#at a loss for words man. how is this so cool.

[arcadequeerz]

BRO...how this tf2 horror video so good.

[sciderman]

I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with so much Iranian hate and drama <:[

oh anon. hate to break it to you (a lot of people make this mistake) but iran and iraq are two entirely separate nations.

and also i think reducing it to the words "hate and drama" kind of doesn't cover it, anon.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—a day with your favorite person on earth leads you to a fancy hotel for one weekend.. where you finally give yourself to your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.

content: college au, fluff, biker gojo, nerdy fem! reader, rich boy gojo (he spoils you bad bad), loving gojo, popular boy shy girl trope, smut, virginity loss, gentle sex, pussy eating, a lot of praise, petnames, reassurance

Friday, marked the calendar on your phone. You stood outside your house swaying lightly on your feet as you waited for your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru. He refused to let you get to school any other way.

You were clad in a simple white sweater and a black skirt, which blew up at the gust of wind created from your boyfriend’s speeding bike. You smiled, fixing your glasses on your face before giving him a pretty smile.

The tall man getting off with a grin on his face. Shaking his hair back into place as he took off his black helmet. Gojo walked towards you to embrace you in a tight hug, his hands around your waist lifting you off of the ground making you giggle. “Hi baby.”

Gojo placed a short kiss to your lips, “Hello princess,” his eyes filled with adoration as he walked you to his bike with his hand still on your waist. Putting on the helmet he made you choose out before helping you onto the seat. “Hold on tight.”

You always enjoyed morning rides like this. The cool wind on your skin as Gojo maneuvered through countless vehicles. Always making sure to not go too fast for your sake.

Your hands rested on his abs from behind, your vision being blocked by his back which you didn’t mind one bit. Gojo turned to ensure that you were alright, something he did every morning. And although you kept telling him that you were fine, he insisted on keeping himself reassured.

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, your smile still on your face even as you approached campus. Your boyfriend quick to park in the spot that everyone knew belonged to him.

Girls gawked as Gojo removed his helmet, once again fixing the white fluff of hair on his head before he was getting off the bike. Helping you do the same and removing your helmet for you, pushing your glasses further up your face since they had began falling. “God you’re so beautiful.” Gojo breathed.

And your heart beat sped up as you looked down shyly. Compliments.. you still weren’t very used to those. Gojo’s fingers found their way under your chin to lift your head up, “You’re really cute when you’re flustered you know that?”

He intertwined his fingers into yours, “Plus, there’s no need to be shy around me princess.”

You could feel eyes burning into you as you walked with Gojo, burying your body into his side at all the stares. “Are they ever not gonna stare..” you mumbled, looking up at him as he looked down at you. “They’re just jealous my love, don’t worry.”

You nodded, lips pulled into a tight line at the girls sending dirty looks your way. This was university for goodness sakes.. were they ever going to grow up. Noticing your discomfort, Gojo scowled in the direction of the girls, “The fuck are you looking at?” Watching as their eyes widened before scrambling off.

It was no secret that your boyfriend was popular, every teacher and every student knew his name. He was kind, a little mean and protective when it came to you, but he really was kind to everybody.

You however, you were just a girl who was non existent until you started dating Gojo. How did you two start dating? No one could phantom it.

—

Sitting on one of the bleachers, you were deep in a book. Your lunch sitting uneaten next to as you scanned through the words on each page. It was a romance, which you usually didn’t read but this one was just.. interesting.

Losing track of the time, your eyes widened when you saw that you were minutes late to your lecture. Hurriedly scrambling up your belongings and making your way inside.

You internally cringed when you pushed open the double doors to your class. All heads turning to look at you while your professor simply ushered you to take a seat. He knew you were never late, so he was very understanding.

Taking a random seat, you were quick to pull out your books and highlighters to take notes. Concentratedly jotting down important points and details, using your middle finger to sit your black framed glasses higher onto the bridge of your nose.

“Mind sending me a picture of those later today? I forgot my materials at home.” a familiar face smiled innocently, his bag hidden near his feet as he waited for an answer.

Gojo Satoru. A name that you obviously knew. He was extremely handsome up close, and his cologne smelt great. And he.. was talking to you? You tried your hardest to act neutral when you focused your attention onto him. “Oh, uh sure. No problem.”

“Great, let me put my number in your phone so you can text it to me yeah?”

You nodded, handing him the device and watching as he typed his number in. Saving it as Satoru. With a heart.

He finished just in time for the lecture to end. Slinging his bag over his shoulder with a wink, “Thanks princess.”

Ever since that interaction the only thing on Gojo’s mind was you. He began texting you for every little thing and talking to you every day. You guys became somewhat of friends.

Then he was holding your hands all day, saying that they were so much smaller and softer than his. Or wrapping his hand around your waist when you two walked. He told his friend Suguru about you, and though at the time you did not know the other male who attended a different school, you’d assumed he was a pretty great person.

Whispers started to float around the school about your relationship. None of which Gojo ever shut down despite knowing he had the ability to.

You and Gojo made it official after he took you on multiple dates disguised as hangouts. And you couldn’t even deny it, you had already started to fall for him by then. So when he pressed his lips to yours, pulling you impossibly closer to him with his hands on your waist. You melted. That was your first kiss, and it was perfect.

There should not have been a difference in Gojo’s behavior considering he treated you like his girlfriend from the get go. But he somehow proved that statement wrong. He was the best thing anyone could ever ask for. And he was most certainly the best thing that happened to you.

He got you used to early morning and late night bike rides. To the point where you began to love them just as much. You two were polar opposites, but he made it work.

One thing you never got used to, were the never ending stares and whispers directed your way. Even though Gojo was always there to put the person or people in their place.

You loved Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru loved you.

—

The day went by very quickly, you snd Gojo did not share any classes. But you spent every minute in between together. Especially since you both had only morning classes.

Gojo smiled as you two walked towards each other. Happy that he would be able to spend the rest of the day together. Until..

“Hi Satoru!” she smiled sweetly, purposely blocking his movements when he tried to walk past. You bit your lips as you watched the scene, not finding it in you to tell her off.

Gojo sighed in annoyance, “What the fuck do you want.” his voice was stern, she had been bothering him for over a year now, and it only got worse when he started dating you.

She tilted her head, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Oh you know.. just wanted to say that if you ever got tired of that ugly slut of a nerd i’ll be right—“

Her high pitched voice was cut off by Gojo holding her roughly by her neck. Something that was way out of character for him. He was just so sick and fucking tired of people talking about you like you weren’t a person. His person.

Backing her roughly into the lockers, Gojo voice was low and aggressive, “If you ever fucking talk about my girl like that again, i swear i’ll fucking-“

“Gojo..” you called out, the man’s eyes softening when he caught sight of you. “It’s fine, let’s just go.. please?”

Gojo nodded, giving the girl another dirty look, “I'd pick her over your ass any day.” Letting go of her and walking in your direction. The girl glaring at you before she stomped away.

Gojo’s hand was in yours once more, your head on his side as you two made your way out of the building. Gojo sighed, “I’m sorry love, got a little pissed off there.”

You smiled, “No, don’t be. I’m.. i’m glad you care so much.”

“Of course i care, you’re my girl and i love you.”

Your heart fluttered, “I love you too.” And you truly meant it.

Gojo got onto his bike after helping you on, both your helmets on your heads with your hands around his waist. Making sure you were secured before taking off. Except it was in the completely opposite direction from your house.

“Baby, where are we going?” you asked curiously.

Gojo only grinned cheekily, “You’ll see.”

You trusted him. Enjoying the ride to wherever he was bringing you. Watching as day turned into night from the long ride.

Your eyes widened when Gojo pulled over at some fancy hotel. His smile never faltering as he got off.

“Annnnnd we’re here.” he spoke, looking intently at your reaction.

“Baby why are we here?” you questioned curiously, still marveling over the beautiful tall structure.

“Giving you a weekend off of school, of course. Gotta take your mind away from all that work somehow.”

You were speechless, “Satoru, you really didn’t have to.” Gojo’s hands grabbed your face softly, tears welling in your eyes at the him going this far for you. Especially when one night alone was almost 400 dollars.

“Hey, look at me. I’m more than happy to do this for you.” He reassured, pressing his lips softly onto yours before chuckling, “Plus, when life gives you this much money, spend it on the person you love the most.”

“B-but i don’t have any clothes,”

“I’m taking you shopping tomorrow.”

Gojo lead you through the grand doors of the building, giving his keys to the valet on his way in. Making your way to front desk, you glanced nervously around you. Everything was white and gold, and you gelt so out of place with the clothes you had on.

“Satoru Gojo.” Your boyfriend nodded to the receptionist who smiled knowingly when she handed him the keys. “Enjoy.”

You waited in anticipation for Gojo to open the door. Your jaw dropping when you took sight of the rose petals making a walkway to the room’s bed. Which had the words ‘I love you’ in a heart spelt out from petals.

There were rose scented candles near the bed, but what really caught your attention was the mini backyard the room seemed to have. “Satoru.. you didn’t.”

He hummed, “Oh yes i did,” leading you outside to a large blanket set up. Candles surrounding it with roses scattered all over. A small picnic basket and a bottle of wine in the center as the moonlight shone down of the most beautiful gift you had ever received.

You wanted to burst into tears. It was so perfect, turning to Gojo with a trembling lip before embracing him in a tight hug. “I don’t even know what to s-say.. it’s so beautiful. I-“ you sniffled, “words cannot even begin to express how happy i feel right now. I love it. And i love you even more.”

Gojo smiled, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumb. “Anything for you love. Anything.”

After freshening up, you wore your boyfriend’s oversized sweater, giggling softly when he extended a hand. “Join me for dinner m’ lady?”

“I’d be delighted to.”

You sat next to each other on the wide blanket. Gojo opening the basket to reveal all your favorite foods and deserts. Your eyes practically sparkling under your lenses at the countless options.

You both dug in not long after, laughing with each other as Gojo messily attempted to feed you a slice of cheesecake. The cherry sauce staining the tip of your nose, and you yelped when Gojo licked it off.

It was amazing, you felt at peace. Especially as you two finished eating, each drinking a glass of wine before laying together. Watching the stars with satisfied hearts as you cuddled into your boyfriend. His arm around you as he held you almost on top his chest. Your legs tangled with his long ones as you matched your breaths to his.

Gojo couldn’t help it when your scent alone started to drive him crazy. The feeling of you on him, your skin on his. It was getting to him.

You could feel his cock growing hard underneath you, poking at your flesh making you heat up. Unsure of what to do, you ended up shifting on top of him. The man letting out a groan before holding you still. “Might not wanna move like that love.”

You playing with his shirt as you contemplated what to say next. You were a virgin, but.. you were ready to give it away, to him.

“Satoru.. I um.. I want.. I want you to f-fuck me.” You stuttered out. And Gojo’s eyes widened at the way you worded it. Fuck, huh? You wanted him to fuck you.

“Love, don’t think that you have to do this because you can feel me hard.” he started, “it’ll go away soon, you don’t have to worry.”

You shook your head stubbornly. “No, I.. I want it, want to do it with you tonight. Please.”

Gojo swallowed hard, his boner straining painfully in his pants. “Are you sure princess?”

“Mhm, i’m ready.”

Gojo smiled, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before he was gently turning you onto your back. The stars seemingly only shining down on you in that moment. “You’re so perfect.” he whispered, his eyes stuck on yours as he peeled the sweater off your body.

Finally breaking eye contact to kiss down your neck and onto your chest. Allowing his tongue to swirl around your pert nipple before kissing his way down your stomach. “Whole body’s so perfect.” he spoke against your skin. And you whimpered when he pulled your panties off. “Fucking beautiful.”

Gojo kissed down the smooth skin, kissing your clit which made you shiver, his tongue licking a teasing stripe on the small bud. Gojo continued his way down, kissing both your folds before his tongue made contact with your wetness. He groaned. “You taste so sweet love.”

Your breathing sled up before he could even start anything. Bringing himself up and stripping out of his own clothes. The moon shining onto his back as he hovered over you. His blue eyes bright and beautiful while lining up with your hole.

“You sure about this princess?”

You whined, “Just do it.”

Gojo chuckled, taking your hand in his before slowly pushing into you inch by inch. “It’s gonna sting a little,” he said right before you winced, feeling your tightness stretching to accommodate his girth. “That’s it.. there we go.. good girl.” Gojo soothed.

You let out a moan, a pleasurable sensation raking through your body when his cock grazed something inside of you. Gojo smirked when he got all of his length in you, your pussy tight on his stilled cock. “Tell me when to move okay?”

You wasted no time, wanting that amazing sensation back. “You can move.”

Gojo abided, slowly easing you into the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you. Your lips parting in loud mewls when he gained speed.

“O-oh Satoru, f-feels good.”

Gojo grinned, his pace gaining more speed with each passing second. Rolling his hips into yours until you were moaning uncontrollably. Feeling your boyfriend’s cock fucking into that same spot before making its way deeper.

Your hands reached up for your boyfriend’s hair. Tugging lightly at white strands with short whimpers which matched his thrusts.

Gojo grunted, “You like that?”

You nodded with a shaky cry, your stomach pooling with heat as your body was rocked back and forth. “Ahh— Satoru.” you mewled, Gojo’s mouth latching onto your breasts with a groan, sucking and licking at one while his hand squeezed the other.

Gojo began kissing up your neck. Littering your skin with small love bites as he made his way to your chin. Kissing your cheeks, your forehead, then finally your lips. Capturing all your cute noises while his hand moved down to your clit.

Your back arched with a cry when Gojo began rubbing small circles. Your toes curling with your moans becoming high pitched loud.

“Nnhg— haah— so g-ood,” you breathed, your eyes closing as your body began to tremble. An unfamiliar coil feeling ready to snap.

“Look at me when you cum.” Gojo husked, watching as you look up at him through your lashes. Your hips arching into his hand before you were involuntarily shaking. Your pussy clenching down on him with a short scream.

“There you go beautiful, let it all out.” he cooed, your pretty pussy gushing messily onto him

“Nngh— feels weird,” you mewled, your legs threatening to close around your boyfriend.

“Just let it happen, it’s gonna feel great. I promise.”

You took Gojo’s word, allowing the newfound feeling to wash over your body before your eyes rolled back, squirting harshly onto Gojo’s cock and thighs.

Gojo could feel his ego swell, “I made you squirt princess. My first time in you and i made you squirt.” he boasted, a lazy smile gracing his features as his thrusts got sloppy. Your moans never ceasing as he got closer to his release.

Gojo groaned, “Hmm— i love you so much. Love so you fucking much.” Burying his head in your neck as his abs tensed, quickly pulling out of you to spill onto your stomach. Your chest rising and falling in soft pants as you both came down from your highs.

You smiled shyly, “That was amazing.”

Gojo tilted his head, “Was it now?” Pressing a kiss to your lips, “I’m glad.”

Gojo took you back inside, running you a bath before settling in the tub with you in between his legs. His chin on your shoulder as he let you relax while he cleaned you up.

The weekend went great. He took you shopping, you ate a delicious breakfast, lunch and dinner. Visited the many pools and buffets. And had sex. Twice. It was better than anything you could ask for. And you wouldn’t give it up for the world.

No school, no ‘friends’, no bothers, no worries. Just you and Satoru. Exactly how it will always be.

[kxsalt]

(Hot Coffee, part one. Part two is here.)

Hot coffee pours from the carafe. The young lady turns back to her customer and hands him the steaming cup. He pauses to look thoughtfully into the brew. Pointing at it, he asks; “Is this vegan?” She stares at him blankly. “Uh, yes. Coffee is vegan.” He nods in approval and wanders over to the condiment bar to pour cream into his cup. The girl watches him with dead eyes, shakes her head, and returns to her work. “Oookay… I can help the next customer!”

The next man in line steps up to the counter. “Small coffee, black, please and thank you.” She’s relieved by his basic manners and comprehensive understanding of how to purchase coffee. Pouring his cup, she looks back at him and meets his eyes. “You look super familiar. Have you been here before?” He leans against the counter as she steals a peek at his toned arms. “No, I haven’t. I might be coming by regularly; I just started some work nearby.”  The barista brings the cup to him. “Ah, well, I hope you enjoy your new job!” Handing the man his coffee, they both glance over to see the first customer adding honey into his mug. He looks back at her with a compassionate smile. “Thanks, you too.”

She thinks about him for the rest of her shift, crawling through traffic on her bus ride home, and throughout the evening. I know I’ve seen him before, but where? He didn’t seem to recognize me at all. Finishing her night early, she crawls into bed. The girl opens up her laptop and reaches into her bedside drawer. Pulling out her strongest vibrator, she speaks to it. “It’s been a long day.” Pulling up an old comfort video she presses the buzzing toy firmly against her clit. She exhales deeply and finally starts to relax. Her eyes are fixed on the porn on her laptop. At first, she focuses on the man’s strong arms, gripping the woman by the hips – something that always excited her. But as the video carries on, she finds herself looking at the woman’s face. She looks so excited. Pleasured. Happy.

“You like that, slut?” The girl almost screams, dropping her vibrator between her legs. The man in the video has leaned into the frame. That’s him. From the shop today. That’s him. The woman in the video moans; “Yes! I love it!” He grabs her by the neck. “Do you want to be a good whore?”

She looks into his eyes. “Yes, I do.”

A few days later, the girl clocks out for her break. She spends it like all her other breaks, sitting outside, vaping, and fantasizing about sex or getting hit by a bus, depending on her mood. Today is a bus day. She blows a cloud of vapour into the air which drifts past the entrance to the coffee shop. A customer emerges with his coffee, lights a cigarette, and sits down next to her. The girl barely notices: She’s at the part of her fantasy where she’s in the hospital with a lawyer getting a giant check from the city. He takes a drag of his cigarette and gestures at the cloud in front of the shop.

“That stuff will kill you, you know.”

She jolts from her fantasy and turns to the smoking man. “What? Oh, hi! It’s you again. Um…” She fumbles with her device. “What do you mean? Smoking isn’t any better.”

“What? Really? But it’s vegan.” He retorts in a sing-song voice.

The girl clues in on the joke and they laugh together. She expected to be at a loss for words when she saw him again, but she finds herself oddly comfortable.

“So… I know where I recognize you from…?”

“Shit, really? They still have those wanted posters up? Please don’t call the cops.”

They laugh some more. “I just wanted to say… That I’m a big fan. I think what you do is… cool?”

“Oh, thank you! It takes a lot of vulnerability, so hearing that means a lot.”

“How did you start… you know… making porn?”

