushes it forward to hover back over the Snowy Fox he missed just seconds ago. Your breath hitches in your throat as his lips graze the curve of your ear. “I see where your mind is tonight,” he muses.

You exhale sharply through your nose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Instead of responding, he lifts his hand off the top of the joystick until just his fingers, long and practiced, trail along the front as he shifts the crane back a touch. His thumb, coming around the side, shifts it to the left.

“Remember to breathe.”

You jab your elbow into his ribs. He chuckles, standing up straight as he presses the button. The claw comes right down over the fox and finally gets a good grasp on the plushie. You watch it get carried through the air and to the chute. He releases you so you can retrieve it, clutching it to your chest with the crab.

“Would you like a turn now, sweetie?”

You narrow your eyes up at him. He’s planning something, you just know it. But it couldn’t be worse than watching his hands at work. You shove the plushies into his chest. He takes them and steps back. You definitely do not notice, at all, how both plushies fit in just one of his hands.

He slips another token into the slot, arm brushing against yours teasingly. You don’t react. The bear has been poked plenty, you don’t need to rile him up any further.

Eyes on the prize, the Golden Throat, you move the claw so it hovers just over the bird. Mephisto would surely love to play with it. (Even if playing with it meant ripping it to shreds.) The thought eases the tension in your shoulders. With a few minor adjustments, you press the button. And… nothing. The cockatiel falls over onto its side, staring forlornly up at you.

“Would you like some help, sweetie? Remember, you’ve only got one shot left.” He brings his hand around, golden token shining in the dancing lights of the machine as he slips it between his fingers. He holds it up with his thumb, pressing the coin face into the side of his index finger. It’s so small in his hands.

“No, I can do it.” You take the coin from him and jam it into the slot. Your face is scrunched up with concentration as you realign the crane.

You take a little longer than usual to line it up. A warm hand covers yours, engulfing it as his fingers curl overtop yours. “You’re so close, kitten,” he muses. The double entendre isn’t lost on you. “Just a little…” His index slides between two of your fingers, pushing them aside until it nestles at the crook. You feel your face burning again. “There.”

You push the button, too dazed to even check his work. His breath fans across the back of your neck. If the arcade was crowded today, you’re sure you would have been kicked out by now. The winning jingle sounds with a flash of lights.

“Good girl.”

And that’s what breaks you.

You practically push him away so you can grab the toy, not even taking the chance to cradle or admire it like usual. You shove it into his arm while he laughs, taking his free hand to drag him out of the mall as fast as possible.

He’s even worse in the car ride home. One of his hands is on the steering wheel, calmly turning it with just the flat of his hand around corners, or running his thumb in circles over the hardened leather all too knowingly. His other is on your thigh, between your legs, almost but not quite where you need him right now. It takes all your willpower not to guide him there yourself in the middle of traffic.

Once you’ve passed the border into the N109 Zone and he’s recklessly speeding up now that there are no laws to stop him, he squeezes the fat of your thigh. “You’re being so patient, kitten. Just a little further.”

Your sigh comes out shaky and impatient. “You’re still an asshole.”

Sylus just smirks.

You thank your lucky stars that Luke and Kieran are nowhere to be seen when you get to the mansion. The plushies all haphazardly lay on their sides in the back seat. You can’t think to feel bad for them, can’t think about anything else but the need pulsing between your legs, as you grab his hand and drag him inside.

Once you’re past the threshold, he’s lifting you up in one arm, cradling you to his chest. You squeal at the sudden shift in perspective, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck. His other hand holds your thigh, fingertips digging lightly into the plump flesh, thumb stroking just under the hem of your dress. You kiss behind his ear, along his jaw, bite at his pulse. He nips at the helix of your ear playfully.

As soon as you’re in his room, you’re being laid out on the bed, his hand cradling your neck so you don’t land too harshly. His knees cage your hips as he supports himself over you with one hand. Warm lips slot over yours. His free hand slides under your dress, slowly working it up your body. His touch feels heavenly, igniting every nerve that was already burning on the way here.

The kiss is languid, remaining so no matter how much you try to deepen it. His wicked grin taunts you. “What happened to all that patience you had earlier?” he teases. You bite his lower lip. He hisses at the sting, moving down to bite just under your jaw. “Behave,” he warns. “I’ll take care of you.”

He sits up to fully remove your dress. You’re a vision that would be coveted by the Romans who would think you a goddess of the highest renown. Your chest rising and falling, already panting with desperate need. Your eyes staring into his, begging for more, more, more. Your hands reaching out to grab the hem of his red sweater. He grabs them, securing both wrists in just one of his hands to pin them above your head. He tsks with a grin.

“Not yet, darling. I need to make sure I fulfill all your fantasies from earlier, first.” Your face heats up. You have to look away, turning your head to hide your embarrassment against your arm.

He releases your hands, his own sliding down and reaching under you to undo the pretty lace bra you’d bought for yourself with his black card. He’d teased you about trying it on for him when you got back, having seen the purchase on his phone. It very quickly became one of his favorites. He drops it off the side of the bed with your dress, but leaves your panties on, even as you buck up against his hips.

“Patience, remember?”

You groan pathetically. “Please, Sy,” you beg. “Just touch me, please.”

“I was already planning on it, sweetie.”

He leans down over your body again, keeping himself up by his knees as he trails open mouth kisses along your neck. His hands mirror each other, running down the sides of your ribcage, down to your stomach and back, until they reach your breasts. His mouth seeks out your nipple, sucking, licking, savoring the soft flesh against his tongue. You gasp when his teeth nip at the hardened bud, back arching to press your chest further against his mouth.

A beautiful coating of saliva shines on your breast when he pulls away. It becomes lubricant for his thumb as he rubs slow, teasing circles along your areola, pushing his spit around like paint on a canvas before it finally brushes over your nipple. His other hand guides your neglected tit into his mouth, squeezing rough enough to leave marks as he takes his sweet time tending to you.

His red sweater rubs against your overheated bare skin. The soft fibers scrape over your stomach, tickling you and making your body flinch away on instinct. His pants are no better, acting as a solid barrier between your aching heat and the bulge pressing against you. You try to cant your hips up again, trying to get the friction you need, but his hand lets go of your breast to hold you firmly against the mattress.

Your nipple is released from his mouth with a wet pop, covered in saliva and red markings. His lips find your pulse, leaving gentler kisses over the artery. “I wonder what you were thinking about,” he muses, voice rough with lust. He can feel your heart racing against his lips. He’s tempted to bite down like the vampire from his story, but he settles for sucking a mark into the unmarred skin instead. It sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps up your arms, still staying obediently above your head. “Watching my hands… What did you picture, sweetheart?”

The thoughts come rushing in all at once. The beautifully prominent veins on his hand. The way his fingers curled around the joystick. The sinful way he teased your fingers apart while helping you…

The whimper comes utterly unbidden when his fingers trail from your hip to dance across the top of your panties. “Talk to me,” he encourages in a low purr. His fingers curl under the elastic band, slowly teasing one side off of your hip. “What were you thinking of?”

Your face is burning red hot with embarrassment and desire. You always struggle with speaking like this, when he asks you something so simple but so sinful. But you know that he’ll reward you so nicely if you speak up. It’s a dangerous motivator sometimes. “A-At the photobooth, when you wrapped your hand around my neck,” you stutter out.

His eyebrow quirks up with a smirk to match. “Do you like having my hand around your throat, sweetheart?” He lifts his head from your neck, watching as his hand trails from your panties, along your body, over your collarbones to your neck. The way your body twitches with every light brush is addicting. “Do you like knowing…” His palm rests over your trachea, fingers curling around the sides of your neck. “... just how easy it would be for me to… choke you?” He squeezes his fingers lightly for emphasis. He feels when you swallow, throat bobbing against his palm.

You nod slightly, biting your lip to fight back the noises he so easily draws from you. Even still, small whimpers emanate from your throat.

His index finger shifts up to rest along your jaw. He turns your head to the side slightly, taking notice of how your eyes flutter shut under his control.

“Oh, does this kitten like to be controlled? Should I get her a lovely little collar?”

The thought alone draws a mewling whine from deep within you. He chuckles, tilting your head back in place with his thumb as he leans down to capture your mouth. He pulls your lip from your teeth, sucking on it until it's beautifully swollen before he kisses you properly. His tongue delves into you, licking into your pliant mouth with deceptive sweetness as he tightens his hold again. He growls when he hears the hitch in your breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers, releasing the pressure and rubbing his fingers soothingly along the sides of your neck. “What else were you thinking of, hm?”

His red eyes bore into you so calmly, so naturally. It’s hard to keep looking at him, especially as you fight to answer his question. “How big they are,” you admit.

He smiles. It’s such an innocent remark. He knows how big they are compared to yours, how much you love laying your hand over his just to remind yourself. He leaves his hand on your throat, raising the other one to brush his knuckles along your arm as he seeks out your hand. You curl your fingers between his almost instantly, holding onto him like a lifeline. He turns them over to bring your hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles tenderly. “What else?”

You whine, closing your eyes to hide from his stare. “Please don’t make me say it,” you beg.

“Why not?” You don’t answer his question. “Hmm. Shall I guess, then?”

He disentangles from your hand after one last kiss, bringing it to rest in his hair. You dig your hand into the soft locks immediately, like it’s second nature. He kisses your lips softly. The feeling lingers even as he trails kisses down your body once again. Down your neck, over your sternum, taking one detour to bite at your tits. His hand follows in his wake, massaging and caressing your skin.

He shifts to be kneeling between your legs, resting them over his thighs as he reaches your navel. His hand passes him, however, pulling your panties down your other hip. “Am I warm?” His hot breath fans over your stomach, making you shiver. His lips brush sinfully over the edge of the elastic band. His eyes meet yours again.

You nod. His thumb caresses your jaw, a silent praise for answering him. You lift your hips experimentally, worried he’ll push them down again, but his hand slips under you instead, dragging down the fabric over your ass. As more skin is revealed, his kisses get lower. You tug at his hair, trying to push him closer. “Sy, please…”

He hums, tilting his head to rest his cheek against your hip. “Hm? What is it, sweetheart? Do you feel like telling me what you were thinking of now?”

You halfheartedly glare at him. “You’re such a bastard.”

He chuckles. “I know.”

His hand glides smoothly over your ass, fingers guiding your panties further down your thighs. Before you can be fully uncovered, he leans down between your legs to kiss your cunt through the soaked fabric of your panties. You gasp sharply, opening wider for him. He makes sure you’re watching when he gathers the material in his teeth and drags them down. You hope you never forget that sight.

He sits back to remove the final piece of your attire, slipping off your heels in the process. You wish you could sit up and tear his clothes off of him, throw them to the side with reckless abandon to expose his body to you. That thought is immediately gone the second you feel his fingers finally dragging through your folds. Just like he mimicked at the arcade to your fingers, he parts your lips until he finds your clitorus.

“You’re so beautiful,” he hums, the rough edges to his voice softening. He kisses your thighs as he gathers up your slick on two of his fingers, groaning at how absolutely soaked you are. “So fucking gorgeous.”

He raises his coated fingers to your lips. You suck on them without question, moaning around them as you taste yourself, as you lick up every drop he gathered until all that remains is your saliva. He presses down on your tongue, choking you gently at the same time until you gag. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, soothing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl.”

Your scent fills his senses. All he can think about is how good you must taste, how you’d feel clenching around his fingers and tongue as he ravages you, your heady scent consuming his every coherent thought until he’s utterly drunk on your cum.

He can’t wait any longer.

His hands slide down your body to grasp your thighs, spreading them wider, guiding your calves over his shoulders as he dives in like he’s starving on death row and you’re his last meal. He moans as he licks a stripe up your cunt, swallowing everything you can give him and seeking more. His fingers create divots in your skin as they press down, promising bruises as they tug you closer and closer, until your head is barely on the pillows anymore.

You cry out his name through moans and gasps. Both of your hands tangle in his hair, keeping him firmly against you. He nudges his nose against your clit. Your hips jerk to ride his face and he nearly lets you. Any other night, he would have loved to flip you over so you could sit on his face, use him, ride him, until he’s suffocating in all of you. Tonight, though, he pulls his mouth from your weeping hole to suck on your clit.

It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. You’re torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, begging him mindlessly, though you don’t know what for. One of his hands releases your thigh to take over where he left off. One long finger pushes slowly into you, easily accepted with how fucking wet you are, dripping slick down his hand. It fucks into you, curling to rub at your g-spot with a professional expertise. His second finger slides in just as easily, creating a steady rhythm that draws you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Tears slip down your cheeks, so fucking lost to the intensity of his attention to your clit. You’re so fucking close already. Air gets caught in your throat, forcing its way out through ragged moans. You can’t even get the words out to warn him. That swell of pressure builds in your abdomen too fast. Your cunt clenches harshly around his fingers, trying to draw them in deeper. Sylus’s eyes watch your face in a half-lidded haze, desperate to catch the exact moment you come undone for him.

Your thighs squeeze his head as your orgasm snaps inside you. Your head is thrown back against the pillows, fingers in a death grip in Sylus’s hair as your cum gushes out of you. He eases up on your clit when you tremble, shaking your head without conscious thought as it becomes too much. His fingers gently ease you through the afterwaves, hand drenched in your delicious slick. When your hands and your thighs relax, he pulls away.

You blearily open your eyes to watch him clean his hand with his tongue. It curls around his fingers, slides up his wrist and forearm to ensure he doesn’t lose a single drop; licks his lips as he pants for air. His eyes flicker to your cunt. Your walls clench around nothing. Your clit is swollen and sensitive to all hell. As much as he would love to go back in, clean you up with his tongue alone, he resists.

He gently lowers your legs from his shoulders, massaging your thighs to ease the lingering tension from them as he leans down to kiss you softly, sweetly. All you can taste is yourself on his lips. You comb your fingers through his hair, carefully trying to make up for any pain you may have caused. He sighs into your mouth, completely relaxed with your touch.

It’s you who pulls away first, tilting your chin up to get him to let up. He trails his kisses along your cheek instead. “You still haven’t been taken care of,” you point out.

He chuckles airily. “I assure you, I’ve been well taken care of.” You turn your head so he sees your look of confusion. He sighs as he sits back up. Sure enough, there’s a wet spot on the front of his pants that is definitely not from you. Your face burns as you look up at him.

“I… You came just from eating me out?” you gape in disbelief.

His cheeks are pink, too, despite the way he playfully shakes his head. “Don’t let it inflate your ego too much, sweetheart.”

