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#but I definitely understand not falling in love with it right away
rosicheeks · 11 months
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So I watched the first episodes or so of Adventure Time. Is there I guess....a um...breathrough episode that makes you like fall in love with it?
I just looked through them and not going to lie the first season is definitely not my favorite. The first season is where you meet a lot of the characters and see the universe. They are mainly super random and silly.
The first episode of season 2 is pretty good you get to learn more about Marceline and her dad.
S3 Ep9 - first fionna and cake episode (again not my favorite episodes but they are important to know who they are if you want to watch fionna and cake (the series) in the future)
S3 E26 - you get to meet flame princess for the first time 🥰🫶🫶🫶🫶
S4 E26 - The Lich - this is where the story part comes in and it gets GOOOOOOD. There are a few episodes before this that have some story I think but it’s very light if I remember right. This is where things kinda turn in adventure time in my opinion
S5 Ep1 - you get to meet Prismo!!! More story! Good shit
#ok ok ok#so I think if you want to get hooked on adventure time I would start watching from season 4 episode 26#I know I know it sounds like a big jump but like I said I think the first few seasons are mainly just introducing the characters#kinda seeing where everyone lives and their personalities#there are some story episodes in the earlier seasons but I don’t think anything important#it’s one of those shows where usually you can just watch and instantly know what’s going on#you don’t have to watch them in order buuut once you get to the story part it’s better to watch in order just in case#it’s hard to explain cause most of them are Willy nilly and silly but after the end of season 4 you have more chance to get to story#and THEN season 7 is where you get to go into the depths of the characters and their backstories#all of the episodes are 10ish minutes but then season 7 and beyond have multiple parts to some of them#so like the first one is all about Marceline and it has 8 parts#I think that’s all I wanted to say????#but I definitely understand not falling in love with it right away#it was just a thrown on show for awhile until I got to the story story and I was like OH?????? OK I SEE YOU#feel like I wanted to say more but here you gooooo#I think if you wanted to start S4 E26 and get into the story and then if you fall in love with it you can always go back#and watch the beginning seasons#but I definitely don’t think you need to watch the first few seasons to understand what’s going on later#and if you watch the end of season 4 and the beginning of season 5 and it’s still not your jam that’s alright!#I’m sure it’s not for everyone#ask
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2hoothoots · 29 days
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Revisiting P2 since the docu epilogue dropped and your AMV (<3) popped up as a sign for me to ask something that hopefully you haven't already spoken about years ago: What did you think of the in-game psych explanation for Maligula, that she's the primitive savage part of the mind? P2 is a weird mix of sketchy Freud/Jung concepts that Tim likes meshed with modern psych, and Maligula's deal seems like something they probably wrote a lot of different versions of but never quite solved elegantly
yeah, i think you totally hit the nail on the head - it's always felt like one of the parts of the story that they couldn't quite give enough polish to before they had to finalize it and move on with development. like - i went to go get my artbook to see if it had any insight into the writing process, and did you know that Nona and Maligula being the same person was apparently added way later in development? that's wild! i didn't know that until literally right now! i may or may not have skipped straight to my favourite characters when my artbook arrived and then put it on my shelf without reading the whole thing
ANYWAY, retrospectively i think it being a twist that was added later actually makes a lot of sense in the context of everything you mentioned. the Maligula problem, to me, is the fact that they're trying to juggle a bunch of different things that she has to be in the story. there's Maligula, the ruthless big bad, and Nona, the beloved grandma, and if you suddenly have to also make them both the same person... well, it ends up being kind of a thorny writing problem to make that work, haha.
here's some art i made so this isn't just a wall of text, rest of the answer under the cut
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i think one thing they could have done when they needed to rehabilitate a mass-murderer into a lovable old lady was pull back on either end of the spectrum. make your villain softer and more sympathetic, or give grandma a mean streak like she's one bad day away from a tragedy at the crochet club. and to give the story credit, i'm really glad they didn't. Nona is relentlessly sweet and endearing - and that's great! she needs to be in order to make the audience care about her, otherwise the emotional beats are never going to land. likewise, Maligula is a great villain, she's vicious and ruthless and at the culmination of her arc we see she simply does not give a shit about murdering hundreds of people. i love that for her, honestly, you go girl
but then, like - how do you connect the dots? how do you frame grandma having a violently murderous streak in a way that doesn't make the ending of "but she's over it now" feel kinda weird and hollow? and how do you do that while also being sympathetic to the game's themes around mental health? Maligula's informed by the traumatic things that happened to Lucrecia during the war, but she can't just be a manifestation of trauma, because the moral of the story being that trauma makes you a mass-murderer (until you beat up your trauma and shove it in a giant pit) would feel... really tonally dissonant!
so i think you're totally right that the sprinkling of pop-psych concepts we get ends up feeling a little bit like an awkward band-aid. Maligula's story is about how the horrors of war can shape you into a terrible person, who does terrible things - ...but there's also, like, special circumstances, so it doesn't feel weird that she goes back to being Raz's sweet grandma afterwards. special psychic circumstances! she's not just any war criminal, she's the fight or flight response gone out of control!
which - i dunno, i think that line in particular always stood out to me, because that's not really what the fight or flight (or freeze or fawn) response is, right? it's a temporary boost of adrenaline to the system to rev you up for getting out of a dangerous situation. an overactive fight or flight response is called chronic stress and anxiety. i know the games are pop-psych and not actual science, but it always stood out to me as a little awkward.
if it were me in the writer's seat - with the benefit of all the time in the world to workshop it, and no looming deadlines, and the hindsight of having a full completed game in front of me to think about - i might have tried to frame it around connection. i think you could swing the lens to instead focus on how violence, stress, trauma etc., make it harder to understand and empathise with the people around you. the tragedy of Lucrecia's story is that she came home to try and help her countrymen, the people she cared so dearly about. but the more time passed, the less she cared, the less she was able to see them as people. after Marona's death, the Maligula that remains is one who's unable to even care about killing her own sister. the alternative is too raw, too painful - instead, she sheds her last vestiges of remorse, and throws herself into the easy relief of violence. (we see this again, when Nona "awakens" as Maligula - when confronted with the baggage of her past, she chooses to wash it all away with force, unable and unwilling to care about the people she used to call friends.)
and i think shifting the focus like that ties it in thematically, too. a big theme (of both games, but especially the sequel) is how important connection is, how being able to understand and reach out to and rely on other people is a lifeline during hard times. PN2 touches on how there aren't really "good people" and "bad people" - everyone has the capacity to do wonderful or terrible things, and i think Raz's line to Maligula about how "everybody's got something like you" works. Lucrecia was never a monster, no matter how everyone tried to pretend she was. she was just a person, the same as everyone else - and just like everyone else, she could be pushed to extremes under the right circumstances. it just feels kind of odd when the implicit context is "everybody's got a mass-murderer hidden in the primal recesses of their brain", hahaha.
but like, again, that's the privilege of hindsight, right? i've definitely also been on the other side of the creative process, stuck with something i suddenly need to make work in a story and having to come up with a solution that feels like a band-aid. sometimes you just gotta call it good enough, and move on. and i think the game is overall much stronger for having Nona and Maligula be the same person - it plays into the wider themes, it sets up some great emotional beats, and i think it's overall well-executed, even if there are one or two hiccups in the writing.
anyway, great ask! thank you for the invitation to ramble, this is something that stuck out to me on my first playthrough of the game and it was fun to sit down and get my thoughts in order
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imaginarianisms · 2 months
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🖤 (from desmond!!)
attractiveness:
repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.
personality:
grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive (when necessary in order to protect her as her sworn sword) / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.
how likely they would have sex with them:
not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now (the Pain of being married & being a queen & wanting to be a good role model for your children & ur sworn sword is a kingsguard) / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.
level of friendship:
never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.
first impression of them:
i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.
current impression of them:
i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.
send 🖤 and my character will answer about yours; specify. || ALWAYS ACCEPTING.
#answered.#sevynhells#oh g-d what if i kms#dynamic; helaena & desmond.#she's c.aed- & d.emi so like. her falling in love w/ & especially wanting to be sexually intimate w/ sb is. Very hard for her to do#SHES LIKE!!!!! SO CAREFREE YET SO RESTRAINED AROUND HIM. LIKE. THAT MAN IS HER ROCK.#like ...... he & vaenna are the first people she calls for after aegon right after b&c happened#like. she HATES how he blames himself bc literally none of this was ever his fault#like. he left his homeland in dorne in the tor to SERVE AS A KINGSGUARD BUT EVEN MORE THAN THAT TO SERVE /HER/#he devoted himself to her in a way she's never seen w/ her father towards alicent. she NEVER feels unwanted or unappreciated around him EVE#he laughs at her her jokes even when she missed the punchline or gets it wrong. he never makes her feel like a madwoman like so many ppl do#like even if he doesn't understand she never once felt like he was ever judging her. that man will track her down like a BLOODHOUND#like i genuinely believe that helaena prayed CONSTANTLY for someone like him to come around & the gods gave her him#i genuinely wouldnt be surprised bc of how close they are that aegon would've noticed that & been like jealous about it bc he's possessive#but like. she represses these desires bc like. she's MARRIED & she's the QUEEN & she has children she wants to be a good role model for#& not to mention during helaena's entire marriage to aegon she was still loyal to him despite everything bc she wants her children spared#she literally wears gold after sunfyre & has a golden sun wedding ring & so when b&c happens that's just. taken away from her.#& then there's Also her dynamic w/ vaenna her childhood best friend & her whole conflicted sapphic feelings surrounding her#& honestly she feels ashamed for having those desires at all & not to mention he's a kingsguard member so if they did anything he could DIE#& like. she cares about him & i'd say loves him & she doesnt want him to get hurt. so like its. extremely difficult for her#so yeah helaena is. Very Conflicted around him but she genuinely loves & desires that man w/ all her heart.#if anything its probably more likely in a post dance survival au that she'd Say Something About It#but like. there's definitely subtle hints thrown here & there that she tries Not to let show but you can cut thru that tension like a KNIFE#iTS SO HEARTBREAKING MAN
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spencerreidenjoyer · 3 months
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addicted to you | spencer reid x reader
Spencer isn’t inclined to be affectionate with you. He’s a socially awkward germaphobe, and you’re perfectly fine with it. However, being three months into your relationship, you can’t help but want more. Once Spencer gets a taste, he wants more too. A lot more.
part 1 | part 2 - insatiable
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wc: 6.1k, rating: explicit/18+
tags/warnings: established relationship, first times, virgin!spencer, early seasons spencer, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering praise kink, morning wood, morning sex, sex in unconventional places (like, not in public but not the bed lol), cunnilingus, creampie, implied multiple orgasms
a/n: no excuse for this insane fic but i was strangely inspired by a post i saw on twitter that i wanted to put a lighthearted (and horny) spin on. i definitely felt crazy writing this and i feel crazy posting this now so i sure hope you enjoy this insanity! (p.s you can also find this fic on ao3!)
You don’t mind that Spencer isn’t touchy. You understand, with Spencer being a germaphobe and a little socially awkward, that he isn’t inclined to kisses on the cheek or holding your hand. You’ve only been dating for three months, and he’s already getting better at doing these things, which makes your heart sing. 
Spencer is sweet, willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. He used to shy away from your touch, but he’s gotten more comfortable with you. He lets you hold his hand when you’re out on a date, or he’ll kiss you chastely out in public. He lets you drape yourself over him when you’re sitting on the couch together watching a show, his arm around your waist to pull you in close. 
While you can understand Spencer’s hesitance towards public displays of affection, due to his awkwardness and anxieties about germs, you’re surprised he hasn’t initiated anything more in the privacy of his apartment (or yours). You’re starting to itch for it, something more, your attraction to Spencer Reid simply too overwhelming for it to simply be sweet and innocent anymore. Your body craves him desperately, because he’s so lovely and so fucking handsome. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands more than once.
Tonight, you decide you’ll get what you want. You’re going to fuck Spencer Reid.
With your head buried in his shoulder during movie night, your hand runs down his body, getting dangerously close to his crotch – he jumps up off the couch, almost comedic, and stares at you like your touch had burned him. He looks positively freaked out. 
“Spencer,” you say, very confused that he’s not into this. What kind of man doesn’t like his girlfriend initiating sex? Hell, what kind of man doesn’t like sex? 
“I just–” Spencer pauses, like he’s struggling to find the words. “I can’t. Not right now, I–”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You assure him. “We don’t have to. Ever, if that’s what you want.”
His eyes widen again. “No! I want to, just– It’s difficult, right now.”
You cock your head slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Spencer frowns slightly, seeming to know that talking about it is the most rational thing to do, but it’s not like that makes him want to do it. “Well, I– I’ve never done it before.”
Your mouth falls open, just a little, and you look up at him. While you don’t mean to judge, it certainly isn’t surprising. Spencer was fourteen when he was starting university, and his general awkward demeanour and extreme nerdiness would likely rule out any sexual encounters for him during his time in college. Spencer’s line of work would clearly make it difficult for him to maintain a relationship – you definitely lucked out with getting to date him – and he’s too much of a softie for one night stands. So, Spencer Reid being a virgin at twenty-seven definitely checks out.
“That’s okay,” you say softly. “It’s totally normal.”
Spencer’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, you know it took me a while to get used to being affectionate with you, so I think–”
“Being intimate with someone else is going to be a hurdle you’ll need time to cross, too?” 
Spencer looks up at you, eyes wet, looking at you like you’ve read him like an open book. He whispers, “Yeah.”
“That’s okay,” you repeat, even though you’re trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to fuck Spencer Reid tonight. “I’ll– We’ll take it slow, if you want to try.”
“Yes, please.” He has a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. “I– We could try doing something tonight, too. I just– I wasn’t expecting it earlier. I’m sorry for pushing you off like that.”
You shake your head, reassuring him that you aren’t offended by it by any means. Then, you ask, “You’re sure you want to try? Tonight?”
Spencer nods, as he reaches for your hand. He holds it gently, resting it on his thigh. “Yeah. I haven’t– It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, but I want to, with you.”
You lean in to kiss his cheek gently. “I’m glad you trust me.”
His eyes are soft and syrupy when he meets your gaze. “Of course I trust you.”
You squeeze Spencer’s thigh before pressing your lips to his, the familiarity of kissing Spencer making you both ease up a little more. Your kiss is gentle, sweet, just like every other kiss you've shared, but you let your hand slide up his thigh as you kiss him, and you can feel Spencer tensing up under your touch. You squeeze his thigh to reassure him, and you feel Spencer wriggle underneath where you're leaning your body weight on him to loosen up. 
Your hand skirts over his crotch, a hardness under your palm that makes you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Spencer’s breathing is heavy as he keeps kissing you, and keeps letting you touch him. You think he’s so cute. You just want to make him feel good. 
You push the waistband of his sweats down, tugging him out of his pants. His cock is the same shade of red as his cheeks, his shyness turning you on extremely. 
He doesn’t look down at himself, where you’re holding him – instead, his eyes are intently focused on your face. You don’t push him about it, instead leaning forward to kiss him as you start to stroke his cock. 
This time, it feels desperate. Spencer kisses you with more fervour, like a fire’s been lit within him, the pleasure running through his veins almost like liquid courage as he kisses you deeply. You’re more than happy to be doing this, letting Spencer lick into your mouth while you jerk him off. You appreciate the weight of him in your hand, imagining him inside of you – but perhaps you’re getting ahead of yourself. 
“You can touch me, Spence,” you say, in between Spencer kissing you fervently. His hands have been cupping your face, but otherwise he seems awkward with them. You pull back slightly, and while it’s adorable that he’s still holding your face sweetly, you drag his hands down to your chest, in the oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Spencer’s drawer. “Like this.”
Spencer’s large hands cup your breasts through the shirt perfectly. He squeezes tentatively. You bite your lip as his palms brush over your nipples, as he manhandles you just a little. It’s more force than you’re used to from Spencer, kneading and squeezing and feeling you, and that makes your head spin. 
Daringly, Spencer’s hands slip under your shirt, as he leans back in to kiss you. You feel his calloused hands on your skin as he feels you up, making you shudder. His touch isn’t demanding nor pushy, simply exploratory as he feels your soft skin under his fingertips. 
Your arousal is pumping through your system, Spencer’s gentle submissiveness like a drug you can’t kick. The more you touch him, the more he reacts; touching you more, whimpering and gasping against your lips, into your neck.
“Come on, baby,” you coo in his ear, your hand speeding up on Spencer’s hardness. He’s leaking pathetically, wet in your palm, and he squirms underneath you. 
“I’m– It’s too–” Spencer cuts himself off with a helpless whine, like he can’t control himself. His hands grip your waist tight. “Please–”
“Mm,” you hum sympathetically, while you thoroughly enjoy seeing Spencer like this. “Wanna cum like this, baby?”
Spencer’s breathing hard. He can’t get the words out, but he shakes his head. You slow your strokes, to an excruciating pressure on his length. “No? Then tell me, Spence.”
“Inside you,” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut. 
You absolutely should not let Spencer fuck you for the first time on his couch, but he’s desperate and your resolve is steadily crumbling. “You– You’re sure?”
“Please,” Spencer gasps, his eyes pleading with you helplessly.
So, you pull your hand back and push your shorts off instead. Your panties come off in one fell swoop, and you sit back onto the couch with your legs spread. Spencer’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted as he looks at you, takes the sight of you in. 
Then he’s like a baby deer, standing up and fumbling to get his sweatpants off. You can’t help but giggle at his awkward movements, in his excitement and eagerness to get to touch you, to get to fuck you. He’s quick to get between your legs, his hardness nudging at your entrance already. 
“Mm, not yet, Spence,” you hum. You reach for his hand, taking his wrist as you guide his fingers to your clit. “You know what to do, right?”
He turns his wrist so his fingers – God, his fingers – are poised almost elegantly above your clit. He presses down and starts to circle his fingers against you. You gasp.
“Thought you didn’t– oh– Didn’t have much experience,” you gasp. You hold onto Spencer’s forearm tight, throwing your head back as Spencer pleasures you.
Spencer huffs out a laugh. “I might not be experienced, but I’m not a prude– I remember the… stuff I’ve seen. Eidetic memory and all.”
“Stuff,” you laugh. “I’m sure the porn you’ve watched must’ve helped, darling.”
He slips his fingers into your wetness with an unsurprising ease, considering how turned on you are by him. He hits spots inside you you’ve never thought were possible to reach, but they make electricity zip up your spine. You moan as he crooks his fingers into you, rocking them in and out with a wet squelch.
Spencer grins at you. “You were saying?”
“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?” you huff, your tone teetering between awfully turned on and mildly annoyed. 
“You like it,” Spencer says, assured of himself, and you smile, because you really do.
“My love,” you moan, as Spencer presses his fingers into you, back out. “You should try fucking me now.”
Spencer’s fingers are still inside of you, and his eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “You think so?”
You smile at him. “If you think you’re up for it.”
You mourn the loss of Spencer’s fingers, but as he’s mumbling to himself and lining his cock up with your entrance, you can only coo at how adorable you find all of this. And how turned on you are, but that’s more than obvious to the both of you by now. 
He looks to you, like he’s looking for reassurance. You nod. Even in the silence, he’s gotten the confidence to push his cock into you, the thickness of his tip breaching your hole. You gasp as you stretch around him, your cunt making space for him as he slides in, excruciatingly slow. “Spencer–”
Spencer lets out a whine as your tight heat engulfs him, his length swallowed up by you as he sinks deeper into you. “Oh, my God–”
“Just like that, baby,” you moan, your leg hooking around Spencer’s leg to coax him forward, closer to you. “Fuck.”
“Do I– When should I–” Spencer gasps, unable to form a coherent sentence with the pleasure swimming through his bloodstream. 
“You can start moving when you don’t feel like you’re going to blow your load if you breathe the wrong way,” you joke, but Spencer does seriously look like he’s going to finish any second. “Hey. Deep breaths, baby.”
Spencer’s brows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut as he breathes in hard, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’d told you to do that when he’d helped you through a panic attack one time, and while you feel bad that he feels so nervous about all this, it’s extremely amusing to you right now. 
“Look at me,” you say, trying your best not to laugh. “You’re doing great, love.”
