#because then all i would ever do is complain so much

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2 COMING SOON

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[retroellie]

Loud

Summary: After being dragged to a small town for a case, spencer found himself littering the town with his moans because he couldn't keep quiet.

A/N: I actually hate this, but i wanted to post something. Work has been killing me (literally) Anyways, miss yall <3

Warnings: NSFW, riding, dirty talk, praise, normal CM stuff

Word count: 3.9K

Spencer Reid was vocal in anything he did whether it be profiling, chess, books, statistics... you name it and he can talk your ear off about it. So this didn't come as a surprise to you when he was extremely vocal and loud in bed. He would whimper and whine until his noises were bouncing off the walls, consuming every single quiet corner. He couldn't help it, it was so hard to focus on anything when his cock was deep inside of you. It did not help that you tried your hardest to get these noises out of him, it fed the huge ego that you had developed since having sex with him.

Spencer had been shamed his entire life for how talkative and loud he was, so he assumed his loud whimpers weren't an exception. He tried so desperately to keep quiet, he would bite his lips till they bled, shove his face into your skin until it turned red, he would strain himself so hard so no noise could sneak past his lips. You hated the fact, that Spencer tried so hard to keep his noises in. You wanted him to enjoy himself, you wanted him to be comfortable with everything you were doing with and to him. You didn't want him to feel like he had to hide, ever.

To be completely honest, you had grown to enjoy his high-pitched whimpers filling the room. It was your favorite song, your favorite melody to play as you rode him into the sun. You would constantly reassure him that you loved those noises, you would even sometimes punish him if he tried to hide them. One time you even got so frustrated with his shyness that you edged him for 2 hours, teasing him with your pussy until all he could do was babble... suddenly a 187 IQ went straight down to 60.

As much as you loved his loud moans and would usually encourage them! This was neither the place nor time to be letting them flow out of his mouth freely...

A case had dragged the team all the way to a small town in Alaska, a population of less than 300 people. It was a quiet town, made on top of hunting and farming. There was only one motel, the townspeople were more than happy for you and the team stayed in it. They were actually more eager to get you checked into the motel, they had all been so tired of this person killing their loved ones.

It was a small motel, with only 4 rooms and 2 shared bathrooms between the team. You couldn't complain though, it was beautiful and quiet... quiet, something Spencer wasn't being at the moment. Something along the long trip here had gotten you excited, basically bursting at the seams as you were immediately on top of Spencer as soon as you stepped foot into the room.

Both of your clothes had been scattered around the small room floor, things knocked over from tables, the bed already looked slept in as you rode Spencer roughly. There was already so much noise that echoed through the room, between Spencer's moans, the sound of slapping skin and the headboard being rocked into the wall. You prayed that the others didn't hear, but it was a small and old motel... The walls were thin. You were going at an animalistic pace, trying to get both of you guys off in a quick round so you wouldn't disturb the rest of the motel for long and hoping it was quick enough to be able to be written off as "old cabin" sounds. You knew Spencer wouldn't last too much longer, due to his high pitched whimpering and beet red face. He started off good, his moans stayed below a whisper but his cock started grazing the spongy part deep inside you... he couldn't hold back.

"Shhh..." You shushed, putting a hand over his mouth as his eyes fluttered closed. "gotta be quiet honey... Morgan and Garcia are quite literally 5 inches away from us."

Spencer moaned into your hand, digging his nails into your thighs. He couldn't make out most of your words, his hearing going in and out as you spoke to him. He threw his head back, your hand falling from his mouth as he obeyed you and quieted his moans.

"72 inches...." Spencer huffed out, squeezing his eyes shut as his cock twitched inside of you. He was so extremely close to the edge that he could taste it.

"What?" You asked. Your words barely above a whisper as your confusion took over your mind.

Spencer let out a few more moans, gripping tightly onto your thighs they started turning red and will probably leave a bruise in the morning. Your confusion led you to slow your movements, causing a whimper from spencer to rise from his chest. He sounded whiney, almost pathetic as he pouted that your movements had slowed. Spencer squirmed underneath you, taking in a breath as he found the words to explain himself.

"Garcia and m-morgan are actually 72 inches from us..." He stuttered, moving his hips up to meet you as your confusion still filled your head.

You didn't really even want to know how he figured that out, especially since the only time you guys had been in this room is now... and Spencer didn't have enough time to scope the room before you were on him. Spencer's mind worked in mysterious ways, it was the main reason why you were riding him now. His mind was amazing to you, his knowledge of literally anything was so impressive that it felt so amazing that only you could make him a dumb, moaning mess. Spencer looked up at you as you furrowed your brows, a face that he saw often because everyone was confused about why he knew anything he knew.

"I took the square footage of the building, divided it into 4 rooms, and then..." Spencer couldn't finish because, with a swift move of your hand, you took your underwear that had been hanging off one of your ankles and showed it in his mouth to silence him.

He looked up at you with big eyes, his surprise taking over his face as you leaned down to be face to face with him. He bit down on your panties as you drove your pussy down on him, a couple of hard thrust almost pushing him over the edge.

"It doesn't matter..." You hissed, watching his eyes snap shut as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. "Either way, they can hear you... the entire cabin can hear you. Do you really want our coworker to know how much of a whiny brat you actually are?"

Spencer whimpered softly, the taste of your juices making his back arch into you and his hips thrust widely. Your dominance leaked from every pore of your body, only causing Spencer to moan louder. You were getting frustrated with him, his moans bouncing off the walls as the sound of your hips hitting his was still echoing through the cabin. However, there was a slight bit of excitement that coursed through your body. Everyone hearing how easily you can break down the boy wonder, everyone knowing that you were the only one who can reduce a 187 iq down to 0 with just one swift move of your hips.

"can't... gonna..." He tried to get his words out through your underwear that was stuffed into his mouth. He was shaking now, frustrated with his inability to speak but also your slowed movements. You chuckled softly, brushing his hair from his face before pecking his cheek.

"Gonna what?" You asked, mocking his inability to form a single sentence. "Gonna cum huh? Gonna cum in me like a good boy?"

Spencer whined softly, your praise ripping his self-control away from him. He could no longer control his loud moans or his hips snapping back into yours. You leaned back from him, sitting straight as you placed your hands on his chest. You prepared yourself to go faster, preparing yourself to push you both off that edge. You lifted yourself and then snapped your hips back down over and over again, watching as Spencer bit harder down on your underwear with each thrust. Your nails dug into his chest, your own moans escaping your mouth as you sloppily thrust into him. It took only seconds for you both to be cumming, your liquids soaking the bed beneath you.

You shoved your face into the sheets next to Spencer, moaning loudly into them as you were too embarrassed for your own moans to be heard. Your body spasmed out, not able to stop your hips from fucking yourself through your orgasm. Spencer had been doing no better than you had. He had left his body and went to cloud nine, your underwear now soaked with his drool as his body tensed. His nails were still dug so deeply into your hips, small moon-shaped crescents were becoming present now. It was a fast but lovely type of pleasure, it was there and then it wasn't.

Your body shook, hands placed into Spencer's hair as you left sloppy kisses on his neck appraisingly. Spencer was coming back into his body as you did so, each kiss sent him further down within himself until he was there and he was present with you.

"Did so good for my love..." You spoke, continuing your kisses on his neck. Spencer and neck kisses were like a puppy to a treat, his favorite way of getting praised. "Always so good for me. How'd I get so lucky huh?"

Spencer couldn't help his blush, he loved the praise and it had caused his cock to twitch once more. You rubbed his cheek softly, leaving a small little love bite down his neck. He definitely was going to scold you for that decision in the morning but as of right now, you did not care. All you cared about was the fact that you were deeply fucked for spencer, you just fucked him in a small town, with a serial killer on the loose, while your coworkers were 72 exact inches away. How fucked can someone be for another person?

"Not lucky..." Spencer whispered out, his voice raspy. Your panties had been taken out of his mouth, laying by his head as he tried to catch his breath. "Just really nice boobs." He joked.

You chuckled softly, pecking his neck one last time before sitting up. You were still straddling him, feeling as his cock was starting to get hard again. The way your sweat-drenched chest looked while on top of him had his cock standing to attention, his exhaustion soon melting away and turning to excitement. You would have loved to go a couple more rounds, fucking spencer till he cried and than passing out in his arms was one of your favorite before-bed activities. However, this was not the time or place to go multiple rounds.

You looked around the room, looking for anything in your close proximity to clean you both up with. Spencer took this time to sit up, wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place as he started to work his own soft kisses down your neck. The feeling felt heavenly, his hardening cock beginning to brush against your clit as his mouth worked wonders on your soft spots. You could feel yourself slowly start to melt into his kisses, moaning softly when he nibbled at your collar bone.

Spencer was kind of messy and dumb when he was horny, he didn't have much common sense when it came to it. All he cared about was how good it felt, how the inside of your walls would clench around him until he felt he would go crazy if he didn't cum deep within you. So as of right now, his mind was not in the place yours was. He wasn't thinking about the serial killer on the loose or your team being only inches from you, all he was thinking was you and how he wanted to be inside you once more.

If you weren't in your "FBI profiler" mode then you would have caved in the moment he started kissing your neck, but you were and you knew one round was enough for right now. You didn't want to disturb the motel more than you already had, knowing that Morgan was definitely going to be teasing the both of you in the morning. You just wanted to save you both the embarrassment of it all, even if Spencer was the one making all the noise.

