#hither to be specific

[bosspigeon]

did you get what you were asking for?

haven't been able to write much lately, but i've been playing D&D pretty regularly, and i like thinking about my boy <3 Raike's first "patron" in the Feywilds, though not the one who gave him his magic. a snippet of memories he lost in Barovia coming back to haunt him now that he's returned to where it all started...

He finds it almost funny that he doesn't remember the name of the man who taught him the importance of names in this realm. He doesn't remember his face either, but after Barovia, there are far more important things he's forgotten.

Some of it he's gotten back, but not all, not enough. He's far more concerned with remembering his mother's face than that of some shitty ex–

Ex? Ex-something. Something… something important, truly, but something he's not sure he wants to have back.

The more he recalls, the more he wishes he could pick and choose what he keeps, and what he forgets.

But that's not how it works. That's not how anything has ever worked, no matter much he pretends to believe it does.

Raike used to think of himself as something of a romantic, but much like the boy he was before the Wilds, that part of him died long ago.

He hoped that after he escaped Barovia (though he's still not sure how it happened, and regrets that, once again, he's left his family behind without so much as a goodbye) his memories would return, but that doesn't seem to be the case.

He gets fragments, sometimes. Snippets and shreds, shards of his life before that bleak, murky hellhole. They come to him in wispy half-memories, flashes of sensation, the dry heat of the sun on red sand, the hazy violet of the sky after sunset, the constant thrum of nighttime insects that echoes in the chest.

The memories that come to him in dreams tend to be the clearest, and the worst.

"Slit his throat, pet."

The voice is soft, silky-smooth. Dangerous.

The man at his feet looks up at him, eyes wide and fearful in his ashen face. He's a young man, human–perhaps Raike's age, or maybe a little older.

(How old is he again? How long has he been here?)

Raike wonders what crime the human has committed. It's impossible to guess. He's learned the hard way how easily the Fair Folk are offended. His master is no different.

(Master? Yes, that sounds right. Raike might have called him lover once, when he was newer. Stupider.)

Whatever the crime, it's unlikely it calls for execution. It's even less likely his master is incapable of doing himself, and doing it much less… messily.

Raike hesitates too long.

"I made a request of you, my pet."

A request. He almost laughs.

Instead, he looks down at the human at his feet. He's never seen him before. Poor thing must have stumbled upon the Courts recently. There are still twigs in his hair.

"Raike," his master coos. Sickly sweet. Oily. Like poison dripping from a blade.

That name doesn't belong to him anymore. It's a noose around his neck now, and he feels it pull taut, not-quite choking him–not yet.

He already has so many things to apologize for, if he ever sees his father again.

His master places the knife in his trembling hand, curls his fingers around it, and squeezes. It's a gentle touch, meant to ground him, but the hands around his are corpse-cold.

Raike looks at the human again, sees the panic in his eyes, feels it in the tightness of his own throat, his heart stuttering in his chest.

He's slaughtered animals before. It was a necessity of the humble life he lived before the forest, before the fight, before the Wilds. This can't be much different, can it?

(Raike's always been a good liar, especially to himself, but not this time. Not about this.)

"Please," the human sobs.

"Please," Raike echoes, but his voice is strangled to nothing by the snare his name has become.

His body is moving on its own. He can't fight it. He's tried.

"Don't be so dramatic, pet," his master scoffs. "Just do it."

Raike obeys, as if he has any other choice. He grabs the poor bastard's hair. He tries to keep his grip gentle, but his body refuses–it's not his body anymore, not now–as it jerks his head back to expose his throat. The man gasps, sniveling pleas and prayers to a god Raike's never heard of.

Forgive me, Raike thinks desperately as he brings the knife to the human's throat and across it with one quick, practiced slash.

As it turns out, cutting a human's throat is not the same as cutting that of a goat or a rabbit. The cut is not as clean as he hoped it would be.

Though the rites are screaming through his head with the clarity of years of rote memorization and practice, Raike is not praying to the God of his bitter adolescence.

The face he pictures is lined and austere, gentle black eyes and greying hair.

Forgive me, he pleads a man he hasn't seen in so long, will probably never see alive again. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

"Good pet," his master purrs, running cold white fingers through Raike's hair. There are tears on his cheeks. The human's pleas are drowned in pathetic gurgles, choked for breath. His blood is burning hot and slick on Raike's hands, soaking into his shirt and plastering the fine fabric to his skin.

He feels sick. He feels empty.

His master leaves him to his theatrics, scoffing something about bards. Raike stands there, still as stone, as a man dies miserably at his feet, by his hand.

He murmurs the rites like his father taught him. He closes the man's eyes, tries to wipe the blood from his chin with an unsullied piece of his shirt.

There will be no funeral at the water's edge for this man. There will be no honor, no remembrance, no closure for his kin. This stranger dies another nameless mortal in the wilds, a plaything to be toyed with until it breaks, to be tossed away and forgotten in favor of the next curiosity.

Raike stands there, staring numbly at the body until it is carried off by his master's courtiers.

He watches the procession, and he sees his own funeral.

[ambrosiallkiss]

My last token in Faust's "triple-boosted" gacha 😂

[hyperfixatedbastard]

sweet, sweet silence

Vox x Autistic!GN!Reader

Dating the CEO of VoxTek Enterprises has its perks. You always get brand new devices before they even hit the shelves, and occasionally, Vox makes things specifically for you - like noise-cancelling headphones.

Word Count: 1.3k

WARNINGS: none!

A/N: this is for the autistic homies but it works for anyone with sensory issues! 'tis based off of my own experiences so apologies if it feels inaccurate to anyone, i'm projecting so hard rn. this is also my first time writing x reader/2nd person POV so I hope I did alright! also, i do requests if anyone would like to see more of this kind of thing :)

Dividers

"Doll, c'mere for a second, would ya?" Vox calls out to you, gesturing for you to come to his desk with a 'come hither' motion. 

You raise a brow in interest as you approach your boyfriend where he's sitting in his rather eccentric chair, tinkering with...something. You hop up onto the desk, careful to sit in a spot that you know has no important screens or buttons (you learned the hard way). You don't say anything, instead just tilting your head and waiting for Vox to show off whatever he's been working on this time.

He finally lets you see what's in his clawed hands: a pair of headphones. They're clearly a VoxTek product—the blue and red color scheme gives it away—though you're certain you've never seen these on sale before. It's not uncommon for Vox to show off new products to you before they're released, though, so you don't question it.

He smirks as he holds the headphones out to you. It's not that sly, devious smile he so often has on his screen, though; it's that grin you have when you're about to surprise someone and you just know they're going to love it. "These are for you, darling."

On one hand, you get a little excited (free shit, fuck yeah!). But on the other, you're a little worried—you're not good at receiving gifts. It always ends up awkward because you don't really know how to express gratitude in an expected, neurotypical way. But Vox is well aware of that, and he can tell when you're grateful, so you push those worries to the side and take the headphones from him.

You look at them curiously, inspecting the foldable hinges, the ear cushions, and the small assortment of buttons on the speakers. You can tell that the three buttons on the right speaker are for adjusting the volume—increase, mute, and decrease—but you have no damn clue what the button on the left speaker is for.

"Well? Put 'em on," Vox encourages you, still with that expectant grin as he anticipates your reaction.

You do as he says and place the headphones over your ears. They're certainly comfortable, but you don't see what the big deal is. You already have headphones—they’re not great, as it’s damn near impossible to drown out the unbearably overstimulating sounds of Hell, but you manage. Kinda.

Just as you’re about to ask what’s so special about these headphones, Vox presses that mystery button on the left speaker, and everything goes blissfully quiet.

Your eyes widen as you get the first moment of true silence for the first time since you arrived in Hell. The sudden difference is initially jarring, but the relief is downright euphoric. 

During the entirety of your afterlife in Hell, it's been ceaselessly loud and often unbearable. The screams, the explosions, the gunshots—it's incessant, and you never get a moment of peace. The V Tower is not nearly as bad as the rest of the Pride Ring, thanks to a lot of soundproofing, but there's always something. Moans and other lewd noises fill the halls of anywhere within five floors of Valentino's studios. You can hear the screeching and yelling beneath the thrum of music emitting from Velvette’s section of the tower. 666 Studios isn't much better, with the constant chattering of the crew and bickering between newscasters.

Vox's lair office is by far the quietest place in the entirety of Hell, at least in your experience. The soundproofing here is much more effective than anywhere else in V Tower, and Vox is the only person ever here. He does talk and maniacally laugh to himself fairly often, but you don’t usually don’t mind that (and he’ll typically quite down if he can tell you’re having a rough day). But it’s far from perfect—there’s still the intermittent click-clacking of a keyboard, the constant whirring of the computer fans, the low humming of all the tech, and the audio from whatever security camera Vox is spying on. You can tune it out most of the time, but it all overwhelms you so, so easily.

And you aren't very good at hiding it (at least not with Vox, who’s too observant for his own damn good when it comes to you).

Which is why your dear boyfriend has just spent the past several days making you the best noise-canceling headphones Hell has ever seen. He knows what the constant overstimulation does to you, and he sees it far more often than he'd like to. You get irritated and snippy, and sometimes it gets so bad you have a meltdown. It's gotten less common over time, but it still happens way too frequently for either of your likings. 

“So, who’s the best boyfriend ever?” he hints, clearly fishing for a compliment. His voice is surprisingly clear despite the headphones practically deafening you—his words are muffled, but just loud enough for you to understand what’s being said. He's grinning at you like he's the one that just got the excruciatingly heartfelt present. 

Usually, you’d have a witty comeback to Vox’s attempts at getting you to stroke his ego (always followed by an actual, genuine compliment to ease his insecurities hiding behind that ego), but you’re drawing a blank right now. 

The gift is so thoughtful that you don’t even know where to start on expressing your gratitude. Noise-canceling headphones seem so obvious now, but this is Hell! Both you and Vox had died before this technology became commonplace, and not many people in Hell care that much about the noise. Vox made these headphones specifically for you. He doesn’t need them (he can quite literally just turn off his audio input) and he probably won’t make much of a profit with them as a VoxTek product. He’s a busy man, being a CEO and an Overlord, yet he took the time to make this for you himself, not even passing the project off to one of the poor souls that works for him. 

“Babe?” Vox calls out gently, waving a hand in front of your face. Oh, shit—you’re overthinking your response so much that you forgot to actually fucking respond.

You blink a few times, meeting your boyfriend’s gaze. His brows are slightly furrowed, in what you think is a mix of concern and amusement. He’s a little worried he’s fucked up somehow, but he knows you well enough by now to recognize when you’re thinking too hard about something. He actually finds it quite adorable, at least when you’re not about to have a panic attack from it. 

As he looks at you expectantly, you decide to just go with your gut (at least, that’s what you think you’re doing—you’ve never entirely understood what the fuck that phrase means).

You don’t give yourself time to second-guess your actions before you’re practically jumping into Vox’s lap—though it’s more like falling since you were just sitting on the desk. He lets out a little ‘oof’ of surprise before he chuckles and moves his hands to your waist, holding you steady while being careful of his claws. He smirks as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck, jostling the headphones a little but not enough to fuck with the noise cancellation.

“So…you like them, then?” Vox prompts, just wanting the confirmation even though the answer is already clear. You can tell by his tone that he’s still grinning proudly.

You just gently nod, inadvertently rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt (fortunately, Vox is a fancy bastard with high standards when it comes to clothing, and he’d long ago thrown out any garment made with fabric that triggered your sensory issues).

“Thank you,” you murmur against his neck. 

His hands tighten ever so slightly around your waist, and his response is so soft you can barely hear it through the headphones. “Anything for you, doll.”

[samandcolbyownme]

Credit to the edit creator on TikTok for the Johnnie pictures!

This one shot is going to have reader being choked with a chain necklace, PLEASE DONT READ IF YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE!

Summary: anon request - "begging anyone that will listen to make sumthing based off this necklace bc the way he pulled it is rlly doing something to me"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, choking will be a big part of this, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, filth

I'm also going to be writing this my own way, so if you've seen the actual video it isn't going to be accurate.

Word count: 2.5k | not edited

TikTok I'm writing for specifically

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You walk up to the front door of the house, giggling drunkly to yourself as you fish for your keys inside your purse.

You're just getting home from your night out with Tara, so Johnnie expect you to come home at least, somewhat drunk.

You push the door open, seeing the empty scene as you think, he must be streaming.

He was. As you walked back the hall, you heard the faint sound of him strumming his guitar from behind the door.

The closer you get, you can hear him faintly singing. You smile as you rest your head on the door, waiting for him to finish before you gently knock and open the door.

"Uh oh. Look who it is!" He smiles at you and leans his guitar against the desk, "Guy, y/n just got home from being with Tara. Should she come say hi?"

You roll your eyes, giggling as you shake your head. He holds his hand out, "Come hither. They want to say hi."

You sigh, pushing your body off the door frame as you walk over. You lean down, waving into the camera, "Hi guys!"

"Yeah, her outfit does look phenomenal tonight." Johnnie leans back, "She always looks good, to me anyway."

You look at him and stand up, "Thank you." He lays his hands on your hips, pulling you onto his lap, "You're going to finish this stream with me."

"No." You whine lightly with a laugh, "I need a shower."

"You can get one after. Guys. I've been teaching her how to play the guitar." Johnnie smiles and you look at the screen, "No. I'm not going to embarrass myself like that." You laugh, "No way!"

Johnnie lays his hand on your leg, weaving his fingers through the openings in your fishnet stockings, "Don't worry. I'll get her to open up and play for you."

You roll your eyes, moving to snake your arm around his neck, "Maybe." You smile down at him, "I'm going to get a water, do you want anything?"

He shakes his head, letting you stand up before he places his guitar back onto his lap. You leave, quickly making your way back after going to the fridge.

You slip in, sitting on the chair off to the side and in your still, slightly drunk state, Johnnie tugging on the metal chain around his neck starts to get your mind racing with such dirty thoughts.

You bite down on the inside of your lip, adjusting how you're sitting. Johnnie glances over at you, pulling the chain to adjust it and your eyes stay fixated on it.

He smirks slightly, looking back to the screen as he leans back, sliding his hand up his arm to push his sleeve up.

He looks so good tonight.

The combination of his hair, makeup, and outfit were all the absolute perfect combination.

You were secretly hoping his stream would be done soon, you didn't know how much longer you could take without his hands on your body.

"I'll play a snippet from my new song then I think I'm going to get off for tonight."

His words caused your excitement to grow.

You couldn't wait much longer for him to finally fulfill those words.

You sat there, elbow digging into the spot above your knee as your hand rests under your chin. Your eyes stay fixated on him and he knows you're watching.

He smirks at you, pushing up his sleeves as his guitar rests in his lap. Your lip pulls between your teeth as your head slightly tilts to the side.

You need him. Bad.

After a little bit more of listening to Johnnie sing, he finally ends the live and turns to you as he sets his guitar down.

"Get over here."

His words have you up on your feet with in a second after rolling off of his tongue. You walk over, straddling his lap and running your hands over the sides of his neck.

His hands slide over your hips and you whimper out a quiet, "Need you."

"I know." He smirks, "I could tell since you came home." He bites down on his lip ring and nods towards the door, "Come on."

You get up, taking his hand as he leads you to his room. He pulls you in front of him, hands on your waist as he guides you backwards into the room.

He reaches back, pushing the door shut before laying his hand on your neck, "You look so good." He leans in, connecting his lips to yours.

"I can say the same about you." You gently bite his lip, pulling it as you tilt your head back. A quiet gasp leaves his throat and his hand squeezes your hip, "Get these clothes off. Now."

You step back, turning to face him as he walks over to the bed. You bend down, unzipping your black boots so you can stand up and kick them off.

Your hands move to your belt, undoing it as your eyes fixate on the metal change wrapped around Johnnie's thumb, "That outfit is crazy hot."

You smile at his words, "I figured you'd like it." You throw your belt on the floor and slip your fingers into the hem of your red, lace crop bralette top.

Johnnie watches as you lift it up over your head, shaking your hair slightly as you toss it to the ground with your boots.

You lock eyes with Johnnie as you push your skirt down, leaving you in nothing but your black lace panties.

He holds his hands out, indicating he wants you to come to him, and you comply. You walk over to him, straddling his lap again. His hand slips down between your thighs and he smirks, "What's got you this turned on, sweetheart?"

"You want me to be honest?" You smirk slightly as Johnnie nods, "Always, baby."

Your hand drags up his chest, tangling the metal chain around your finger, "This. How fucking hot you looked while playing with it."

He licks his lips, "What do you want me to do with it?" He tilts his head, "Actually. Don't tell me, I'll just.." he trails off, lifting it up over his head and placing it around your neck.

His eyes scan over the chain hanging down between your boobs, "mm. I see what you mean." He smirks and grabs the chain, pulling you in to kiss him.

The kiss quickly turns heated, grinding down on him, moaning out as he bites down on your lip.

"P-please." You whimper out, desperate for his cock at this point, "Johnnie.”

He leans back, brushing hair from your face, "Hands and knees baby." You move off of him, crawling up the bed to hold your weight up with your hands pressed firmly into the bed.

You can hear Johnnie get undressed, but your mind is racing about one thing.

That chain tightening around your neck.

The bed dips down behind you and Johnnie slides your panties down, letting them drop to your knees, causing your heart rate to pick up.

It picks up drastically, when he slides a hand up your back and moves it under your hair to grab the chain.

He slowly and teasingly pulls it back, dragging it over your shoulders until it's pulled tight against your neck.

You gulp with excitement, knowing why Johnnie’s necklace was around your neck was exhilarating.

There’s just enough pressure, you can still breathe normal, but you can tell with one yank, your air supply will be cut well in half.