You watch as he gets off the bed to go to the ensuite bathroom. It’s not hard to tell it’s uncomfortable being in his soiled pants, but he gets a wet cloth to take care of you first. You lay back, grinning like an idiot as he tends to the mess you’ve made. “I’m flattered.”

“Leave it alone, kitten.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll spend the rest of the night finding every single way I can make you cum without touching you.”

“...”

“... Promise?”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021

[cosmickid-inmotion]

Oscar Issac Pedro Pascal Pride Event 2025!

Jokes on you sluts, you thought I wasn't gonna do it? WRONG. Why would you think that? Oh. Because I said I wouldn't? Well........ never listen to me.

I will, however, be doing this in a much less stressful way. Mainly, no materlist. Last year I was not organized and did not make a masterlist bc I got overwhelmed. This year for the disability event I was organized. Still. I think this allows me to not over do myself and still make a fun event. THERE WILL BE NO MASTERLIST JUST FUN TIMES AND REBLOGGING

What?: A pride event celebrating the queer potential of the characters in the OI and PP universes! (which sometimes overlap). THIS IS AN MLM EVENT! Just based on me and my interests and what the fandom is, it'd be hard to include like, Marc x Layla. More pride events will be linked below, but this is mine and this is my focus.

When?: Through the month of June! Or just get it done whenever, who cares. Gay all year round. ART, FANFICTION, MOODBOARDS, GIFSETS whatever makes you feel creative! Like making art pieces with vibes but not drawing people? Cool! Wanna make a piece putting the characters with lyrics from the song given? Swell!

Where?: Just tumblr!

Who?: Anyone can participate (Unless I have you blocked plz respect that)

Why?: BC I love being queer

How?

Send me an ask AT ANY POINT in June. I sometimes have to turn anons off so if you are using a side blog just comment here with the info. Send a letter from A-Z and I have a list of corresponding songs. Some I chose for what I feel are GAY AS HELL some were random by my spotify. Note, my music mostly is oldies so expect to get classic rock. A. If you want an Oscar Isaac ship, send a number 1-10. These are either ships with different OI characters (Like Cecil x anselm) or ships within the universe (Like MArc x Matty) B. If you want a Pedro Pascal ship, send a number 11-20. These are either ships with different PP characters (javi p x Joel) or ships within universe (Like Stavier)

I will reply to your ask (or comment) with which pairing you got and the song.

You must use the song for inspiration! It doesnt have to be direct. I won't be policing you. Just give it a listen and feel it out

plz tag AND send it to me via ask or dms bc i lose things easy bc I am. stupid. And I want to be able to reblog everyones work!!

DARK IS ALLOWED: Rules within this is no underage smut and no bestiality. Monster fucking is okay, and if you want to write them as teenagers without smut, that works (kissing is fine). I ask that even if its dark, don't just relly on torture and non con. Make a plot, a point. Try to tell a story, not just senseless violence. This is not a judgement on fics that are dark just to be dark, i've written that too, but i want a plot here, not just queer people suffering.

Themes of addiction, abuse, homo/transphobia, SA, or crossing over the intersectionality of dealing with these issues while being disabled, POC, an immigrant ETC is also allowed. Please do your research for communities you are not a part of.

Different HC's of characters work. If you want to write Joel as trans you can. Asexual and aromantic is allowed. Non binary, agender, bigender, genderfluid etc is allowed. although i said its pretty much MLM event, all these are allowed. If you want to HC a character coming out as a trans woman, well, who am I to judge? DO what you like.

Smut, fluff, angst, no happy ending, major character death, hurt, comfort ALL OF IT is allowed. Last year i wanted to focus more of pride and queer joy, but this event is more open.

No adding or subtracting the relationship given. There's one two throuples, one for OI one for PP but the point is to challenge us! Adding or taking away can take away from that challenge. However if you want someone IN the fic as a friend you can!!

Any questions come to me!

Thank you all for your super amazing support! I'll be tagging people who might be interestested but there is NO PRESSURE AT ALL WHATSOEVER

other Pride events are an Oscar isaac event by @the-oscar-isaac-collective and Pedro Pascal by @mandaloriankait so check them out!!!

[physalian]

How to Make Clean Romance Entertaining

@bananasugarwarrior ask and you shall receive

As an ace/arospec, I approach writing romance very differently than many authors and this is kind of my wish-fulfillment list more than anything.

Biggest detractor of implying anything in scenes you didn’t write: You don’t have those scenes to explore character development. I touched on this in What No One Tells You About Writing #6 and the problem I ran into a few times when writing ENNS and other works is that if you fade to black, you can’t continue important conversation or an exploration of boundaries, or fluffy new emotions, if they’d otherwise be in those missing scenes. Sex scenes are, unfortunately, prime real estate for some rich character development.

So you have to work all that rich character development around it. It’s up to you where you want to draw the line of “use your imagination” but everything up to the missing smut, and after, remains more prime real estate. You have loads of other options to explore clean intimacy and some I borrowed from this list that I reblogged about ways to show non-sexual intimacy between characters.

There’s more to a relationship to explore between your characters than just how good each other is in the bedroom. Here’s a few suggestions:

Tragic Backstory stuff and emotional boundaries

One teaching the other a niche or important skill to succeed/survive

A common physical threat, like monetary problems, job insecurity, sickness, or an actual challenge/quest/adventure/mission

A common emotional threat, like a lack of communication, or exercising an anxiety or phobia, or issues over speaking their minds

A common goal: Marriage, children, a new car or home, competing for joint acceptance into a team/group/club/prize competition

There’s also plenty for your love interests to think about their significant others aside from how sexy they are and how badly they want to get in their pants.

Introvert A can love how much B is an extrovert, or vice versa

A loves that B is good with animals, or children, the elderly, etc

A can love B’s skill and passion for their hobbies or a movement they believe in, or their stances on morality and the actions they take to back it up

A can love B’s skill as a teacher, their patience, kindness, and understanding

A can love B’s relationships with their friends and family, their maturity (or lack thereof), their work ethic

A can love B’s quirks and tics, like how they organize things or if they sing in the shower or how they dance when they’re listening to headphones

Point being:

And take this with a grain of biased salt because I’m ace and think sex is superfluous anyway: If you can’t write your characters in love with each other without sex, I won’t believe they’re in love with sex. Fiction, for me, that takes the narrative shortcut of “these two are the main couple of course they’re going to get together, I don’t have to do any work on writing why they’re in love you just came here for sex” annoy me, and quite a lot of other people, too, if the amount of gay ships that ignore the canon hetero couple are anything to go by.

The arc of their relationship doesn’t have to culminate in sex. Their arc should be specific to what these two characters want to achieve out of a romantic relationship. For a lot of people, that’s sex, but for others, maybe it’s just someone to cuddle on the couch with and watch movies, or someone they can finally trust and let in and be emotionally vulnerable with. Someone they can explore the town with, or travel, or take to dinner. Someone who doesn’t belittle them or laugh at them or disregard their interests.

Substitute relationship climaxes other than sex:

A finally trusts B with a secret they’ve been hiding for fear of ridicule, and B accepts them wholeheartedly (not Liar Revealed)

A and B finally perfect some routine they’ve been slaving over for months (like a dance or if they’re combat partners, a difficult maneuver)

A has been in love, but in doubt, and finally understands that B is The One when B is the only one to show up for A’s big speech/recital/presentation/gallery that no one else cares about

A has never let themselves be in love and it’s something wholly unspectacular that completely bowls them over with an epiphany

A is touch-averse and their biggest leap into physical intimacy is a huge hug, and B can’t be prouder of them

A and B narrowly survive some dangerous situation and have a serious realignment of priorities and newfound mad respect for each other

Actually, circling back to the whole “gay ships that ignore the canon hetero couple” thing:

This has been said before but if you’re looking for how to write a romantic relationship without sex, look no further than the male leads of many mainstream pieces of pop culture. Here, the presumption of romance isn’t built in, thus the writer has to actually put in effort to make these two characters like and respect each other, and give them things to talk about that isn’t just flirting. That’s what makes them feel more believable than the main man’s relationship with the cardboard lady lead.

[peachdues]

Hiiiiiii Peach .

Could you do a NSFW alphabet with Sanemi and Setsuna. It'd be so cute to see their intimate intentions and how they treat each other in bed and stuff.

Also I hope you're having a good October and that everything us well with you. I honestly wish you nothing but the best dear.

Xx

SOMEONE ASKING ABOUT SETSUNEMI??? HERE??? lamalakakalalsmnslsms i am starry-eyed right now!!

Tbh, Wind & Moon is Setsuna’s and Sanemi’s story — I’ve been writing it with Setsuna as the FMC, and I plan to search + replace all references to “Setsuna” with “you” when it comes time for publication alsnskaksma. In that sense, I can’t give much away without giving away key parts of the story/their relationship.

That said, if people are interested, I would share the smut scenes I *have* written for Sanemi and Setsuna — I guess that depends on whether people want to read “Setsuna” or still would rather see Sanemi x Reader, if that makes sense? Like, this is the best example:

So, yeah 😭 this is directly from Wind and Moon, just in its original form. If people want to see more, I’m cool with that! But if they’d rather read it from the x Reader POV, I get that.

All in all, I will give you some key takeaways to answer your ask:

Sanemi is a virgin in this. I deliberately leave open whether Setsuna/WAM!Reader is based on earlier events in the story, and I want people to draw their own conclusions

Because of said events earlier in the story, Setsuna is NOT open to missionary or doggy for a long, LONG time. Either she tops, they’re on their sides, or they’re standing/sitting, but her back is a big issue for her. They do eventually do it in missionary though (after one prior failed attempt).

She tends to be a little more focused on her movements during the deed than he is. Sanemi has more of the lost in the sauce/caught up in the emotion of the moment kind of vibe.

Both cry at various points during sex because both get overwhelmed by their feelies.

Sanemi is just as much of a pussy connoisseur in this as I’ve HC’ed him elsewhere — and he’s a VERY fast learner

The first time they kiss, they almost fuck — against a training pole at his estate. They get interrupted, and he tells begs her to meet him back at his estate later that night. She ends up shooting him down. Angst. But there are funnier bits/sweeter moments later on.

He’s incredibly gentle and patient with her at all times.

Finally, peep below for a bonus look at her turning his ass down that first time, if you’d like!

“Setsuna — wait —“

His fingers closed around her wrist, halting her. And though Setsuna did not resist him as he tugged her around to face him, she did not bridge the distance between them. She did not move to embrace him again.

With a shaky breath, she peered up at him through her eyelashes and beheld his anxious, pleading stare.

Sanemi’s eyes searched hers as though he already knew. “Don’t go.” He pled. “Stay —“

“I can’t.”

Sanemi stepped closer, his head bowing down toward hers until their foreheads nearly touched. “Why?”

“You know why.” She whispered.

He shook his head, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before caressing her cheek. “If you’re not ready, we can wait. As long as you need. I won’t push you — I’d never push you —“

It took everything she had not to melt into the comfort of his touch. “It’s not a matter of whether I’m ready, Sanemi. We can’t do this — you and I both know we can’t.”

[m1lfsh4ke]

Heyyyy, would you be able to do a student reader (student is 18) x Marilyn fic where student is cockwarming with Marilyn. Basically Marilyn is busy marking papers in her office but reader wants to be with her so Marilyn makes her sit on her lap whilst Marilyn is inside her??? I know this is a lot to ask so feel free to not write if it makes you uncomfortable 😭😭

Full of you | (18+)

warnings : cockwarming + riding + teacher/student + dirty talk + smut

hi anon :D ! I want to be entirely honest with you, this is my first time actually writing something that dealt with cockwarming, so my knowledge is poorly limited. I've read a few fics here and there to understand the fundamentals but I'm not sure if it does me any justice😭.

"Staying up late again?" your body lazily dragged itself to Ms. Thornhill's private office, her big hazel eyes darting towards the door as you closed it behind you with a click to the lock.

"Sweetheart.." she breathed out, "shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

"The bed felt empty without you, made it hard to get some rest." you pouted, pulling Marilyn's chair out enough to make some space just to squeeze yourself in and sit on top of her. "mph.. much better.." you softly whimpered, burying your face in the croak of her neck taking in her bittersweet scent, as one of her hands held you at your lower back, and the other resuming to marking papers.

As her hand rubbed the small of your back, she started to become aware of the clothing you were wearing. The fabric glided up beneath her fingertips when her hand hiked up your spine, making her feel a slight touch of your bare skin when she lowered it back down.

"You wore your nightdress when coming down?" Her voice interrupted you, making you pull away from the warmth of her neck to look up at her.

"I'm sorry, yes?" you giggled, not knowing what the issue was when its 11pm--way past the students time to be roaming the campus. "Is there a problem?" You fucking knew how possessive Ms. Thornhill was when it came to her star student being perceived by others, but you found it painfully attractive to be put in place by her.

"What if someone saw you in this." The dress was white, silk making it easier to draw out the shape of your breasts and your hardened nipples.

You got closer to her ear, planting a kiss just below her earlobe, feeling her body shiver. The hem of your nightdress was above your thighs, making your movements easier as you ground your clothed pussy down on Marilyn, making the two of you whimper. "They're not the one fucking it off of me" you breathed out with a smile, still continuing to grind down on Ms. Thornhill's already evident bulge.

She dropped her pen, whimpering at the friction as her hips stuttered up to feel more of you. "Poor baby.. here, let me get that for you." Your hand snaked its way to the waistband of her pants with your fingertips lightly playing with the hem. "Continue grading your papers, I'll take care of you" You kissed the side of her lips, finally dipping your hand past the waistband of her pants as she gasped, feeling your fingertips graze her dick.

"Fuck- keep playing with me, feels so good-" Her hips started to buck to your touch which you found adorable.

Tugging her pants along with her boxers down, you licked a stride of your hand and started to pump her dick, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. "feels good doesn't it? little slut loves to fuck herself on my hand, yeah?" She tried her best to make her handwriting look neat and not wobbly, but that came to no avail as you started to line your dripping pussy atop of her.

Sinking down to her length, she let out a guttural moan as you hushed her with a kiss, tugging on her bottom lip.

"Sh-fuckk!- So big, Mari.." you whimpered, fully taking in her whole while you sat there for a moment. You could feel her dick throb inside of you as she tried her best inputting test scores.

"C-can I fuck you, please?" Her big doe eyes looked up at you as you looked in awe, caressing her face and brushing her hair away from her eyes.