"I gotta take a shower." You said simply, reaching up to grab his face in your hands. He looked up at you, eyes glossed over with lust as he looked at you like you were a goddess. That look alone was going to really make this much more hard than it already was. You left softly little kisses along his face, the only thing you could do without losing complete control over what your vagina did.

"Can I come too?" He said innocently, his lip coming to rest between his teeth.

You wanted to say yes, so desperately wanted to let him come with you. But you knew better. You knew that every time you took a shower with spencer he some how had your face shoved against the cold wall as he fucked you roughly. Spencer didn't like the germs that came with sex, so he let loose when he fucked you in the shower. It was never an innocent "I'm going to help you get clean" shower, it was always a shower that still came out dirty. You sighed softly, brushing your hand through his hair as you knew the one single word that was going to come out of your mouth was going to break his little heart.

"No." You stated simply.

"What! why?" He pouted, looking like a literal child as he did so.

You smirked softly, hoping off his lap as you made your way to your closet. You were still naked, with only a flimsy button-up over your shoulders. Spencer thought you had been teasing him, watching your thighs glisten with his cum as it dripped out of you. He wanted more, he craved more and you were completely denying him of a need. Spencer knew in the morning he was going to regret this entire decision, he wasn't dumb. He knew he would cringe at the fact he was so loud, that Morgan would probably cook him for this one. But he didn't care, all he could focus on was his now very hard cock.

"Because..." You mocked him, bending down to grab your pajama pants that somehow made their way onto the floor when you threw your bags down. You weren't worried about where they would land, you were too worried about the fastest way to get Spencer's cock in you. "Showers always end with sex and since you can't keep quiet... you will not be joining me."

You took a washrag from the desk, assuming that the motel staff put them there for your stay, and wiped his cum off the insides of your thighs. Spencer pouted some more, letting out huffs and promises that he'll be quiet and blah blah blah. You didn't hear much of it though, trying to clean yourself up as best as you could before going over to Spencer and doing the same thing. He was still pouting when you wiped your own juices off his cock, making sure to get his lower stomach as you did so.

This was definitely a punishment, it was so much fun hearing spencer begging to fuck you and get all high-pitched when he didn't get his way. When he was all cleaned up, you quietly collected your things as he listed the reason for you to let him get in the shower with him, your favorite one being "You made a mess out of me! I need to get cleaned up too!". You knew his intention was not to get clean in that shower, you knew he'd somehow end up inside of you. You were stronger-willed than him however, you begged and he would cave almost instantly but it was not the same for you. You couldn't tell if you were good at not giving in or if Spencer was bad at begging.

"You will live my love." You smirked, collecting your things in a small shower bag before making your way to him. You bent down to peck his lips softly, taking his face in your hands as you did so. "One shower without me will not kill you."

Spencer tried to make the kiss deeper, trying to make it so you just couldn't say no to the hard passionate kiss he had created. You again were much stronger than that, pulling away with a smirk as he whimpered at the loss of your lips. Spencer sighed softly, he couldn't stand your self-control sometimes. You grabbed buttoned up the long button up shirt, making your way to the door.

"There's still an unsub on the loose, so it might kill me." He pouted out, watching you walk away. You couldn't help but laugh loudly at his words, shaking your head as you did so.

"Alright well, don't die I guess." You joked back, opening the door to your hotel room. Spencer ripped the sheets over him as he was still sitting on the bed, cock out and everything. "cause then you wouldn't ever get to fuck me ever again."

You fake pouted, watching as he rolled his eyes as you mocked him. You stepped outside the room, closing the door as you did so. You swear he was going to be the death of you, his sassiness and sex drive was going to one day make it impossible for you to even utter the words "no" to him. But for tonight, you were going to take a nice hot shower without your boyfriend's cock deep inside of you... although that did sound nice.

-

You made your way down the steps to the old motel, files in your hand as Spencer followed closely behind you. There was a new break in the case, a new suspect that the town's sheriff had put together with the help of your profile. This caused hotch to call your cell phone at 4 am, telling you that you needed to be at the police station in 20 minutes. You debated on getting up this morning, wanting nothing more than to sleep off the side effects of an overwhelming orgasm. Your thighs were sore and your legs were still slightly shaking. Spencer wasn't doing any better, for he had to go to bed with a hard cock.

He woke up extremely needy this morning, but he couldn't do anything about it due to the fact you both were rushed out of your hotel room to come and once again go over the details of the profile. You found yourself being extremely irritated with the day already, you should've just caved in and let spencer fuck you... maybe this mood you were in could have been avoided if you didn't avoid the orgasm. You debated on if you and spencer could get in a quickie in before you arrived at the station, but most of the drive there was spent going over case details and you actually did care about catching this fucker.

You both arrived a bit late, the team had already begun talking about the suspect and Morgan even went in to interview him. As soon as you two had stepped foot into the room, the team had stopped what they were doing and their eyes landed on you both. Even Hotch had begun looking and if Hotch looks then you know it's bad. Spencer was completely clueless about it, he was never much for picking up on social cues, but you knew. Spencer sat down with a smile, saying "good morning" before digging right into the new case file.

"Good morning indeed, pretty boy." Morgan teased, causing the rest to snicker.

'Oh god, it's already starting' you thought to yourself, hoping that you could at least get a moment of peace before they started throwing their jokes at the two of you. You rolled your eyes, sitting down at a chair next to Spencer as you sat your stuff down on the table. You were not prepared for today, even on 3 cups of coffee you could not handle this. Spencer squinted his eyes at the team, again not really picking up on their reason for laughing.

"Did y'all sleep well?" Morgan added, hoping at least Spencer would fall right into his trap... and he did.

"Yeah, we slept as good as you could in a 60-year-old bed," Spencer said back, his statement not even an overstatement. Those beds were around 60 years old and they sounded like it when you fucked in them.

You just kept your head down, not wanting the attention on you even though it was. Spencer was lucky that he was clueless, not understanding that you are quite literally the butt of the joke. Spencer's words caused a slight reaction in them all, they all knew you did a lot more than sleeping in that 60 year old bed... they all heard it. You could tell they all could, even Rossi who was the very last door in the hall could hear you.

"I know I didn't sleep too well..." Emily added in, looking over at Morgan as she smirked softly. "I kept hearing what sounded like a grunting goat?"

There it was, Spencer's confusion turned to embarrassment as she said those words. He suddenly sunk into his chair, feeling exposed as he now knew he was the butt of the joke.

"No, it was more of an owl who hasn't gone through puberty yet." Garcia joined in, causing everyone to laugh as you and Spencer both grew red.

Hotch was even laughing softly, his eyes peeling away from the file as he looked at you both through his eyebrows. You knew this was going to be a long trip... excruciatingly long and you knew this was only the beginning of the teasing and the jokes. Morgan had now started to make high pitched moaning sounds and Garcia would do it back to him, sounding completely ridiculous but honestly pretty close to what Spencer sounded like... you couldn't hide your laugh as they did them.

"Alright, alright..." You finally said, your face now on fire as you tried to redirect their focus on the case. "I'm sorry you guys are all not getting any... but we really have to focus on the case right now." You joked back, wanting the attention off of you now.

Spencer looked over at you, silently thanking you for attempting to get them to stop. They all continued to laugh, however, laughing even harder at your words. Your embarrassment slightly dissolved as you realized how stupid this entire thing was. You felt stupid for being embarrassed at how good you fuck your boyfriend, how he wasn't able to control his moans when he was with you. Your embarrassment turned to an ego as you looked at it like that.

"Y/N is right..." Hotch joined in, looking back down at his file. "But y/n, If you and Spencer keep me up until 2 am again... you're fired." 

[rxzennia]

domestic headcanons

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)

after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?

the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff

you just need to move yourself over

he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for

it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked

when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up

but there’s so much space? 

you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like 

you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk

why do the senior managers have so much space?

but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents

because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you

so there’s your clutter for the other side

though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty

a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough

it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway

surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.

frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.

he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on

“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop

“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you

“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”

he will throw a hissy fit

“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”

will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him

you give him a flat “i will be present as well.” 

you’re so bloody infuriating

he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop

you look at him. what is he trying to do now?

“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”

normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings

but sometimes you cave and indulge him

this is one of those times

“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”

you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way

well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today

a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes

he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could

if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it

and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.

still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him

the only good thing about them, really

because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like

and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)

or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like

loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all

that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting

you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.

mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.

you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps

this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks

in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays

you show up in his room everyday at around the same time

if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there

you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side

and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before

(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)

whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going

in a very, very slurred, sleepy way

you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”

how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?

good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in

otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you

although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it

then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up

more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you

on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him

it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you

he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(

aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.

odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.

this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence

your spare scarves keep him company

imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him

he makes the connection very quickly

did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans

he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves

a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly

those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly

but they’re friendly to him because they’re you

one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh

and the others will be all around him

will slobber over him 100%

he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him

they will try to eat his hands

but, like, in a not alarming way

hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool

when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go

literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them

when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.

you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again. 

then you lower your scarf

you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore

oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea

“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric

you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss

the best part (real) 

he snuggles up against your side naturally

you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy

he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house

princess treatment

you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff

“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”

he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”

you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine” 

instantly droops like a kicked puppy

he doesn’t even try to hide it

absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking

feels like you’re back to square one all over again

“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.

you glance at him. “displeased?” 

“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”

you don’t respond 

you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off

he moves on to slapping your face lightly

“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head

surprisingly, you let him

he might also pull on your scarf

and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours

“are you ignoring me…?”

you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”

“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”

“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”

“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”

“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.

eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?