“Bring your ass up, baby.” Johnnie lays a hand on your hip and you drop your shoulders to the bed, the chain pulling tighter the further you move down towards the bed.

“You are so fucking sexy.” Johnnie says lowly as he admires the position you’re in. He grabs his cock, stroking it a few times before tapping the head of it against your wet slit.

You bite your lip, gripping the blanket below you as you feel him slowly push his cock into you.

You let out a moan, pushing your hips back to gain more of him.

He pulls the chain, causing it to grow tighter.

“Fuuuck.” He breathes out, fingers digging into your skin harder as he slides in more, “Shit.” You whimper at both the feeling of his cock and the chain tightening around your neck.

He wraps the chain around his hand, “Sit up a little for me.”

You rise up, holding your self up with your forearms on the bed. You tilt your head back and Johnnie leans forward to look down at you.

Your eyes lock with his, a strangled moan leaving your lips as he slowly pulls his cock out and slowly slides back in.

He bites his lip, watching your face twist with pleasure, “Does that feel good?”

You nod as best as you can, “Mm.”

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks and you open your eyes, whimpering out a small, “Y-yes.”

He smirks, leaning back, chain still wrapped around his hand, “I wanted to do this before you left, that little outfit you had on, fuck. It was so fucking sexy.”

He keeps the chain tight against your neck as he picks up his thrusts. It’s soon a punishing pace, the chain tightening more and more with each time his body connects with yours.

You try to moan, but you can’t.

Strangled noises leave your lips at random times.

Between the chain and Johnnie’s thrusts bringing you closer and closer to orgasm, your vision starts to go spotty.

You reach up, scratching at the chain and Jonnie loosens it. You take a deep breath as he leans forward, “You good?”

You nod, looking up at him weakly with a smile, “Uh huh. Keep going.”

He smirks, leaning back to resume his thrusts. He waits to tighten the chain, “I wanna hear ya.”

You let out a loud moan, pushing your hips back to meet his, “F-fuck.” You whine, “S-so close.” He lets go of the chain, gripping your hips to pull you back to him, slamming your body into his, “Shit.”

You drop your head down, moaning loudly as you clench around his cock, pulling the blankets as you finally hit that point.

“that’s it, baby.” Johnnie groans, “feels so good.”

Johnnie continues to fuck you, guiding you through your high before pulling out and rolling you over. Your eyes meet his as he leans down, grabbing the chain and wrapping it around his hand.

He pins it down beside your head, it tight against your neck.

He groans as he slips back into you, bringing your one leg up. His fingers dig into the outside of your thigh.

You whimper, eyes rolling back as his thrusts resume to being punishing. He leans down, crashing his lips onto yours.

You reach up, tangling your fingers into his hair, pulling, which earns a groan from him.

You loved hearing him, too.

“You’re so fucking good to me.” He whispers against your lips, “So fucking good.”

Your lips part as you watch him lean back, the chain loosening just enough for your moans to come out full volume.

He smirks, biting onto his lip as he closes his eyes. He tilts his head back, thrusts growing sloppy, “Fuck. Fuck.” He leans back down, tightening the chain once again as he rails into you.

The chain dulls your screamed moans as you drag your nails down his back. He groans loudly, “Fuckin hell.”

He dips his head down, lips attaching to yours as he pushes in, his cock twitching to coat your walls white.

He keeps his lips on yours, moving them in a slow rhythm with yours as he lets go of the chain. You take a deep breath as he moves to plant kisses on your cheek.

“You sure you’re okay?” He whispers as he brushes his finger over your neck. You turn your head to face him, “I’m good, baby.”

He picks your lips, sitting up to pull out and stand up.

He grabs his shirt and wipes off your thighs, “I really hope that wasn’t too hard.” He glances up at you as you sit up and you shrug, “Aw well.”

You laugh slightly which causes him to laugh, “I can’t believe you talked me into that.”

“I didn’t talk you into anything.” You stand up, “But I will talk you into going for a shower with me.”

“If I ever say no to that, use that chain and choke me out until I’m dead.” He walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he leads you to the bathroom.

The next morning, you wake up, sitting up to stretch as you look over at Johnnie, who’s still sleeping.

He was up late last night editing a video, so you decided to let him sleep in. You go out and start to make some breakfast before the curiosity of whether or not the chain left a mark gets the best of you.

You set down your mug and make your way to the bathroom. You flick on the light and as soon as your eyes meet your neck in the mirror, they grow wide and your mouth drops open.

“Oh fuck.” You cover your mouth, leaning in to drag your fingers down over the chain like bruise that circles around your neck, “Fuck.”

You laugh slightly, shaking your head. You look towards the open doorway as you hear Johnnie’s door open, “y/n.”

“Bathroom, babe.” You call out, leaning against the counter to wait for him. He walks around the corner, hand ruffling his hair, “What are ya doing?”

You bite your lip, “Um. I was just-“

“Holy fuck!” Johnnie drops his hands and move towards you, placing them on the sides of your neck.

His thumbs trace over the mark, “What the fuck.” He looks up at you and you can’t help but laugh, “I know. That’s why I came in here.”

Johnnie laughs in shock, “Jesus Christ.”

“It could be worse.” You shrug and Johnnie looks at you. You lean in, “I liked it. I promise. I’ll just cover it up with necklaces and stuff. No worries.”

“You are one freaky slut, you know that?” Johnnie slides his hands down to your hips and you pull him closer to you, “Those sound like fighting words.”

“Maybe they are.” He raises his brows and tilts his head, “what do ya say? Hmm. Wanna go a few rounds?”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Thank you guys for being patient and thank you for reading! I truly appreciate and love you all so much! I hope you enjoyed this! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[caramelcleopatraa]

"I want to sit on your face" ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

another porn with a atom's amount of plot

word count: 1,500~

x: !this is not proofread! 😭 please disregard any mistakes <3 I came up with this idea before my current series "suit & tie", but I never got to finish it.... until now 😏 hopefully you guys enjoy this (not quick) quick thing I whipped up.

content: oral ( f receiving )

“Baby…”

“Yes?” Roman responds with curiosity in his eyes. You had been daydreaming about a specific situation. It was almost disturbing the flow of your daily life. Your husband was always up for trying new things. You've brought up ideas to him that have led to countless nights of exhilarating love making. You didn't know why you were so nervous to tell him something so simple. Perhaps it comes with your own matter of insecurities that stopped you from telling him your newly proposed idea. “Nevermind, sorry to bother you.” You turned your back to his desk to walk out of the double doors of your home office. Roman noticed your sudden change in energy and decided to chase after you. His hand gently, but firmly, latched onto your wrist and tugged you towards him. Your back hit his sturdy torso and his hands interlaced with yours. “What’s going on? Y’know you can tell me.”

“U-uhm.. Uh…” Your heart was starting to race and your breathing became heavy. You tried to walk away from him, but you must have forgotten who you married. “Nuh uh, stay right here. Tell me what’s on your mind.” 

“Aren’t you in the middle of some work?” 

“Work doesn’t matter when my wife needs me.” He tenderly kisses the side of your neck and his hands rest on your hips. A tactic he used to calm you down when you're nervous. Just as he was about to console you, you spoke up. “Can we try something tonight?” Romans eyes locked with yours and he already knew what you were insinuating. He took your hand and led you upstairs to your bedroom. All of his movements were slow, but sure and tender. All thoughts of work were left downstairs. His focus was on making sure he could make your fantasies come true tonight. He sat on your bed and held both of your hands in his. His thumbs worked over your soft skin as his chocolate eyes looked up at yours. “Alright. What fun things have you thought of to try today, princess?” 

“I don’t know how to say this so that it sounds normal.” You nervously laugh and he joins you in laughter. Still massaging your hands, he says “Well you know i'm not gonna judge you.” “Yeah, I know” You took a deep breath and gathered the courage you needed to say the next sentence that came out of your mouth. “I want to sit on your face. But I don't really know how it’s supposed to work. Like am I supposed to completely sit or ho-” Your body was suddenly caged by Roman’s arms as he pulled you on to the bed. It wasn't long until your lips connected, cutting off your nervous rambling. Your lips danced in an intimate fight for dominance against him, in which you lost. Pulling away from him, you were finally able to get a glimpse of him. His once gentle eyes were low and dark, and laced with lust. He let go of your body, allowing you to rest next to him. He scoots all the way back to the headboard and puts his head on a pillow. He motions you to come over to him and you crawl to meet him.

‘Sit.” He says. You look at him with a surprised look on your face. Again, his hands imitate a “come hither” motion. You slowly straddle his chest and move to hover above his face. His hands dig into your plush thighs as he admires your body from below.

“So umm.. Am I supposed to-”

“Sit on my face”

“Like fully sit?” The tone in your voice shifts to a more confused one.

“Yes mama”

“What if I'm too heavy and you can't breathe?”

“Mama, I wrestle grown ass men for a living. And I'll tap your thigh if I need some air.”

His lips kissed and sucked at the inside of your thighs. “Stop worrying so much. Be a good girl and let daddy eat his pussy.” Soft moans escaped your mouth while he worked his way up your thighs. His thumb creeped up to your aching clit, softly rubbing up and down while continuing to kiss and suck on your thighs. Your head tilted back as you held onto his wrists. You started to grind against his thumb, but Roman grabbed your hips and held them in place. 

“Uh-uh. On my face.” His grip loosened, but his hands landed on your thighs and pushed you down. His arms snaked around your thighs, making it impossible for you to escape if you tried. You didn’t have enough time to process what happened, but a long stripe on your cunt fogged your brain in the best possible way. Once his tongue reached your clit, he planted a tender kiss before sucking and flicking your clit with his tongue. His hands massaged your thighs while he continued to work his magic. He rotated between teasing you with long stripes up your cunt and ruthlessly abusing your clit. 

Roman’s grip on your thighs still restricted much of your movement. You tried your hardest not to grind against his tongue, but the way he was eating you up made it damn near impossible. His hair laid sprawled out on the pillow below him. His right hand let go of your thigh and quickly slapped your ass, startling you and causing you to jump. “Fuck baby,” You moaned, loving the temporary sting on your ass. After a couple more slaps to your ass, his hand returned to its original place, hugging your thigh and holding you in place. His eyes would remain on you and momentarily close while he relished the taste of your pussy, and the loud slurping sounds he was making added on to your arousal. 

You finally succumbed and softly grinded on his tongue. A salacious moan from him vibrated your clit. In return, your moans started to get louder. You tilted your head down and locked eyes with your lover beneath you. You placed your hands on his while you continued to ride his face. You could see droplets of your juices running down his face. He gives you three taps on your thigh and you immediately rise off of his face with concern. He takes a couple of deep breaths while still keeping his hands on you. “I’m so sorry, did you not want me to do that? i’m sorry i got carried away-“

You take a moment to look at Roman. His beard is littered and decorated with your juices and he keeps eye contact with your pussy the entire time he wasn’t devouring you. “Just need a couple of breaths mama. That’s all,” He says, his eyes finally meeting your beautiful ones. The collective heavy breathing occupied the silence for a couple of seconds before you felt those same hands pulling you down to his mouth. “Don’t mean i’m done. C’mere, need to eat that pussy,” He says, before you’re forced to sit on what will be your new favorite seat. Your consistent babbles and whines only made him harder, making him eat your pussy like a starved man. He loves taking care of his baby. Whether that’s pounding you into the mattress or eating you out until you drench the sheets, it was his favorite thing ever. Seeing you lose your mind because of the things he does to you makes him so ecstatic. 

“Got me addicted to this pussy.” He knew that you loved it when he talked you through it. Every chance that he got, he was gonna talk his shit, and it never failed to make you weak. “aah- oohhh shiiiit daddy you finna- ffuuck make me cum.” He moans into your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips were moving nonstop and you couldn’t stop calling his name. You pried his fingers off of your thighs and intertwined his fingers with yours. His arms were still hugging your thighs in place, and yes, you had the headboard to hold if you lost balance. You wanted to hold him instead. “Ohh myy goddd, daddyy. I’m cummin,” You said, slurring your words due to your mind fogging orgasm. Your movements became uneven and Roman’s hold on your thighs tightened to keep you in place. You let out screams of bliss while Roman lapped up your release, while any remainders he missed landed in his beard. Roman’s hands roamed your lower body as low whines escaped your mouth. He pushed up your hips a little to plant loving kisses on your pussy. “How did I do?”

“Fuck, that was amazing,” You said between ragged breaths. Roman’s deep chuckle vibrated through your body, adding to the intimate atmosphere. You attempted to lay next to him but his hands dug into your skin, preventing you from moving.

“I’m still hungry mama.”

finished this while I was at work :p (so happy that I work at a family business or I would've never finished this today)

🏷️ tags :) @harmshake @jeyusos-girl @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede

~ your hippie author

[seat-safety-switch]

I think that our civilization doesn't give enough credit to things that are stackable. If you're anything like me, and the court has taken specific actions to ensure that my particular contagion cannot spread, then you currently possess stuff thrown all over hither and yon. That's French for "on the fucking floor."

Most of this is simply because things like to be on the floor. Gravity pulls them there. Who am I to fight the whims of the universe, right? Another reason this happens is that many desirable things in life are not easy to stack.

If you look at your shelves right now, you will notice that there is tons of unused vertical space above many of your favourite objects. You could fit more stuff in those shelves, easy, if only you could pile them safely on top of each other. Sure, we've all done a precarious wedge-and-hope from time to time, but it always results in something expensive or irreplaceable taking a penguin slide to the floor anyway.

Society has designed a lot of little moulded-plastic "organizers" which are meant to help with this. The idea is that you will buy into their system, which is meant to all interoperate with each other, and then all of your things will go neatly into the boxes that you have purchased, which themselves are stacked neatly on the shelves. Your parole officer will be impressed. Don't be fooled by this fool's gold of a dream. None of your shit fits in those bins, and even if it did, you won't be able to agree on an organizational scheme.

So, is there a solution to this problem? Yes: it's called velcro. All you need to do is glue a bunch of velcro strips to the top and bottom of your favourite things, and then you can just stick them together. Nothing will fall out, because it's all held in place by the space-age miracle of the hook-and-loop fastener.

Sure, it makes an ungodly noise when you remove them from the stack, and the 3M Corporation will soon be trying to put poison into my morning coffee over having misused their trademark, but it's the only way to go. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go figure out why all my computers keep dying from static electricity.

[the-kr8tor]

He Beckons

Pairing: fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), TW blood, CW injury, CW gore, TW death, CW body horror, CW arachnophobia.

The Fall Masterlist

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PART II >>> PART III

Your mind almost breaks trying to comprehend everything all at once. It all screams at you, at the same time the quiet deafens your ears.

The first thing you've noticed is the wind, or the lack of it. There's no leaves rustling in the wind, no howling from the harsh blow of it; like it's forbidden for the wind to come inside, it stills, forever lingering outside. The air is stale, everything around you seems to be stuck in time. Idle and waiting for something that will wake them again.

Is this a dream?

Slowly moving your head to look over your shoulder, frightened, knees threatening to give out from the fear of the unknown.

Not knowing what's behind you is much more terrifying than bracing yourself to be braver and just look.

With trepidation, you dare look behind.

You feel like lighting has struck you dead on. Feeling it curl from your fingertips up to your heaving chest. It stops where your heart is, for a second you feel it stop beating, blood coagulating inside, choking and killing your body. But your soul, your soul has never felt more alive. You feel it lifting away from you in glee, fingers reaching out to him in a way you couldn't control. Then it snaps back to you like a taut rubber band. Life returns to you in a second, eyes adjusting to the light, you take all of him in all his glory.

Him.

Human in all physicality yet primordial in nature. He takes your breath away, skin smooth, free from any imperfections, glistening in the light like polished copper. Standing tall, his hand beckons you over in a come hither gesture. Arms covered in fine webs, more beautiful than any jewel you've ever seen. You don't move, still as a rock. He tilts his head at your defiance.

His torso in full display, save for a singular vine placed horizontally on his chest, its leaves mirroring the ones clinging onto the estate's walls. Muscles prominent under the deep green of his cloak, collar reaching up to his neck, its edges stop right under his jawline. It's pinned together by a blood red spider frozen in time, holding it willingly just for him. His unusually tall stature sends shivers down your spine. He towers over you, height far too tall for a human to have.

Sauntering over to your frozen state, your eyes drift over to his legs, the entirety of his lower body is covered in tree bark. With every foot step, he leaves wild flowers in his wake. Small, colorful and something that's not of this world.

Your lungs seem to forget how to breathe with how he looms over you, casting a long shadow, blanketing your entire body. He faces you towards him with just his pinky atop your shoulder, it's enough to send electricity right through you.

"I asked you, it's rude not to answer" there's a deep rumble in his chest, almost like a purr after he notices you bravely staring deep into his eyes.

Gold swirls in his eyes like an ocean wave, you feel like drowning in its waters.

Eyes shifting down, you see him smirk, tiny vines and leaves dance under his skin. Moving and breathing like a living thing in itself. His face looks like it was chiseled by the Gods themselves, fine marble cut to perfection.

He takes your chin in between his fingers, lifting it slightly so you could look into his eyes once again. You see something dark shift in his stare, swallowing a lump in your throat, you feel his searing gaze on your neck as it bobs up and down. His scent enters your senses, he smells like morning dew over a hill after rain poured over it overnight. Flowers, you surmise, mixes in with the scent. From his touch to his narrowed gaze, it overwhelms your very being.

Not a dream.

You feel something stirring inside your gut instead of just fear. Excitement perhaps? Or is it your mind playing tricks? Whatever it is, it's pushing you towards him like a puppet on strings.

"Are you alive in there?" There's cotton in your mouth. "Do you even have a tongue?"

With a shaky breath, you speak. "I have a tongue"

Pointed ears perk up at the sound, you notice the chip on the shell of his right ear. Thorns piercing the skin decorate his ears.