"My polite baby, of course" Placing a kiss on her forehead, you grabbed her by her wrist and settled them on your hips as you sort of lifted yourself up from her lap, making her moan at how wet you felt.

She tightened her grasp on your hips as she started to fuck up to you, whimpering at how easy it is for her dick to slide in and out of you.

"That's it- ri-right there, yes!-" You slammed your hips down, taking her full length again, making the poor woman cry out a moan.

"My sweet angel, is this too much for you? Mommy fucking this dick good?" You panted out, continuing to relentlessly ride her as a strap from your dress began to fall down to your shoulders, exposing your cleavage as your boobs bounced every time you rode her.

"Fuck- Let me cum please- Wanna make sure you walk back to the room with my cum leaking down your thighs-" You moaned at her words, bouncing on top of her even faster as you leaned back against her desk

"Mari, sh-shit!-" A loud wanton moan escaped past your lips as she fucked you deep, painting your walls white. Her legs shook when you continued to slowly bounce on her, helping her ride out her high.

[thejesusofsuburbiabutcringe]

I Was Sexually Harassed by a Smiling Friends Fanfiction Writer.

I'm scared to write this and put it out, but I need to do what I can to protect this community that I love so much from this individual that emotionally and mentally traumatized and harmed me. This was not an easy decision to tell this story publicly. I'm telling my story to seek justice and awareness for myself and others. I refuse stay silent about creepy and manipulative behavior, even when the individual begged me to stay silent. I will not. I have documented screenshots of Tumblr messages to serve as evidence for my case at the end of this post.

This is my story:

It was Sunday, April 27th 2025. I was messaging the Tumblr user Mason24683, who also wrote the fics "Pim's Purgatorio" and "The Smiling Friends Go To The Main Section of Purgatory" on AO3. We'd been mutuals for a few months, sharing and talking about our work and other fics. That day, he messaged me about a smut fic that he requested from the author Charlie'sAwesomeParty on AO3 (excellent writer, by the way) and we had some back and forth about the topic. I am comfortable speaking about smut in the general sense within fictional contexts of writing and storytelling, but what happened next was where the issue arose. Within that discussion, he sent me unsolicited messages detailing his personal sexual kinks and fetishes while also revealing that a drawing I had made for him as well as drawings made by @melis-hellis, unknown to both of us at the time, contained one of his kinks. He admitted that he got aroused by our drawings/the idea of our drawings at one point in time. Even though he requested them for the purpose of the fic, it still (unknown to us) contained a sexual kink that he got aroused to. In the same text bubbles, he admits that these words would surely make me uncomfortable, but the messages were sent regardless. He did this knowing it would hurt me, and it did.

I then ask him why he said all that, which he said that he was unsocial and didn't know better, assuming that our previous discussion warranted those messages. They did not. There is a firm line between sexuality in fiction and personal sexuality. I did not consent to know about the latter. Also, it's contradictory since he did indeed know better if he stated that the messages would likely make me uncomfortable. At the time, I was shocked and didn't have all my feelings processed, so I simply said that I was shocked that he said that and that his words about my drawing should've stayed to himself. During this talk, he slips in questions about my progress on my fic as if he was trying to divert the conversation away from his actions. During that time, I did reply to the diversion, again, shocked and not processing things completely. Within that diversion response, I told him to not share his personal sexual things to people without consent because people wouldn't take kindly to it. I wish I said things differently overall in retrospect, but I give myself grace since I was shocked, scared, and didn't process everything yet at the time.

Then, he blamed his autism for his actions, which I take great offense to as someone who is autistic, too. Neurodivergency is never an excuse to sexually harass someone. He then asked me to delete our messages to forget it ever happened. I did not agree nor did I do that. I refuse to sweep away something that hurt me significantly. He also told me not to tell anyone, which I never explicitly agreed to do, nor will I. This felt too serious not to talk about, so that's what I'm doing right now. If you violate my space and personhood, I have no obligation to respect your wishes, especially if it involves keeping quiet about sexual harassment. Despite him profusely apologizing, the action was still done and it permanently destroyed my perception of him. Even though we exchanged some normal conversation afterwards, I still couldn't shake the discomfort. The more I reflected upon it, the more anxious and distraught it made me, causing a panic attack and looming emotional burdens that carried with me throughout the following days. I feel so used and violated by this person who I was nothing but supportive and kind to. I have since blocked him on Tumblr and AO3. I no longer associate with him nor support his work.

He tricked me into making him fetish content and sent me unsolicited sexual messages. Even if it wasn't the only reason for the art request, asking for a drawing that contains a sexual fetish that you personally gain sexual pleasure from is fetish content. Doing so without informing me is manipulative. No excuses. I would not have drawn that if I knew. Telling someone your own kinks and fetishes without consent is sexual harassment. It's a fact. This made me uncomfortable. A boundary has been crossed. My space, feelings, and personhood has been violated. It will take time to heal from this incident, but I will move forward and keep my head up despite all the pain.

After the initial incident, I told @universallydestinytaco about what happened to gain a second opinion and plans of actions since I trust him. He agreed that what happened was wrong and he confronted Mason about his behavior. Mason then proceeded to gaslight all of us about us being wrong about our thoughts and misinterpreting his words. After a long chain of communication between me, Mason, Universally Destiny Taco, and Melis, it ended up with Mason deleting his Tumblr and AO3, proving his guilt since no innocent person would delete everything and leave once the accusations arose. He's gone from the community as of now and no one else will be further hurt by his actions.

So, the story ends there, so why am I telling this? It's to protect this community that I hold dear. People need to know about the things that happen behind closed doors and sometimes hidden in plain sight. There are some people you can't trust or people that will hurt you. It's important to share these stories to protect ourselves and others from these types of people and bring justice to the victims and due punishment to those who have harmed. If you have been harmed by someone in a significant way, please feel free to speak up. It's not easy to do, but it can help others and yourself. There will always be people out there to support you. Please look after yourselves and those you care about. Please share this post to anyone that would benefit from this information. If you have something to say, the notes is a safe space to do so.

A warm and special thank you to @universallydestinytaco for allowing me to open up and helping me navigate this challenging time and @melis-hellis for providing more context and information for this situation. I wouldn't have been able to seek closure without you two, thank you.

Under this cut is the evidence I present for my case. With permission from the previous two people, I have also added their own screenshots to extend and round out the story.

Click "Keep Reading" to view all of our receipts:

My own message screenshots:

The exchanges between me, him, @universallydestinytaco, and @melis-hellis:

If you've read this far, I thank you deeply. Take care and stay safe out there ❤️

[wehaveimagineshere]

Hmmmmmm. Noticed no one has requested some Carlos smut yet and that last fic gave me an idea. How about a fic where the two "break in their new bed" for the first time. afab if you need specifics. Happy writing!

(Also idk if this will be an issue but could you avoid the topic of degradation? It's a bit of a trigger for me. Just wanna make sure cuz sometimes people add it in when I don't specify. Thanks.)

Thank you for being my first Carlos smut request <3 I've been so excited to write this, you have no idea.

Of course! Honestly, I'm not much of a fan of degradation myself. Besides, I think Carlos has a huge praise kink and wouldn't even think about degrading unless it was something his s/o was into. Thank you for specifying and making sure (: I always want to write something that makes the requestor happy, so I never want to make you uncomfortable. The more specifics, the better!

~*~*~

A new place always came with an undercurrent of excitement. Finding where each little nick knack belongs, decorating just the right way to scratch that long time itch, learning more about the person you're with by seeing how they unpack with you.

It was always a lot of work, but by the end of the day, seeing all the new placements and knowing everything is yours can't be beat.

"Look at it," you hear Carlos from the bedroom as you peek your head in. Hands on hips, you find his eyes surveying the bed.

"Look at...the bed?" you ask, lips pulling up.

"Yeah, look at it. It's so...neat."

"....Yeeaahh?"

"We can't have a neat bed."

"....Wwhhyyyy?"

"Because you and me don't do neat beds." He smiles at the utterly confused look you give him. "We need to break it in."

"Break in a bed?"

"Yeah. You. Me. Naked. On this bed. Having the hottest sex of our lives."

Your eyebrows raise as you give the bed another, different appraisal, and the heat in your eyes as you shift your gaze back to your husband makes him smirk. Giving a dramatic sigh, you lean against the doorframe. "I really wanted to get the kitchen all unpacked before the day was over though."

He takes a step toward you. "Did you?"

Looking at your nails in faux attention, you sigh again. "It might take all night."

You hear him chuckle, then feel his hands glide down your sides to rest on your hips. "You need to take a break at some point." His fingers find the edge of your shirt and push up, fingertips grazing your skin.

"Breaks are important." Abandoning your nails, you wrap your arms around his neck and plant a kiss to his jaw. "What did you have in mind?"

Warm hands trail up your sides and spine, tugging your shirt up with them. "You, me, and this bed." Before you can respond, he steals your lips with your own, diving his tongue into your mouth almost desperately.

You immediately draw closer, pressing your body up against his, returning the kiss with equal fervor. He breaks apart only to shuck your shirt off, hands immediately going back to trailing fire across your skin as your own fingers find their way into his hair.

His kisses are always intoxicating, and by the time your knees hit the edge of the bed, you've lost your pants and he's lost his shirt. As your back hits the brand new comforter, his lips find your collarbone, trailing down your sternum, find a nipple and suck it in, teeth biting down just enough to smart.

Your back arches without your consent, flames licking down your veins as his tongue flicks across your nipple before moving to the next, a stray hand stroking gently down your stomach and along the edges of your panties.

You're squirming by the time his lips abandon your chest and move lower, that incessant hand still stroking, teasing. It's not until his lips graze your panties that that hand hooks and takes the fabric down your thighs, bearing you to the tongue that quickly slides between your folds.

Hands grip the comforter as your breath hitches, and you can feel Carlos' smile against your skin as he licks you again, and again, gripping your thighs to keep you still. He keeps a slow, agonizing pace, pressure almost a whisper, and you love and hate that he's pressing your hips down to prevent the friction you so crave.

When your nerves are wired and anticipation drips between your legs Carlos finally leans back, quickly chucking the rest of his clothes to the floor and slides up, positioning himself at your entrance as he kisses you, your taste flooding your mouth.

"Ready sweetheart?" he asks, voice husky, and all you can do is nod.

He goes slow, giving you time to adjust as he slides in. Your hands grip his shoulders as he fills you, stretches you, the fire turning to molten lava when he makes it to the hilt and slides out. A nod from you tells him you're okay, and that's when he really moves.

Not too fast, not too slow, he finds just the perfect rhythm to get you a squirming, sweating mess. Breathing becomes an afterthought as his thumb pressing against your clit and all you can feel is him, the pressure, the movement, the friction, and you know he's driving you the climax when your stomach tightens.

"Look at you," you hear him breathe, thumb rubbing circles over your swollen clit.

"Carlos," you nearly beg, language slipping from your mind and tongue like sand.

"I know, baby. Cum for me."

So you do.

It slams into your hard and fast, wiping your vision into white as you arch back and cry out, nerves fraying and snapping as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into you.

"I've got you," you hear him beside your ear, not knowing when he'd wrapped his arms around you. "I've got you." Kisses pepper your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw. "I've got you."

Finally you can take a breath, the stars in your vision fizzing out. Carlos brings your head to his chest, his heartbeat loud and fast. "Give us both a couple minutes and we can keep going."

A chuckle escapes as you lean over and give his cheek a kiss, a hand already gliding down his stomach. "You think you get a rest, big guy?"

The smile he gives you is absolutely wicked.

[sweetiiami-writes]

" tis the time to settle down

　　enjoy a treat, maybe ! "

　　

　

💕☁️💕☁️💕

introduction:

💕💕 you may call me sweetii! I go by they/them and I'm aroace! I wanted to share my love for fandoms without having to draw as I suffer from frequent bouts of depression that make it hard for me to draw. I hope you all appreciate my work!

💕💕 please note that I will not write smut on this blog, with only SUGGESTIVE WORKS being present. Anything needing a TW will all be marked appropriately!

anon list ☁️💕 order queue

💕☁️💕☁️💕

rules:

My rules are subject to change.

Don't:

—call me Lopil on this blog. While yeah, it is me, I'd rather you keep my brand separate from my personal work.

—spam my inboxes every day. While I appreciate the reminder, I don't need to be constantly reminded about my inbox every time as I run this blog for fun.

—drag me into writing drama. It's not my thing and it'll only dampen people's moods. I'll only share what is important and that is it. I won't involve myself.

—request anything that isn't on my list. If you aren't sure if I will be willing to write for it, please ask me!

—beg me to write something I already declined. I reserve the right to decide what I will and will not write.

—make me write anything racist/lgbtphobic/sexist/proship/incest etc. it's an expectation, if I see requests like this in my inbox, I will block you.

Do:

—remind me a week after your request has been posted. I tend to forget things very easily, so this is appreciated. If I have already gotten to it, it is probably already in queue, and I'll post your ask with a link to the writing as soon as it's out!

—add tone tags. I am terrible with reading tone, please do this!

—use an anon tag. This is to keep track of my anons! Of which I'll list in a separate post!

—read with an open mind. I'll explore topics such as abuse, self-harm etc. But I will ensure not to romanticise those subject matter. I encourage you to read analytically and digest the writing with care.

—speak up if I happen to make an error. I will analyze my post and ensure to fix the mistake and/or better myself as a hobbyist writer!

—ask me if anything needs clarification! I won't bite if you ask a question, if anything, I'm more afraid of getting things wrong, so don't be afraid to ask me things!

On smut/suggestive work:

I won't be writing smut but suggestive work will be present. If I feel it borders on smut, though, I will mark it as mature. I have nothing against those who like smut, it's just a boundary of mine.

Please feel free to block the tw: suggestive tag if you are not privy to this kind of writing. Don't worry, neither am I.

If you harass me over my boundaries I will block you.

💕☁️💕☁️💕

My workflow:

💕💕 To be transparent about my process, my workflow is as follows:

Receive a request in inbox.

Post the ask with a "pending req tag".

Work on the writing and then put the post in queue.

Reblog to the posted reply with a link to the finished product!

If ever possible, post immediately!

If anything is disturbed by personal issues, update with a reblog post before reblogging again.

💕💕 This is to keep my process as mess-free as possible while maintaining a proper schedule. My queue releases posts every 12p.m. GMT+8, so keep on the lookout!

💕☁️💕☁️💕

What I will write for!