[luminiamore]

plug connie springer x black stripper reader

warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding

a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)

can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)

one down, like five more to goooo

The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.

It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.

You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.

You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.

Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.

It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.

Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.

‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’

‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’

The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.

Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.

Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.

You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.

When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.

You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.

Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!

Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.

You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar? 

Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.

He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.

A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.

Wait. Is that-

That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.

You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,

“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”

A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,

“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”

Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,

“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”

Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.

He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.

‘What kind of position are you looking for?’

‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’

He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.

“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”

Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...

Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...

“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”

And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.

The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.

You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.

And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.

Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.

Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?

You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?

He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.

“Hell no.”

Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.

Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.

His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.

Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.

You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.

At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.

Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.

And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.

And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.

It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.

One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?

You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.

“Coming!”

You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.

It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.

Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.

“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.

He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,

“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.

He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.

He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.

He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.

Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”

He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.

This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.

He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.

You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.

You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.

You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”

It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.

Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.

Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.

“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.

Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.

It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.

Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,

“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.

He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.

What do you taste like?

Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”

Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.

“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.

“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”

Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.

“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”

Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.

“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”

Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.

He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”

You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.

Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”

You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,

“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”

He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.

He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.

He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,

“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”

Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”

Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.

His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.

Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.

“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”

Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.

@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾

[miserycanary]

PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader 

synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost (pt.2)

tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst 

The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you. 

With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul. 

Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.

Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.

Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten. 

As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. “That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue. 

“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you. 

Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you. 

Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way). 

But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring. 

Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine. 

And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints. 

Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you? 

He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?

You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open! 

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[save-a-forest-ride-a-bear]

Heya!!

So I'm a little obsessed with the secret relationship trope... i was wondering if you could do an Astarion x reader secret relationship but maybe during a fight, reader dies and has to be revivified? And Astarion freaks out, like he goes semiferal and histerical?

Maybe it could be during the fight with his siblings at camp so now Cazador knows he has someone he holds dear (even if Astarion doesn't want to admit it yet) which is what they were trying to avoid?

Thank you so much!!!!

🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ All I Want ❛ ✧

Featuring: Astarion x Reader

Not proofread!

# Notes: I'm not too good with drabbles but I rly like this idea so I decided to try! also no use of "y/n" because I'll be honest I'm not a fan of it lmao

It was his idea to keep the relationship a secret.

He knew how that sounded — like he was ashamed of his partner, like he didn't want anyone to know for the sake of his reputation. That wasn't true, and he assured them of it. It was simply a precaution, something to protect them both. Now that they arrived at Baldur's Gate and are closer to Cazador than ever, he couldn't take any chances. Not when it came to them, at least.

He wasn't used to this — caring about someone other than himself. It was always about his survival, but now he had someone else to worry about. Someone whose life was worth a lot more than his own. Someone he couldn't afford to lose.

So, he kept it a secret. It wasn't exactly easy to go about their day pretending to be nothing more than companions, friends at most. Ever since they got together, he realized just how starved he was for any kind of attention, any kind of affection. Having to refrain from touching them too much or being his usual, flirty self hasn't been a simple feat. But he knew how important it was that they kept things under wraps.

His feet were killing him after a long day of adventuring, from Wyrm's Crossing all the way to the Lower City. At least they managed to avoid some confrontation for today, so he had one less thing to complain about. They got settled in an inn and he managed to sneak out for a few seconds with his partner to at least get a good night's kiss. He wanted more, but knew that would have to suffice.

The others had already fallen asleep, but he remained tossing and turning. Something felt off. He wasn't sure what, but his nerves were on end, like his fight or flight response had picked up on something he himself hadn't yet. Perhaps that was for the best, as it allowed him to notice the sound of footsteps early enough to stand up and grab a dagger. His hand shook slightly, wrapped around the handle of the weapon as two familiar faces walked in. He felt sick. He knew what they were here to do.

"Get the hells away from me!" It wasn't quite a yell, but definitely loud enough to wake the others. He instinctively took a few steps back, trying to maintain a distance far enough to deceive his brain into believing that he was somewhat safe. "Peace, brother. We're here to take you home." Aurelia uttered somewhat gently, but it almost made him puke. Brother. Home. Just the notion of it made him dizzy with disgust. The Szarr Palace wasn't his home, and these goons were not his family — he was tired of playing along with this fucked up game of pretend.

It didn't take long for a fight to break out, despite his attempts at deception. He should've known Cazador wouldn't let him off easy. Karlach was the first to react, letting out a guttural scream of rage as she charged at Violet. The axe cut through flesh before the spawn could realize what was happening, getting stuck where it met bone. She screamed, but was soon silenced by another blow. While it was supposed to be lethal, she simply vanished into a cloud of black smoke instead of dropping dead on the ground.

Leon was next, aiming for the person who was closest to where he stood which, to Astarion's despair, happened to be his darling. The spawn's claws slashed their skin open, blood splattering on the floor as they yelped in pain. Astarion didn't think — he simply acted, pouncing on Leon only to drive his dagger through his heart one, two, three times, until he too vanished into thin air. He snapped his head back in their direction just in time to see Yousen sneaking up, grabbing them from behind and sinking his teeth into their neck. The scream, the way their eyes squeezed shut in agony and their hands clawed against the spawn holding them still was enough to make Astarion see red.

He hardly remembered moving. But he did remember the screams. Not from his darling, but from his brother, as he drove the dagger into the side of his neck and twisted it. He looked back at his lover again, but the dark cloud from Yousen obscured his vision. He didn't hear screaming anymore. Only his ears ringing slightly and the sound of laboured breathing from his companions.

When he could finally see again, he almost wished he couldn't. That'd be better than the sight of his beloved's body sprawled out on the floor atop a pool of blood, their empty, cold eyes gazing into his soul. He rushed to their side despite his shaking legs, stumbling on his way there until he fell to his knees beside them. He raised their head by the back of their neck, resting it on top of his thigh. He hardly realized he was hyperventilating, hands shaking violently as he cradled one of their cheeks in his palm. "No, no... You can't die. Wake up, damn it!" He choked out, his voice rising from a whisper full of disbelief to a screech of the utmost despair.

Karlach too rushed to their side, fumbling with her bag with quivering hands. "H-Hold on, soldier, I think..." She stuttered out nervously before cutting herself off as she pulled a scroll of revivify from the bag. She knelt next to the two and placed the parchment atop the corpse's chest. It glowed a bright white light, seemingly seeping into their skin. There was a deafening silence for a few seconds when suddenly, they woke up with a loud gasp, eyes widening as life was brought back into their being.

The pale elf didn't waste a second before pulling them into a hug, not minding the blood staining his clothes. He hid his face in the crook of their neck, only a small sob and whisper being heard from him. "Oh, thank the gods... Please, please never do that again..." He choked out before pulling away from the embrace, cupping their cheek and pressing his lips against theirs. He never felt that before. That immense sense of hopelessness, agony and grief. Not to this level, not of this kind — and he'd make sure he never felt it again.

However, as he pulled away from the kiss, he saw something in the distance. Aurelia, bleeding out on the ground, watching them seconds before she too vanished into the darkness. If he still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat out of sheer terror alone. Cazador knew. He knew about his spawn's newfound love. And Astarion would have to be a fool not to expect his master to take advantage of that fact.

[amoremainslayer]

Nicely asking for things the legal line secretly loves 🙏 🙏 🙏 (example: dry humping, hair pulling,…)

Genre : Smut, drabbles

Warning : nsfw under the cut, fem reader, nsfw for gunwook (if you feel uncomfy block or scroll)

A/n : no because the way the members would do this😩😩

Jiwoong - Hair pulling

I feel like jiwoong is sooo dom coded. Like I do think he has his sub moments, but they are very rare. He just loves to spoil you, you're his pillow princess. Even if he's a little rougher with you, you never complain and you let him do his thing because you know you will feel good in the end. But if you feel a little more dominant usually and begin to pull his hair, trust me he will crumble. Just something about the pain mixed with pleasure makes him cum immediately.

Zhang hao - Dry humping

This is lowkey not even a secret thing, just something both of yall don't do that often. But if the two of you are in public and don't have the time to unclothe, the only option is to desperately hump against eachother. Just something about the frictions against his length got hao going crazy. He loves the feeling of nearly being against your skin, kind of like edging himself on touching you properly.

Hanbin - blowjob

Hanbin is service dom in person. Sex is about him giving you the best experience ever. So when you decided it was your turn to pleasure him, he just couldn't help himself but get weak. He'd literally melt into your mouth, low moans escaping his mouth while he'd thrust into your mouth accidently. Only after you reassure him its okay to fuck into your mouth for like 3 minutes, he'd finally give into his pleasures and fuck into your mouth. His hand would be entangled into your hair while his head would fall back. He's just so obsessed with you.

Matthew - 69

Just something about your pussy right above his face and your pretty little mouth spoiling his cock is the best combination for Matthew. He just loves grabbing your ass and pulling your wetness closer to his mouth while getting deep throated by you.

Taerae - Sitting on his face

Tbh it's not even something secret, but he just LOVES when you sit on his face. The way you nearly suffocate him with your weight feels like heaven to him. He'd be begging you put all your weight onto him, just you hovering over him is NOT enough for him. He'd be gripping into your thighs while lapping onto your

Ricky - Dominance

I'm a believer Ricky is a switch leaning dom. Like he just loves to make you feel good, which makes you end up being his pillow princess most of the time. But if you feel a little more dominant one night, he'd get so turned on by it. He'd be all subby, begging you to touch him. He'd enjoy it so much yall just hear me out😩

Gyuvin - Mirror sex

This might or might not be bc I wrote a fic for this gyu once but I'm a true believer he loves taking you infront of a mirror. He just loves the idea of you watching yourself get fingered through the mirror. He'd be whispering dirty nothings into your ear while his long fingers pounded into you. He'd love the way your hands grip onto his arm which was laced around your waist. I feel like he would buy a whole body length mirror, just to fuck you infront of it.