"She speaks" He lets go of your skin, stepping back to take you in. Flicking his eyes back to your face, he smiles in satisfaction.

With measured steps, cloak dragging across the grass. His eyes never leave yours as he rounds over a long table full of sweets and wine inside intricate glass pitchers.

Was that always there?

Sitting down at the head of the table, a tall chair made of marble with moss and engraved spiders decorating it. The large weeping willow looms over the entire table, providing shade from the mysterious sunlight. He gestures for you to sit right next to him. Your knuckles tighten as you fight with yourself.

Will you oblige?

Better judgment wins this round, you gawp at him like an animal cornered by a hunter. Afraid that if you lift your gaze from him for a second, he'll appear right in front of you and devour you whole.

"Who are you?" Your question echoes in the glade, you feel a blade of grass kiss your leg.

"Y'know I could ask you that myself, you're the one who barged in, hm?" He leans on the table, hand placed on his cheek nonchalantly. "May I have your name?" The sentence whispers right into your ears.

A trick, You purse your lips from forming your name.

He clicks his tongue after a beat of your silence. "Fuckin' hell, you're not very good at talking, huh?" His words are weirdly human, sounding like someone you would have encountered anywhere.

"I'm not giving you my name" knitting your eyebrows together, you briefly flick your eyes over to a dilapidated arch in the far right corner. You're sure that's the exit from this dreamscape.

Smiling, webs form around his arm right in front of your eyes. Nails as dark as death and sharp as a knife scratches at his cheek.

You've had enough of his charade, you lunge at the arch, running as fast as you can. Barely making it, your body stands still right in front of it.

"What–?" Your feet feels like it's stuck in a rat trap, unable to keep running. Looking down with a gasp, you see sticky webs cling to your jeans, tightening around your ankle, threatening to cut off blood flow.

"Not what you think it is, love. Trust me you're better off here" he moves his legs over to the arm rest, his back lounging over to the other. His hand absentmindedly stirring at the tea cup on his lap.

You yelp when a web pinches your skin. "You can't keep me here" bravery helps enunciate your words.

"'m not tryin' to, you're free to go. Didn't invite you in, remember? A bit rude of you, innit?" He drinks loudly from his cup, watching your face contort from pain into anger.

"Give me your name and I'll tell you mine" you seethe.

He laughs loudly, a booming sound like thunder clapping. "Shit, you've got some cobblers on you, tell you what." He sits up, throwing the delicate tea cup over his shoulder, it bounces right on the grass with a thud. "I'll say mine, just because I like anger on you better than fear" he winks, tilting his head, placing his hand over his chest.

"Got a lot of names but I prefer Hobie the best." He points with his long finger at you still stuck on the ground. "Now, your turn"

"Release me first," you say through gritted teeth. "Hobie"

He exhales at the sound of your voice uttering his name, lashes fluttering close for a split second. "'m not the one doin' that, placed that there just in case people like you decide to run into that entrance. Just like I said before, not good for either of us"

Hobie waves his hand, and just like that, the webs dissolve at your feet, releasing you. He waits with a tap of his nails over the wooden table.

"My name's–" you stop yourself, what will happen if you actually tell him your name? Will you get stuck here? Breathing heavy, you spot clovers growing on the foot of his chair. You've got a better chance with a lie.

"Clover, name's Clover"

"Well, clever Clover." He stands up to his full height, all seven feet of him. A large spider crawls over his chest. Alarm bells start ringing in your head. "What are you doin' here?"

Slowly craning your neck up to meet his eyes, you stop breathing while his stare bores a hole right through you, like a God looking down at his acolyte.

"I'm looking for a dog" you say in a small voice, toes clenching inside your trainers. Previous bravery gone.

"You're not gonna find her here" tilting his head, he picks up a stray leaf that fell right on your shoulder. Hobie twirls it in-between his fingers, noticing your slightly shaking form. "Are you afraid?"

Your neck aches, muscles shaking under your head. "No"

A half lie in itself, you're afraid of the uncertainty, not of the being before you. There's a strange familiarity between you, something you can't quite name.

"That's the difference between you and me, I can't lie." Grumbling, he crushes the leaf in his hand. "Trust me, dog's not here" Hobie brushes his knuckles over to the smooth skin of your cheek.

You flinch back but you stand your ground. "Did you take her?"

"What would I do with that dog?" Narrowed eyes, he chuckles darkly.

Still toe to toe with the otherworldly being, you even out your breathing, "Where is she then?"

Hobie shrugs, "dunno" he turns around, making his way back to his seat. "Why don't you sit down and have a cup with me?" Tempting, the sweet fragrant smell of grapes beckons you over.

You scoff, ignoring the temptation. "No, I'm leaving" you walk towards the arch again.

Lighting fast, Hobie takes you by your arm, wind rushes past you with how quick he moved.

"Don't. Do. That." His voice booms like a gong signaling your own death. There's a storm raging behind his eyes. Yet your body and soul flutters in his hold.

He steals your breath, eyes angrily looking behind you, at the dilapidated arch, the most normal thing in the entire glade. The wind whispers past your ears, listen, girl.

Guiding you away, his hold on you tender yet stifling. Hobie sits you down on one of the chairs whilst you watch him closely, looking for a sign that he might start attacking you with his claws. Instead of striking you down while he has you in his grip, he folds his knee, kneeling before you. Cloak pooling around his feet, drowning in green. Now leveled with your gaze, Hobie's eyes soften, releasing his touch over you.

"Don't go over there, that's not the way out" his voice soft, concerned and full of fondness. Without a second thought, he takes your hands, cupping each one in his large ones, avoiding his sharp nails from scraping your palms. Weirdly enough, you let him.

The ache in them wanes for only a moment.

Your heart pounds under your ribcage. "I need to get out of here" leaning over, you stare deeply into his eyes, pleading. Perfect eyes swirl into brilliant brown, liquid gold mixing within the pools.

As if waking from a trance himself, Hobie lets your hands go quietly, only lingering over to your fingertips for a brief second. You feel the history under his calloused fingers. He stands up, looming over you once again. Gold glimmering in his sockets, mouth agape. Face full of hidden loneliness.

Wordlessly, he puts both his hands over to the chair's armrest, your breaths mixing together in harmony. Then he pushes the chair over, and like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, you fall.

Darkness once again envelopes you.

Back hitting the moist grass, you sit up by your elbows. The sun slowly setting, the heavens above cries as large droplets of rain fall harshly on your skin.

Gasping, you return to reality. "What the fuck?" Your voice merely a whisper against the loud pelting. Eyes fighting to stay open whilst water spray on your face, you find yourself back on the edges of the woods.

A thick mist covering it all, hiding behind the curtains as it draws back down over the woods.

Not a single tree or blade of grass can be seen from the outside. You only hope Nellie's alright inside.

Standing up from the wet soil, you groan, trying to get your foot out of the mud. You take a deep breath, hands shaking from what transpired. His face stamped permanently in your brain like a song you can't get rid of, repeating over and over again.

—

The rain knocks roughly against the windows, fogging up the glass as you sit on the alcove. A stark difference from the marble chair you were on just a few hours ago. The warm cup tethers you back to reality, scalding hot on your bandaged hands.

Watching over the woods, your brows knit together, trying to recall what just happened to you. It seems like you've found yourself in a folk story, a story where parents tell their children so they stay away from the dark woods. Either that or the isolation is getting to your head already. But you doubt it, you've always been alone, so called friends ignoring you once they get what they've wanted from you. Exes leave you high and dry just before anything could get serious enough. It's safe to say you're used to being alone, used to your voice being unused for months on end. But you can't help feeling like life has passed you by.

That's why you took this job, because you're naturally a solitary person; even though you don't admit that it gets lonely sometimes and the silence at the end of the day makes you weep for the life unlived. It gets worse with every passing birthday you've celebrated alone in your home, there's a longing, a hole in your heart that you can't find anything to fill it with. You thought this job would be it, if people can't provide it, why not a change in career, right? You thought if you did a good enough job, Mr. O'hara would hire you permanently. Well, that's down the drain until you find his dog, wherever Nellie is right now.

Once the rain stops and the ground solidifies, you'll make your way back to the edge of the woods to try and get her back home. Until then, you'll sleep and rest. She's just fine, she probably knows the woods better than anyone.

As the night drags on, your eyes grow heavy, back sliding down on the cushion to sleep. Folded in half, you succumb to the sandman's call. Drifting, you hear fabric moving behind you.

"Hi"

You flinch back from the whisper in your ear, their breath tickling the shell of it. Yelling in surprise as you glimpse someone running outside your room, blue cloth whizzes past the hallway in a flurry. Feet skittering, a giggle making your heart skip a beat in fear.

"H-hey! You're not supposed to be in here!" Your socked feet hit the icy floors, cold seeping inside the fluffy material. Running after the culprit, you almost slip and fall over the handrail, vertigo almost making you sick as you look over the first floor. Your head turns towards the sound of thudding feet on the spiral stairs.

Following the sound from above, you spot the intruder standing on the stair landing. Dark curls in a neat ponytail, staring blankly ahead.

Your breath hitches in your throat as she looks up. Her smile marred by blood coagulating inside her mouth, empty eye sockets gazing up. Gasping, you fall to your knees, hiding yourself from her petrifying gaze. The wood scratches at your already injured hands, blood seeping out from the gauze.

She giggles again, running out of the house, she yells excitedly, "come find me!"

Your palms turn clammy, goosebumps erupt over the once smooth skin. Her small voice echoing in your mind like a siren calling you over. Despite better judgment, you stand up from your position, running after her in an attempt to stop the incessant ringing in your ears.

Busting the doors wide open, wild wind enters the abode, pushing you back inside. Your eyes sting, fighting the stabbing air with your arm protecting your face.

With a blink she appears right in the middle of the open field, the tall grass dancing at her feet. Nonexistent eyes watching you. Different voices call out to you in whispers. Both warnings and temptations.

"Run away" "Please help" "Come here" "Enter" "don't take her!" "beware" "Be wary, be wary, be wary, be wary" "My baby!" "Where is he?" "Don't be like her" "Listen to the wind, girl" "over and over and over" "tis not a place for you" "Punished" "Worse things" "turn around" "let me in!"

"I'm right here"

They overlap with each other, screaming louder whilst you fight off nature. The girl raises her arms for you, veins blue, thorns protruding out of her skin, ichor once again drips down on the grass, staining the entire field. A sea of blood red sways wildly in the gust of wind.

Your feet are swallowed by mud, hindering you from reaching the girl. You continue on, treading through the muck. You have no idea why but your mind is telling you she begs for your help, and only you could provide it.

Struggling, legs aching, the thick sludge slowly swallowing your bottom half, now rising up to your thighs, it's cold and prickly on your skin.

"Hang on!" You scream through the noise. The pained howls of the dead get louder and louder as you try to reach her. The mud now up to your chest, crushing your lungs. "Almost there!"

Your fingertips graze her palms, sighing in relief, the soil now clinging to you like second skin. "I've got you!"

Just before you take a hold of her, she suddenly gets flinged back towards the woods, into the dark void while you listen to her screams.

"No!" Your cry is muffled by dirt choking you, tongue tasting the bitterness, iron filling your lungs. The ground devours you whole, shouts silenced. Your hand only remains over the soil that has hardened. Burying you alive, suffocating, fingers stiff, twitching for a minute before you join the dead.

You wake up gasping for air. Body almost falling off the alcove. Coughing, you can still taste the earth on your tongue.

On wobbly legs, vision tilting, heart pounding, you run towards the bathroom, your hip landing painfully on the door. You're sure it'll bruise.

You don't even bother turning the lights on, feeling for the sink, hand sliding along the cold walls, memory guiding you towards it, you don't waste time opening it when the cool metal hits your bandaged palms.

You guzzle water directly from the faucet, trying to get the disgusting taste out of your mouth. Coughing violently, you finally get rid of the lingering taste with a final spit. Splashing cold water on your sweaty face, the warm water sticking to your lashes, you blink awake.

"Fuck" you watch the water swirl around the drain inside the basin. Evening out your breathing, you look in the mirror.

Instead of pristine tiles, the woods appear behind you, with every blink, glowing eyes materialize, staring relentlessly at you in between trees. Something else watches you, an ominous presence hiding amongst the benevolent ones. A shadow reaches out, clawed hand encircling your neck.

With a quick movement, you flip the light switch open. You're back inside the opulent bathroom, body shaking in fear.

"Not real, not real" you tell yourself whilst blinking back tears. "Not real"

—

Your hand tightens around Nellie's food bowl filled with dog food, it's been a full day since you went outside, too anxious to even look out the window. Yet you stand on the large porch, staring daggers at the soil. Your dream still frightens you, seemed too real for your brain to just come up with it. You can still feel the sludge choking you and the girl's bloodstained hands calling you over.

With an uneasy step, you stand on the moist ground. Sniffing from the cold, you shake the bowl, calling out to Nellie. Roaming around the estate, careful not to go over the edge of the woods this time, you find yourself standing outside the family mausoleum. The large concrete doors wide open, inviting you in.

The single skylight allows sunlight to filter through, highlighting the farthest center tomb, its engraving almost illegible from the wear and tear of time. A carved rose lay on top of the marble, its stem snapped right in the middle. Twin inverted torches sit on either side, guarding the person in their eternal rest.

You can't look away, the headstone seems to get closer and closer to you the longer you observe.

"Fuck no" backing away, you shake your head. "Nellie! Come girl before I lose my goddamn mind!" Your voice is carried by the wind.

You have an urge to go to your car and drive home, alas you've signed a contract, leaving now will definitely get you sued.

The sun slowly sets in the horizon, still no sign of the border collie. The cold freezes your bones, breath creating clouds with every yell of Nellie's name. You sit on the steps of the porch, dejected, huffing while shaking Nellie's blue bowl.

"I'll never find that dog like this" going back inside, fighting a sneeze creeping up your nose. You drop her bowl haphazardly on the floor, tin clanking on the floor, spilling dog food.

The metal necklace lay untouched on the counter, you have an idea but you don't like it one bit.

With a shaky breath, swallowing your fear, you take the necklace, closing the clasp around your neck. "I'm stupid and I'm gonna die" opening the fridge, you take a carton of milk and a jar of honey. "Can't fucking believe I'm doing this. This is stupid and I'm talking to myself."

Even with your mind full of apprehension, you find yourself outside, feet tethering off the edge of the woods. Armed with a torch, spool of thread and a bag full of milk and honey, you venture forth into the growing dark.

"Nellie!" Frustrated, you yell.

The light from your torch searches the ground for any signs of Nellie. Eyes flitting back and forth from the ground to the tree where you've tied a red string to its low branches. You're not getting lost this time.

"Nellie–!" You suddenly get flinged back, landing hard on the grass. Hobie looks down at you with a look you can't decipher. "Oh shit"

"You shouldn't scream in the woods, love. Something else might find you first"

"Like you?" You aim your frustration at him, regretting it almost immediately.

"Good thing I was first then, hm? There are worse things in these woods than me." With a helping hand, he reaches down for you. "Well?"

With a grunt, you hold his hand, not missing the familiarity of his skin against yours. Your heart beats loudly at the contact. Tugging you up effortlessly, his hand lingers for a second as if savouring the connection.

"I need your help," noticing his smaller stature, still taller but more human than before, you don't mention it. "Please"

"Blunt as always" turning his back, he saunters over back to his chair. You spot daisies stitched on his cloak, noticeably not a part of the original design.

"Can you help me find her, please. I'm worried"

"Worried about her or worried that you'll get in trouble for losing her" he raises an eyebrow.

"Both, she's a good dog, she doesn't deserve to get lost in these woods. And not losing my job helps too" you bravely take a step forward, the edge of the long table bumps your bruise.

"She's not the one who's lost" Hobie stares at you intensely, you stand on opposite sides of the table, watching eachother, learning and acquainting with every twitch of muscle and exhale.

Hastily taking out your offerings, the carton of milk sloshing as you place it on the table, the jar of honey banging loudly on the wood.

"Will this be enough?"

You jump back ever so slightly when he laughs loudly. A thunder strike sounded out. Slapping his knee, doubling over in his chair.

"What?" Hobie wipes a tear, chuckling through his words. "Milk and honey, really? Where'd you learn that?"

"Stories" you stand confused, finger playing with your bandages.

"From what? The thirteenth century?"

"Maybe" you say in a small voice, humiliated by the otherworldly being laughing at your face. Mumbling out quietly, "you probably don't even know what year it is"

"Tell you what," Hobie leans forward on the table, arms crossed over the other, lips curled into a smile. "I'll help you, for a price of course"

"If you want my first born you'll be waiting for awhile"

"Not that" he shakes his head.

The anticipation thrills you, ears waiting for what he asks.

"Just a thank you from you is all I need"

You blink in surprise, a second after that, realization hits you. "Oh" you're already thinking of a way to deceive the deceiver.

"Deal?" Hobie tilts his head, waiting for your answer.

"Only if she comes back home" you lay the condition. "Alive and well"

"'course and she will" he sits up comfortably.

"Deal"

He hums in satisfaction, "Sleep and old Nellie will be back" with those words, Hobie waves his hand, taking you back on the estate grounds.

Landing on your chest, the ground greets you once again. You groan out in annoyance. "Will you stop doing that?!"

You swear the wind laughs at you.

—

You wake up with slobber all over your face. Nellie standing on your bed, tail wagging happily once your eyes open.

"Nellie! Holy shit!" You hug her neck, nuzzling her wet fur. "Oh you're so dirty! Where have you been, old girl?" Petting her, she barks in reply.

"Yeah? You okay?" You scan her for injuries, finding none, relief finally washes over you. "Guess I have to thank him now, huh?"

Nellie sticks out her tongue, tilting her head in question.

"You hungry? Come on!" You and Nellie race each other downstairs.