“What do you mean? I just started. Life’s short. I wanted to do it. So, I did.”

She nods slowly, stunned by the simplicity of his answer.

“You know, I’m filming right around the corner. If you ever wanted to come by and see the process, you’re more than welcome to. Just so long as it doesn’t ruin the magic for you.”

“Really? Yeah. Yeah, I would love that.”

“Great, here’s my number. Just let me know when you want to come by.”

He stands up and puts out his cigarette.

“By the way, you should quit. It’s bad for your health.”

“Oh please, vaping is the only thing that gets me through the day.”

He walks off to his job. “I wasn’t talking about that!”

She approaches the unassuming apartment door. Hanging from the door handle is a small sign: ‘Filming, don’t knock.’ The girl turns the handle carefully and sneaks inside. All the lights are off, except for the bedroom which is flooded with light. The familiar sounds of sex drift through the apartment. She stealthily approaches the doorway and peers into the bright room.

Three people with various film equipment surround a couple on the bed. She immediately recognizes her new friend kneeling behind a woman. He’s gripping her waist and forcing his cock deep into her. She’s bent over, ass up in the air, with her wrists handcuffed to the bedframe. The woman shrieks in delight with each thrust.

The director sees the young girl at the doorway and slips away to go and talk to her.

“Are you the fluffer?” The director whispers.

“What’s a fluffer?” The girl whispers back.

“Oh, you’re his friend. Never mind. Can you just wait here until the scene is done?”

The woman returns to the improvised set. The girl watches greedily, enjoying her voyeuristic perspective. She feels a combination of fascination and arousal that she’s never felt before. After a few more minutes, the director calls cut and asks the couple to switch positions. The woman on the bed rolls onto her back, her face flushed with ecstasy. The director waves to the actress. “Sorry, we gotta fix your makeup, take five, okay?” The woman releases herself from her handcuffs and scurries off to the bathroom.

“Hey, you made it!” The man sits on the bed, stroking his cock. “Come in, don’t be shy.”

She wanders over to talk to him, giving an awkward wave to the camera crew. Sitting on the bed next to the naked man, they make small talk and he explains a bit of how they work. All the while, he leans back against the bedframe, showing off his muscular body, and stroking himself. She finds himself staring at his thick cock running through his hands.

“Sorry, I just need to stay hard for when we get going again.”

“No problem… That makes sense. Nothing I haven’t seen before!” She jokes and toys with her hair. “Question: what’s a ‘fluffer’?”

“A fluffer is a girl who’s not part of the scene, who helps keep the actor hard during downtime like this. She might have sex or give head.” She catches him glancing at her chest. “…or sometimes just flirt and look cute. Usually, people just do it for fun, but it’s very useful.”

“Aha, okay…” She looks around the room. The crew is entirely ignoring her, scrolling through their phones. Looking into the bathroom she sees the actress still working on fixing her makeup. The girl turns back to the man.

“I don’t want to get in the way, or anything. But… Can I try? Being a fluffer?”

A sweet smile. “That would be really helpful.”

The girl smiles back and lowers her head into his lap. Taking his cock from his hand she strokes it softly, admiring its size. It’s bigger in person. Hungry for him, she wraps her lips around his head. He growls, sending warm waves through her body echoing in her pussy. Her mind goes blank and she slips him into her throat. Wet lips push into the base of his thick, shaved cock. Pride and excitement fill her as he starts to mumble and gasp from her fellatio. Saliva runs onto his balls, which she gently plays with as she deepthroats him. Her pussy drips as his breathing becomes raspy and shallow. I’m deepthroating my favorite porn star, and he loves it. She always knew she was a good cocksucker but getting this reaction from someone so experienced felt incredible.

His hand still softly stroking her hair, she sucks his dick joyfully. Lips wrapped around him, her tongue pushes firmly below his tip, licking upwards to squeeze a little taste of his precum. Still caressing his balls with one hand, the other strokes his shaft. The girl tightens her grip, maximizes her suction, and increases her pace. The man makes another primal noise, and the hand running through her hair finds its grip. Holding onto the back of her head, he pushes her face down again. The girl clamps onto his dick, forcing him to pull hard back up to slide her head up to the top again.

Willing tears roll down her concave cheeks as she holds his cock in his mouth with everything she has. The girl only relents her throat’s hold to let him force his cock deeper. Her shiny eyes meet his unfocused gaze. Her expression is one of complete submission. His expression could easily be mistaken for rage. The man’s other hand reaches down under her dress to find her without panties, and a smooth, bare pussy. She’s wet with her cum, and he grips her bum with the palm of his hand, sliding two fingers into her with ease. The girl’s eyes cross from the feeling of him penetrating her. He bares his teeth and shoves her head down again, and his fingers deep into her pussy.

Sparks fly across her vision and her head swims. A lack of oxygen from her deepthroating of the man’s thick cock, and adrenaline from his touch cause her to come close to fainting. Her pussy only gets wetter at the thought of passing out from getting used by him.

Moments away from darkness, the actress returns from the bathroom and steps over the girl to return to her position. As she reattaches the restraints to her wrists, the director asks them to resume the scene. The fluffer pulls her head off his cock with a pop. She looks up at him, teary-eyed, gasping for breath, and panting for his dick. His eyes are locked deep into hers with a feral glow. Teasing him, she gives him a naughty grin, strings of drool running from her chin to his throbbing cock. “Back to work for you!” Her voice is playful and confident, but her eyes betray a needy disappointment with their interruption.

The girl slowly slides off the bed, standing to face away from him. She looks over her shoulder, down to her exposed bum. His hand still deep between her thighs, gripping her ass, fingers still in her pussy. Not wanting to let go, he doesn’t break eye contact, holding her there. Pushing back just an inch, she fits a little bit more of him inside herself.

“Let’s keep going, we’ve still got a lot to shoot.”

The man gives a disappointed groan and releases the young lady. His fingers slide from her eager slit and he rolls over onto the actress. The girl walks back to the doorway with a sly butt wiggle. The man pushes his cock against the bound woman’s pussy, trying to resume the scene. The actress complains and whines, “Fuck, you’re so hard. Jesus, go slow to start.”

The camera rolls. The man is a professional, and he resumes fucking the actress, with just slightly less enthusiasm than before. Buried deep inside her, he looks up, past the lights, straight into the girl’s eyes. She winks at him and bites her lip.

[localkiss]

Heavenly sin

virgin pastor's son!leon kennedy x virgin fem!reader

cw: guilt!! p in v, porn watching (has some "intense" sex ig??), needy sex, virginity loss, creampies, thinking about god during sex, humping (dry at one point), oral (f receiving), awkwardness, CHECK-INS!!!, dirty talk, begging, soft ish dom!leon, pet names, mentions of daddy kink but only once, pregnancy mentioned a couple times, Leon's a sweetheart, goofy ending, rough ish treatment only once, confessions!!

wc: 6k...🧍🏻‍♀️

note: barely proof read and I don't know shit about church or anything like that... Lmk if I missed any tags! Also inspired by @moolvn's bot!

@valkyrurr @rigorwhoring @marymustdie @tatumrileyslover @frostywintersnow @queenofstresss haii yall ! :3

It's around 10 in the morning, and you're dressed in a flowy black dress with flower patterns on it. Perfect for church and for this wonderful spring weather. Pulling your hair back into a low ponytail, you get out of your parents car. They have already gone inside the church.

Walking briskly to the entrance, you take note of the flowers that are planted on each side that're beginning to bloom in the glowy sunlight. You make it in time to sit next to your parents before the prayer begins.

You bow your head and begin to listen to it. Soft shuffling is heard, and then there's a warmth on your right side, as if a heater were turned on.

Peaking out of your right eye, you see the pastor's son, Leon. Dressed in dark wash jeans and a white button up. He tilts his head towards you and smiles, mouthing, "Hello."

You smile and shake your head, closing your eyes to listen in on his father recite a prayer, so that the Holy Spirit will help us all understand God's words.

Despite trying to listen to him preach, your mind wanders off to the boy next to you. How his muscles ripple underneath his shirts. (which are always fitting for him. Like how?) And the way his beautiful oceanic eyes shine with purity. Especially when he's preaching about how God is constantly saving and bettering him and how important he truly is in his life. The way his brown hair flows in the wind and how it falls into his eye whenever he looks down.

It's all beautiful to you. You'd rather worship Leon than God. Would it be a sin to worship man instead of the Lord? Probably.

Every time you spoke with Leon, you felt dirty. You were filled with these disgusting, sinful feelings. You were afraid of it rubbing off on him and getting into trouble. Getting called the devil. Shunned and kicked out of the house for having feelings you didn't know how to fucking handle.

After all, you were only human. One with needs, thoughts, feelings, and insatiable cravings for a certain man beside you.

Once the pastor stops the prayer, everything else goes by quickly. You try not to stare at Leon while his father is reading aloud hymns. But it's impossible.

He catches your eye and flashes you a boyish smile. You look away. It's quite embarrassing to have been caught staring at him. You couldn't help it.

A couple hours later, the service ends. You get up and stretch your limbs, ready to leave.

A large hand grabs onto your forearm. Warmth surges through your veins, all the way up to your midsection.

Turning your head, you see that it's Leon. 

He lets go of you with a smile. "Are you busy today? I was wondering if you'd like to come over."

Biting your lip, you think for a moment. Looking over at your parents, they give you a nod of approval.

"I'm free. I can come over today." 

Both of you walk towards the exit, and he opens the door like a gentleman. You mutter a small "thank you" and step outside. 

The cool, light breeze washes over your body like a cold shower. It feels refreshing after being in a stuffy room for more than an hour. Breathing it in and letting it out, you turn towards Leon.

He squints at you with a small smile, motioning to follow him. You oblige, putting your hands on the bottom of your dress and bunching up the fabric so that it doesn't fly up.

By the time you guys make it to his house, your feet are dying in the black flats you're wearing. Rubbed raw on your heels by your pinky and big toes.

You sigh in relief as you enter his house, slipping your shoes off by the door.

The both of you walk into the kitchen and grab a cup of water. Heading upstairs to his room. You try to push down the nerves and excitement bubbling in your guts, but it's so hard. 

All you guys ever do is read, listen to the radio, and talk about your guys's jobs. Not all exciting, but laying in his bed and being so close to him is what gets your panties soaked. Maybe you are the devil's spawn. Getting aroused by just being in Leon's vicinity. It's bad. Real bad.

He opens his door and walks in, laying down on his plush queen-sized bed. His hair falls to the sides of his face as he closes his eyes. Breathing in deeply and then exhaling slowly.

You sit on the bed, eyeing him up while his eyes are closed. Noticing the way his veins on his hands are popping out, the small little freckles that paint his face and neck, and the way his lips look so velvety.

Wondering what it would feel like between your legs, your calves, and your neck. You shouldn't be thinking about him like this. It's wrong. But it feels so right.

"So, uh, what are we going to do?" You mutter quietly, tearing your gaze away from the white man beside you.

"I thought that we could just hang out." 

"Okay." You scratch your head for a moment, looking at one of the posters on his wall. It's a poster for The Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time. It's probably one of the only games his parents approve of. 

"Actually, hold on." He sits up slowly and begins to walk towards his desk, fishing something out. He holds up a CD with a grin. "I found this lying around on the bookstore floor. I thought that we could check it out."

Motioning with a nod of his head towards his computer. The thick monitor has the circular silver Dell logo on it at the bottom. Paired with his grey and black mouse.

Popping it into his PC as it whirrs on, you snatch his swiveling chair, making him sit on the uncomfortable wooden chair next to it. Maybe you should get a new best friend, thinking about how you come over so much that he has gotten another chair just in case you guys get on his computer.

You take over and open the Windows Media Player, then double-click on the CD's name. Spice it up in the bedroom! What an odd name. 

Turning up the volume on his mini speakers that're alongside his monitor as you wait for the media to load.

A woman and a man appear in the frame, with a messy bed behind them. She's hardly wearing any clothing, only her undergarments and stockings are on her figure. Meanwhile, the man is only dressed in his briefs.

You feel your cheeks burn red hot, swallowing thickly at the video. Afraid of what's going to happen next and afraid of looking at Leon after this surprise of a CD, you continue to look straight ahead.

They don't even introduce themselves, but they say one thing: "Here's how to spice things up in the bedroom. Watch and learn."

Shifting in the cushiony chair, you unconsciously grab onto the armrests.

The next part shows the woman lying down with her legs spread open. The man walks into the frame and sits on the floor next to the end of the bed. Putting his face in between her legs, he kisses her thighs. Trailing up to the bend of her knees and then to her ankles. Repeating the same for her other leg. 

Then he begins to leave small bite marks and bruises on her inner thighs. With each of them, her hips jump, and small moans leave her lips.  

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your most sacred parts ache with need. Hoping Leon doesn't notice it. 

But he did, just didn't want to point it out and embarrass the both of you even more than you guys already are. He's always staring at you subtly. He's not doing any better on his end, cock filling out in his jeans, begging to be freed from its confinement.

He's just thinking about the kind of noises you'd make if he kissed you there. But he shouldn't think about that. His heart sinks into his stomach, feeling guilty for even having those sorts of thoughts about you from time to time. He wanted to baptize himself again and again until those thoughts clouded him no more.

Leon always had to shower in cold water to make all of the pent-up need go away from his dick. He was afraid to touch himself. Especially to the thought of you. He thought you didn't deserve to be sexualized. How wrong it is to even imagine your lips on his! How soft and plush you'd be against his body.

Feeling like the devil has made its way into both of your bodies. Lust coats both of your frontal lobes, coaxing you into continuing to watch this sinful CD. 

The man begins to lick and kiss her panties which makes her noises grow louder and breathier. You hope to God that his parents don't come home anytime soon.  

He slips her panties off, and her precious parts are exposed to the camera. Leon makes a small gasping sound, and you snap your head towards him.  

"Leon, I.. I don't know if we should watch this. This is... wrong. I feel dirty, Leon." You search his eyes, hoping he'll agree, but he just blinks slowly at you.  

"I-I think we should continue. Don't act like this doesn't pique your interest," he mutters back. His eyes are slowly beginning to darken. 

Turning your focus on the screen, you hear him noisily slurping away between her thighs. The woman begins to get louder, and her fingers slot through his hair and pull him closer.  

She yells out, "I'm cumming!" And soon her legs squeezed shut on his head, her body convulsing and lunging forward to curl in on itself.  

"Fuck baby, that was so hot," He comes up and kisses her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and flipping her over onto her stomach. Fumbling with his black briefs, tugging them down and stepping out of them.  

You squirm uncomfortably, not sure if you can handle seeing a random man naked. But you gulp down the bile crawling up your throat, mixed in with sickening guilt.  

His cock stands up to attention, the tip as red as a tomato. A patch of hair surrounds it, leading down between his legs. He strokes it a couple of times, lolling his head back with a loud groan.  

"You ready, slut?" Tapping himself against her folds. 

"Y-Yes sir, I'm ready." The woman frantically nods and pushes up on her elbows, watching him sink into her hole.  

He grips her hair as soon as he's fully sheathed inside, pulling her towards him. Making her see how they're connected. You bite your lip as you watch this couple go at it for about five minutes. Watching them change positions and get louder and louder with each minute that passes by.  

He puts his hand on her throat and slaps her face, breasts, ass, and privates. It all makes you feel fuzzy inside, like you drank too much alcohol. The world is slowly starting to spin, with all thoughts going straight down between your thighs.  

But the way he talks to her is what really gets you.  

"You like that slut? Fuckin' taking daddy's cock so well, fuck."  

"Good girl. I know you can take it." 

"Yeah, cum on me, baby, squeeze this fat dick."  

"Stupid fucking whore, practically crying for me to creampie this tight little pussy. Isn't that right, baby? God, you know you want my cum stuffed in you."  

Her punched-out moans—the way she's clawing at the bed and sometimes at him—is what gets Leon excited. The way she can't even say anything remotely coherent to the man gets him so hard, it fucking hurts. Leon's boxers are practically stuck to his cock. 

Leon's hand drifts towards his groin, shifting it so it doesn't press against the zipper of his jeans. He lets out a soft hiss, putting a hand to his mouth as he slumps back against the wooden chair. Leaning onto the left armrest.  

Your ears pick up on Leon's strained noise, and you pull your knees up to your chest, breathing heavily between them. It's almost over, you think to yourself. Just a couple more minutes, and we can do something else. Forget about this, and maybe read the Bible to cleanse our minds.  

The guy on the screen pulls her up so her back is flushed against his chest, his arm wrapped around her throat to keep her there. Her body is shaking uncontrollably, and he groans deeply, thrusting a couple more times before he comes to a halt.  

"Fuck, baby girl, fuck. Take it. Mmhh, I want to get you pregnant so bad. Gonna suck on those fat tits until they're squirting milk into my mouth. I'm gonna love seeing you so swollen and full of my seed. God damn."  

That's it. He pulls out of her, and you can vaguely see a white liquid pooling out of her and onto the bed. Her body is so red and bruised. It makes you take a deep breath.  

By clicking out of it, you eject the disk and put it on the desk. Quickly shutting down his PC.  

Both of you sit there in silence for a little while. Afraid to look at one another.  

The air is so thick and hot, as if someone turned a heater on. It would make sense, as both of you have red faces and sweaty palms.  

Leon's the first one to clear his throat and shift in his seat. "So, um. What did we watch?"  

"For heavens sake, we just watched two people make love, Leon!" You whisper-yell at him, looking directly into his eyes.  

He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and looks to the side, clearly embarrassed. "Right."  

You get up and flop onto his bed, face first. The coolness of his sheets is washing over you like an ice pack. 

Leon sits next to you, practically burning his gaze on your thighs. Lost in thought of the possibility of doing something like what you both saw just mere moments ago. His hips are bucking upwards, seeking relief. Looking like a damn fool for humping the air.  

"Do you think that felt good? Would God like...allow them to seek pleasure like that?" You mumble into the bed.  

"I think so, but I don't know if God would be happy if they were to continue..without repenting for their sins and asking for forgiveness."  

Yeah, you figured he would respond like that.

"I feel gross, Leon."  

"Me too."  

You turn on your side and look him up and down slowly. "Are you... aroused?" 

Leon gulps and tilts down to meet your gaze with a small nod.  

"Me too." Your voice is soft and hushed. Rubbing your thighs together for some relief.  

At this point, you don't even care. God this. God that. Those women at the church don't seem to care when they get pregnant. They just pray and repent for their sins and move on with their day like nothing happened. So, God doesn't fucking care if you have intercourse or not. So long as you ask for forgiveness.  

His baby blues drop to your lips and back up, licking his own lips. Then, he leans down and boxes you between his firm body and the plush bed.  

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel him tremble above you. Heart thumping wildly in your ears, wondering if he can hear it too.  

Unconsciously, your legs spread open to accommodate his hips. He shifts his weight nervously, his groin settling on top of yours.  

Both of you moan and buck your hips towards one another, wanting more. Becoming insatiable beasts filled only with lust and need. Logic? God? Who needs that when you have horniness on the brain?  

Leon groans and buries his face in your neck, panting hotly against your skin as he begins to dry hump you. "Please... It-It hurts. I'm sorry." He stops himself from rambling on, nosing up to your earlobe.  

"Leon, it feels really good. Don't—don't stop, please." 

His hips stutter, and he lets out a soft whimper, touching his forehead to yours. "May I... may I do what the video showed, to you?"  

"Yes," you say as you connect your lips to his, tangling your hands into his thick locks of brown hair. Lightly pulling on it, earning you a groan into your mouth and a thrust against your clothed mound. 

Tongues uniting sloppily, moans spewing out, and desire floating in the air. A perfect recipe for disaster. 

He sits up on his knees, his eyes blown out, his lips red and glossy with spit. How can he get even prettier? It's not fair. It really isn't. God really gave him the best of the best, honestly.  

Leon quickly made work of his button-up, throwing it across the room. His wife beater is the only article of clothing shielding you from seeing his chest and abdomen. What a shame. Though you do see a small silver chain, most likely it is his cross that he always wears, no matter what.  

Breathing out of his mouth like his nose is fucking clogged, he hesitantly reaches up to the hem of your dress. "May I?" He whispers, pushing it up to where your shorts stop at your waist.  

You nod, your hips lifting up to help him get rid of your dress. It soon hits the floor next to his shirt. Immediately feeling embarrassed, you cover your black bra with your hands.  

Leon just stares in awe, his hands slowly trailing up your sides and tracing every contour and bend in your body.  

"So beautiful," he mumbles. His thumb feels nice and is also ticklish where the sun doesn't see your body. He carefully removes your arms away from your bosom, kissing the inner parts of your wrists and making eye contact with you for the entirety of this undressing. 

You gasp as he kisses down to your clavicles, making sure to take his time mapping out your figure with his lips now. Dipping down to your cleavage, his hands grab ahold of your waist, thumbs rubbing against the wire of your bra.  

Leon presses his lips across your entire chest, making your skin buzz and your soul leave your body. 

Never in your life would you have imagined Leon doing this to you in his own bed.  

He fumbles with pulling your cups down, trying to get rid of the bra. "Can you, um.. take this off?"  

You lean forward and unclip it, letting it fall forward into your lap. Getting your arms out of the straps, you are now topless in front of him. Topless in front of someone for the first time ever.  

God is getting ready to punish the both of you for sinning, and you know it. Closing your eyes tightly for a few moments as you try to battle with continuing or just leaving Leon to deal with his own battle. That would be just mean. And if you were going to sin, why not together?  

Gulping down the acid that clawed its way up your pipes once more, you shake off the guilt as much as you can. Opening your eyes, you see Leon getting closer to your chest. Ready to plant his love on them.  

He slowly kisses around your areolas, nosing his way from breast to breast. You let out a nervous giggle as he makes eye contact with you as best he can.  

Finally making contact with your nipples, he dips his tongue out and swirls around it. Pulling away with a soft 'pop', you card your fingers through his hair.  

"Did that feel good?"  

"Yeah, it felt really nice." You give him a shy smile, and he returns it.  

Leon does the same to the other one before leaning back and admiring you once more. "You are honestly beautiful." 

Covering your face with your arms, you push him with your knee, mumbling an embarrassed "thank you." You still have your manners, even for being the devil's best friend.  

Some shuffling, and you peek through your arms and see he's taking off his white wife beater. You bite your lip and shift to your haunches, running your hands up his abdomen. Mesmerized by the way his muscles tense under your fingertips, dipping down to a small patch of hair trailing down beneath his jeans.  

Smiling up at him, you wish to return the favor. Putting your lips near the belt of his pants, kissing each of his hip bones softly. His body twitches towards you, and he lets out a broken moan, putting his hands on your shoulders. You decide to be experimental and graze your teeth all the way up his stomach, stopping at his chest. Leon's sounds are going straight down south; you'll be surprised if your shorts aren't completely wet by now too. 

"Can I?" You grab ahold of the button on his jeans, toying with it. Asking him for permission to undress him as well. He shakes his head, yes, and you immediately start undoing his fly. With a soft gasp, you see his bulge with a wet spot near the tip, staining his dark blue boxers. You continue to tug his pants down to his thighs so he can do the rest himself.  

Leon's pants join the rest of your clothes on the floor. You shimmy your shorts and tights off. Both of you dressed in your undergarments.  

You lay back, eyes on his cross necklace, hoping that God will accept you both as you are after this experience. Making love before marriage isn't acceptable, and you've been told your bodies are sacred temples and to not let anyone in or touch you inappropriately. Both of you would be shunned, and God knows what else would happen. 

Leon begins to kiss his way down to your ankles and back up between your thighs. Slowly breathing in the scent of you. Pressing a few on your clothed mound, making you squirm, your thighs daring to close on his head. He gently pushes them away and up as he leaves little love bites where your legs connect to your most sacred spot. 

Moaning softly, you cover your mouth. Your eyes dare to roll back into your head as you try and watch Leon explore your features before he removes the last article of clothing, keeping him away from seeing you completely bare. He moans into your panties, kitten-licking to taste your arousal. He is doing his best to try and copy the video from earlier. 

"Please, Leon.." you whine, your hips pushing against his face, aching for more.

Leon nods his head and nuzzles against you, his nose stimulating you even further. He pulls away to remove your panties to dive back in. 

Getting messy with it, he drools onto your folds, pressing open-mouth kisses all over. Paying attention to where you moan and squirm the most. 

He dips his tongue down into your pulsating hole and groans, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you. "Tastes s'good, baby," he continues to ravage your poor, sensitive pussy, iron grip, keeping your thighs open. 

You squeak and grab ahold of his hair, trying to push him away as you feel an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout your body. "Leon! Wait, wait, I-I—" 

Leon moves his mouth up to your little pearl and begins to suck and nibble on it. That's what truly sends you over the edge. 

Back bowing, legs shaking, head thrown back with your mouth open in a silent scream. You can't even feel your lower half; pins and needles are crawling down your legs and into your feet. You're sure your legs snapped shut on his head, as you feel him so much more now. 

Soon you come back into reality with Leon hovering over you, his dick freed from its prison, poking your thigh. "You okay? Did that feel good, my love?" It's so sweet how he's checking in with you after giving you the best time of your life! 

"Y-Yeah," you breathe out heavily, pulling him closer by his silver cross. Toying with it between your fingertips. "That felt amazing. Thank you." 

Giving him a soft, sensual kiss. Tasting a bitter liquid on his lips. He chases you as soon as you part, dipping his tongue between your lips and asking for more. You oblige, and his thick muscle is invading your cavern, touching each tooth and swirling around your own tongue. It's turning hot and heavy as he presses his hips into yours, putting weight on you. 

He starts humping your leg, his cock pulsating and leaking transparent sticky fluids on your skin. He is moaning and panting into your mouth as he cups your breasts. Slowly pulling away as he takes you in once more, completely infatuated with you, it seems. And it also seems the feeling is reciprocated by yours truly. 

"Can I put it in, please?" Leon grabs ahold of his dick and clumsily strokes it over your cunt. His body is stuttering forward, and his grip on your breast is tightening just slightly. 

Biting your swollen bottom lip, you nod slowly. Bracing yourself for the intrusion down there. It doesn't even look like he'll fit inside of you; you're afraid he's going to somehow rip you apart down there. But you push down the fear with a shaky sigh. 

"Just, um.. let me know if it hurts," he swipes through your folds a few times before sinking into you gradually. 

Your body tenses up, and you grab hold of his hand, squeezing it as you let out high pitched breathy whimpers. Squeezing your eyes shut as you try to get used to his size. You can't believe he's taking your virginity. 

"W-wait, stop, stop, please... It hurts." You feel tears forming in your eyes, and Leon immediately halts. 

Pressing chaste kisses to your eyes and one on your lips, his body bucks forward. With a groan, he murmurs, "God damn. I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby."

Your pussy flutters around his length, and you breathe in and out, getting used to him. Canting your hips up to get more of him on your terms, you roll your hips with a gasp and say, "Leon."

He takes that as a sign to push more of himself into you, filling you to the brim. Shifting to lay down on his forearms, next to your head, you wrap your legs around his waist. Your nails dig lightly into his back, eliciting a low growl from him as he tries to calm himself down. Too aroused with the feeling of you wrapped around his shaft so tightly that he can't even begin to think properly. 

Taking a quick breather so that he doesn't accidentally fall on top of you. Lazily humping against you, stimulating your clitoral area while being so goddamn full of him. 

"Baby, god," Leon starts to clumsily push in and out of your sopping heat. Barely even disconnecting himself from you. If anything, he doesn't ever want to pull out of you. You feel too good; it would greatly upset him to stop now. 

It feels so intimate as he continues to hold your hand, sloppily kissing you as his dick slowly penetrates you deeper and deeper. Swallowing each other's noises, afraid of getting caught by his parents, is always lingering in the back of your mind. 

"Mmnn, you're so tight, it's hard to move." Leon drops his forehead onto yours, staring at you intensely. His eyes are soft yet lustful, carrying love in them, you see. 

Maybe you just hope that he loves you because you've loved him all your life. Having known him since you were 4 and he was 6, you couldn't have asked for anyone else to take your virginity but him. Even though he's the pastor's son. 

"I love you," you can't help but blurt out. Biting your lip as he speeds up his movements for a few thrusts before going back to his lazy ones. 

"You mean it?" He pants heavily into your mouth, feeling you nod your head against his. "I love you too. God, I really, really do. I promise, baby." 

With those heartfelt (sort of) confessions, he begins to pick up his pace.

Growling softly when you clench around him or make squeaky noises that can't be discerned by a whimper or a moan. He loves you and all your little noises. The freckles that paint your body. The way your body curves and your stretch marks—everything about you is so gorgeous to him. He wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. He's tried giving you signs and hints that he wants to be your boyfriend, but he is always too scared to say it outright. But now he's glad about how things turned out. Including giving you his virginity.

You claw at his chest, grabbing ahold of his necklace as he fucks you harder. Looking down at his member, you see a white ring around his base. Throwing your head back into his pillows, you feel another orgasm creeping up your body. 

"I'm gonna—it's gonna happen again, Leon, mmphh," you whine out as your legs try to close up, only to be blocked by his body. 

Leon lets out a pained whimper, and then all of a sudden he grips onto your hair and starts to gently bite under your jawline next to your earlobe. It's syrupy and slow this time; your mind goes fuzzy and blank. No thoughts, just Leon. And his manhood bumps into your cervix. 

"Please, let me... inside—can I?" His words are all jumbled up, and you can't help but say yes. 

He speeds up even more, which seems impossible, but it really isn't. It has your chest bouncing with each thrust, and soft cries are leaving your lips. He keeps on holding onto your hair and hand, bringing your face up to meet him halfway to make out with you. Drooling into your mouth and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. With each thrust, his necklace bumps into your neck. 

Hips stuttering into yours, he almost collapses onto your figure. Threatening to bury you into his mattress as he lazily thrusts a couple more times.

A hot liquid squirts into your womb, and Leon lets out a strained moan, dropping his head into your neck. Slowly letting go of your hair and letting your scalp relax after such harsh treatment. Your cunt clenches around him tightly. 

His hips continue to jerk into yours, almost making sure his cum stays inside of you. It's like his body already knows what to do after watching one video of people making love. 

Leon presses soft kisses up to your temple before getting off of you. Shifting back to his haunches, he hesitantly pulls out of your hole. Watching your cunt flutter around nothing, his seed slowly drips out of your hole. His dick jumps, hitting his toned stomach, almost ready to jump back into action for round two. 

"Baby, just so beautiful. I love you." 

You can't help but giggle at that, making more of the sticky white liquid squirt out of your hole and onto his sheets. He quickly notices that and grabs a few tissues to wipe it off, leaving you and himself clean. 

"I love you too, pretty boy," you sigh deeply, truly enamored with the way Leon just is. He's so sweet without even trying. 

You go to sit up and grab your undergarments, but your legs are too shaky to even stand up, and you almost fall over. Leon maneuvers you back onto his bed and fetches it all for you. Getting himself dressed as well. 

Hell, maybe it wasn't so bad to become a sinner. It was definitely a heavenly sin, that's for sure. 

You two stare at each other, lips swollen red, eyes swallowed by the black and flushed pink faces. Your hands interlocked as you slowly began to kiss. But this time, it's much sweeter and softer. No rush to feel skin on skin; just relaxing in the now. 

"What're we going to do?" Mumbling into the kiss, you pull away. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You.. you did it inside of me. What if I get pregnant? I can't be a mother right now, Leon," you frown, looking down at your stomach. 

"I'll figure it out, okay? And—And if you do end up carrying my child, I'll be there. I'm not just going to leave you."

And with that, your worries washed away, nodding alongside his words as if they were God's words. In a way, he is God to you. Constantly saving you, bettering you, loving you unconditionally, and listening to you. You'd get on your knees any day for Leon. He'd just have to say the word, and you'd do it. 

"Was I too rough? Are you hurt anywhere?" He presses a few chaste kisses on your forehead and temple. 

"No, but I am hurting... down there. It feels a little sore. But everything else is fine." You give him a thumbs-up with a goofy grin. He returns the silly smile, nuzzling your jawline. 

"I can see if there's any ibuprofen; I'll be right back, okay?" 

Shortly, he returns with two pills and sets them in your palm, bringing your water over to you. You take them with a gulp of water. 

"I think I've got to use the restroom as well. I'll be back." You let out a breath and walked into the bathroom across the hall. Doing your business, flushing, and then washing your hands before returning back to him. 

Joining him on his bed, under the covers, to snuggle up close to him. 

"You're so warm. I love it." 

"I'm glad you do, sweetheart." 

You both end up talking for a few more hours about work, your friends, hobbies, and, lastly, how long you've liked one another. 

"Wait, wait, wait," you giggle and lay on your elbows, resting your head in your palm. "You've liked me ever since elementary school? Why haven't you told me?" 

"I tried. I tried giving you hints; I even brought you a flower that one time, remember? And, like, I always let you borrow my shirts and sweaters. I thought that was enough, and you saw that, and, uh, just didn't like me back." Leon rolls his eyes and pulls you into his arms. Attacking you with kisses on your ear and behind it.

You squeal and squirm in his grasp, letting out a breathy, "Okay, okay! I see it now!" 

"What about you?" 

"Since middle school. Remember the time on Valentine's Day when I gave you like all my candies? And then, when we did bingo at church, I gave you my prize and said I didn't want it. Yeah, well... I wanted it, but I gave it to you instead." 

"So cute. I love you, baby bug," he mumbles into your neck. 

"I love you too, handsome," you answer into his shoulder. 

It is safe to say that you both fell asleep holding onto each other. With smiles on your faces. You both are dreaming of the day that you both get married and have the whole white picket fence, dog, children, and everything in between.

You'd risk your relationship with God again if it meant that you'd be with Leon forever.

He would absolutely risk being called a devil's spawn if it meant that he'd get to be your lover forever. 

Maybe God would forgive you if you decided to sin again and again. As long as you are happy, it doesn't matter what happens. If and only if, you have Leon, the pastor's son, in your arms, everything will be alright.

[tyunphoria]

🌪️it’s a scream, BABY ! — h.js

- - - - -

⚠️NSFW CONTENT⚠️

- - - - -

ghostface!han jisung x reader

SYPNOSIS: when you thought you finally escaped that psycho who calls himself ghostface . . . think again. he always finds you.

INCLUDES: AFAB reader, ex!bf han jisung, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), slight angst near the end if you squint, SMUTTT, aftercare, ngl kinda rushed oops.

WARNINGS: obsessive behaviour, threatening, mentions of death and murders, han having slight yandere tendencies, DOM!han, fingering, hair pulling, dacryphilia, praise, implied voice kink, knife play, fear play, finger-sucking, rough sex ig idk, begging.

wc: 3.7k

You approach the front door with relief, the aches in your feet swelling after a long day. "I'm home," you call out wearily.

Silence responds. No clattering of dishes from the kitchen, no muffled music from upstairs. Just the low whine of machinery emanating from somewhere.

Frowning, you kick off your heels, biting your lip against the sting of fresh blisters forming at the back of your ankles. Your shoulders slump as you drop onto the couch, its faded pattern doing little to lift your spirits.

Wincing, you massage the ache from your feet, inspecting the angry skin stretched tight over your swollen heels. Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the steady hum of the fan fades into the background. You lean your head back, eyes drifting shut against the gathering gloom. Slipping off your shoes was the first victory of what promises to be a long night ahead.

Laundry, mopping the floor, cleaning out the cupboards; fuck it, that can wait till tomorrow morning.

Sliding the uniform jacket from your shoulders, you sigh with the release of tension. The cool air hits your skin as you unbutton your work blouse, revealing a tank top beneath.

You adjust your skirt, glad to be free of the restrictive waistband and back into casual clothes. Glancing at the clock, you let out a sigh. Your roommate must be still working out late again. So much for a promised and well deserved girl’s night.

For now, though, you tune out the noise and settle further into the couch. Remote in hand, you aimlessly scroll through TV options in search of a mindless distraction. Anything to pull your exhausted mind from the drudgery of the day.

2 years, you frown.

It’s been two years since you’ve moved to seoul after the ghostface attacks from your hometown. You were lucky enough to survive, but the price of your survival was steep. It entailed enduring the loss of friends and family.

Till this day, it’s still a mystery as to who the killer was. Rather, killers as some people theorize.

But you know who he is.

You knew ghostface all too well.

How could you not ? He was the man you once loved and cared for. Until he went batshit insane and claimed to only be doing what’s best for the both of you by killing anyone who came in between your relationship.

You can’t tell the police. You can’t tell anyone. If his name happens to get leaked in the public, you’re the first person he’d go for.

“Stop thinking about him,” you groan, rubbing your temples. He’s probably dead in a ditch somewhere, why stress over it ? You settle on the news channel instead as you slump further into the couch.