Gunwook - riding

Again, something not thar secret but it's just something gunwook LOVES to do. The way he has all the access to your neck and breasts, his hands placed on either your waist or your hips while his lips were on your neck or breasts. Just the way he could see your face distort in pleasure while you bounced on his cock left him cumming twice as fast. He'd love the intimacy with it, especially when you two have a more slow and loving sex he'd just enjoy you being so close to him (I'm such a gunwook love making enthusiast ngl😓)

[intotherumiverse]

★ ૮₍ ≧ . ≦ ₎ა 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 !!

ღ. synopsis ; one peice characters and the majors and trades they're in !

ღ. featuring ; luffy m. ; zoro r. ; sanji v. ; ussop ; robin ; nami ; chopper ; brook + bonus !

ღ. cw ; weed mention, cursing, shitposting

ღ. notes ; i haven't written in so long I forgot how to so this.... bare w me on this one !

luffy

luffy is an international relation major

all the professors love him and its defintely the only reason he's passing his classes

he has not one clue what going on (most of the time), head empty

also has really good finals grades

like its so surprising to see him pass with a low b high c average

he's really likeable, everyone and they momma wants to hang out with him

usally hanging out with sanji (bc he cooks) or zoro (caus he thinks he's cool)

he tutors with nami and robin sometimes (they're the only ones that can deal with him on the regular)

he's so silly and goofy i love him your honor

zoro

bussniess major but is never doing what he needs to do

classes? not in them. Homework? What's that? he is no where to be found and that should scare you.

he's somehow doing well in class and no one can figure out how he's doing it.

he's the captain of the fighting club (first rule of fight club? no talking about fight club) and he's good with members and running them

he hates the idea of hazing in his club and will kick you out if you try it

he has a special bond with one of the advisors given to him and he defends him like hell

he hangs around luffy bc he thinks of him as a little brother and wants to make sure he's alright

fights with sanji because he thinks its sooooo fucking funny

he's a regualar at the local bar to the point they don't even I.D him anymore they're just like "there's zoro."

sanji

definitely a food science major

he loves trying out new recipes and helping in the kitchen

sometimes when money gets low, he'll have a bake sale and they always do really fucking well

sometimes he'll take apprentenships for "fun" and so he's just racked up expirence in working in different places

his dream job is to have his own resturant where he can create his own dishes and not take any shit from anyone

also (because my sanji is a weed smoker not a cig user) will sometimes make weed pastries and they do so well when he sells them

would be outside on a smoke break but somehow never smells like weed its so crazy

would be the type of student to grumble and complain about homework but still do it anyway (he's just like me fr)

ussop

went to a shopworking trade school (his momma didn't want him to learn nothing after high school so she made him)

he found out later that he like working on different things and keeping himself busy

he also like gardening in his spare time

he's like really good at it and sometimes when his garden is too much for his family, he'll either give it to his neighbors or sell it in the farmer's market

his most frequent customer is sanji because sanji likes the freshest products avaliable

sanji askes him to hang out and try his recipes from time to time and eventually he makes friends with everyone

nami

earth sceiene major with minor in accounting

she is the the most ruthless student you'll ever meet

she don't take any shit from no one regardless of who you are, which is why she makes such a good tutor

she makes sure all her students get a good grade and because she tutors both zoro and luffy, she makes BANK

she also is the pretty girl on campus and all her friends pretty too !

hair done, lashes done, lashes done, face card don't decline, body tea !

she loves hanging out with the group but she'll never tell you that but everyone knows she cares about her people

she's lowkey scary

she isn't afriad to curse you the fuck out when you piss her off

fiercely loyal my girl nami is badddd

robin

history major with a minor in english

knows everything about everything and is one of the best tutors of the campus

she's kinda shy (mostly cause she doesn't like people but she's trying)

luffy thought she was cool and just kept bothering her until she reluctantly accepted

she's a real history buff and can debate her history like no one else

once got into it with zoro for a peice of random history

chopper

struggling medicene major

he looks stressed at all times and somehow is keeping a 4.0 gpa

luffy and zoro will come over with brusises and he just takes one look at him and sighs deeply

he helps in the nursing home with the doctors because he feels happy when people are treated

he doesn't like when people treat him or others differently so he's such a big advocate for anti discrimination against anyone

he likes helping people that most doctors would ignore and people hate him for that

he's not good at taking compliments so its funny to see him react to the compliments

he loves sweets and he loves when sanji makes them so he's always first in line at sanjis bake sale

he's so cute and small your honor

frankky

mechanic (trade school)

a literal grease monkey

he's always making something in his garage and

he makes custom peices for his friends and even sold some to some of the rich kids

besides that he's really cool about things

he's co chill about everything and help fix things whenever the crew needs it

all in all a cool dude

brook

old ass music head

he's one of the best musicains and he's so casual about it

he's a allumi for the school and he takes students every year to train them and teach them what he knows

he only takes like 5 students a year so the spots are very competative and very hard to get into

hes so chill otherwise

the type of mentor to call you out on your bullshit but still

extra little bonus scene!

the gang goes to Jinbe's resturant every week after all they're classes. Luffy had stumbled upon it one day and he just slowly started to get his friends to go their and that's just become their hangout spot since then. Jinbe pretends to hate when they come over but in all actuality, he loves talking to them and getting to know them as a group and as individuals. he loves their energy and will make sure they eat well and they're getting good grades.

no tag list for now but make sure you're supporting the people that are spending time making works for your entertainment !

@rynfiles ; @strawhatkia

[squishytenya]

semblance of touch - part three

prologue - part one - part two

pairing - bakugou x gn!reader

warnings - cursing, training fights, descriptions of pain (but not injury), mild angst, mild arguments (title from sedated by Hozier), this one's a long one guys!

The days after the conference had proven quite boring for the both of you. Since you had been hit by the quirk, you and Bakugou had been understandably banned from patrol. Effects from the girl’s quirk had proved too much of a liability to allow you two to risk your lives or health on the field. 

Stagnation wasn’t something Bakugou enjoyed. 

Something you could tell, because the man had been non-stop bitching for the past 24 hours. If he talked in his sleep, you were sure he would be complaining then too. He had exhausted all of his hobbies apparently (even though said hobbies consisted of gym work, studying and cooking - and that was being generous), and had resorted to sitting on the couch, watching your classmates go by. Not only that, he had been embellishing his people watching with foul mouthed commentary. 

You watched as his red eyes danced over where Midoriya and Ochaco were snuggled up on the loveseat opposite you two. You were sure, if you squinted, you would probably be able to see the cartoon steam bursting from his ears.

“Fucking Deku and his fucking girlfriend, do they have to do that shit in public?” he grumbled, bitterly. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“They’re not in public, they literally live here” 

“Still, get a fucking room”

You sighed, lifting yourself off of the couch. As much as the couple were slightly heavy handed on the PDA, you recognised that Katsuki was experiencing a weird off-brand cabin fever. And, to be honest, his complaining was pissing you off. 

“C’mon shithead, you need to get out of the dorms” 

You punctuated your instruction by running your fingers through his blonde locks and giving them a brisk tug. Bakugou sucked in a breath, one which you attributed to him trying to keep his anger under control.

“Kirishima!” you called for the redhead across the common room, “wanna come spar with us?”

The redhead in question immediately perked up at your suggestion. Patrols had been slow for everyone the past couple of weeks, ever since things with all for one had settled down it had mainly been low level criminals. Such criminals had proved consistently easy to deal with. Unfortunately, this also meant that it was not only Bakugou who had begun to develop that itch under his skin of wanting to do something more. 

Sero poked his head round the corner. 

“Uh, you mind if I tag along?” he questioned, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. 

Bakugou growled. A swift elbow to the ribs from you cut off his emerging protests before they had the chance to bubble over. The amount of time you had spent together had caused you to develop an effective balm to his sharp tongue, even for others. 

“Absolutely, we would love that” you smiled at the two boys in front of you. 

Sero cast an amused glance over to Kirishima, the both of them shared a small smile and nodded back to where you and Bakugou were standing. 

“Right, we need to get ready so move it or lose it, asshole” you sang and pulled your roommate along by his collar. 

— 

The training room was a welcome sight when you entered. Due to the nature of your incident, you and Bakugou had been without training for the past couple of days. The two of you rarely trained with one another, and hadn’t for the past three years of your schooling. Now that you were adults, and almost done with your education all together, you still had yet to be in a one-on-one sparring session with the loud blonde. 

Obviously, this wasn’t something you had taken much issue with, having seen the way he treats others during training. Unlike Kirishima, you didn’t have the non-metaphorical thick skin to be able to deal with those blows. There was no doubt that Katsuki was a force to be reckoned with in every aspect of his life. If you had to deal with the personal side of it because of your unfortunate situation, the training side can keep to itself as far as you were aware. 