—

"Hobie? I'm here to hold up my end" you wander the woods, fingers looped around the thread. "Hello?"

You hear shambling in the distance, chains rattling, rotting flesh fills your nostrils.

"Augh" covering your nose with your jumper sleeve, you continue calling out for Hobie.

Long arms appear behind you, enveloping your entire body. Your scream gets cut off with his large hand over your mouth, nails digging into your skin, leaving indents.

You're back in his abode, eyes looking up at his furious glare towards the pained moans. His arm protectively around your waist, you can feel his tensed body behind you; the spider on his cloak gazes down upon you, legs twitching at the sight of you.

The sounds finally fade after a moment, Hobie takes his hand away from your lips, turning you to face him, you find an angry slash on his chest with an identical one on his palm.

Without thinking once again, you take his injured hand. "What happened?"

"Necklace, don't mind that." He takes his hand back to his side. "Didn't I tell you to stop yelling in the woods?"

You ignore his question "What was that?"

"Something worse than me" he brushes his knuckles over the indentations he left on your skin. "You came back" you don't flinch away.

"We had a deal. I'm here to hold my end"

"Everything comes back here eventually" his eyes glazed over, Hobie fixes your collar, fingers grazing on your neck, he doesn't mind the sting from the metal. He comes back to his usual self, taking a precise step back. "What do we say then?"

"I-" his eyes shine knowingly. "I appreciate the help, Hobie"

Chuckling, he shakes his head. "Clever as ever" you dance around each other like a well choreographed waltz.

"I am, aren't I?" You smile at your own ingenuity.

"You are." He copies your smile, hiding sadness behind it all. "Go home, Clover"

There's a sick longing in you. Biting and gnawing your insides, you have no idea if it's him doing this to you or there's something else making you feel this way.

"Will I see you again?" You blurt out, surprising yourself.

"Can't stop you, do what you want" Hobie once again turns his back to you. “You do know what I am, right?”

“Yes, you're an elf right?” you joke, earning a deep chuckle from him. Beaming at Hobie, satisfied with his reaction, you clear your throat. "Alright" you bid goodbye.

He looks over his shoulder, "Call my name in the woods and I'll send you back here" your heart soars at his comment. "Just don't yell it next time, not in that context anyway"

Hobie snaps his fingers just before you could reply back a quip. You land more softly this time. Eyes bright, looking up at the orange sky with a fond smile.

—

Once the dishes are cleaned, Nellie is fed and asleep, all surfaces dusted, doors locked, you lay on the soft bed, mind still reeling from the past events. The canopy swirls in your tired vision, making your eyes slowly shut close to slumber.

You dream of him that night, vision warbling, noises muffled like you're underwater. He looks at you with a youthful smile, head tilted, waiting, dying for you to answer back. Hobie looks almost the same, yet his eyes sparkle with anticipation, no longing underneath.

The air is warm and comfortable like a welcome embrace from a loved one, none of the biting cold that you're used to. Carnations and poppies dance without a care in the world.

Instead of the growing familiarity of the glade, you stand on a hill in the middle of the woods with him leaning on a large oak. Your long cotton skirt brushing along your legs, fingers clutching on the puff of your long sleeves, corset tight on your ribcage, his face stealing what little breath you have.

"I asked you, it is rude not to answer"

Your mouth moves on it's own, "My name is–"

A/N: sorry this update took so long 😔 ms rona was kicking my ass. Thank you for reading!

[tinyidle]

Alr I've thought about this a lot: Dom Yuqi x Fem reader smut fic (Yuqi is g!p only if your comfortable with it) where R is a former stylist and is now manager for G-idle and during a concert, (can't decide between Nxde era or Tomboy era so your pick) there's a wardrobe malfunction with Yuqi's outfit and all stylists already left so R has to help her and Yuqi seduces her and it ends with the members going where tf are they and they see both of them and realize what actually went down cus it sure as hell wasn't R helping Yuqi (not in that way at least ;) )

(Also R calling Yuqi mommy bcs she is and no one can tell me otherwise)

degradation kink if possible

word goal: 1000

goal accomplished?: yupp; 1.3 k

😁😁

I Just Know You Did This On Purpose - SYQ

WARNING: smut ofc, public-ish sex (they sort of get caught), begging, inappropriate horniness, mommy kink, praising degradation bratty!yuqi, switchdom!yuqi, g!p yuqi, b!g d¡ck gigi all my 'characters' with d*cks will never have small ones, bratty-yet-compliant reader, switchsub!reader, fem reader, fiction

it was the 'tomboy' promotions, the first comeback they had in over a year, yet (g)i-dle were being warmly welcomed by all the loving support from fans and idol counterparts alike. you especially liked it since you get to see your girlfriend in action while in korea, not just china.

they had tons of gigs and shows to do, and were to have a world tour soon. what you loved about all this was that you were managing the entirety of their schedules, making sure they got adequate rest and had tons of fun while practicing and performing.

in one college concert, the staff were running back and forth for yuqi-- specifically the stylists. one by one each one was leaving for their lunch break, while one was particularly struggling with the costume piece.

"ugh! i cant find shorts that'll fix this problem," you heard one of the stylists exclaim. you were about to walk over to ask what the problem was until you saw the stylists towards you. "can you please help us with this problem, sunbaenim?" you nodded and headed towards yuqi.

checking to see what the problem was, you asked the rest of the members and staff to clear the room. "i can handle this, but i need everyone to leave and go to the practice stage and monitor the girls as they dance to make sure their clothes don't malfunction. got it?"

idle and the staff politely agreed, bowed, and left to do practice. when the room was silent with only the two of you, you kneeled down. "okay, let's see what's the pro-

-blem," you rolled your eyes.

what made you and the stylists concerned was literally nothing more than a yuqi-problem than an actual wardrobe malfunction.

your girlfriend was horny.

unfortunately, when the brightly-colored haired girl got hard, her bulge would be all but unnoticeable. and no other place would be appropriate for her to be having thoughts to encourage her current wood than here, but alas, here it was, straining against her jeans.

you frowned and began to scold the taller woman. "how the fuck am i supposed to get this fixed before your stage?" as you felt a hand come and caress your face, you quickly swatted it away. "not now gigi," you warned.

yuqi pouted as you snorted at your cockblocking your girlfriend. "pleaseee," she tried pleading with you. "i need my baby in order for this to go away."

you weren't having it. "go rub one off and then ill see you later." you got up and attempted to head out the door. until you found out it was locked. you turned around and saw yuqi's pants to her knees, panties also down; her thick, long shaft slightly swinging back and forth like a pendulum. "did you-"

"i told shuhua to lock the door on the way out," yuqi explained. with a stretch of her hand and a curl of her finger, she motioned you to 'come hither', or, in layman's terms, come towards her. there was no way you could get out of this now, so you decide to heed to the action and, well, hither.

"you know that my cock's too big to 'rub one off,'" yuqi quoted you mockingly with air quotes as you scoffed. "besides, the only thing that get me off is your, tight, warm pussy."

you, getting instantly turned on by yuqi's expletive seduction, tried hard to not show it. but it failed because you found yourself kneeling down, pumping yuqi's aching cock.

"mmh, just like that, sweetie," she praised you. "stroke it just like that. my perfect whore." you were swift yet precise: not a crevice of skin was left untouched, the base was given as much care as the meaty tip, and your hands felt like baby's skin to yuqi.

she was soon to bust on your face if you didn't put it in your mouth. "put my dick in your mouth, sweetie," yuqi instructed you. and so you did. at first you struggled to get her girth in, but with tons of practice (which is what the chinese woman should have been doing with her members at the moment), you were deepthroating her within the one minute it took for yuqi to lose it and nut in your tight mouth.

as you pumped yuqi back to full hardness, yuqi whined. "let me taste you," yuqi begged, her hands going up and down your smooth legs through your tight-fitted jeans..

"oh no, yuqi. i gave you a blowjob; that's all you're getting from me." and yet, here you are now, bent over while yuqi was equally bent over your backside. she held each side of your ass cheeks, spreading them open to plunge her tongue deeper into your fluttering hole. you found yourself whimpering when you felt a manicured finger glide unto your clit and started rubbing small circles.

"s-ss-shit," you gasped, your essence pouring out of you as yuqi started kissing around your cunt and under-part of your thighs. after gaining your breath back, you turned your head around to look at your girlfriend who was still kissing you all over your bottom. "im done, gigi. now let's get you ready to practice. you only have about ten more minutes before- HEY!"

the woman wasn't having any of it, pushing you back down and putting your hands behind your back, securing it with her own two hands. "no way, sweetie," she said smugly, letting one hand go to hold her still-hard cock, rubbing it along your slit. "i need you. all of you."

you felt the surge of her dick into your hole, making you moan louder than you wanted. you did your best to whisper, "you planned this all along, did you?" instead of getting an immediate answer, you got to hear the frantic and pacing thrusts of yuqi into you, which made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

your girlfriend chuckled as she was hearing you fall apart for her. "maybe it was, maybe it wasn't," she finally answered, right when your mouth started quivering at your impending orgasm. "but it's worth it if i get to stuff you full, isn't it?"

using one of her hands again, she went to rub your clit, lowering her mouth down to suck marks into your skin. you started panting heavily. yuqi started to breathe heavily too, nearing her release, but she needed you to break first. "look at my perfect whore, all worked up because of my cock," she degraded towards you. you started whining. "aw, is she getting impatient? maybe you should beg for what you want."

as much as you wanted to scoff and tell the woman to 'fuck off', you couldn't take how your bud was being abused by her skillful slim fingers. not to mention her huge cock practically pounding in your hole. you decided to put your pride to the side and break. "please, mommy. please let me cum! i need it," you cried.

with a smile and a couple of angled thrusts, yuqi was satisfied. "good job, baby. now cum for mommy like the perfect whore you are."

..

by the time it was time to get ready for the show, the girls didn't see yuqi and was worried.

"shuhua, go get yuqi, please," soyeon instructed the maknae. bowing slightly, she practically ran to the dressing room, stunned to see both you and yuqi looking as if you were getting dressed.

when yuqi was about to explain herself, shuhua just put her hand up while closing her eyes. "it doesn't matter," she said, her eyes squeezing tight. "just get ready. we're all waiting for you."

both of you laughing, yuqi nodded and went outside. you, on the other hand, had to head to the bathroom as you felt your girlfriend's cum soaking through your panties.

might as well have titled it "perfect whore" or simply "no" lol. hopefully this gives anon what they wanted

[channieandhisgoonsquad]

Before any one of y'alls even looks at this... the answer is...

"NO, I AM NOT OKAY"

My delulu brain cannot get this gorgeous dork out of her weird ass mind. More specifically... his fucking long legs.

In my first example, you will see how tiny these shorts look and how amazingly meaty his thigh looks crossed over the other. I want to pinch the spot on the bottom to get him to either giggle, pout, or scowl at me; all are valid and acceptable options.

Like, seriously, look at how delicious they look in shorts. His calves are perfect too. Now, I am a person with a strong dislike for feet, but his look so cute. I don't want to touch them, but I would tell him that they're pretty. lol

But also, this fucker just looks SO GOOD in jeans. Especially in this picture.

His lap looks so comfortable.

Besides the fact that you can clearly see the outline of his junk, I want to straddle him while he's sitting there and tell him all of the nasty things I want to do to him and vice versa when we get home. All of those things being whispered to him while I run my hands through his perfect hair, tugging slightly when I get to the back of his head.

And sweet baby Jesus, his legs look so long when he wears skinnies. Like he is so insanely proportioned that I can't decide where to look. Obviously, in the below photo, there are a few good options.

His cute ferret face that I want to grab and smooch everywhere.

His long slender fingers that could reach places you didn't know existed.

The tight ass pants that hide NOTHING to the imagination. They're literally so tight that they're trying to push down his manhood that is fighting against them. Like FUCK you can literally see which way he prefers to tuck himself. I want to rub him through those pants so that he has to take them off from how restricted his cock is.

Even when they aren't this tight, you can still see everything. My man has no shame in the big dick game he has. And I don't think he should!

He is so dumpling and such a pretty soul. BUT DON'T YOU DARE FORGET HE IS ALSO GOING TO MAKE SWEET LOVE TO YOU WITH HIS MASSIVE COCK.

-ahem-

That man will love the fuck out of you in all of the ways he knows possible. He just also happens to have a king cobra that grows tremendously when you do anything that reminds him of why he loves you.

Sure, he isn't the tallest man out there, but he's got so much love to give to everyone important around him, and you get a good chunk of that.

Oh, and on the topic of his long legs that make me weak, he's got such a cute butt! Lee Know himself said that Hyunjin's booty is his favorite to grab. Like, fuck, that means he's gotta have a great ass under there. I want to walk kin on him in the shower and smack it.

My babe Jinnie is so amazing in so many different ways, and I want him to look like this when we take five to get water and then get right back to business. Minus the clothes of course. Phewwwww

Come hither my little ducklings... Come suffer in pure horny bliss with me.

My Spooky Pookies: @lyramundana @2chopsticks2eyes @sweetracha @moonlightndaydreams @linlinaert @caitlyn98s @stolasisyourparent @queenmea604 @diorrxluvskz @noellllslut @queen-in-the-shadows @antoniorhinothethird @chaotic-world-of-the-j @its-hannjisung @myprwttyhan

[neverinadream]

~~~~~~~~~~~ | M Y I M A G I N E S | ~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~ | Y O U B E L O N G T O M E - P A R T II | ~~

Part One

Summary: You seem to be the perfect reward for Christian after scoring his first goal of the season...or at least your mouth is.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes

Song Inspo: Unholy - Sam Smith

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, celebratory blow job, cheating, fwb!christian, dom!christian, cocky!christian, sub!reader, a smidge of possessiveness, pet names (princess, good girl...), praise kink-ish, the reader gets called a sluy, oral (christian receiving), almost getting caught not edited

Notes: again this theme is not everyone's cup of tea and sorry this took so long to post - the match refrenced to was months ago and this has been sat in my drafts half finished since then....oops! feedback is always appreciated!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His head tilts to the side, the confidence from his first goal visible in the cocky smile that curved the corners of his lips. "Well, aren't you going to let me in?" He asks, one hand holding onto the door frame, leaning partially through your apartment door. You watch his eyes flicker over your shoulder, looking deeper into your apartment and listening closely for a sign that there was someone else inside. "I know he's not here, so what are you waiting for?" He brings his attention back to you.

"Maybe he is here," you reply, folding your arms across your chest, "then what are you going to do?"

He shrugs his shoulders, attempting to act like he didn't care. "I have others," he mumbles, pushing his free hand deep into his front pocket, wrapping around what looked to be his phone, "I can always just go get my reward from them."

Swallowing your jealously, you open your front door the full way, flourishing your arm in front of you and out to side, inviting him in. "Shouldn't you be out celebrating your win?" You curiously ask, closing the door behind him. You put the latch on and lock the door, figuring that Christian probably wasn't going to leave until the morning.

He looked over his shoulder, that grin of his growing wider. "So, you watched the game then?" He asks with both eyebrows raised, a chuckle dropping off his lips as you nod your head. "You should've come to the Bridge," he mumbles, fingers walking across the kitchen island counter, the two of you passing through the kitchen area and into the back portion of your apartment.

"Should I have now?" You ask, your arms folding back across your chest, watching Christian turn and lean against the back of your sofa.

"Yeah," he crosses his legs at his ankles, him being just tall enough to perch himself on the backrest, "I might've even dedicated my goal to you," he teases you, "we both know you would've liked that."

"Don't be stupid," you chastise him, shaking your head disapprovingly at him, you didn't need to see people speculating about who his goal celebration would've been for, "and don't tease me like that."

He frowns, asking, "like what?" You roll your eyes, sighing at the snigger that fills the silence. "No, come on," he pushes you to speak, making a 'come hither' motion with one hand that your feet obliges to before your brain can protest, "how exactly am I teasing you?" His hand starts on your hip, wrapping around to the small of your back, pulling you in to stand between his legs. His head dips, his nose tracing the length of your neck, kissing you with a feather like touch. "I've only ever tease in one specific way, baby," he whispers in your ear, "so I don't know what you're talking about."

"Whatever," you mutter under your breath, dropping the topic all together. It was no secret that you liked Christian. To have a part of him, even if it is hidden behind closed doors, was better than having none of him. "So, why are you here again?" You ask, changing the subject.

A dry chuckle leaves his lips. "Have you forgotten already? I'm here for my reward."

"Your reward?"

"Yes," he nods, "my reward." His fingers touch your cheek, tracing the outline of your jaw. "Surely you've got a little something for the goal scorer?"

"I might," you reply, pulling at the hem of his shirt, "it's just a shame Kai's not really my type. I think it's the current choice of hair. Broja, however, he is cute." Christian frowns, his jaw tensing and his hand quickly dropping away from you. "Perhaps I'll give him this reward you keep asking about-"

"-No." You can't help but smile as the jealously flickers in his eyes. "No," he repeats, shaking his head, "no, you won't."

"Why wouldn't I?"

He takes a deep breath, breathing in slowly through his nose, holding it for a second and then breathing out slowly. "Because you're mine," he answers, bringing his face closer to yours, "you're not Broja's. You're not your boyfriend's. You're mine and only-"

"-I am so sorry about this," Ty's voice rings through your apartment, cutting Christian off, "but you know how these things are..."

"He's here?" Christian asks, his jaw tensing up once more.

"I did say he might be."

Turning your back to Christian, you feign a soft smile as Ty walks back into the main body of your apartment. He stops suddenly in his tracks, one hand packing a set of clean scrubs into his backpack. "Chris," he zips up the backpack, slinging one of the straps over his shoulder, "I didn't know you were here."

"He's trying to convince me to go out with him and the rest of the squad," you lie, it had gotten so much easier to lie in the last few months, horrible as it might be.

"Oh, well maybe you should," Ty replies, patting his pockets down, searching for his keys, "better than staying home on a Saturday night." He spins around, clicking his fingers when he sees them on the coffee table. "Congrats on the goal, by the way," he says to Christian, who just nods his head in acknowledgement and mumbles his gratitude, "you're probably feeling over the moon right now, first goal of the season, and all that."

"Oh, totally," Christian replies, feigning his interest into whatever Ty had to say to him, "totally feeling over the moon." He waits impatiently for Ty to leave, drumming his fingers against his thigh, and looking down at the floor to hide the rolling of his eyes as your boyfriend makes a joke about having bones to mend. Sure, Christian believed Ty's job was a noble one - he was a doctor, after all - but my god did he find him incredibly boring. "Jesus fucking christ," Christian murmurs as you come back into the room, he mimicks Ty's accent, "bones to mend - he's fucking boring."

You roll your eyes. "Christian..."

"I'm sorry," he quickly apologises, kissing each side of your neck, "he just makes it so easy to take the piss out of him."

Stepping around him, you avoid his hands as they attempt to touch you. "I presume the others are out celebrating, yes?" Ty was right. Going out would be better than staying home on a Saturday night, especially when there was a win to celebrate. Christian answers with a deep hum. "So, why aren't you with them?"

His hands finally catch you, holding the soft of your hips, pulling your back up against his chest and his head dipping into the curve of your neck, kissing you once more. "Why get drunk and celebrate with the boys when I have everything I need right here?" He turns you around, a hand touching your face and his breath fanning across you as he hovers his lips above yours. "Your lips are so beautiful," he mumbles, looking down at your lips, "have I ever told you that?"

"Once," you reply, "but you were terribly drunk."

"Want me to say it again?" Nodding your head, he chuckles, touching his thumb against your bottom lip and caressing it slowly. "Your lips are so beautiful," he repeats, his low and silky, "soft and perfect and only for me." Removing his thumb, he kisses you, humming as he feels your fingers curling tightly around his shirt, pulling him closer and returning the kiss. His hands encase your face, holding you tightly. "Only for me," he murmurs agaisnt you, "say it."

"Only for you," you repeat, your head feeling fuzzy, as though you were drunken on his kiss.

"Not Ty's?" You shake your head. "Not Broja's?" Again, you shake your head. "Just mine?"

"Just yours."

"Good," he mumbles, taking a step back and removing his jacket. He throws it over the back of your sofa, his fingers fixing the sides of his hair. Touching your chin, he leans in to kiss you again, the kiss lingering on your lips when he pulls away. "Lead the way, sweetheart," he tells you, peering down at your eyes, "don't want you hurting your knees on the wooden floor."

"Huh," you take his hand, slowly leading him to your bedroom, "how considerate of you."

"I am, aren't I?" He agrees, running his thumb across the back of your hand.

Stepping over the threshold of your bedroom door, Christian tugs sharply on your hand, pulling you around to face him. His free hand encases itself instinctively around your throat, giving it a soft squeeze, just enough to have you whimpering into his mouth as he crashes his lips feverishly against yours. You both moan when he slips his tongue past your lips, tracing it against yours and refamiliarising himself with parts of your body.

"I've been thinking about this ever since I scored," he confesses to you, breaking apart from your lips. His hand stays caught around your throat, but the other comes up to caress your face. "Thought about you," he rubs his thumb affectionately over your skin and bumps his nose against yours as moves to rest his forehead against yours, "on your knees, with those pretty lips parted, ready for me to fuck this mouth of yours." You press your body tightly against his, wanting to kiss him, but tightens his grip on your neck and it has you freezing on the spot. "Because, as much as I like fucking that tight, wet cunt, having you gag on my cock is so much fun."

"Then why are we still talking?" You ask, voice cracking as you squeeze your thighs together.

You watch the corners of his lips twist upwards into a smirk. "See, this is why I like you so much, baby," you feel the tip of his nose run against the bridge of your nose as he moves to kiss your forehead, as he mumbles against you, "you'd rather avoid the fussy stuff and jump straight in."

"Only because you don't do the fussy stuff," you bite back. The fussy stuff was for girlfriends only, he had told you once, which you found funny because Christian wasn't one for girlfriends either.

"Because that's for-"

"Girlfriends only," you abruptly cut him off, rolling your eyes, "Yes. I remember."

"Oh, come on, gorgeous," he chuckles, touching your chin, "don't sound so bitter. You are someone's girlfriend, remember? You already have someone to do all that fussy stuff for you." His thumb presses harder against your chin as he studies your face, the same smirk still dancing on the corners of his mouth. "That's why you stay with him, isn't it? Because he does the stuff I won't?"

"We've already talked about this."

His nose scrunched up as he nods his head, tilting to the side. "Right," he mumbles, removing his hands, "you like him because he's nice." He marks out the air quotes with his fingers. "It definitely has nothing to do with him providing all that emotional bullcrap you know you'll never get from me, right?"

"Why are we still talking?" You question him, avoiding his question. He lets you touch him, you hand moving to cradle the side of his face as you kiss your lips against his neck. You listen to his breath hitching in his throat as you graze your teeth over his Adam's apple. "I thought you were here to receive your reward?"

Your free hand travels down the front of his chest, lingering for a second on the waistband of his jeans, before dropping to cup his crotch. Both of you moan as you come into contact with his semi-hardened length hidden inside the confinement of the material. "No more talking," you whisper, mumbling against the roughness of his jaw, palming at him through his jeans.

He clears his throat. "On your knees then," he orders, giving your bum a light pinch.

Dropping onto your knees, he watches you unbutton his jeans and slowly pull the zipper down. He leaves you to push his jeans down, pushing the down just low enough to give you enough room. Looking up, you catch the hunger in his eyes, that turns his honey drizzled eyes dark with a type of lust that runs pleasure up your spine, tingling and building. Every single thing about your relationship was wrong, but when he looked at you with a hunger and a lust so intense like this, it made it all feel so right.

"What are you waiting for?" Christian asks, stroking his thumb across your forehead as he brings his hand down to rest on the top of your head. "Come on," he encourages, taking a deep breath in anticipation of what was to come, "be a good little slut and give me my reward."

Curling you fingers around the edge of the waistband of his grey boxers, you pull them down just enough untuck his harden cock from their tight confinement. You bite your bottom lip at the sight of him springing free from his boxers, muffling your moans.

He tuts, bringing his hand down to peel your lip from between your teeth. "You like that, baby?" You give in, nodding your head. "Good," he huffs, "now open your mouth."

"Not yet."

He watches you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft and the moan he lets out as you start to pump your hand is a mix of satisfaction and frustration. The feeling of your hand was nice, but he wanted nothing more than to feel your lips wrapped around him. Leaning forwards, he continues to watch in a mesmerised like fashion as you lick and kiss your way up from the base, stopping before you reach the tip. Your eyes flicker to look at his, grinning when you spot that he was holding his breath, desperately anticipating the feel of your warm, wet mouth.

But again you wait to give him what he wants.

He groans when he feels your hot breath touching his tip, making him think he was finally going to get what he wanted the most, but when you begin to kiss and lick back down to the base, towards his balls, he frowns. "Stop teasing-" He interrupts himself with a sharp moan, feeling you softly sucking on them.

You continue to tease him, touching everywhere but the tip, that was throbbing and glistening with his pre-cum, aching to be touched. "Fuck," he drawls, running his finger through his hair, "you look so good, princess. But, come on now, let's stop with the teasing."

"It's not nice to be teased, is it?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. You lick your lips and wrap your hand back around the base, squeezing it a little, just enough to make him groan.

"Oh, ha, ha," he mocks, rolling his eyes, "now open that pretty little mouth of yours."

Slowly, you lower your mouth onto him, a low moan emitting deep from in your throat, vibrating against him, as his grip on the back of your head tightens, his hips lifting to speed up the process. You look up at him through your eyelashes, a look of smugness spreading across your face that only made him want to fuck it out of you later. For now, he'd settle on just fucking your throat.

His hand moves with your head, tugging and pulling on your hair, groaning out loud and throwing his head back each time he would hit the back of your throat, or feel you hollowing your cheeks. To him, it felt like you trying to suck his soul out. His thrusts are deep and precise, and has your gagging noisily around him as you move to meet each of his movements perfectly.

"Shit, baby girl!" He hisses, feeling your nails digging into the tops of his thighs. Looking up you see his mouth hanging open, panting and chanting your name like a prayer of sorts. "Fuck, I'm so close," he tells you, looping his fingers through your hair and digging their tips into your skull.

You moan your approval, speeding up your movements, which grow sloppy the faster you become. Pulling off him for a quick second, you encourage him to cum. "Do it, baby," you beg him, pumping him with your hand, "give it to me." You lick your lips, guiding the tip back into your mouth to suck on it. "I want it all," was the final thing you say, before you're taking him into your mouth.

His body vibrates as pleasure shoots through his body. "Shit-" His mind goes blank, with white spots hazing his vision as he spills down your throat. "That's it," he loudly moans, a groan nestled deep emitting from his chest, "just take it, baby, just take it all for me. Good fucking girl!"

Dazed and slightly light-headed, Christian watches you clean your mouth, using your thumb to clean the corners. He swallows a deep breath of air as you lick your thumb clean.

Tugging you up to your feet, you let out a squeak of surprise as he crashes his lips against yours. He can taste traces of himself, running his tongue over yours, and softly moans into your mouth. Pulling apart, he presses his forehead against yours, stroking his thumb affectionately against your cheek, causing your eyes to close and soak in the rare moment.

And instead of rushing through the moment, he let's it happen. He watches the smile that tugs slightly on the corners of your lips and notices how you lean into his touch. And there it was again. That warmth in his stomach he had to keep telling himself to ignore every time you were near.

"I lo-"

"Y/N?" The sound of Ty's voice pulls you both out of the moment, interrupting whatever it was that Christian was going to say, and has your eyes snapping open. "Y/N, are you in here?" He shouts louder. You panic as you hear the footsteps approaching the bedroom door, glancing frantically around your room for a place for Christian to hide. "Y/N?"

Your hands collides heavily with Christian's arm, pushing him, or at least trying to, towards your bathroom. "Get in the bathroom!" You hiss, pointing with your other hand.

"And what if he wants to use it?" Christian asks, stumbling as he works quickly to fasten his jeans.

"Are you-" Sighing, you follow him into the bathroom, swinging the door shut behind you. You listen closely for the bedroom door opening, the sweat on the back of your neck becoming uncomfortable as you hear Ty's footsteps enter the room. "Chris?" You call out, trying not to show the anxiety you were feeling in your voice.

"What are-" You clamp your hand over Christian's mouth, giving him a silent warning in the form of a sharp glare.

"No, darling, it's just me," Ty answers, there's a rustling sound like he was searching for something, "I forgot my watch!" He happily cheers when he finds it, causing Christian to roll his eyes, mumbling something into the palm of your hand. "Did you say something?" Ty's voice travels through the bathroom door.

"Eh, no," you answer, pretending to cough, "just...just clearing my throat. Eh, did you find it?"

"Got it!"

You let out a sigh of relief; his phone call earlier had been one of an emergency and you knew he wouldn't be able to stick around for any longer.

"Oh, good," you fake your happiness, staring up at the ceiling to avoid Christian's staring back at you, "so, I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

"I'll bring back breakfast from that cafe you like," Ty replies, happily chuckling at the thought.

"Sounds perfect!"

You wait until you had heard your apartment door open and close before you lowered your hand, releasing a breath you hadn't even realised you had been holding in. Without a second thought behind it, you step into Christian's chest, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder, burying your face into his body. "That was close," you mumble against him.

"Too close," Christian agrees, finding himself hesitant to touch you. Eventually, he places his hand on the small of your back, idly rubbing his thumb in soft circles.

Lifting your head away, you find him gazing down at you, like he had almost been waiting for you to look up at him. "What were you going to say?" You ask, remembering he had been in the middle of saying something before Ty's unexpected return. He raises his eyebrows questioningly at you. "Before Ty's interruption, you were saying something," you explain, before asking, "what was it?"

He quickly shakes his head. "It was nothing." He keeps shaking his head. "Doesn't matter now." Dropping his hand away from your body, he clears his throat. "God, I am starving," to you it felt like he was purposely trying to change the subject, "do you want food?"

Turning, you watch him leave the bathroom, disappearing into the next room. "Sure," you call after him, regretting not pushing him on the subject to talk before he had essentially escaped your grasp, "just not that place we got from last time though!"

"Not the Italian place, got it!" He shouts back, his voice travelling throughout your apartment. "What about that Chinese place we got from the other week?"

When you enter your living room, you find him laid comfortably on your sofa, his shoes now kicked off and his phone in his hand. "Sounds great," you answer, returning his smile as you eventually join him.

Maybe you'll get him to talk next time.

~~~~~~~ | F O O T B A L L T A G L I S T | ~~~~~~~

Football taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens  @ofxinnocence @1-800-benji-chilwell @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @sereshawsbby @greykitkepa

if you wished to be tagged in what i write please let me know

[marciabrady]

The Signs as The Physicality of Different Disney Princesses

ARIES: Meg's depth of coloring. Your skin and hair, like hers, might seem almost flat or of one hue, but upon second glance it obviously contains infinite multitudes. You're fascinating to watch, as with the turn of your head, hair that seemed cool brown could reveal various hints of wine red; there are countless ridges around the iris of your eyes, your veins might appear blue one day and green the next, and the undertones of your skin can seemingly vary depending on the lighting and time of year. TAURUS: Mulan's affinity for appearing comfortable and well-rested. Whether you're dressed up to the nines or in sweats, your loved ones always feel at home just by looking at you. The definition of the friend you don't need a social battery for, you can emerge as the main character in any situation, even if you're the most dressed down in the room. GEMINI: Pocahontas's majestic presence, even if in humble clothing. You will literally never have a wardrobe that wears you. People often ask you where you bought that jacket or even how you get your perfume to last, but the secret is that you were just born with that special touch. CANCER: Esmeralda's almost corporeal blend of seductive vulnerability. Your scrappy edge comes across in your "come hither" look, though you also can seemingly hold your own against overzealous admirers. But there's something so genuine and gentle about you that isn't revealed to those with the most money or power- but, rather, those who take the time to get to know you and your heart, sometimes by offering an unexpected act of kindness. LEO: Aurora's trademark hair of sunshine gold. Your Leo Mane is, without a doubt, one of the most distinct descriptors of your physical appearance to the point where, like Aurora, it seems like an element unto itself. Just as Maleficent enlists her raven to survey the countryside for a maid with "hair of sunshine gold," most of your family and friends can identify you from a mile away by your lovely tresses. You likely often get asked if you color your hair or if you follow a specific regimen. Your hair is, without a doubt, your crown. VIRGO: Snow White's tidy nature. Perfectly groomed at all times, you present an impeccable appearance and never skip laundry day. You make the most of anything you're wearing. Most of the times when people buy clothing from catalogs or from how it looks on a mannequin, they assume they can pull it off as well as you- the way it was meant to be worn. LIBRA: Moana's natural beauty. While you can get glammed up with the best of them, you come alive with hair freshly soaked in ocean water, skin that's been deepened and kissed by the sun after long days outside, and a lack of makeup. Your best look is when you're closest to the earth. SCORPIO: Cinderella's inky, sooty lashes. Scorpios, without a doubt, have the most beautiful, mysterious eyes which seemingly reveal the hidden universes they guard from us. Your lashes' fringy frame pulls us in to your depthless hues even deeper. SAGITTARIUS: Jane's deer-like beauty. Like the Tarzan character, you might have a longer or more angular face, but there's an innate softness that belies your natural friendliness. CAPRICORN: Jasmine's dramatically striking appearance. No matter what room you walk into, your beauty takes as many people aback as the words that come from your mouth. AQUARIUS: Ariel's pert chin. There's a delicacy to you that suggests the wide appeal of a "next door" type of beauty, but there's also a defined quality to your features- a fascinating combination of soft and strong. PISCES: Tiana's style and wardrobe. You have an outfit for every occasion and the endless combinations you can curate with your different clothing pieces make for infinite style options.

[shina913]

The Boyfriend Experience | PJM

The Boyfriend Experience: Jimin

The BFE: Masterlist

Pairing: Escort!Jimin x Virgin.Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: sex!work AU; fluff; smut

Warnings: legal sex work (in this AU); sex for hire; cussing; explicit sexual conversations; alcohol consumption; dirty talk; exhibitionism; clit play; breast/nipple play; heavy petting; oral sex (mutual); protected sex; orgasm denial; stamina!; multiple orgasms; (somewhat) rough sex but with aftercare

Word count: 9,132 words

Summary: 💬 By the time he knocked at the door, I was a bottle of wine deep. I answered sheepishly, gripping onto a nearly empty wine glass. He let me know that it’s everyone’s first time once and that there was no need to be nervous. I didn’t need to do anything I didn’t want to.

A/N: This was supposed to be posted by Jimin's birthday but I couldn't get my shit together and RL got in the way so ...here we are! Anyway, I kept flip-flopping on my ideas re: how to write the reader-insert character here so I hope this characterization works out fine.

A/N2: As in my other fics, I listen to a lot of music while I write. For this one in particular, I had my Miguel playlist going--specifically, the song, "Use Me." It also helped that I watched that Run BTS performance multiple times 🤣

A/N3: Also, I want to thank @internetjunkdrawer for beta'ing this, sending me suggestions, and just being my reliable Jimin consultant 😜 Thank you, @itdoesntmatterwhy as well for allowing me to run a couple ideas by you and making sure that this scenario was plausible and that OC wasn't a caricature or silly stereotype! 😘

‼️IMPORTANT: Although the narration will include Jimin's name, OC/Reader will not address him as so because she booked him under an assumed alias. Weird, I know but--let's just go with it 😉

“Crap!” You gasped after picking up the empty bottle of wine. You only intended to have a couple glasses–maybe three–to calm your nerves. Next thing you knew, you’d downed the whole thing.