Spencer pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes looking to you for validation. 
“So good for me, darling,” you coo, your hand on his hip, while your thumb draws little circles into his skin. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Spencer shudders, voice high-pitched and a little breathy. “I– You feel really good.”
“Yeah? It’ll feel even better when you start moving, sweetheart,” you hum. “You think you can do that for me? Slow, out then back in.”
Spencer whimpers, nodding, and he takes another deep breath in. His hands on your waist, he pulls out halfway before pressing back into you, and he moans so loudly your ears ring. “So– So tight, you–”
“That’s good, yeah? Feels good?” you coo. “Come on, baby. More.”
Spencer rests one of his arms on the back of the couch, holding himself steady and getting him that much closer to you. He starts to thrust in and out, starting off slow as he finds a rhythm. 
His thrusts are erratic, but you’re so wildly turned on and it still feels amazing, because it’s Spencer. 
Spencer is frantic, desperate, bracing himself against the couch as he fucks into you. Maybe pounding into you is a better phrase to use, because he’s fucking you like a madman, till the couch is squeaking under both your weight. You cry out, feeling Spencer drilling into you – and it feels so good.
“Oh, God,” Spencer whines. “You– It’s so good, oh–”
“Yeah, baby?” You rock your hips along with him, burying Spencer deeper into you. You clench so each thrust is a little tighter, and each time Spencer fucks into you, he moans a little louder. 
Amidst Spencer’s whines and pretty noises, you watch his face morph with pleasure, feeling assured that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. In fact, he’s probably enjoying this more. As you’re lost in your train of thought, admiring Spencer’s gorgeous face, you’re startled when you feel Spencer’s load inside of you, hot and slick. His hips flush against your ass, Spencer shudders as he rides out his orgasm, body trembling from the force of his pleasure.
“Oh, Spence,” you giggle, a little dizzy from how turned on you are, from watching Spencer lose himself just like that. You reach up to cup his face, your thumb gentle on his cheek. “Was that good?”
“Oh,” Spencer mumbles, seemingly brought back to reality. He pulls back, taking the sight of you in. “I’m– I’m good, I’m sorry–”
“Don’t be,” you say. “You’re so cute. It’s so hot.”
“I mean, you are too, but– But you haven’t–”
“You wanna make it up to me, then?” You smile, gentle and warm and Spencer nods like he’s eager to please you. 
You kiss him while he pulls out, replacing the thickness of his cock with two fingers, which fit into you easily. Like before, Spencer presses his fingers into you, slick and wet and squelchy. Spencer curls them and fingerfucks you like a pro, like he’s done this a hundred times. With his face pressed into your shoulder and your arms slung around his neck, Spencer fucks you on his fingers until your toes are curling and you’re screaming his name. You cry out as you orgasm, shaking as Spencer fucks you through it. 
You’re almost embarrassed when you finally come back to your senses, no longer reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer is kissing your jawline sweetly, his clean hand stroking your hair.
“Hey,” Spencer says softly, somehow knowing you needed to hear him. He parrots you from earlier, “Was– Was that good?”
“So good, my love,” you murmur into his shoulder. Then, after a quiet moment, “I thought you needed some time to get comfortable with being intimate.” 
Spencer pauses for a moment, like he’s pondering it, before he says, “I know. But for you, I think I’d do anything.”
That’s all Spencer manages to get out before you kiss him again. It’s tender and sweet, the intensity behind your kiss no longer lustful but full of adoration and love. You feel like you could sob right now, but you manage to hold it back.
Spencer gets into the shower with you, which you’re surprised by, but his hands are soft on your body as he cleans you up. You shampoo his hair for him, even though he has to lean forward a little so you can reach. 
You end up falling asleep in Spencer’s bed, curled up in his arms. 
You don’t dream at night, but when you wake up with a hardness poking against your thigh and Spencer’s gentle snoring in your ear, you think you might be. 
In your dreariness, you reach behind you, the angular sharpness of Spencer’s hip bone under your palm. He’s warm, cuddled up against you, and the tickling of his breath on your neck tells you that this isn’t a dream. 
“Spence,” you whisper, shaking him slightly. You watch as he blinks himself awake, drowsy as he comes to focus on your face. “Hey.”
“Good morning,” Spencer says, his voice rough with disuse. “What’s up?”
“You are,” you smile, a little too pleased, as your hand snakes down toward his crotch. 
He squeaks at the contact, your soft hand on his hardness, “Um, sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Had a good dream?”
He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. “About you, yeah.”
“Wanna tell me about it?” you goad, wiggling your eyebrows. 
Spencer’s cheeks somehow get even redder than they already were, but he shakes his head. “I want– I want to have sex, though.”
Your eyes widen. “Now?”
“Do you have the time for it?” He asks, sheepish. “I– I want to fuck you again.”
Your cheeks flush at Spencer’s sudden crudeness. You think about what Spencer could’ve possibly dreamt up, wonder how Spencer could possibly be confident enough to tell you straight up that he wants to fuck you. That phrase probably hadn’t been in Spencer’s lexicon until about twelve hours ago – while Spencer was smart – a literal genius – his innocence was completely understandable. 
“We have time,” you exhale, looking back into his eyes after looking at the clock. “I only have to be at the office in a couple of hours.”
“Good,” Spencer says, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hands are frisky already, slipping underneath your shirt. Spencer splays his hands over your stomach, before reaching up to cup your breasts in his hands. 
“You like touching me like this, don’t you, baby?” you chuckle breathlessly, already feeling weak in the knees from the way Spencer holds you. “Mm, I’m surprised.”
“Why is that?” His words are slightly muffled against your skin, too busy kissing you to make himself sound coherent. His hands are rough against the softness of your skin, and you moan from the way he’s handling you.
“Yesterday you couldn’t even tell me you wanted to fuck,” you croon, thoroughly pleased. “And now you’re touching me like you know what you’re doing. It’s so hot.”
“I– I just can’t get enough of you,” Spencer admits, his earnest words turning you on extremely.
“Now you’re just horny,” you laugh, feeling Spencer’s hand slide over your underwear.
“Mm, you’re so wet right now too,” Spencer murmurs in your ear, his warm breath and raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Where’d he learn to talk like that? You squeeze your thighs together, but that doesn’t stop Spencer from feeling the wetness between your legs, soaking through your panties. 
“All for you, baby,” you gasp, as Spencer’s fingers slip past the band of your underwear, deftly stroking your clit. “Spencer–”
“Can I fuck you? Please?” He pleads, breathy, his hips already rutting forward against your ass. 
His eagerness makes your head spin, his sudden confidence in the realm of sex surprising – maybe it’s cockiness, but you still find that stupidly attractive – but it is certainly welcomed. 
“Yes, Spence, please,” you shudder, the word yes leaving your lips enough for Spencer to pull your underwear down, over the swell of your ass. He fumbles with his own boxers for a moment, but soon you feel his hard, leaking tip pressed to your butt. He rocks his hips back and forth, desperately seeking whatever friction he can get. 
Lost in his own pleasure, Spencer is quick to slide his cock between your legs, the wetness from your cunt making it easy for him to rut into the tight, slick space. Like this, his length rubs up against you, the head of his cock nudging at your clit with every thrust of his hips. It feels primal, Spencer so far gone that he isn’t even fucking you proper, content with the slick, tight space between your thighs and your pussy. You wonder if you need to tell him, but Spencer’s groan in your ear is shaky as his tip catches on your hole.
His arms wrapped around you, both of you moan as Spencer finally sinks his cock into you. He slides in too easily, so easily you almost think he’d hadn’t meant to do it. Maybe he hadn’t, but you’d gotten there in the end, where you both need to be; Spencer buried inside of you.
It’s so different from yesterday, the angle when he presses into you from behind so exhilarating, so good. He’s just as desperate as last night, but there’s a sort of reckless confidence in his movements. His hands slide under your shirt to grab at your tits again, rocking his hips while he practically gropes you. It’s so hot your head spins. You feel like you’re going to explode.
“Spencer!” You cry out, your voice ripping its way out of your throat. Pleasure surges through you like electricity, Spencer’s thick cock hitting all the right spots from this angle. His eager desperation turns you on to no end, as you let him take you from behind. While you weren’t expecting lazy, morning sex at all, the intensity and desperation he fucks you with right now makes you think you could get used to this.
Spencer’s whine has your head spinning. His hips don’t slow, more rhythmic than yesterday but still as needy. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“Yeah?” You coo breathlessly. You’re so fucking turned on, and every time Spencer drives his hips into you you can hear how wet you really are. “You’re doing so good for me, Spence, fucking me so good.”
“You like it? Is it good?” Spencer gasps, always so eager to please you.
“So good,” you moan. You’re still sore from last night, but the pleasure Spencer is giving you right now overrides all of that. You would love for him to wake you up like this every day. “I’m close, baby.”
“Oh,” Spencer says, like he’s surprised you’re already getting off on this, on him– “What do you need me to do?”
“Just keep going, Spence,” you gasp. “Keep fucking me just like this.”
Spencer’s hum is breathy, high-pitched. Somehow, his grip on you gets tighter, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The force he fucks you with is so wildly arousing. You’re so enamoured, and so turned on.
Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and steady as it bubbles up inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the dirty, rough way Spencer fucks you, and then you feel his soft lips on your neck again. He isn’t properly kissing you – more like slobbering all over your neck, but you cry out as he does so, thighs pressing together as you reach your orgasm. You’re shaking through it, clenching around Spencer as you come, and Spencer’s gasping as your tight pussy pushes Spencer over the edge too. You feel his come inside of you, cock twitching as his load spurts hot and heavy into your cunt. You sob, feeling Spencer slow his thrusts as he rides out his orgasm.
“Holy shit,” you say, your voice coming out ragged and hoarse. You feel like a different woman, being fucked ruthlessly by your boyfriend in his bed for the first time. You can’t get enough. 
“I love you,” Spencer says quietly, earnest. It makes you shudder. 
“You’re crazy,” you laugh, taken aback at how Spencer’s returned to his gentle, soft self. “I love you too, you madman.”
“I can’t resist you,” he murmurs in your ear, the vibrations of his raspy morning voice almost soothing.
You turn around to face him, Spencer still holding you in his arms. He smiles warmly at you, and you lean in to kiss him. “You’re so cute.”
“Wanna go again?” he asks, somewhat timid. 
Your eyes widen. You try to hide your grin, but it doesn’t work. “Someone’s desperate, huh?”
Spencer flushes a gorgeous red. “Maybe a little?”
“I have to get ready for work,” you sigh, actually a little bummed that you can't spend all day fucking Spencer. “Maybe tonight?”
“Okay,” Spencer smiles. “Want me to drive you back to yours?”
You grin. “You’re the best!”
Work is relatively uneventful, numbers and Excel spreadsheets; and all you can think about is Spencer’s rapid change in demeanour over the last twelve hours, his innocence torn away by you, leaving behind a horny, insatiable man. You’re kind of proud of yourself for that. 
So, you can’t blame yourself for being excited to get back to Spencer’s. Lately, you’ve been staying over more, your apartment simply a place to house your wardrobe. Maybe you’ll talk to Spencer about living together.
“Hey, Spence,” you say, pleased when Spencer kisses you as he greets you at the door. 
Even with all the probable germs on you from being out all day, Spencer’s surprisingly clingy, hands on your waist as he stumbles in behind you, as you set the takeout you’d brought over on his dining table. Spencer leans in behind you, kissing your cheek then down your neck.
“Hey, what’s with you, baby?” you chuckle, very much enjoying the way Spencer’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, grabbing the meat of your thighs through your dress pants.
“Missed you,” Spencer answers simply, but even you can tell there’s something in his voice that implies he’s looking for something more. 
“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone the whole day, my love. I’m sure you must’ve found something to busy yourself with, though?” You hum, teasing. You have a good idea of where this is going.
Spencer’s quiet for a moment, so you turn to look at him. His lips are pressed into a thin line, looking almost nervous, and his cheeks are flushed red. Spencer finally presses his body close to yours, and you feel it–
“Spence,” you grin, “Someone’s happy to see me.”
“Thought about it– Thought about you all day,” Spencer mumbles. “You promised.”
“What did I promise, baby?” you egg him on, eager to hear him say it, even though you definitely know what he’s going to ask. 
“That we would do it again tonight,” he answers, but you shoot him a look. “You said we would have sex again tonight.”
“Twice in one day? I don’t know, baby,” you pretend to sound disinterested.
Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. Respectful as ever, he clears his throat. “Please? If you’re tired we don’t have to, but I really want to. Only if you want to, though. This involves both of us, I don’t want to impose–”
You giggle, reaching to hold his hands. “God, you’re perfect.”
“What–?” Spencer barely gets the word out before you’re kissing him. He’s happy to do so, holding your face gently, matching your energy perfectly. You feel his cock pressing against you. 
“I turned you into a sex fiend,” you laugh, between kissing him, “And you’re still thinking about making sure I’m into it too.”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, like he can’t comprehend how he could be into it if you weren’t too. “And I- I’m not a sex fiend, I just–”
Smiling, you whisper sultrily, “I think you should take me right here, baby.”
“Oh–” You cut Spencer off with another kiss, and he squeaks as you reach for his half-hard cock through his sweatpants. You’re positively delighted that Spencer’s like this, for you.
Spencer kisses you deeply, leaning forward until the small of your back hits the edge of the table. His hands coming up to your ass, he lifts you up, getting you to lay back on the table. You gasp, as Spencer kisses down the column of your neck, his hands making quick work of the buttons of your dress shirt. His lips are soft against your skin, at the swell of your breasts. Your shirt gets pushed off your shoulders. You feel him unhook your bra with a surprising ease, tossed aside, and then his hands are grabbing your tits like they were made for him. His thumbs brush over your nipples, a little forceful as he kneads at you, and your head is spinning. 
“Spencer,” you moan, as he kisses down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants to reveal your soaked-through underwear. He smiles up at you, his messy mop of hair a lovely sight. 
“Can I…?” Spencer’s big brown eyes dart down to where you’re soaked, then back up at you.
Your eyes widen. “Yes. If you want to.”
Spencer grins. “Of course I want to.”
His fingers are gentle on your hips as he pulls your panties off, wasting no time in spreading your legs so he can get between them. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, feeling kind of self-conscious over how eager he is to be doing this. Knelt between your thighs, he lifts one of your legs and swings them over his shoulder. You can feel his stubble on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his nose nudging against your clit. His tongue comes up, wet and hot, as he tastes you for the first time. “Spencer–”
He presses his face impossibly closer, more urgent in eating you out. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his jaw flexing as his tongue works on you, and you’re trembling already. Spencer’s extremely good with his mouth, and you’re surprised at how good he’s making you feel, considering he likely hasn’t done this before. The sounds of his mouth are wet and squelchy and so obscene, and you would feel almost embarrassed, were it not for how into this Spencer seems to be too, 
With your hands in his hair, you cry out when Spencer’s tongue circles your swollen clit, jolts of pleasure sent through your body. You can’t think straight when Spencer’s face is buried between your legs, eating you out like he was made for this. All you can think about is how gifted Spencer is with his tongue, and how you wish you could do this all night. 
“Please, love,” you moan, “Need you to fuck me.”
Spencer hums in approval, the vibrations between your legs making you jump. He makes a little wet slurping noise before he comes back up, and you feel your cunt throb when he looks up at you with his lovely, wide brown eyes, and his chin wet and messy with your slick. Spencer wipes his face with the back of his hand, and you’re so turned on you might just explode.
“I love you,” you tell him earnestly. “I think this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I love you.”
“What is? Having sex on my dinner table?” Spencer quips, as he sets your legs down and stands back up. He has a cocky grin plastered on his face. 
You roll your eyes playfully. “First time for everything, right?”
Spencer nods, smiling, before he leans forward to kiss you sweetly. You watch as he pulls his sweatpants down, his cock bobbing up, red and angry and rock hard. You feel yourself salivating at the sight, but decide that he needs to fuck you right now.
“Spencer,” you mewl, feeling breathless as you watch him wrap a hand around himself, stroking his length. Concentration is written all over his face and it makes you want to kiss him. 
“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” Spencer says, pressing his cock forward until he’s lined up with your entrance. It’s so tantalising, the way the blunt head of his cock threatens to slip into you. You’re so wet and so loose for him, and you need him inside of you now.
You gasp when he finally pushes in, his thick cock splitting you in half as he slides into you. The pressure is so perfect, the slow draw of his hips as he takes care not to rush, wanting to take care of you. Even with all this still being new for Spencer, he still focuses on you, puts you first. You’re not sure if you’re swooning over him, or the way his cock fits inside you perfectly.
You don’t need to encourage him to start moving. He rocks his hips slowly, somehow already familiar with your body, and makes you feel like you could explode with pleasure. 
He leans forward, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you. Like this, Spencer presses into you deeper, fucks you slow and deep and loving. The edge of the table is absolutely digging into your back, but you don’t care when every sense of yours is filled with Spencer, getting to taste and touch and hear him. You taste yourself on his tongue, hear the sloppy way he thrusts into you, your skin burning wherever he’s pressed up against you. 
Burying his face in your neck, Spencer pants in your ear, hot and heavy as he fucks you, giving you everything you need. Your head is swimming with arousal, as Spencer presses you against the table and fucks you like his life depends on it. “You feel so good, fuck, so good–”
“I’m so close, baby,” you cry out, the pace absolutely ruthless as Spencer fucks you. You didn’t think his stamina would be this good, considering your boyfriend’s lanky stature and abhorrence towards exercise. You certainly wouldn’t mind doing this kind of cardio with him more often. “Please, Spence–”
“Let go, I– I’m here for you,” Spencer stumbles over his words, but he’s so sweet that you’re losing yourself, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. You scream as you reach your peak, your toes curling while Spencer fucks you through it, shaking as pleasure and arousal zips through your body. Spencer’s hips stutter as the tightness of your pussy has him reeling, too close too quickly. 
While his hips keep a steady pace, you’re feeling loopy as Spencer continues to fuck you. You hold his head close to you, kissing his forehead as you murmur, “You’re so hot, Spence. Made me come so quickly, and you held out for me? So good for me, baby. Are you close?”
Spencer whines, a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “Please, I’m so close, need you–”
“I’m right here, baby,” you coo, stroking his sweat-matted hair sweetly. You’re so enamoured with him. “Gonna cum inside me, Spence? Fill me up with your–”
You don’t even get to finish your dirty talk before Spencer is moaning, coming inside of you. It feels like he’s released so much inside of you, hot and messy as he fucks you through his own high. His chest heaves as he pants, trembling as he reels from the intensity of his orgasm. Spencer’s hips slow to a stop, and he mouths at your neck mindlessly until he seems to get his bearings back. You imagine you must look a mess, sweat and spit all over you, your makeup from a long day of work likely running by now. 
Spencer gets up off of you, so both of you have space to catch your breaths. You feel Spencer slip out of you with a slick ‘pop’, and feel his release trickle out of you just moments after. You stifle a quiet moan, but when you look up at Spencer, his eyes couldn’t possibly leave the sight between your legs. His lips are parted slightly, pupils blown wide, as he watches you drip with his release. You feel Spencer’s cock, resting against your inner thigh, twitch slightly. 
“Woah there, cowboy,” you chuckle, out of breath. “Give me a minute to recover.”
His eyes practically twinkle when they dart up to look at you. He’s like an excited puppy as he asks, “Again?”
You shake your head, laughing, and sit up to kiss Spencer again. “Maybe we could try something new?”
Spencer grins, nodding eagerly. It definitely seems like he’s down for whatever, as long as it’s with you. 
6K notes · View notes
artdcnaldson · 4 months
Text
changeover || art donaldson x reader ; patrick zweig x reader
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Rating: Explicit (18+)
Word Count: 7.2k
Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex x2, fingering, f!recieving oral), drinking, pining after people you can’t have, a dash of reader x tashi, sprinkles of patrick x art, porn WITH plot
Summary: your ‘casual’ fling with art isn’t working for you anymore, which sucks because you probably love the guy. enter a freshly heartbroken patrick to take your mind off of things.
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FALL 2006
You knew exactly why Art Donaldson refused to acknowledge that you were an item. You could see it clearly across the room— the way you were cast to the shadows while he followed Tashi around like a lost puppy.  