The flow of aircon in the gym caused your loose tee to flutter around your torso as you stepped into the room. All four of you had elected for casual gym clothes rather than the more formal training uniform. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but let your gaze travel over your three companions. Sero, despite his deceptively lanky appearance, had elected for classic black gym shorts and a tank with obnoxiously wide arm holes - showing off not only his defined arms, but the lithe muscles of his torso too. Kirishima’s tight black training tee stretched over his defined arms and chest in a way that had you reminiscing of many conversations during girls night. He paired this with loose fitting red sweats that cupped his strong thighs nicely. Both of the men were impressive, and if they weren’t such good friends of yours, there’s no doubt you may have ogled longer. 

In Katsuki’s case, ogling couldn’t be helped. He had managed to wear more clothing than the other two combined, and yet show far more off. The neck of his tank was stretched obscenely wide, showing off the peaks of his collar bones and muscled chest. Muscle wraps were smoothed over his forearms, providing the stability his gauntlets would have usually provided if it was any other training session, and bright orange KT tape tangled around the muscles in his upper arms. The shorts he had on were almost sinfully short, the orange piping up the side of them shifted like silk over his wide thighs whenever he took a step. Under the shorts were a pair of compression leggings so tight they looked almost painted on. The leggings had teasing mesh cutouts on his lower thighs and in triangles up from his ankles - displaying heavily muscled calves. The tank bunched up at the waist of his shorts, which only proved to further accentuate his tapered waist that was so often on show in his hero suit. 

You gulped dryly. 

What was it that Mina had said last time you were watching the boys spar? Sluttiest thing a man can do is have a tiny little waist. Your brain helpfully supplied the quote, causing the skin of your cheeks to flush warmly. 

“Oy, why did you stop?” a gruff voice questioned.

“Oh uh sorry” you excused yourself, traipsing through the open gym door, “just thinking that’s all”

You didn’t miss the arched eyebrow you earned from Sero as you walked into the gym, he had obviously caught her staring. Their redheaded companion snickered slightly through a poorly hidden smile and you threw a dirty look his way - only furthering the man’s giggles. 

“What are you two chucklefucks laughing at?” 

You froze up, spinning on your heel to pat at your companions' clothed chest. 

“Nothing for you to worry about blondie, let’s get to training” you hurried. 

After an annoyed tut, it seemed you had convinced him good enough for you four to get on with what you actually went to the gym to do. As always, Kirishima and Bakugou paired up with each other for sparring which left you and your raven-haired friend to partner up with each other.

“They’re so well matched i’m almost jealous” Sero mused at you, both of you observing your friends immediate start into training. 

“He’ll never say it outloud, but Bakugou really does love training with him” you whispered back. 

Sero snorted. 

“Emotional walls are up so high he can’t even tell his bro he’s a good sparring partner”

“He can’t even tell Sato he likes his baking dude, just grunts like a caveman”

Sero chuckled from his stretching position, peering up at you with  humorous dark eyes. 

“He’s nice to you though”

You double took, avoiding eye contact with the man next to you. Instead, you focused on your calf stretches and tried to still your beating heart. That didn’t seem at all true in your mind. Bakugou had never particularly been nice to you. Of course, he didn’t treat you like complete shit, you were definitely higher up on his mental nice list than Todoroki and Midoriya, despite how far they had all come in terms of friendship.

“I wouldn’t say that” you muttered, “if anything these last couple of days have proved it”

“Oh really? We all saw the press conference”

You cringed at the reminder of the blunder. 

“He doesn’t talk about everyone like that”

“Please, he was pissed cause that woman insulted our hero work, he probably wouldn’t have said anything if it was just me”

Sero rolled his eyes, gracefully tumbling up off the floor. 

“If you say so” he conceded, “maybe you’ll see it the way we do someday”

You snorted, standing and pushing his shoulder away. 

“Okay Socrates, are we sparring or what?”

Within moments the two of you were at blows with one another. Both of your quirks, unlike the two men next to you, were more long-distance friendly so you had taken up the majority of the space in the gym. Sero’s tape had become all the more powerful after years of training at UA, as well as apprentice placements at agencies. Because of the range of your quirks, you two were even placed at the same agency for one of these - meaning not only were your quirks evenly matched, but your training capabilities too. 

You veered sideways, dodging a bolt of tape coming straight for you. The side of the tap had caught your lip slightly, causing a rivulet of blood to drip down your chin. 

“You’re getting rusty Hanta” you sang.

Using the spare bolt of tape to swing round and land a kick to his shoulder that sent him reeling across the floor. You landed down on the soft mat of the gym floor, pounced up on one foot and sent yourself flying through the air towards your target. The training may have been casual, and therefore not very high stakes, but Sero had been your friend since first year and you two had developed a friendly amount of competitiveness when it came to winning fights. Apparently, even playful ones. 

One of your feet came crashing down just an inch from his head, the other below his spread arm. The raven haired man looked up at you from the floor and he was obviously slightly dazed at your quick movements. Reaching down, you placed a hand on his chest and smiled up at him. 

“One, two, three” you counted, drawing out the three. 

“And he’s pinned, I win! Ding ding ding first round goes to me!”

You stood up and withdrew yourself from above your sparring partner. Said man grumbled as he watched you dance around, caught up in the glee of your victory. 

“Yeah yeah, rub it in my face why don’t you”

The tape-hero grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his sore back from where you had planted him on the ground. You beamed at him. 

“Don’t get salty cause you lost dude,” you teased, “I’m just the best, you never had a chance really”

Snickering from the other side of the gym caught both your attention. Kirishima and Bakugou had evidently taken a break from beating the shit out of one another and had apparently seen the end of the fight between you and your butt-hurt sparring partner. Which meant they had also seen the gloating and victory dance you had been performing just moments prior. 

Bakugou glanced up at you through blonde lashes. His gaze was never soft, so to say, not like the way Midoriya looks at Ochako, or even the way Kirishima looks at a good meat skewer. But there was something light and airy in there this time, akin to amusement you would say if you didn’t know any better. 

“You really let them beat you?” grumbled Katsuki to the man on the floor. 

Sero’s sputter was undignified. He waved his hands in protest, before the words actually managed to find their way out of his mouth - you interrupted. 

“What do you mean ‘let’, asshole? He didn’t let me do shit, I beat him fair and square” you huffed, squaring up to the blonde. 

He chuffed, standing up and strolled over to where you were standing. There was less than a foot between your faces now. Still, you were unphased. Defiantly, you poked a finger onto his solid chest and stood even straighter.

“Go on, if you think i’m so easy to beat,” you challenged, “you and me, sparring, right now - let’s go”

A chuff of amusement hit your face, the minty fresh breath of your future opponent did nothing to quell the butterflies in your abdomen. 

“I’ll squish you, princess, don’t even try”

You raised a brow, leaning on one hip and crossing your arms rebelliously. 

“Try me blondie” you snarked, “or are you too much of a pussy? Surely you’re not scared I might beat you”

That seemed to hit the right target. A growl emitted from the man in front of you, one that you weren’t even going to pretend wasn’t attractive. There was pretty much steam emitting from his skin at the challenge. Whoops. 

“Fine, but don’t cry when I win” 

“I’m not Sero”

“Hey!”

Said man's indignant cries of protest were ignored as you followed your challenger onto the training mat once again. Sure, Katsuki was a formidable opponent and sure, you had never actually sparred with him. But you were all best of the best for a reason. You deserved to be here just as much as he did. Plus, you knew your training was good and that you were an amazing fighter, this would be a piece of cake. 

Kirishima counted you both in but neither of you broke eye contact with the other. The soft glint from earlier had all but disappeared, replaced by the harsh determination you knew to expect from Katsuki - whether it be from the past couple of days or the last three years of being in class with him. 

Still, you tried your best to seem unphased. Katsuki was the type to find and exploit any opponent's weakness, as he had done several times in the past with actual villain encounters. And you were all too aware he wasn’t shy of using the same tactics during in-class training. 

“2-1, Go!”

Without a moment's hesitation, the blonde leapt at you from across the mat, giving you little time to dodge. You knew from training that he moved quickly but Jesus, that was a little much. There was hardly time to catch your bearings before he spun seemingly in midair and swung a crackling hand towards your face. You managed to doge again, grabbing the man's arm and using his momentum to swing him towards the training mat. 

Unfortunately for you, Bakugou grabbed the back of your tee as you pulled him over, slamming you onto the mat along with him. 

You felt the thin fabric of your t-shirt tear straight down the middle of your back, the rest of the fabric fluttering off of your body in torn rivulets. Not one to be precious, you tore the rest of the scraps off - leaving you in a tight training vest. The sweat dripping down your forehead was quickly wiped away and you steeled yourself for the incoming blow from Bakugou. 

Ever the opportunist, he had used your momentary distraction to swing his popping, crackling fist towards your stomach. Within the split second of seeing it coming, you knew there was no way you’d be able to dodge it. Instead, you tensed your stomach muscles the best you could and prepared to swing your own elbow into the side of his face. But as his fist and your elbow made impact - there was a blinding golden light that illuminated the entire gym. 

When your vision came back to you, excruciating pain emitted not only from your stomach, but also your jaw? 

The wind had been thoroughly knocked from your chest. Laying, gasping on the mat, you could only blink up as Kirishima’s concerned face popped into your field of vision. There was an attempt to communicate with him yet all you could manage was a pitiful whimper. The pain flowing through your body, pulsating from your stomach and jaw was overwhelming. Despite your excessive training having desensitised you to a lot of pain, this was unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was like molten lava was flowing from the impact spots on your stomach and jaw. Tears began to gather in the corners of your eyes. How embarrassing.

Katsuki seemed to be in a similar situation if the pained groans echoing from across the training mat were any indication. 