“We interrupt your regular programming with breaking news. This is Lee Dae-suk reporting live from the scene. Just moments ago, authorities received a distress call by a janitor from HYBE Co.” you quickly sit up from your seat as you hear these words. That’s where you worked . . .

“Upon arrival, they discovered a chilling scene that has left investigators and the community in shock,” the reporter continues on with how there were two victims from your workplace suffering from injury and were rushed to the er, and the other two were found dead. “. . . the initials G.F. were carved on their chests. Detectives suspect that this traces back to the ghostface attacks of 2021 in [hometown]. We advise all citizens of seoul to be on high alert for potential suspects. Law enforcement officials advises everyone to stay indoors no longer than nine.

We will keep our viewers informed as this case unfolds. We now return to your regular scheduled programming brought to you by—“

You grab the remote and quickly shut off the tv.

“Shit, please f/n, answer your phone,” you gnaw on your nails whilst pacing around the living room. If this is the same ghostface, he must’ve followed you. It would be all your fault for leading him here. The thought makes you sick.

You dial her number again with shaking hands, desperate for an answer.

“Hey—“

“F/n!”

“you’ve reached f/n’s voice mail ! i’ll call you back when—“

“Fuck !” You exclaimed, throwing your phone onto the couch in frustration. The worry and fear is eating you alive. You try calling again and again, each unanswered ring twisting the knot of anxiety in your stomach tighter. With a sigh of defeat, you finally slump down on the couch, cradling your head in your hands.

"She'll be fine...she has to be fine," you say quietly to yourself, taking a slow, steadying breath. But before you can fully calm your racing mind, your phone suddenly rings, the sound jolting through you. Your heart leaps into your throat as you don’t bother checking the caller ID before picking it up with trembling hands.

“Hello ? F/n ?”

- “hey, baby.”

replied a deep, gravelly, modulated voice.

- “miss me ?”

Your breath hitched as you froze. A shiver ran down your spine as your eyes flicker to the open blinds.

“Ghostface.” You acknowledge. From the other line, you could hear him click his tongue in disapproval.

- “I prefer the nickname ‘darling’.”

“What the fuck do you want, Jisung ?” You tried not to show any signs of fear but the slight tremble in your voice says so otherwise.

“What ? Aren’t you gonna go ask me what my favourite scary movie is ?” You made your way in the kitchen as your hand inched to grab a knife.

- “I have a better question. Do you like games, y/n ?”

You pass your index finger between the various knives on the rack, fingers wrapping around the biggest handle.

“Fuck you.”

Jisung can be heard chuckling. His laugh made your stomach twist. What sick bastard thinks all of this is just a game ?

- “Even with that knife in your hand, you’re still as beautiful as ever. And the look of fear in your face ? It’s fucking hot, baby . . .”

You feel your heart starting to race as you flinch and turn around, all your senses now activated.

- “Tell me, are you gonna stab poor ol’ ghostface with that knife ? You aren’t any better from me, y/n.”

He was taunting you and you knew that.

You end the call after telling him that he could go fuck himself before rushing over to the windows and locking them shut. Same goes for the door as well while you clutch the edge of the dinner table as if your body were threatening to collapse.

The phone vibrates in your hand, except this time it wasn’t a call but a notification from the unknown number.

Your hands begin to shake once again as you huff and puff to regain composure, clicking on the notification to reveal a video.

A video of f/n entering her car.

You jumped at another vibration. He’s trying to call you again. The whole situation was frustrating — not only were you scared as shit, also a bit agitated with how he wasn’t just threatening you but your loved ones as well.

You peer down the halls, silently peeking at every room. When you finally accept the call, your heart drops at his words.

- “Hang up on me again, I dare you. I’ll mail this bitch’s head at your door, don’t fucking test me, y/n.”

The violence of his threat burned your eyes but you had no choice but to swallow back your tears. You’d just have to listen, so no one else got hurt. You can’t bear losing anyone—not again . .

“Jisung,” you close your eyes as a shuddered breath escapes your lips. “I’ll listen. I’ll do anything you want, okay ? Just please, don’t hurt anyone.”

He slightly softens at your pleas. Jisung still loves you, with all his heart and he wishes for nothing more than to go back to how things used to be. But he knew better than that, he's already far too deep to return with how he used to be.

- “Such a good girl for me . . . See how easy it is to obey ?”

Despite the fear, you cursed at the way he still had an affect on you. Somewhere in him, it’s still the same Han Jisung you’ve grown to love. The feelings you’ve stored away after all these years were beginning to resurface, and you were ashamed to admit it.

- “hm, what game, what game . . . Have you ever heard of the game hot and cold ?”

You nod, clutching the phone tighter. Words were stuck in your throat and you knew he could see you though he seemed to be dissatisfied.

- “Use your words, beautiful.”

His nicknames are starting to trigger a reaction that you hadn’t expected and felt so guilty. Heat spreads through your body, and shamefully enough, between your legs.

“I have,” you stammer.

- “Alright. Here’s the deal; find me and all of this’ll be over. I’ll leave you alone. Sounds like a plan ?” It seems all too good to be true. Find him and then what ? Will you have to just trust his word and believe that you’ll be finally left alone ?

- “Better start looking, I’m getting impatient here, princess.”

After a few minutes, neither of you spoke. The silence is weighing heavily down on your shoulders. The thought of not knowing where he is and him being able to pop out and slice you at any moment now increased your degree of fear. You walk out of the living room and open your roommate’s door, switching the light on.

- “cold.”

You grumble in response and made your way to your own bed room, eyes landing on the doors of your closet. Hands inching closer to the handles, you hear his breathing become more erratic making you pause.

- “Why’d you stop, baby ? Perhaps I’m in there.”

Your hands trembled as you grab the handles of your closet and pulled it wide open with eyes closed. To your surprise, he wasn’t there.

- “keep looking, sweetheart.” He laughs tauntingly. “Remember, this isn’t some cliche horror movie. The closet, really ?”

- “What's next ? The basement ?”

“Fuck you !” You didn’t wanna play this game anymore. By the time you found him, you’d be dead from a heart attack.

You exit your room and keep walking.

- “still cold.”

Sighing in annoyance, you head for the opposite direction, about to pass the bathroom till he spoke.

- “warmer.”

Taking a deep breath, the door creaks open as you step inside, flicking the light switch on. You inch closer to the shower curtain, letting out a tiny whimper.

- “You’re getting so warm. Very good, baby.”

You never had a thing for praise till now and let me just say that shit made your knees buckle. You wish you could just tell him to stop messing with you, the whole situation itself was already confusing enough.

- “Now you’re boiling.”

You grip the shower curtain and throw it open.

Nothing.

Absolutely, nothing.

“Bastard,” you groan. “Show yourself, asshole ! I’ll beat the shit out of you !“

- “hey now, no need to get violent. Keep talking to me like that and I’ll fuck that attitude out of you,” han spat.

“I’m done with your shit. Grow a pair and come at me, why don’t you ?” You held your phone tightly in your hand you could’ve crushed it. You head to the kitchen and grab a glass of water to soothe your dry throat. You laugh in realization, “I doubt you’re even here. God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I fell for it. How else could you send the video if her work’s like miles and miles away ?”

- “you asked for it. No backing out, ‘kay babe ?”

You pause. “What ?”

You immediately drop the glass along with your phone as a gloved hand reaches from behind to clasp over your mouth. Letting out a muffled scream, you thrash in his grasp, reaching to grab the knife from the counter but his free hand swiftly takes hold of both of your wrists and binding them behind your back as the masked man hunches you over the counter.

“Surprise, y/n.”

Tears blur your vision with your screams and whimpers getting muffled by jisung’s glove. He lets go, giving you some time to catch your breath.

“Let go, jisung !”

He inhales audibly, bringing you tight against him. “Scared, sweetheart ? I know you want this as much as I do . . . Think I didn’t notice the way you were practically soaking wet with just my voice ?” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. “Such a naughty, naughty girl.”

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. A moan threatens to leave your mouth but you manage to bite your lip. His hand inches lower, slipping through the waistband of your shorts, clenching your thighs to refrain from giving him access.

“Open those legs for me, pretty girl,” he clicks his tongue, getting impatient.

“Burn in hell.”

With that little comment, he rips off your shorts along with your lacy panties. A new complaint comes from the back of your throat and you start to squirm and thrash again, unconsciously moving your ass against his clothed cock to push him away.

He snickers, keeping you pinned on the counter. “Impatient, are we ?” He lifts his robe and tugs his sweatpants down. Han jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.

“I missed you,” he rips his mask off, trailing kissing along your neck while he taps the flat of the knife against your cheek. “So fucking much . . .”

“What do you want ?” You gulp, melting in his tight embrace. God, you missed this. You missed him.

“You.” He rolls his eyes, “thought it was pretty obvious, but guess i have to spell it out.”

Han lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and stomach, applying more pressure afterwards to slice your tank top open. The cold air hitting your hardened nipples and the knife lightly dragging along your breasts made you gasp and arch your back against him.

He teases your cunt with the handle, dragging the object along your folds as he circles your clit with it. “Like that, sweetheart ?”

You moan as he smiles at the cry he drew from you.

“Use your words, baby,”

You took a shaky breath, hips swaying. “Fuck you, han jisung.”

He plasters on an amused smile as he shoves the handle in your cunt.

“I really gotta fix that nasty attitude of yours.” He says, taking his glove off.

He replaces the handle with his fingers, gently curling them as he moves it in and out your sopping pussy. You draw out a long whine, legs trembling and you could barely keep yourself up. “Oh god…. Fuck, jisung….”

The cute noises you were making encourages him to keep going as he picks up the pace, thrusting his fingers harder and deeper.

His other hand reaches up and closes his fist around your throat, scissoring his fingers inside of you. You’re reaching for logic, for dignity, but everywhere there’s only him.

Your moans were getting louder and louder at each plunge of his fingers, deciding ‘fuck it’ since it felt too good to stop now. His thumb pressed your clit in a delicious way which brought a familiar sensation in your lower belly. The coil in your stomach tightens painfully.

Han grins at this, knowing you were close.

He purposely pulls his fingers out before your release, suddenly feeling empty as a long string of curses and whines spill from your lips.

“Seriously ? Literally what the fuck—“

Han silences you by pushing the two fingers into your mouth.

His fingers skillfully venture deeper into your throat. The slight pressure causes you to choke momentarily, a mix of vulnerability and exhilaration flooding your senses. Your lips form a tight seal around his fingers, tongue swirling and sucking on them as the primal desire to please him fuels your actions while you greedily lapped your tongue.

His mouth, warm and eager, delicately explored the tender flesh of your neck beneath his lips. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, breath hitching in anticipation as he lines himself up against your entrance.

Moaning, you can’t help but impatiently grind against him

“What’s wrong baby ?” Han releases his fingers from your mouth as you gasp for air. “want my cock instead ?”

You nod eagerly.

His grip on your hip tightens as he tugs your hair back, eliciting a curt hiss from your hips. “Words, y/n.”

“Yes . . Please, I want you so bad, please fuck me.”

“Good girl.” He wastes no time sheathing and snapping himself inside of you, his thrust knocking the wind out of your lungs. He swears quietly, feeling how soft your walls were pulsing around him — warm and perfect, everything he missed over the past few years. You choke on your words, eyes fogging with tears as you slur out random sentences.

He grunts, starting off slow. “Thought I stretched you out pretty good but you’re still so goddamn tight. When was the last time you fucked someone, pretty baby ?”

Han deepens his strokes but keeps a teasingly slow pace. “Pl—Please, Jisung-ah …. go faster.” You sniffle, pathetically begging for his cock at this point. It hurt too much. You needed him more than ever.

“Where's the girl who was telling me to burn in hell a couple of minutes ago ?” He laughs and grabs your jaw to turn and face him, “you look better so needy for me like that . . Now, answer my question.” A groan leaves your mouth as his grip gets tighter.

“Since you left !” You sob as he rocks his hips faster, quickly fucking into your heat. “I haven’t found anyone as good as you, jisung-ah—“

He grins, roughly pinning you down on the counter. It was the answer he exactly wanted to hear.

You gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, beginning to see stars as he brings a hand around to the front, running a finger against your swollen clit.

Moving inside of you at a nearly brutal pace, as you feel your release come closer and closer. He feels it too with the way you tighten around him. “M’cumming,” you whine, but he doesn’t stop. Then you came, walls clenching around him as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs tremble under the intensity, tapping on his arm for him to let you breathe for a second.

His hands grab your waist and uses it as leverage to thrust into you, leaving you little to no time to at least catch your breath. You try to speak but another one of his hard thrusts trigger a loud moan.

“Doing so well for me, baby. Think you can cum a second time ?” You moan brokenly, unable to respond. Your tongue hangs from your swollen lips and your throat feels dry. You never expected being fucked silly by the one and only han jisung ever again but here we are. You feel selfish for not wanting it to end and for wanting to be with him again.

He pulls you up and flips you around, hungrily smashing his lips against yours as if he’s been waiting to finally taste and have you all to himself for decades.

- - - -

“I hate you,” you groan as he lays you down on the soft mattress of your bed. “so fucking much.” Han only ever grins in response as he wipes away the cum trickling down your inner thighs.

You can barely move. You can’t even twitch a single finger.

Your limbs were sore and it was all his fault.

Summoning the last ounce of strength within you, you deliver a knee to his abdomen, eliciting a deep grunt from his lips. A look of mild annoyance crosses his face as he settles down beside you, encircling your waist with his strong arm. He presses his face into the soft curve of your neck, his fingertips tracing soothing circles along the tender flesh of your thighs.

“I missed you,”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t respond to that.

Suddenly, your lips meet in a sweet collision, a mingling of desire and longing. The taste of anticipation linger on your tongues as Han’s kisses began soft and tender, gentle brushes of lips that convey a depth of emotion words could never capture. With each meeting of your mouths, your passion ignites, growing more fervent, more urgent.

His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, while your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the ardor of your embrace. Your mouths moved in perfect synchronicity, exploring and claiming, as if they were trying to memorize every contour, every taste.

The moment is abruptly shattered by the piercing wail of police sirens echoing just outside the house. Panic grips your heart, forcing you to acknowledge the harsh reality that the person you love is still a criminal; a killer.

With a heavy sigh, he gently drapes the covers over your form, shielding you from the impending chaos. Reluctantly, he pulls himself away, but not without leaving a lingering kiss upon your trembling lips, as if to imprint his love upon you, even in the face of uncertainty.

"Y/n?!" A familiar voice calls out from outside, the voice of your roommate.

His lips press against your forehead, his touch both comforting and fleeting. Your fingers instinctively cling to his sleeve, desperately trying to hold onto the moments you have shared.

"Wait, Jisung..." you plead, your voice laced with apprehension and longing. Your thumbs nervously fiddle with each other, betraying the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

A mischievous smile plays upon his lips as he leans closer, his voice a whispered reassurance. "Will you come back?" The thought of losing him again scared you.

"It isn’t that easy to get rid of me," he smiles cheekily as he opens the window sill, "Don't miss me too much.

“Remember, whether you like it or not, I'll always find you."

a/n: the amount of times ive watched all of the scream movies (esp 1, 4, and 6) is not healthy</3

also, han jisung brain rot wkjanjanw

this was honestly supposed to be a two part with minsung but i decided against it idk kinda wanna do more ghostface aus with ateez or something

like im boutta write some ethan landry x readers cus lemme js say 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako

Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans

LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 4)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Vox is determined to win you over, no matter what. You just want your damn peace back.

Warnings: some mature themes (mention of sexual arousal)

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Vox gripped the bathroom counter, staring at himself in the LED outlined mirror. "You've still got it," he said to himself firmly, lifting a clawed finger to point at his reflection. "Just be cool, man."

He relaxed his face into his signature grin, leaning an elbow against the counter. "Hey Y/n, how's everything? I was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee sometime?" He threw in a wink for good measure.

A second of silence passed before he shuddered violently, breaking composure. "Ugh, no, no. Focus, man. Okay," he repositioned himself, shoving his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. He cleared his throat, mustering up his best confident, devil-may-care expression. "Doll, what do you say we get out of here tonight, yeah? Just say the word and I'll get us a private room at your favorite restaurant."

His smile twitched. Shit. That wouldn’t work on you either.

This was ridiculous. He started trends on a whim, charmed the masses to hang off of his every word, and yet—here he was, rehearsing in front of a bathroom mirror like a prepubescent boy with a crush. And failing miserably too.

He shook his head to clear it, hands grasping at the sides of his monitor so tightly it displaced the pixels on his screen. "Think Vox, what did you do to make her like you the first time?"

But if he was being completely honest, it was actually you who made all of the first moves. You who captured his attention like a vice. You who reeled him in, hook, line and sinker. There was no grand courtship on his part. In fact, he couldn't even remember the exact moment he had started to fall for you. It was all so easy, natural, seamless. He didn't have to do anything except for be himself.

He pursed his lips, turning back to the mirror warily. And—whatever, fine, fuck it. Not like anyone could see him debase himself like this anyway.

Vox sighed, his smile dropping like an overused mask. The desperation and vulnerability that he hated so much creeped back into his eyes, making him tense.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm such a damn idiot and—I just..." he trailed off, before groaning, dropping his head in his hands. "Fuck, this is pathetic."

What was he doing? Wallowing in self pity like some lovesick loser? For fuck's sake, he wasn't just some spineless bottom feeder, he was Vox. CEO of Pride's largest conglomerate. People would kill to be in his position.

A shaky grin forced itself back on his face as he lifted his head. Fuck, enough of this. Nothing was going to get done if he just sat here and twiddled his thumbs all day. It was time to make a move.

With his mental armor back in place, he marched to your room like a man on a mission. He may or may not have sent a drone on your tail to find it, since everyone else in this damned hotel seemed hellbent on pretending that they had short term memory loss when he asked. It was still a prototype, unreleased to the public. A camera the size of an ant, for incognito purposes of course.

When he finally reached your door, he pasted a confident, charming smile on his face. One that he knew used to fluster you once upon a time.

"Just act natural," he chided himself quietly, taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.

There was a moment of silence, before some shuffling was heard, and then the handle was turned.

Vox froze as you opened the door, dressed in baggy sweats with your hair in a disarray. Your shirt had ridden to the side at some point, and the rumpled neckline was exposing the enticing dip of your collarbone. He felt his mouth go dry.

And suddenly it struck him how much he missed you. God, he'd missed you. Your comforting presence, your lively humor, even the small things like waking up next to you or seeing your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. And fuck, it hurt to have you just out of reach.

Your pretty mouth pulled down into a frown when you saw him, body language changing from relaxed to guarded in an instant.

Vox forced himself out of his trance, clearing his throat. This was his moment to shine. He'd practiced for this.

"Hey—" he started cheerfully, before the door was promptly shut in his face.

Vox blinked stupidly, standing in front of your room in shocked silence. Did—did you just—?

Frowning, he raised a hand to knock again. "Y/n?" He called out in confusion.

"Go away, asshole," your muffled voice came from somewhere on the other side of the door. "I don't want to talk to you."

"But—"

"I said beat it," you growled, before a glowing barrier materialized outside of your door. Fuck, if he touched that he knew he wouldn't stop bugging until tomorrow morning.

"Fine," he hissed under his breath, turning and storming away. So that was how you wanted to play it, huh? Fine, joke’s on you. He liked a challenge.

On the way back to his room though, he felt a familiar, pleasant tightness between his legs. Vox froze, slowly looking down at the noticeable tent in his pants in horror.

"Oh, come on."

****

The next few days could only be described as an intensely aggressive game of cat and mouse. He tailed your ass like a damn police dog, determined to get even a moment alone with you—but to his absolute irritation, you kept coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to blow him off.

He invited you to take a walk with him after dinner? You suddenly developed a spontaneous stomach bug and now you were bedridden. He held a door open for you? You pushed open the other side of the double doors and maintained unimpressed eye contact with him the entire time. He couldn't even follow you with his micro-camera anymore, because you'd promptly discovered it and stabbed it to his bedroom door with a needle as a violent warning.

Nothing was going according to plan and he was growing more frustrated by the minute. What was the point of coming here if he saw you just as often as if he had stayed in his tower?

"How am I supposed to convince her to come back," his eye twitched, one night on a rant-filled phone call with Velvette. "If I can't fucking talk to her?"

Velvette looked at him like he was a dried piss stain on the wall. "Vox, do I look like I give a singular fuck about your dumpster fire of a love life?"

Ah yes, such encouraging commentary as always. Really, he didn't even know why he bothered to call if his abused ego was just going to get attacked while it was already rolling around in a fetal position.

"You're still on the call with me," he said pointedly.

Velvette rolled her eyes, scrunching her nose up at him in irritation. "Fine, since you're so pathetic, I guess I could spare some charity," she ignored his scoff, continuing without a hitch. "You need to fucking lay off, stop trying so damn hard to get her attention. It’s giving desperate and creepy."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are," Velvette glared. "Listen. If you don't want to end up permanently dumped, you need to compromise. Stop acting on your emotions like a toddler, you can't fucking afford that right now. And neither can we," she grumbled the last part.

Vox dug his claws into the bedding he was lying on, tearing up the soft material. The thought of giving up on you physically pained him, but...this wouldn't really be giving up, right? Velvette was suggesting a temporary ceasefire, a way to make you let your guard down, which might not be such a bad idea. It was more like...a strategic redirection of his efforts. Something that would benefit him in the long run.

He needed to build up the trust you'd lost in him. Slowly, bit by bit, until you accepted his feelings again.

The gravity of the situation was daunting. Something told him that this was his last chance, that if he fucked up one more time, you really would be gone for good.

He couldn't afford to lose you like that. It would fucking break him.

A loud crash sounded in the background on the other line, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Velvette's face drew into an aggravated sneer as she turned around. "For fuck's sake. What the fuck is it no—"

The line went dark, cutting off the call.

Vox sighed, throwing his phone blindly somewhere on the bed as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep evaded him that night, but in its place he started to devise a new strategy. Velvette was right, if he kept pushing, he would only drive you away. It was time to change his approach, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was...time to put his pride on the backburner.

Because he could live without his pride, but fuck—he didn't even want to think about what an eternity without you would be like. Besides, it was only until all of this was over and you came back home. He just...had to be patient.

****

After taking a few days to regroup, Vox was now more than ready to put his plan into action.

He’d rehearsed an embarrassing amount of times in the bathroom mirror, popped a breath mint, chugged an energy drink, and slapped himself in the face for good measure. Not necessarily in that order.

Now, in the late hours of the morning, he waited patiently for everyone to filter out before making his move, quietly cornering you in the kitchen.

You were sitting in the far corner, hunched over a steaming mug just like he knew you would be. It was something you'd been doing since he first met you, always reserving twenty minutes after breakfast to enjoy a second cup. He didn't even need to look at the contents to know that there was only a single cream, but enough sugar to make an elephant go into cardiac arrest.

That precious information would forever be saved to his hard drive.

For a long moment, he just stood there like a certified creep, admiring the familiar scene with painful longing. You hadn't noticed him yet, so your expression was still the vision of perfect bliss, eyes closed with a slight uptick to the corner of your mouth. And suddenly, he wasn't in this shitty hotel anymore. The retro kitchen transformed into a sleek modern design, the white walls melting to light blue. It was one of the few lazy mornings both of you were able to spend together, and—

"What do you think you're doing?" Your irritated voice shattered his fantasy like a pane of rose-tinted glass.

"Ah, Y/n!" His grin slotted back into place like a puzzle piece. Fuck, he hadn't even said a proper sentence to you, and you were already looking at him like he was a piece of shit someone forgot to flush down a public toilet. He had to act fast or you'd walk out again. "Funny running into you like this," he chuckled, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back. Electricity crackled between them. "Actually, I was wondering if—"

"No," you said sharply, cutting him off.

"I—What?" His grin twitched.

"Whatever it is that you're going to say, no," you snapped, turning your back to him for emphasis.

Vox went silent for a moment. Tone it down, he repeated in his head. Stick to the plan.

"Look," he started, softening his tone. "I realize that I haven't exactly been," he grimaced. "Fair to you."

You laughed bitterly. "Understatement of the decade, asshole."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, watching carefully as your shoulders tensed in surprise. "I'll stop, if that's what you want. I won't ask you out anymore or bother you with stupid, meaningless shit."

"But?" You said quietly.

"But I still want to be...friends with you," the word left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it with a smile.

He chanced a quick glance at your face, and—well you looked like you didn't really buy it, but at least you didn't look like you wanted to kill him and dispose of his body in a ditch anymore.

"Alright," you said, after a long period of skeptical silence, your eyes unreadable. "I’ll hold you to it, then."

He closed his eyes. "Please, just consider—" he froze, processing your words.

You said yes? Fuck, you said yes!

He cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. Totally. Makes sense."

He caught the briefest flash of amusement in your eyes, before you turned to bring your empty mug to the sink.

"So, uh," he started giddily. Fuck rein it in man, slow down. "What are you doing later?"

“I’m busy today,” you shut him down immediately, making him deflate at your sharp tone. Then you paused for a second, seeming to contemplate something. “Well actually,” you said lightly, making him perk up again. “There is something you can join me for, but it’s a little…out of your depth.”

“Oh really? Try me,” he smirked confidently. As if anything would stop him from finally spending time with you today.

A vindictive spark suddenly flared in your eyes, making him hesitate. "Group therapy and trust exercises," you said smugly, and a jumble of odd noises quickly glitched from his head, his screen flashing briefly to show a giant, red exclamation point. "But since you're too busy with that billion dollar company and all, I thought you wouldn't be interested," you smiled sweetly.

Oh. You conniving little shit. You had him cornered.

Looks like he wasn’t the only one doing his homework.

“How f-f-fun,” he forced out, the words literally tasting like ash on his tongue.

“It is,” you nodded genuinely, making him double take. “I actually quite enjoy it.”

Vox pressed his lips together into a fine line, dread steadily welling in his chest as he realized that yes, you were actually serious. Sweet fuck.

For a second, Vox contemplated making a strategic retreat and calling it a day. He eyed the door behind him longingly.

But no, he couldn’t afford to back down from your little game just yet. If this was how you wanted to raise the stakes, fine. Bring it on.

Before he could lose his nerve, Vox mustered up a pained smile. "Actually," he said, making you raise a brow. "I'd like to give it a shot."

"Really?" You said incredulously.

"Yeah?" His grin twitched. "Why not?"

****

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111 @lucasisstupid @lu-ferri12 @fandom-queen37 @ilunapb @skyeliteratures @shannoncosplay @da-disappointment @memospacexx @crazyforbarnes

[cassieuncaged]

Comforting Touch (Astarion x Reader)

NSFW/MATURE/18+/MDNI

Summary: You bring a new definition to a ‘good morning’ for a certain vampire spawn.

TW: explicit sexual content, oral sex (male receiving), hand jobs, language, etc.

WC: 1.7 K

A/N: Haven’t done a smutty reader insert in awhile so here ya go!

The windows are safely shuttered come morning, only the tiniest tendrils of sun sneaking through the cracks. Your shared chambers may be humble though they are rather cozy, stuffed to the brim with furs and a meager stone mantle. Astarion had pouted when you’d balked at a mansion nestled in Manor Born, telling the Grand Duke a cottage on the outskirts of the city would be preferred. Raised from elven nobility, he’d thought an opportunity had been squandered for a mere pittance. Though the vampire didn’t complain now, curled into your side as he tranced.

Organic warmth soothed him these days especially, no longer having the luxury of the sun beating down upon icy skin. Though he’d settled for the heat that his lover radiated, the moon coming to love the sun for all she offered. It was poetic, despite the pangs of frustration at losing something else. What had his last two centuries been but filled with loss?

Dashing the intrusive thought from a groggy mind, bleary eyes fell upon the prim man. One arm was slung across your torso, rising and falling with your every breath. Limp curls had bled out the rest of their pomade, laying messily atop his head and across a pallid brow. You giggled, knowing how he preferred to keep them so neat and tidy, practically styling every damned curl with his fingers. It was as frustrating as it was adorable. Now he didn’t care, nestled between your bosoms. Cold air escaped his mouth, fangs twitching as he remained blissfully unaware of the world around him.

Fingers gently muss silken curls, enjoying the locks of spun silver tickling the tips of your fingers. They were so lovely and soft, malleable as they wound around sure digits again and again. It kept you busy, refusing to move until your lover stirred. A long time had passed where Astarion had known no such comforts and hells you wanted to hoist them all upon him now. Of course there were adventures to be had, research to be done, companions to write to. But that could wait a bit longer. At least until those liquid ruby eyes fluttered open, as delicate as the wings of a butterfly.

Pads of cool fingers pressed into the fleshy curve of your thigh, flexing softly before even colder lips were pressing gently across your chest. He lingered for a moment, enjoying that steady heartbeat that ruminated beneath his touch.  A delighted chuckle vibrated against a warm plane of skin, resulting in goose flesh that spread from your scalp down to the tips of ten toes.

“Morning, darling.” He murmured between kisses peppered up to one clavicle then the hollow of your throat, “Have you been awake long?”

“Not especially,” you sighed, enjoying his ministrations as soft touches migrated from thigh to navel, drifting down to trace the curve of one hip bone, “Just enjoying you.”

“Seems to defeat the purpose when I’m lost in a trance,” he cooed before rolling onto his side. Your mouth was agape, scraping across the sight of him, skin lustrous beneath the low light, groin delicately draped with the coverlet. “There’s more fun to be had when I’m awake, my dear.”

Propping yourself on one elbow, you studied him silently as a barrage of thoughts crept through your mind. One word and you’d be a fly trapped in the spider’s web, the hare bloody and twitching in the wolf’s maw. And as much as you enjoyed submitting to him, something more appealing came to mind.

“What is it, love?” his head cocked to one side, curls lolling as he did. Gods he was lovely, and you wanted nothing more than to remind him of that. “You’ve a mischievous glint in your eyes; what’re you thinking?”

“Oh, nothing…” You inched closer until your nose practically nestled beneath his chin, lips pressing against knot bobbing in his throat. One hand pressed against the flat of a lean chest, fingers drifting down the ridges of hard muscles, “It’s just that you always take care of me. Let me take care of you.”

“That’s, erm, a very nice thought.” His voice trembles as his fingers wrap around a slender wrist, stopping the descent to the apex of muscular thighs. “But this is all still very new to me.”

“We can just lay like this,” you whisper against icy skin, nuzzling into the column of his neck, “I won’t force you into anything.”

“I didn’t say stop,” burgundy eyes roll, unseen as warm lips continue soft ministrations. Carefully, he drags your fingers to the hem of the coverlet, urging you to uncover his cock. The silken bedclothes began to tent as he slowly hardened. “I often imagine your hands on me.”

You hesitate, chewing the inside of your cheek. As much as you want to caress him, there’s a small request that hangs at the back of your throat. Eyes shutter at the thought of teeth slotting into those fading scars, feeding until warmth envelopes the icy marble of his body. How you swear it ignites a pulse within in his chest, how the veins in his cock become tight ridges along his shaft, skin dusky and warm…

“Whatever you’re thinking has you smelling absolutely delectable.” He inhales your arousal as it tickles his nostrils, filling his heightened senses. “Do tell, lover.”

“I’d like you to bite me. First.” You pull back, so your gaze can fall upon those shimmering rubies. An ashen brow arches upward at this revelation, corners of lush lips quirking upwards. “I want to feel your warmth beneath the tips of my fingers, against my tongue…

“How absolutely debauched of you,” he reaches out to stroke your hair, genuinely adoring such a suggestion despite the aching inside him. The spawn wishes he could provide such a natural warmth but appreciates your loving offer. “Let me sup from you.”

Then he curls into the curve of your neck, suckling and lapping at scars that have never healed completely, preparing you for the icy sting. You hiss at the initial insertion, the ice that shoots through your veins slowly dissipating into a thrum that invigorates as life blood is supped upon. And you feel it, the heat begins to pool beneath his skin, inviting as you finally pulled the sheet from his hips.

Astarion laps at the droplets oozing from your wound as lithe fingers drift down his length. He peels his lips away, mouth bloody as he looks upon you. Eyes drift down to see your own gaze glued to his now straining and rosy cock. Feeding upon you always stiffened him completely, leading to a pleasurable grind against your thigh while he shrouded you like a shadow.

But now, shallow breathing was parsed through gritted teeth as you finger gently traced a dusky vein from base to tip, enjoying how the blunt head was flushed and bulging. He twitched beneath such a gentle touch, enjoying how you used a fat bead of pre spend to lubricate the length of his slit. The muscles in his neck tightened at that familiar tug behind his navel, the one that demanded more. So your fingers splayed around him, enjoying how he felt like velvet wrapped around steel as you gave a firm squeeze. Slender hips thrust involuntarily, needing more friction as you suddenly removed that warm hand.

“What are you doing?” his voice came out in a strangled whimper, eyes widening as you lapped at his salty seed coating your thumb. It was still a mystery to the vampire how his body delighted you so, though he wasn’t about to complain. Awkwardly, you craned your neck upward to dribble a healthy amount of drool upon an upturned palm before slinking back to where he most needed such attention.

“Relax, my love.” You pressed a kiss to his chin before focusing on that task literally at hand. “Let me take care of you.”

And he did, savoring the rhythmic pump as your knuckle slid down his length, careful to stroke from head to base. His hips began to meet your jerks, imagining the tight heat of your cunt wrapped around him so pleasantly. Actually focusing on his own sexual pleasure was still so foreign, chasing his own release without worrying about another’s climax. Gods, it was delicious. Almost as much as the blood still staining his lips.

“On your back,” you demanded softly, removing a soaked palm to topple him onto the broad back, “I want to taste you.”

“If you do that, I’m afraid I won’t last.” His breathing was coming out in ragged pants as you slid between his spread thighs. Astarion watched with rapt attention, enjoying how your breasts swayed as you moved to lay flat on your belly.

“That’s alright,” you assured, tongue darting out to lap at the seam beneath the head. And he moaned, such glorious music cutting straight to your core. What a symphony every groan and whimper was, even as you continued to tease with short licks and kisses. “I want you to come undone in my mouth.”

“Get on with it, please.” His hips thrust upwards, tip pressing past the barrier of your lips before you complied with his wishes. Hollowing your cheeks, you sank upon all that could be fit into your mouth as a warm fist enveloped the rest. His heady musk invaded your senses, cock twitching on your tongue, practically begging you to move. “Hells below.”

Astarion’s deep bellow had been enough to spur you into a fervor, bobbing hungrily as his back arched off the mattress. Lithe fingers knotted in your hair, holding you still as he began to frantically fuck your throat. He could count on one hand how many times he’d enjoy such a pleasure over the past two centuries while he craved to lose track of how many times he absolutely lost himself in you. Pumping, striving, chasing that release while he imagined you bouncing atop him. Your blood warmed him but he felt like he was on fire.

“So good,” he muttered between ragged breathing as you struggled to breathe out of your nose. “So, so good.”

Then the dam broke as he came down your throat, twitching and spasming until he was still against your tongue. Swallowing all of the seed that was earned, you broke away and began to clean his softening length before snaking up to curl upon that delightfully broad chest.

“How do you feel?” your voice was a welcome whisper that buzzed in his ears, messy curls digging back into a down pillow as long arms cinched at the small of your back.

“Like I know what it is to feel true pleasure,” he groaned sleepily, nuzzling into your own nest of messy hair. “True love.”

“You’re drunk on ecstasy,” you giggled, eyes watching as his expression softened, any masks long melted away. “It’ll pass.”

“The feeling won’t,” he argued softly, “No, you’ve gifted me so much that I never thought I’d have. Taking care of me so sweetly. I’m eternally indebted to you, darling.”

“There’s no debtors in love,” you reminded him warmly before resting an ear above his dormant heart. “There’s only equals.”

“If this is your way of reminding me, I may need your help remembering more often.”

[satoruhour]

Loved the recent sukuna racer au 😭😭😭🩷🩷 can you elaborate a bit more on geto in the same racer au? 🥺🩷🩷🩷🩷

LLOROMANNIC

a/n: thx 4 this ask anon, this is rlly long bahaah i hope u enjoy! more context here. for recap, reader is in japan for an exchange programme.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: (fluff @ the start, smut comes in later) virginity loss, soft dom!geto, geto really really is obsessed w/ you, oral / cunnilingus (eats pussy like this! like i really don’t know what this position’s called), pet names, slight nipple play, clit stimulation, fingering, slight size kink, p -> v penetration, protected sex, n*sfw under the cut

no one really knows how the two of you became so close after that fateful meeting. they’re still wondering how you drew suguru in so effortlessly — some say you planned it, others say it was just by chance, but you’re not too sure yourself when all you can focus on is the racer beside you muttering into your skin a year after.

it was a(n almost) blissful six months when you first start out. that day he did keep his promise, winning the race without breaking a sweat and you cheer for geto unconsciously, catching the curious eyes of gojo and nanami who exchange looks — maybe you’d finally be the someone to capture geto’s heart.

geto made an effort to u-turn back to the corner he was parked in with the passenger side to you and he leans over to open it for you, but in return it just gathers more attention. “shall we go?” you try your best to escape the prying eyes of the tokyo crowd, and with a wave to the other two, geto is speeding off once you’ve gotten into the car.

“so… why’re you driving me there?”

“why cinnamoroll? berry and cherry’s a hundred times better.” he comments, and much to your dismay, he just answers your question with a less serious question than yours.

“why not?”

“well i mean…” was this man really about to lecture you on sanrio characters? his explanation is brief, but detailed, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh — although a snort still leaves you — just as he turns into the next carpark that you were supposed to go into instead and he’s asking what? like he didn’t just ramble about two sanrio demon characters. 

“eh, it’s just cute that a scary, cool racer guy like you knows so much about sanrio.” you giggle when you watch him find an empty spot, and you’re trying to not let it affect you: the dragon that wraps around his bicep right to his forearm, the tense of his muscles, the addictive line of his jaw that trails all the way down to his collarbone—

you don’t notice your choice of words until geto uses that chance to fluster you instead.

“it’s just what?” he’s all up in your personal space like he was earlier before pulling away — a quiet, chilling tension that sends your hairs standing, left arm going behind your seat to park his car perfectly in the lot. his jawline is accentuated by how he turns behind to reverse (he hopes parking effortlessly would get you to like him more); suguru’s good at always making you want more, you realise that.

“cute.”

you’re mumbling and once he’s got the car in, his arm comes back round, a teasing hand pressed up to his ear. “what was that, hm?”

and maybe you were wrong to think he was being a decent person among the sneers and mockery of the crowd earlier, and you frown, thinking if you’d really want to entertain him. there’s a dilemma in you: what if he was just like the others, the loud, cocky ones who only ever cared about their cars? suguru looked just like the part, too, and if you weren’t careful, you’d probably end up being a trophy piece for him to bring around.

you just sigh. “thank you for driving me, geto-san.” it’s rigid as you say it, an inner turmoil within you; you hope it doesn’t show.

and he immediately regrets his silly question. he doesn’t blame you for standing your ground especially after the whole spectacle before the race started, watching in defeat as you slam the door to his Mazda a little harshly. hurriedly his eyes dart around the dashboard for paper, messily scribbling down an apology together with his number, along with some cash — he did promise to treat you to something in that cafe, but he was confident you’d want nothing to do with him; for now, anyway.

“hey, i’m uh— i’m sorry. it was out of line, enjoy the event, ’kay?” geto genuinely looked sorry, a sheepish smile spreading across his face and he hurries away before you can say anything. he’s lamenting over it upon returning, talking to gojo who could barely care and nanami who’s zoning out, about how you looked so innocent and stunning by simply sitting in his car.

and you? you’ve resorted to telling yourself how you’d only send a message to the mysterious number only after getting back home, after a shower, paper creased and unintelligible at some point that you almost typed in a ‘6’ in place of an ‘8’.

you’ve broken your own rule already once you’re stepping foot into your home because your finger immediately opens the empty chat, hovering over the button to send the message you’ve drafted two hours ago. your heart pounds and you feel dizzy — you never wanted to die so bad before.

suguru’s mood remains sour until later in the evening where an unknown number texts him with a faceless photo of a cup of cinnamoroll cappuccino and a crème brûlée with cinnamorll’s face on the caramelised sugar. he knows it’s you from the outfit you wore earlier and geto can’t help but smile, dwelling on what he could say to you that wouldn’t sound stupid.

god, geto was a racer. he was supposed to be cool and a natural at flirting, but he can’t believe he’s already deleted his drafted message for a fifth time, not noticing how you fluctuate between being online and off, too.

he doesn’t answer you like an idiot because while you’re nervous over the simple text, geto wants to tear his hair out — until he gets an idea; he’s off the bed in a minute, hastily grabbing his leather jacket and putting his hair into a bun.

eventually he manages to say something that sounds nonchalant.

[19:23, geto → UNKNOWN]: enjoy your cinnamoroll coffee?

suguru waits patiently when you type and stop, and type and stop, and he uses that time to sprint to his Mazda and to speed to a close-by 7-eleven. he was sure to find some sanrio merchandise in the store, face lighting up when he comes across a mediocre cinnamoroll keychain — and after a small battle with himself he also adds a duo berry and cherry keychain to the pile — he just needed to figure out when to give it to you.

a notification interrupts his daydreams.

[19:29, UNKNOWN → geto]: better without you here

he knows you’re joking with the way you send a sticker after.

[19:30, UNKNOWN → geto]: but thank you for the treat.

and for driving me

and for the number

geto chuckles, paying and leaving the store before he lets out a breath.

[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: want to come out for a drive? i really want to apologise for earlier

and every doubt ceases to exist, your contemplation ending right there, head snapping to your clock to look at the time. if you could get dressed fast enough—

[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: and also i just… want to get to know you

i’ll meet you at that same parking lot where we met. i’ll wait for you, okay?

—you could see the mysterious, brooding racer again. despite your outburst, you couldn’t deny the adrenaline you felt sitting in his car, bickering over which character was better, seeing the raise of his eyebrow on his attractive face. you don’t trust yourself to type anything else so you simply send a thumbs up emoji, jumping up to get ready in the darkening and freezing tokyo landscape.

shouting out an excuse, you bid goodbye to your parents and race out the door, white wisps of your hot breath appearing as you reach the car park in record time, seeing him nervously leaning against his Mazda. you smile. seems like you weren’t the only fidgety one.

“how’re you doin’?” geto clears his throat, but you just grin, getting into his passenger seat. the tips of your fingers tingle, you hoped the adrenaline would help you even a little.

“you called me out because you want to show off, right?” that loosens suguru a little, letting out a laugh at your unexpected comment.

“sure did.”

the next hours are spent speeding through the streets of shibuya, with you scared out of your mind at first. but when geto looks over to you with a blinding smile, you ease into his leather seats, slowly getting used to his sharp and precise turns.

geto is focused on drifting on specific turns, smile fading into a serious expression as he slams on the break and changes gear, steering the wheel sharply and you find yourself staring freely, a smile tugging on your lips at how so damn good he looked at the moment.

the night ends up with letting you try out the car for a bit, and even geto is surprised at himself because his RX-7 was something he cherished deeply, but to let someone try it was beyond him. he’s laughing with you, telling you that drift racers do not need to use turn signals and you burn in embarrassment, but other than that you have a good time, a quietness settling as he pulls up to your host home in japan.

“come to my next race?”

you bit your lip. you can’t lie, geto suguru is handsome as hell and you’re already hooked, unaware how the other wants you just as bad.

“sure thing, suguru.” the first name seems to catch him off-guard, even more so when you lean over the stick shift to peck his cheeks. 

geto spends the next five minutes touching the skin where you kissed it, the loud rev of his engine reflecting exactly how he felt.

geto suguru was a goner.

every text, every call, every outfit (by god, geto did not care about what he wore, until he got with you) was for you. geto suguru was the gentlest with you, always asking if you’re okay with whatever he does. a hand on your waist, a peck to your cheek. he eases into the relationship, a plethora of night races lined up in his roster since he didn’t want you to miss any classes. nor could you underperform, because if your grades weren’t up to standard, you’d be sent home — your actual home back in your country. it came easy, though, apart from the sneaky makeout sessions in between geto telling you you used ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’ in your essays.

“y’know you don’t have to wear it, right?” geto laughs, placing a kiss to your temple while your mouth twists at the shape of the miniskirt, gifted to you by his sister who had worn it in the same scene, too. your boyfriend only whistles when you place it to your front, hands tightening just a little around your waist when he sees just how short it is.

“so?” you emerge from the bathroom a little while later, his oversized shirt on you looking a bit weird with the miniskirt but his breath hitches when you pull the top up, admiring the way the miniskirt hugged your figure so well. “i’m not sure if i like it, su…”

“that’s cause you’ll need other sort of tops, baby,” geto simply smiles, beckoning you over with a hand. it’s criminal how easily you follow the gesture, moving to stand between his legs. his rough hands leave hot trails of fire along your thighs, inching dangerously close to your ass. “you’ll need,” an unsatisfactory kiss on the denim of your skirt, suguru frowns, “a crop top,” a kiss to your hip bone. “or maybe a halter,” a kiss to your other hip bone, “a tube top,” a kiss to your stomach, “or maybe even a cami?” the grin geto gives you is sickening sweet as he lists them off one by one, each kiss getting closer and closer, from your hands to your shoulders, until they finally reach your face and your heart is beating like you were in fucking seven minutes in heaven.

“how’d you know so much?” you’re twiddling with the hem of his oversized shirt.

geto exhales, placing a sweet kiss onto your lips, “when you’ve been racing underground for quite a bit… it’s easy to pick up on the fashion. but—” he melts all your worries away when he takes your cheeks in his hands, “but even if you weren’t dolled up, i’ll still be lookin’ at ya. you’d still be the prettiest girl in the room.”

“my prettiest girl.” suguru mumbles, getting lost in your lips again with a promise he’ll take you shopping the next day.

you ease into the miniskirts soon enough. though you don’t exactly abandon your old style, you also love the freedom of wearing teeny skirts with skin tight tops, legs and ass on display for all to see while geto simply smiles no matter what you wear. he thinks you look stunning either way.

“what do you think?” geto asks inwardly if you were really the same person who loved cinnamoroll, legs on display and safety shorts hugging your ass so well as you twirl around in your room — geto wasn’t opposed to just panties, either; he knows he can throw a decent punch. you’re donning the piece of apparel so well that he feels himself getting hard.

“i think my baby looks gorgeous,” suguru smiles, sauntering up to you before wrapping his bigger arms around your middle before coating your face and neck with kisses but your mind’s wandering into the gutter with how you can see both your figures in the mirror. you’re thinking just what it’ll be like to fog up the mirror with your shaky breaths as geto rams into you from behind, but you snap out of it before he notices, turning around in his embrace to land a kiss to his lips.

“a good luck kiss for my racer boy,” you giggle, hands getting lost in his hair. you’ve become more bold too, geto realises and he decides that maybe tonight he’ll have you before you leave to finish your university semester and his heart clenches at the thought of you leaving — six months is six months, after all. having to resort to facetimes and timezones and late night messages is the reality, but he’s willing to try.

if it’s you, he’ll try.

one thing led to the next; it was your miniskirt riding up your legs, it was the way you ran up to him after he wins, jumping into his arms knowing these were your last few days together. just like how you were obsessed with geto suguru, he was besotted with you.

“is this okay with you, (y/n)?” the way he says your name has you wishing he would do it over and over in that pleading voice of his — it’s just the first of many.

“you’ll be taking my first, suguru.” you mumble out as his lips trail from your jaw to neck, and it makes him freeze. maybe you shouldn’t hav—

“you want me to be your first?” geto asks breathlessly, like he’s been told he won the lottery. he couldn’t believe how you’ve been untouched this whole time, yet your sultry gazes and untamed hips say otherwise.

“you’re such a little minx, teasing me and shit, but you haven’t lost your virginity?” his fingers caress your cheek and you preen at his tone, leaning into his touch. 

you hum and smile, “i never lose.” and you giggle when he laughs, capturing your lips in another kiss. the playful mood fades into the prior one, feeling the other get rougher with his kiss while his hands start to wander more.

“tell me to stop whenever and i’ll stop, okay, sweetheart?” you nod, squishing his face in your hands.

“i’ll be okay, su,” you grin before wrapping your legs around his pelvis, pulling him onto your needy cunt. he’s already hard, a dark spot forming at where his tip was. “i’ll be okay, especially when i fuck myself thinking it’s your cock.”

suguru’s jaw drops just a bit and he craves you even more by then, flipping up your skirt and pressing kisses along your thigh. he was determined to wipe the sick little grin off your face. he was determined to make you cum so hard you’d regret teasing him at all.

you hardly have any attitude for him once his tongue meets your pulsing clit and groans into your core, licking an experimental stripe up your folds. “better than your fingers?” suguru grins when he glances up and all he can see is your head thrown back, a subtle nod that’s got him back into feasting. he alternates between flicking your bud and sucking harshly, his calloused hands that you always admired around the steering wheel are now on your thighs, spreading them apart when you start to close them. by now your skirt’s soaked from how wet your pussy is, mewling and whining for your lover for more.

“you taste so fuckin’ good,” geto mumbles into your folds, giddy on the tangy sweetness of your juices that he has to reach down to squeeze his cock, “my girlfriend’s pussy tastes so good.”

“f-fuck… suguru don’t stop—” in the large bedroom, it’s filled with moans from you and the lewd sounds of your pussy, which escalate into a shriek when he’s suddenly pushing you up, weight transferred onto your shoulders and neck, not before making sure you have a pillow under you. “su—!”

“oh— ooh shit!” geto easily manhandles you as he props you up, your body bent uncomfortably while your hips continue to buck in his mouth and you aren’t sure where your legs go. it gives him better access to your cunt as he dips his tongue into your hole, nose nudging into your clit while you’re clutching onto his forearms for balance; his front supports you perfectly. geto’s onyx eyes bore into yours when he eats, moaning softly when he feels you clench around his tongue.

“you close?” he commits you to memory: how your toes curl and your stomach contracts. how your pussy flutters around his mouth and soft needy sighs turn into wanton moans. he feels so tense too, cock twitching in his underwear that it’s begging to be in you. “my baby’s g’nna cum, hm?”

“y-yes— ’m close mmf...” you can hardly manage a nod, moans escaping in between one worded sentences and you’re sure your legs are shaking from how good geto was giving it to you. with the hands that spread you out, one goes to your nipple to pinch it while the other plays with your clit, pressing and rubbing on it and a choked suguru leaves your lips.

“cum,” the one word has so much command over you, paired with the ministrations he was so skilled at that you’re clenching around air when you reach your high, euphoria crashing down on you with how you see white and your body feels tired already. “that’s my pretty girl, god, you’re cumming s’much.”

it takes awhile for you to come down from your orgasm, but despite your fatigue you already find yourself wanting more when you shoot geto a grin, heart fluttering at how he massages your thighs and bring you back down.

“you okay?” geto mumbles, pecking your knee softly, inwardly smiling at the way your legs still jolt and shake at your climax, “got my princess shakin’ and all.”

you giggle before you’re pulling him toward you, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss deepens, jumping a little when geto slips in a finger easily. you’re easily moaning into the kiss, reeling from just how one finger feels in you, slipping in so easily just how soaked your cunt was. 

gotta prep you for me, ‘kay? he whispers against your lips before a second goes in and you have to break the kiss to whimper. relax, baby, suguru’s voice is so intoxicating that you’re doing the exact opposite. you’re so tight that geto has to take a moment, imagining what you’ll feel like around him, but it’s not long before you’re begging for more that he starts moving his fingers into your cunt.

they are soft, gentle on you that you’re already tugging on his waistband, swallowing geto’s chuckle and comment about just how eager you are. in that bedroom, you’ve gotten him on his knees just by existing, pussy still drooling and your body contorted in such sensuality that he’s already worshipping you unconsciously. you gasp a little when he finally removes his underwear, eyes fixated on the pretty dick he’s got in his hand, leaking so much pre-cum just from eating you out. he makes quick work to grab a condom out from his bedside drawer.

“i’ll make it fit. gotta relax, yeah?” he hums into your skin before he rolls the condom over his cock as you watch, impatient. along with some lube, he smears your juices around with his tip, relishing in how you squeeze his forearms.

and when geto suguru sinks into you for the first time, tip nudging past your folds and stretching you out at first, a long whine leaves you just as geto groans out because you’re so warm inside that it’s got him dizzy. your eyes try to flutter close but geto mumbles that he wants to see how good he makes you feel, body hovering over yours like it’s forbidden. but he knows if he sinks into you with the feel of your tits on him, he wouldn’t last.

“s’big, suguru— ah!” eyes struggling to stay open, your arms hang around his neck, the feel of the rubber in you not entirely pleasant but suguru hitting all your spots is enough to make up for it. you’re just dripping and dripping non-stop that it leaks right down to the sheets before the other bottoms out in you, a teasing grin on his face. “told ya it could fit.” the stretch is borderline painful, and like a good boyfriend, he waits for a few to get you accustomed.

you roll your eyes with a soft smile, taking deep breaths before you feel like you could handle him, “move, please…”

“gettin' to it, my love,” geto’s cock is so big you swear you can feel him in your stomach, mouth dropping open when he moves slowly, grunting at your clamping hole, “i don’t think i can last long, baby.”

you breathlessly laugh, “yeah, me e-either.” your back arches off the bed as suguru starts to find a pace, thighs already burning from the taut pull of his muscles, something he’s done unconsciously because of how divine your cunt felt. with a hand you’re rubbing at your clit, evident it’s your first time when your hips are already bucking in mini shockwaves, sucking in his length that it’s not long before you’re moving your pelvis to meet his.

there’s the squelching noises of your pussy and little pants leaving you, pussy already convulsing around him with the release of the twist in your stomach. you’re clenching as you cum hard on his cock and it drives the other crazy, the tightness of your entrance that restricts his movement that he settles for short thrusts just to orgasm, spilling heavy loads of cum into the condom. geto groans into thin air, hips stuttering and pulling out incase there’s a rip in the rubber. it’s obvious you’re still unfamiliar with each other’s body in such an intimate setting, stuttered apologies and cleared throats, but soon geto’s leaning down to lock lips with you to quell the first-time awkwardness.

“was that okay? are you hurt anywhere?” you shake your head with a smile.

“that was more than okay, suguru,” you’re sleepy from the race, from the late night, and it’s clear all you want is sleep. it’s clear when you melt into suguru’s embrace and his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest when you find his hand to twine your fingers together, with his other one rubbing your thigh affectionately.

geto feels that same feeling paired with a certain dread when two weeks later you’re kissing him goodbye at the airport, pink luggage in hand while your nose starts to redden a little. you always know what to say, slowly getting used to geto’s habits. a huff when he’s annoyed, or a quick furrow of his eyebrows when he’s distraught. “it’s not the end of the world, baby.”

suguru only pouts, hands caressing your sides just outside the departure gate. “i know, i just— six months?” 

“you’ll survive,” you smile softly, brushing the bangs from his face, “you did it before me.”

“i know, but now that i’ve known you, you’re all i think about,” geto huffs, “i…”

there’s many more things he wants to say, how he’ll be sure to keep your things until you return, how thankful he is that you (willingly!) gave him an underwear of yours, how he struggles to breathe just seeing your name. he just hopes you’ll miss him just as much, but he restrains himself knowing your flight’s in an hour.

“you’re all i think about, too,” you mumble and swallow uncomfortably, ashamed to have tears already brimming at your eyes, “i’ll come right back after i finish the sem, alright?”

“i’ll hold you to that.” geto smiles, although it’s laced with a sadness, kissing you softly one last time and bearing himself for the countless texts and video calls to your foreign number. you both can taste the salt in your tears, sniffling like a lovesick fool at the immense feelings you have for this man.

love. you haven’t even said the words yet.

as the racer watches you pass through the departure doors, he gives one last glance to the cherry keychain hanging off your carry-on, giving a similar longing glance to the matching berry one on his bag.

geto leaves the airport before anyone can see the wetness in his eyes, too.

[mariahcarreyyy]

congrats on 2k!!! you deserve it and so so much more <3

can i request being overprotective of them in front of prospective partners with max ofc thank u very much -cait/@leclerced

# prompt no.10, being overprotective of them in front of prospective partners

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

It was embarrassing.

Watching two grown men argue over who would drive you home from the lively, neon-lit bar led to a bashful flush, warming your body amidst the crisp darkness of the night.

Only minutes prior, Max had taken one look at you and decided home was where you should be. You didn't make any protests because he's right; you wonder if you looked like a book to Max—pages crinkled, broken spines, and easily read words in his favorite font.

"I can take my fucking girlfriend home, Max," your boyfriend, Scotty, seethes through gritted teeth, an ugly vein bursting on his forehead.

Scotty evidently did not like the idea of Max driving you home for a reason you had no idea of. You and Max had been friends for years, so if even an ounce of your yearning and want was reciprocated, he would've done something by now.

That thought did little to dwindle the stubborn 'what if's from gnawing at your soul, the twinge in your heart whenever you see Max with anyone but yourself.

And also the slight guilt at thinking of another man when you have a perfectly fine one waiting at home for you each night but. Whatever.

"I swear to fucking God if you get into that car with her--"

Eyes widening, you place a calming hand on Max's shoulder and ignore the daggers your boyfriend is glaring at your touch. "Okay, how 'bout we all relax, yeah?"

Max cranes his neck to look at you, his harsh facade melting when he catches sight of the worry etched on your face. Once his heaving turned into steady breathing, your face ducking shyly to look away from his gaze, your boyfriend cleared his throat loudly.

You hastily drop your hand like the Dutch had burned you, and Max lets out a disapproving noise at the loss of your contact. Yeah, Scotty did not look impressed. The murderous glint in his eyes did nothing to quell the uncomfortable atmosphere, his jaw flexing like he's capable of murder, of tearing Max's limbs off and letting the blood spill on the pavement.

"Scotty...to be fair, you did drink, and I don't really feel like dying tonight."

A hand creeps around Max's waist, your fingertips pinching the flesh after you hear him snort. A barely concealed yelp from the driver has Scotty scrunching his nose up in distaste, nostrils flared, and betrayal painted across his face.

You should probably side with your boyfriend, but. But the cool breeze makes the tiny hairs on your arms stand up, teeth chattering; you wrap the thin, barely-there jacket Max gave you at the beginning of the night and roll your eyes, walking to Max's car.

Fondly, Max observes the impatient tapping of your foot and flush on your face—from the cold, he tells himself, not for the same reasons as himself. He raises his brows tauntingly at Scotty before advancing towards your shaky frame.

"Fuckin' bitch," Scotty mutters into the air, lips pursed into a scowl and vodka overriding his senses.

Your ears don't quite grasp the words, but Max's do. So, when the world champion's fist paves the way for the colorful hues of a bruise to bloom on the bridge of your boyfriend's nose, you can't help but choke on a gasp.

authors note. anddddd scotty makes a comeback!!!! tbf in the og fic he was actually portrayed as a good bf. max & reader r js bad ppl. now i dont have to feel bd tho cus he's terrible in this🥰

[solbaby7]

Sharing the Wealth

pairing: cassian x reader

part 5 to the shy!reader massage series

warnings: swearing, sexual themes, minors DNI, possible typos, pure self-indulgence

summary: The Lord of Bloodshed begs for the relaxation that only comes at your hands—while the High Lord watches.

[ previous part ]

--

"Don't worry, it's not mine," The first words Cassian speaks when trying to sneakily slide through the crack in your door. His hair hangs at his shoulders, swords sleuthed between his wings and you're walking over without further explanation.

He melts like butter under your touch, allowing nimble fingers to make quick work of undoing leather holsters; relieving him of all switchblades, daggers, and throwing knives. They're all lined up neatly on the little table in the middle of the room otherwise occupied by books and journals filled to the brim with your girly handwriting; letters loopy and dotted with hearts. "Who's is it?"

“You don’t want to know,” He reaches out a hand to poke your nose but stops himself, golden gaze catching on the split knuckles, dried blood crusting over sun-kissed skin and Cassian indulges in the way you dote on him. Soft tuts of your tongue, gentle hands that guide him to the couch and he’s tugging his shirt off when you disappear to the bathroom to gather supplies.

He’s got his feet propped up against the table when you get back and he chuckles at the hands at swat at them, nose scrunched up in disgust when you huff at him to at least take off his shoes first. “Sorry Angel,” You end up doing it for him and Cass takes the time to admire you on your knees for him—even if you were wearing the High Lords colors. A pretty purple, satin fabric that’s cool against your skin and the General can tell that you aren’t wearing any underwear underneath.

Cassian nearly groans at the discovery; grateful for you brushing it off as such soreness when you help ease the boots off, then his socks. “Lay down for me.”

“What? You aren’t going to help me take the pants off too?”

You scoff at him, hands swatting at his leg but he'd say it again to see the blush that fans across your cheeks. He'd say it twice more in a different language when you push him to lay down on his stomach a little more aggressive than usual; a pleasant change from the doe eyes and polite words.

Always such a lady and Cassian itched to corrupt such innocence.

"Glad to see whatever happened earlier didn't do any damage to your personality." He's acutely aware of the way you sit on his thighs, the warmth of your sex ebbing through his pants and his hands clench at his sides.

"Nope, just my back." Cass snorts, the beginnings of a sexual innuendo morphing into a drawn out groan when oil slicked hands dig deliciously into the thick muscle between his shoulders. Some spots are worse than others and your fingers loosen their grip around two bruises you find but his healing already had the edges going yellow. "You know,” He shifts under you, body jolting a little and he can feel the way you adjust your nightgown to cover more of the skin he’s dying to get his fill of. “I’ve bedded many women and none of them have ever had hands quite like yours."

A furious blush burns and the Lord of Bloodshed actually grinds his hips into the couch when you playfully tug at his hair—a habit you’d picked up on with Rhys and you don’t notice how it’s affected the man beneath you until even your fingers can’t sooth the tension in his back. “Are you implying that you’re trying to bed me?”

He doesn’t answer; it’s unusual for him to be at a loss for words and you nearly stop your ministrations until you hear the throaty groan that fills the room when your thumbs apply pressure on both sides of his spine, kneading slow circles until the knots of tension released. The oils you use this time smell different than he ones Cass are used to and briefly he thinks of Rhys—who’d been so selfish with you, stealing you away and shooing off Azriel and Cassian when they grumbled about never getting to see you anymore. Maybe these new oils were of his doing—his preference and as if he’s been summoned, the High Lord enters your room as if it’s his own. “Already occupied, bunny?” A pout settles on full lips and you let out a yelp when Cass pinches at your calf, urging you to continue.

“She is,” The brawny Illyrian is quick to insist, raising his upper body up on his elbows and a deep groan vibrates through his chest as he falls victim to your touch. “—and don’t even think about making her stop because I just got her.”

Rhysand only hums, violet irises filled with amusement as he watched you and your slick hands rubbing against skin that wasn’t his own. He makes no move to stop you, undoing a few buttons in his shirt and leaning over to untie polished shoes before settling into the softness of your sheets. It shouldn’t be so arousing, watching you be so caring to his brother; murmuring soothing words and urging him to just breathe when you got to the sore spots at the base of his wings and Rhys gets what you mean now—Cassian was vocal when your hands would run over the right spots.

He shifts deeper into the mattress, back propped up by your mountain of pillows and both arms rest behind his head; the picture of balanced arrogance. Cass makes a noise, gruff and deep, a large hand reaching back to rub at your leg. “Yeah angel, right there.” A charming smile begins to etch its way in the corner of pretty lips when Rhysand sees the blush fanning over your cheeks and as if he’s called your name out loud, your head pops up to meet his stare.

“What are you thinking about, bunny?”

The smooth voice seems to caress at your mind, flowing softly through one ear and lingering around until your rhythm faltered slightly at Cass’ shoulders. “I think I know a few people who’d be willing to come by the house to help do this for you when I’m not around,” You answer instinctively, the words directed towards the man beneath you rather than the one who’d asked in the first place and Cassian goes rigid. The High Lord only watches as you run your hands through the General’s hair, fingertips working away whatever questions he’d started overthinking about. “I’m happy to help; I only mean I’m not around as often as before and it’s not good for your body to have so many knots.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” You’re not surprised when Cass manhandles you a bit, brawny body adjusting on the couch and he sets you down so you’re straddling him, peering down with flushed cheeks and clenched thighs; unbearably aware of the compromising position and lack of clothing but he seems none the wiser. “I prefer yours though,” Cassian grabs your wrists for emphasis, touch gentle but firm when he guides your hands to his chest and settles with his eyes closed. “—and I wouldn’t have so many knots if my brother would just learn how to share.”

“Can you blame me? Look at her.”

“Trust me, I am.” His eyes weren’t even open but they didn’t need to be with the way he’d memorized the parts of you he had seen; the rest always covered in some cute cut of cloth in a varying shade of the High Lords colors—a not so subtle claiming of who you really belonged to at the end of the day.

Rhysand shifts a little, one leg crossing over the other and a smirk grows across handsome features. “Yeah? What do you say, bunny? Want to give my brother something pretty to stare at?”

Your brows raise, hands stilling as if it were some trap that you were walking into but nothing but lust lingered in violet irises. Rhys gives a comforting smile, one meant for only you and him as he mentally questions if it’s something you wanted at all. “Are you sure?”

“I trust you.” Golden light casts over his form, like a glowing god gracing mere mortals with his presence. Hard muscle tenses beneath you and you don’t even have to look down to know Rhys was in Cassian’s head; setting down ground rules and offering up as much as you were willing to give. “Both of you.”

The confirmation is all it takes for you to do as asked, obeying Rhysand’s command without a shadow of a doubt because he’d never once led you the wrong way before. Warm palms mold over your thighs as dainty fingers curl under the hem of your nightgown and Cassian’s gaze burns into the skin you expose as you lift it higher and higher and higher until it’s nothing but a satiny heap on the rug.

You squirm under the attention, the two sets of eyes trailing up and down the length of your body and Cass can’t restrain the gruff noise that escapes when you attempt to continue about the massage as if nothing was happening. “Wanted to thank you,” Slick hands glide over just chest, down his abdomen and the Commander of the Night Courts armies is reduced to an eager male bucking his hips for friction, utterly transfixed with the growing wet patch on the front of his leathers. You shush him gently, channeling your cocky High Lord and his hellish tactics when you settle Cass like a whiny child. “—for protecting me that night.”

Cassian swears your talking, he can see your lips moving but his brain can’t seem to grasp the words—hypnotized by the shape of you illuminated in such a sultry glow, doe eyes seeming to go hazy, dark pupils dilating when you walk two fingers down the fine smattering of hair that trailed beneath his bellybutton. A nail hooks in the tie of his leathers, a brow raised and a perfectly sweet smile sent his way. “Will you let me?” Hundreds of dreams playing out a million different ways this scenario could take place and he’s too caught up in choosing where to put his mouth first to even realize you’re expecting an answer. You pull your hand back, giving room for him to say no. “Cassie?”

“He’s fine, bunny,” Rhys all but purrs from his place in bed, watching with an amused smirk, a knowing look resting in violet irises. “You’re just too beautiful—give him a chance to catch his breath.”

A little degrading. Definitely sobering and the masculine rumble of Cassian’s grunt at the words has Rhysand giddy to continue pushing his buttons until he finally snapped. “Sorry sweetheart,” Cass recovers quickly, reinforcing his mental shields to keep the chuckling High Lord from distracting him from you—above him. Naked. “Anything you want.” Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, a sheepish glance at Rhys and Cass seems to catch on that there’s an underlying conversation happening that he’s not involved in. “What?”

“He said anything, bunny.” Cassian feels the tremble of your fingers at Rhysand’s teasing taunt, catches the faint blush that fans across your cheeks and the feminine smell of your arousal steadily thickens in the room. “Why not act out some of those little fantasies you told me about, hm?”

Always the instigator.

“Yeah,” Cassian’s growing confidence is palpable and he prays to the Mother above that neither of you scent the desperation—the relief that the want he felt was reciprocated. He’s more sure when he touches now, strong hands memorizing your soft curves and heavy breasts, knuckles grazing the line of your jaw as a calloused thumb stroked along your cheek. “Share the wealth, I’ve earned it.”

You melt at his words, nodding like some blubbering virgin but his hands were fucking everywhere and your bold streak subsides when Cass tweaks at pert nipples. Chuckling softly to himself when you whine, back arching and cunt digging harder into his clothed cock.

Even through the fabric you knew he was big. Big enough to have your nails scraping at his back and mouth watering from how fucking deep you knew he’d be able to go. Goosebumps rise at the mere thought of being subjected to nothing more than a cock sleeve for the mountain of a male and Cassian feeds off the way you melt into him. “Want you to fuck my mouth.”

Twin moans fill the room and you’re already shimmying your way down his thighs, ass perked up in the air and a pink tongue darts out to wet your lips as you undo the bindings of his pants. “Fuck,” The curse drawls out, inky hair splayed messily at his shoulders as he pries golden eyes open to watch the kisses you press into the cut lines of his abdomen. More slow presses of your mouth down the ‘V’ of his hips and when his thick cock springs free, Cass sighs with relief. “Such a filthy mouth for such a pretty girl.”

Too caught up in the throbbing length before you, there’s no time to notice the High Lord is no longer in your bed but behind you now. Greedy hands spread you open and it’s slightly embarrassing how fucking wet you sound. “Don’t mind me,” You can feel his breath between your thighs, cunt clenching over nothing as you lean forward and take Cass into your mouth.

“Fuck yes,” It comes out no more than a strained hiss, hands gathering you hair into a makeshift ponytail and his stomach fucking clenches when you pull back up only enough to messily offer more spit. It drips down the length of his cock, your lips chase the dribble and after he’d halfway inside you drop your hands and peer up at him. “I don’t know, sweetheart.” Cassian hesitated. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

Before you can say, he won’t; that you’d like it more than anything—Rhysand takes control of the situation, slipping past the crumbling defenses of his brothers mind and takes the reign for a moment. Long enough for Cassian’s hands to bunch tighter in your hair and buck the rest of his length down your throat. “She can take it.”

You moan pathetically in agreement to Rhysand’s words, eyes fluttering shut as you relinquished control and allowed Cass to have his fill. He’s holding back still, that much you can tell but you accept what he gives. Tongue swirling and cheeks hollowing when suckling harder, thin streams of tears curl down the curve of your cheeks from the strain but the contentment you feel from his pleasured grunts is enough to keep going. “That’s it,” He praises, thumb wiping away salty tears. “Taking me so well. So fucking good.” Two fingers push into your sopping hole and Cassian can’t hold back the particularly harsh thrust that has you gagging around him, a strangled moan following the more Rhys teased you with skilled fingers. “Gods. Fuck—do that again.”

Rhysand’s fingers curl inside, rubbing against a spot so sensitive it makes your body jolt forward, completely cutting off your airway with the thick cock abusing your throat. “Can feel you clenching around my fingers, bunny. You close?” You try to answer but nothing comes out, throat clamping down nearly as tight as you cunt and Cassian’s done for; spilling in your mouth between gravelly compliments and breathy groans. “Such a good girl.” The High Lords fingers don’t relent their steady pace between soaked folds and Cassian simply admires the way you look, chin slick with spit that drip drops down your chest. Swollen lips and damp lashes framing a gaze so fucked out it makes his cock twitch just thinking about being the reason you looked like that—all fucking night.

Rhysand sends his brother a sinister grin but his words aren’t directed towards him. “Now, turn around and let him clean up your mess.”

[bigfatbimbo]

ello its me from earlier praying to get the request of vox in lingerie to be fed because omg it would be so fun to see what happens you dont have to do this! but it would be cool to see also i love sub vox it just works dude thank you for the amazing vox headcannons and stores

I feel like for him to wear lingerie he would have to loose a bet or something. Like no doubt he’d look good, I know he’d look good, he’d know he’d look good. But for him to actually wear something like that for you, which he would consider a very submissive act, that would mean going down without a fight.

But maybe a part of him deep down would want to try that with you? He does like being submissive when it comes to you, but his pride conflicts with that interest. So, maybe making a not-so-serious bet like ‘oh the loser has to wear lingerie of the winners choosing to bed.’ and he’d have a shit eating grin because, a part of him still thinks he’s gonna win. Even if, deep down, he wouldn't mind such a vulnerable state with you, who he trusts.

However, he’s still banking on winning. The idea of shamefully wearing lingerie as a sign of loss is mearly hypothetical.

That is, of course, until you win. And god, you pick the most embarrassing, hot pink, lacey, flowery, very revealing set you could find. Oh, but he’s a man of his word, right? So he just has to do it, even if he doesn’t want to. He is not a man of his word and could make you forget this in a matter of seconds.

So, begrudgingly, he sulks towards you and onto the bed, arms crossed in a disapproving pout. But he looks so good, the way the lace hug his figure, highlighting all of his softer parts, and his hard ones as well.

He looks at you and snarls, “What? Want to rub your victory in or what?”

“No,” You say simply, crossing over to him, “You’re just so beautiful.” His eyes widen momentarily before you start kissing him, straddling him and laying him down on the mattress, kissing up his body and telling him how pretty he is.

This isn’t how he expected it to go. Should you be insulting him? Berating him with insults for loosing, or dressing like a slut. He imagines you were originally planning on doing so too so… that means that your praise must be completely heartfelt.

Oh god. He couldn’t stop the whines that erupted from his throat as you praised and marked every exposed part of him, rubbing up against his hard cock in the process.

One thing led to another, and positions were switched. He sat in your lap as you continued whispering sweet nothings in his speaker. He rode your thigh furiously, still covered by the lingerie, practically crying at the friction that wasn’t enough.

He complained for a little bit, but you only kissed his brattiness away with more praise. In all honestly, your softness was surprising yourself. He begged you to take the set off so he could really feel your thought on his dick, but you refused.

“Oh baby, I need some time to enjoy the view first.”

***NOT PROOFREAD***

[ollieolliewrld]

HSR Men in Relationships 1.5 (SFW)

Relationship headcanons for Aventurine, Gallagher, and Sunday <3

0.7k words

Aventurine

❥A relationship with him is a slow-build 

❥Everything is a game to him and he will always win

❥When he meets you he is trying to get you to join in on one of his plans 

❥He sweet-talks you and offers a big payout if you join him but you refuse

❥Usually, he would call it a loss and move on but there was something about you that he couldn’t get out of his head

❥Aventurine knew he had to try again so a few days later he came back to you with a new approach

❥When he saw you again his breath got caught in his throat, his usual cool-headedness was gone, and for the first time in forever he was nervous

❥He didn’t want you to say no to him and he did not want this to be a business interaction

❥Instead, he wanted to know your middle name and how you liked your eggs

❥Looking at you from a distance he caught himself imagining a world where you were with him laughing and holding him 

❥You approaching him pulled him out of this as he now had to face the music

❥To his surprise you had your own business offer, one he couldn’t refuse

❥Since then you two have kept a playful and loving relationship where he treasures you and places you as a priority over any level of money or ICP business

❥You are his reason for living 

Gallagher

❥This man would steal the moon for you

❥You have brought so much light and joy into his life that he wants to find a way to repay you

❥He is a very classic boyfriend, you have not opened a door for yourself since you met him, and you have been given your own supply of his clothes

❥Gallagher takes the best care of you as he views you as an extension of himself 

❥What bothers you bothers him, any issue you have no matter how big or small will be dealt with 

❥Making you as happy as possible is what he aims for and nothing makes him happier than seeing you safe 

❥He’s the type of lover that will see you upset one day and come back with a puppy/kitten

❥ADORES cuddling with you (bonus if the new pet is there too) 

❥He comes home so drained sometimes that being able to enjoy lying with your head on his chest fixes everything

❥At night you like to trace the scars on his arms

❥You have never asked where they came from but you can imagine

❥You coming into his life is the best thing that has ever happened to him, he truly could not see a world where you two were not together

Sunday

❥Life for Sunday has always been very work forward trying to keep up the family’s image at all times

❥When he started to court you he drew out clear boundaries 

❥Never would he put you at risk and you were never to be involved in the family’s business

❥While he wants to share everything with you there are too many secrets that could hurt you so he keeps them to himself

❥With everything Sunday does he looks out for your safety 

❥No matter what is going on he remembers the little things like your favorite type of tea that can only be bought at a tea shop once every season

❥Everything must be perfect and you are perfect to him, he is going to do what what needs to be done to ensure your happiness and safety

❥He does not think you are helpless but why would he ever let anything happen to his love?

❥Sunday really enjoys planning dates with you

❥Any opportunity he can get to shower you in affection he is going to take 

❥Dates with him range from casual and meaningful to highly detailed and elaborate 

❥No matter the location or activity he puts his heart into it making sure you know how he feels about you

[gffa]

Disney, hire me as your Attachment Advisor, I will shove so many George Lucas quotes at your producers and writers, I will shove so many context-laden clips from the movies and TCW at your creatives, I will make powerpoint essays about how it's more Buddhist-aligned, not Attachment Theory-aligned, I will cite literally every time attachment has ever been discussed by Lucas AND in the show itself and show you that it's always aligned with fear, possessive feelings, and selfishness, I will do this work for you for free, I can even literally just point you to my Jedi Citations collection, DISNEY, HIRE ME AS YOUR ATTACHMENT ADVISOR, I CAN HELP YOU.

Everything I saw in the show aligned perfectly with my view of what the Jedi mean by attachment from the movies (especially with Episode II). You fail to understand that George Lucas words outside of the movies mean shit. You cane have the largest collection of words that has come out of Lucas's ass and it still does not change the movies. Look at the poster for AOTC. A Jedi shall not know love. Obi-Wan speaks beautifully about the undercurrent of remorse he feels for not being able to have an attachment with Satine because he lives by the Jedi Code which forbids it.

You people are so delusional.

Hi! You are so right bestie it has been way too long since I've talked about my love for Mace Windu! You are so right to have brought this up and I will meet your challenge! He is the Force's strongest soldier because the absolute nonsense he has to put up with every day, as someone who deals with the rest of the Council being hilarious assholes, who deals with Kenobi and Skywalker's nonsense, who has Yoda as a friend, and yet he seems to genuinely like all of these people?? Even when they're bonkers?? My man is stronger than I could ever be.

Not to mention, he goes on a whole ass mission with Jar-Jar, has to watch him make out with his girlfriend, the queen of the planet who told falsehoods about your family, and you have nothing but patience and kind words to say about them, and you only roll your eyes a little at Jar-Jar's antics, something even Padme does and she's worked with him even longer than you have, and by the end, you're friends with him, you like him and would probably hang out with him again if the chance arose???? Mace Windu is on ANOTHER LEVEL from what I would have done in his position!

And he's a former theater nerd! "The Council's gain was the theater's loss." Jocasta Nu says about how he didn't have time for it anymore after he got so busy with the Council, like can you IMAGINE Mace Windu doing plays? I want to know sooooooo bad how Jedi plays are different from non-Force-sensitive people's plays, I want to know what kind of cool effects they create with the Force, I want to know if they use their psychic empath abilities to literally connect with their audience! I want to know DOES MACE WINDU HELP THE YOUNGLINGS STAGE CUTE LITTLE PLAYS IN THE CRECHE? BECAUSE I BET HE DOES.

Because that man is so good with kids! Remember that Star Wars Adventures comic where he was so gentle and sweet with the little Twi'lek girl? Reaching down to help her up, smiling openly at her, walking with her back to her village to make sure she was safe, talking with her to make sure she understood how important and valuable she was in the galaxy? Because I'm still not over that!

His relationship with Anakin in canon is pretty great, too, like, yeah, Anakin should take a seat and stop borderline pitching a fit about getting a rank he didn't earn, and Mace still offered to believe him, despite that Anakin had accepted Palpatine's forcing the Council to put him on it. He still trusted Anakin to help him in that fight against Palpatine! Plus, oh, man, their banter on the Endurance when they're teaching the cadets? That was such good-natured teasing, that was exactly the kind of banter Anakin would have had with Obi-Wan, and by the end of that whole fiasco (do you ever think about when Anakin was in danger and Mace yelled, "Anakin!" and desperately yanked him to safety, because he was worried about him? because I think about that a lot), Mace complimented Artoo by saying he saw what Anakin saw in him, that he was complimenting Anakin at the same time? Or pretty much EVERY interaction between Mace and Yoda is absolute hilarity, the side-eye they give each other, the teasing Yoda does when Mace is on a mission with Jar-Jar, the way Mace holds his hand out in the comics for Yoda to springboard off of into the middle of a fight? ICONIC FRIENDSHIP, I WOULD TAKE A WHOLE NOVEL ABOUT IT, DISNEY.

Or that time even AT THE END OF THE CLONE WARS, like they are just a MONTH out from Revenge of the Sith, if that, and Mace is STILL trying to get the droids to stand down, that he's destroyed thousands of them, none of them have listened, but he's still trying, offering them a better life away from the war, a purpose again, even if he knows it probably won't work, that man still believed in compassion for anyone and everyone. Like, baby Boba Fett TRIED TO KILL HIM and Mace STILL argued for leniency and rehabilitation, rather than jail, because he saw a young child who was hurting and he wanted better for him. He was direct with Boba, he didn't try to befriend him, Boba would never have accepted that, but he told him, you're going to have to get over your hatred for me, he says this for Boba's sake, not his own, because he knows what poison the desire for revenge is, look at the path it's already leading Boba down.

Or EVERYTHING WITH THE ZILLO BEAST, he tried so hard to rescue that poor creature, he fought the Senate so hard, he was so gentle with the hand he carefully pressed to its face, even when the Zillo beast was dangerous, even when it had attacked them and could so easily kill more, he wanted leniency for it, he wanted to save it because he understood where it was coming from.

Or EVERYTHING WITH PROSSET DIBS, that guy tried to murder him, was ranting about how he would dance on their graves or whatever, and Mace looks at him and says, we need to help him, it's our duty to help him find the light again. And his big punishment is literally just library duty, because when Mace can decide the outcome, that guy always goes for helping people, always goes for the option that would bring them back to the light.

Even as a young Padawan, his greatest struggle was to temper his anger, which was sparked because PEOPLE WERE BEING HURT by the false prophet on Mathas, he was angry because he saw how many people were suffering and the people in charge just let it happen, his heart hangs heavy when he witnesses people in pain, because Mace Windu deeply, deeply cares about the people in the galaxy.

He cared about civilians, he cared about clones, he cared about his fellow Jedi, he didn't have to be bouncy or super smiley to show that, either. It was in every action he took. He cared so much.

And, okay, yeah, he was COOL AS HELL AND WOULD HAVE BEATEN PALPATINE'S WRINKLED ASS IN A FAIR FIGHT.

OR THAT TIME ON RYLOTH THAT WAS LITTERALLY THE COOLEST SCENE THEY EVER ANIMATED, THE SOUND DROP? THE ABSOLUTE BANGER PHYSICAL STUNTS MACE WAS CAPABLE OF? GODDAMN HE WAS SO GOOD.

AND LEST WE FORGET--CUTEST BB YOUNGLING EVER!!!!

[valeriianz]

for the blossoming romance prompts, either 14 (looking at their lips while they talk), 19 (talking late into the night), and/or 27 (sharing an umbrella/coat/blanket, etc) for dreamling!!

i chose "looking at their lips while they talk" tags: human au, hard of hearing Dream, hurt/comfort

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Dream is always staring at Hob’s lips whenever he speaks.

It’s something Hob has gotten used to… or so he tries to convince himself. Dream is hard of hearing– not quite deaf, though his hearing is deteriorating. He’d met Dream like this, after his hearing loss began so, without really having to explain why, Hob was able to roll with it– with how Dream has always relied on reading lips.

It did become harder– watching Dream’s gaze drop to his mouth– once Hob realized he had developed a crush on his friend.

Nothing ever prepared him for those deeply crystalline eyes to focus on his lips, even during the most banal of conversations. Hob’s pulse would skip and jump, faltering over his words and laughing at himself sometimes. He wondered what Dream was thinking, during those moments when he would stammer and stutter over a sentence for seemingly no reason. It certainly made conversation drag on a little longer, Dream often having to ask Hob to repeat himself with a patient, almost coy smile.

Or– lord help him– if they were in a dark place like a backyard bonfire or a bar, Dream would lean in close, his face scrunching adorably as he tried to understand the conversation happening around him, and Hob would have to speak directly into Dream’s good ear, a hand cupped over it, like he was telling him a secret.

“I can’t hear a thing in this place,” Dream groused in Hob’s ear, both of them leaning against the bar and surrounded by minimal lights and thumping bass lines.

Hob leaned into Dream’s space, the man automatically turning his head to catch his voice.

“Let’s get out of here, then.” Hob’s lips brushed the shell of Dream’s ear and Hob was just drunk enough to not apologize over it, but the brief contact set his skin on fire regardless.

They soon found themselves walking along the waterfront, the temperature dropping in the cool night air and a breeze kicking up to match the waves on the water. Dream tugged on his jacket before stuffing his hands in its pockets, knocking his head back as he took a deep breath, tasting the city air. Hob watched fondly, the street lights they passed under giving Dream’s skin an orange glow, warm and inviting, and he had an easy expression on, the quiet hour giving him some reprieve.

Neither of them spoke, which Hob sometimes preferred… After knowing Dream for nearly a year now, he’d gotten used to these quiet moments, happy to just enjoy each other’s company. Hob liked that the most about Dream, how he was able to find solace and comfort in the silence, rather than feeling the need to fill it with small talk.

It’s late so there aren’t many people out among the scattered benches and picnic tables, as they are properly walking now into a rest area which usually would be bustling in the daytime. Vendors around them closed for the evening or just breaking down.

They come up to one that still looks open, a chalkboard sign boasting snacks like hot dogs and tater tots. Hob slows and points out the open and lit up stall.

“Food?”

Dream’s gaze sweeps over to the sign, his brows lifting in interest and he nods, turning with Hob as they approach the counter.

Unfortunately they no longer have food, the person behind the stall informs sadly, but they are still serving alcohol. With a sideways glance at Dream, Hob gives in and orders a night cap, and Dream follows suit.

So, here’s a funny thing. Hob watches Dream discuss their cider list with the cashier, and his eyes flick down maybe once or twice during the conversation. And, maybe it’s difficult to tell while he’s not facing Dream, but Hob could swear Dream doesn’t have his gaze affixed to other people’s lips while in conversation with them.

Hob of course has no idea how much Dream really relies on reading lips– how the whole interpretation works for him, matching lip movements to the words… but Hob could swear that he never needs to hyper focus on people’s mouths; he always seems to get along just fine without prolonged eye-to-mouth contact.

In fact, now that he is tipsy enough to overthink, Hob is certain Dream hadn’t always stared at his lips. Hob had naively always attributed that to his hearing declining… but that didn’t make sense, as again, Dream never needed to stare for very long when in conversation with literally anyone else. 

Drinks paid for, Hob and Dream walk a little out of the way of the path, finding a bench in a patch of grass and collapsing onto it with matching sighs.

Hob slowly sipped his beer and Dream, from his cider, staring out at the lit up skyline beyond the water. The windows in the skyscrapers were high and far away enough that they resembled stars, reflecting off the water too. It was pretty, Hob always preferred the city when the sun went down. 

Dream did, too. Much of their experience together was shared after hours.

Hob stares at Dream’s profile, how he can somehow still see his long lashes even in the limited light, the point of Dream’s nose, his devastating jawline that Hob has fantasized pressing his lips to, cupping it with his hand, nudging his nose along until he was in Dream’s sooty hair. He wanted to know what it felt like, to tangle his fingers in that hair, comb through it lovingly and also pull it just to hear what sounds Dream would make if he did so, exposing the line of his throat so Hob could latch his mouth onto it. 

Taking a deep breath, Hob set his drink down on the space next to him, and tapped Dream on the shoulder.

Dream turns, his expression curious and only a little faded, muddled from alcohol, though Hob swore Dream had less to drink than him.

Hob’s pulse kicks up once he realizes what he’s about to ask. He licks his lips and doesn’t miss how Dream’s eyes flit down to catch the movement.

“Why are you always staring at my mouth?”

Dream’s brows pinch, looking back up at Hob’s eyes with a patient stare.

“Because I need to?”

“No, why are you always… staring at my mouth.”

Dream doesn’t need to. Hob is certain of it. And Dream tenses up, his own lips parting silently, his gaze sweeping sideways.

After a beat, Hob panics. He hadn’t meant to put Dream on the spot, or make him feel awkward. He shifts to be just a smidge closer.

“I mean, is the way I speak difficult? Do I have some sort of lisp I’m not aware of?” Hob tries to joke, to lighten the mood, to brush off the question like it wasn’t aimed at Dream. 

Dream doesn’t even look at Hob while he speaks, continuing to stare into the middle distance, turning the tin can in his hold around and around.

Finally, Dream sighs, his shoulders going with it as he turns to bodily face Hob, planting one foot on the bench and almost curling around his bent knee pressed against his chest.

“I’m going deaf…”

A sudden lump appears in Hob’s throat at the quiet, defeated way Dream speaks, his eyes downcast, staring at his drink.

“Figured I was, obviously,” Dream takes a breath, tapping a finger on the rim of the can now. “Doctors don’t even know why. My hearing is just…” he waves a hand around his head. “... deteriorating. Fast. I’ll lose it completely in my left ear within the next five years, and then my right will surely go soon after.”

Hob swallows hard, his throat clicking at the tightness in his throat.

Dream looks up and Hob feels his eyes burn at how watery and red Dream’s usual clear, blue eyes are. 

“It sucks,” Dream proclaims with a choked off laugh, averting his gaze again. “No more music, no more podcasts… soon I won’t be able to hear the sound of my own voice…” his gaze tentatively slips back to Hob’s. “... or yours.”

Hob’s lips part, butterflies now twisting his stomach into knots.

“So I’ve been…” Dream’s eyes rove over Hob’s face, as if searching for the words. “... trying to memorize the sound of your voice.” He gives another broken laugh, his chin dipping to his chest.

“The way your lips move is unique, it helps carry your accent.” He pulls his head back up, resting it on his bent knee. “The way your tongue curls around vowels, the way you putter and stammer sometimes, it creates a profile, and I can attribute the sound of every letter to the way your mouth forms the words.”

Hob is speechless, a complicated mix of euphoria and sadness swirling around within him. 

He must take a moment too long to sit on what Dream has just admitted, because Dream’s face falls, apprehension marring his beautiful features.

“Say something,” Dream whispers, his brows going up.

Hob can’t say anything. His pulse is racing and his throat is clogged with emotion. So instead he leans forward, gets his hands– which shake slightly– on either side of Dream’s face, and kisses him.

Dream gasps loudly against Hob’s lips before kissing back, shooting electricity down Hob’s spine, all the way to his feet and back up, clinging now to Dream and pulling him closer.

Hob parts for air and kisses Dream again and again, lips-only, but he can somehow still taste the honey sweetness of him, can smell it on his breath and feel it under his touch. One of Dream’s hands knots in the front of Hob’s sweater, yanking him closer still, holding on as Hob’s lips trail up Dream’s jaw– softer than it looks– peppering kisses along the way.

Dream breathes harshly into his ear, wet and raw, tucking his head into the crook of Hob’s neck, and goes still. Hob holds him there, one hand going around the back of his head while the other finds his hand on his sweater and disentangles it to hold instead.

Hob listens as Dream breathes deeply, collecting himself, his other hand coming up around Hob’s shoulder and just… holding on.

Nothing needs to be said, though Hob’s mind is swimming with words, but he keeps them in, opting to shut his eyes and feel the warmth of Dream around him, caressing his pointy knuckles and combing his fingers through Dream’s hair. This is enough for now, holding on, knowing they have time after this.

And Hob has always enjoyed the silence they shared.

blossoming romance prompts