Legend:

Bold — Interested

　Pink — Favorite/Will write more of (Or if heart is ♥︎)

　　Itallic — Comfort

　　　Blue — Tenative/Will consider

FANDOMS:

♥︎ Forsaken ♥︎ Blocktales: Swords Of Time ♡ Pressure ♡ Phighting! ♡ Studio Investigrave games ♡ Cookie Run ♡ The Robloxia: Until Dawn ... more to be added.

WRITING:

♥︎ Headcanons ♡ Ficlets ♡ Short drabbles ♥︎ Platonic ♡ AUs ♡ Character x Character ♥︎ Character x Reader ♡ OC x Reader ♡ Age Regression (NOT SEXUAL.) ♡ Suggestive works (Read the rules on suggestive works!)

What to put in an order:

💕💕 While I can write from simple prompts, to get the result you want, please be more detailed with your order!

Fandom + Character(s)

Genre (Remember to specify if suggestive works may be included)

Kind of req (HCs, Drabble etc...)

Prompt and what you want! Make sure it has enough detail that I can write for it!

Thank you for reading my rules and stopping by my blog!

please check the read more for the tags!!

　

　

" won't you stay ?

　　for a while longer ? "

💕☁️💕☁️💕

#talks ♡ sweetii talks!

#ask ♡ sweetii answers!

#writing ♡ sweetii writes!

#req pending ♡ pending order...

#req in queue ♡ on the way!

#req complete ♡ bon appetite!

#headcanons ♡ petit four

#drabbles ♡ pretty pastry

#platonic req ♡ table for one

#romantic req ♡ table for two

#x reader ♡ universal solution

#x character ♡ intertwined souls

#ocs ♡ born of words and fiction

#age regression ♡ soft marshmallows

#suggestive ♡ peek behind the curtains (BLOCK THIS OR tw: suggestive IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SUGGESTIVE WORKS)

[geesecanon]

some final “evidence in the epistolary” thoughts now that the fic is done and where the series (dubbed Concentricity, which spell check will NOT stop telling me isnt a real word) will go

really weird to think that, when i started this fic, i had no real idea where to take it, and thought the end was kind of derivative; i pushed really hard to make it feel earned and like a natural conclusion. everyones kind words have made me feel much better about it so, thank you for that :')

this was the first multi-chapter thing i have ever posted in my many years writing fic, reader insert or otherwise, and im really glad this is the fandom i debuted such a 'long form' fic in because i have gotten nothing but support and it means the world!!!!! ily!!!!! i wouldn't have dedicated so much time and effort into refining this thing without everyones comments and asks and such. im very proud of what i put out

(there are admittedly some things i wish i wouldve done differently but it wouldnt be the same story then, so...) (happy to answer any questions on that front if people are curious also!)

the 'yayyy they kissed' is a nice little pin if that is where the audience wants it to end, but it is not lost on me that ford has a true plethora of trust issues down to his core and that isnt going away because someone admitted to enjoying his presence. that stuff takes time and even if i can handwave ford and reader having months of communique behind them, whatever theyve got going on now is new territory and that starts from square one.

ALL this being said, the original idea for "Evidence in the Epistolary" was maybe 3 paragraphs of backstory in ANOTHER fic i was working on back in feb. so now.... i will simply return to that fic to explore what comes next. it'll take a much different shape than originally intended but is meant to explore ford and the reader learning to trust and be patient with one another, in terms of being intimate or otherwise. the plan is to make it nsfw -- we'll see how far i get in this idea since, despite my ao3 track record, i dont write smut often and think its one of my weaker skills. so this will be a fun way to train those muscles! hopefully! maybe?

(there may also be a third fic somewhere in the works but dont worry about that)

it'll be a little bit of time until the next fic is ready to start posting, mostly cause its still majorly unplanned vis-a-vis plot (its currently all vibes), but ill be steadily chipping away at it! in the meantime, i may try to write short things to stay up-to-date in the fandom and continue to get to talk to people about this old man <3 awkward old man enjoyers unite

anyways! as thanks for reading this far and for all the support, here's a prelim preview (subject to change) from the next fic, Kinetic Mixing at Strong Coupling:

You are far from a lawyer, let alone any kind of wordsmith; you work in the sciences for a reason, and that reason legalese makes your head spin and you have never once read the Terms and Conditions of anything. Still, maybe drafting some kind of definition is in order? Drawing up a short contract of sorts, so both of you are on the same page? The last thing you want to do is overstep. The last thing you want is to lose this from an entirely avoidable misunderstanding The two of you had had a lot of those: avoidable misunderstandings. The idea of the contract is not entirely unwarranted… You shake your head a little. What the fuck. Maybe this bad sleep thing is actually starting to get to you. You rip the page from the notebook, take a minute to fold it neatly into a paper airplane, being precise with the creases. Then you squint one eye closed and aim the thing towards the wastepaper basket across the room. It misses.

[doormatty3]

Pushing Further - Josh POV (Josh Lambert x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary:

[Josh Lambert x Female Reader] [Josh Lambert x You] In hindsight, I could sense the trouble brewing before I knew it. However, I failed to anticipate that the trouble wouldn't manifest in Daltons and my usual arguments but rather in the form of one of his fellow students. She’s beautiful, funny, and yet, inconveniently, she happens to be not only my son's friend but also considerably younger than I am. Despite the inherent complications and the boundaries that should logically keep us apart, there's an undeniable magnetic pull drawing us closer together, a force neither of us can seem to resist – like celestial bodies orbiting each other, inevitably destined for collision. And boy, do we collide.

OR: How I fucked his friend in a college dorm room.

Wordcount: 8,611

Warnings: 18+, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, smut, dirty talk, older man/ younger woman, daddy issues

A/N: I was asked to write this story from Joshs POV - so here we are. If you want read-chans POV - click here

God, why did I tell Dalton I’d take him to college?

It seemed like a good idea at the time, a chance to bond and perhaps bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing day. But now, as I navigate the car into the crowded parking lot, I’m not so sure anymore. Dalton, with his sharp wit and unforgiving judgment, always seems to find fault in my every word. 

The college, a towering grey stone building, only adds to my unease. Its presence looms over us, a silent witness to our strained dynamic.

We exit the car silently and wordlessly, our shared tension palpable in the air. Words linger on the tip of my tongue, but they dissolve into the abyss of uncertainty. Together, we retrieve Dalton’s belongings, each shouldering a backpack and crate. 

As we trudge towards the entrance of the college, the weight of the crates mirrors the weight of our shared silence.

The sun casts its golden glow over the bustling campus, illuminating the scene with warmth, and I find myself immersed in a vibrant tapestry of new beginnings. Students move about, their laughter and chatter filling the air with excitement while parents guide their children towards the threshold of their next chapter. 

Yet, amidst this sea of optimism, melancholy washes over me. 

I observe the seamless interactions around me and the apparent ease with which other parents navigate the situation. They exude confidence and composure, their futures brimming with promise, while Dalton and I struggle to exchange even a civil word without it erupting into conflict.

As we stroll along the campus pathways, my gaze drifts lazily over the lush canopy of trees that envelop the college grounds.

Suddenly, my breath catches in my throat as my eyes settle on her. 

A woman, nestled beneath the shade of a sprawling tree, captivates my attention. She’s young, probably a senior or a new professor, finding solace in the embrace of nature. 

The wind teases the strands of her hair, coaxing them into a mesmerising dance, rippling and swaying with every gust. Each movement seems orchestrated, a ballet of nature’s own design, accentuating her effortless grace. 

Despite my best efforts to avert my gaze, I find myself drawn to her, captivated by the ethereal beauty she exudes. 

I quickly shake my head, chastising myself for entertaining such thoughts. It’s unwelcome, inappropriate, a mere distraction from the turmoil brewing in my life.

Each step feels uncertain. The distance between us echoes the chasm of misunderstanding that has grown over time. As we traverse the campus pathways, the vibrant pulse of student life surrounds us, a stark reminder of the vibrant community we’re a part of yet somehow apart from.

The dormitories loom ahead, their brick facades standing as silent sentinels against the sky’s backdrop. I steal a glance at Dalton, noting the furrow of his brow and the tension etched in the lines of his face. Despite our shared silence, a sense of determination flickers within me. Perhaps amidst the chaos of new beginnings, we can find a moment of clarity, a chance to bridge the chasm that divides us.

_____

As we reach Dalton’s dormitory room, a sense of anticipation lingers in the air, mingling with the faint scent of freshly laundered linens. The door swings open to reveal a surprisingly inviting space, a quintessential collage of collegiate life. The room is cosy yet functional, with twin beds neatly made, their comforters adorned with vibrant patterns that hint at the personality of its occupants.

Sunlight filters through the window, casting a warm glow upon the worn wooden desk and mismatched chairs that occupy the room. 

With a nod of approval, Dalton steps into the room, his eyes scanning the space with a hint of satisfaction. 

“Alright, you get first dibs,” I announce, relieved to find Dalton’s roommate absent. With a grateful sigh, I set down the folding crate on the sturdy wooden table, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling into my muscles from lugging Dalton’s belongings.

_____

I watch silently as Dalton retrieves his drawings and paintings from the crate, his movements purposeful as he begins to arrange them on the wall above his bed. My gaze drifts downward, drawn to a particular pencil drawing among his creations. With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, I reach out and pick it up, my fingers tracing the delicate lines with reverence.

It’s a portrait of my mother - his grandmother - a hauntingly beautiful rendition that captures her essence with startling clarity. A pang of loss reverberates through me as memories of her flood my mind, her presence a bittersweet reminder of the love and warmth she brought into our lives.

“Wow, this is intense,” I remark softly, unable to tear my eyes away from the drawing. “Is that what you’ve been working on?”

Dalton turns around, his expression clouded with annoyance as he sees me holding the drawing. With a weary sigh, he mutters, “Put it back.”

But I can’t bring myself to comply. “No, this is really good,” I insist, my voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

I wish he would just accept the compliment, let down his guard and allow me to share in his world. 

I gaze at the drawing once more, my eyes tracing the intricate lines and shadows that bring my mother’s image to life. “Did you do this from memory?” I inquire, my curiosity piqued.

“No,” Dalton replies quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “It’s from a photo I found at the house.”

I nod in understanding, a swell of pride swelling within me. “Wow, it looks like she’s...” I begin, searching for the right words to convey the mix of emotions stirred by the portrait. But before I can finish my thought, Dalton interjects with a sombre observation.

“Like she’s hiding something?” he suggests, his tone tinged with melancholy.

His words catch me off guard, prompting me to furrow my brow in confusion. “What do you mean?” I inquire, my mind racing to make sense of his cryptic statement.

“It’s what it feels like,” Dalton explains, his voice tinged with resignation. “Felt like for the last few years.”

His words hang heavy in the air between us, a silent testament to the unspoken tensions that have simmered beneath the surface of our relationship. 

“She had a tough go, you know, being a single mom,” I murmur, my voice heavy with empathy.

As Dalton begins to speak, I tear my gaze away from the portrait, focusing once more on his words. “Yeah, yeah, that’s tough,” he replies, his voice carrying a note of resignation.

I can sense the unspoken pain lingering beneath his words,  knowing that his acknowledgement extends beyond mere recognition of my words. It’s a painful reminder of the sacrifices my ex-wife made, the burden she bore alone in raising our children.

With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly set the photo down once more, my gaze drifting back to the folding crate, trying to busy myself with unpacking.

____

I pivot on my heels, my gaze drawn towards the wall adorned with Dalton’s paintings. Each one is a testament to his talent, his brushstrokes capturing moments of intimacy and connection - moments that prominently feature his mother and siblings. But as I scan the array of images, a pang of bitterness lingers within me, a reminder of my absence from his artistic portraits.

“Guess I didn’t make the wall, huh?” I remark bitterly, unable to suppress the pang of hurt that accompanies the realisation of my exclusion.

Before he can offer an explanation, I raise a hand to halt his words, and my jaw clenches in an effort to mask my disappointment. “I don’t blame you,” I mutter quietly, the words heavy with resignation as I turn away, unwilling to confront the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

Turning away, I busy myself with organising the remaining contents of the folding crate, the weight of disappointment settling over me like a shroud.

I feel Dalton’s gaze linger on me, his silence weighing heavily in the air between us. With a heavy sigh, I muster the courage to speak, the words tumbling out in a rush as I attempt to articulate the tangled mess of emotions swirling within me.

“You know, I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately,” I confess, my voice tinged with a mixture of regret and vulnerability. “Of course, my dad wasn’t around at all...but...so it could be a lot worse.”

I pause, searching for the right words to convey the inner turmoil that has consumed me in recent years. “I’ve just been a little foggy these last few years,” I continue, my voice faltering slightly as I try to explain the inexplicable fog that clouds my thoughts and memories.

Admitting my struggles to Dalton is a daunting task - one that fills me with a sense of shame and inadequacy. But I need him to understand, to see beyond the facade of strength I’ve worn for so long.

“I don’t know...my brain just...” I trail off, my thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. “I just...haven’t been able to manage time for you, your brother, and sister,” I confess, my voice tinged with a note of desperation. It sounds like a flimsy excuse, I know that, but it’s the only explanation I can offer at this moment.

It feels feeble and inadequate in the face of the pain I’ve caused my family through my absence. 

“Have you ever thought about getting help?” he asks, his voice gentle yet probing.

As Dalton’s voice breaks the weighty silence, I’m momentarily taken aback, my gaze lifting to meet his with a hint of surprise. His question hangs in the air, heavy with concern and genuine curiosity. A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips, touched by his willingness to broach such a difficult topic.

The thought of seeking help feels foreign - like an admission of weakness, a testament to the brokenness that lurks within me.

“I...I’m just trying to push through,” I reply hesitantly, the words feeling hollow even as they pass my lips. It’s a feeble attempt to brush off his concern to avoid confronting the uncomfortable truth between us.

Before our conversation can delve any deeper, the dorm room door swings open with a sudden jolt, interrupting our exchange. A girl stands in the doorway, her arms laden with belongings, her expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment as she nearly stumbles into the room.

Caught off guard by the unexpected intrusion, I exchange a brief, apologetic glance with Dalton before turning my attention to the newcomer, offering a hesitant welcome smile.

The girl introduces herself as Chris Winslow. Dalton and I exchange a bemused glance, sharing the mutual confusion over the unexpected twist in his roommate assignment.

“I’m gonna go down to the housing office and get this all sorted out,” I announce, already turning towards the door to address the unforeseen situation.

However, before I can move, Chris speaks up. Her voice is calm and assured as she assures us that she’ll take care of the situation.

Caught off guard by her confidence and initiative, I hesitate momentarily, unsure whether to insist on handling the matter myself or trust in her assurances. But as I meet Dalton’s gaze, a silent understanding passes between us, and I nod in acquiescence, deferring to Chris’s offer to resolve the unexpected hiccup.

As Chris departs, leaving Dalton and me to process the unexpected turn of events, a chuckle escapes my lips. The absurdity of the situation is not lost on me. But as laughter subsides, my thoughts drift to the flyer I had stashed in my pocket earlier.

“Hey, uh,” I begin, rummaging through my pocket until I retrieve the crumpled flyer. “I snagged this for you.”

I extend the flyer towards Dalton, a hopeful glint in my eyes as I encourage him to consider exploring the opportunities presented by the frat party. “You should check it out. If you hate it, no worries,” I add, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “But you’re not gonna hate it.”

However, instead of the excitement I anticipated, Dalton’s expression shifts to one of disappointment, evident as he meets my gaze.

“You really don’t know me, do you?” he retorts, his tone tinged with frustration. “I mean, do you really think I want to join a frat?”

His words strike a nerve, and my smile falters as a wave of frustration washes over me. “It’s just a party, Dalton,” I reply, my tone more defensive than intended. “Go. Have fun. I mean, do it for me - I drove you here.”

But even as the words leave my lips, I can’t shake the sinking feeling that I’ve missed the mark, that my attempts to connect with Dalton have fallen short once again. As I watch him grapple with his frustrations, a pang of regret washes over me, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers that still stand between us.

The accusation cuts through the air like a knife, leaving me momentarily stunned. “You didn’t even want to,” Dalton asserts, his frustration boiling over.

“Of course I did,” I retort, my voice tinged with defensiveness. It’s true that my ex-wife had urged me to drive him to college, but deep down, I had genuinely wanted to spend time with him to bridge the growing divide between us.

“Stop lying to me!” Dalton’s voice rises, his words laced with anger. “I heard what Mom said at the funeral.”

His accusation lands like a punch to the gut, leaving me reeling. 

The exchange of harsh words hangs heavy in the air between us, a testament to the simmering resentment and unspoken pain that has plagued beneath the surface for far too long. My anger flares at Dalton’s biting retort, his words cutting deep into the already fragile bond that binds us.

“Well, I still did it!” I shoot back, my own frustration bubbling to the surface.

His response, laced with sarcasm and bitterness, only fuels my anger. “Oh, so that makes you father of the year now?” he retorts, his tone dripping with disdain.

A pang of hurt pierces my heart at his words, the weight of his accusation heavy upon me. “Well, at least you got a father,” I snap back, my own voice tinged with bitterness.

But Dalton’s following words strike like a dagger to the heart, his anger seething beneath the surface as he lashes out with cold, calculated precision. “Stop blaming your dad for shit you screwed up,” he hisses, his finger pointed accusingly in my direction. “He left like 40 years ago. Get over it. God knows I’m not gonna be defined by you.”

The venom in his words cuts deep, leaving me reeling with a mixture of anger, sadness, and regret. As my temper flares, I unleash a torrent of hurtful words, the weight of my pain driving me to lash out in desperation.

“Are you kidding me? After all we’ve done for you?” I spit out, my voice trembling with emotion. “When did you become this ungrateful little shit?”

The moment the words leave my lips, I regret them, the sting of remorse washing over me like a tidal wave. But it’s too late; the damage is already done as Dalton’s gaze hardens with hurt and betrayal.

“No wonder Mom divorced you,” he throws back at me, his voice cold and unforgiving as he tosses the party flyer aside. “Thanks for the ride.”

With a heavy sigh, I watch Dalton turn away, his dismissal a painful reminder of the chasm separating us. As he retreats into the solitude of his anger, I find myself standing alone in the aftermath of our bitter exchange, grappling with the weight of my failures as a father. With a heavy heart, I turn and leave, the silence of the empty room echoing the emptiness in my soul.

As I hastily make my way down the corridor, the weight of my emotions threatens to overwhelm me. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. Desperation drives me forward, my steps quickening as I yearn to escape to the safety of my car.

Suddenly, a collision jolts me from my thoughts. I stumble backwards, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch the figure crumple to the floor with a loud thud. 

I look down to see it’s her - the beautiful young woman from earlier, her striking eyes filled with surprise and confusion.

For a moment, I’m frozen in place, torn between the instinct to help her and the overwhelming urge to flee. But as the weight of my emotions threatens to overwhelm me, I find myself unable to do anything but mumble a hasty apology before turning away.

With each hurried step, I feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. The corridor stretches endlessly before me, a cruel reminder of the distance I must traverse to reach the sanctuary of my car. As I finally break into a run, the echoes of my own footsteps reverberating against the walls, I can only hope to contain the storm raging within me until I’ve reached the safety of solitude.

_____

As I continue to grapple with the aftermath of our heated argument, the weight of guilt and regret hangs heavy upon my shoulders. Each voicemail message left for Dalton feels like a futile attempt to bridge the chasm between us, a desperate plea for forgiveness and reconciliation.

But today is different. Today, I’ve taken action to show Dalton that I’m committed to making amends and proving that I can be better. 

I’ve scheduled an MRI appointment with a brain specialist, hoping to shed light on the fog that has clouded my mind for far too long. 

I’ve already informed Dalton of this on one of the countless voicemails, but I feel compelled to tell him in person, to see the flicker of hope in his eyes, as I promise to make things right or at least wholeheartedly try. And so, with a mixture of trepidation and hope, I find myself driving to his college, the anticipation building with each passing mile.

Yet, as I approach the college campus, a part of my mind wanders to the chance encounter with the beautiful young woman from earlier. 

Despite my desperate need to seek forgiveness from Dalton, a small voice whispers in the back of my mind, urging me to seek her out and offer a belated apology for my clumsy actions.

With a conflicted heart, I push aside the distraction and focus on the task at hand. Today is about Dalton, about salvaging what’s left of our fractured relationship and rebuilding the trust that my shortcomings have shattered. 

As Dalton opens the door with a look of confusion, I offer him a tentative smile, my heart pounding in my chest with anticipation. “Hey,” I begin, my voice tinged with nervousness. “Sorry for the surprise visit. I was in the area and thought I’d drop by and talk to Dalton.”

I glance around the room, taking note of Dalton’s company - a mix of relief and apprehension swirling within me as I spot Chris, his temporary roommate, and her.

With a quick clearing of my throat, I introduce myself, a faint blush colouring my cheeks as our eyes meet. “I’m Josh, by the way.” 

Lost in a trance of admiration, I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from her. Drawn to her like a moth to a flame, I absorb every detail as if I’ve been starved for her presence. 

My eyes wander over her captivating face, drawn to her sparkling eyes, flawless skin, and perfectly formed features  -  her nose and lips, all wonderfully sculpted. The way her clothing hugs her curves seems almost tailored for her, accentuating her figure in all the right places.

As my mind wanders, consumed by the intoxicating fantasy of her, I can’t help but entertain forbidden thoughts. What would she taste like? Would she arch her back in pleasure if I were to kiss her neck? The mere notion sent a surge of heat coursing through my veins, igniting a fire within me that I struggled to contain.

A pang of self-awareness cuts through my reverie as I realise how fixated I’ve become, my thoughts echoing with a tinge of self-consciousness.

God, I sound like a teenager, I chide myself internally, desperately hoping that no one else has noticed the intensity of my gaze. The last thing I want is for her or anyone else in the room to realise that I’ve been unabashedly ogling her.

My reverie is abruptly shattered by Chris, who stands beside her, purposefully clearing her throat. Startled out of my trance, I blink rapidly, my mind snapping back to reality with a jolt.

Feeling a surge of nervousness coursing through me, I wet my lips, which suddenly feel dry as desert sand. “Well, I should get going,” I mumble, my voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

As if drawn by an invisible force, my gaze flickers back to her once more, unable to resist stealing one last glance before I leave. “It was nice to meet you,” I add, the words coming out in a soft murmur laced with genuine sincerity and lingering apprehension.

With a quick nod and a hesitant smile, I turn to leave, the weight of uncertainty hanging heavy in the air around me. 

As I step out the door and close it behind me, a wave of self-doubt washes over me, leaving me feeling utterly foolish. It dawns on me that the beautiful young woman I had been so captivated by is not only a student but also, therefore, even younger than I had initially assumed. 

The realisation only serves to compound my embarrassment as I grapple with the absurdity of my infatuation.

But even more troubling is the fact that she is Dalton’s friend - my own son’s friend. 

Everything dictates that she is off-limits, yet a part of me hesitates to acknowledge that truth. The undeniable pull I feel towards her, the electric spark of connection that seemed to flicker between us, refuses to be dismissed so easily.

With a heavy sigh, I berate myself for entertaining such foolish thoughts, for allowing myself to be swept away by a fantasy that can never be. I remind myself of the boundaries that must be respected, the lines that cannot be crossed. And yet, even as I chastise myself, a small voice within me whispers of the undeniable allure of the forbidden, tempting me to entertain the possibility of something more.

_____

The next time I encounter her, I exit from Dalton’s dormitory, stepping out into the openness of the day. The day’s warmth embraces me as I inhale deeply, savouring the sensation of freedom after being confined indoors.

Her soft voice cuts through the air, calling out my name with a touch of warmth that fills me with a sense of unexpected delight, “Hey Josh!”

Turning towards her, I’m greeted by her radiant smile, reflecting the genuine joy she feels at our chance encounter.

Without hesitation, I mirror her bright expression, instinctively returning her smile with equal enthusiasm. “Hey,” I respond warmly, the words flowing effortlessly from my lips. It’s nice to see you again.”

As my gaze sweeps over her form, I’m struck once again by her beauty, her figure accentuated by the snug fit of her clothing. From the gentle curve of her shoulders to the graceful line of her waist, every detail seems to beckon me, drawing me in with an irresistible magnetism.

Despite my efforts to maintain composure, my eyes linger for a moment longer than necessary on the neckline of her tight shirt, drawn irresistibly to the allure of her form.

“I’m sorry for running you over when we first met,” I begin, my voice tinged with genuine remorse as I scratch nervously at the hair on the back of my head. “Or at least for just walking away and not helping you up again.” The words spill out of me in a rush, fueled by the sincere desire to make amends for my past actions.

In response, she reaches out and places her hand on my forearm, the contact sending a subtle jolt of electricity racing through me. For a moment, I’m rendered speechless, my senses overwhelmed by the warmth of her touch and the intensity of our connection.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, I reach out and cover her hand with my own, marvelling at the stark contrast between the size of my hand and the delicate fragility of hers. Her touch feels like a lifeline, anchoring me in the present moment as I struggle to navigate the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

As if guided by some unseen force, I intertwine our fingers.

With each gentle stroke of my thumb against the back of her hand, I feel the tension between us easing, replaced by a quiet sense of comfort and belonging.

In that suspended moment, it feels as though time itself has halted, leaving us both entangled in a mesmerising trance. We stand there, locked in a silent exchange, our gazes intertwined in a dance of unspoken understanding and longing.

Driven by an instinct I can’t quite comprehend, I move closer to her, drawn in by the magnetic pull of her presence. As I do, her intoxicating scent envelops me like a comforting embrace, filling my senses with a heady mix of freshness and floral sweetness.

 I’m captivated by the sight of her, illuminated by the golden glow of the sunlight, her eyes sparkling with an inner light, and her skin luminous with a soft, radiant beauty.

But the spell is abruptly shattered when someone bumps into me, inadvertently jolting me back to reality with a sudden start - my mind finally catching up to what I’ve been doing and what we’ve been doing. 

With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly allow my hand to fall away from hers, stepping back from her as if to create a physical distance between us.

“I - ” I begin, my voice faltering slightly as I clear my throat. The remnants of our charged moment still linger in the air between us. “I should get going.”

With a sense of regret tugging at my heart, I tear my gaze away from her, unable to linger any longer. As I turn to leave, a part of me lingers in that moment, reluctant to let go of the fleeting connection we’ve shared. But I know that it’s the right thing to do. 

_____

The weight of the unresolved tension between Dalton’s friend and me casts a shadow over my thoughts, a constant presence that I cannot shake. 

Despite my best efforts to forget her, I find myself making frequent stops at the college, each visit accompanied by a faint glimmer of hope that I might catch a glimpse of her once more.

It’s a charade, really - a facade of repairing my strained relationship with my son, Dalton, that I maintain for the benefit of those around me. Even my ex-wife, Dalton’s mother, seems impressed by my newfound dedication to bridging the gap between us. 

But deep down, I know the real reason for my frequent visits - I long to see her again. 

Yet, each time I stop by Dalton’s dorm room or pick him up for an outing, she’s conspicuously absent.

Part of me wonders if she’s deliberately avoiding me, perhaps sensing the undeniable attraction that simmers beneath the surface. And yet, despite the rationality of her actions, I can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at her absence.

In my desperation to see her again, to confront the feelings that have been gnawing at me from within, I find myself entertaining reckless thoughts. 

Maybe, I think, she’s the reasonable one of the two of us, choosing to distance herself for the sake of decency. 

After all, our connection is fraught with complications, from the difference in our ages to the delicate balance of friendships and familial relationships. But another part - the part that’s consumed by longing and desire - yearns for the chance to reconnect, to even broach the subject of what has been weighing on my mind.

But I can’t deny the pull I feel towards her, the undeniable attraction that lingers between us.

So, I find myself grappling with conflicting emotions as I contemplate the possibility of reaching out to her if only to ease the ache in my heart and find some semblance of closure.

And that’s why I’m currently in Dalton’s room, the minutes ticking by in agonising slowness.

And then, as if on cue, the door swings open, but it isn’t Dalton who greets me - it’s her.

My heart skips a beat as I drink in the sight of her, the details of her appearance etched into my mind like a cherished memory. From the way, the sunlight catches the subtle highlights in her hair to the soft curve of her lips.

“I didn’t expect you here,” she says, her voice tinged with surprise and something else - something that I can’t quite decipher. 

For a moment, neither of us speaks, the air heavy with anticipation and unspoken words. And then, with a newfound sense of resolve, I find my voice.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the words escape my lips before I can stop them, the accusation hanging in the air between us. I watch her closely, searching for any hint of a response in the depths of her gaze.

Silence stretches between us; the only sound is the steady rhythm of our breaths, which is audible. And then, without a word, she steps closer to me, her movement like a silent invitation that I can’t ignore.

With a sense of determination coursing through me, I close the remaining distance between us, the space between our bodies narrowing until barely a breath separates us. I reach out, my hand coming to rest on the door beside her head, the warmth of her presence seeping into my skin.

With a swift, fluid motion, I push the door closed, the sound of it clicking shut echoing loudly in the room. 

Her gaze holds mine captive, her eyes like beacons drawing me in, and I cannot look away. It’s as if she’s cast a spell over me, trapping me in her irresistible allure and leaving me powerless to resist.

Time seems to stand still in our embrace, enveloping us in a cocoon of blissful silence. The world outside fades into insignificance as I lose myself in her presence, my senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating allure of her nearness. I can feel the weight of her gaze upon me, her breath growing heavier with each passing moment, mirroring the surge of desire that courses through my veins.

She’s enchanting beyond words, and every fibre of my being yearns to surrender to the allure of her touch. But even as I revel in the euphoria of the moment, a voice of reason whispers in the depths of my mind, reminding me of the consequences of indulging in this forbidden attraction.

“Tell me to stop... tell me to walk away,” I murmur, my words barely more than a breathless plea. I need her to reject me, to push me away and spare us both from the inevitable heartache that awaits if we give in to temptation.

But her response shatters my resolve. Her voice is soft and full of longing as she whispers, “Kiss me.” It’s a command I can’t resist, a siren’s call that beckons me closer, drawing me into her irresistible embrace.

Without hesitation, I lean in, my lips meeting hers in a fervent kiss that ignites a firestorm of desire between us. It’s urgent and consuming, as if we’ve both been waiting for this moment. My hand rises to cup her cheek, savouring the warmth of her skin beneath my touch.

For a fleeting instant, I hope she’ll pull away, that she’ll realise the folly of our actions and put an end to this madness. But instead, she draws me closer, her hands finding purchase on my shoulders as she presses her body against mine.

I break the kiss reluctantly, my body buzzing with desire as I meet her gaze with a mixture of longing and disbelief. 

“Fuck,” I whisper hoarsely, my voice laced with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

The smile that graces her lips sends a surge of warmth coursing through me - it’s enough to make me taste and kiss her and never let her go. 

So I do just that, and with each open-mouthed kiss I press to her jawline, I can feel the tension building between us, a palpable electric charge that crackles in the air.

“Well, I have an idea,” her voice is breathy, her words barely more than a whisper, but they send shivers down my spine. It’s clear that she’s just as affected by this intoxicating connection as I am.

My hands instinctively find their way into her soft hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands as I pull her closer. “Yeah, tell me,” I murmur, my voice husky with desire.

Capturing her bottom lip between my teeth, I bite down softly, eliciting a breathy gasp of my name from her lips. Encouraged by her response, I trail kisses along her jawline, savouring the taste of her skin against my lips.

Her soft whimpers and heavy breathing only fuel my desire, urging me onward as I continue to explore her neck with fervent kisses. When I suck a mark into the tender flesh of her neck, her moan sends a jolt of arousal coursing through me as I feel my cock hardening.

As her fingers dig into my shoulders, I groan softly, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

With a sense of urgency, she lets her hands roam over my back, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. And when she lifts the hem of my shirt, slipping her hands beneath the fabric, I can’t suppress the loud groan that escapes my lips.

Desperate to show her what she does to me, I press my hips against her, making her feel my hard dick.

But as she begins to grind against me, igniting a primal need that demands to be satisfied, I force myself to pull back. The momentary respite allows me to regain some semblance of control, my gaze flickering down to the delicate straps of her dress.

I swallow heavily, my mind racing with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and desires. On one hand, I know that crossing this line could have serious repercussions, threatening to shatter the fragile balance of our lives. But on the other hand, the intoxicating allure of her touch is impossible to resist.

When she pushes against me once more, her movements driving me to the brink of madness, I find myself unable to resist any longer. With trembling fingers, I slip beneath the straps of her dress, a silent acknowledgement of the choice we’re both making now.

As the fabric falls away, exposing the soft curves of her skin to my hungry gaze, I know there’s no turning back. 

I feel my cock getting even harder when I see her perky, bare tits. A quiet groan escapes my lips as I look at them - perfect, round, and inviting to touch.

As I reach out, my fingers trembling with anticipation, I gently run the pad of my thumb over her nipple, watching as it hardens under my touch.

Deliberately, almost teasingly, I trace patterns across her chest, my touch growing bolder with each passing moment. I revel in the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips and the way she responds to my caress with soft gasps and sighs of pleasure.

As I flick my fingers against her hardened nipples, her breathy moans drive me wild with desire. With each tug and roll of her tit, I can feel the tension building between us.

My exploration of her chest continues, my lips trailing a path of kisses along her collarbones. I nibble and suckle on the tender flesh, leaving a trail of marks in my wake. Some primal part of me yearns to mark her as my own, to leave a tangible reminder of our shared passion.

Through the haze of desire that clouds my mind, I can sense her frantic need for me, her hands clutching at my belt loops as she pulls me closer. The sensation of her grinding against my cock sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through my veins, making me groan in response.

I pull back slightly, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I try to regain some semblance of control.

Despite the offence evident in her expression, I can’t help but feel a rush of amusement bubbling up inside me. With a smirk playing at the corners of my lips, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close once more as I press my lips against hers in a hungry kiss.

With a soft groan, I press my thigh between her legs, feeling the heat of her clothed cunt against my leg. The friction elicits a moan from her lips, confirming that she enjoys the sensation as much as I do.

Her hands are frantic as she breaks the kiss to undo my belt and jeans, her fingers fumbling in her haste. I watch with anticipation as my jeans fall to the floor with a soft thud, my hard cock straining against the fabric of my underwear in anticipation of her touch.

Even as my arousal pulses through me, I can’t help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness as she eyes me with hunger. I know I’m not as young as I used to be, my body bearing the marks of age and experience. But all doubts vanish as her fingertips trail over my chest and stomach, with nothing but appreciation and desire in her gaze.

I find myself struggling to contain the rising tide of desire that threatens to overwhelm me, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I allow her to explore my body at her own pace. 

But when her hand cups my hard cock through my underwear, all semblance of restraint vanishes in an instant. 

With a deep, guttural groan, I can no longer hold back, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her as I crush my lips against hers.

Biting down on her lip again, I relish the way she whimpers into my mouth, her body responding eagerly to my touch. I feel a surge of desire as I run my fingers over the soft flesh of her ass, prompting her to wrap her legs around my middle in a desperate embrace.

My mind is clouded with desire as I scan the room for a suitable surface, my gaze landing on the desk in the centre of the room.

In one fluid motion, I set her down on it, sweeping aside books and other belongings to make room.

I’m intoxicated by her presence, too lost in the haze of desire to care about anything else. Slotting myself between her legs, I tangle my hand in her hair, pulling her head back to meet my gaze. The way her breath quickens and her eyes darken with desire tells me she’s just as eager as I am.

But even amid our heated passion, a small voice of reason whispers in the back of my mind. With a ragged breath, I remind her of the importance of consent, my words heavy with sincerity.

“If you want to stop - at any point - you tell me,” I say, my voice filled with urgency and concern, a silent plea for her to acknowledge the gravity of our actions.

Her silent nod is all the confirmation I need as I gaze into her eyes, mesmerised by the raw desire burning within them. Her eyes are blown wide and on me, her lips pink and swollen, and I think I have never seen anything more beautiful. And I just know that I will never be able to stop craving her. 

I press a quick, fervent kiss to her lips, my hands deftly hitching her dress up higher, revealing more of her enticing curves.

My fingers find their way between her legs, tracing over the fabric of her panties. The heat and wetness that greets me nearly drives me over the edge, a primal growl rumbling in the depths of my throat.

As I drag my finger through her slit, teasing her clit. Her response is immediate and intense, her back arching into my touch as she lets out a breathless moan of pleasure. Encouraged by her reaction, I repeat the motion, feeling her nails scrape against my back in a deliciously sharp sensation.

The thought of bearing the marks of her touch for days to come only adds to the intensity of the moment, fueling my desire to be inside her. With a low, guttural moan, I press closer to her, my cock throbbing with need as I long to be enveloped by her warmth.

But I know that I have to make this good for her and prepare her before I take her. So I seat myself between her thighs, yanking her ass over the edge of the desk as I pull down her panties. 

Wrapping my hands around her thighs, I hold her open, exposing her pink, glistening pussy to my hungry gaze. The sight alone makes my mouth water in anticipation of tasting her sweetness.

She looks absolutely irresistible, and the sight of her arousal sends a shiver down my spine. Unable to resist any longer, I lean in and press a kiss to her clit, relishing in the taste of her as I swirl my tongue around it.

A low groan escapes me as I feel her shudder beneath me in response to my touch and cry out.

Pulling back slightly, I meet her gaze with a sense of urgency, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I speak. “You need to be quiet, sweetheart,” I murmur, my voice laced with a hint of warning. “Wouldn’t want anyone to come in here, right?”

She nods in response, her eyes wide with desire and her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Though I can see the struggle in her eyes, I know she’ll do her best to remain silent. As much as I want to hear her, we can’t afford to be caught in such a compromising position.

I lean down again, my palm pressing firmly against her stomach to hold her down as I lick a wide stripe over her cunt, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from her lips.

With each lick and suck, I explore her pussy, eager to discover what drives her wild and sends her over the edge. Her reactions are nothing short of intoxicating - the way her back arches off the desk and her hips buck against my mouth, seeking more of the pleasure I’m giving her.

The wood beneath her is already stained dark from her arousal. 

I revel in the feeling of her tightness around my fingers as I push them deeper inside her, curling them just right to send her spiralling towards ecstasy.

When she clenches around my tongue and bucks her hips, I know she’s on the brink of orgasm. With a sense of urgency, I pull her even closer, attaching my mouth to her clit and sucking hard while thrusting my fingers into her wet heat. 

The sensation of her spasming around my fingers only serves to heighten my arousal, my cock throbbing in response.

Before long, she’s cumming hard, her screams of pleasure filling the room as her body tenses and spasms in release. I continue to drink her greedily, relishing in the taste of her as she rides out her orgasm.

Only when she whimpers, clearly overstimulated, do I finally pull back, a satisfied smile on my lips as I take in her flushed appearance. She lays there, spread out and open, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, her eyes glazed with pleasure.

With her fingers digging into my shoulders, I rise to my feet, my knees protesting as I pull her close and capture her lips in a hungry kiss.

I press my hard, clothed cock against her cunt, relishing the sensation of her grinding down on it. A deep groan escapes me as I feel her heat against me.

As our lips meet, her hand slips into my briefs, wrapping around my aching dick. I can’t help but buck my hips involuntarily at her touch, the warmth of her hand sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

With a sense of relief, she pushes down my underwear, freeing my throbbing cock. I watch as her hungry gaze fixates on it, her hand reaching out once more, enveloping me in warmth and pressure.

Another groan escapes me as she pumps my shaft once, the sensation driving me wild with desire. I ache to take her then and there, to lose myself in the heat of her body.

But when I see her intentions to slip down the desk, I place a firm hand on her thigh, gripping it tightly. My voice, husky with desire, cuts through the haze of lust as I speak, “You can return the favour next time. We have to be quick.”

I hope there will be a next time, and by how she looks at me, I can tell she feels the same.

I wrap my arms around her again, stealing another passionate kiss before lifting her off the desk. I refuse to fuck her on such a shoddy surface - she deserves the comfort of a bed. With purposeful strides, I walk us both over to the bed in the room, gently laying her down on her back.

With a hunger in my eyes, I lower myself on top of her, bracing my weight on my elbows as I hover over her. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, trailing hot kisses along her pulse point, savouring the intoxicating taste of her skin.

Feeling her soft body pressed against mine, I revel in the sensation as she pulls me even closer to her.

Her voice, wrecked and hoarse with need, sends shivers down my spine as she pleads, “Fuck me, please.”

With a low growl of approval, I press my lips to hers once more.

I grip my throbbing shaft firmly, guiding it against her slick folds. With deliberate care, I tease her entrance, tracing the outline of her slit and nudging her sensitive clit, eliciting a whimper from her – I need to ensure she’s ready for what’s to come.

Slowly and deliberately, I push just the tip of my cock inside her, feeling her tightness enveloping me. I pause, allowing her to adjust to the sensation, relishing in the heat and tightness of her depths.

Her impatience is evident as she whispers, “Josh, please.”

With a deep breath, I begin to inch my cock further into her with short, shallow thrusts. I keep my eyes locked on hers, gauging her reaction and ensuring her comfort with each movement. My own breathing becomes ragged as I feel her clenching and bucking against me, her arousal evident in every movement.

When her eyes flutter closed in ecstasy, I stop and wrap my hand around her throat, wanting her to look at me as I take her. With one final, deliberate thrust, I bury myself deep inside her, relishing in the sensation of her tightness around me.

“Just like that,” I whisper, “You’re doing so well”, feeling her clenching around me in response. At this moment, I know she’s ready – and I won’t be holding back.

She whimpers when I pull back, leaving only the tip of my cock inside her, craving more of the fullness I provide. Then, with a primal need, I slam my entire length back into her, eliciting a loud moan from her lips. Each thrust feels like I’m carving a pathway into her pussy, her slick walls parting before the force of my cock.

Her moans grow louder as I fuck her relentlessly, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room. The noises spur me on, driving me to fuck her harder and deeper. I can feel my balls slapping against her with every rough and hard thrust, the sensation driving me wild.

Feeling myself getting closer to the edge, I reach down and begin to rub my thumb over her clit, eliciting an immediate and intense reaction from her. She loses herself even further beneath me, her movements becoming more frantic as she clutches at the sheets as she clenches, bucks and whimpers.

With one particularly rough thrust, she shatters around me, her screams filling the room. I register her loudness, so I crush my mouth against hers in a rough kiss, muffling the sound as I continue to pound into her.

As my climax approaches, I push myself as deep as possible inside her before I tip over the edge, ensuring every last drop of my cum will be inside her. With a loud groan, I release inside her pussy, filling her up.

I kiss her passionately as I use her cunt to milk myself dry, ensuring that every last drop of my cum fills her completely.

I push the damp hair from her face as we both catch our breath. With a lazy tenderness, I press my lips against hers, savouring the softness of her touch as her hands weave through my hair, eliciting a contented sigh from deep within me.

As we lie there, I feel my cock softening inside her cunt, and I’m completely content in this moment of intimacy with her. 

But our blissful reverie is abruptly interrupted by her urgent voice piercing the air. “Shit, Josh. Get up,” she exclaims, her words tinged with a hint of panic.

Panic floods through me at her words, my first thought being that she regrets what just happened. However, when I notice her gaze fixed on her cunt, that’s gaping a bit and leaking my cum onto the bed, I realise the true reason for her urgency - We’ve just had sex in my son’s dorm room, and we’ve completely ruined the bed.

A soft chuckle escapes my lips, the tension evaporating as I lean in to kiss her again. It’s a silent reassurance that we’ll navigate this situation together. 

“It will be fine,” I whisper against her lips, my voice laced with reassurance.

Her bright eyes meet mine, wide and filled with warmth, as I gently trace her lips with my thumb. “Let’s get cleaned up first. And then I’d like to take you out for some food,” I suggest, eager to prolong our time together beyond the confines of this moment.

“Yeah… yeah, I’d like that,” her voice is soft, barely audible in the room, yet her beautiful face radiates a smile that fills me with warmth. In that fleeting moment, I realise that this is not merely a one-time occurrence. It’s a beginning, a promise of something more profound and meaningful. And as I gaze upon her, basking in the glow of her happiness, I silently vow to do whatever it takes to keep that smile on her face.

[inquisimer]

2024 writing round up

bringing back this year-end writing review because I'm a stats nerd and it's always fun to be surprised by how much the time and effort and works add up over time! tagging forward (to some new people - you're always free to ignore or let me know if you don't want to be tagged in things <3) if you'd like to join in: @soupandsorcery | @brightaxe | @glitteringdust | @crabs-with-sticks | @dustdeepsea | and an open invitation to anyone who sees this and would like to do it - tag me so we can celebrate all we've done this year!

words posted: 160,320

additional words written: 46,038

grand total of words: 206,358

fandoms: dragon age. and dragon age. oh, and also dragon age 😂

highest kudos: to feel the sun from both sides at 166 - a missing "what are we even doing right now" scene from the Rook x Lucanis romance <3

highest hit oneshot: I pick my poison (and it's you) at 1515 - yeah, no surprises here, it's the porn 😂 Arlow and Lucanis fuck on the rooftops in Treviso and I pretend there's a plot by drawing a line between the purple lanterns and Spite's wings.

new things I tried: writing (and finishing) a smut piece! that's been on my want-to-do list for a while, so that feels good to accomplish. I also wrote and posted my first polyship works this year!

fic I spent the most time on: the very condition of existence, my fic for @thedragonagebigbang! Female Mahariel/Anora, a childhood friends to strangers to lovers AU where Mahariel & Anora meet as children in the forest outside Gwaren and are reunited years later during the Landsmeet.

fic I spent the least time on: this one is always hard for me to gauge, but probably either softness did not serve me or spit your blood and bare your teeth, two of the pieces I wrote about Nika Brosca's history with the Carta for Febuwhump (mind the tags)

favorite thing I wrote: of my completed works, knee deep without a plea - Lucanis' POV of the weeks Rook spends in the Fade prison! I am really proud of the details I worked into this one for Lucanis and Spite, and the emotions across all of the characters. Honorable mention to before you can kill the monster (you have to say its name) - my WIP rewrite of the end of Davrin's personal arc, incorporating more of the nuance from Isseya's character in Last Flight, and filling in the gaps between the end of the novel and where Veilguard picks up. I'm really proud of the first chapters, and of where my outline is going, but I don't think I can put it at the top of my favorites until it's fully realized

favorite thing(s) I read:

there is no god but they'll kill you for him by tenderest (@/tendertieflings) - f!Lavellan & Dorian, Solavellan, heart-wrenching and angsty "Dorian & Lavellan deal with everything that happened with Solavellan and the world post-Trespasser.

floriography by ritualist - Harding/Josephine, tooth-rotting fluff and humor that contrasts Harding's earnest nature with Josephine's poise, bringing them together in a very sweet way.

contact poison by hellsreluctantheir (@/nonagesimus) - Teia/Viago, yes it's smut but it is also an amazing exploration of their dynamic, and really digs into some of the issues laid out for Viago in Tevinter Nights.

Razorwing by unoshot - f!Rook/Lucanis, a character study of their relationship throughout Veilguard that really pops off with the emotion and the imagery.

hound dogs howlin' round the gate by mortonsspoon (@shivunin) - f!Tabris & f!Tabris, I'm admittedly biased af bc this was an OC gift for me BUT objectively it is such a heartfelt piece about Tabris cousins that will get you all up in your city elf feels 😭💜

writing goals for 2025: finish & publish the rest of before you can kill the monster (you have to say its name)! And if I'm really ambitious, finish my Mahariel cure-for-the-Calling fic, which was the first DA fic I ever conceptualized, but has languished as I work and rework her canon. But it's outlined and I would love to write and finish it!

new works: 65 (!!!)

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words posted:

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grand total of words:

fandoms:

highest kudos:

highest hit oneshot:

new things I tried:

fic I spent the most time on:

fic I spent the least time on:

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favorite thing(s) I read:

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[ohallthecrushes]

YOU’RE A STORM IN A TEACUP AND I’M STARTING TO LIKE THE CHAOS.

I can't, I can't... But i will 🥵 It's been a while since i've written a smut, so let me know what you think or what can i improve, cause damn... I've had so much fun writing for Elias and I want to write more smuuuuut, but I feel self-conscious about it. („• ֊ •„)

Without further ado!

Summary: Evelyn is a young-troubled woman who’s just escaped a highly guarded psych ward (twice, but this time causing havoc on her way out)

Now she’s running through the city, hiding from police. A not-so-accidental encounter with a man named Elias Voit will change her life forever. And she’ll change his. His seemingly selfless help is laced with danger, hidden agenda, manipulation, endless tension, and…love? Slow burning inteligent-idiots-in-love trope. But mind you, just because it’s a love story, doesn’t mean it ends well.

General warnings throughout the story: Manipulation, illegal activities, murder(s), Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, explicit content, language… The whole pack. It’s Criminal minds after all.

In this episode: Elias craves Evelyn with every fabric of his being. He isn't a gentle man, and this won't be a gentle sex. He intends to overwhelm her, to take her apart, to claim her, to break down any defiance that's left in her. He wants her surrender to be complete. And if that'll happen to be too much for her?

Oh well, he thought, she'd seen that coming.

Back at the cabin, the air between Evelyn and Elias was thick with unspoken words and unclear tension. As she moved towards her room, hoping for a moment alone to process everything, he stopped her with a firm hand on her arm. His expression was serious, his eyes focused and unwavering.

"We need to talk." he simply said, his voice calm but authoritative. "There are some rules you need to remember and follow. And this isn’t negotiable. The rules are there for a reason and they're not just a suggestion."

She felt a knot tighten in her stomach, knowing this conversation was inevitable. She nodded, biting her lower lip, waiting for him to continue. She prepared herself for being reprimanded.

"First." he began "you need to listen to me. Don't wander off without letting me know where you're going. Don’t engage with strangers unless absolutely necessary, and never reveal the location of this cabin. You can't tell anyone your real name. We are still dealing with a dangerous situation, and your disobedience could bring us serious trouble."

He paused, watching her closely to make sure she understood. "The last thing we want is to draw attention, especially from the authorities. Remember, you’re still a refugee. The police are still looking for you. If you make a mistake, it could mean being locked up in a psych ward again."

She swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. She nodded again, acknowledging the seriousness of the situation. Her mind drifted briefly to the past, being institutionalized again was one of her biggest fear. She knew he was right, even if his tone was harsh. But he was still much calmer than she'd expected. She'd thought he'd lash out at her, yell even, but apparently his anger lessened a little or maybe he was more self-controlled than it seemed.

Seeing her compliance, he dismissed her, watching her going back to her room.

Problem had been addressed, but he knew that there was another matter that needed his attention - the sexual tension between them... he couldn't leave it unresolved. It was causing issues, and he knew that they need to defuse it. But addressing it, talking about it wouldn't do it. He knew her well enough already to predict that she would likely deny it, ignore it or even refuse to acknowledge it. And ignoring it wouldn't make it go away. It would only complicate things further.

He could insist of course, tell her to make up her mind, to stop lying to him and herself. To stop contradict herself only because she couldn't control her own damn urges. After all they both knew that if he hadn't pulled back, she'd have let him fuck her.

But this approach wouldn't help him achieve what he wanted. He imagined her biting her lip, trying to find the words to respond, but nothing would come. The room for her would start to feel too small, the air too thick... She would retreat to her room again.

He needed to be smart. He needed to recreate their dance, but this time he'd be the one in control.

Later that day Evelyn noticed that the front door, usually locked solid, hung ajar. Disbelief crossed her face. Elias wouldn't be so careless, leaving the door unlocked. The door was open on purpose.

She walked towards them and peeked outside. The sound of rhythmic chopping drew her attention. It came from the back of the cabin. Curiosity got the better of her, and she followed the sound. The area at the back of the cabin was bathed in the golden light of the afternoon sun. And there, in the center, stood Elias.

He was shirtless, his toned back and his muscles glistening with sweat. He was holding an axe and swinging it with ease, each hit splitting a log with a loud crack.

The image of him was captivating. He was everything she wasn't – controlled, disciplined, a stark contrast to the impulsive chaos that lived within her. She couldn't help herself and drifted closer, mesmerized by the display of his strength. She wanted to watch, just for a moment...

The rhythmic chopping stopped suddenly. He turned, his gaze landing directly on her. He smirked as he caught the blush creeping up her cheeks. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know.

His plan to bait her was unfolding perfectly.

"Enjoying the view?" he teased arching his brows, his voice casual, almost indifferent.

She stiffened, forcing a nonchalant shrug. "Just… surprised to see you chopping wood and... shirtless." The last word came out as a mumble, only deepening her blush.

He raised an eyebrow. "Does it bother you?"

He took a deliberate step closer, she could fell the heat of his body radiating towards her even across the distance.

"Please, you're not that impressive." she retorted, but her tone lacked conviction.

He knew she was trying to maintain her composure, but her act was transparent. Amateur, he thought with amusement. She was terrible at playing indifferent. He'd seen seasoned criminals maintain a poker face under torture; her attempt was as transparent as a child's lie.

"Liar." he simply stated.

She opened her mouth ready to defend her lie. But as she was preparing herself to argue with him, he turned his attention back to the task at hand, lifting another log onto the chopping block.

"Anyway." He said gesturing at the logs, not looking at her. "I could use some help stacking these logs. Unless you'd rather head back inside, unimpressed by my strength."

The sudden casual dismissal, as if he didn't care at all, left her momentarily stunned.

She watched him for a moment as he chopped another log. The sudden shift in his behavior, his nonchalant demeanor, left her feel... ignored? She was upset, not only because this was a clear manipulation but also because of the unsettling realization that she might actually wanted his attention. That she might liked the idea of his mouth back on hers, on his body pressed against her. That she might liked him.

No, no, no...she had to deflect it.

He turned to her once again, waiting for her answer. "Sooo?"

Before she could stop herself, the words spilled out of her. "Don't think for a second that I don't know what you're doing. It won't work! I'm not attracted to you in a way you think, despite of what we did. I don't like you!" Her voice was shaky, betraying the truth behind her denial. "You're a criminal, and I'm not that crazy to get involved in some… some cheap, meaningless affair with you. You have no power over me. You're not even that good-looking." The last statement was an obvious lie, as much to herself as to him.

Her voice rose to a near shout, a desperate and probably pathetic attempt to silence the traitorous whisper of her own heart.

"Back at the mansion I... what happened, what I allowed to happen was because…" she stammered, her mind a chaotic mess as she struggled to find a solid reason and articulate her confusion. "Because it was… It doesn't matter why." She shook her head. "It won't happen again, it can't happen again, so don't even think that you can just…" Her voice trailed off, her hands gesturing wildly as if trying to physically describe his manipulation.

The outburst wasn't the powerful declaration she'd wanted to achieve, but at least, she thought with a shaky breath, she'd managed to expel some steam.

He stood there, axe in hand. It was funny to look at her passionate denial. It was good. Her outburst, though clumsy and filled with transparent lies, was far more entertaining than a simple retreat. He'd hoped for a strong reaction and she had delivered. He set the axe down, wiping the sweat from his brow, and took a step closer to her.

His voice was low, measured. "You keep telling yourself that, Evelyn. But we both know that I'm having this effect on you that makes your knees go weak and your pants get soaked and you can't ignore it, no matter how hard you try." He paused, letting his words sink in. "And denying what you need that would help you finally satisfy yourself? That won't make it go away. You're just lying to yourself."

He watched as her expression shifted from frustration to astonishment. His gaze lingering on the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

"As for power." he added, his tone softer but no less intense. "you underestimate the pull you have, Evelyn. You may not see it, but you've already disrupted the carefully orchestrated game I was playing." With that, he turned back to the woodpile, picking up the axe once more, leaving her to struggle with her emotions.

They both were quiet for a moment, before he broke the silence sensing her presence still behind him.

"I. Don't. Like. You." he repeated her words to himself but loudly enough for her to hear it too, mimicking her tone for emphasis, but clearly mocking her. He'd been trying to be serious about her outburst a moment ago, but her obvious lie and the way she'd delivered it, was too funny to let it slip.

He straitened up and put the axe down again, his hands on his hips as he turned to her. "You know, it's weird how desperately convincing you've tried to sound, because your body tells a different story, sunshine. Maybe you should trust your instincts more… or trust me. But that's the problem, isn't it? You're afraid of giving in, because you think you can't trust me." his tone soft but teasing. "But you know that you will give in eventually, just like in the mansion, just like after the wine session... Just like before, and it makes you angry."

She glared at him. "No. Whatever you think may happen between us, it won't." she said, but her voice sounded even less certain than before.

"Let's put that to the test, hmm?" he suggested, his tone deceptively casual. "A little trust exercise. What do you say, princess?"

She hesitated, her pride was warring with her logic. "Trust exercise? You want me to trust you?"

"I want to prove it to you that you can trust me, despite how difficult it seems to you. Because not trusting me isn't the real issue here. If you give me and yourself a chance and trust me for a moment, you'll see what I'm talking about."

She crossed her arms thinking about it. She didn't agree with him. He couldn't be trusted because of who he was and the problem laid exactly there. But if he thought that he could prove something else... that was the issue, right? A vicious circle of wanting to trust him but not being able to.

After a moment and a long sigh, she asked. "What do you have in mind?"

"Ever chopped wood before?"

She shook her head, confused. "No."

His lips curved into a smile. "Come over here." He said as he picked up the axe and handed it to her. She took it and weighted it in her hands, it was heavier than she'd thought. She wasn't sure if she could handle it even though it looked easy, but there was first time for everything, right? And hey, if she didn't like this exercise she could use the axe on him, she thought smirking.

"Don't even think about it. You'd accidentally hurt yourself before you hurt me." He warned her as if reading her mind.

She rolled her eyes. "So what this exercise is about?"

"I'll help you chop it, but you have to trust me in this." He said as he positioned himself behind her and wrapped his arms around her. His hands over hers on the axe handle, guiding her grip.

"Now, let me guide you..." He said softly.

Their bodies were pressed together in a way that was both intimate and unsettling. He basically enveloped her with his body, his scent and heat surrounded her senses and she held her breath for a moment to remain calm.

"Close your eyes." he murmured, his breath warm against her ear, his voice another thing that made her shiver.

Feeling his bare chest pressed against her back, the closeness was almost overwhelming. She hesitated for a moment, but with a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the axe.

For a moment, he reveled in the physical contact, the feel of her delicate form pressed against him and the scent of her hair shampoo filling his nose.

Pushing the thought aside, he focused on the task.

"Trust me." he murmured in a husky whisper. "You'll be fine."

He could feel her tension, the way her body trembled ever so slightly. He tightened his grip on the axe handle, guiding her hands upwards. Then, with a swift, controlled motion, he brought the axe sharply down.

The wood cracked splitting in half. He held the axe suspended for a moment before he released his hold on her, stepping back just a tiny bit.

Still holding the axe she opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden sunlight. Her gaze fell upon the perfectly split log.

"See, not so scary, was it?" he said. "Trusting me, letting go of control… it doesn't have to be something to fear. I know what I'm doing, Evelyn. I can guide us, if you let me."

Of course she understood what he was trying to say. That it was safe to trust him, that he could guide her to accomplish something together. That letting him being in control didn't have to end up badly for her… But would it really be like that?

She spun around, her back slammed into his chest as she met his gaze. His nearness was an intoxicating distraction, that made it difficult to think clearly.

"Clever allegory." she finally managed to say, her voice tight. "But it doesn't prove anything, I still refuse to believe that the real issue lies elsewhere. And that I'll ever give in to you."

He smirked aware of her body reaction and internal conflict. He was already considering another exercise, another opportunity to push her boundaries and confront her denial head-on.

"Let's see how strong your convictions are." he said. "You can put the axe down."

She did what he said propping the axe against the log. He took a few steps back, finally giving her some space.

"Close your eyes, and don't open them until I say. Let me take control." he continued searching for her gaze. "Unless, of course, you'd rather retreat back to the safety of your denial and empty lies?"

She glared at him, knowing he was baiting her, but also putting her in a position where she couldn't say no, cause her retreat would only prove him right.

"No, why would I retreat? I'm having fun." she forced a smile, clearly sarcastic.

"Excellent. Close your eyes." he instructed with a playful command. "And this time, keep them closed until I tell you otherwise. Trust is key, remember?"

Not knowing what he was up to, but not wanting to pull back on, she fluttered her eyes shut. She stood there, tense and uncertain, every nerve on edge. He didn't approach her immediately, letting the suspense build, deepening her uncertainty. He circled slowly around her, his footsteps rustling the leaves on the ground. Her head slightly tilted, following the sound. Finally, he stopped behind her, close enough for her to feel his scent. With a slow movement his fingers gently took her chin, tilting her head up, exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck. Her entire body went rigid, unsure of what was coming next. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

"This is your chance to prove it." he whispered with a dangerous undercurrent. "Prove that everything you said before was true. Prove that you're not attracted to me. That you'll never give in. All you have to do is… resist."

Before she could even open her mouth to protest, he leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. He lingered there for a moment, slightly licking the spot as his other hand wrapped around her waist. It was maddeningly gentle, he was teasing her with the possibility of more. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, every muscle in her body straining with the effort to resist the pull towards him. But when he captured her lips with his, all her resolve crumbled. She found herself responding against her better judgment.

It was a slow exploration, a testing of the waters. He wanted to see her reaction, to see if denial would triumph over the undeniable chemistry between them.

A strangled sound escaped her, half gasp, half choked protest. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to resist him, to hold onto her hatred and distrust.

The kiss deepened, and she turned to face him, her hands reaching up to rested on his shoulders. He tasted the lie on her lips, the denial she clung to so desperately. But with each passing moment, the resistance becoming weaker. A soft moan escaped her lips, a sound that aroused him.

This wasn't about trusting him, a harsh realization dawned on her. It was about trusting herself, the very part of her she'd spent so long suppressing. The real issue he'd been talking about. She struggled with trusting herself more than with trusting him.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes, usually calculating and cool, now filled with desire and hunger.

"So much for not being attracted."

He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, a silent demand to open them wider, but she closed her mouth not wanting to give him a full satisfaction of bending her will completely.

"Still a stubborn little brat, aren't we?" he smirked. It was fine, he liked to work with a little disobedience.

He leaned in again and kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue. His hand slipped down her back, pressing her body flush against his. He wanted her to feel the length of his desire, the arousal that he felt because of her. He intended to show her exactly how much he wanted her, and how futile her remaining resistance truly was.

When he finally pulled back, she was left breathless. She knew it was useless to deny him anymore. She failed this exercise, but did she really mind?

"Let's go inside."

It wasn't a question, it was a command, one she found herself powerless to resist. Her steps were unsteady, but her body followed him without hesitation, and as they crossed the threshold, she knew there was no turning back from this moment.

The cabin door slammed shut behind them. He didn't waste any time. His grip on her tightened, as he led her straight to her room. He pushed her slightly inside before his hands grabbed her shirt and pulled it up, taking it off. His lips met hers again, as he reached at her back to unclip her bra.

He wasn't interested in a slow, drawn-out foreplay. He didn't care about slow reveals, about building anticipation. He craved the feel of her bare skin against his, of himself being inside her. He'd waited long enough already.

He felt her body tensed slightly. Her hands on his chest, once pulling him closer, now pressed against him in a weak attempt to slow him down. He smirked with amusement. She was aware of the choices she was making, however fleeting that awareness might be. But her resistance was weak, easily broken by his touch.

"Scared?" he murmured in a husky voice, looking for a sign in her eyes that could indicate that she didn't want him to continue, but all he found was excitement, a firm resolution with a hint of nervousness and self-conscious.

She was a bit scared, but it wasn't that kind of scare that would make her want to flee. Quite the contrary.

"A little bit scared, but... it makes me pretty pumped." She replied honestly, but with a hint of shyness, knowing that he understood what she meant. "Just...slow down, would you?"

He tilted his head as if considering her request, before he looked down at her bare breast and her nipples harden with arousal. No, he didn't plan to slow down, he wouldn't let the fragile hesitation derail their momentum. He wrapped his arm possessively around her waist and kissed her again.

A tremor ran down her spine, she could feel her body reacted with an unexpected submission. It both terrified her and made her more aroused. The sound she made against his mouth, a soft, breathy moan, was pure lust that made him growl.

He pushed her on the bed and came on top of her, recreating the abruptly broken moment at the mansion. But this time he wouldn't stop, this time he would take what belonged to him.

He quickly removed her jeans and every last piece of barrier there was. She laid there completely exposed and panting with anticipation, watching him taking off his own clothes. His cock hung freely as he removed his boxers, hard and longing for her warm walls.

She had a brief moment to comprehend the situation, to grasp the weight of their actions. She was aware that this moment would change their dynamic, rewrite her role in his life and probably complicate their relation even more, but the consequences seemed to be a distant thing now, a minor issue she could deal with later.

He climbed back on top of her, his hands instantly on her body, exploring her curves with a possessive intensity. With one hand he grabbed her boob and his fingers twisted her nipple, making her gasp from pleasure and slightly pain. His mouth and teeth marking her neck with hunger and urgency she'd never experienced before. It was a little bit too much, too overwhelming. Her hands landed on his back trying to hold onto something. When his lips captured hers, the strangled sound she made morphed into a desperate plea, but what was she begging for exactly, she wasn't sure.

But one thing was certain, Elias wasn't a gentle man, and this wouldn't be a gentle sex.

He intended to overwhelm her, to take her apart, to break down any defiance that left in her. He wanted her surrender to be complete. And if that would happen to be too much for her?

Oh well, he thought, she'd seen that coming.

He reached down with one hand, his fingers slid up and down her already wet folds with pleasurable strength, making her moan against his lips. When he finally pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes blazed with a possessive hunger that made her whimper with plead. He studied her for a moment. Overwhelming pleasure? Yes. Craving for more? Also yes. Fear? Maybe a little bit.

Her warm and wet walls swallowed two of his fingers as he scissored them in and out, hitting the sweet spot inside her.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He asked in a low husky voice, watching her nodding her head, but not being able to answer.

He enjoyed watching her so vulnerable, so responding to him. He had a power over her and it only made his lust blistering, his cock almost painfully hard, demanding an action. He couldn't wait to finally be inside her, to claim her wholly and mark her as his. He could see that her breath also fastened and her cheeks colored with lovely pink. But he didn't let her relish this moment for much longer as he pulled his fingers out way too quickly.

"Not yet." He said, his voice low and commanded. "Spread your legs open for me."

She groaned dissatisfied, but did as he told her. He positioned himself between her legs and lowered his body. His cock pressed against her entrance as he pushed his hips forward with no warning. It was clear he wasn't waiting for permission, he was taking what he craved.

Her fingers curled on his back, scratching his skin at the sudden sensation of his cock sliding inside her with one swift motion.

"Fuck." She breathed closing her eyes.

It hurt a little, but the fullness she felt when he was all in, the pleasure it gave her, was intoxicating.

He looked down at her and started moving, relatively slow at first, savoring the feeling of her walls around his throbbing member, the delicious look on her face and the realization that she was finally his.

She opened up her eyes, his face was so close, his lips parted as he moved in and out. She pulled him even closer, feeling the weight of his body pressing her down to the bed. Their bodies closed any gaps that were between them as he leaned down and nibbled on her neck. She slid her fingers in his wavy hair and pulled back a little when his love bites got sharper, almost painful. He hissed and bit her neck in respond sucking on her skin until he left a big red mark there. It was clear that he was the one in control, the one who dictated the terms, and her subtle attempt to slow him down, only made him go rougher on her.

And weirdly, a part of her that she'd been barely aware of before, didn't mind that at all. His dominance fulfilled her hidden need to be completely at his mercy, to be completely submitted to him. It was something she didn't know she had in her. It was a revelation.

When he fastened the pace she tried to match his urgency, her hands roaming over his back, her nails digging into his skin, her lips capturing his. A guttural sound, a desperate need, he ripped from her throat as he pushed himself a little deeper inside her.

He reveled in her unrestrained passion, the way she met his every touch with a demanding fervor of her own. She wasn't just giving herself to him, she was taking him in return, demanding as much as she gave. He didn't mind, not entirely. He guided her with a firm hand, dictating the pace and the rhythm. He was in control and she had to obey.

"You're so fucking wet, jesus..." He said half in disbelief, half praising her as he slightly changed his position. Now he was pounding into her from a different angle, hitting a different spot. His hand reached down and rubbed her clit.

"Elias, I... I'm going t-to..." she moaned with her eyes closed.

He suddenly stopped and withdrew his hand to her displeasure. "No." He growled.

She tried to protest, but he silenced her with his hand. "You will come only if and when I say so. Understand?"

"Yes." she muffled, unused to this kind of dynamic in bed.

Satisfied by her respond he took her hand off her mouth and he changed his position once more. This time to go deeper.

She tried to withhold herself, but it was difficult, her pussy was throbbing, aching for release.

"Elias, please... Please, let me..."

Her begging was a symphony to his ears, a nice contrast to her usual dull defiance. He couldn't help and prolonged this little torture for a bit longer before he finally let her come. When the release came he watched her body stiffed, her back arched, her mouth open wide. She wriggled her legs and moaned his name over and over in a daze as he pounded inside her, until her orgasm subsided.

He gasped feeling shivers run down his body. It was an image that would be imprinted on his mind forever.

"You look incredible like that." He whispered with a softer voice that surprised even him, watching her smiling.

At this moment he knew she was hoping for him to slow down or even stop to let her catch a break, but he did none of that. Instead he fastened his pace pinning her down to the mattress again. She gasped in surprise.

"Wait..." She tried to stop him, but he only growled, focused on his own pleasure now, ignoring her plead. He kept pushing faster and harder, pulling one of her leg up to go even deeper. She squirmed and wriggled underneath him, his named rolled off of her lips like a whimper.

"Elias, s-slow down... I , I can't... take... it."

The sensation overwhelmed her oversensitive body. The pleasure he'd given her a second ago mixed now with roughness and pain that consumed her entirely. She was falling apart underneath him and it was too much to handle.

His reply however was far from what she excepted. Gone was the soft tone, replaced by a command.

"I don't care if you can't, you fucking will."

Her hands moved to his chest in a weak clumsy attempt to slow him down, but he quickly shifted and grabbed them, pinning them above her head.

"Stay still for me, I won't repeat myself."

She wriggled some more unable to control herself. It was too much, too fast, too rough but surprisingly not unpleasant. Her body ached with a new unexpected sensation, a pleasant tremor that boded another orgasm. She surrendered to him, her legs wrapped around his hips as she came the second time in hot waves, stronger than before.

He growled feeling her orgasm around his shaft. He was trying to push deeper, but his moves became more shaky, his pace more unsteady and soon after, he followed, releasing himself inside of her.

"Fuck!" He growled as he closed his eyes shut.

The warm spurts of his cum filled her fully as he pushed himself all the way in, his body shaking in ecstasy. After a moment he lowered himself on top of her, releasing her hands, but not pulling out. He hid his head in the crook of her neck, panting heavily.

They both stayed like that for a while, too tired, too spent and too elated to move. They were basking in the afterglow, delightfully lost in the moment. Right now, nothing else mattered. Not the rules, not the consequences, not the complicated aftermath they'd have to deal with later. The truth was, they'd taken each other, and there was no turning back now.