“Shit, Sero get Mr Aizawa, you’re quicker than I am” you heard Kiri’s concerned tone over your own heavy breathing. 

“I’ll get recovery girl too”

You were full on sobbing now, wracked breaths forcing their way out of your chest. It felt like every cell in your body was burning up at once, exploding into themselves like a collapsing star. 

“Katsuki” you whimpered, reaching towards the man across the mat. 

“Kirishima, bring him here”

Kiri looked concerned at leaving you in this state, but it was clear what you needed at that moment. For some reason, your body was yelling at you to be closer to Katsuki, even if him beating you up had resulted in this in the first place. 

Rustling could be heard across the room from you and you found yourself thanking the gods for Kirishima and his strength. The view of the redhead cradling his friend's writhing body in his arms made your heart race slightly, hoping that Bakugou wasn’t in as much pain as you were. His teeth were gritted and his eyes seemed hazy, unable to focus on anything in the room. It looked to be exactly how you felt, but he was handling it slightly better it seemed. You sniffed some of your tears back. 

Kirishima laid Bakugou next to you and you felt the pain in your body let up slightly. The tugging in your cells didn’t cease until you managed to drag yourself to curl sluggishly into the crook of the blonde’s arm. His body smelt like it always did, slightly muskier maybe but the subtle aftershave and bonfire smell stuck around through almost anything. Your body was screaming at you to make some kind of contact but you couldn’t bring yourself to move an inch. The pain radiating from your body pulsed and writhed through your muscles like scalding water, twisting your body into a painful shape on the mat. 

A muffled screech escaped from between your gritted teeth but you managed to pull yourself half on top of Bakugou. Your head hit his chest and he grunted slightly at the impact. Incessantly, the pain throbbed on through your muscles. Stupid fucking Bakugou in his stupid nun-ish exercise wear. He may as well have gone all out and worn a habit. 

You grasped weakly at the tank covering his torso, only to find your grip not strong enough to move it any considerable distance. A groan echoed above you. Katsuki had seen your struggle and was moving one of his outstretched arms to curl around your bare shoulders. 

As soon as his skin made contact with yours it was like a cooling water poured through your body, soothing the intense ache and burning it had been feeling. You were finally able to draw a proper, painless breath into your aching lungs. Never again would you take that ability for granted. The pain hadn’t yet fully left your body, still sore like an old bruise. There was no way of telling what the damage actually looked like but you were sure it wasn’t good. 

The door of the gym slammed open, your capture-weapon clad teacher marching his way towards where your two bodies collapsed on the floor. Coughing weakly, you flitted your eyes up to meet his. The older man grumbled, sitting on the floor next to the two of you. 

“Why can’t you two go five seconds without getting into trouble?”

You chuckled weakly, still under the hostage of Bakugou’s arm. The man himself grumbled underneath you in a weak attempt at protest. 

“You think we do this shit on purpose?” he snapped, half-heartedly. 

“That or a cruel trick of fate,” Aizawa muttered. 

“A solid possibility,” you groaned, “but i’d rather it not be that”

The ensuing argument was interrupted by the arrival of recovery girl and a very out-of-breath Sero. The small woman pursed her lips at the two of you. Obviously, you were a sight to behold - a tangled pile of limbs and fabric breathing heavily on a training mat. It still felt like all of the energy had been zapped out of you, even if the pain was lessening more and more by the second. The tear tracks on your cheeks had dried out by now and were uncomfortable crusty on your face. You would definitely need a shower after this. 

“There’s nothing I can do here” 

Katsuki’s arm tensed around you and you could feel the snarl bubbling up his chest from where your head was laid. 

“What do you mean there’s noth-”

“You’re not injured” she stated, quite promptly, “there is nothing physically wrong with you for me to heal”

“Recovery girl” began Kirishima, “what happened then?”

It was clear seeing two of their close friends in pain had shook Kirishima and Sero up slightly. The taller man was leaning into Kirishima’s hold, gnawing at his lip. Kirishima, meanwhile, had wrapped one of his strong arms around Sero’s shoulders and was rubbing his hand up and down his arm comfortingly. You reached up to pat at Hanta’s leg, the closest attempt at comfort you could scrounge from your fatigued body. 

“Despite their quirk incident earlier this week, these two thought it would be smart to try and train with each other,” recovery girl explained. 

She sounded sick of your shit. Not that you blamed her. 

“And in doing that, they caused a quirk reaction”

You groaned. The explanation seemed so simple when it was laid out in front of you like that but it hadn’t even occurred to you not to spar Katsuki. The quirks' effects weren’t exactly wearing off, but the ache in your wrist where the girl had grabbed you had disappeared completely as you two had been staying close enough to one another. You supposed it was odd to forget about it but you only wanted to get back to training. 

“And in doing so, have shortened the distance allowed between them” 

“Oh my god” you groaned, thumping your head down onto the mat this time. 

“This would never have happened if you didn’t get so cocky,” Bakugou complained. 

You shot him a look as best you could from face down on the mat. 

“If you weren’t such a prick, I wouldn’t have responded like that in the first place, would I?” 

Aizawa leaned forward and pinched both of your ears. 

“Stop whining, you’re both at fault. Now go back to the dorms”

Both of you huffed like children being scolded by a nursery teacher. With Aizawa, it still felt like that sometimes, despite the fact you were now all technically pro heroes. Still, you rolled out from under Katsuki’s arm and tried your best to stand. 

In doing so, you leaned too far away from him and your wrist started flaring with the familiar burning sensation. You hissed and gripped the appendage, bringing it and yourself closer to Bakugou. 

You looked at your wrist in disbelief. 

“That was barely three feet” you whispered, meeting eyes with recovery girl. 

She tutted. 

“You made your own bed dear, time to lie in it”

taglist - @yizhoutv @champagnetvstes @lexmarine @shadowsingers-redhood @h0nestly-though @bby-chloe1999

sorry this one took so long! I was doing uni exams but I should be pretty much free (apart from work maybe) for the rest of the summer soooo! comment or send me an ask if you want on the taglist for the semblance series

I've also completed the first chapter of Kirishima's section of the choose your own path series so lmk if you want to be tagged in that! replies and reblogs are much appreciated muah >3<

[asimpforyagami]

propmts 1, 5, 6, 7, 8 for kolya please

(if it's a bit much you can excluee 5)

↷ A/N ─ its never too much nonnie :) ilyy ty for sending these reqs!

★ PROMPT ─ 1, 5, 6, 7, 8

!! FT. ─ nikolai

─ wearing his clothes

Nikolai had known for ages that you had your eyes on his clothes. The way you droned about how your date outfits looked so bland and probably needed the addition of boots, how you complained about cold hands wanting to wear gloves, how you put on his hat and sent him pictures captioned "It looks better on me."

Especially with Halloween just around the corner, and you suggesting you two switch outfits for the day, it became all the more obvious.

"But, dove," Nikolai whined. "My suit is a part of me."

"No," you giggled. "I'm the clown of the couple tonight."

"Well, I must say that's a very cute clown. Clowns are supposed to be scary, right?"

"You're not scary."

"You're right," he said. "I'm not scary. I'm completely bonkers!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

─ kissing

"Ah, it's good to be back," Nikolai stretched his arms.

"What do you mean? You were right here," you said.

Nikolai gasped. "How vile of you! To overlook my struggle from the hall to the kitchen, all to get you a refill of the popcorn."

"You could've just used your ability."

"Doveeeeee," he whined, and you sighed. Of course, now that he has said that he's been away, he will not stop until he gets what he wants from you.

"Fine," you roll your eyes, and Nikolai immediately uses his fingers to press your cheeks together in a pout, giggling before pressing a long kiss on your lips.

You close your eyes and he releases your cheeks, your lips still in the duck faced pout. A few seconds passed like that. Then, Nikolai pulled away and stared at you before tackling you on the couch and kissing all over your face. His hat fell somewhere on the ground as he tickled your stomach, your face red with laughter and overwhelmed by the love he was showering you with.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

─ cuddling

"Dove-"

"Shh," you shushed him and Nikolai immediately fell quiet.

You had put one of your legs on his, trapping him with both your arms around his torso, interlocking behind his back. This was probably the first time Nikolai had reluctantly agreed to be the little spoon.

'Reluctantly' because of the reasoning that he did not like being "trapped'. He claimed that he was a 'free bird' and desired 'eternal freedom'.

Nikolai sighed. Sure, the feeling of you practically choking him with your face buried in his neck was different. He felt numb, staring ahead of you as you hugged him.

Thinking... Thinking about you. How you had changed him so much. How he felt much, much more free than he ever was when he was with you. How a hug and a kiss would make him forget all his problems, all that bound him to the world.

He thought and thought. About how if this was any other person he would be ashamed at being trapped by their body this way. About how surreal your warm breath felt against his neck. About how if this was the 'worst case scenario', he was completely okay with it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

─ reading to him

"And the little Swallow asked the Prince, ''Why are you weeping then?'," you recited, book on your lap as Nikolai stared at you with interest.

He was never one to read stories. He'd rather they be read to him, which led to this moment, with you lying on the one-seat sofa and him on the longer couch, propped up on his elbows and feet dangling along your words.

"What did the Prince say then?" he asked excitedly, and you turned the page before continuing the story.

Funny, he thought, how you always managed to get books and stories that he likes. Or maybe, as his bi-colour eyes turned glossy with admiration for your beauty, it was only because you were the one reading them that he enjoyed them so much.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

─ nightmare

You shook Nikolai awake. He had been twitching and shaking in his sleep, breathing hitching when he woke up with a gasp.