Before you grab another one out of your kitchen, your apartment’s buzzer goes off making you jump. Even after drinking a whole bottle of wine, you were still edgy. Could anxiety burn off alcohol? Was that even possible?

You stood and attempted to take a step, but you almost lost your footing on wobbly legs. Welp...that certainly answered your question about the alcohol.

You shook your head, refocusing your vision and smoothed the creases on your dress before walking towards the intercom.

“H-hello?” You spoke nervously into the box.

“Hi, YN. It’s me.”

You were expecting a deep, husky, come-hither voice–like one that was made for phone sex. Instead, he sounded like a completely normal guy…a normal guy whom you were paying to have sex with you.

How did you even get to this point?

A couple years back, at an office holiday party, you had drunkenly confessed to your work-wife that you were a virgin. She was incredulous at first and thought that you were pulling her leg. But you told her, absolutely zero experience with dick.

Since then, she’s made it her mission to get you laid. Secretly trying to fix you up during happy hours or random nights out with her.

Once, you came very close to going all the way. You confessed to your date that you had never had sex before. From that point on, the dynamic turned for the worse. He treated it as a fetish and it ultimately put you off.

Needless to say, you stopped dating for a while. Until your friend asked you what you planned to do for your 30th birthday.

You hadn’t really thought about it since it was months away. You figured a nice dinner with your closest friends would suffice.

Why don’t you try this app?

It all started with a damn app. You thought it was another trash trend that she was trying to get you into. But this wasn’t your run-of-the-mill dating app.

An escort service?

There was no way you were paying anyone to have sex with you. It just sounded…wrong?

Out of curiosity, your friend let you browse through her app. She had recently become a member and was raving about her experience, following her most recent breakup with her boyfriend.

As you scrolled through, you had to admit that these guys were hot and promised discretion. But they came at a premium price.

After a week of thinking it through, you asked your friend to officially send a referral to the company. Days later, you heard back and received your own confirmation to access the app.

You browsed through it, then closed out of it. Browsed. Closed out. You did this several times for the next few weeks. It was almost part of your daily routine. There was one profile in particular that kept calling you back and this whole time, you’d been gathering up the courage to actually book him.

Finally, after a particularly difficult week, you opened the app again. You scrolled down to his profile and tapped on it. Unlike in the past where you’ve repeatedly chickened out after ogling at his photos, you finally click on the date-picker icon and zero-in on one particular day. By some stroke of luck, he was free. You took it as a sign–so you clicked on “book,” and a few minutes later, received a confirmation notice.

Your heart raced at the memory. You had many opportunities to cancel–but you didn’t. And tonight was the night. You release a deep breath, calming yourself down.

“Come on up!” You buzzed him right in.

You round the corner to your kitchen and discard your empty bottle then quickly check yourself in the mirror. You look slightly flushed and your pupils dilated…but it didn’t bother you. It was just the alcohol working itself through your veins.

Seconds later, you hear a knock on the door.

“It’s just a guy…calm down,” you mumble to yourself before grabbing the door handle.

“Hi there,” Jimin said with a small smile.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

The corners of his mouth quirked into a chuckle.

For a supposed casual night in, he was still dressed to impress. He wore a light gray suit and a white button-up without a tie.

Nope–this was no normal guy. The soft crinkle in his eyes that he had when he smiled was in stark contrast to the rest of his look. His hair was brushed to the side and those plush pink lips were like magnets that you were immediately drawn into.

“Will you invite me in?”

You shook your head. “O-of course,” you stammered. “Oh my god. Where are my manners?” You said in a slightly higher-than-normal octave. “Come on in!”

He walks–no–struts in and takes a quick look at your living room before turning back to face you.

“Can I give you a kiss on the cheek?”

It took you a second to realize that you were the only other person in the room and he was asking if he could kiss you on the cheek!

“Yes,” you answer meekly.

He smiled again, closed in on you and planted a soft kiss on your cheek. You felt a little flutter in your belly and it made you smile.

“You smell nice. What’s that?”

“YSL…Black Opium.” You weren’t sure if it was sensual enough. Although you contemplated getting a Chanel sample or something a bit more spicy-smelling, you ended up going with your everyday perfume. Besides, you couldn’t stand any of those scents anyway.

He hummed. “I can smell the vanilla and coffee notes–sexy.”

You were surprised at his in-depth knowledge of women’s perfumes but your cheeks warmed up at the thought that he found it sexy.

“You can put your stuff over here,” you walked over to your dining area and pointed to one of the chairs.

“Thank you,” he responded politely as he set his bag down.

“Would you like a drink?”

“I’d love one,” he replied.

You smiled and offered him a seat on your couch, urging him to help himself to some food.

“Uh–sorry I didn’t have dinner set up. I figured I’d ask you what you felt like eating rather than making assumptions. I have a charcuterie board, though?”

His eyes drift over to your coffee table where you had refreshments set out. “Wow, that’s nice of you. I’m honestly fine with whatever you like. I’m not picky,” he smiles.

He gestures towards your sofa “After you.” You smile nervously and walk back to the living room, where he follows close behind you.

“Do you prefer red or white?”

“I’ll drink whatever you’re drinking.”

Well…you had just downed a bottle of white before he got here so maybe it would be helpful to retrieve a fresh bottle if you were offering it.

While he settles on your couch, you excuse yourself to go into the kitchen to grab the bottle of white you had chilling in the fridge. After uncorking it, your eyes drift to the plain envelope that you had sitting on your countertop. You presumed it might be rude to have the money in plain sight sitting in the living room.

Cash in-hand, you return to the couch. He sat there with his jacket off, completely relaxed with his legs in a figure-four position, his arm draped across the back cushion.

Reaching for the bottle, he takes it from you and pours two glasses. You mouthed your thanks and proceed to the next order of business.

“Here’s uh–your…” You struggle to find a formal word for it, until you settle on, “Your compensation.” 

He reaches out for the envelope. “You mean, my fee?”

You grimaced. You were paying him for sex but you felt that he deserved some respect. “I just didn’t want to be too blunt about it,” you muttered.

“Nothing blunt about getting paid for a job, YN. And thank you,” he says after accepting the envelope and sets it aside. He reaches to pick up the glasses on the coffee table and hands one to you.

He raises his, inviting you to a toast. “Here’s to a night of fun.” You raise yours and clink it against his. “To a night of fun,” you echo before taking another healthy sip.

“Mm…Is that a vintage?” He comments on the wine, holding up his glass to the light. 

“It is. It was a good year. I have memberships at a couple different wineries. This one in particular is one of my favorites,” you divulged.

A smile ghosted his lips. “Soon to be mine, too.”

He took another sip and you followed with a longer swig.

An awkward silence falls. A few moments later, you shift in your seat and clear your throat to gather your nerves. “So…d-do we just get into it?”

He smiled warmly at you. “Why don’t we talk a bit more? Get comfortable, get to know each other. We don’t need to rush into it.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off too eager or anything,” you chuckle nervously. “It’s just that I’ve never done this before, so I don’t really know how this works.” 

His tone was sincere and reassuring. “That’s alright. And you have me until the next morning, so we can take our time.”

You blew out a sigh of relief after he reminded you of your booking. “Right.”

You could have booked him for just a couple hours, which was about the average time for an experience. But for your particular case, you thought it would take some more time.

“How was your day today?” The question seemed so mundane but it was casual and you could tell that he wanted to make you feel at ease.

“Fine. Good,” you gave him a small smile.

“And what was good about it?” His gaze was so unnerving. The look in his eyes had this odd combination of calm turbulence. It was a look that said, ‘I want to take good care of you…by nailing you to the mattress.’

You fluttered your eyelashes and giggled nervously. “To be honest with you, I spent half the day getting ready because I was really looking forward to tonight,” you finished with a whisper.

“Well, that makes both of us then,” he smiled before taking another sip of wine. “So tell me, what would you like to get out of this experience?”

You inwardly cringe. You had filled out the intake questionnaire and comments section. Wrote out fantasies and things you’d like to try. You didn’t really want to repeat all of that in front of him. “You read my profile, right,” you ask carefully.

“Yes, I did. But I would still like to hear it from you. Maybe you missed a few details or changed your mind since you filled out your profile.”

You thought about tip-toeing around it but Jimin didn’t seem the type to mince words. He looked like somebody who appreciated honesty.

You’d contemplated this date for weeks…maybe even months! It took you a while to actually pull the trigger on this and it was mostly because your birthday was closing in. Another year older, another year of an unremarkable, nonexistent sex life.

You purse your lips and shrug your shoulders sheepishly. “Nope. Nothing’s changed…I just want to have sex,” you say quietly. “Pretty boring, I know.”

“There’s nothing boring about sex…at least, it shouldn’t be,” he interjects.

You mentally kick yourself for that ‘boring’ comment. Why did you book him if you thought it was going to be boring? You could have just gone to a bar and picked someone up or just slept with the mailroom guy at your office. That guy seemed like he could be really discreet, too.

But no…You did not want the mailroom guy. You wanted this experience to be special and memorable. People can think you were shallow for this but at this stage in your life, you wanted someone who not only knew what they were doing but one who was also far better-looking than any average guy at a bar…or a mailroom.

As soon as you came across his profile, he looked like the perfect guy who ticked all of your boxes.

“So…I hope you don’t mind but I’ve made a list. I’m a huge fan of efficiency and I want to be able to make the most of my time with you.”

His eyebrows lifted, his interest piqued. “Oh, nice. I like that.”

“I’m kind of a Type-A, so…” you trail off apologetically.

“I don’t mind,” he says softly.

After he assures you, you picked up your phone off the coffee table and pulled your notes app up on the screen. You peered up at him as he waited in anticipation. 

“Let’s hear it,” he coaxes.

You start to read off your list. “So…oral sex–you go down on me, and then I’ll go down on you. I read on your profile that you’re okay with that. Is that still accurate?”

He smiles and nods politely and urges you to continue rattling off activities you’d like to try during your booking.

“And there’s regular cowgirl and reverse cowgirl…definitely want to see what that’s about,” you muttered. “I also want to try doggy-style if…that’s what they still call it?”

“Last I checked, that still applied,” he smiled.

“Okay, great! And uhm…I also want to try standing sex? I’m a bit of a yoga enthusiast and I heard that’s sort of a must-try position?”

He grinned and nodded in affirmation. “That all sounds very achievable.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay! I was afraid that I didn’t book enough time for this.”

His eyes widened. He was perplexed but he didn't make it obvious to you. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Y-you mean you want to get through all of that…tonight?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer matter-of-factly. “I thought that we might as well knock out as much as we can because let’s face it, you’re a little expensive and I’m not sure if I would like to book another session,” you clarify.

While the overnight rate was cheaper than the hourly rate, what you were paying him still wasn't considered chunk change. You wanted to make the most of your experience and get your money’s worth.

He shifted in his seat. “I understand,” he says with a warm smile. “And we can try all of that but I want to make sure that you’re fully satisfied, not because you’re crossing out a to-do list.”

You sighed. “I just wanted to try a variety of things other than ‘missionary.’”

“There’s nothing wrong with ‘missionary’. If you take your time with foreplay and your partner knows how to position you properly to hit the right spots. You can get some good orgasms out of it.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Oh…” You responded in a slightly higher octave. 

“I can show you how good ‘missionary’ could be,” he said with a slight twitch of his brow.

“O-okay,” you stuttered with a voice unrecognizable as your own. “That’s…uh, okay. I can add that to the list,” you say shakily.

Silence falls between you two as you exchange tense gazes. He took another sip of his drink and you watched as his tongue licked off some errant droplets of wine that were on his lower lip.

“Was there more?” He queried with a soft smile.

You blinked furiously as the wine started to settle into your veins, making you speak before you thought about it. “I’m sorry, I was just a little distracted–you’re…really, really good-looking. And I-I just…I didn’t expect–” You halt your babbling. “Sorry. I’m…I’m…I’m just–”

“Hey,” he rests his hand on your knee quelling your anxiety, “Stop apologizing. It’s just us here and I get that you’re nervous but you don’t have to be. You can trust me, okay?”

You nodded at his reassurance.

“And thank you for the compliment. I think you’re beautiful,” he added.

You feel a slight flush on your cheeks, muttering your thanks, then exhale sharply to reset your thoughts. “How long have you been doing this kind of work?”

Really, though, what else would you talk to an escort about?

“A while now,” he answers simply.

“And…do you enjoy it?”

“I do, as a matter of fact,” he responded with certainty. “I find it rewarding. A mutual fulfillment of pleasure.”

“Really?” You were skeptical. “You get pleasure from all of your clients?”

“Yes,” he answers confidently.

You found that hard to believe. A normal person can’t possibly be attracted to or get off on just anybody… “And you’ve never met anyone whom…you didn’t want to have sex with?”

He chuckled softly. “So far, that hasn’t happened to me.”

“Huh. That’s pretty unbelievable,” you remark before taking a gulp of your wine.

“You’d be surprised. When you have an innate desire to please your partner…” His fingers subtly brush your arm. “It fuels you…and you experience the same high.”

This piqued your curiosity even further. “And exactly how many–”

He shook his head and tutted. “Tonight should be all about us, YN. Just you and me. Nobody else.”

You nodded wordlessly. It was amazing how he had this silent, soft power to him. From the outset, he sure didn’t look like it at first. He seemed like someone you’d go see a chick-flick with at the movie theater, hold hands or share an ice cream sundae afterwards then he’d walk you home and end the night with a kiss on the cheek.

But the longer you sit here with him, you’re finding that he still looked like the type to go see that chick flick with you…except in this scenario, he’d be finger-fucking you in the back row, while you try your best to muffle your orgasmic moans. Then, he’d take you home and end the night by licking ice cream off your naked body.

Your chest heaved as you took in a deep breath at the thought of this man ravishing your body for the rest of the night.

“Are you alright?”

You gulped audibly. “Uh–y-yeah. Yes!” Your voice is shaky but you try not to make it obvious.

Unfortunately, your efforts fail because he still senses it.

He calmly takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table. You swallow hard when he scoots closer to you. His hands came up and pushed through your hair and brushed your cheeks with a gentleness.

Cupping your jaw and tilting your head up slightly, he asks, “May I?”

Ignoring the fluttering of nerves in your belly, you held his gaze. “Yes.”

He took your breath away with a kiss. His tongue traced the seam, then dipped inside, licking and teasing.

He lowered you against the couch’s headrest, your body flushed with his, moaning when he shifted to lie half over you. Your hands slid up and down his back, your leg lifting to hook over his hip. He caught your lower lip between his teeth and stroked the curve with the tip of his tongue, making you sigh.

He groaned in response…the sound was so erotic it made you wetter.

Your back arched as his hand crept beneath the hem of your dress and snaked upwards to squeeze your thigh under the material.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured against your mouth. He kissed his way following your jawline, then buried his face in your neck. “Do you like when I touch you?”

“Mm, yeah…hmm…” You moaned incoherently in response.

He continues to suckle on your neck, he pulls his hands from underneath your dress. It now traveled up your torso, where he gave your breast a gentle squeeze. He felt your nipple harden under your bra.

Things were escalating quicker than you had expected. If you didn’t take hold of your senses, you’d sooner pop your cherry on your couch. It wasn’t what you had envisioned for your ‘perfect night.’

“Hmm…my bedroom is uh, right around back there,” you utter softly.

He lifted his head. “It doesn’t have to be in the bedroom…” He planted a soft kiss on your chin, “…Or on a bed,” then darted his tongue in that notch at the base of your neck.

“So…you mean…h-here?” You squeaked.

“Yeah. Why not?” You hadn’t thought about having sex on the couch. And though it sounded appealing, you’d rather be comfortable.

“Uhm…I think I’d prefer the bed…if that’s okay with you?” You felt weird that you had to ask him about this. You hoped you hadn’t killed the mood.

“Of course, we can do that. Remember, it’s not about what I want. This night is all about you and I want you to fully enjoy yourself. So if it’s the bed you want, then…” He trails off and holds his hand out to you. You take it and you both walk towards the bedroom.

You weren’t exactly sure whether it was the alcohol, your nerves…him? All of the above? Either way, the path to your room felt much longer than it usually did.

Once in there, he sits you on the mattress and remains standing in front of you.

He slowly starts unbuttoning his shirt. You watched him carefully, his mouth was lax, his eyes hooded. Anticipation has your stomach churning and your thighs clenching shut. 

With his final button unfastened, he closes in with his shirt draped open. You suddenly have the urge to run your tongue down his center.

As if reading your mind, he coaxes you. “Go ahead.”

With his permission you reach up and run your finger down his chest. While he looks down to follow your trail, he nudges his way between your thighs. You look up at his face and see his lips quirk at the edges and his eyes sparkle, the slight crinkling in the corners softening the moment’s intensity. 

He dips his head down. As your lips brush, only very lightly, your body giving way as he crawls over you. Your hands fly up to his hair making him growl his approval as he moves his hands to the base on your spine and urges your body closer to him.

His tongue licks into your mouth and your heartbeat spikes. His hands drift down your body, gripping your thighs, his hands sliding upward beneath the edges of your dress until his fingertips find the lace of your panties, making you gasp.

“Uh…w-wait.”

He immediately stops. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no,” you respond quickly.  “I…” you exhale sharply. “I’m sorry, I’m just really nervous. I’m in my head about it.”

He brushed your cheek gently. “Listen, if you’re not ready–”

“No, I am, it’s just…ugh,” you shut your eyes and groaned.

At this point, he rolls off you and sits up while you remain lying down, hiding your face in your hands. 

“Hey, come on. Talk to me,” he urges softly. “What are you feeling or thinking?”

“I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time.”

His eye brow creases in confusion. “Wasted my time?” he echoed. “H-how?”

You uncover your face and find the strength to sit up and meet his eyes. The beauty of this agreement was that you can terminate the experience at any point. Their business guaranteed satisfaction. And although you knew in your mind that he would no doubt satisfy you, you weren’t sure if you’d exactly satisfy him.

“I mean, you can definitely keep the money. I know that we had a deal and–”

“Is that what you really want? To terminate?”

“W-well…” you sighed with hesitation.

“Aren’t you attracted to me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I’m very attracted to you. You’re perfect!”

“Then why?” He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “I just…felt like doing something crazy,” you mumble.

“And do you do crazy things often?”

You shook your head vehemently. “Oh no, no. Very rarely.”

“So you consider yourself to be rational most of the time?”

You nodded softly.

“You said it yourself, you’re a Type-A so…this means that you thought about this very carefully. This wasn’t a decision that you took lightly. How long did you consider this before you decided to book me?”

You let out a sharp breath. “I don’t know…weeks? Maybe even months after I gained access to the app.”

He regards you intently. “Okay so…that means that you weren’t doing this on a whim. You thought about this carefully and decided that you want this. But…now that you have me, why won’t you take me?”

You shook your head. “It’s not you. It’s…” You let out a sigh of frustration. “I don’t know why this wouldn’t just come naturally to me. I’m a grown woman, not a teenager…this is just embarrassing.”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about being a virgin.”

That was something you’d never added to any of your dating profiles in other apps but somehow, the promise of discretion and professionalism gave you a sense of security to divulge this on your Boyfriend Experience app.

You groan in frustration. “It’s just sex! I don’t know why I’m so torn up about this.”

“If it’s just sex that you want, why go through with this? Why hire me? You’re a beautiful woman and I’m sure at some point, someone’s propositioned you?”

“Yeah,” You sighed. “But…I guess…maybe this whole time, I’ve been searching for something specific. And I think, to make that happen, I probably have to pay for it.”

“Alright, well…you have me right here.”

“Exactly why are you still here? I just offered to pay you for the entire night for practically doing nothing.”

“I’m here because I find you interesting.”

“Interesting?” You chuckle incredulously. “Right…an almost 30-year old virgin is interesting.”

He shook his head softly. “I see that you’re conflicted about this. And to me, that’s interesting. I want to know why you feel this way.”

“Is this the first time you’ve ever met a woman who can’t make up her mind?”

“I’ve met women who can’t decide what entrée to order at a restaurant or what shoes would match their dress perfectly. But if at the end of the night, we end up in a bedroom together? They know what they want at that point.”

You hug your knees to your chest. “Honestly, I never really thought about it much until I realized that my 30th birthday was coming up. I don’t know about you but sometimes, a milestone like that puts things into perspective.”

“Because everyone else in the world has got such an exciting sexual roster?” He asks wryly.

You laughed. “No, it’s not that. I put off sex not because nobody ever caught my interest. It’s just that I’ve heard so many stories from my girlfriends and even a couple of my guy friends where they talk about their first times. Some of them have fond memories of it. Like, how special and romantic it was. And then you get stories of the ones who hated it because either they felt pressured, their partner blew their load too early, or that neither of them had any clue about what the hell they were doing.”

“That pretty much sounds like how most people’s first times are,” He chuckled. 

“But that’s just it, right? Why can’t mine be an experience that was completely enjoyable, memorable, and pleasurable? Is that an unrealistic expectation?”

“I think, if anything, that sounds very realistic and practical of you,” he says without a trace of judgment in his voice.

“Really? You don’t think it’s too idealistic? Or delusional?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I feel like everyone has some idealistic vision of how their first time would go. Doesn’t matter if you’re 16 or 36. You want to have good memories about it. You just want everything to go well.”

He wasn’t lying. It’s what you hoped your first time would be like. None of these awkward memories from when you were a teen or whenever your friends had lost their virginity.

Then he inhaled sharply. “I will say that most of us romanticize it too much. Like, the lighting has to be right with some music playing; or that you have to be in love with that person first and when you’re done, you cuddle until the sun comes up and then you’re going to be together forever.”

You laughed because when he came through your door, you had music playing, some candles, wine…You weren’t in love with him but you at least wanted to get the mood right for this moment.

“I’m not trying to be cynical or make fun of people who dream of that. Now that I’m,” he cleared his throat, “A bit more seasoned in that area. I think that as long as you feel some connection with that person and you’re doing it on your own terms, that’s what matters.”

“And you’re able to form a connection with all of your clients?”

“Of course.”

“Because you have to?” You thought you were finishing a sentence for him.

He exhaled quietly and smiled. “In my line of work, it’s all about choices. It’s what you choose to do. And whatever that choice is, you have to be in it, 100% because otherwise, what’s the point?”

“But you have off-days, I’m sure? Like, you wake up feeling like shit, not wanting to be this walking, talking fantasy for someone?”

He chuckled softly. “Who doesn’t have days like that? I’m still human. If I feel the need to take a break, I do. I turn the app off and then nobody can book me on those days. I can’t take care of my clients if I don’t take care of myself first.”

He then adds, “Also, we don’t want to make anybody feel as if they’re obliged to do anything…and in turn, clients can’t and don’t force us to do anything we don’t want to either. This is why we have these conversations, to have that fail-safe.”

“Hm,” you smirked. “That makes sense.”

You hesitate to ask and don’t want him to feel as if he’d wasted his time completely. “Would it be okay if we talked some more?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly.

“I’ll get the wine then,” you remarked.

“Good idea.”

******

“What do you do when you’re not, you know, working as an escort? Do you have a day job?”

He leaned back against where his head rested–which was on your thighs, while you laid, curled up on your side, your elbow supporting your head. You didn’t mind the position. You were both completely comfortable.

In keeping with the spirit of comfort, you change out of your dress and into an oversized sleep-shirt over your carefully selected lingerie. You figured, in case things escalated again, you’d be prepared. He kept his shirt off–you weren’t exactly sure if he meant it as a way to entice you–which, let’s face it, you were practically drooling. But so far, he hasn’t made a move to pick up where you left off.

He sighed. “I used to have one, during my first couple years doing this. And then ultimately, it became too hard to keep up with all of these different schedules so I quit that and never looked back.”

You couldn’t imagine how challenging it would be for him to meet with clients and try to make it to a nine-to-five. And you figured that with what you were paying him, he certainly can afford it.

“Do you go out when you’re not working?”

“Nah, I’m sort of a recluse,” he laughed.

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. “No way!”

“I am. It may not seem like it but sometimes I just like chilling at home. I don’t sleep much when I’m working so I try to catch up on that when I’m off.”

“You don’t sleep much because…your clients keep you up?”

His eyes were tickled with amusement. “Not all the time,” he says. “I often have trouble sleeping when I’m working.”

“What do you do when you can’t sleep?” You wondered with curiosity.

“I work out or…watch TV late at night.”

“How much interesting TV could be on at like, 3 in the morning?”

He chuckled. “Oh, you’d be surprised! I’ve developed a habit of watching people dig for gold in this random hole where they find the most random shit except actual gold,” he jested.

You laughed out loud.

“Seriously! They find random doorknobs from, like, the 17th century. Which, by the way, they actually hired and paid an expert to test and confirm the age. And I’m like–who the fuck cares about a rusty old doorknob? Where’s the gold? Seriously, it’s been over five years of this and at no point does anyone think, hmm…maybe there is no gold after all,” he ranted very passionately.

At this point, your elbow gives way while you collapse in giggles. 

******

You ended up ordering food to be delivered at your place. He put his shirt back on but left it unbuttoned. It was difficult not to get distracted by his tattoos or his chest, in general but you tried to keep your focus on the conversation.

For the next couple of hours, over takeout containers, you continued talking about the most random things, sharing appetizers and eating off each other’s plates. You laughed and made jokes as if you’d known each other for years. He was a great conversationalist and for the first time since he walked through your door, your nerves had settled.

He looked more relaxed as well and it wasn’t just because of the alcohol. It must be difficult being in his shoes. Trying to keep up your interest in someone’s rambling stories about their life and all the while trying to seduce you into bed.

Now, he didn’t look like somebody intent on seducing you. He just looked like a normal guy. A normal guy whom you enjoyed having a conversation with.

After you put away your leftovers, you move back into the bedroom, and the conversation takes a slightly different turn. 

“Seriously though, why haven’t you had sex with anyone? I’m sure there’s no shortage of horny guys out there. Is it a purity thing?”

You laughed heartily. “God, no! No, no…” You shook your head in between giggles.

“And you’ve never had any experience with sex at all? No kissing, touching…what about masturbation?”

“Oh, pfftt,” you blew out a raspberry. “I said I was a virgin, not an innocent! I’ve dated before and it’s gone as far as heavy petting? But no legitimate penetration, so to speak.” 

He laughed and nodded at that. “Okay.”

“I’ll also have you know that I’ve invested in a very nice vibrator, since I’m a big girl and I can afford it now,” you both laughed. “And we have a really great relationship. In the end, we both know which of us feels used.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Ahh, so you’ve had an orgasm then?”

“Yes, I have,” you say simply. “Just…not with anybody.”

“I hope we can still rectify that tonight.”

His eyes glistened when they gazed at you. Though, not the same way they did when you both sat on the couch. There was a sincerity to that look–a sincere desire to give you what you need. A desire to please you.

A calm washes over you and you decide to try something.

“Could you please do me a favor?”

“Sure. Since you asked so nicely and if it’s in my power, I’ll do it.”

You hesitate for a beat. You figured he’d make up something on the spot but you needed a little boost of confidence. “Can you tell me…if…if you find me attractive?”

At this point, he sits up on the bed and moves closer to you.

Cupping your cheek, he runs his thumb gently across your lips. “You know, the moment you opened the door, the first thing I noticed was your mouth. When you talk, I just could not take my eyes off it.”

You feel a warm flutter within your chest. Afterwards, his lithe fingers drift lower to your neck, his fingers brushing over a specific spot. “I also noticed your freckle here. When you swallow, it draws my attention to this vein on your throat.” You swallow reflexively, earning you a small smile from him.

“And this here,” his thumb grazed the notch at the base of your neck, right between your clavicle. “Mm…I think it’s just sooo sexy,” he purred.

A shiver ran down your spine, making your breath hitch. You blink slowly, trying to stop your eyes from reflexively rolling to the back of your head. 

His hand traveled back up to your face, his finger brushing your ear. He was so close to you that you could hear his ragged breathing. He was as aroused as you were, his cock tenting under the sheets.

“So, to answer your question: yes, I find you very attractive,” he rasped slowly..

With that, you let out a small whine and practically attack his mouth. The sudden onslaught doesn’t seem to take him by surprise as if he had fully expected you to play into his trap. And you didn’t mind it one bit.

You sighed and he took advantage of the opening, dipping his tongue inside. His kiss was confident, skilled, and just the right amount of aggressive.

Pulling back to cradle your jaw, he looked into your eyes. He rubbed the tip of his nose against you, his hands sliding along your bare arms.

“Are you sure about this now?”

“Yes. Absolutely, yes,” you breathed out.

Jimin’s hands slid back up your shoulders and onto your throat, leaving a white-hot trail across your skin. Cradling your head, he tilts it back and seals his mouth over yours again.

He settled over you, his chest hot to the touch. He helps you push his shirt off him, dropping it to the floor. His ardent mouth moved down your throat, his hands pushing your bra up to palm your breasts through the sleep-shirt you put on since taking your dress off hours ago.

You lift off the mattress, struggling to rid yourself of your shirt, which he helps you with. Then, you reach back and unclasp your bra, tossing it to the side.

In an instant, he was back on you, lips wrapping around your nipple and suckling, his weight supported by one forearm on the mattress, his other hand pushing between your legs.

He cupped your clothed heat, his fingertip gliding over the material, grazing the seam of your cleft. His tongue flicked over your nipple, then sank his teeth into the hardened tip.

His hair tickled your skin as his open mouth slid over your cleavage, his chest expanding as he breathed you in, nuzzling and wallowing in your scent. He captured the tip of your other breast with hard, deep suction. The pleasure shot through you, your walls clenching in reflex.

He moved down your torso, licking and peppering kisses across your stomach. Once he gets past your waist, his shoulders force your legs wider until you feel his hot breath over your cleft. His nose pressed against the wet material, stroking you. He inhaled with a groan.

“You smell intoxicating.”

Jimin fiddled with your panties’ waistband, peering up at you for approval. You lifted your hips and gave a small wriggle. That was all he needed to pull the constricting material off. It was soaked through anyway.

“Did you wax?”

The question takes you by surprise. “Y-yeah. Why?”

“When? Today?”

This is a really odd time to ask about personal hygiene. You blinked a few times, “Uhm…like, three days ago?”

“Hm, good.”

“Okay, but what does waxing have–”

“Because, if it’s only been less than 24 hours, I can’t do this,” He held you open with his thumbs, and dragged his tongue over your clit. Your back arched with a cry, all your senses out the window. Tilting his head, he thrust his tongue into your opening, teasing and fucking it rhythmically.

”Is that good?” He paused to check on you.

“Ohh….ffffuckk…yes, it’s good,” You writhed with pleasure, your core clenching and releasing.

He smiled mischievously. “Alright, guess I’ll continue then.”

His lips were around your clit, sucking, tonguing it. He was eating you with an intensity that you were helpless against. The flesh between your legs was so swollen and sensitive, so vulnerable to his expert mouth.

When you feel yourself tipping close to the edge, you wrench yourself away from his hold.

“Wait, wait–n-not yet,” you breathed out.

He pauses his oral assault on you. “Were you close?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to cum just yet.”

He chuckled in confusion. “Oh-kay…” he dragged out.

You sat up and captured his mouth. You taste traces of you on his lips–it was incredibly arousing.

“I want you,” you moaned.

He gasps as you unfastened his pants, reached inside his boxer briefs and wrapped your hands around him. But he obliges, deepening your kiss further.

You shifted positions, until he was leaning against your headboard. You moved lower, sank to your knees, pulling his pants low enough to give you the access you needed.

He exhaled harshly. “YN, are you sure—”

You cut him off when your lips wrapped around the tip. He reached back, the whites of his knuckles showing how hard he gripped the lip of your headboard.

You held him in your hand and mouthed the plush head, sucking gently. The softness of his skin and his scent made you moan. You felt the vibration ripple through his entire body and heard a rough sound rumble in his chest.

You peered up at him and he touched your cheek. “Lick it.”

Aroused by the command, you fluttered your tongue across the underside and moaned with delight when he oozed with pre-cum. Fisting with one hand, you hollow your cheeks and draw rhythmically.

“Hmm…fuck yes…just like that.”

The erotic sounds he made and the way he slowly bucked his hips into your throat spurred you on. You were so turned on by his pleasure. His hands pushed into your hair, pulling and tugging at the roots, the twinge of pain making you greedier.

Your head bobbed as you pleasured him, his veins pulsing through the length of his cock. You released him with a pop. Tilting your head to the side, you slid the flat of your tongue up his length.

You were in complete awe of him as you watched his head fall back, fighting for breath.

You rested your hands on his hips, frantically working your lips and tongue, desperate for his climax. His balls were tightening, you cupped and tugged on them gently, making him gasp in pleasure.

“Ah, YN…stop.” His voice was a guttural rasp.

“Stop.” He dislodges your jaw from him, pulling you up to his level and gives you a swift kiss. “As much as I really, really want to keep fucking your mouth, I think we should take care of you first.”

You roll off him and he gets up off the bed. He reaches into his back pocket and produces a foil packet before pulling his pants and boxers off. You watch intently as he rolls the condom down his length.

You swallow roughly when he swiftly tugs at your ankles and positions your bottom at the edge of the bed.

“Just so we’re clear, you need to tell me at any point if you feel discomfort or there’s anything that you don’t like. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you respond firmly.

His fingers parted your folds and rubbed your clit in slow circles, making you moan. Finding that you were still soaked for him, he leans in, hooking your legs to his waist and lined himself up to your center.

“Try to relax, okay?” You nod.

“Ready?” he asks urgently. You nod again, because speech has evaded you at this point. 

He rips his hand from between your thighs and in one calculated movement, he moves his hands to your bottom and lifts you. Slowly, carefully, he pushed in, making you tense up instinctively.

Ow! Fucking hell!

This was not a vibrator or some other fake dick you’ve been used to. It was the real thing. The sensation was…different. 

Sweat misted his brow. “YN?” he pants. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

You inhale sharply. “Just…two seconds. I just need a few seconds.” You slowed your breathing, wrapping your legs around him tighter, adjusting to the mixture of pleasure and pain. You know he’s not even all of the way in. 

Your hands slip over his sweat drenched back as he holds still for a few moments, giving you time to adapt to the feeling. 

“Okay, keep going,” you assure him. He pants as he slowly withdraws from you, re-entering on a deliberate, steady thrust. This time he’s a little deeper and the fullness is making your head spin.

“Can you take more?” he asks urgently.

More? How much more is there?

You took some calming breaths. When you felt like you had a handle on it, you kiss him slowly, arching your back and pushing your breasts up to his chest. You thrust yourself upward, deepening the connection.

“YN, tell me you’re ready.” he breathes. 

“Yes, I’m ready.”

With your prompt, he extracts himself and drives back inside of you. You sigh, tilting your hips forward in acceptance as he moans in appreciation and repeats his swift thrusts, again and again.

The soreness from the stretch slowly fades with his steady rhythm. Before you knew it, you were bucking your hips against him greedily, but in sync with his movements.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he breathes on a deep plunge. Your head lolls back against the mattress, lost in the pleasure of it all.

In one swift move, he pulls back and pounds into you. You cry out but not from the hurt. You’ve taken him to the hilt and loving every bit of it. You reach up behind him and grip his shoulders as he increases his thrusts, slamming into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive cluster of nerves in you. You yelp in pleasure when he finds your lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth.

Slowly, you feel that familiar buildup of pressure within while he ate you out minutes ago. But right when you feel like you’re about to fall apart, he pauses his assault and pulls out of you.

The feeling of emptiness has left you confused and somewhat hazy. Distantly, you hear him grab a hold of your hand to pull you up off the mattress. 

“C’mere,” he beckons you off the bed–which, you weren’t even sure how you managed to support your own weight since your legs felt like jello.

He motions for you to stand in front of the wall.

“Keep your hands there,” he says, propping your hands up. You do as he says and he rewards you by planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. He positions himself behind you, gently urging your legs apart while his hands roam your front. He massages your breasts in his hands, making you gasp when he pinches and pulls on your overly sensitized nipples.

One of his hands slides down your torso and abdomen until it settles between your thighs. His fingers parted your lips, feeling around for your clit.

“Oh my god,” you choked out once he hit the target, making you lean your head back against him.

“Good?” His warm breath tickled the shell of your ear while he nipped at it.

“Hmm...yes,” you drawled while his fingers rubbed and circled your flesh. You couldn’t help but reach your hand back towards his nape to pull him closer to you. If he worked in a couple more circles around your clit, you swear, you could have exploded right then.

“Tell me what you want, YN,” he whispered in your ear.

“You…please,” you whined, grinding your groin to his touch.

“I’m here,” he answers. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you back in, please,” you begged pathetically before that delicious pressure in you deflates.

Lowering your hands from the wall, he adjusts your position while you jut your bottom out for him, pushing your back down slightly. His hands steadied you as he pulled your hips closer to him, opening yourself up so he could slide back in.

A low, broken cry escaped your mouth as he adjusted you at the right angle, taking your breath away when you felt him slide in deeper. The stretching was even more intense this way. It was unbearably arousing. If he ever allows you to cum tonight, you feel as if you’d shatter into a million pieces and never recover.

Your core trembled, clenching desperately around him. He made a rough sound, pulling out just a little before sliding back slowly. The tip of his cock massaged the bundle of nerves deep inside you that no premium-priced vibrator would ever reach.

Palms slipping and sliding restlessly against the walls, you moaned gutturally, repeatedly.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he said urgently. “Let me hear how much you like it.”

“Oh, fucckkkk…” Your legs shook violently on a particularly deep, measured stroke, your weight supported only by the wall and his hold on you.

You could do nothing but take what Jimin gave you, the rhythmic push and pull, the sounds of skin on skin filling the room–it was an incredibly dizzying environment.

One of his hands left your hip, and cupped your cheek, turning your face slightly back towards him, seizing your mouth and groaning into it while continuing to pound into you.

Everything in you goes rigid as that same all-too-familiar feeling threatens to spill out of you. 

Your breaths become more constricted. “Come on, baby. I know you’re close…” he said gruffly, sliding his other hand down to your center to tease your pulsing clit.

Finally, it became too much. You came with a breathless cry, shaking violently, your hands squeaking over the wall as your sweaty palms slipped. He keeps his firm hold on you and plunged deeper and harder, his fingers still on your clit, driving you insane. One orgasm rolled into another, your cunt rippling around his relentless thrusts.

You held onto him, trembling, tears pooling in your eyes. Raw moans spilled from him, making you so hot and slick that your body offered no resistance and instead welcomed his desperate need for his own climax.

His mouth twisted in a grimace of agonized bliss, his eyes losing their focus as his orgasm built. 

He came with a deep, hoarse growl, spurting so hard into the condom, you felt it. His whole body jerked hard, then shuddered. Over and over, heating you from the inside with thick washes.

He collapsed against you, his lungs heaving for breath.

******

“Are you okay?”

He laughed in response as he stood by your bathroom’s doorway. “You’re asking me? Shouldn’t I be asking you?”

“I’m good. Sore but otherwise, good,” you say calmly.

There it was again, that soft crinkle in his eye when he smiled. As if he didn’t just fuck you senselessly moments ago.

You pull the sheets back from the bed, where you sat and patted the empty space next to you, inviting him to get in.

“Are you sure?” He asked with a hint of hesitation. “I told you, I’m fine sleeping on the couch.” He was in a pair of sweats now and not much else.

You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Now c’mon, get in.”

With your permission, he slid under the sheets and made himself comfortable next to you.

“Do you feel any different?”

You paused and thought carefully before you answered him. “You know what? I don’t,” you laughed. “I thought that some proverbial curtain would lift and things would look or feel differently but…no. I feel the same.”

He hummed noncommittally. “Hm…okay.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. This isn’t a testament to what we just did. And…that was pretty mind-blowingly euphoric back there.”

He laughed heartily. “Aw, c’mon, YN! Don’t fuck with me.”

“Well…too late for that now,” you countered wryly.

He doubles over as he’s in absolute stitches, making you laugh as much.

“I swear, I had to pick pieces of my brain off the floor. Is that normal for you?”

He sighed heavily after calming down. “I mean…” he shrugged. “You’re giving me too much credit.” Then his expression turns accusatory, “You told me you hadn’t done any sort of sexual activity with anyone. So, where’d you learn to suck dick like that?”

“Porn.” You say flatly.

He threw his head back in laughter. “Seriously?”

You scoffed. “What did I tell you? I’m a virgin, not an innocent.” Not gonna lie, you did do a bit of ‘research’ before tonight. True to your Type-A personality, you needed to know what you were getting yourself into. Unfortunately, you had to use an incognito browser and painfully to wade through dozens of pop-ups of erections and weird-ass shit before finding the more helpful videos.

“Well, shit,” he blew out a puff of air.

After a few beats of silence, he turns to you again. “Look, I know you had a list–”

You giggled. “Ugh, that seems so embarrassing now.”

“Hey, it’s not embarrassing to have goals.”

“Don’t patronize me,” you teased.

“I’m not patronizing you. Just saying, at least you have a good idea of what you want.”

“I guess, yeah.” You relented.

You glance at your phone’s clock then stare back at the ceiling. You had no idea how other partners would compare to him. Did you even want other partners? This would be a very expensive venture if you decide to keep this up with him.

Moments later, as you start to feel the fatigue settle in, you feel him brush your bare arm. You thought it was probably his insomnia keeping him up. “You know, we still have a few hours before our time is up.”

You turn to him, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “You have the energy to do that again?”

He shrugged. “I brought a few condoms, and…I’d really love to see that ass bounce again. Maybe with a reverse cowgirl?" As soon as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip, you knew you were done for.

You were happy to indulge in Jimin a bit more. He ticked all of the boxes that you had on your list and even added a few more that had your mind melting from multiple orgasms by the end of your experience.

It was the perfect way to ring in your 30th birthday.

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @itdoesntmatterwhy @deepseavibez

[geopsych]

This poem was written about a specific time of year. Here on eastern Pennsylvania we’ve reached this point.

RELUCTANCE

by Robert Frost

Out through the fields and the woods

And over the walls I have wended;

I have climbed the hills of view

And looked at the world, and descended;

I have come by the highway home,

And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,

Save those that the oak is keeping

To ravel them one by one

And let them go scraping and creeping

Out over the crusted snow,

When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,

No longer blown hither and thither;

The last lone aster is gone;

The flowers of the witch hazel wither;

The heart is still aching to seek,

But the feet question ‘Whither?’

Ah, when to the heart of man

Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

Of a love or a season.

[peacekeeperangel]

The Swashbuckling Archives

So I've noticed I have a LOT of Fanfictions under this title so I thought it might be nice to have a Giant Masterpost everyone can follow along without having to search hither and yon (or yanno watch a specific tag if they don't want to) So here's the stories under The Swashbuckling Adventures of Captain Caviar Cookie From oldest to most recent as of January 2024.

The Swashbuckling Adventures of Captain Caviar Cooke

The Swashbuckling Adventures of Captain Caviar Cookie: Last Lord of the Sea

A Swashbuckling Side Story: Gold and Pearls

The Swashbuckling Adventures of Captain Caviar Cookie: The Longan Song

[thecynicalcinephile]

So, About Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves,

A solid well-written visual feast and overall entertaining romp through the world of the Forgotten Realms. I'd almost forgotten what it feels like to actually watch a good movie.

First of all, I'd like to note that this movie makes surprising use of practical effects. I was concerned that this would be some overly-CGed marvel-level schlock, but right off the bat we're presented with a completely practical dragonborn and aarakocra (bird person), and this continues throughout the whole movie, with everything from zombies to tabaxi (cat people). I loved every second of it.

Then there's the acting. It honestly just feels like everyone was having so much fun with their roles. It's almost like the writers and all the actors really were just a bunch of friends playing DnD together. Chris Pine particularly seems to embody his role, for the duration of the runtime he honestly becomes a bard.

The film also remains surprisingly faithful to the source material, frequently citing specific spells & abilities, in addition to locations, that would seem like deep cuts to anyone who doesn't play the game.

However, that does lead to my one immediate problem with the movie: they're so accurate in some places that it causes the areas where they take some liberties to stick out like a sore thumb. As a DnD player myself, let me say that druids cannot wildshape anywhere near that many times a day. Additionally, the Hither-Thither staff was somewhat frustrating, as that is an original invention of the film from what I can tell. With how many spells & magic items have been released over the years, I guarantee you they could've found something pre-existing that would work. More importantly though, the staff is ridiculously overpowered. I don't think it can be safely ported over into the game without running the risk of breaking absolutely everything for a variety of reasons. Overall though this is a minor complaint, especially since no one who doesn't play the game would ever notice.

And the end of the day, all I can say is definitely give this film a watch when you get the chance. It's exciting, delightful, and fun for the whole family, while still taking itself seriously and treating the audience with respect.

[dkniade]

Translating Xiao’s “Hello” Voiceline

This line’s formal tone and word choice in particular makes him sound like an immortal figure in a xianxia drama. It’s hard to convey in English, but the best equivalent in English speech would be a bard character going all Shakespherean (so like, Fischl, I guess). I’ll include both a Shakespearean-esque rendition, and a base translation in prose.

Original and Renditions / Tone in the Different Languages / Translation Notes on Chinese Words and Idioms / Localizing It into Shakespearean English

Original

如遇失道旷野之难，路遭贼人之难，水火刀兵之难，鬼神药毒之难，恶兽毒虫之难，冤家恶人之难，便呼我名。

「三眼五显仙人」——「魈」，听召前来守护。

.

My Rendition

Come pathless wilds or thievish tricks, crises grave or spirits vile, hidden beasts or mortal foes, call out my name. 

“The Mighty and Illuminated Adeptus”— Xiao, summoned hither to protect.

.

Translation in Prose

Edit: the character 难 is better translated as “calamity” instead of “disaster”

If you encounter the disaster of losing your path in the wilderness, the disaster of running into thieves on roads, the disaster of natural calamities and war, the disaster of manipulative gods and poisonous medicine, the disaster of malicious beasts and poisonous insects, or the disaster of arch-nemeses and evil-doers, then call out my name. 

“The Mighty and Illuminated Adeptus”— “Xiao”, summoned here to guard you.

.

Official Translation

If you awake to a knife at your throat, if monsters dig their claws into you, if death comes knocking at your door, call out my name. Adeptus Xiao. I will be here when you call.

Tone

Key Traits of Archaic Chinese Speech

uses few characters to express rich imagery 

descriptive four-character phrases are a giveaway 

implied subjects with limited use of pronouns or “I” or “you” 

results in a compact and poetic “less is more” style 

common speaking style for immortals (仙人) in xianxia dramas

.

Key Traits in Chinese Voiceline

archaic Chinese 

extremely formal tone

lists off various intense, worst-case scenarios 

last line implies someone under a contract or code of honour (think wuxia escorts)

overall signifies he’s an Adepti due to his poetic speech (see above section)

.

Key Traits in Official Translation

edgy

lists off some bad scenarios 

loyal

(kind of hard to take seriously)

The translation of this particular line did not do Xiao justice at all. The archaic tone is completely lost, the intense scenarios are watered down and replaced, and the last line forgoes his longer title along with his implied contract-abiding loyalty.

In addition, in his profile specifically (rather than quests), due to the voice acting, Xiao’s Chinese voice gives the image of a distant/cold and calm young man, while his English voice makes him sound like an edgy teenager. 

Words and Phrases

Edit: “[scenario]之难” is better translated as “the calamity of [scenario]” instead of “the disaster of [scenario]”

The Chinese line follows the format of “If you encounter the disaster of [scenario], [lists off six disastrous scenarios], then call my name. [Adeptal Title] — Xiao, [formal declaration of a summon to protect].” The scenarios are each a four-character phrase, followed by 之难 (“the disaster of~”).

.

失道旷野之难

pinyin: Shīdào kuàngyě zhī nàn / Shi1dao4 kuang4ye3 zhi1 nan4

“The disaster of losing your path in the wilderness”

Man VS nature

.

路遭贼人之难

pinyin: Lù zāo zéirén zhī nàn / lu4 zao1 zei3ren3 zhi1 nan4

lit. “The disaster of running into thieves on roads”

贼人 refers to thieves or bandits

likely alluding to Treasure Hoarders

Man VS man

.

水火刀兵之难

Shuǐhuǒ dāobīng zhī nàn / Shui3huo3 dao1bing1 zhi1 nan4

“The disaster of natural calamities and war”

lit. “The disaster of blade-wielding soldiers of fire and water”

This one likely refers to the idiom 刀兵水火 (lit. “Blade-wielding soldiers and fire and water)

刀兵 refers to war; 水火 refers to natural disasters of floods and fires

Overall, natural and man-made calamities (idiom: 天灾人祸)

Man vs nature, man vs society

.

鬼神药毒之难

Guǐshén yào dú zhī nàn / Gui3shen2 yao4 du2 zhi1 nan4

“The disaster of manipulative gods and poisonous medicine”

lit. “The disaster of demonic gods and poisonous medicines”

鬼神 refers to evil spirits, evil deities, etc 

Possibly alluding to the hatred of the fallen gods Xiao slayed, or perhaps manipulative deities?

药毒 can refer to medicine with poison in them, expired/low-quality medicine, or misusing medicine for a treatment. Generally, something bad with natural properties medicine

man VS nature (?)

.

恶兽毒虫之难

È shòu dúchóng zhī nàn / E4 shou4 du2chong2 zhi1 nan4

lit. “The disaster of malicious beasts and poisonous insects”

恶兽 refers to dangerous or malicious animals or beasts (natural ones, not those of a magical nature)

毒虫 refers to poisonous insects

man VS nature

.

冤家恶人之难

Yuānjiā èrén zhī nàn / Yuan1jia1 e4ren2 zhi1 nan4

“The disaster of arch-nemeses and evil-doers”

lit. “The disaster of enemies and evil people”

冤家 refers to an enemy or arch-nemesis

恶人 refers to evil/bad people, evil-doers, etc

man VS man

.

三眼五显仙人

Sān yǎn wǔ xiǎn xiānrén / San1 yan3 wu3 xian3 xian1ren2

Localized as “mighty and illuminated adeptus”

lit.  "three eyes and five manifestations immortal”

(Info from HoYoverse’s Developer Insight on Xiao’s concept development) 

仙人 are “demigod-like ‘immortals’” in Daoism

“The ‘three eyes’ part of the adepti's title refers to the ‘third eye’ possessed by those with the ability to manipulate elemental energy”

In humans, Visions (神之眼, lit “Eye of God”) fulfill this purpose

.

听召前来守护

Tīng zhào qián lái shǒuhù / Ting1 zhao4 qian2 lai2 shou3hu4

“Summoned here to guard [you]”

tone is similar to something like “Xiao, reporting for duty”

lit. “Heard the order to be summoned and came to guard [you]”

召 means “summon” (verb) as in “order (someone) to be present”

前来 means “to come”

守护 means “to guard” (compared to 保护 which is “to protect”)

Rendering It into Shakespearean English

There’s no way to truly capture the imagery and connotations invoked in Chinese, but a close localization would be to write it in Shakespearean English. The straight translation in prose is too long, and there’s no rhythm in it.

To recap, here’s information about Xiao which we can infer from his speech

States the absolute worst-case scenarios (ambush, war, natural disasters, evil deities and beasts, enemies, etc) as plausible reasons for being summoned

an Adepti (immortal in the xianxia genre) due to his formal speech 

last line implies someone under a contract or code of honour (think wuxia escorts)

Progress Rendition

“Come blinding wilderness or thievish paths, [水火刀兵], malicious spirits, fatal insects or mortal enemies, call out my name. Adeptus Xiao, summoned hither to protect.” Summoned hither at thy behest.

.

I rendered it like so:

Come pathless wilds or thievish tricks, crises grave or spirits vile, hidden beasts or mortal foes, call out my name. 

“The Mighty and Illuminated Adeptus”— Xiao, summoned hither to protect.

----

“pathless wilds or thievish tricks”

“the disaster of losing your path in the wilderness, the disaster of running into thieves on roads”

“crises grave or spirits vile”

“the disaster of natural calamities and war, the disaster of manipulative gods and poisonous medicine”

“hidden beasts or mortal foes”

“the disaster of malicious beasts and poisonous insects, or the disaster of arch-nemeses and evil-doers”

“summoned hither to protect”

“Summoned here to guard [you]”

.

Meter

Iambic tetrameter (unstressed-stressed 4x, or x / x / x / x /) for the first part

(e.g. come PATHless WILDS or THIEvish TRICKS)

Catalectic trochaic tetrameter (stressed-unstressed 4x with last syllable missing, or / x / x / x / ) for the next two parts

(e.g. CRIses GRAVE or SPIrits VILE)