It made sense, even if it made your chest ache. Tashi was gorgeous, and was acing her classes, and was going to go pro soon and become a beautiful, all-American sports icon. And you were just some girl he’d met because he needed help understanding the reading for class. 
You’d known each other for months by then— hooking up, going on dates that ‘weren’t dates,’ spending most of your time together. And you stayed firmly in the no-labels zone. But you weren’t bitter. It was totally fine, being treated like a girlfriend in all but name. 
Art laughed and leaned into Tashi. It was totally fine.
You were nursing a beer in a red solo cup and trying your best to look friendly and approachable. The only reason you were even at the party was because Art had brought you, so you should’ve felt grateful. You should’ve been having fun.
But just as soon as you’d arrived, he’d slipped away with a promise to be right back. It had been over an hour, so it seemed like you had very different definitions of right back.
“Looks like your boyfriend stole my girlfriend.” You turned to see Patrick, tanned from his time on tour. He was only going to be at Stanford for the weekend before taking off for a challenger a state over, which meant he needed to capitalize on any chance to spend time with Art and Tashi. 
Unfortunately, you’d both been ditched.
“Art isn’t my boyfriend,” you said pointedly, maybe a little too quickly. 
Patrick knew better. The last time he came to visit, he’d interrupted a pseudo date night between the two of you (which was a nice way of saying he walked in on the two of you in Art’s dorm while his best friend was was knuckles deep in you). The rest of that night wound up being spent passing around mixed drinks made with cheap vodka and whatever you could get from the nearest vending machine. You overheard the it’s casual, nothing serious conversation they’d had through the ajar door while you bought more Powerade and Red Bull in the hall. 
But you were being so understanding and cool about that. 
Patrick narrowed his eyes slightly. “Really?” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards for a moment before he wrapped his lips around a beer can. He tried to hide it, but you saw. 
You chewed on your lip, stomach twisting with nerves and curiosity. He was probably just messing with you, trying to get your thoughts all muddled up about Art because it was fun. Still, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question echoing through your mind. “Did Art say something to you? About us, I mean.”
The question felt pathetic. A stupid, desperate girl begging to know if the guy she liked felt the same way. 
Patrick shrugged, leaning against the wall bearing the portraits of the ghosts of frat brothers’ past. “Not directly. But you’re here together, right? And he’s still seeing you.”
“I guess,” you replied with a huff, embarrassment burning hot in your chest. 
“If you’re worried about Tashi, don’t be,” Patrick said, sparing a glance in her direction. When you looked towards Art, and the way he was smiling and laughing and looked so natural beside her, a frown turned your lips. Patrick nudged your arm and offered a smile. “Hey, I’m serious. Nothing’s gonna happen there. Trust me.”
It should’ve felt nice. A total reassurance from the person who knew Art best. But it did nothing to quell the turmoil twisting in the pit of your stomach. Because if he really did feel that way, why was he over there with her?
Tashi Duncan. So beautiful, radiant, and perfect that she had total control over two men. Your paths didn’t cross much, outside of Art, and that was rare since he liked to keep you two apart. 
But there was a part of you that knew that Tashi would’ve been able to make you melt with one look, one smile, one word. You wanted to experience what Art did. You wanted to know what Patrick knew, and what Art was jealous of. Or maybe you wanted something of your own too, something to keep Art out of. 
“I need another drink,” you said suddenly, meeting Patrick’s gaze. “Do you wanna come with me?” Patrick’s eyes flitted quickly towards Tashi, where she bantered with Art and the rest of the tennis team. 
There was something in his expression you found incredibly familiar. That pang of jealousy. The ache of not belonging just right. The look was gone quickly, replaced by a toothy smile. “Sure. I could use something stronger.”
——
An hour later, Tashi left with Patrick, and Art quickly decided to take you back to his own dorm. 
His lips were insistent against yours, kissing you hungrily, completely dissonant to the delicate way he tugged down the zipper of your dress. His fingers were warm where they brushed along the line of your spine. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting of beer and mint gum.
“What were you doing with him?” He murmured against your lips just as he peeled off the cheap, bodycon dress you’d gotten from Forever 21. It was tossed across the room, to be lost in the mess of practice duffles and empty water bottles and dirty laundry. The only time he parted his lips from you was to lift you onto his bed and slot himself between your thighs. 
His tongue licked into your mouth possessively, claiming you as his from the inside out. You gasped as one of his hands kneaded your breast, panting open-mouthed against his lips. “Who?” You managed weakly, your mind completely blank except for Art, Art, Art. And maybe a tiny voice in the back of your head that was still thinking about the Tashi of it all.
“Patrick.” His voice was soft against the tender skin of your jaw. “I saw you two talk, then you disappeared for, like, an hour.” His teeth nipped gently at your pulse point as he nuzzled against your throat, awaiting your answer. 
So he had been watching? He was with her, but he was still thinking about you. It made your heart flutter. You moaned softly as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you through your panties. “Getting drinks,” you managed feebly. “Fuck, Art, I can’t concentrate while y—“
You gasped at the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties, teasing you with delicate touches. “Just drinks? For an hour?”
A strangled gasp escaped you as fingers slick with your arousal met your clit. When your eyes opened in surprise, you found Art staring right back. His touch was relentless, flooding your senses with pleasure as he demanded an answer. “We were in the living room,” you managed between soft pants and moans. “He was telling me about the— god— about the tour.”
Art’s expression flickered slightly— a tiny furrow forming between his brows. Was it doubt, or possessiveness, or anger? Before you could figure it out, his lips were against your throat, your panties were pushed to the side, and he was easing two fingers inside of your cunt.
“Fuck,” you cried out, grasping onto his shoulders. French manicured nails scratched at the pastel-colored polo he wore— why was he still wearing his clothes? Soft, keening moans slipped past your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. Every thought of him preferring Tashi or him leading you on slipped from the front of your mind as his thumb rubbed at your clit.
With a free hand, you palmed him over his pants, relishing in the way he panted against your warm skin. You made quick work of the button of his jeans— you knew your way around him like the back of your hand. He was warm, pulsing in your delicate grip when your hand slipped beneath the band of his briefs. Slick at his tip with need. 
He moaned against your pulse point, nuzzling against you as you began to jerk him off in time with each pump of his fingers. 
“You smell like him,” he groaned, nose pressed to the spot just beneath your ear as his hips bucked into your fist with a new sort of desperation. You didn’t have to ask who he meant. His tongue slipped out, lapping at you briefly before sucking a bruise into the delicate skin there. 
His fingers flexed so they brushed against the sweet spot within you. Your eyes rolled back and a sob of pleasure clawed its way from your throat. “Need you,” you pleaded, equal parts a thoughtless cry and a demand.
And who was he to deny either of you that? A pitiful whine escaped your lips when he slipped his fingers from within you and moved your hand from him. He stood to clumsily pull off the rest of his clothes at the same time that you quickly shimmied off your panties and tossed them to the side.
”You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned as he joined you back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You were so pliant and sweet beneath him, looking up at him with adoring doe-eyes and a pretty smile on your spit-slick lips. He should’ve been perfectly content.
As he parted your thighs, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, he wondered if Tashi and Patrick were doing the same exact thing at that same exact moment. He could imagine it clearly— Tashi, splayed out on her bed, and Patrick right at home between her thighs; sinking in, faces contorting with pleasure. Before he could stop himself, a soft moan slipped past his lips at the mental image. 
Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself within you, and he buried his face into your neck. Fuck. You really did smell like Patrick. The shitty Axe body spray that was supposed to smell like chocolate, and the lingering scent of cigarettes. 
You moaned prettily, pussy squeezing him like a vise. Manicured nails scratched against his back, delicate enough that the marks would probably disappear by that time the next day. He was so used to Patrick lounging shirtless around their hotel rooms after tournaments— severe-looking scratch marks looking like angel wings against his pale skin. He always wore them like a badge of honor the night after he snuck off with some pretty girl he’d set his sights on. That’s how you know you’re doing it right. 
Why was he thinking about Patrick?
He tried to lose himself in you— in how pretty you were beneath him, the sweet words falling from your lips with each thrust. Feels so good, Art. ‘M so close already. Gonna make me cum. 
When he looked down at you, your mouth hung open, lips shiny with spit, begging to be kissed. His mouth met yours messily and you both moaned into the kiss. He moved a hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he bullied his cock into your inviting cunt. 
You came with a string of moans and expletives that made the person next door bang on the wall out of annoyance. Art had to pull out as soon as he felt you start to squeeze around him. All it took was a few clumsy strokes and he was spilling onto your stomach with an almost embarrassing whine. 
You both lay there catching your breath and cursing the shitty air conditioning in the dorm. He wiped the mess of cum off of your stomach with an old tee shirt that was hanging off the side of his desk and tossed it to the side to be dealt with later.
“You’re so gross,” you mumbled with a tiny laugh, reaching down to grab your underwear from your floor. After you pulled them back on, you watched him dig through a pile of clothes in a papasan chair for a passable pair of pajama pants. An amused smile played on your lips at the sight. “Do I need to buy you a hamper?”
He held up a pair of pajama pants to examine them, shrugged, and pulled them on. “I have one, it’s just full.” A boyish grin spread across his lips as he crossed the room towards his dresser. He tossed a random tee shirt from the drawer in your direction and climbed on the bed, grinning down at you. “See? I have clean clothes.”
You laughed as you pulled the shirt over your head, then turned on your side to face him. His eyes flickered from your face, down to the shirt, then back. You wrinkled your face in confusion and peered down at the shirt. 
“What? What does it say?” You asked with a laugh.  You held it out, squinting to make sense of the graphic— faded and upside down. Finally, your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! I thought you were more of a Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake guy. I’ve never even seen a Blink-182 CD in your stuff before.”
Art cleared his throat and shrugged, thumbing the bottom of the tee shirt absentmindedly. “I went with Patrick a few years back.”
A smile turned your lips. “It’s sweet that you two are such good friends.” You reached over, brushing his curls from his forehead. He turned, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Did you and Tashi have fun tonight?” The insecurity in your words was palpable.
Art shrugged. “A party’s a party, y’know?” He leaned into your touch, letting you play with his hair. “Just lost track of time. I won’t run off on you next time.”
You chewed your lip shyly. “I think it’d be nice for the three of us to hang out sometime,” you said, watching his expression to gauge his reaction. 
“C’mere,” he said with a tired smile, effectively avoiding your suggestion. When he pulled you against his side, he nuzzled his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickled with each exhale, which made you squirm, but every so often he’d place a chaste kiss on the skin there and you’d forget why you wanted to ask him to move.
In the morning, when you woke up to his alarm clock blaring a local radio station, you realized it was the first time he’d let you stay the night. 
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SPRING 2007
After your second drink, you decided that Art Donaldson had hung you out to dry for the last time. Well, probably the last time. 
Most likely not the last time. 
Knowing yourself, you’d be clinging to his side like a lost puppy in a few weeks’ time, if you even had the dignity to give it that long. The second his attention turned to you again, you knew you’d be absolutely relishing in the special affection he always gave you when he was experiencing Tashi-related withdrawal.
You were so stupidly in love (or in lust, or in whatever) with him that you’d accept just about anything he could throw at you. 
No labels, just casual? Fine. Ignoring you all night then conveniently remembering you exist when he’s horny and ready to go back to his dorm? Whatever. You’re game. 
You’d gone to every match, watched a few practices. Helped him study for exams, let him borrow the notecards you’d painstakingly written over the course of the semester. Jesus, you even wrote a few essays for him when his schedule got crowded and he just couldn’t manage.
All you asked in return was a date to a stupid formal, and he ditched you last minute for Tashi. Again. And you couldn’t even get pissed about it without feeling guilty, because she’d fucking gotten injured and it wasn’t her fault that the guy you were into was carrying a torch for her instead.
“You’ve been staring down the Reese’s Pieces for the last five minutes.” The familiar voice startled you from your sulking. The world filtered back in suddenly— the blaring music, the smell of cigarettes and pot, the chatter of people wandering in and out of neighboring dorms. When you turned, Patrick Zweig was leaning against the vending machine beside you, carrying a large Tennis bag and backpack on both of his shoulders. “Do you need five bucks?”
“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion. “I heard about her match. I just figured that you’d…“ You trailed off as you noticed the thinly veiled kicked-puppy expression he wore. “Oh.”
He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s… it’s over. Did you want the Reese’s, or not?” 
“No,” you shook your head and laughed. “I just needed…” you trailed off. What was it you needed, again?
You needed Art. A date to the formal. You needed to feel desirable and cared for. You needed him to get his head out of his ass and just fucking commit. You needed to tell Art to fuck off and find another groupie. You needed…
“Another drink?” Patrick suggested.
You nodded eagerly like that’s what you’d been thinking all along. “Yes. Another drink.” You paused, glancing at his bags. “Do you want to drop your things in my room first? My roommate is in Iowa, or something. She won’t mind.”
Your dorm was decorated in shades of pink and green, with a ruffled bedspread and faux fur pillows and blankets. You bent down to retrieve two bottles of Smirnoff Ice from a mini fridge. Patrick did his best to look away like a gentleman would. 
Well, he did his best. It wasn’t exactly his fault that his options were to look at your tight jeans or the bulletin board above your desk that was essentially an Art Donaldson shrine. 
Pretty pink push pins held up a photo of the two of you after one of his matches, both beaming at the camera. Then there were little notes he’d written you in his boyish scrawl. Tickets to movies you’d gone to see and tickets to his matches. 
“Here,” you said, drawing his attention back to you, thankfully in an upright position. You’d already popped the bottle caps off the radioactive blue drink you handed him. You were chewing your lip shyly, sweetly. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?”
“What?” He took a drink and nearly grimaced at the sweetness. After he finished it, he’d need to go find something stronger.
You sighed and took a long drink yourself. “I dunno, the whole… thing. Art.” You absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt. “I mean, what girl with any self-respect lets a guy just screw her for months with no commitment?”
“Maybe self-respect is overrated.” He laughed and stepped closer. “Full disclosure? I only came here hoping that I could fuck someone and spend the night in their dorm. Free booze was a plus.”
“We’re in the same boat then,” You said, gazing up at him through your lashes. “We’re both jilted lovers who need a distraction.”
You tilted the bottom of the bottle up, chugging down the contents. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and rolled your neck out. “Bottoms up,” you said with a coy smile. “Let’s find something stronger.”
——
An hour later, something by the Pussycat Dolls was blaring through a set of speakers in a darkened common area. You were the fun kind of tipsy, where you started to care less about everyone else and just found yourself buzzed in that light, easy kind of way. You danced to the beat without a care in the world while Patrick sat on the arm of a couch and nursed his beer. 
His eyes were glued to your body as you moved, almost hypnotic beneath the red Christmas lights that had been stapled around the ceiling. Your shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of stomach that you either didn’t notice or didn’t care to cover up. 
The only thought running through his head? Art was a fucking idiot. 
You glanced over at him and nodded for him to join you. He didn’t move, so, not one to give up, you joined him over on the couch. When he went for a drink, you tipped up the bottom of the beer can and forced him to finish it, even as it spilled past his lips and down his chin. 
“Thanks,” he deadpanned, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 
With a pleased smile, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the middle of the room to dance.
He shook his head as you tried to make him dance— your hands on his hips, pushing and pulling and trying and failing to make him move. “No, no. I don’t dance,” he explained, as firmly as he could stand to be.
“Because you can’t? Or because you think you’re too cool?” You asked, raising a brow. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “C’mon, if you dance, I’ll tell you a secret.”
That did make him laugh. “What are you, five?”
With a shrug, you took his hands into yours and moved them to your hips. There was a hesitance in his touch, at first. But then his fingers splayed against exposed skin, and you were so warm. Your hips began moving to the beat beneath his hands. “See? We’re dancing,” you said, peering up at him through long lashes.
You looked genuinely victorious when he finally started dancing… kind of. It was less of an action and more of an acceptance. It had been abundantly obvious since the moment he walked into your dorm room that you wanted to end the night with him. Maybe it was because you thought it would hurt Art, or maybe it was because he was there and he was feeling the exact same things you were.
He’d done his best to resist out of some lingering sense that he could repair things with Tashi, and the hope that maybe Art’s spite would fade and they’d be friends again.
Despite skipping the whole college thing, Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He knew better. The second Tashi fell on that court, both of those doors slammed in his face.
And you were so close to him that he could smell the liquor on your breath. And Victoria’s Secret body spray. Mostly the liquor, though. He was barely moving, but you— you were something else. Hips moving against the thigh he’d slotted between your legs, arms trailing up his chest so you could sling them around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Even though you were grinding against each other like two horny middle-schoolers at their first dance, he’d had enough to drink that he didn’t really give a fuck. When he moved his hands from your hips to grab your ass, you gasped and laughed like it was the best thing in the world.
Your body moved so effortlessly that anything he could have possibly done would’ve looked clunky and clumsy. He groaned when you brushed against him just right, and he could tell by your smug expression that you knew exactly how you were affecting him. 
You leaned in, chest to chest. “Can I tell you the secret now?” You whispered, lips brushing against the line of his jaw. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I think it’d be a bad idea for us to fuck. We’re both in a bad place.”
“Mhmm. Bad idea,” he echoed. He wanted to reach out and grab your jaw, to tilt your face up and kiss you. One of your hands had slipped beneath the hem of his (Tashi’s) shirt, just barely teasing the skin there. It made him shiver and lean into the heat of your touch.
“But I still want to.” You sounded so earnest, so needy. Like you’d take anything he’d give you and thank him for it. “We can use each other to feel better, right? Just a nice, warm body and a rush of dopamine.”
It was exactly what Patrick had come to the fucking dorm rager for. To feel wanted and desired. For someone to look at him like he wasn’t actively failing at the one thing he was supposed to be the best at. 
But he was good at other things.
You guided him through the crowded hallway, way more packed than they had been before you’d started dancing. It was getting later, more people were falling for the siren song of R&B and beer. You were a siren of a different making— with much more dangerous consequences than a hangover.
It almost felt wrong to be back in your innocent, frilly little dorm with the intention of fucking your brains out. But the looks you were giving him were enough proof that he wasn’t the only pervert. Before you could get too far, he pinned you up against the door, displacing a dry-erase calendar in the process. 
You glanced down, eyes flitting towards the hearts around tomorrow’s date, anticipating the formal that Art had flaked on. Without looking back, you kicked the dry-erase board out of the way, a problem for later. 
His lips met yours in a messy clash— teeth knocking slightly until you found a rhythm with each other. Patrick Zweig kissed like he’d been at war for fucking years and had just returned home. He kissed like he had crawled out of the desert and the only promise of water could be found on your tongue. 
You’d never been kissed with that level of need and desperation— that desire— and you fucking loved it. The taste of his tongue licking into your mouth, the rumble of a moan against your own lips.
His hands were moving beneath your shirt, pushing it up as he went. A pretty whine slipped past your spit-slick lips as he squeezed your tits over your bra. Your hands stayed busy undoing his jeans. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers barely brushed against the bulge through the denim. 
“That feel good?” You teased, practically breathing the words into his lungs as you slipped your hand into his boxers. He groaned in response as your hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly.  There was something addicting about his need— you relished in the pulse of him, warm and bucking into your grip. And you wanted more. You wanted to be the one to make him come undone. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
His head fell back slightly as you brushed your thumb along his tip, the movement accompanied by another soft groan. The way you peered up at him with an earnest need to please made hot desire thrum within him.
“You could start by taking these clothes off,” he said, fingers roaming to tug at the strap of your bra. You started to move, slipping your hand from his boxers. Then you stopped.
“You’re not gonna help?” You asked coyly, goosebumps forming where his fingers trailed along your side, teasing at the band of the bra. 
That made a tiny smirk turn at his lips. “Does Art help?” It shouldn’t have turned him on— that little flash of longing for Art in your eyes. But it did. You nodded, shifting slightly to encourage more of Patrick’s touch. “Lift your arms.”
As easy as anything, you obeyed. No banter, no push and pull for control. It was so different than what he had with Tashi (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about), and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how it always was for you and Art (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about either). 
He tossed your shirt to the side and moved a single hand to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a quick movement that he’d perfected at sixteen. Painstakingly slow, he pushed each strap down your arms, until it fell at your feet and exposed your tits to the overzealous AC of the Stanford dorms. 
Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and his mouth watered in a near-Pavlovian response to the sight. His hands moved back to your chest, so he could thumb over the sensitive buds and relish in the way you shivered.
The wood of the door was cold against your shoulders as you arched into his touch. Manicured nails fumbled with the button to your jeans— you twisted and shimmied them off before kicking them to the side.
Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed. A grin played at your lips as he practically dropped you onto it, making a decorative pillow fall to the floor. 
“It was only, like, five steps,” you said with a laugh. Patrick shrugged and made quick work of his clothes. You sat up on your elbows to watch him shuck off his pants, then awkwardly hop on one foot at a time to remove his shoes and socks.
When he finally joined you on the bed, he was clad only in his boxers, which were sporting an almost comically large tent. He positioned himself over you, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face. “Can I go down on you?”
You laughed lightly in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”
He nodded. “As a heart attack.” He nuzzled against your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, lemme make you feel good, okay? I live for this shit.”
You giggled, pushing his face away. “Yeah. Fuck. You can.”
He trailed his lips down your jaw, then your sternum. He stopped only briefly to suck each nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch into him. Your hand moved into his hair, and he moaned against your tit as you tugged slightly. 
You watched him kiss down your stomach and peel your panties down your legs with his teeth through half-lidded eyes. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he slowly kissed up one leg.
The sight made your stomach flip— the sheer desire of it all. Your mind flickered to Tashi, as it seemed to do more and more. Tashi got this same sight, felt the same lips on her skin, and heard the same groans and pants. You could’ve laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. At that moment, with Patrick on top of you, you were closer to Tashi than Art could even dream of.
A tap on the inside of your thigh was his wordless way of telling you to open up for him, to get out of your head and come back to earth. Your tummy fluttered as you spread your legs more and he slotted himself there with an arm slung across your stomach. 
“Fuck,” he said lowly, peering up at you. “You get this wet from just kissing?”
Heat burned in your cheeks at his obvious amusement, but you could tell he loved how responsive you were. His tongue traced you from your hole to your clit, making you cry out and twist your fingers into his curls. Quick, teasing flicks against your clit made your thighs tremble and squeeze around his shoulders. You were so fucking sensitive that it made him want to tear you apart.
It was messy— a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal as he made out with your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he nuzzled deeper into you, moaning as his fervor was rewarded with more of your juices spilling onto his tongue. 
There was no method or precision to it, even though you were quite sure he could’ve had you coming undone beneath his fingers in no time at all. Patrick relished in every tiny reaction— in feeling your thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair. Relished in the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your slick smeared across his face. 
Your back was arching off the bed, nails digging just shy of painfully into his scalp. 
He opened you up with one finger, then a second. Your cunt accepted the intrusion with ease, like you were made for it. For him. He crooked his fingers just so and you cried out pathetically. He pressed there, constant and firmly and your fingers tugged harder on his hair, moans increasing in pitch as your breaths came in pants. 
“I’m— I— fuck—“ words failed you as his lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked, making spots dance across your vision. In the absence of words, all you could manage were fucked out sobs and pitiful little whines.
Slick walls fluttered around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against his tongue. You were so easy to get worked up— a toy for him to wind up and set into motion. You came with a moan that would’ve made a weaker man cum inside of his boxers, your cunt spasming around the intrusion of his fingers. 
When he sat back and cleaned his fingers in his mouth, you were watching through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Tiny pieces of hair were plastered to your face and forehead, and you gave a breathless giggle as you looked up at him. 
“Holy shit,” you said with a grin as he shucked off his boxers and kicked them off somewhere across the room. 
“Feel good?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to your hip bone. You nodded wordlessly, feeling dizzy with need. “Gonna give me another one?”
“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, peering up at him with wide eyes. The tip of his nose was shiny with your arousal, which made warmth spread across your cheeks. With a sheepish laugh, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. There wasn’t much you could do about the mess on his mouth and chin. “You’re all messy.”
He kissed you slow— leaving his tongue against yours, making you taste yourself mixed with his spit. It was less of a kiss than a series of slow laves of his tongue against yours. It felt dirty, and a little gross, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. You’d never kissed Art like that, would’ve never even dreamed of it. Patrick was an entirely different animal. 
You stayed like that for a while— just completely lost in the feel of him warm on top of you, grinding his cock against your cunt as he planted messy kisses to your lips. 
“Condom?” He mumbled the words against your lips when he finally grew impatient.
“Mhmm. Bedside table.”
He fumbled inside the drawer, grabbing glasses cleaning wipes two seperate times before he finally found a foil packet in the bottom of the drawer.  
He held it between two fingers, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You sure this’ll fit me? I’m bigger than Art.”
You rolled your eyes. “Not by that much.”
“Where it counts, though.” His smirk was smarmy as he tore open the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. He spat in his hand and stroked himself as he peered down at you, like he hadn’t quite decided how he wanted you yet. 
“Turn over,” he finally said with a pat to the meat of your thigh. You did as he said, almost hesitant as you turned over and settled onto your forearms, arching your back slightly. “Does Art ever fuck you like this?”
He held the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you with the tiniest amount of pressure. You took in a shaky breath and shifted, eager for more that he wasn’t going to give you yet. “Do you have to bring him up right now?”
No. He knew he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help himself at the same time. The thought of his Art in this same bed with you made it all so much hotter for him. He wanted to know how Art had fucked you, he wanted every detail burned in his brain. He wanted to be better, or maybe just be there with the two of you. 
It had gotten close. Once. Art was definitely fingering you under a blanket while the three of you watched a movie on his laptop across the room. Patrick’s thigh was touching yours— he could feel the way your muscles tensed and shook as Art played with you. He was close enough to hear the hitch of your breath. 
And if that hadn’t been enough to give it away, Art’s stupid fucking smirk and the obvious way his arm was moving would have.
He didn’t do anything then, but maybe he should’ve. 
“I’ll take that as a no.” He was slow as he sank into you, inch by inch. It could’ve been the position, or maybe his cocky bravado was completely founded, but he did feel bigger than you were used to. A soft moan was punched from your lips when he was finally buried to the hilt— your breath came in soft pants as you adjusted to the feeling of him. 
With your face pressed into your pillows, each breath you took flooded your senses with the smell of Art’s cologne. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as your thoughts were overwhelmed with him.
“Shit, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groaned. His fingers dimpled your skin where he held onto you. He moved one hand to rub the base of your spine in a way that could probably have been tender, on another day. You moaned pathetically into the pillows. “What? You need something?” 
One shallow, teasing thrust made your toes curl. “More,” was all you could manage.
“Can you take it?” Patrick cooed, smugness was practically dripping from his tongue. “Because I can go slow if you need—“
“You’re such an asshole. Just fuck m—”
A rough snap of Patrick’s hips cut you off suddenly. You cried out, grasping onto the bedspread feebly as he began to fuck you in earnest. 
Each thrust made the cheap, university-provided bed frame slam against the wall. The decorations you had hung up rattled, threatening to tumble right onto the floor and shatter, but neither of you even noticed. The moans slipping past your lips were pornographic.
But the sounds escaping you were nothing compared to the noises Patrick was making. Art had made an off-handed comment, once, about how much of a slut Patrick could be. You hadn’t really seen why until you got to hear the desperate, debauched noises he could make.
You slipped a hand between your thighs to rub at your clit and the feeling stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes rolled back, ass jiggling in time with each thrust.
Through it all, the memory of Art in this bed clung to you. Art, burying himself in the soft, wet heat between your thighs, flushed down to his chest and panting softly. His hungry kisses, melting sweet on your tongue like cotton candy. The whines that slipped past his lips, better than the prettiest music you could imagine. 
With each brutal thrust of Patrick’s cock into you, he punched out soft ah, ah, ahs from your lips. In your head, you just heard Art, Art, Art. Maybe that’s what you meant to say. 
You were probably in love with him. You were fucking his best friend. And it wasn’t even that simple. Patrick and Art and Tashi and somewhere between it all, you lingered. It was a giant clusterfuck of feelings and lust that you’d somehow tangled yourself inside of. Wanting someone so much, you want whoever has them just as badly. 
Maybe everything would’ve been a lot cleaner if you’d just locked the four of you into a room and stayed until every bit of tension had been fucked out. The idea of it all made you moan softly into the pillows. 
Patrick pulled you up suddenly, back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck into you. One hand grabbed at your jaw, turning you so he could press his lips to yours again, and the other squeezed at your tits. His mouth did a perfect job of muffling your moans— Patrick relished in feeling your pretty whines vibrate against his lips. 
“You feel so fucking perfect.” His words made heat flutter through you. “Need t’ feel you cum again. You have it in you, yeah? I can feel it.”
You nodded, eager to please. Pleasure was lapping at every nerve, lightning-hot. Your fingers rubbed faster at your clit as he pounded up into you. The whines escaping you were pathetic as your body crawled closer and closer to the edge. 
“Close,” you gasped out. Patrick licked into your open mouth, kissing you sloppily as you set a punishing pace on your poor, oversensitive clit. “So close— f-fuck—“
Your orgasm hit you suddenly. You clawed at his arm with your free hand, desperately seeking purchase as euphoria pulsed through your veins. 
“That’s it,” he groaned, his breath hot against your jaw. “Fuck— squeezin’ me so tight I can barely move— god—“
Your eyes were half-lidded as he worked you through it, rhythm only just beginning to falter as his finish approached. He pushed you back onto your stomach, manhandling your hips so your back was arched just like he wanted. 
You were reduced to whimpers and whines by the time he finally came— buried as deep as he could get, grip bruising on your hips. A few shallow thrusts were all he could manage before he pulled out, collapsing on beside you. 
You were catching your breath while he disposed of the condom in the cute trash can beside your bed, filled with gummy snack wrappers and broken pencils and old class notes. It felt like sacrilege. He laid back down, and you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you. 
With his head against the pillows, you wondered if he could also sense the phantom of Art’s presence there in the bed. Somewhere between you, forcing distance.
“So, when do you leave for your next tournament?” You asked. Unconsciously, you reached out to play with his hair, the same way you did to Art in times like these. “Soon, I bet. You usually don’t stay long.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” He asked, a tiny smile playing at his lips. His chest was still heaving with exertion. 
You shook your head. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Patrick.” He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. 
In the morning, you’d wake up squished against Patrick’s side with the taste of sugary alcohol on your tongue. When you picked up your phone to see three missed calls from Art, it was easier to pretend that you hadn’t seen them at all.
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thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed, please lmk by sending an ask, or whatever you wanna do <3
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he-calls-me-kitten · 10 months
Text
Dirty Dozen (ft. +2)
GN! MC x Pervert! OM Characters
(Cause y'all seemed to love the first one omg. Also TW: I made everyone wayy more sleazy and nasty than before so read at your own risk. MInors DNI)
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Pervert! Mammon who likes to ask you for something specifically when your hands are full. "MC, lend me a few Grimm could ya?" He asks when you're in the middle of cooking.
"My hands are covered in cake batter, just take some from my back pocket."
"Are you sure it's there? Let me check both pockets." He isn't so much searching for coins as much as he's feeling and practically groping your ass. Seriously you start to wonder how it's taking him 20 minutes to find something that's right there.
Pervert! Solomon who keeps his room colder than usual when you come over for magic lessons.
"Is it too cold for you MC? I apologise, I kept it this way because some of the potions have bad reactions to heat but if you'd like-"
"I'm absolutely fine, Solomon. You worry about me too much." You smile at him reassuringly, not noticing how his eyes are so eagerly trained at your nipples perking up through your thin t-shirt.
Boner Bonus points if you allow him to hug you for some warmth. His fingers will definitely brush against your chest more than once.
Pervert! Beel who seems to make a mess whenever he's trying to help you in the kitchen. "I'm so sorry, MC. I didn't mean to spill it on your hands!"
"It's okay Beel, it's just some cream and syrup. I can just wash it off right away."
"But it's such a waste. Please allow me." He starts to thoroughly lick your fingers and you shake your head and let him knowing his fixations on food.
But he can't help it - you taste so good. He secretly wonders what you might taste like down there, drooling at the thought.
Pervert! Levi who has taken to sitting on pillows Japanese style while gaming and offers you the same. Sure enough you don't even suspect an ulterior motive.
"Did you get inspired by some human world anime again? Careful though - your legs and butt will start to cramp after a while."
"MC you're too gracious! Caring so much for an otaku like me!"
After you leave, he promptly takes the pillow you were sitting on and puts it in his bathtub. He's going to sleep on it ofc. Your scent on it helps him jerk off better.
Pervert! Belphie who now asks you to rub his belly till he falls asleep. "What's so funny?" He asks as you giggle at his request.
"Since when do you need help falling asleep?"
"I care about the quality of my sleep. And I sleep better this way."
Fortunately you believe him and don't suspect that it's because it's the closest he can get you to fondling his dick. He has such a difficult time holding in his moans and hard ons, every time your hands go even a bit lower than usual.
Pervert! Barbatos who got into sewing clothes as a hobby and specifically likes making them for you now. But you never understand why he needs to take same measurements over and over again.
"Oh? This is a different kind of design, MC. So the measurements will vary from before."
"Always making new things aren't you? You never fail to suprise Barbatos." You smile at him admiring.
The tightening of the tape around your chest and crotch are subtle. He can hardly keep it together when you praise him after all. But he has to if he wants to skim his hands over your body like this again.
Pervert! Diavolo who takes you on such long drives that you always doze off in the front seat, waking up apologetic for missing so much of the journey.
"Hahaha, it's okay, MC. We've been on this same road lots of times. I assure you, you didn't miss anything. And I like that you feel safe to sleep in my presence."
"But still, I'm so sorry, it feels disrespectful..." You apologize, not even knowing how hard he is in his pants right now.
Afterall, he can keep squeezing your beautiful thighs, maybe let his hands wander between them and imagine himself fucking you in the back seat as much as he wants, when you're asleep.
Pervert! Simeon who will have noone except you as his muse for art classes. And the themes just keep getting more erotic each time.
"Are you sure you're okay with this, MC? You don't have to do it if you're not comfortable-"
"Nonsense, Simeon. I feel super comfortable if it's you. You're a true artist after all." You say as you lay on his bed wrapped up only in bedsheets, exposing your entire back and legs.
If only you knew, this angel has thoughts dirtier than most demons. How he's practically fucking you with his eyes. How he's definitely going to jerk off into those bedsheets, moaning your name.
Pervert! Satan who loves teaching you things - standing right behind you, guiding your hands to make latte-art, or trying a new style of painting.
"That's it, nice and slow. Look how much you've improved, MC." He beams at the cute kitty in the coffee cup.
"All thanks to you, Satan. I can't wait to learn more from you." You smile at him earnestly.
He almost feels guilty for tricking you this way, but the way your hands feel in his, and your ass feels against his groin is so addicting. One of these days, he wishes could teach you to be on all fours and take his length in your pretty little mouth.
Pervert! Asmo who loves keeping your eyes on him and noone else. From elaborate performances to petty staring contests, he cannot have enough of your gaze.
"Oh you're turning red in the face, Asmo. Did I manage to flutter the heart of the Avatar of Lust?" You lean forward smiling.
"You're my only weakness after all, MC. It's your fault for making me this way." He almost moans.
You laugh and mock apologize at his antics but you don't know he's been grinding like an animal on his seat, and creamed his pants under your innocent gaze. Your undivided attention just turns him on so much.
Pervert! Lucifer who makes his desires too obvious sometimes. He'll regret it in the morning and take you to dinner to apologize but not until he's already done something dirty.
"Lucifer, it's 2 am. You need to throw away that coffee and sleep." You're practically dragging him to bed.
"Fine. I'll go sleep if you'll stay in my room tonight." He says knowing you'll comply. You care too much for your own good. He's not even going to let you sleep on the couch, no you have to stay wrapped up in his arms.
You might wake upto him groaning your name in his sleep and you might mistake it for a nightmare - not knowing how he's balls deep inside you in his dreams.
Pervert! Thirteen who likes how excited you get over her newest inventions and keeps making more things to call you over.
"And this little baby and can throw pie at people's faces without ever missing. Guaranteed headshot." She smiles proud.
"This would be so useful in a cafeteria food fight and then get banned right after its glory. But I so wanna use it!" You whine.
She loves how much you appreciate her inventions. She is secretly working on a 'pleasure' device scented like her to give you - she hopes you'll like it just as much.
Pervert! Mephisto who is actually taken aback by your duality. You're such a mischievous little imp usually but turn so well-mannered in front of Diavolo's esteemed guests.
"So even you can be prim and proper sometimes? If only you could maintain this on the daily." He huffs.
You laugh and mock-bow in front of him. "Of course, anything for you my dearest lord. Would you like to dance with this proper human while you can?"
He blushes at the sudden offer. Why you little- how dare you tempt him like this. You can't complain about him gripping you somewhere improper or too tight. You deserve this for your attitude.
Pervert! Raphael who is still navigating new feelings of lust he's never felt before he met you. Why his heart skips every time you fall asleep on his shoulder or why he felt a sudden warmth at the pit of his stomach feeling you breath so softly into his neck.
"Thank you for helping me tidy the classroom, MC. I didn't even know where the cleaning supplies were."
"That's alright. It's more fun with two people anyway and wait Raphael there's a bucket over the-" The fresh bucket of water already spilled splashing all over both of you.
You immediately fetched a towel to help him dry up but he couldn't stop staring at you instead. With the uniform sticking to your body like and the water glistening on your exposed skin - why was he so enthralled? Why does he feel a strange pulsing between his legs as you hover over him?
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strwberri-milk · 3 months
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Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!
im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3
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Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.
He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.
His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.
When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.
The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.
Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.
"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.
"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.
"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.
"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.
"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.
You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.
"Where are you right now? Home?"
"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"
"I'll be there soon."
He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.
Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.
He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.
He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.
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Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.
He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.
You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.
You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.
Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.
You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.
He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.
When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.
"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?
"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.
"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.
"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."
He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.
You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.
"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.
"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."
You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.
"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"
He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.
"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.
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Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.
He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.
It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.
Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.
Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.
"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.
Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.
"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.
"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"
"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.
You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.
"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."
"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.
"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."
Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.
"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.
"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.
"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."
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wonijinjin · 8 months
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being in a relationship with kim mingyu: silly headcanons
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synopsis: my silly thoughts on how it would be to live and be in a relationship with mingyu, @babyleostuff thank you for helping me list these and listening to me talking about these scenarios i loved it
word count: 1.2k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairing: mingyu x f! reader | warnings: mentions of dresses, food, diets, reader being overall somewhat smaller than mingyu
- okay so mingyu is a goofy man we all know this, but here are some things about living with him and being his girlfriend that would make you go crazy (in both good and bad ways)
- he would scare the shit out of you every morning since his little confused puppy face and messy hair directly in your face would be such a shocker every single time you wake up in the same bed as him, especially if you went to bed alone and he snuck into bed during the night if he worked late. this would result in you screaming you head off and him being so surprised aswell he might even fall off the bed lmao.
- sleeping with him also includes him being the most comfortable pillow ever, but there would be a price you would have to pay for it; he would get on top of you during the night, kinda like a nice free weighed blanket, except the fact that he would be so heavy after some time you couldn’t breathe and would have to hit him continuously until he wakes up.
- this man would definitely be a pathological liar when it comes to stories about him being brave over something, like my man literally caught a single fly or bug and he would be like “yeah that’s right i tamed a 10 meters long python.” also he would not shut up about it, bringing it up every time there’s a chance, but when you would actually need help getting rid of an insect he would run away crying like the baby he is.
- he would love to cook for you, but would turn into the biggest clutz when you are in charge in the kitchen; you would be peacefully cooking when he would come into the room upon smelling the fruit of your hard work, making everything go wrong; the moment this man appears next to you with the sentence “oh my god i wanna help you you know how much i love cooking, especially with you.” your peace and quiet would be over, in the end resulting in you having to clean up all the mess he made while he sits on the couch as a punishment after you scolded him. (after this incident you would probably never allow him to help you cook, only the other way around)
- he adores sundresses and overall cutesy summer clothes, you cannot tell me otherwise, he would be hypnotised by the way the dress looked on you, trying to match his shirt with it. he would be spinning you around all day to some kind of music, loving the way the dress flows, how the fabric feels on his hands, and how cute you look in his arms, really making the moment feel like a real fairytale.
- mingyu’s brain works faster than light so it is really hard to understand what he says, since he’s always talking with such speed which would result in you having to stop him every 5 minutes to tell him to slow down and him being confused about why you cannot keep up with him, saying that he always talks like this. (mingyu babes that doesn’t mean it was understandable before lmao)
- another thing connected to him speaking is his cute little lisp; you would always tease him for it (as you do for everything else) in a cute way and he would be such a drama queen saying that you were the meanest, when in reality you loved it so much you could burst from affection every time this man opened his mouth.
- he would insist on driving you everywhere; doesn’t matter if you have your drivers licence or not mingyu would love you to be his passenger princess. he would put on sunglassses to seem cool while he is driving with one hand, his other on your thigh, looking at you from time to time while you stared at him shamelessly, drooling over how good he looked while driving.
- no matter how much of an organised person you are, you would probably have little arguments with him about you not washing the dishes right after cooking or leaving your books or other personal belongings scattered around the house. he just cannot help it, he is a clean freak.
- mingyu would try to be romantic by catching you off guard with a kiss, but would bump his forehead with yours and would have to tend to the ache in both of your temples after the incident, making him sulky and worried about you, and of course ashamed that he was clumsy yet again. (don’t worry you would laugh it off, making it up to him by giving him many many kisses)
- people would always assume that he wore the pants in the relationship but in reality i think your roles would be very well balanced. he may be a gentle person but he wouldn’t be afraid to speak up on your behalf if needed, always prioritising your protection.
- he would let you do his skincare to cheer you up when you had a bad day, since your stress relief comes from babying him (like fr who wouldn’t want to baby this cutie?), so he would be patiently sitting while you applied every serum and sheet mask existing on the planet to his face.
- his hugs are one of the best things in the world, being engulfed by his large frame would always be so comforting, him letting you inhale the scent of his cologne for as long as you need.
- he is a gymrat as everyone knows, and he would insist on you going to the gym with him at least once. you don’t have to worry if you are not a gym girly, because he wants you there to help him; he would ask you to sit on his back while doing pushups, or to get on top of some of the equipment, basically he would use you as human weights, kissing you every time he came up to where you were positioned, sheepishly smiling at you as you watched his big muscles work in awe.
- he would get so shy and giggly if you complimented him, like he has a big ego of course he knows he is handsome, but if the praise comes from you he would be melting and giggling like the babygirl he is.
- he loves to eat and loves meat; finding him grilling randomly in the backyard of the house at like midnight wouldn’t be a surprising occurrence.
- mingyu would stuff you full of food every chance he gets, no questions asked. he eats very well as we know (as he should!) because well for those muscles and the amount of workouts he does he needs the energy to be fair; whenever he eats you need to have a bite with him too, even if you say you are dieting or aren’t hungry he doesn’t care; he just feeds you. you cannot escape especially if he is cooking for you.
- he loves to drink from time to time so on occasions when you would join him he would forget how big of a man he really is and would definitely try to lean on you for support as he would be so drunk, only to realise that he is basically crushing you to death lmao.
- he is a man with a childlike heart, so he would try to fit his tall ass figure into such small spaces, which would definitely result in needing your help to pull him out of like children’s playground swings and stuff, poor guy would be whining so loudly about his everything hurting the next day.
- lastly and most importantly; he loves you so much he would let you do (and get him do to) anything without hesitation, and whatever bad thing you did he would never get angry at you, you are just his baby and to him you cannot do any harm even if you told him you burned his house off.
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yenqa · 4 months
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SO AMERICAN! | where you meet tsukishima and—wow you are so american.
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♫ – currently playing… olivia rodrigo
warnings – profanity, reader is learning japanese and is american if u couldnt tell! reader is called pretty
pairing – tsukishima x fem!reader
a/n – hashtag semi hiatus! anyways i was reading an ao3 fic while listening to this song and it sparked smth in me so enjoy! (did my research on culture shocks btw guys!!)
word count – 571
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You’re smiling at him like you know him.
Tsukishima doesn’t know you. He’s just seen you for the first time when you walked into the gym–presumably to become the manager for the club next year.
It’s starting to worry him, you haven’t been properly introduced, only your eyes have met a few times, yet you don’t hesitate to smile every time you make contact.
You’re not in the same class. But he can tell by your mannerisms that you’re a foreign student. You talk a little louder than most, and your Japanese is accented but not enough where he can’t understand.
He knows he’s spot on when you go to greet Daichi with a handshake, he can see you firmly grip his hand which catches him off guard.
Y/n. That’s your name.
It’s a pretty name he admits to himself, you’re a pretty girl so it fits. He doesn’t acknowledge that–or tries not to.
You’re standing in front of the whole team being introduced to everyone, waving and smiling like you’re old friends.
He can see from his peripheral vision when they all bow that you’re unsure of what to do. You awkwardly tilt your body down too, and he lets out a quiet chuckle.
It’s cute.
He’s disgusted by himself, he thinks that something is up with him.
Shaking his head, he starts his warmups.
He tries not to keep his eye on you, but he can’t help it.
You’re holding a clipboard now, there's a paper on it he can’t see, but he can tell by your furrowed brows that you’re still struggling a bit with reading.
Making an excuse for himself, he walks up to where his water bottle–luckily right next to where you are, turns around and takes a sip of it. He’s standing right next to you now, reading the same paper as him.
Your eyes scan left to right on the paper, he laughs.
Whipping your head over, you ask, “Is something wrong?”
“Right to left, we read right to left.” He speaks a little slower than his usual pace—hoping you wouldn’t be offended.
You aren’t a smile grows on your face instead. “Oh my gosh–I was wondering what was wrong this whole time!” You laugh at yourself, thanking him quietly before restarting, eyes moving right to left this time.
“You’re so american.” He mutters, a chuckle comes out of him as he says it.
“Is that a compliment?” You ask, the paper is discarded now, your full attention is on him.
“Whatever you want it to be.”
You roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder with no real force behind it, “Whatever Kei.”
He doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve called him Kei instead of his surname. He brushes it off as another mistake, you’re new to the country after all.
Later he hears you complimenting “Kageyama and Hinata”, your voice is still louder than what a normal student speaks, and you’re gushing about their skills, to their faces. But then he looks over at you, and you two make eye contact.
He almost misses how you wink at him, it's a teasing one but it still makes his heart flutter. Then as quickly as you looked over, you looked away, a bright smile present on your face while you talked to his other teammates.
It’s definitely not fair of you to make him feel this much. Because he might just fall in love.
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yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
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slutfics · 5 months
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ᥫ᭡. FATHER HEADCANONS .ᐟ
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characters: obito uchiha, kakashi hakate, itachi uchiha & neji hyuga.
warnings. none. fluff, domestic life, not proofread.
writers note. how i think they’ll act as fathers, kakashi isn’t married i believe and the other ones are dead, so i just wanted to make a little something for my beloveds, especially for obito since he’s been nothing but a nuisance in my head. I love him.
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OBITO UCHIHA !
he’s definitely the ‘big family’ type of guy, probably would want at least four kids, five the highest. yea, he likes having little spawns, even if he doesn’t look like it.
he doesn’t yell or spank his children, however there’s been times when he has yelled because they were acting out.
when he’s irritated, his children would know it’s time to stop, his voice deepens and becomes stern and he has a look that makes them stop whatever behavior they were doing. he could be scary, but other than that he’s a chill dad.
his ‘time-out’ methods are putting his kids in the corner or extending their chores. sometimes he’ll make them clean the front yard and bathroom.
he actually smacks his kids over the head when they don’t listen or throw his slippers at them. depending the age of his children, let’s say ten through fifteen, they’ll think it’s funny before he has them cleaning something they don’t wanna do.
his uchiha genes are stronger than yours, they’ll have his eyes and hair color and depending how many kids you have with him, only couple would have your hair color and eyes (the skin color will possibly slip in). they’re also short tempered.
he likes training his kids and is often proud of them when they finally have it down.
he keeps all of their colorings they’ve made him, he keeps them somewhere safe so they can’t get ruined or lost. (he might go bonkers if they get lost).
he’s a very overprotective dad, his children have to be home at a certain time. he will personally hunt them down if they’re not home by the time sunsets.
obito spoils his children but not to the point where they don’t understand ‘no’ he will put his foot down and doesn’t tolerate tantrums. he also doesn’t have favorites, he knows that isn’t right, especially as a parent, all of his children are treated equally.
wise words from obito to his children: “get your ass down from there right now.” “keep acting like lunatic and I’ll send you home and you won’t come out there until dinner, do you understand?”
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KAKASHI HAKATE !
kakashi would only want two kids, a boy and a girl. he sees this as a perfect amount, he’s fine with children, he just doesn’t want a zoo of them, and plus he’ll probably have grandchildren in future.
he’s a very chill and patient dad, he knows how to handle his children and they listen pretty good, however.. they’re sassy and he knows they got that from him and he refuses to admit it. his kids are pretty mean, but they mean well.
he also doesn’t spank his kids, but he does make his kids clean the entire house and makes sure there isn’t a single speck of dust flying around.
kakashi knows his children’s interests and will personally try to understand it, even if some of them are a bit weird.
he’s the type to tell his children that santa won’t bring them presents because they’re misbehaving and won’t listen to him. he’ll also tell them that the boogieman will drag them out of bed by their feet and take them away. (they haven’t slept in their own room for a week).
he likes to pinch his children cheeks, he thinks it’s adorable. he also ruffles their hair, especially if his children possessed his beautiful spiky hair.
kakashi’s genes are strong, but it’s a well mixture of yours, if you have moles, freckles or whatever, your children with kakashi will have them.
there’s been times where he doesn’t know how to handle temper tantrums, the only thing that comes to mind is to send his kids to their room to have them scream it out. (they’ll fall asleep afterwards and by the time they wake up dinner is already done.)
kakashi is a good listener, he knows how to handle his kids emotions and is there for them. however there’s been times he has to be straightforward with them, he knows he can’t always sugarcoat things just because they’re his kids.
kakashi may be chill, but he does have strict rules for his children to follow. he has tied his child to a tree and will do it again if he has to.
kakashi’s wise words to his beloved children: “oh! is that so? would you like me to tell mommy what you have been doing? no, then knock it off.” “you are in big trouble when we get home, you are to clean the bathroom, do I make myself clear?”
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ITACHI UCHIHA !
itachi, the gentle soul that he is. he’s also someone who will have two children, genders are irrelevant to him, he’s just happy to have a family, even if his little spawns have him stressing and worried.
he’s the type of dad that you wouldn’t want to be mad, they know it’s time to settle down when he’s upset. itachi doesn’t have to say anything but look at them, and you wouldn’t know if he’s mad, but they do, they know when he’s pissed and that has them shutting up within an instant.
itachi doesn’t lay a hand on them nor does he yell, but he does put them in time-out or send them to their room and have them think about what they have done.
itachi is a rather patient dad, and if his kids are toddlers he would know how to handle them and calm them down. he likes taking them on walks and have them cry on his shoulder as he tells them a little story or something to have them keep their mind occupied. if that doesn’t help, he’ll try putting them down for a nap.
he likes making them their foods. he’s the one who packs their lunch for school and makes them breakfast in the morning, he also makes sure that his kids have healthy meals. yes, he allows his children to eat junk food, just not all the time. he wants his kids to grow big and strong, as he likes to tell them.
he likes listening to them talk about their day at school or just have a casual conversation with them, he really likes quality time.
his children don’t get bullied in school, he’s scared them off, as much as he’s a gentle man, he’s still a scary guy and doesn’t tolerate other children bullying his own. he doesn’t like seeing them cry. however, he will speak the child’s parents in hopes to settle things.
when his kids suggested a game, he lets them win, especially if it’s hide n seek, he knows exactly where his kids are hiding and he hides in the most basic spots for them. (he just really likes hearing their squeals and giggles when they find him.
if his children are older, he would like to know where they are heading off, he doesn’t restrict them from having fun with their friends, he just doesn’t want anything bad happening to them when they are out. they have a certain time they have to be back home. will not tolerate back talk.
he does ground his children, the longest time they have been grounded was three months and no, he doesn’t forget and will make sure they learn they lesson. he loves them, but he will teach them that their actions have consequences.
itachi’s wise words to his children: “you are misbehaving, would like me to grounded you? then stop that.” “I will not be teaching you that, you have not been listening to be for the whole day.”
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NEJI HYUGA !
neji is aware how difficult it will be to rise kids, so he’ll possibly have two or three kids, genders don’t matter to him, he made them and he’s going to raise them the best he can. there’s a lot of things that he doesn’t tolerate with them and that is back talk, he doesn’t like back talk, at all.
neji definitely spanks his kids, is it hard? no, not at all, but it’s enough to sting and he’s well aware how heavy his hand could be. he also has a major soft spot for them, so spanking his kids isn’t often.
his byakugan does actives when he’s pissed off with them and that could be a scary sight for them and they know they’re in deep trouble, especially when they did something they weren’t supposed to do. his children don’t purposely make him mad, it’s horrifying to them.
neji doesn’t like when his kids cry, it makes his heart pang and he tries his best to comfort them.
his the one who bandages them up when they get hurt and will lecture them as he does so. he knows how reckless children can get, especially when they are unattended. sometimes he’ll have to supervise them.
when he trains his kids, he does not overwork them, once he sees them tired and barely holding themselves up, he’ll either stop or have them rest up a bit before continuing. he makes them tea and food, or give them water then have them shower.
his children have a bedtime routine, his kids need to be well rested and will not stay up to early, he has them study occasionally so they know what they are doing.
he’s the type of parent to pinch his kids arms, that’s a warning sign for them to knock their shits off or they’re in big trouble once they return home. or sometimes he’ll simply just look at them and they’re already know they’re in trouble.
if his children were to snitch on another and they’re yelling who did and who’s denying, everyone is in trouble and they are to stand in the corner until he says they can leave and if they start acting up, he sends them to their room to take a nap or he’ll train them.
neji is a good dad and he’s a bit on the strict side when comes to them, however he doesn’t prevent them from doing things they want to do, as long as it’s not criminal or cause them serious harm. he’s also the type to tell his children to get up back and try again or tell them to walk it off.
neji’s wise words to his kids: “do you want me to give you pow-pow? then stop this nonsense.” “get in the corner and think about what you did.”
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© SLUTFICS. . . please do not repost, steal, copy or publish my works on other platforms, however reblogging and ♡ are greatly appreciated.
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wosohours · 12 days
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commitment - leah williamson x reader
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You always heard about “don’t date athletes” and “athletes are players," but of course when good advice comes your way, you ignore it.
It was a bit insane to think that you could start talking to the one girl who could not be bothered with being in a committed relationship. That gut feeling telling you “Don’t get too close”, “Don’t entertain her”, or “Don’t fall in too deep” but you once again ignored it.
Honestly, you could not help it. It was like a craving to be around Leah all the time. It almost felt like an obsession of wondering, “What is she doing?”, “Where is she?”, “Is she thinking about me?”
Constantly checking your phone to see if she messaged you. Looking at her social media every hour on the hour. You were in deep and you knew it would eventually lead to hurting yourself. Yet, being someone with the typical heart-eye delusions, the thoughts in the back of your mind kept saying, “She will change for you.”
Trying to distance yourself never worked because every time you were at a safe enough distance she kept pulling you right back in. Leah knew that she had some type of hold on you and constantly used that to her advantage.
Just last week she was barely texting and calling you back. You understood that she was not obligated to do so since you two were not officially together, but you were most definitely a little…maybe even a lot more than “just friends.” The dates, the romantic gestures, and the PDA all confirmed that but you could never understand her constant pushing and pulling.
Leah knows exactly how to make it up to you though. She texted three days ago saying how sorry she was not keeping in contact, how she misses you like crazy and how she planned a whole day for just the two of you. You were strong this time, wanting her to feel how she makes you feel by not texting back and declining her calls those three days. Yet one slip of weakness and here you are right back in her bed.
____________________
“I missed you so much you have no ideas.” Leah tells you as she feathers kisses all over your face as you both lay in bed naked.
“Oh really? I would not have guessed.” you said as you sat up from her chest and moved away from her a little. She froze looking at you with that cute frown that is usually stuck on her face and said, “Baby I told you I am truly sorry, I really mean it. I have just been a bit busier since the launch of my third book. You know this.”
Leah wraps an arm around your waist pulling you back down closer to her. “I am here now though, aren’t I?” You hesitantly relax into her and say, “I know but a simple text or any sort of reply would have been nice. I just missed you.” You can feel Leah smiling against your hairline after she lays a soft kiss there. “I missed you too babe.”
After a moment of you two just enjoying each other's company she says quietly, “How about we get up, you come shower with me, and then we can go out and get some breakfast?”
____________________
Once again the cycle repeats itself with Leah distancing herself. No longer answering calls or texts. Although it hurt, you thought it would be best to leave things the way they were to protect your peace, even pushing yourself to be petty enough to block her number. It was almost like you were putting her up to the test to see how far she would go to get your attention.
Although she did swipe up on one of your Instagram stories of you in a tight shirt with no bra saying, “I’ve seen it, now delete it,” but you ignored that as well.
____________________
Since being friends with Leah for many years you have grown closer with some of the Arsenal girls and with them loving your company, a couple of them have asked you to join them in celebrating the end of their USA tour at a local pub. People are either mingling by the bar, doing karaoke, or sitting around the reserved private table in the back.
Currently, you are at the bar getting a drink and you can feel Leah’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.
“What’s going on with you two? You have been more grumpy than usual,” Katie teases Leah as she sits in the empty seat next to her. “She's ignoring me,” Leah sighs, still looking at you.
“What have you done this time?” Alessia asks from across the table. “I’ve been kind of avoiding her again. I don’t mean to but I don’t know what I’m doing.” Leah replies.
“Have you tried talking to her about how you feel? Do you actually want to have a serious relationship with her?” Katie asks.
“No, I haven't talked to her. Every time I try to talk about us my mouth goes dry and all of a sudden I can’t think, and of course, I want something serious with her I’m just nervous,” Leah shakes her head and looks down at her fidgeting fingers.
Lia, who has been listening to the conversation from her seat next to Alessia, speaks up, “Well you might need to tell her soon because the bartender is flirting with her heavily.”
This causes Leah’s head to shoot up in your direction and sees the bartender smiling at you and reaching her hand over to rest on your forearm. “Yeah, not happening.” Leah quickly stands up from her seat and pushes past people to make her way over to you.
When she gets to you she gently wraps an arm around your waist not to startle you and pulls you back into her chest. She gives her glare that she usually saves for the pitch to the bartender, making her quickly release your arm and turn her attention to another customer waiting at the other end of the bar.
Leah smiles when you relax into her and she whispers in your ear, “You’ve been avoiding me.” You slowly turn around until you are face to face with her and say. “Hurts doesn’t it?”
“I deserve that. Why don’t we go have a chat and I will explain myself?” Leah says, moving her hand to grab yours. “Really? You want to talk now and here?” you scoff.
Leah just nods and gently pulls your hand so that you follow her out to the back patio of the pub. She sits on a bench that is a little bit away from the loud building and pulls your hand down to sit next to her.
“You know you shouldn’t just flirt with anyone, she could've just been charming you into being her next one nightstand,” she says.
“Hmm, pot meets kettle huh? You would know,” you scoff pulling your hand away from hers.
“No, I wouldn’t, because we are more than that,” she firmly replies.
“It sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”
“I know,” she sighs, focusing on her shoes, “but I can explain.”
You look at her and slightly nod your head giving her the indication to keep talking.
“I love everything about us. I love how we are with each other. How easy it is to be around you and the connection that we have. I’m just scared of the reality of us being together because it seems too good to be true,” she confesses. “Don’t get me wrong I do want to be with you and I am serious about you but there is this nagging feeling in my head that I am going to screw it all up.”
You grab her hands gently and say, “That’s completely understandable Leah, I wish you would have communicated with me about how you felt earlier. However, you can’t make future assumptions about something you or we haven’t even tried yet. Neither of us has any idea of what could happen but it doesn’t mean push away and hide from it.”
You continue, “You are looking too far into the future when you should be focusing on right now. That self-sabotaging brain of yours is going to stall you for great things one day.” you giggle pushing her head away making her laugh too.
After the giggles die down she says, “You are completely right. If you allow me to give this…us another try I am willing to put my all into it. I just ask that you give me that reassurance.”
“I can give you that, but you have to promise to communicate with me.” you nod raising your hand to move a piece of hair out of her face.
“I promise to communicate my feelings to you,” she replies leaning into your hand.
You smile and stand up from the bench pulling her up with you to give her a hug resting your head against hers. Leah pulls back a bit to give you a few quick pecks on the lips causing you to giggle and move away.
“My girl,” she whispers, pulling you back against her and laying one last kiss on the side of your head.
____________________
Since that day Leah has kept her promise of communicating more and you have kept yours by reassuring her when she needed it. She even asked you to officially be with her a couple weeks later and it had felt as though something shifted in the air.
She was constantly texting, calling, and wanting to be attached to your hip. When you too were with each other in person she would constantly cling to you but you were okay with it since that is what you were wanting from the beginning.
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kamiversee · 7 months
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 3 || The Art of Seduction
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a bit of smut, & sexual tension.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.1k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——"SO WHERE CAN I FIND HIM?" You ask Gojo after a few minutes of continued conversation.
Gojo's now in his sweatpants lying across your bed. He was serious about not going back to Shoko at all and he earned a lovely text from her after he told her he wasn't returning. You managed to sneak a peak a few minutes ago and based on the large paragraph you saw, Shoko definitely cursed Gojo out for ditching her.
"Where can you find him?" Gojo scoffs, his gaze set on your bedroom ceiling. "Sweetheart, what kinda question is that?"
You're glaring at him while you sit beside him, "Uh, a good one? All you did was give me a name and a picture, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?"
Gojo chuckles, finding your constant annoyance with him nothing short of amusing. "There's something called the internet. A name and a picture are all you need nowadays. Geto Suguru, that's his full name."
"Oh come on, this is all a get?" You say with a tired huff. For a second you're disappointed but before you let your frustrations get to you, you lean toward Gojo and give him an innocent little smile. "Can't you give me a little more than that, like where I can find him in real life and not online like some stalker...?" You ask.
Blue irises shoot over to your nearing frame. His gaze dampens with understanding as he eyes you, "Mmmh... How about I give you his Instagram?" Gojo says almost teasingly.
You shift onto your side a bit, holding up your body with your elbow before inching even closer to him. So close that your breasts press up against his arm. Then, you reach your other arm over and place a hand on his chest, tracing small little shapes on his skin.
Your eyes are almost begging him for more, "Can I get more than that? Please?" You ask, your voice nearly a whine.
Damn the way you make his body twitch because of your pleas. Gojo nibbles on his lower lip and he smirks a bit, "Why should I give you more than that? I'm already paying you to seduce him. Never said I'd help you find him."
You bite back the groan that tries to escape you. Gojo is infuriating but you shove your negative thoughts on him down as you push your body up and suddenly toss a leg over him, straddling him. You take a seat right over his crotch and earn an immediate deep groan from Gojo.
You're only wearing his t-shirt so sitting on top of him leaves one layer of clothing between your bodies. Gojo struggles to control himself with the feeling of your bare warm cunt sitting just above his cock, his sweatpants the only thing in between you two.
A hand is pressed into his abdomen as you lean forward a little, "Satoru," You purr, your tone making his breath hitch ever so slightly. "Just a little more, please?" You utter softly.
He opens his mouth but his response falls off his tongue when you shift your hips and rub over his clothed length. Gojo sighs and turns his head away from you, "Damn you..." He curses, annoyed by the sensual effect you have on him.
You rub yourself in a backward motion while leaning your torso forward to him. "Is that a yes?" You hum.
Gojo rolls his eyes and slowly swivels his head back in your direction, "No." He replies coldly.
You pout and tip your head to the side, rolling your hips over his crotch as if that's supposed to help you convince him. Even though the two of you just had sex and you're a bit too tired to go another round, clearly the only language Gojo understands is one spoken through sensuality.
Another hand slips over his bare chest and you gently press your fingers into his firm abs, his skin tense to your every touch. Your body leans forward some more and you arch your back a little, furthering the friction of your crotch over his.
"Please?" You whisper in the best tone you can to convince him.
Gojo grunts and his head threatens to turn from you again until you move your hand from his abdomen to his chin and pull him back. He doesn't know what kind of effect or hold you have on him but fuck is it working.
"Fuck, alright, alright..." Gojo grumbles, "What do you want? His class schedule?"
You grin, "That and maybe somewhere he usually hangs out. Y'know, so I can approach him in a normal setting and not like some creepy whore..."
The male below you chuckles, "Right. Well uh, Suguru usually-"
"Or," You cut off, rolling your hips over him again. "You can just introduce me to him yourself..."
Gojo takes in a crisp breath of air before moving his hands over your thighs. He tries to hide it but you can clearly tell he's struggling to control himself. It'd be a lie to say the man wasn't having thoughts of you bouncing on his cock right now. He swallows hard and you feel his fingertips press into your skin firmly.
A sudden smile spreads across his face and his eyes drop down to your waist, "Suguru's gonna have a fuckin' field day with you..." Gojo says with a slight scoff. "Y'know what, sure. I'll introduce you to him."
You flash a big thankful smile, "Really?"
"Mhm," Gojo hums deeply, his hands sliding up to your hips.
"Thank you," You say before another thought crosses your mind. "Oh, can you also tell me what kinda things he likes?"
Gojo's eyes are no longer on your face, most of his attention has gone to the way you look and feel on top of him. The hands he has on your hips slip under the shirt you're wearing and his soft skin presses into you.
"What kind of things he likes? Listen, I'm not just gonna sit here and tell you every-" Gojo is cut off by you grinding over him again and you watch him let out a hefty sum of air, almost as if he panted. "Fuck, stop moving so much..." He whispers.
You arch a brow, "Hm? What was that?" You respond playfully even though you hear him clearly.
The look in his eyes is serious, "Stop. Moving." He commands.
"I'm just trying to get comfortable..." You mumble innocently before wiggling into his crotch a little.
Gojo brushes off your comment with another eye roll. "What uh, what'd you want me to tell you again? Things Suguru likes?" He diverts.
A little grin takes over your features as you notice Gojo's being more obedient now. "Mhm, like maybe what kinda clothes or things in a woman he looks for?"
Gojo lifts his hips up a little, pressing himself into you and earning a jolt of tension to scurry up your spine. You ignored his length growing hard before due to your other movements but because he lifts into you, you can't exactly ignore the bulge you feel below you.
"He likes tight clothes on women if I remember correctly. And uh-," You rotate your hips around in a slow circle, and Gojo nearly moans mid-sentence. "Jesus, uhm... Fuck, what the hell was I saying again?"
The way you effectively distract him is amusing, it's what leads you to keep teasing him the way you are. "You were... telling me the things Geto likes. C'mon Satoru, focus." You utter sweetly.
His eyes glide up along your body until he settles on your face. "I don't need to tell you anything else, he'll like you. Trust me." He assures you.
Good enough. Seems like you're not half bad at seducing men. Maybe the problem was you going to find the right ones all along...
However, Gojo is a special case since he claims to have already had the hots for you from months ago. And since he says Geto will like you, you'll take his word for it.
With that, you lean back and relax on top of him. Gojo's eyes are a bit hazy in lust and the lack of friction over his erection is slowly driving him insane. You flinch when you hear the man call your name out in a tone filled with pure desperation, almost high-pitched with a fore-throbbing whine.
"Enough about Suguru," Gojo breathes out, "Finish what you started pretty girl." He requests.
You feign cluelessness, "I didn't start anything though?" You hum, chuckling a little.
That frosty gaze of his is stirring chills to slide down your spine. "Alright," He scoffs, "Slide back a bit then."
You stare for a second before moving, purposefully rolling over him as you move backward. Once you're no longer sitting on his crotch, you watch as Gojo shamelessly moves his hand down to palm himself.
Your lashes flutter in disbelief when he makes direct eye contact with you and pulls his cock out of his sweats. Damn the way your eyes shoot down instantly, your gaze met with an embarrassing leak of precum glazing over his tip.
His hand travels down his throbbing length, moving to relieve himself right in front of you. "Are you..." You blink to see if the sight of Goio stroking his length will disappear. It doesn't. "Are you jerking off? Right in front of me??" You huff.
Gojo smirks and his grip on himself grows tighter, "Fuck... No, I'm not agh-, jerking off in front of you. I'm jerking off to you." He corrects with a slight groan.
"Pervert..." You whisper loosely as your eyes remained glued to his cock.
That was just inside you? It's so... long. You're almost mesmerized by his hand movements, watching Gojo pull up and swirl his thumb over his tip with a very quiet whine he hopes you don't hear (you do).
His pulls only become quicker the more you stare and it doesn't take much for him to come close to an orgasm, especially with the way he sees your mouth watering.
Gojo moans your name out and you look up to his face. "Y'see what you do to me?" He pants, "F-Fuck, do me a favor..."
You think you get butterflies in reaction to his words. Again, perhaps you really are good at seducing men. "What is it Satoru?" You ask softly.
"Spit on it f'me," He huffs, "Please?"
Water is already being welled up in your mouth and you don't even hesitate to lower yourself to him slightly, spitting on his flushed tip just as he requested. Gojo's strokes become faster and he's panting and trying his best not to moan or whine.
His efforts fly out the window when you go further and push your tongue to his tip, just to get the slightest taste. Gojo lets out the filthiest moan when you wrap your lips around him and slip your tongue through the slit of his cock.
"Shit-," He chokes and his eyes almost roll back despite you hardly doing anything. "W-Wait I'm-," Again, Gojo is unable to speak and you're surprised when you pull your mouth off of him and he cums right then and there.
Right on your face too. You closed your eyes fast enough but Gojo didn't fail to get his seed on your tongue, lips, some on your nose, and even a bit all the way up above your eyebrow. The effect you have on the poor man is truly embarrassing.
Carefully, you open your eyes and blink a few times as you render the fact that he just came on your face.
Meanwhile, Gojo is dazed. He wants to take a picture so bad-- your pretty face decorated in his cum. It does something to him. He knows you'd never let him though, he's already got a video of you playing with yourself but this is just...
Well, it's worse but that's not why he wants a picture. Gojo wants to have this image of you so that he can go back to it later and so that he'll never be able to forget the scene of you decorated in his cum. "Fuck, I'm..." Gojo lets out a breathy laugh, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to uh..."
"Cum on my face?" You say slightly annoyed. A warning would've been nice, even though he couldn't get it out in time.
You raise a hand to wipe it off. "W-Wait," Gojo calls, causing you to pause. He beckons you to him with two fingers and you raise a brow.
Hesitantly, you crawl over him and toward his face until you're hovering over him. Gojo sits up slightly and you just knew he was about to lick his remnants off your face with how close he got to you. He doesn't though, thankfully.
Instead, Gojo moves to wipe his cum off your face with his hand as if he didn't want you to touch it. His thumb is gentle against your face and the two of you lock eyes as he cleans you.
When he's done, his thumb covered in his white fluids, his gaze drops down to your lips. Gojo smirks and forces your mouth open, wiping the fluids from his thumb onto your tongue. Your eyes widen but you don't fight with him.
"Swallow it for me?" He asks gently. Your stomach churns and you do just that, going as far as to suck on his thumb a little while you swallow down his seed. Gojo smiles proudly and whispers a soft and quiet, "That's my girl."
You try not to get too distracted but there is an emotion that swells in your heart. You ignore it for now but it's still there. "Satoru," You murmur.
"Hm?" He hums in response.
Your mind is thankfully back on the point of the entire interaction, "My money." You remind him.
Gojo chuckles and reaches a hand into the pocket of his sweatpants, pulling out his wallet. Two thousand dollars in straight cash is pulled out of his wallet and he slips it into your hand.
He just walks around with this much money on him?? You wonder to yourself.
"First person on the list complete," Gojo hums. "But," He tilts his head and leans close to your expression, "You can always call me for more."
With a slick smile, you tip your head close to his and give him a little peck, "I know."
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
As for your second target, Geto Suguru, meeting him was... an event.
If you thought that you were nervous when Gojo threatened to expose your video to the school, Geto made you utterly speechless. The breath was stripped right from your throat with how direct and clear he was with how he viewed you and what he wanted.
Gojo is silly with his flirting but Geto? That man is blunt with it. So blunt that you understand why Gojo said he's considered a 'medium' level difficulty.
It was late into the afternoon when Gojo called you over to his apartment. You slipped yourself into a simple yet pretty short black dress that accentuated your body shape.
This was to fit the image of women that Gojo told you Geto was attracted to of course but, you couldn't deny the way the dress lured attention from quite a few people as you made your way to Gojo's place. And it was no help when Gojo opened his front door and his eyes instantly shot down to your body.
"Damn," Is the first thing Gojo utters at the sight of you.
It's been about three days since this whole thing started and today was the day you were set to try seducing Geto. Your blackmailer informed you that the other guys on the list weren't going to be as easy since he won't introduce you to them and it may even take days or weeks to seduce some of them.
That bothered you a bit but hey, at least you have something outside of school to work on-- and you're getting paid.
Like always, your head is tipped back so that you can look up at the tall man wearing that annoying smirk of his. "Hi Gojo," You greet.
The male pouts, "What happened to calling me Satoruuu?"
Since you slept with him, you haven't seen him much so you assumed that calling him by his first name was just a one-time thing. Turns out you were wrong, "Oh, I just thought..."
"C'mon sweetheart, we're friends now aren't we?" Gojo asks.
You fold your arms under your chest and Gojo's vision focuses on your tits instantly. "Are we?" You ask in return.
His blue eyes narrow a bit as he stares, "Mhmm... Yeah," Gojo murmurs, clearly dazed for a second. You didn't know it but he was already having flashbacks of you and him a few days ago-- the way he had you laid out, moaning for him, scratching at his back, and eventually face covered in his-
"Alright then Satoru," You call, breaking him from his thoughts. "Since we're 'friends', you'll let me inside now right?"
Gojo shakes his head a little to part from his mind, "You should let me inside you again," He teases.
Heat rushes to your face and your eyes widen as you glance around the hallway to make sure no one else is there to witness or hear his foolishness. Seeing no one, you turn back to Gojo with a glare.
"I take it back, we're not friends." You say curtly.
Gojo moves a hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt, "Aw, that's hurtful... You're really gonna play hard to get now?" He questions.
Your firm gaze doesn't waver. "Can you just let me inside already?"
He chuckles and moves his body to the side so that you can walk past him. Once you do, Gojo's eyes drop to your ass and he smiles ridiculously hard. "Y'know, I don't mind if you decide to be like that," Gojo tells you.
His words confuse you so you end up turning around to him as he closes his front door. "Be like what?" You ask.
"Hard to get. Doesn't make me any less interested in you," Gojo admits.
Clearly, despite the blackmailing and the whole whoring you out to people he knows, Gojo has some kind of genuine attraction to, interest in, or even crush on you.
With a scoff, you focus yourself on why you're at his place right now, "I'm not concerned with your interests right now Satoru."
He smirks, "Oh?"
"Yeah, I'm interested in Geto's interests as of right now." You tell him confidently.
Gojo nods his head slowly, his eyes flickering behind you for just a moment. "That so?" He hums.
"Yeah..."
"Why's that again?" Gojo suddenly asks.
You blink, "You know why."
Gojo meets your gaze for a second before looking somewhere behind you again, this time his brows furrow a little. "Do I...?" He asks softly.
You turn your head behind you to see what he kept looking at but you're met with an empty hall that leads to other parts of Gojo's apartment.
Turning back to Gojo, you nod, "Yeah, you do. Hell, the only reason I'm here right now is for Geto."
Something inside Gojo pangs at your words but he pushes this feeling off. His mouth opens to respond with something witty but he's cut off.
"Is that so?" Another voice chimes in, the sound coming from your left and Gojo's right.
Both of you turn your head in that direction and your eyes go wide as Gojo's lips move to a smile.
Any words you had fallen off your tongue as you met eyes with Geto Suguru. Half of his raven locks of hair are pulled back into a bun and the remaining flows down his back, ending somewhere in the middle. He's got his fingers curled around a glass of water and his eyes won't leave yours.
Even with the distance between the two of you, you can tell he's tall, probably somewhere around Gojo's height if not the same. Geto seemed to have been lounging around based on the black sweater and sweatpants he's got on.
You've gone awfully quiet since he's said something and you stiffen up where you stand as Geto raises the glass of water to his face and takes a sip, eyes gliding down along your body.
Fuck, he's even sexier in person. You thought to yourself.
"Satoru," Geto calls out, his voice filled with so much affection that even you felt weird hearing it.
If your name had ever been called in such a way you'd melt right then and there. His voice is so sweet, sweet like honey as he calls Gojo's name. Hell, your head turns to the white-haired man to see if he even hears the way his friend calls for him.
Of course, Gojo seems to be used to it. "Hm?" He hums.
"Who's the angel you brought with you?" Geto asks, his eyes still on you but words directed to his friend.
Gojo steps toward you and tosses an arm over your shoulder, "Just a friend of mine." He says simply.
"Do I owe this friend of yours something?" Geto asks in response.
"Not that I know of, no."
"Then why's she 'here for me'?" He questions further.
Gojo's brows raise and he looks down at you, "Well sweetheart? I'm sure you can answer that better than I can."
Great. Gojo did that on purpose. He's putting you on the spot as if he doesn't only have you here to seduce the male standing in the kitchen. You shoot Gojo a quick glare and then look back to Geto, whose eyes are filled with curiosity.
"Uh, w-well," Damnit, Geto's intense eye contact has you stuttering and Gojo's arm over your shoulder, and closeness doesn't help you much. "Satoru promised to introduce me to you..." You murmur.
Gojo sighs at the fact that you threw the spotlight back onto him but luckily, Geto's not interested in talking to Gojo more than he already does. "Yeah?" Geto hums to you.
Your head nods slightly.
"And what's so special about meeting me? Again, do I owe you something...?" He asks, tilting his head slightly and giving you a warm little smile.
Your heart races as you try to come up with a response. Geto's smile is charming, but there's an air of mystery surrounding him that leaves you uneasy and nervous. You take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before speaking.
"No, you don't owe me anything," You reply, trying your best to sound confident. "I just uh..." Shit, what are you supposed to say? You wanted to meet him so you could fuck him for some stupid game Gojo has you playing?
Geto has his head still tilted but he straightens up and sets his glass of water off to the side. His hands go to his pockets casually and he moves to stand near the end of the counter.
One hand rises from his pocket and he beckons you closer with two fingers, "C'mere," Geto calls.
Gojo suddenly removes his arm from your shoulder, "I'll let you two chat," He hums playfully as he walks past you and heads down the hallway.
Your eyes go wide and your heart sinks, "W-Wait don't just leave me-," You sigh frustratedly while Gojo ignores you and dips off around a corner.
Slowly, your sights return to Geto who's still waiting for you to come to him.
"C'mon, I don't bite," He taunts, "Well, unless you want me to-"
"N-No." You squeak. "I just, I'm fine right here. Why do you need me so close?"
"Sorry gorgeous but, I can't hear you too well from all the way over there." He says, this time sending you a friendly smile.
You're hesitant but, you end up walking toward him. He's standing right by the edge of the kitchen counter so you approach the side closest to him. You're close enough to smell the cologne radiating off his body but not close to the point where you're uncomfortable or anything.
"There she is," Geto purrs as you come to a stop. He then extends a hand out for you to shake, "See? I'm not so scary up close am I?"
Scary? No. Ridiculously attractive? Yes. "No, I guess not..." You respond in a soft tone while taking his hand and shaking it.
Geto holds your hand firmly, running his thumb over the surface of your skin. "Now tell me, why'd you wanna meet me again?" He asks, his voice low and captivating.
"Uhm..." You swallow hard. Staring directly into his eyes wasn't easy and you swear your hand was growing all sweaty.
He weighs in closer to you, his face nearing yours a little, "Uhmm...?" Geto mocks, clearly teasing you in a similar way to Gojo.
You blink, "Sorry, you're just..." Don't say it. Don't say it. Do not say-, "Really hot." You blurt out.
He freezes and you feel as though you could die. Then, Geto starts laughing at you, flashing the prettiest smile you think you've ever seen from a man. "Think so?" He utters in the middle of his laughter.
Just go with it. At least you were getting somewhere, "Yeah uh, it's distracting." You continue.
Geto's laughter dies down and he suddenly shifts your hand, tugging it close to his face and moving to kiss over your knuckles. "How do you think you're making me feel?" He says smoothly as he stares into your eyes.
Your knees threaten to go weak. "H-Huh?"
"I mean," Geto lifts away from your hand and tilts his head over to bluntly look at your body, "Coming into my apartment, asking for me, wearing that..." He lists before glancing at your face again, "Looking like that..."
"Like what?" You ask.
He smirks, "My type."
A surge of mixed emotions flush into your face. He's got you flustered already. You're nervous and all hot, "Are you flirting with me right now?" You say with the falsest confidence you could muster.
"I am," Geto hums.
That's great and all but how are you supposed to convince him to fuck you...? Damn Gojo and this dumb ass game of his. You sigh and try your best to have your way with the man before you. Getting to know him isn't important. All that matters is that you sleep with him.
You're lucky there's no time limit on this but still, you want to just get it all over with. Purposefully pushing your chest out further as you straighten up your standing posture, you flash Geto a nice smile.
"Cute." You say slyly.
His brows furrow and he restrains from looking down at your tits. "Cute? You think my flirting is cute?" Geto chuckles.
You nod your head, "Yup."
"You pretending to be confident is what's cute," Geto argues back, having been caught on to your false confidence.
Your body tenses and you think your heart sinks a little. So much for being confident. The man sees right through you. "I wasn't pretending..." You deny.
Geto chuckles, "Sure you weren't. What's your name gorgeous?"
First Gojo with sweetheart and now Geto with gorgeous... Are you ever going to escape these nicknames? Probably not.
You give the man your name and his smile widens.
"That's pretty." He compliments, his words forcing a smile onto your face. "And please, just call me Suguru."
"Are you sure...?" You ask hesitantly.
He nods, "Why wouldn't I wanna hear my name coming from that pretty little mouth of yours?"
You freeze. He's so bold... almost too bold. Maybe he knows. Maybe Gojo told him the whole thing and he knows exactly why you're here.
"Now," Geto begins, breaking you from your thoughts, "You never really answered my question about why you wanted to meet me."
Shit. You still don't have a cover-up for that. You don't know anything about him so how are you supposed to explain why you wanted to meet him? If you knew where he works or what he does for a living maybe you could use that but Gojo didn't give you that much information.
You definitely should've asked Gojo more questions. You sigh and give the shittiest but only excuse you could come up with, "I saw you the other day and mentioned you to Satoru, he said he knew you and could introduce me to you so... here I am."
Geto stares, his eye contact making you nervous as always. "Right... So now that you're here... Tell me, what is it that you want from me?"
You chew on your lower lip. Again, how do you respond to this?
Before you come up with something, Geto suddenly leans down closer to you. "Is there something I can do for you gorgeous?" He murmurs in an almost seductive tone, clearly hinting at something.
Yes. He could bend you over the kitchen counter and have his way with you so that you can get him checked off that stupid ass list... But of course, you're not gonna say all of that out loud.
"Uhm, n-no?" You utter.
Your breath sinks into your throat as he nears you some more, his face stopping a few inches away from your own. "You sound unsure." Geto teases. He then places his hand over your own and gives you a gentle smile, "You wanted to see me for a reason so, just tell me."
"I'm interested in you." You end up blurting out.
His eyes widen, "Yeah?" Geto smiles, still remaining close to you, "Interested in me how?"
Sexually. But you don't say that.
Instead, your eyes drop down to his lips, and damn the way Geto notices it too. You're screwed, so screwed. He definitely knows you came over to seduce him. There's no way he doesn't.
With what little confidence you have, you decide to just say 'fuck it' and go for it. "I think you know how." You say with a different tune to your voice.
Your words prompt a quirk on his lips, "Maybe," Geto replies, furthering your suspicions of Gojo telling him everything. "But damn, at least take me on a date first..." He says playfully.
And there's your confirmation. He definitely knows why you're here.
"Well, when are you free?" You respond. Knowing that he's already aware of your intentions only makes this whole thing easier for you.
Geto flashes a smile, "Wow, you actually wanna take me on a date? Alright then, I'm free tomorrow night if you are."
Of course you are, tomorrow's a Sunday and you barely even have friends as it is.
"Yeah, I'm free..." You hum.
He nods and the two of you soon exchange numbers.
A little more small talk occurs between you two but ultimately, your plan to seduce Geto and get him to sleep with you has officially begun...
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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klaus-littlestwolf · 3 months
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flynn rider aemond being tied up with rupanzels hair and he gets hard abt it lol
Innocent rupanzel has never seen a man so she starts to experiment around him
First was spot the difference, what constitutes as a man and woman, only to find his half hard cock and this makes her wet
and she takes all her frustrations out on his dick
Is This…Hair?! -Yandere!Aemond T
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Important A/n:Must Read (Dark)
Okay so this one is DEFINITELY DARK. Y/n is the epitome of innocence, she’s lived in the tower her whole life, only ever read the books that her “Mother” got for her and she didn’t have any clue that men even existed.
She is clueless because when she asks her “Mother” questions she gets beaten, she learned very young to just do as she was told.
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The first thing Aemond realized as he woke up was that he was unable to move, opening his eye he saw a circular room, but it had everything a house needed. A small kitchen, living space, too few bookshelves for his taste, then there were stairs leading up to what he assumed was a bedroom. Just as he looked down to try and free himself there was a voice that came from…above him?
‘Don’t try to escape, you’ll never get out!’ A girls voice spoke and Aemond looked up, seeing what looked like a girl hiding behind one of the beams near the ceiling.
‘Look, I’m sorry I just broke into your house but I was in a bit of trouble. I won’t hurt you Darling, please won’t you let me out of…Is this…Hair?!’ He was stunned as he finally figured out what the soft texture of the “rope” was.
All at once the girl leapt down to the floor, controlling her descent with it, not harming herself a bit it seemed. ‘Have you come for my hair?! Mother always said someone would! I didn’t believe her but…She was right to lock me away up here.’
Aemond instantly found himself thinking about how gorgeous this girl was, she was absolute perfection made into human form, not one single blemish aside from the bruise on the side of her face that looked like someone had slapped her pretty hard. His thought then trailed to the idea that she had been up here her entire life with no one to talk to, never able to leave…what kind of a mother would do that to her child?
Then again, who is Aemond to judge? He’s not a good man, never has been and never will be. Hell, he’s tied to a chair with a hot girl inspecting him and he is unable to control his own cock as it swells in his breeches.
‘Have you been up here your entire life?’ He wondered as she stepped a bit closer, now about 5 feet away.
‘Of course! The outside world is dangerous, mother says there are monsters everywhere!’ He could see how scared she was a he felt for her a bit. She had never experienced anything that is good in the world, just kept inside and naive, too innocent for the world around her. Aemond had never been innocent, as long as he can remember he was alone, having run away from the orphanage he grew up in when he was 11 he fended for himself fairly well.
‘Honestly you are describing almost every guy I’ve ever met, though they’re not all bad. I’m not a bad guy, I don’t want to hurt you. I only came here to hide.’
‘What is a “guy”?’ She asked and Aemond felt his jaw drop. What had this girls mother done to her?!
‘You…you don’t know what a guy is?’ She shook her head. ‘A guy is a boy, it’s the opposite of a girl, you are a girl, I am a boy or you could say that you are a woman and I am a man. You know the old stories of a man and a woman falling in love and living happily ever after?’ She shook her head.
‘What is love?’ Once again he was stunned by her naïveté but he half expected this one. However this one gave him an idea…Aemond loved her innocence, craved it and here it was for the taking. If he took his time, he was confident he could own this girls soul if he wanted to.
And he Desperately wanted to.
‘Come closer and look at me, I won’t try to move, I promise. Just see our differences and you’ll understand.’ She cautiously crept closer until she stood before him. ‘Touch me, you know what you look and feel like, now feel me. It’s okay, go on.’ She hesitated, unsure about this stranger. ‘Hey, what’s your name, hmm?’
‘R-Rapunzel.’
‘Wow, that’s a beautiful name. My name is Aemond, okay? We know each others names so we’re friends now, no reason to be nervous sweet girl. Now, come sit on my lap and look at me.’ Rapunzel must have thought his explanation to be a sound one because a moment later she plopped herself into his lap and reached up to touch his face.
‘Your face is scratchy.’ She giggled, rubbing over the stubble.
‘There’s a reason for that. When a man and a women love each other they play games together just for them, the rough stubble on my face will make my future wife happy.’ She looked to be considering that but didn’t ask before touching the eyepatch and looking curious.
‘Did someone hurt you Aemond?’ He nodded and she took the eyepatch off to see a large sapphire where his eye should be. ‘You’re so pretty.’ She stated, touching over his scar gently before running her hands down his jaw to his neck and over his chest which was flat and hard unlike hers. ‘That’s different…’ she admitted, looking down at her chest to see where it is much bigger than his.
‘You can look if you’d like, men have hard, flat chests, usually with defined muscles. Women have breasts-‘
‘Why?’ She questioned as she began unbuttoning his shirt, though she was unable to pull it off with her hair in the way.
‘They’re for whatever man she falls in love with to touch and suck on, they’re also for feeding whatever babies a man and woman have together…you can untie me if you’d like. I promise, I won’t move a muscle until you want me to. I want to help you understand this, it’s an important life lesson that your mother is wrong for not telling you about.’ Rapunzel considered this, he hadn’t been fighting against her despite him being able to hurt her in his lap so, why not?
She hopped up and began untying Aemond from her hair but once she did, he did not move at all other than to gesture her back onto him.
‘No, try the other way. Put one knee on either side of my legs, you’ll be able to see me better.’
‘Oh…that’s smart!’ She smiled and Aemond wanted to see that smile on her face everyday for the rest of his life, he wanted to see her smile up at him while his cock is buried into her virgin tight cunt for the rest of his days on this Earth.
He couldn’t hold in the groan as she began rubbing his chest so delicately, he was in heaven already and he still knew he could take so much more. ‘Do you need help untying your dress? So that you can compare better, of course.’ She thought for a moment before nodding her head and allowing Aemond to untie the back of her dress and pull it down her arms and all the way to her waist. Her breasts weren’t overly big, they were petite and cute, perfect in Aemond’s eyes, though his cock twitched when he considered what they would look like swollen with milk atop her belly swollen with his child. He was no longer half hard, he was fully erect and leaking against his breeches. ‘Can I show you something?’ She didn’t hesitate to nod this time as her breathing was becoming a bit faster, she was getting excited and that is exactly what Aemond needs, now he just needs to make sure that she’s as wet as she can be.
He leans forward and kisses her chest between her breasts before pressing his jaw to her skin and hearing her gasp at the scratchy sensation against her sensitive skin which was instantly made stronger as he moved over her nipple. ‘Oh God! Do-D-Do that again! Please?!’ She whined and Aemond chuckled, doing as she asked and as he did her hips moved against her will making her feel something against her Kitty. She was going to ask what it was but all thought flew from her brain as Aemond wrapped his lips around her other nipple and suckled gently. ‘Ah-Oh! Aemond that feels…it-‘ her hips were grinding down on him once again but she didn’t care anymore, the sensation rising in her belly felt too good to stop. ‘Don’t stop! Please?! I-I need…’ Aemond wrapped one of his arms around her waist, adjusting his hips and began helping her grind down on his length harder as he licked over her sensitive nipple, sucking even harder and twisting the other between his fingers roughly. She threw her head back as she came, her body shaking at the intense orgasm but Aemond kept up his attentions on her until she came back down.
‘That felt good, didn’t it?’ She nodded, face now in his neck as she breathed heavily. ‘It made you feel good right down here.’ He stated, cupping her pussy and making her whimper at his attention. ‘This is your cunt, or your pussy, and it is so special…do you know why?’ She shook her head as she sat back again to look at him. ‘It’s special because it can make you and the man you love feel so amazingly good.’
‘How do I know if I love a man, Aemond?’ He smirked, unable to help feeling successful at this moment.
‘That really good feeling I just gave you?’ She nodded. ‘That means I love you, it means you are the only girl in the world for me. Now if you can make me feel like that too then that means you love me. It would mean that we are meant to be together…does that make sense?’
‘Yes…what should I do to make you feel good?’ She asked him and he took hold of her legs and lifted her against him, moving them both over to the couch and laying her down.
‘I just moved you here so that it will be more comfortable for you, I don’t want my Princess in unnecessary pain, do I?’ Her eyes widened and she smiled before shaking her head. ‘I’m going to show you the biggest difference between a man and women, alright?’ He sat back on his knees between her legs and unhooked his belt before pulling his pants down enough for his cock to slap against his stomach and he saw her eyes widen as she looked at it. ‘You can touch it if you want to, just be gentle.’ She sat up a bit and reached out to wrap her hand around it making his head fall back as he groaned. ‘This is my cock, and it’s very sensitive. You can make it feel so good for me just like I made you feel.’
‘Show me how! I wanna make you feel good too Aemond.’
‘Such a sweet girl you are, fuck! You can make it feel good just stroking it if you want, or you can put it in your mouth and suck on it, that feels incredible.’ He stopped her from moving to put her mouth on him making her pout which he found adorable. ‘The thing that makes a man’s cock feel best though, is when it’s inside a tight little pussy like yours.’ Her eyes widened in surprise before looking back at his cock.
‘I don’t think that will fit Aemond…’
‘Of course it will pretty girl.’ He promised, laying her back and kissing her cheek gently. ‘I love you, and you love me, I already know it. Now I’m gonna make the both of us feel really good, okay? Do you trust me?’ She hesitated a moment before realizing that she does which prompted her to nod her head. ‘That’s my good girl. Now this is going to be uncomfortable for a moment, maybe even a tad bit painful but I promise it will pass quickly, alright? Then you will feel nothing but pleasure.’
‘Okay…I trust you.’ There’s a small part of his brain that feels a bit bad taking advantage of her like this but if he didn’t then someone else would and they would probably be 10x worse than him. He’s going to make her feel good for the rest of her life, and she’s going to give him all the pleasure and babies he could ever want. It’s worth it any way you look at it.
‘Just relax for me.’ He instructed as he pulled her panties down and tossed them aside, pressing his cock against her hole and pushing into her gently. He didn’t stop until he bottomed out before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly and taking her mind off of the discomfort. She kissed back happily, following his lead and eventually he felt her relax. ‘There you are pretty girl.’ He pulled his hips back, pushing into her again slowly which made her whine as it clearly felt good. ‘Such a good girl, letting me fuck your little pussy. So fucking good Princess!’ He moaned as he rocked back and forth, picking up the pace a bit at a time before she was a panting, mewling mess as he drilled his cock in and out of her as hard as he could. ‘You feel so good for me baby, making my cock feel so fucking good! Such a good girl!’
‘Don’t stop, please? Feels-ah! Never want you to stop…’ she whined, pulling his head down to kiss her again which he happily did.
‘Gonna fuck you like this all the time Princess. All day every day, this pussy was made for me! Your body was made for me, made to take my cock! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum! Gonna fill you up so good baby!’
‘C-cum?’ She mumbled and he just grunted as he buried his face into her neck.
‘Cum, remember how good you felt before? That was cumming. Gonna cum inside you, fill you up so deep! You’ll never want to be empty again, and I’ll never leave you without my cum.’ He could feel her pussy squeezing around him suddenly as she cried out and he fucked her through it before thrusting harder and making her look up at him. ‘Tell me what you want.’
‘I want you to cum…want you to cum in me and feel so good!’
‘Tell me…tell me you want me to put a baby in you!’ He grunted, so close and desperate to hear her say it, knowing she would do anything he said at this point.
‘Yes! Fill me up! Put a baby in me, please? Want your babies!’
‘Oh Fuck! FuckFuckFuck!’ He pushed his cock as deep into her cunt as he could physically get before he came, shooting everything he had up into her womb. ‘Good girl, gonna have my babies. God, I love you Princess-fuck!’
‘I love you too Aemond…you feel so good…’
‘That’s right Princess. You’re all mine now, all fucking mine.’
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Aemond “Tangled” Moodboard
Aemond T. Masterlist
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Text
august
Theodore Nott x fem!reader
summary: Theo asks you to be his fake-girlfriend but you understand the assignment a little too well. No Voldemort/war AU
warnings: !not proofread! underage alcohol consumption
word count: 4k
ao3 - Theo masterlist
You weren’t mine to lose
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Theodore Nott knew that one day he would be asked to marry a pureblooded witch and have a family with her; not because he wanted it, but because that’s what is expected of him.
What he didn't know is that in his 7th year, his father would begin throwing women at him, witches he didn't know and didn't care to get to know.
He did his best to avoid his fathers constant complains and lectures, but time was not his friend and he needed to come up with a solution to his problem or he would soon be marrying a stranger.
You and Theo became somewhat friends during quidditch practice. Neither of you played quidditch but attended your friends practice meetings, since you had nowhere else to go.
You bonded over not being into sports and falling asleep during first period every Monday. You always knew you would find him near corners at parties, watching the crowd but never intending to join them.
You were a pureblooded witch, not part of the Sacred 28, definitely not a blood purist. He liked those things about you, it felt refreshing being friends with someone who did not care about such insignificant things.
You were also kind and thoughtful and always helped him when life felt heavy, that is why he was brave enough to ask you a very important favor.
"Absolutely not!", you shouted
"Shhhhh", students whispered.
Madam Pince walked to you, with a scowl on her face and her hands crossed tightly in front of her,
"Mr Nott, are you and your friend aware this is a library?", she said displeased.
"I am sorry, Madam Pince, it won’t happen again", you whispered fast
"Well that is what I expect of you, next time I hear you, you'll be jinxed off of here.", she replied and walked away.
Theo was looking at you innocently, begging you with his eyes to accept his proposal.
"Theo I will not pretend to date you", you whispered this time.
"Please, it won't be for more than three months, I just need my father to back off!", he explained
"Please, please, please!", he continued, "He will marry me off to a snob French witch, I am sure of it, and then I’ll be forced to have a bunch of kids with her, for the sake of the family line"
"I will end up 30 and more miserable than Snape!", he finished dramatically
You rolled your eyes at that and said, "Firstly, that is a bit dramatic and secondly, if we 'date' there is no way it will be only for three months."
He smirked at that "Well, love, if you wanted to be with me for more than that you could have said so from the start."
You hit him with your notebooks after that and he burst out laughing.
You saw Madam Pince behind him -not so entertained- mouthing "OUT" with her eyebrows raised.
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He shouted your name while following you down the hallway,
"Please, think about it.", he begged
"Theo I told you-", you started but were cut off by a figure walking past you.
"Hello there.", says Finn with a smile that could persuade you to do anything he wanted.
Truth is you have had a crush on the boy ever since you met him. He is in a different House than you and you never get the chance to talk to him. You always try to master up the courage during parties but you can never find the right time. He hangs out with your friends but you feel too foolish to admit your crush to them, so you are stuck with greetings in hallways and daydreaming during class.
"Hi", you respond with a blush on your face and an awkward smile.
Finn continues walking; but your mind is stuck on the way he looked at you and his smile and;
"So that is why you won't be my fake-girlfriend."
"I- what?", you turn to find him smirking like an idiot and reply "Shut up", as you walk by him, taking long strides.
"Wait wait.", he says while trying to catch up to you.
"Maybe this can help us both.", he says after running in front of you to stop you.
"How could this help me?", you say back, "Not that I want any help!", you add quickly
"Well in the case that you did want my help, I can - as a teenage boy- testify that jealousy goes a long way."
"Please, jealous? He doesn't even know my name, why would he care if we dated?"
"Along with jealousy, being seen with someone else makes you more attractive", he adds quickly
"That is stupid and disgusting."
"It is the way the world works, love." he smiles deviously "So what do you say will you be my fake girlfriend?" he says as he extends his hand into a handshake
"No" you reply, smacking his hand away.
"I will see you tomorrow for breakfast, I'd tell you to ask Pince, she's a proper catch and your dad would approve, but I’m not sure she'll say yes after what happened today.", you say sarcastically
"Oh you wound me so.", he sighs dramatically "Maybe I'll ask McGonagall with a flock of birds to impress her."
You laugh at that before wishing eachother goodnight.
You lie on your bed thinking about Theo and his proposal; about Finn and how stupid your crush feels. About how stupid boys make you feel, how you wish you had more experience with them, more confidence.
You wished you were one of those people who went out to get what they wanted, the ones who fought for themselves, didn’t sit around in the corners with a comfort blanket draped around their shoulders.
“Maybe this can help us both” he said
Would it honestly be that bad to pretend to be Theos girlfriends for a few months? 
You trusted him and knew he would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Maybe you would have to set a couple of rules to be sure there would be no misunderstandings, but things could work out.
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You quickly got dressed the next day and found him eating breakfast alone; like he did every morning, being the first of his friends to wake up this early.
You sat across from him and begun putting fruit and pastries on your plate while he filled your coffee cup; another habit of his.
“I will do it”, you said calmly
His eyes shot up at yours and before he could say anything you let out a hiss of pain and stared at the coffee spilling from the overflowing cup to your hands and plate.
“But-“ you continued more serious now “we need to set up a few rules.”
“I love rules” he replied while drying your hands with a napkin and then switching your plates so he got the drenched-in-coffee one.
"Okay well, firstly I would appreciate it if this arrangement stayed between the two of us- I am not exactly thrilled to be mocked by the whole Slytherin house for the rest of the school year.", you said looking him in the eye
“Easy- done”, he exclaimed “You have to come with me to a Ball and meet my father.”
“I- you should know it will be very awkward”, you said apologetically
“No need to worry, it will take no more than ten minutes, he isn’t a people person, I just need him to believe that I am dating you.”, he explained quickly.
"Fine, I guess, but after we end this won’t he keep on pressuring you? We can’t keep this on forever you know.", you said
"Well, of course not; I just need him to get off my back until we graduate, then I can be free of him."
"Okay then, do we need to pretend at school? Your father won’t be here to see us.", you asked
"Yes, but the children of his friends will be and then he’ll find out Slytherins are terrible gossipers, you know.", he joked
"Fine okay, but we won’t do anything extreme", you said with a serious tone
"Not unless you ask me", he said grinning like the devil (wink wink)
You throw him a blueberry and he laughs before he picks it up and eats it
"What about you and loverboy? How do you want us to approach it?", he asked
Us rolls off his tongue way too easily, you think and feel a flutter in your stomach as you play it back
"Well , I haven’t thought about that, I am not sure I want to do anything really, I just want to forget it even happened.", you awkwardly say
"What 'happened', your feelings? It isn’t exactly something you can control .", he joked
"Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it is; if you are reasonable and smart." you say looking him in the eyes "Anyways, I got too distracted from the constant what if but now I have something else to focus on." you continue
"I can assure you I'll be the best fake girlfriend there is" , you say and smile
"It is a deal then.", he says extending his hand
"Yes.", you say shaking his hand this time.
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The pretending started slowly, small touches in front of other students in the library, the Great Hall and on quidditch matches.
Spending weekends at Hogsmeade together, sharing butterbeer and going for walks with his arm behind your back or hands clasped together.
He would lend you his sweater and you would lend him your scarf, the one with your house colors.
He pretended he smelled you in his Amortentia and made a spectacle out of it in class; leaving you a blushing mess.
Eventually the Ministry planned a Ball; and you dreaded every second leading to it.
Theo helped you pick out a gown for it and walked you through the experience of a "Ministry party for the Miserable", as he called them
"Most of them will be boring themselves with talks about work; others will be drinking their boredom away and then there will be dancing. It will be over before you realize it, truly", he calmed you down
You agreed to meet him at the venue and you found him by the door playing with his wand while waiting for you.
"Some boyfriend you are-", you joked and his head immediately shot up to look at you "Making me come here alone, not walking me from the car, what will everyone say?", you said smiling and looped your arms around his, while he stared at you.
"My fair lady you have to forgive me, I will make it up to you." he shook his head and lead you both inside.
He spotted his father quickly and walked towards him. You felt terrified, couldn't exactly understand how a man sweet and kind; alive like Theo could have come from a man like his father.
He looked cold and mean and from what Theo had told you about him he was.
"Father" Theo said in a voice reserved just for his father and introduced you to him.
"I am sure you are familiar with her parents; they have an active role in the Wizarding community.", he said
You smiled at that; at his Slytheirn traits showing up when he needed them most.
"Ah yes, I remember your father in our Charity event a few months back.", he said with his strict voice, "I just wish Theodore would have bothered to tell me back then you two knew eachother."
You smile awkwardly and look at Theo who gives you a tired look.
"As I understand you are seeing eachother; how long has that been going on?", he asks
"A few months; but we have been friends for a few years now", you reply as calm as you can
"And what are your plans for after you graduate? Theo is going to work in the Ministry, I have friends in departments that can show him the ropes", he questions and you try to picture Theo in a Ministry 9-5 job and think it is just wrong.
"Well I am not sure yet; I was hoping to continue my studies and maybe get a master in Potions or Transfiguration. Passing NEWTs is the only thing on my mind right now.", you explain nervously
"Right. Well excuse me, I have to greet a few friends.", he says and leaves the two of you alone, once again.
You both leave out a breath you have been holding for a while.
"Didn't go that bad, right?", you ask
"No, uh it went fine.", he says with a troubled look, "Do you mind if we go outside?"
"Not at all, come on.", you say with a comforting voice and let him lead you outside.
You find a quiet place in the garden away from everyone. Finding company in the stars and each other.
"I hate him", Theo breathes and you don't know what to say back, how to comfort him.
So you take his hand in yours and hold it tightly.
"I am not taking the job at the Ministry, I won't.", he said
"What do you want to do?", you encourage him
He shakes his head before he answers.
"Slughorn offered to write me a recommendation letter, so I can study where he did. If I do well on the exams",
"But my father doesn't care about what I want, has not even bothered to find out.", he scoffs
"Well he can sod right off, respectfully, because he scares me." you say and he laughs
"You'll do great, you are so smart Theo, everything will work out, I am sure of it.", you say holding his hand
"Thank you.", he says smiling, "for everything."
You spend the rest of the night talking about life and the future, with your head on his shoulder and his thumb drawing circles in your hand.
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As the school year progressed stress and anxiety were starting to get the best of everyone. Students were either practicing for a quidditch match or studying in the library.
That is why a few Gryffindors decided to host a party, to take a break from studying and celebrate the success that would surely be coming; "very Gryffindor of them" commented Theo.
While getting ready for the party you realized this would be the last time everyone would be having fun together and you felt nostalgia crash on you like the waves that destroy rocks.
What happens after school? You think.
Will you lose your friends? Will you lose Theo? Where will you go? What will you do?
There are questions you don’t know how to answer and that scares you.
Then your mind drifts to Finn and how you never did anything to get close to him no matter how much you liked him; liked because now he is a thing of the past, thanks to Theo you think, who took your mind off of him, kept you company.
Maybe, you think, faking a relationship with Theo made something deep inside you think that it wasn’t pretend. That Theo liked you more than a friend and that maybe you did too.
Did or do?, you think
Did, definitely did. Theo will get a masters in Potions somewhere and you will have to find your place in this world. Liking Theo isn’t something that should be happening right now- or ever with his terrifying dictator of a dad.
You laugh as you picture family holidays with the Notts.
“Knock knock”
You snap out of your thoughts and turn to find Theo leaning on your door, with his hands in his pockets .
“Ready?” He asks
You nod and he extends his hand “After you my lady”
“Shut up” you laugh as you let him hold you
Ronald Weasley waits for you by the portrait of the Fat Lady and lets you inside.
Everyone is dancing, snogging, drinking or doing all of those things together.
"I am going to get us drinks." shouts Theo and you give him a thumbs up as you walk into the crowd, trying to find some familiar face.
Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder and see Finn smiling at you.
"Hi!" you beam at him
"Finally decided to let yourself have fun?", he asks playfully
"What do you mean?", you ask
"Well I haven't seen you in a party since you and Nott became a thing, come to think of it, before that you two would always find a quiet corner and stay there together.", he says
Before you get the chance to reply you feel an arm snake around your waist and Theos scent fills your lungs.
"Here you go, love" he says and hands you your drink "Finn, how are you mate?"
"I am fine Nott, preparing for Quidditch finals, nervous about the NEWTs?"
"Obviously, but what can I do besides studying?", he responds.
Awkward silence lays between the three of you. You cant wait to laugh with Theo about it, once Finn leaves.
"You are lucky your girlfriend is such a good listener. I remember once she let me explain the Star Wars films to her without falling asleep or complaining.", he said laughing
"How do you even remember that, it was ages ago", you say surprised
"You would be surprised. Now if you will excuse me, I need a refill."
You watched Finn leave and turned to see Theo looking at you with a calculating look.
"Looks like loverboy is back", he said
"Stop" you say and drag him with you to greet your friends and dance.
After a few hours you both decided you had enough social interactions for one night, so you decided to go back to your dorms.
As you were leaving you spotted Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, laughing and kissing eachother before disappearing into a broom closet together.
“Ah broom closets; the perfect shagging spot”, joked Theo
“What, you..” you stammer “in a…”
“Shagged in a closet? Yes”, he said smirking at your awkwardness
“Right” you replied
“What, you haven’t?" he asks and you shake your head
“Not even for a dare?”, he continued
“No, Theo I haven’t.” you say annoyed
He laughs and says “Don’t worry you aren’t missing much. Besides, the best shagging spot is the restricted section.”
“You are impossible.” , you say to him as you walk together side by side
“I am joking, nothing tops the comforts of a bed.”, he says jokingly
You remain quiet, I wouldn’t know, you think to yourself.
“Wait” he says “-have you ever?”
“Have I what?” You say annoyed
“Been with someone” he asks
“I, well, have you seen me date anyone, all these years we have been friends?”
“No, but you also never told me you like Finn, so how would I know what else you keep to yourself. "
“Liked, Theo, and can we please forget about that?”, you plead
“Alright I am sorry” he answers raising his hands
“Do you think it is weird I haven’t been with anyone? Yet?” You ask nervously
“Weird? No of course not, why?”
“Well you sounded very surprised, that is all”, you say
“No it isn’t weird, but if you want me to show you what it is like I-”, he said slowly
You hit his arm and cut him off “Shut up, honestly, you can sometimes be so annoying!”
He laughed and said “Sorry”
You continue walking without saying anything before he breaks the silence.
“I think he likes you”
“Nonsense, he talks to everyone”, you say while rolling your eyes
“Well then, he is an idiot”, he responds with a serious tone
You shake your head and laugh
“He really is”, he says again
And as you look up at him you see his eyes deeply focused on yours. The look on his face: something entirely new to you. Up until now you always thought Theodore Nott had shown you his real self, almost every part of him; but the way he looks at you now proves how wrong you have been.
His cheeks are flushed and you are sure if you were to touch him he’d burn you. His usual smirk is nowhere to be found; his lips are relaxed and asking for something; as if they have a mind of their own. His eyes are wandering over your features, not calculating but admiring.
His hand flies up to fix a strand of hair that has fallen in front of your face and gently places it behind your ear.
You look at his lips and at him, lost and surprised.
See you tomorrow, he whispers and before you get the chance to respond he walks away to his dorm.
What happened? you think for the rest of the night
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Had you grown closer to Theo these past few months, without meaning to?
Had your feelings shifted and if yes when did that happen?
You felt empty as you woke up the next day. Did you feel for Theo what you had felt for Finn once? A made up scenario showing you what could have been?
No, you knew Theo, the version of him inside your head was the one that already existed.
He is kind and smart; he cares about you, always have; even before this agreement.
He always makes sure you feel safe, never pushes things too far. 
What he said last night, the way he looked at you sends butterflies to your stomach. Would it be that ridiculous of you to think he has feelings for you? 
And if he does have feelings for you, how do you feel about him? 
Is he a friend or something more?
Have you just grown used to the attention he gives you? The pretending and faking.
Or do you want-need it to be real.
You will ruin everything and that scares you.
This is too much thinking before coffee, you think and head to the Great Hall.
You find him then with a mug in one hand and a book in the other, once he sees you he smiles, innocently, not a smirk; a greeting.
And that is enough for you to break down your walls, leave your fears behind.
You want him to smile at you; only you every time he sees you. You want to be with him, not only in front of others, always.
You want to tell him I love you and you also want to hear it from him. You want him to tell you his dreams and encourage yours. You want to spend every night with him and wake up in his arms. You want him to show you what it is like to be cared for, truly.
And that desire is enough for you to shed your fears away, because even if things go bad, at least you've tried; fighted.
"Goodmorning", he says as you take the seat next to him.
You smile at him "Goodmorning"
He fills your mug with coffee like he always does
"I don't want to keep pretending to be your girlfriend.", you say
His face darkens and his smile disappears, "Is it about last night? Did I make you feel uncomfortable, I-"
"I can't keep pretending.", you continue "If you want to be with me we have to stop pretending, I want to be with you for real."
"I-" he is speechless now, playing what you said over and over in his head.
"I am in love with you. And it is okay if you aren't, but I had to tell you. I can't fake it anymore.", you confess
He smiles now and grabs your face to kiss you before whispering in your lips, "Who said I was pretending?"
fin
dividers by the wonderful @saradika
not proofread, sorry for mistakes
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genderkoolaid · 7 months
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yeah, but you do mean 'loveless' like 'romanceless' right? Just cause you're not interested in a romantic partnership, and you're never attracted to anyone romantically, that doesn't mean you can't love your family and your friends. Am I understanding wrong? I feel like it's a widely accepted concept that 'love' isn't just romantic, it's about caring about someone, no matter if they're your family or platonic friend or your pet.
No, "loveless" means love-less. Another anon also asked me to explain as well so:
"Lovelessness" in the aro context comes from the essay I Am Not Voldemort by K.A Cook. The essay confronts normative ideas on love, its inherent positivity and what it means to not love. From the introduction, which brings up the question of non-romantic love:
This June, I saw an increasing number of positivity and support posts for the aromantic and a-spec communities discussing the amatonormativity of “everyone falls in love”. I agree: the idea that romantic love is something everyone experiences, and is therefore a marker of human worth, needs deconstruction. Unfortunately, a majority of these posts are replacing the shackles of amatonormativity with restrictive lines like “everyone loves, just not always romantically”, referencing the importance of loving friends, QPPs, family members and pets. Sometimes it moves away from people to encompass love for hobbies, experiences, occupations and ourselves. The what and how tends to vary from post to post, but the idea that we do and must love someone or something, and this love redeems us as human and renders us undeserving of hatred, is being pushed to the point where I don’t feel safe or welcome in my own aromantic community. Even in the posts meant to be challenging the more obvious amatonormativity, it is presumed that aros must, in some way, love. I’ve spent weeks watching my a-spec and aro communities throw neurodiverse and survivor aros under the bus in order to do what the aromantic community oft accuses alloromantic aces of doing: using their ability to love as a defence of their humanity. Because I love, they say, I also don’t deserve to be a target of hatred, aggression and abuse. But what if I don’t love? What if love itself has been the mechanism of the hatred and violence I have endured? Why am I, an aro, neurodiverse survivor of abuse and bullying, still acceptable collateral damage?
The author criticizes the idea of "true love" that is incapable of harm. Ze questions why we construct love in that way, and how it ignores and simplifies the experiences of victims of abuse ("It’s comforting to think that a love that wounds isn’t real love, but it denies the complexity of experience and feeling had by survivors. It denies the complexity of experience and feeling that makes it harder for us to identify abuse and escape its claws. It denies the validity of survivors who look at love and feel an honest doubt about its worth, as a word or a concept, in our own interactions and experiences.") Ze talks about being forced to say "I love you" to transphobic, abusive parents whose feelings of love was the justification for their abuse.
The core of what "loveless" as an concept is about is summed up in this quote:
There is no substantial difference between saying “I’m human because I fall in love”, “I’m human because I love my friends” and “I’m human because I love calligraphy”. All three statements make human worth contingent on certain behaviours, feelings and experiences. Expanding the definition of what kinds of love make us human does nothing but save some aros from abuse and antagonism … while telling survivor and neurodiverse aros, who are more likely to have complex relationships to love as a concept or are unable to perform it in ways recognised by others, that we’re still not worthy.
Lovelessness is against any kind of statement which quantifies humanity (and implicitly, human worth) in the ability to feel or act or experience certain things. Humans are human by virtue of being human, and nothing else. And, it is socially constructed! "Love" has no natural definition! Some people are not comfortable using "love" to describe positive feelings and relationships, and some people do not feel those positive feelings in general. And those people deserve the right to define their own experiences and their own relationship to the social construct of love.
In essence, lovelessness is both a personal as well as (in my opinion) a political identity, born from aro and mad experiences that challenges not just amatonormativity but all ideas that associate personhood and worth with the ability to feel certain things.
& as a note, there is also the term "lovequeer" which describes using the term "love" in ways which contradict mainstream understandings of what it means to love, and which kinds of love are considered worthwhile.
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pastryfication · 27 days
Text
it’s hard … and i hate this part
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pairing: logan sargeant x reader note: i really hope he has someone to lean on for comfort right now.
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you got the call on the way home from work. you were in a good mood, skipping along as you listened to music while slowly nearing the building in which your apartment was located.
or well, you were in a good mood until you heard his voice.
logan was a calm person. so incredibly calm and controlled, good at keeping his feelings at bay, burrowing them behind a thick protective wall. but in that moment, as he told you the news, his voice was shaking with sobs. terrible, soul wrecking sobs, that crushed your heart in an indescribable way.
as you almost ran the last meters towards your home. your head was pounding, your heart was beating away at an unusually fast pace, and your entire body tingled as a lump formed in your throat, almost breaking down your calm exterior.
it took you a full minute to get the key to fit in the door, your hands shaking as you pushed the phone against your ear. you refused to hang up before he was within your reach.
you pushed open the door with a never before seen enthusiasm, completely neglecting to put away your things as you practically ran towards where you knew he would be.
and there, nestled in your cozy sofa, was your boyfriend. your boyfriend who had just received the news he had been fearing for so long. the news he knew were inevitable. the news he thought he would be able to avoid for at least a few months.
his eyes were red and puffy. there were no tears falling, but it was clear that a waterfall was close to brimming over again soon. he took one look at you and immediately held out his arms. you didn’t hesitate for even a moment.
taking the last step towards him and taking him into your arms was all you longed to do. so you did exactly that, wrapping your arms around his frame as good as you could while he burrowed his face into your chest, inhaling the comforting scent of you.
you stood there for a moment, relishing in the feeling of each others company before logan broke the silence.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost inaudible, but you picked it up immediately.
“what?!” you pulled back to look at him, capturing his face between your hands when he wouln’t meet your eyes. “baby, why are you sorry? you have nothing to be sorry for.”
he didn’t answer immediately, instead taking his bottom lip between his teeth as his teary eyes met yours in an eye contact so intimate that it was almost too much.
“logan, my love.” your thump gently caressed his cheek as you started talking, your voice a soft, soothing balm to his inner turmoil. “i hope you know that you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. you’re allowed to be upset. what the team has done to you is absolutely not fair. the race you drove in zandvoort was amazing—just like so many of your other performances this season has been.
“they gave you nothing to work with, and still, they expected you to achieve the unachievable. that’s not fair. you have been so loyal to the team—more than they deserve—and still, they treat you like this. you’re not the one who should be sorry. williams are. please tell me you understand that.”
his eyes glazed over even further at your short speech, the emotions clear on his face as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
a lump was quickly forming in his throat, but this time, it didn’t feel as all-consuming as when he was alone. his voice failed him when he tried to answer you, so instead, you only got a nod. but that was fine. that was enough.
and as he cuddled even closer to you, pulling you down on the couch with him so he could be completely wrapped up in your arms, you felt the weight on your chest lifting slightly too.
this whole ordeal would definitely leave some scars on logan—and on you as well—and they might never heal completely, but you had each other. and you’ll always have each other.
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