"You okay? What's wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"Nothing," he replied too quickly, eyes still hazy.

"You're lying," you said firmly, propping yourself up on one shoulder and pressing a hand on his chest. "I can feel your heartbeat."

"I'm okay, dove," he said again. "Why are you awake at this hour?"

"Kolya, please be honest with me."

Nikolai sighed. He wanted to say that it was nothing, that he wasn't gonna let a stupid nightmare dictate his emotions. But perhaps he could use this as an opportunity for himself?

"Hold me?" he suggested instead.

You narrowed your eyes, but complied anyway. You pressed a kiss against his forehead, and Nikolai couldn't help but think that whatever the dream had been, he was glad that you were there for him always.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[reduxulousoctopus]

X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).

I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.

Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.

--

“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.

Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”

No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.

Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.

When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”

Morph winces.

“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”

“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”

From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”

“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”

“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”

“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”

The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”

“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”

To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.

Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.

Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.

How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?

Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.

“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.

He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.

“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”

Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.

“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”

Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”

“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”

That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.

“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”

Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.

“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”

The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.

“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”

Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”

“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”

“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.

“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”

“Who else knows?”

“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”

At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.

“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.

Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.

“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.

Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.

“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”

Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.

He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.

Badum-tch.

Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.

Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.

Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?

“Morph. Look at me.”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.

“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”

From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.

It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.

Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.

One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.

The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?

Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.

Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.

If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.

Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.

The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.

But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.

He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”

As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.

“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”

Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…

He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.

That’s real enough for him.

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

Can you make some sad libby headcanons? I swear all your other sad headcanons made me cry😭

sad libby head canons

YES! libby is literally the fucking best and she's so underrated. trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal thoughts/attempts, eating disorders, and sexual assault. hope you like them <3.

she used to apologize to her mother after she would hit her (in tig she says her mother used to hit her when she was stressed)

she's been self-harming since she was like 12. she used the blade in her pencil sharpener and cut the tops of her thighs (you can't see them even when she wears shorts)

drake convinced her that him SAing her was out of love, and that he knew she 'wanted' it so she should stop complaining. she'd be the one who ended up apologizing to him after he'd assault her

in high school, because of how tough things were at home, she used to do drugs (she had this really bad group of friends that sort of influenced her) (she didn't get addicted to the drugs though, if was more of a once in a while thing when she couldn't handle her life anymore)

at some point, her mom was doing really badly financially, and they were forced to move into a smaller one bedroom apartment. libby thought her mom deserved the bed bc she worked so hard so she slept on the floor.

she's so used to people hitting her that it doesn't even hurt anymore. when someone does, she sort of dissociates in order to not feel anything.

her mom used to tell her she was overweight (she was literally underweight, her mom was just jealous). libby then developed an eating disorder (bulimia)

the ED was sort of an on and off thing for her. every once in a while, she'd get the idea in her head that she was overweight and ugly and should do smth about it, but, then, avery or one of her friends would help her get better.

the reason she's drawn to men like drake is bc it's the only thing she's familiar with. her mom was a piece of shit too, so for her its what's normal/what she deserves (this is less of a head canon and more psychology but eh)

she'll do anything anyone asks of her. she can't say no even if it makes her uncomfortable/she doesn't have the time/doesn't like that person.

she sometimes gets so mad at the world that she punches walls until her bones almost break.

she hates getting mad at people bc she reminds herself of her mother.

she's terrified of becoming a mother (even though she wants to be one) bc she's convinced herself that she'll be like her mom, if not worse.

her mom used to get mad at her for ricky (her father) leaving. so much so that libby started blaming herself for it

drake used to tell libby that if she didn't let him have his way with her, he'd hurt avery. libby, of course, didn't want that so she would let him do awful things to her.

she hates taking baths bc drake used to waterboard her (if you don't know what that is, search it up)

when libby used to do things her mom didn't approve of/like (mistakes all children make and learn from like spilling a glass of milk), she would deny libby basic needs like food, water, a bed to sleep in etc.

idk if this one will make sense (it makes sense to me but idk), but libby dyes her hair a new color very often bc its a way for her to start anew. like lets say she breaks up with drake again and she hates herself for getting back together with him in the first place, she dyes her hair a new color to signify the beginning of a new era.

she will literally break her back to please people/be the person they want her to be. if they think she talks to much, she'll stop talking, etc (people's opinions of her matter a lot to her)

tw prob one of the darkest hcs i've ever written: libby ended up in the hospital once bc she slit her wrists trying to off herself. this happened right before she took avery in. the doctors didn't think she'd make it.

she'd considered offing herself multiple times before and after the last hc, but she doesn't bc just the thought of it makes her feel guilty. she doesn't want people to cry over her bc she thinks she doesn't deserve their tears, and she doesn't want to leave people she wants to help

she insists everyone get therapy but herself bc, to her, other people matter more

the only thing that brought her comfort as a child was this stuffed bunny. she used to press it to her wounds bc it would dull the pain (this might not make sense but whenever i get hurt (cause im ass clumsy bitch), putting pressure on the wound dulls the pain). she also found comfort in how soft it was.

drake threw that bunny away cause he thought it was worthless. libby told nash about this and he searched the entire fucking country until he found that damn stuffed bunny (idk how he did but he's a hawthorne so...)

when she has panic attacks, she'll either be very silent/still in a corner or she'll be clawing/pulling at anything around her (including herself)

she didn't do well in school not bc she wasn't smart but bc the students and teachers were so creepy towards her (would harass her constantly) that she felt uncomfortable even stepping into the school

absolutely hates it when drunk people interact with her/get too close to her bc whenever drake got drunk, he'd hit her

hannah's death hit her hard too. they were actually much closer than people thought they were. hannah helped her through a lot of shitty things that happened in her life. she would visit her grave every once in a while to tell her she wished she was still here bc her life (and avery's) was absolutely shit without her. she would breakdown in the middle of the graveyard every time

whenever she felt like hurting herself but didn't have a blade nearby, she would dig her fingernails into the already existing wounds to make them bleed again.

drake once beat her up so bad she ended up in the hospital with brain swelling and a fractured arm. the swelling in her brain was so bad they didn't know if she'd make it out alive.

here's a happy libby head canon to (hopefully) make it all better:

she used to be this supervisor at a daycare when she was younger (that's probably not even a thing but lets pretend it is). the kid would make her drawings all of the time with hearts and proposals and stuff. she loved the kids so much, she would hug every single one of them and bake them cupcakes. they were literally her best friends, and some of them still send her messages through their mom/dad (she would befriend their parents and give them her number/email)

not proof read bc i'm a lazy ass bitch. i say this in every post, but pls talk to someone if you need help (if there's no one in your life you can talk to, contact a helpline). sending lots of love to everyone <3.

[whump-mania]

Dialogue Lines: Whumpee/Whumper/Caretaker Variations

(TWs: torture, cursing, collars, implied murder, drugging, nightmares)

~~~

Whumpee

Classic Whumpee Lines

1. “Touch me and it’s fucking over for you.”

2. “Please, please, I-I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to mess up, please don’t hurt me!”

3. “What’s the point of trying? I’m never getting out of here.”

4. “I-It hurts…it h-hurts so bad…why won’t it g-go away…?”

5. “Keep me chained up here all you want. You’re never gonna hear shit from me, buddy.”

~

Whumpee turned Caretaker

1. “Hey, I know, I know how much it hurts. Just breathe. Think of something else. That’s what helped me.”

2. “They got you too? That bastard. I’m so sorry.”

3. “Yes, I do! I do fucking understand, because I lived it! Now let me help you!”

4. “I didn’t get someone to help me through this when I was there. I want to be that person for you.”

5. “You remind me of myself…back then. Before they broke me.”

~

Whumpee turned Whumper

1. “Payback, bitch.”

2. “No. You don’t get to complain. Don’t you remember the rules against speaking out?”

3. “This collar…oh yeah, you remember it, huh? You always liked it on the tightest setting, didn’t you? Let’s start with that.”

4. “Back then, before you, I always thought every person deserved mercy. But no. You’re not even a person.”

5. “Wait, you’re crying? Come on, Whumper, are you kidding?! It took you weeks to make me cry for the first time, and you’re giving up on the first day?”

~~~

Caretaker

Classic Caretaker Lines

1. “This is gonna hurt. It’ll be over soon.”

2. “You think a little nightmare’s gonna hurt you? Nah. I’m here now. I’ll fight it off.”

3. “Just let them down for a second—Let me at least give them some water, it’s been almost two days!”

4. “I don’t know how you were even able to go through something like that…you’re stronger than I’ll ever be.”

5. “Come on, get up. Fresh bandage time—no, I don’t have to clean them today. That’s tomorrow.”

~

Caretaker turned Whumpee

1. “How…h-how did Whumpee do this?”

2. “Anything. I’ll be anything you fucking want me to be—just let them go.”

3. “Sorry, friend, I’m not gonna break as easily as they did. Bummer.”

4. “Wait, y-you didn’t…you didn’t tell me you did this to them…no, k-keep that away from me!”

5. “Whumpee, when they hurt me, just look away. Please.”

~

Caretaker turned Whumper

1. “Who else could have slipped those drugs into your food? Come on now, think a little quicker than that, Whumpee.”

2. “It feels kinda wrong, but…when you’d have nightmares, I…I kinda liked to listen.”

3. “I’m sick of taking care of everyone all the damn time. Well, guess what? Now you have no one.”

4. “Yeah, I’ve got them where you want them. They think they’re safe, but they won’t know what hit them.”

5. “Crazy how I used to patch these scars up…now, I get to make more.”

~~~

Whumper

Classic Whumper Lines

1. “Good morning. Come on, get up. I have so much planned for you today.”

2. “You’re so cute when you try to fight back. It’s like you’re not even trying.”

3. “Aw, you had a nightmare? Was it about me? I hope it was about me.”

4. “Don’t try and be a fucking actor. You and I both know you’re terrified.”

5. “Found you.”

~

Whumper turned Whumpee

1. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I did, just…p-please, have mercy…”

2. “That all you’ve got? I used to hit you three times as hard.”

3. “No. I’m not apologizing. No matter how much you torture me. I regret nothing.”

4. “H-Hey, come on, we can be friends, right? You know I didn’t really mean all those things…h-hey, wait, get away from me!”

5. “No…maybe I deserve this. Maybe this is what I’m getting in return for all the things I did to you.”

~

Whumper turned Caretaker

1. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s just me! …Oh.”

2. “The nightmare…it was about me, wasn’t it?”

3. “I know you can’t ever forgive me…but let me at least do this one thing for you.”

4. “Okay, okay, yes, I did make that scar, but I’m the only one who knows how to make it better, so would you stop moving?!”

5. “Fuck, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

[sageistrii]

So like I said if nothing has changed with Jimin's next album, then I'll have to accept that certain members which includes him are happy with where they are and with one member being favoured. And if that's the case then I don't see why I should be be bothered about something he isn't bothered about.

I think one thing we have to remember now more that ever is that whether Jimin (or any of the others) is bothered or not by these things or has even tried to address them, there is likely very little he could do about it. Regardless of whatever influence or power people expect the members to have within the company, we are now very clear on the extent HYBE can go to to attack a person if they don’t do as asked.

While we have to accept that the truth of this situation lies somewhere between Min Heejin’s and Hybe’s statements, I do think that Min Heejin gave us a LOT of info about the dynamics at Hybe. All of this is happening to her because of a history of disagreements (whether justified or not). She didn’t act the way they wanted her to, she complained about unfair requests of theirs and they wanted to put her in her place. This was just the moment for them to find actual ammunition against her because she decided to poke around and mess with ILLIT (and bruise Bang PD’s ego).

So if they can do this much damage to a top executive/creative who spearheads one of the company’s most successful groups because of disagreements (and big egos), why would they not do this to one of their idols? Again, I do not think that BTS members have even a fraction of the influence everyone expects them to have within that company which, just like this Min Heejin situation, sets a very concerning precedent.

You're right and that is exactly my point. If the members themselves can't make a change probably because they don't feel too strongly enough about it to make that change then why should I care?. If Jimin and the others feel like their situation was unbearable then they would cry out right? Or at least push hybe to give them something better. But while their current situation might not be the best, they seem to not care enough to change it so why should I be worried on Jimin's behalf?

The support will always be there, but like i said I will not be advocating for anything if we have a repeat of face era. I will enjoy the music and ignore every other thing. No essays, no screaming at hybe, nothing. There's a lot of mental and emotional energy being invested into doing these things and running a blog like this. During face and especially set me free pt2's release I was at the forefront telling everyone it's going to be ok and Jimin's debut will be one for the books, regardless of how weird things seemed at the time, and it was but I was actually affected by the whole thing. I always felt anxious and I couldn't eat (I'm not joking), because it seemed like as much as I tried to remain optimistic everything seemed to be going wrong at every turn. Sorry but I don't ever want to go through that again. I will just have to accept everything as is... for now at least, because I know if Jimin doesn't get what he deserves this year he would still get it eventually, his solo career isn't coming to an end and he is destined to be known as more than just "Jimin from BTS".

But this time, I don't think I have it in me to be as emotionally invested as I was with face. I will be here but I don't know how many more "Hybe hates Jimin" and "he's being sabotaged" posts I have left in me.

But regardless of hybe not doing their job,he is still going to do extremely well, that's for sure. But the thing is face also did well, that didn't stop the chaos.

[gorouenjoyer]

-Differences-

 We’re not too different 

A fanfic mildly inspired by kamiverse’s tfl

(half cannon universe half modern au)

Themes - Romance, angst, smut, betrayal

Pairings - Gorou×reader, Lyney×reader, Neuvillette×reader, Zhongli×reader, Albedo×reader, Scaramouche×reader, Tartaglia×reader

Warnings- virgin!reader, Lyney is kinda a slut?-college!Lyney, college!Lynette, college!reader, collage!furina

Smut will be next chapter I promise<3

Opposites attract right?

We’re really different. Lyney and I have been friends since FOREVER, he was an orphan who was adopted and raised by this figure he calls “father” from what I’ve heard father is a fatui harbinger who was apparently a fellow Fontainian 

We met because I saw Lyney on the street one day doing some fun magic tricks. He wasn't very well dressed so I’d thought that I would talk to him, maybe even help him out if he needed food as my family was well off enough to donate to charity.

Lyney seemed harsh at first glance, it turns out that day his twin sister Lynette got taken away by aristocrats. So that day I made a promise to be by his side forever and make sure nothing bad ever happens to him or his sister ever again!

I lost contract with Lyney after that and during that time he got adopted by “father” and my mom lost her high paying job for a “undisclosed” reason

Now we’re both in our early 20s and in college, all three of us are studying at “La institution de fontaine éducationnel” or IFÉ. Lyney is studying acting as he’s trying to perform at “la opera epiclese” at some point while Lynette is studying engineering as she is hoping to help her brother cut costs by doing repairs herself. 

Lyney has always been extroverted and quite charming so Lynette is always complaining to you about how her brother has another girlfriend or boyfriend which you always respond to with complaining about how you're always single. 

One day however you’re complaining to Lyney himself about being single while he visits your dorm which leads to an interesting conversation about a way to potentially solve that…

“What? You’re still single with your looks?” Lyney asks while leaning on the wall“WAIT! Does that mean you’re a virgin?” he taunts with a big dumb smirk glued on his face

“W-well uhm- Y'know what? That’s a really weird and uhm, invasive? YEAH invasive question to ask a female friend” you manage to stutter out with as much confidence as possible in this situation

Lyney laughs and offers you a bet, “If you end up sleeping with 5 men by the end of the summer I’ll offer you 200k, but the catch is that you aren’t allowed to fall in love with them. You have to sleep with 5 men, no strings attached” you stare at him  with  confusion while wondering how serious he is but then Lyney adds with a smile “Y’know what for every man after the 5th I’ll add another 50k” 

Lyney extends his hand forward for a handshake “deal?” you think for a moment wondering if this is really worth it. You don’t have enough money to finish your course and with 200K+ you’ll have enough to finish your last 2 years of university, maybe even enough to spoil yourself a bit with new clothing and makeup. 

The only problem was the time frame, you’ll only have 4 months for 5 guys? Surely I can’t do that right? I haven’t slept with a single guy for what? 20 something years?  How can I sleep with 5 in such a short timeframe?

After a lot of consideration you decide to take up his offer so you reach out your hand, but suddenly in a random act of courage or stupidity you add “I’ll accept your offer but on one condition, you’ll be the first guy” Lyney looks taken aback? Confused? Uncertain? No idea, but what you can notice is the light reddining of his cheeks.

“What? Are you repulsed by the idea Lyney? How rude” you questioned in a jokey tone

Lyney’s eyes widened in shock “No no, not AT ALL. I was just surprised you asked in such a uncharacteristically bold manner” he exclaims in mild panic

“So when do you want this to happen?” he asks awkwardly

“Oh uhm.. Sooner the better I think but probably not tonight? You respond while fiddling your thumbs “Maybe in a few days? Y’know what I’ll message you!” you decide 

After Lyney quickly and awkwardly leaves you message your best friend and roomie, Furina

10:48PM

-reader-: GIRLY YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT JUST HAPPENED

-Furina-: Did your lonely ass finally get a boyfriend?

-reader-: BETTER THAN THAT

-Furina-: WHAT? REALLY? DID YOU WIN THE LOTTERY?

-reader-: Ok just combine the last two ideas

-Furina-: YOUR ASS GOT A SUGAR DADDY??? HOW OLD???

-reader-: TF NO? 

-Furina-: I give up ;-;

-reader-: LYNEY SAID HE’LL GIVE ME 200K TO SLEEP WITH 5 MEN BEFORE THE SUMMER

-Furina-: WHAT?? ARE YOU GONNA DO IT???

-reader-: YEAH PROBABLY AND ON TOP OF THAT HE SAID HE’LL BE THE FIRST ONE :333

-Furina-: NO WAYYYYY SERIOUSLY? HE’S ACTUALLY SO FINE? I’M JEALOUS GIRL-

-reader-: You have a boyfriend who’s house you’re at right. now. HOW ARE YOU JEALOUS?

-Furina-: Uhm we don’t talk about thatttt, ANYWAYS GTG LOVE YOU POOKIE GL

-reader-: BYEEEEE<3333

You put down your phone for the night and decide to get ready for bed but while your trying to sleep all you can think of is what transpired today

When you wake up it’s already kind of late but your roommate isn’t back yet so you text her

11:17AM

-reader-: Hey wanna meet up at that cafe down the street later? Maybe at 12:30 if that’s good with you?

11:52

-Furina-: GIRL- I'M SO SORRY I SLEPT IN

-Furina-: 12:30 works BUT ALSO I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU WHEN WE GET THERE

-reader-: OMG OK SEE YOU >:3

A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG >W< I really wanted to get the pacing right for this fic cause I feel like I rush things

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille