#i mean all that though if you ever want to share a thought or question about something i post i sincerely welcome that

[scoonsalicious]

7.3 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (unprotected piv, slight praise kink, slight size kink)

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: You finally got Bucky's dick down your throat <3

A/N: Again, sorry about yesterday, besties! My spirit child took precedence. At least this is a decent-sized, smutty update!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You were pretty proud of yourself, you had to admit. You had no idea how many women Bucky had slept with over the years (and, if you were being completely honest, you really didn’t want to know), but given he was well over a hundred, you figured it had to be a pretty decent number. Yet, here he was, lying next to you, trying to recover like you’d literally just sucked his very soul out of his body. You swore you’d never swallowed so much cum in your entire life, let alone at one time. For a moment there, you’d briefly wondered if you’d be the only person in history to literally drown in cum.

You’d never enjoyed giving your ex-husband head before, but giving it to Bucky had felt almost like a religious experience. He’d allowed you to take your time, to set your own pace, and do what felt natural to you– not just grab both sides of your head and fuck your face like a fleshlight, the way Connor had been so fond of doing. Your mouth was going to be so sore tomorrow, though. It was like having a forearm in there. You laughed quietly to yourself. Totally worth it.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Bucky asked, rolling over onto his side so he could face you properly.

“I was just reminiscing about how huge your dick felt in my mouth, Sarge,” you told him honestly. 

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Major,” he moaned into your shoulder, “you keep talking like that and you’re gonna get me going all over again.”

You smiled and scooted closer to whisper in his ear. “That cock was so big, I thought I was gonna choke on it, Sergeant.” Bucky shivered and, sure enough, you could feel the appendage in question hardening against your stomach as you spoke. He was insatiable, and you loved it.

“Come back with me to the Compound tonight,” Bucky said. “It’s closer than your place and I’m not going to be able to wait much longer to be inside of you.”

You sat up, torn between being touched that he wanted to take you back to the home he shared with his friends, and wanting to just jump his bones immediately. In the end, being horny won out. “Why wait, Bucky? We’re both already naked, and you’ve already blown one load out here. What’s a couple more?” You reached down and grabbed his semi-hard member, stroking it gently. 

“Fuuuuck,” Bucky groaned. He sat up and placed a hand over yours to cease your ministrations. “Sugar, we can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, as though it pained him to put a stop to your actions. “This is a public park. What if we get caught?”

You threw your head back and laughed at that. “Bucky,” you said through your giggling, “that’s half the fun! Besides,” you said, turning a bit more serious once you saw the concern in his eyes, “it’s after hours on a Sunday night. No one is coming to the park now. And even if they did, what are the odds of them finding us? We’re so far off trail.”

“They could see the lanterns,” Bucky said, “and follow the light. And I just… Nevermind, it’s stupid.” He turned his face from you, embarrassed. You were beginning to love the way he shied from you when he was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing.

You frowned and gently tilted his chin so he was facing you again. “What’s ‘stupid’? Bucky, you can tell me; I’m not going to judge you, I promise.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “I just… don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” he murmured, running his vibranium hand down your shoulder. “You look like a fucking goddess tonight, Major. I want to be the only one that gets to worship you.”

His words couldn’t have had more of an impact on you if you had been physically struck by them. “Bucky,” you whined, pulling him close to kiss him. You had a fleeting thought of self consciousness, that he’d be able to taste himself on your lips, but he didn’t seem to care as his tongue sought entry into your mouth. He kissed you like he was dying of thirst, and your lips were the only source of water for miles.

“Let’s compromise,” you told him once you’d broken apart. “We can blow out some of the lanterns, so we’re not so easy to find.” Bucky nodded, seeming to like the idea of your offer. “Then,” you continued, “you can fuck me under the stars.” 

*

The two of you must have looked absolutely ridiculous, you thought, traipsing around, completely naked, as you collected all of the things that Bucky had brought for your picnic and packing them away into the basket, save for the blankets and some pillows, giggling like idiots the entire time. You wanted to have everything packed up as neatly as possible before blowing out the lanterns, so that when it did come time to finally leave, you wouldn’t risk leaving anything behind because you’d been fumbling around in the dark. You’d both completely forgotten about actually eating dinner.

As you worked, you kept sneaking occasional glances over at Bucky, admiring the way the light rippled over his body. The man was essentially made entirely of muscle, and yeah, you’d seen him naked before, in the confines of your condo, but something about seeing all of him outside, under an open sky, did something to you. It made you feel… feral.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky asked, causing you to refocus and clear your head. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Why?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled as he walked over toward you. “Well, you stopped moving, then got this dazed look on your face, and you were just kind of staring at my dick,” he said. Reaching you, he put his hands on your hips and playfully yanked you toward him. 

You chuckled at his apt description of what you must have looked like. “Just admiring the scenery, Sarge,” you teased. You could feel your desperation for him growing by the second. You took his hand and guided it down your body, between your breasts, down the skin of your stomach, until you had it against your aching heat. 

Bucky took the initiative of running two of his thick fingers between your folds, gathering your copious slick. “Oh, sugar,” he said, his voice almost patronizing, “you’re fucking soaked.” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked off your arousal. “Shit, you taste so damn sinful. Be a good girl and go wait for me on the blanket while I finish up, alright?”

You nodded and did as he asked. You watched as he quickly finished gathering all the lanterns and blowing them out, one by one, until he was just a silhouette of shadow among shadows. 

“Hey, sugar,” Bucky said through the darkness as he climbed toward you across the blanket. Your eyes were adjusting to the starlight, and though you couldn’t make him out perfectly, you could see him much easier.

“Hi, Sarge,” you replied with a soft giggle as you reached for him. “Come fuck me, please.”

“Oh, doll,” Bucky purred, “I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” He kneeled down on the blanket, resting back on his heels, and, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, he picked you up, positioning you so you were facing him, straddling your legs on either side of his torso. “Tonight, I’m making love to you, Major. Put your arms around my neck.”

You obeyed him dumbly, his words having driven all rational thought completely out of your head. Bucky reached underneath you, putting his hands under your ass and using them to pull you close to his chest. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

You nodded desperately; you were practically dripping for him by this point, but something hit you. “Fuck,” you hissed. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“What happened to my always prepared Girl Scout?” Bucky asked with a grin. 

“I thought we were going out to dinner!” you told him in exasperation. “I didn’t think we’d end up fucking in the middle of the woods! I just assumed we’d end up fucking back at my place, where I have copious amounts of condoms!”

Bucky laughed at that. “Well, maybe we should both start carrying them at all times then, sugar. Just in case. Seems we’re making it a habit of not always gettin’ to a bed in time.” But then his face turned serious. “If you’re worried about diseases or whatever,  you don’t have to be– the serum, it prevents me from contractin’ anything, so I can’t pass stuff on, either. Kind of like a catch-all vaccination. The only thing we’d have to worry about is… well,” his eyes glanced down to your belly. “You know. I can always pull out before I finish, if you want.”

Just the idea of feeling him inside of you, with absolutely nothing between you, invaded your thoughts and filled your mind like a thick smoke, reaching every crevice of your brain until it was all you could think about. To actually feel him cum inside of you… “Don’t you dare,” you said, a little more sharply than you intended. “Pull out, I mean. Fuck, I wanna feel you, Bucky. All of you. I’m clean, and I’m on birth control. I can pick up some Plan B in the morning, just to be safe.”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, sugar, if you’re sure.”

You tightened your grip around his neck. “I’m so sure, Sergeant Barnes,” you said. “I wanna feel every inch of you inside of me.”

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex without a condom before,” he confessed. “Don’t take it personal if I don’t last. It just means you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help myself.”

You snorted at that, and Bucky grinned at you. “As long as you make sure I cum, too,” you said, kissing his jaw, “I don’t care how long you last.” You both knew he would never leave you unsatisfied.

“Hey.” Bucky jerked his chin so he was looking into your eyes again. “I’m really glad that, this first time for me without anything between me and a dame, it’s with you.”

You didn’t have words to describe how that made you feel, so you did the only thing that would properly convey the depth of your affection toward him– you kissed him as you lowered yourself onto his dick. You were so wet, he met virtually no resistance as he tilted his hips up into you. And your body, now after your… eleventh, or was it twelfth?-- time in two and a half days, knew how to welcome him.

“Holy fucking shit!” you gasped.

“What is, doll?” Bucky asked, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have any idea how deep you feel inside of me right now, Bucky?” you asked him. “It’s like I can feel you in my soul.” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he started using his arms to guide you up and down on his cock, sliding himself nearly all the way out before pulling you back down on him again, and each stroke felt like ecstasy. “Damn it, doll,” Bucky said, looking down to watch where his cock disappeared inside of you, “you feel so fuckin’ good! I don’t know if I can ever go back to fucking you covered again!”

“Oh, god, Bucky,” you moaned. You didn’t know if you could go back, either, not with the way you could feel every single vein of him drag against your inner walls. His motions were deliberate, slow, gently feeding the fire instead of pouring gasoline on it the way he usually did. It was intoxicating.

“Look at me, sugar,” he begged, his voice holding a tone of longing. Your eyes met his, and despite the dark, they shone. You couldn’t look away as he pumped into you. “You’re fucking amazing, Major,” he gasped, timing his statements to match his languid thrusts. “So goddamn beautiful.” Thrust. “You make me laugh.” Thrust. “You’re brave as hell.” Thrust. “You’re independent.” Thrust. “Strong.” Thrust. “Smart.” Thrust.

He kept praising you as he increased his rhythm, hips thrusting up into you faster and faster, the whole while keeping his eyes locked on yours. The coil inside of you was tightening, constricting the expanse of your lungs, making your breath come out in shallow gasps. 

You kissed him, putting every ounce of lust into the motion, moaning into his mouth as he never broke stride and brought you closer to the edge. “Bucky,” you moaned into his mouth. “Fuck, Bucky, you’re making me feel so good, honey. Don’t stop, please!” 

“Never, sugar,” Bucky grunted back. “Fuck, wanna make love to you until the day I die.” You sucked in a breath at his words, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Bucky’s thrusts faltered. “Doll,” he said, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, “did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!”

“No!” you cried, shaking your head as you worked your own hips to make up for his loss of motion. “No, Bucky, shit, honey, you’re saying everything so right. I’m crying because I can’t remember the last time I felt so goddamn happy.” 

Bucky resumed his thrusts with a renewed purpose. Getting up on knees, he repositioned you so you were lying on your back, his giant frame leaning over you. “Come on, sugar,” Bucky grunted as he snaked a hand down to your clit and began to rub. “Need to feel you cum around my cock. Show me how happy you are, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to bring your face closer to his. Grabbing a hold of the chain that held your name, you pulled his face to yours and kissed him. “‘M so close, honey,” you moaned into his lips. “Need you to give it to me.”

“I wanna give you everything, Major,” he grunted, kissing you again. And then, suddenly, it was all over for you, the coil snapping, and you were falling, shouting his name to the stars and the sky. Bucky’s thrusts lost their careful rhythm, and you could feel him spilling into you, wave after warm wave of cum pouring down your channel. 

“Fuck, sugar,” Bucky cried. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Shit, baby– you feel so fucking good, sugar. ‘S so good, can’t stop cumming.” His words lost all meaning as they devolved into grunts and moans as he collapsed on you, his hips still thrusting as if with a mind of their own.

The weight of him should have been suffocating, but instead, you never felt safer than you did with his body splayed on top of yours. He held you to him, as though afraid that, were he to let go, you would float away on the breeze, and you felt so light after your orgasm, you very well could have. Mumbling sweet nothings into the side of your neck, Bucky’s flesh hand found your hair, stroking it. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your skin. “Thank you so much, Major.”

You let out a shuddering breath, hands gripping the muscles of his upper back as you held him, legs finding their way around his waist. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That was everything.”

After a few moments, Bucky gently rolled off of you, but his hands never left your body as he held you close, running his fingers along the meridian of your spine. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked you. Always considerate, always checking in. It made your heart swell with affection. Fuck, with love for him.

“So good,” you told him. You placed a gentle kiss on his pectoral. “How are you feeling? Did you have a good time?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, sugar?” he asked with mock incredulity. “Every time I’m with you feels like the best time of my fucking life. And I’m not just saying that,” he added, anticipating your incoming protest. “You… I don’t know what it is you do to me, Major. I just know that, when I look at you, things feel right, for the first time since I shipped out in ‘43. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

But goddamn if this man didn’t know how to say just the right words to you. “If you’re not careful, Bucky Barnes,” you said, hoping to put enough tease in your voice to mask how sincerely you felt the words you were saying, “I’m gonna end up falling in love with you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[yazthebookish]

Why an Elucien rejected bond storyline would be boring

Years ago Sarah briefly discussed Elain and Lucien's mating bond, she changed her plans from having Nesta as Lucien's mate to Elain since she saw there is a great deal of tension, growth and healing to be found for both of them (together).

In my opinion, we are currently seeing them go through the tension stage where there is this distance and strain on both of them due to recent events. Lucien was sexually assaulted by Ianthe and he is settled in the human lands to support Vassa and Jurian. While Elain has to mourn her human life and also the rejection of Graysen (who used the bond against her) + she also grieved her father. It's pretty reasonable for her to feel that resentment and hostility towards the existence of her mating bond with Lucien.

Part 1: As of ACOSF, does Lucien want Elain or did he move on to Vassa?

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian's heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien's face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

I won't make this part long because it's right there in the text. His longing. He still longs for Elain. He still tries. If he is so occupied and in love with Vassa, what is he doing spending Winter Solstice at Velaris to give his mate a gift instead of the woman he apparently "loves".

"But he lives with Vassa!"

The concept of friends sharing a house does not necessarily mean they're all hooking up, unless Lucien's comment on Vassa and Jurian liking to be at each other's throats is to be taken literal (and he's the third wheel in that scenario). I firmly believe Vassa and Jurian would end up together.

It's clear Lucien has eyes for one female only and that's his mate.

Part 2: Lucien doesn't want the bond and he can't stand it

And that's when arguments are formed based on out of context quotes, because context always matters to get the full picture.

But there she was. His mate. She was nothing like Jesminda. Jesminda had been all laughter and mischief, too wild and free to be contained by the country life that she’d been born into. She had teased him, taunted him—seduced him so thoroughly that he hadn’t wanted anything but her. She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.

Is it not valid for him to feel conflicted about this entire situation because he is still processing the fact that the female who he fell in love with, who had chosen him, saw him, and accepted all of him, who was beheaded because she loved him, is not his mate? but this stranger is? He is trying to make sense of it. He doesn't know Elain yet.

Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate.

His feelings and thoughts and instincts are all clashing at once. That is much evident in this entire scene.

"I can't stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can't stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back."

This is often taken out of context to point out that Lucien doesn't want the mating bond or he can't stand to be around Elain. As a mated male, it's overwhelming for him to be around her because his instincts clash and he has to keep himself grounded around her. He doesn't know yet how to approach her or what she expects of him. It's extremely awkward and he can't stand it because he still didn't find a common ground with her.

Using this quote to imply he doesn't like her or stand her is absolutely false within the narrative.

I think so. It wasn't just about what he thought—it was the ... feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And ... sorrow. Longing.

Part 3: Lucien is responsible for her trauma

Hard disagree on this one.

Even canon points out that the one who told the King of Hybern about Feyre's sisters was none other than Ianthe. This is not to defend Tamlin because he gave her an opening to do whatever she liked and did not hold her accountable in ACOWAR.

Now about Lucien, what power did he have over Tamlin's decisions when we have seen that despite being his friend, there is a power imbalance and Tamlin does lash out at Lucien. Lucien is not a character without flaws, but neither Feyre nor Nesta ever blamed Lucien. Even when Elain says to his face that he betrayed them, Lucien immediately says it was a mistake. He doesn't try to absolve his role in it or explain his actions to her, he calls it as it is.

I disagree with the statement that he is responsible for her trauma, Lucien was nothing but a spectator.

"But, but, he yelled at her and announced that they were mates!"

Cassian again stirred—trying to rise, to answer Nesta’s voice as she held my sister and cried her name again and again. But Elain was staring over Nesta’s shoulder. At Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain— Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”

Right. He yelled at her.

Great reading comprehension.

And it's like we forgot when Rhys said the moment the bond snapped between him and Feyre, if he stayed a second longer he would've damned the consequences and took her with him. As soon as he winnowed back to Velaris the first word he said to Mor after 50 years was "she's my mate".

"Well he shouldn't have said it anyways"

Yeah because it's not like Lucien is a Fae male and the mating bond is something that alters the Fae on a biological level. It overrides their instincts.

Part 4: Elain choosing the mating bond + Lucien will be a disservice to her arc, it won't be a choice unless she chooses Azriel

“but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

I like that Sarah briefly discussed the topic of a character's agency when it comes to mating bonds because it's something that has long been discussed in the fandom.

However, I disagree that if Elain chose Lucien it's not truly a "choice" because of the mating bond. We have seen with both Feyre and Nesta that they didn't choose to be with Rhys and Cassian simply because of the bond, the mating bond was just the cherry on top—they loved their mates for who they were.

"Elain's entire journey will be about choice"

Isn't she already making a choice? Isnt she choosing not to pursue the bond? Isnt she choosing to ignore the bond? Isn't she choosing to not reject it? Isn't she choosing how she is living her life in Velaris? Isn't she choosing how she spends her time? Isnt she choosing to garden and help other gardens in Velaris? And I can go on.

Neither Elain or Lucien had a choice in being mated to each other, but the notion that the mating bond left her with no agency over her life is partially incorrect because she is making choices. Yes, the mating does in a way take some of Elain's agency and Lucien's agency since it's something that alters them on a soul-level, but Lucien's agency is often removed from this conversation.

Currently, the ball is in Elain's court and not Lucien's. She currently has the choice of accepting or rejecting the bond.

And in my opinion, "choice" is a theme that is incorporated in the journeys of all the characters, it's not exclusive to Elain. I don't think "choice" is the core of her story because I think Elain's journey should focus on breaking out of the docile and gentle sister mold (not that she stops being gentle, but stopping others from infantilizing her), finding where she truly belongs, realizing who her true found family are, discovering the world (a trip to the continent let's go!).

Part 5: Azriel (warning: controversial)

This will be a bit of a hot topic but I'll do my best to keep it short (it really isn't).

This kind of follows Part 4, but I will tell you why Azriel isn't a "great" choice for Elain.

Yes, they had a sweet companionship and a friendship and that is usually a good foundation for a relationship, but to me there wasn't anything solid or deeper then that. We have to *assume* they had moments off-page, but we also know that they're not spending time together and Azriel confirmed this. So am I going to wait for chapters of flashbacks after flashbacks to see that build up from the past?

Before anyone jumps the gun, I am a hardcore Gwynriel and a hardcore Azriel fan and I fully understand and accept that Azriel is a flawed character who carries so much self-loath. I dont like him with Elain because I believe it's an unhealthy dynamic compared to how lighter and more open he is around Gwyn and this is not something against Elain, it's more tied to how Azriel perceives the logic of 3 sisters + 3 brothers. Dynamics matter and makes a difference between couples because e.g., Chaol and Yrene worked better than Chaol and Celaena. Mismatched pairings exist but it doesn't mean the characters involved wouldn't work out with others.

So how is the male that centered himself in his entire conversation with Rhys instead of prioritizing what Elain wants, is the ultimate choice?

He argued that the Cauldron was wrong because he didn't get the "third" sister while his brothers got her other sisters, and at this point we know Elain is not interested in a mating bond. If she is attracted to Azriel, it has nothing to do with wanting a bond with him because we know how she feels about it but it's Azriel who wants to center the mating bond in it.

So does that mean the relationship from Azriel's perspective wouldn't be complete without a mating bond? Then why is he arguing about this? Wouldn't it be more romantic for him to say I don't care if she is mated or not, I want her for her—but that's not the case here.

Notice that it's Azriel having these discussions about mating bonds and not Lucien who is her mate. and I promise you if it was Lucine having this exact discussion with Rhys, the entire fandom would drag him to no end.

Back to Azriel, so he also says that he hadn't gotten that far with his planning certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to + and said Lucien is not good enough for her and she has not interest in him anyways. Again, he is speaking for Elain when we know one of the big problems surrounding Elain is how others speak for her and assume what she needs. If she doesn't want the mating bond, that's her speech and not Azriel's. I still don't get how people were fine with him speaking for her and I'm not even the biggest Elain fan.

Last but not least, he also was against her scrying despite publicly declaring that no one decides what she can or cannot do and wants to help. Is this truly the "ultimate choice" for Elain? But Lucien's only crime is being mated to her?

Part 6: finally, why Elain and Lucien rejecting the mating bond would be bad storytelling.

So we know that a bond can be rejected, only weakened but it will always exist.

"Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond. But it will still be a bond, however weakened, that will trail her for the rest of her existence."

"But he'd know if Nesta were dead. In his heart, his soul, he'd sense it. Would feel it. A mate always did. Even if she'd rejected that bond."

1. There isn't enough time to explore a rejection:

It seems there isn't a ritual or a tradition we are told of about a mating bond rejection, if the female doesn't want it then that's that but it does have a worse impact on males.

As of ACOSF, it's evident Lucien still longs for Elain even if they are distant or occasionally see each other. We know Elain resents the bond but we still don't have her POV to really know what she thinks of Lucien.

What do we get out of a rejected bond with Elain and Lucien? That she just doesn't want him and can say "no"? That she finally has a choice? Even though she is making choices as of the current canon to not explore the mating bond or do anything? I gave examples in Part 4.

And then what? Lucien moved on to Vassa or another female in the next book? That despite a rejection being devastating he's all cool and moved on within months.

No stakes. No challenges. No reprecussions. No consequences. Nothing interesting.

"But it's proof that not every mated pairing works" that would be interesting if we had enough time to discover that but not with two characters that barely spoke to each other and readers have no clue to what kind of dynamic they have.

A rejected mating bond would not be a good story to tell because there wasn't much there to begin with. It's underwhelming.

"I don't want it" "okay cool see you around" < and that's it? Groundbreaking.

"It's a big factor to play into a forbidden romance because Rhys is the obstacle here" easily resolved with one word from Elain and Rhys is removed.

I think Elain and Lucien's mating bond would still be interesting to read about because we never had a mated pairing that knew they were mates but weren't in love yet.

It's giving an arranged marriage trope and the best part about arranged marriage is when the spouses get to know to each other better, they fall harder—I think the tension between Eain and Lucien would be quite delicious and fun to read about as they tip toe around each other and the mating bond.

2. Parallel journeys:

I like what Mor said in ACOFAS and it makes complete sense since it reaffirms that both Elain and Lucien are going on parallel journeys:

Mor drank deeply from her glass. "Stay out of She's not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings."

I lifted a brow. "Snoop."

Mor leaned back against the steps, utterly un-repentant. "Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her."

3. Promised HEAs:

SJM already stated that each book going forward will follow different pairings and by the end of their book they'll get their HEA. That's the standard traditional romance formula.

A mate rejection, especially in standalone books, are miserable. Not enough time is given to navigate through it or move on and it also sets an unrealistic and cheap outcome that the other mate could easily move on from the soul-level rejection. No, that doesn't entitle a mate to force their other mate to accept the bond because it would affect them personally, it's just something I think that needs more than a book to discover through the POVs of the characters involved.

This is why a mate rejection is a very rare and an unpopular trope in fiction. There was a temporary mate rejection in the Zodiac Academy series that scarred the ZA fandom because it's depressing.

You have Fated Mates authors like Kresley Cole who published around 21 books with each book including the Fate Mate trope. That's one of ACOTAR's trademark.

Till this day, every SJM character that found out about the mating bond ended up with their mate one way or another. It's an SJM trademark at this point.

4. Then which rejected bond would Sarah explore?

In my opinion, the true rejected bond story that would be extremely emotional, tragic and powerful is the story of Helion and Lady of Autumn.

What they had is the definition of a forbidden romance. Lady of Autumn was married to a High Lord from her Court and Helion wasn't even a High Lord of the Day Court then.

The stakes are extremely high they could've triggered a war between Day Court and Autumn Court. Even though a mating bond triumphs marriage, Lady of Autumn still has children with Beron. She chose her children over her mate in the end. She had to reject the bond because everything stood against them.

While this is currently theoretical but it's strongly pointed at in canon that they're mates.

This makes for a better story of a Rejected Mating Bond because enough time passed to see what were the repercussions, the consequences of their actions and how they both suffered. Do they find their way back to each other in the end or does one of them for whatever reason loses their life? Did Helion have to seek other people to distract him from not being with his mate and her not choosing him? Did their bond weaken?

Conclusion:

I didn't expect this to be long but I hope you enjoyed reading this "essay". The rejected mates storyline is controversial and so many readers feel strongly about it. Everything here reflects my own thoughts and why I think a Rejected Mating bond wouldn't be an interesting one to discover with Elain and Lucien.

I deserve another cup of coffee and on my way to get me one haha. I apologize for any typos in advance.

[covetyou]

a dress up!Joel interlude

tomorrow (29th May) I'll be posting the next part of dress up!Joel, lovingly titled ghosted.

in the meantime, have this interlude of sorts that I've been sitting on for weeks (and honestly thought I posted back in April, whoops.)

main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

rating: Explicit (18+ only!) word count: 969 warnings: more brotherly shenanigans, sex toy talk, mild relationship angst, alcohol consumption summary: Joel's egg hunt couldn't have gone worse, and so he confides in the one person who has his back no matter what - his baby brother.

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Shooting the shit with his little brother wasn't something Joel Miller ever thought he'd enjoy. But, with age and maturity, there wasn't anything quite like sipping cold beers in his backyard, his brother yapping away about work, or girls, or the playoffs, or just about anything else, as they relaxed at the end of a long week. Tommy could talk, and Joel could listen, and that's how it'd always worked.

"Hey, you still got that thing I gave you," Tommy suddenly asks, after giving Joel a blow by blow of his latest conquest - some blonde he met at a bar and didn't even know the name of.

"What, this pain in my ass? Yeah."

"Very funny. Nah, I mean that ballpedo thing. Turns your balls into a torpedo."

"Balldo."

"Yeah! You still got it? If you ain't usin' it, ain't no use in it goin' to waste."

Joel lifts his beer, the condesation leaving a dark ring on his jeans, and takes a sip, averting his eyes from Tommy.

"Still got it."

It was stuffed at the bottom of his sock drawer upstairs. After Christmas, and his uncomfortable walk back home with the thing still strapped to his balls, it took him a little while to pry the thing off. The lube he'd spread over himself was turning tacky combined with your juices, and wetting it just made everything too slippery. But, eventually, he was free, and he cleaned the thing up and left it to dry, as if there would be any opportunity to use it again.

It was a happy coincidence that Sarah was with her mom again on Valentine's day, and your calendar for that day was empty - he noticed when he was fixing a drip in your kitchen sink. Given you enjoyed Christmas, he thought you might like something else too, and he was happy to be right. On Easter, he was going to leave a note for you for his little egg hunt, hoping you'd wake up Saturday morning and make your way over to his place to find the final prize.

He hadn't expected to get caught, and he hadn't expected things to be left as they were afterwards. Now the memory of all of it left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Can I go grab it? I'll take it off you."

"Nah... nah it's okay," Joel says, with a non-commital wave, as Tommy stands, taking a few steps to head inside.

"C'mon, if you ain't usin' it, I can take it. Mom never teach you to share your shit?"

"I'm always sharin' my shit with you, I said no," Joel shoots back with finality, unable to stop himself from mumbling into the rim of his beer. "You wouldn't want it now anyway."

Tommy was never one for being quick to catch on, and for that Joel was grateful. Though, maybe this time he underestimated his little brother. Tommy still makes a move to head inside, likely to rifle through his shit to find the toy he'd given Joel so long ago, but he stops in his tracks before pulling the patio door open.

"Holy shit," is all Tommy says. "Holy shit."

"You remember you're an asshole again?"

"You used the fuckin' ball thing?!"

Joel's silence says all Tommy needs to know.

"You gave yourself a dick for balls and you didn't tell me? Fuck I've been wonderin' about that thing ever since I gave it to you. It good?"

Joel doesn't really know what to say. He doesn't want to say anything - he wants to keep his fuck up with you his own tragic little secret, but now the balldo's out of the bag, he can't exactly dodge the question. Tommy was a persistent bastard when he wanted to be, and Joel knew that he was going to be extra persistent with this.

"It... yeah. Yeah, it was good."

"Wait... fuckin' wait a minute. This mean you got a girl?!" Tommy's face lights up as he asks, and Joel can feel the color drain from his. "You got a girl and you didn't bother tellin' me? You wound me, brother."

Shaking his head, Joel takes another swig of beer, hoping it'll wash the memory of the taste of you from his mouth. It doesn't.

"Nah. Didn't get the girl."

"You fuck it up that bad?"

As much as they could piss each other off, they always had each other to fall back on. Usually, of course, it was Joel picking up the pieces for Tommy, but there was an unspoken agreement between them that meant no one was keeping score. No one owed anyone anything, they'd always be there for each other, whether it was one time or a thousand times. So, against his better judgement, Joel tells Tommy everything and, for once, Tommy listens.

"Only one thing I don't get," Tommy muses when Joel finally finishes with a sigh. "If it was a misunderstanin', what the fuck are you doin' here with me, and not over there with her, explainin' yourself?"

"She told me to leave. I don't wanna intrude any m-"

"You broke into her fuckin' house, brother, think you're long past that."

Tommy slides the patio door open, half inside, half outside, and looks back at his big brother.

"Take it from an asshole who knows - doin' nothin' ain't gonna do shit. You don't get the girl, you don't get your shit rocked. Talk to her. You got nothin' to lose. If she don't want anything to do with you, nothin' changes, and if she does, well... you get the girl, and you get your shit rocked."

He hated to admit it, but Tommy was right, and Joel had never felt so fucking stupid that he didn't come to the same conclusion sooner.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd make this right.

[cursedvibes]

Curious, what’s your opinion on all the theories that Yuuji will become less human and “turn into Sukuna”? Whether it’ll be for just a moment or like as his endgame-

I will mainly base my response on this theory because that's the most popular version of it I've seen around.

Basically, I do agree that Yuuji is getting a bit lost in his hate for Sukuna and loses sight of Megumi in favour of his desire to kill Sukuna no matter what. I honestly also welcome the change somewhat and for Sukuna to influence him. It would be boring if Sukuna is the only one who changes during this fight. It would be nice for Yuuji to have a similar reflective moment as him at some point. Questioning what he's doing, what he's fighting for and how far he's willing to go and then basing the way he kills/defeats Sukuna on it. The fight with Mahito changed him too and made him discover and accept a new side of himself. While Mahito made him adapt the cog mentality, Sukuna might be the one to push him to be more selfish again. Ideally, he would eventually find the middle point between these two extremes.

However, that doesn't mean he will ever be exactly like Sukuna or turn into him. No matter what, they are different people with different experiences that shaped them since their conception (even before their birth). When Yuuji admitted him and Mahito are the same, he didn't suddenly start torturing people for fun, he just recognized how he engages with the world and his role in it. Yuuji will potentially become more ruthless and lost in the heat of the battle now, but I don't see him ever delighting in bloodshed the way Sukuna does. People forget that no matter the parallels and vessel shenanigans, Yuuji is still his own person. That's what kept him from just being another submerged vessel of Sukuna. That's what makes Sukuna lose control over his soul right now. He doesn't entirely recognizes it himself yet, but he does have unique qualities that are the reason he's so exceptionally irritating to Sukuna. Also, Jin is a much more literal Ryomen Sukuna and he acts very different from him. Because even if jujutsu might see them as the same being and even though they used to share a body (just like Yuuji and Sukuna), their experiences and background shaped them into very different people. Mind you I'm a big supporter of fucked up Jin, but he would be still unhinged in a different way than Sukuna. Normal but seeming just a bit uncanny. Not a rabid mass murderer.

I also think that even if Yuuji gives into his darkest thoughts, him becoming a Sukuna 2.0 is very much not the intention if he goes completely crazy. He was designed by Kenjaku to eventually develop the skills he has now (minus the soul punching potentially, but that's not certain) and to unlock his full potential, he would have to become more selfish and hateful. Facing Mahito and Sukuna helped in that regard and pushed him further. Kenjaku wouldn't want him to turn into another Sukuna though because in that case...well, Sukuna is already there. I think that is part of why they specifically chose Jin to create Yuuji with and didn't somehow try to convince Sukuna to do it or mix his blood in there or whatever. It's also why unlike Sukuna, Yuuji didn't grow up in isolation and ostracisation from society, being told from the moment he's born that he's cursed. He grew up without even knowing anything about jujutsu, contrary to Sukuna who was thrown right in the midst of it from the beginning. I think that's deliberate. Kenjaku could've seen to it that Yuuji turned away from society and gave into violent/destructive impulses much earlier, but they didn't. Seems more like they wanted to build a strong foundation, the possibility to foster ideals and build genuine connections before challenging them and seeing how Yuuji would react to it, potentially being fired up even more by it and pushed to evolve further. There would be no use to repeat what created Sukuna exactly the same way because then you'll get the same result. Kenjaku wants something that will surprise them and this is the only way I see that happening.

To address the claims the person posting the theory made directly:

I don't think this change happened after his awakening, I think it happened after Choso's death and even then Yuuji is not as blinded by hate yet as the person makes him out to be. Yuuji didn't call out further to Megumi in Yuuta's domain because for one there wasn't that much time and it was also pretty clear that Megumi either couldn't hear him or wouldn't be pushed that easily to fight back against Sukuna. That's why his Black Flashes were so important. They weaken Sukuna's power over Megumi (as you can also see by Sukuna's changed domain) and would give him more freedom. Plus, this must shake up Megumi too. Yuuji's gonna make him listen if there's no other option. The Black Flashes aren't there to kill Sukuna without concern for anyone else, they're the only chance they have to get Megumi out of there or at least give him back control (he only has to take it). Yuuji didn't call out to him or specifically think of him (at least it wasn't vocalised for the reader), but that doesn't mean he forgot about Megumi. We've generally heard very little of Yuuji's thoughts during this fight and it was still clear Megumi was his aim in all this.

In my opinion, Yuuji only really dips into selfish and reckless hate when he's clawing at Sukuna's chest to tear his heart out (which wouldn't immediately kill Sukuna btw as Yuuji knows very well). It's where we see him completely livid. Still, previously, he very much shows concern for his comrades. He does get angry when Sukuna shows up after Choso dies, but it's more a gritting of teeth to steal himself, he's not raging like when he claws at Sukuna's chest. Plus, Todo showing up and telling him the others are probably okay is what gives him the strength to give it his all again and jump full force back into the fight. That took some convincing and believing in Todo's words, he wasn't gonna do that to begin with or his mindset when seeing Todo and hearing about the others would've been different. Todo wouldn't have needed to say anything at all then and Yuuji wouldn't have been so relieved to hear his reassurance. Choso's death making him question his cog mentality by ripping something important away from him, but also showing him Choso thinks his life has value is what set off his hate, but he doesn't immediately fall into it. Chapter 260 and 261 are the first real glimpses we see of it.

I think Todo being here is very important for that reason. He might not particularly care about Megumi, but he cares about Yuuji and his mental health. He wouldn't let Yuuji turn into a hate-driven monster, much less become a second Sukuna. He has helped Yuuji find himself before and I can see him being a grounding and supportive presence in this fight once again.

Now as mentioned in the beginning, I do agree with the points that Yuuji is becoming more selfish with his hate towards Sukuna and he could easily be consumed by it. Sukuna is slowly changing him in his attempt to fight against him. I like that development and am looking forward to it. We've seen Sukuna has succeeded in breaking Yuuta's ideals, but I don't see Yuuji being quite at that stage yet. Yuuji always had a viscousness to him, he was never a perfect little schoolboy with a halo over him, in that case I don't think Sukuna would've had such trouble with him. He was determined to kill Sukuna by any means necessary before Shinjuku, but he also very much always had Megumi at the back of his mind, being pretty much one of the few besides Hana or Higuruma who showed outright concern. That's slipping, but he just got there. Choso was the real turning point, not Yuuji's awakening.

And I just completely disagree with the last two tweets. Yuuji and Sukuna aren't the exact same, that would honestly be quite pointless and not a very thrilling message or ending. You made a boy give up on his ideals and be driven by pure hate or adapt Sukuna's mindset. Wow, groundbreaking. We just saw that happen with Yuuta. He doesn't have this genuine hate for Sukuna Yuuji has, but we see through him that breaking a young sorcerer's ideals and good intentions is possible. We don't need that message repeated with Yuuji. If anything, this might be a good reminder for Yuuji for who he might turn into if he's not careful. Yuuji becoming exactly like Sukuna, down to his title would be such a weird thing to end on. What's that supposed to tell us. There will always be a Sukuna? How profound. There will always be that one strongest monster in the world? Yuuta is literally trying to achieve that right now and you can see what a weak philosophy it is and unsustainable at that. Yuuji becomes the strongest sorcerer in history...yay?

Yuuji is neither mentally, physically and especially not spiritually Sukuna and he's not supposed to be.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Out of This World

A/N: This is my contribution to the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May server challenge. Was it supposed to be a 1k word drabble? Yes. Did I intend to keep it at that length? Truly, I did. Did I absolutely play myself like a fucking fiddle? Again, yes. Am I sorry? Fuck no, I am not. This story single-handedly pulled me out of a month-long slump, so I was not about to clip it's wings. I had a flippin' blast writing this one, and I hope you will have a flippin' blast reading it!

Prompt: Meet Cute + "Do you believe in aliens?"

Warnings: a bunch of F bombs and other swears if anyone cares about that, mentions of past drug use and addiction but nothing current or detailed, Dieter's wild finger-combed curls

Word Count: 5.7k

Fun Fact: The Rancho Mirage Observatory is a real place, linked with the city's library, which means that it is open to the public. How frickin' cool is that? Learn more here.

I can’t believe this is happening. 

Fifteen years ago, if someone would have told you that double majoring in physics and engineering would eventually lead to you sharing a scene with an Oscar winning actor in a big budget Hollywood film, you would have laughed directly in their face. 

Which was pretty much what you did when Sharon, the executive director at the Rancho Mirage Observatory where you worked, told you that the facility was going to be used as a filming location for an upcoming summer blockbuster. 

“Sure, Sharon,” you smirked and playfully rolled your eyes without looking away from your computer. “And we’re all gonna be big stars, right?” 

Sharon had a proclivity for puns. Cheesy, obvious, predictable puns, at that, but it was sort of endearing. You were certain that the “news” she was sharing was just a set up for wordplay that you could see coming from lightyears away. Sharon’s puns were rubbing off on you just a little. 

You, though, as scientists sometimes are when testing theories, were wrong. 

“Well, no, not all of us,” Sharon responded, a somewhat mischievous grin on her face. “Just you.” 

That got your full attention, your eyes going satellite- wide as you snapped your head up to look at your boss. “What?”

She went on to explain that the casting director for the film - a sci-fi thriller called The Goldilocks Zone - preferred to cast actual professionals for small parts when applicable. Doing so meant that there was far less of a chance of an actor fumbling technical jargon or performing a job-specific task incorrectly, meaning that there was less of a chance that something that didn’t make sense would make the final cut. Like an astronomer adjusting the telescope lens the wrong way, for example. 

Right away, you thought of every medical drama you’d ever watched with your mom. She’d been an x-ray technician for thirty years, and she always noticed when an actor on screen was looking at a diagnostic image backwards or had hung a film upside down on the lightboard. It happened often. Like, once an episode, often. 

From that perspective, what this casting director was doing was smart. 

But from the perspective of you not having a lick of acting experience, you weren’t sure it was the best call. 

When you pointed that out, it was Sharon’s turn to roll her eyes. “Please,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You basically put on a live one-woman show every time you lead a tour or host a stargazing night. And you answer the most out there questions imaginable from kids without missing a beat. You can absolutely handle a few scripted lines about your area of expertise. Unless, I mean…” She shook her head and dropped the borderline giddy excitement. “If you don’t want to do it you obviously don’t have to. It’s entirely up to you.” 

You stared at her over the top of your computer screen, face frozen in an expression of utter shock. After a few seconds had passed and you realized you hadn’t said anything, you blinked and cleared your throat. “Um… Can I think about it? And do you know like, what I’d have to do or say or…” You trailed off, circling your wrist in a so on and so forth gesture. 

Sharon nodded. “Of course! The casting director just needs to know by Friday whether you’re in or if he needs to start reaching out to other astronomers in the area. He sent me some notes about the scene you’d be in. I’ll forward them to you so you can look ‘em over.” She spoke your name then, your eyebrows raising in response. “For what it’s worth, I think you should do it.” She smiled, wrinkling her nose. “It’s not everyday someone offers you a shot to showcase the thing you’re most passionate about in front of so many people.” 

You’d opened her email as soon as she got back to her office to send it, and when you saw the name of the lead actor in the brief scene description, you nearly fell out of your chair. 

Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter fucking Bravo. 

You had to read it three times before the rest of the information sunk in. 

The scene you were being tapped for was one of the opening ones of the movie. In it, Dieter’s character, Thiago, is trying to connect with his on screen love interest’s space-obsessed kid, Jae, by bringing them to the observatory for a tour. The purpose of the scene is to drop hints at the movie’s main plot without diving straight into the action, as well as to establish the nature of the relationship between Thiago and Jae - which, from the sound of it, is the classic “this guy isn’t good enough for my mom” to “actually he’s not that bad” to “he risked his life to save mine and now he’s my family” pipeline. It involves both actors asking you questions during the Q&A portion of your scripted tour, and the whole scene is scheduled to be shot in two days, with two additional days blocked off for B-roll footage and wide shots. 

It seemed simple enough. As long as you could get over the fact that you’d be working with Dieter fucking Bravo. You let Sharon know that you were in on Wednesday of that week, two days before the director’s deadline. 

And then three months went by, the buzz of excitement growing around the observatory as the filming dates grew closer, but there was still plenty of work to keep you busy in the meantime.

But now you’re standing in front of the RMO with Sharon, watching as trailers and trucks carting everything from costumes to cameras roll into the small parking lot. It seems like an overwhelming amount of equipment and personnel for just a few days, but then again you have no idea of what is necessary to pull off a production like this one. 

Guess I’m about to find out. 

“This is so friggin’ exciting!” Sharon checks her name badge for the sixth time in half as many minutes, making sure it’s on straight. She’s beaming but trying not to explode, and you can’t help but smile. Because, yeah. It’s really friggin’ exciting. 

“I truly can’t believe this is happening, Shar.” You let out a nervous laugh and shake your head slowly as two black SUVs pull in behind where the trailers have finished setting up. “This is batshit.” 

Before Sharon can click her tongue over your choice of vocabulary, the latest arrivals emerge from their vehicles. From one comes a young actor you’ve seen in several TV shows, their face instantly lighting up at the sight of the observatory’s twin domes set against the backdrop of the hills. They turn excitedly to the two women who arrived with them - one you can tell is the kid’s mom, the other you assume is a tutor since filming is taking place during the school year - and when they turn back towards the building, their smile has nearly tripled in width and brightness, and you wonder if they don’t share the same enthusiasm for all things space-related that the character they’re portraying has. 

If so, this has got to be a dream role. Hell, they’re what, thirteen? It’s a dream role regardless.

The trio make their way up to where you and Sharon are waiting to greet them, and hands are shaken and names exchanged -  River Harmon, playing Jae and confirming your suspicion about their love of science and the stars, Marla Harmon, River’s mom who is just as eager to get inside and have a look around, and Addison Wright, River’s tutor , who reminds everyone that three hours need to be set aside each day for schoolwork. You chat for a few minutes, just small talk about the weather - hot and sunny before the clock has even hit 9 am - and River mentions the In-And-Out Burger that they passed on the way in, which you tell them is your favorite guilty pleasure in the area. 

You’re all laughing at some ridiculous pun Sharon makes regarding the term “animal style” when two more people make their way up the path. You suck in a breath and feel your stomach flip when you register Dieter standing only a few feet from you, accompanied by a petite woman carrying what appears to be a toolbox but upon closer inspection you realize is actually a bag full of hair products and grooming tools. Which makes sense - those wild and wavy curls definitely don’t tame themselves, and from the looks of it, Dieter’s go-to grooming method is just to rake his fingers through his hair. 

Not that that’s not working for him, honestly. Fuck. 

You let your eyes wash over the man in front of you for a second before the introductions are made. He’s wearing loose-fitting light green linen pants that are tied with a drawstring at the waist, paired with a peachy orange tie-dye tee and a white short sleeved button down left open. You can easily see his two signature  triangular tattoos, as well as a few hemp and thread bracelets around his wrist and several chunky rings adorning his hands. Despite the fact that summer has yet to officially start, his skin glows a sunkissed bronze hue like he’s been laying on a beach for weeks. To say he looks good is a friggin’ understatement, in Sharon’s words. 

In your own, he looks fucking incredible. A far cry from the tabloid shots that came out a few years ago, paparazzi taking terrible advantage of the fact that Dieter’s struggles with addiction were threatening his health and appearance. He looks healthier and happier than you ever remember seeing him look in interviews or on red carpets, and despite the fact that he’s still for all intents and purposes a stranger to you, you feel a sudden swell of happiness for him for working through those difficult times. 

He doesn’t remain a stranger for long, though. 

Plucking one wired earbud from his right ear, he winds the cord up and shoves it into his pocket with his phone, and then steps up next to River, his full attention on you as he slides the sunglasses he’s wearing up to sit on top of his head amidst the finger-combed curls. 

“Hi,” he says in a manner that seems far too casual when paired with the way his deep brown eyes cut right into your own. He gives you a lopsided smile and extends one bear-paw sized hand, and then he speaks your name, which catches you off guard since you haven’t given it to him yet. “I’ve seen some of the videos of your programs on YouTube,” he says as an explanation to why someone as vastly well-known as he is would know anything about you before you’d even spoken a word. “I’m Dieter.” 

You certainly are. 

He chuckles and so does River and you can feel Sharon’s second-hand embarrassment as you realize that you just said that out loud. Oh, fuck. “I mean,” you let out a huff of laughter as you wince at yourself. “It’s great to meet you, Dieter.” You meet his waiting palm with yours, his skin warm as his fingers wrap around it and give a light squeeze. “We’re all very excited to have you both -” You look pointedly at River, who smiles widely. “- here at the Rancho Mirage Observatory.” 

“Not as excited as we are to be here,” River pipes up, elbowing the man playing their on screen step-dad. “Right Dieter?” 

Dieter looks beyond you at the impressive building housing the massive telescope, and you’re struck by the look of awe on his face. “Yeah,” he states, nodding. “Sure beats the hell out of a sound stage.” 

River rolls their eyes and shoots you a look that’s brimming with adolescent snark as they throw a thumb in Dieter’s direction. “Don’t let him downplay it. He’s been going on and on about shooting at this place since we got the greenlight to come here. He’s more stoked than I am, and that’s saying something.” 

You’re not sure, it could just be the sun, but you think you catch a hint of color climbing his cheeks as Dieter spins one of his rings around his finger. “Yeah, well…” He shrugs, expression returning to neutral. “I’ve always had a thing for space.” 

River nods sagely up at him. “Because you’re from Pluto. Right. I get it.” 

That makes everyone laugh, even Dieter, who pulls River into a joke headlock and ruffles their hair, yanking their hood up over their head for good measure. “Earthlings these days,” he mutters to you, making the same thumb gesture at River that they used at him. “Can’t take ‘em anywhere.” 

You laugh, and you’re surprised at just how easily it comes in the presence of one of the most in demand actors on this or any planet. “Ah, don’t worry. We get lots of Earthlings here.” You shoot River a wink as Dieter finally lets go of their hood, and then you look back up at him. “We know how to handle their kind.” 

“Good, because I have nooooo idea.” He raises his eyebrows and swings his hands out to the sides and you’re not sure why you thought you knew what he would be like before you met him, but he’s smashing your expectations with how real he seems.And how different he is from the man depicted in the tabloids. 

Before you have a chance to respond, a man holding a clipboard and wearing a headset comes bustling over to remind Sharon about the schedule - A quick tour of the facility for the actors and crew, then time for the crew to get set while River completes their schoolwork for the day, hair and makeup for the actors, which you’re reminded includes you, and then filming - and you’re grateful for the PA whirlwind, because it gives you a chance to process the way being two feet away from Dieter’s smile is making your stomach flip. 

Get your shit together, this is work… Just work, with an insanely attractive actor who keeps smiling like that when the cameras aren’t even rolling yet. I cannot fucking believe this is happening right now. 

Thankfully you’re able to keep your inner monologue where it belongs this time, your thoughts only interrupted by the sound of Sharon clearing her throat and saying your name. “Shall we take the stars to space?”  

Oh, Sharon, you really can’t help yourself, can you?

You nod once, grinning. “Absolutely.” You’re still extraordinarily nervous about being in front of the camera. But this part? Showing earnestly interested guests around the observatory and sharing the wonders of science and space? This part you are entirely confident about. Beckoning with one arm, you cock your head toward the door. “Right this way.” 

–  –  –  

Dieter can’t remember the last time he was this excited to be on location for a job. 

Partially because it had been a long time since his dramatic roles intersected with his personal interests, and partially because there was a time period of about five years - with the Cliff Beasts debacle coming at the tail end - where remembering anything at all was almost as big a challenge as was finding enjoyment anywhere. The triple threat of cocaine addiction, isolation and depression was a hell of a hole to dig himself out of. If six feet is the depth of a grave, he was basically five and a half feet down. 

Crazy how a brush with mortality paired with the realization that his life was still worth saving can make a person want to claw their way back to the surface. And even though things with Anika hadn’t worked out long term, not a day goes by that Dieter doesn’t acknowledge that there was no way he was climbing those five and a half feet without her help. The fact that they remain friends is constant reinforcement that his worth goes well beyond his work on the screen or his talents in the bedroom or the number of zeros in his bank account. He provides her with nothing but his friendship. Nothing but himself, and it’s shown him that just himself is good enough. 

He’s even been invited to her upcoming wedding, and he has every intention of going. But that’s not for a few months still. Luckily the date is sandwiched between the end of filming for The Goldilocks Zone and the film’s premier. And with this being the only project he’s working on currently, he’s able to focus entirely on the film and then entirely on his personal life. 

First though, he’s going to focus entirely on this tour. For three reasons: One being that like he told you, he’s always had an interest in the great unknown vastness of space. The second, that he always tries to immerse himself in the world of the characters he portrays. And the last? The instant interest he’s taken in you. 

She’s fucking incredible. 

He’s already familiar with you from the videos that the RMO posted to their YouTube account. As soon as he heard that you’d agreed to take the small role, Dieter watched every single one of them, completely enthralled. Your enthusiasm was so tangibly genuine, your knowledge of astrophysics so deeply complex and your ability to explain things in ways that anyone could understand unmatched. He watched your presentation on Kepler-22b four times for crying out loud, and not because he needed that many times to absorb and digest the information. He’d watched and rewatched because it was simply that enjoyable. You made it that enjoyable. 

It didn’t hurt at all that he also happened to find you stunning. 

The five and a half feet down version of him would have tried to make a move on you before you’d even finished the tour. Hell, before you’d even started it. And though there was still a part of him that was screaming with how badly he wanted to drag you off into the domed viewing room and fuck you until you were the one seeing stars, an even bigger part was steering him in a different direction - one where he actually got to know you. 

Not just the you that was “on” for a presentation. Not just the you that engaged with River as they asked a thousand questions about the telescope and it’s range. Not just the you that worked at the RMO. From the moment he saw you standing there, from the moment his hand closed around yours and your smile widened so that it reached your eyes, Dieter found himself wanting to know the you that lay beneath your work. 

And then maybe the you that lay beneath your clothes. But that was secondary. A close secondary, sure, but secondary nonetheless. 

I wanna know more about her. 

That’s why when the tour ends and River reluctantly heads off with their mom and Addison, Dieter doesn’t retreat to his trailer like he normally would when he has downtime on set. Kylie, his stylist, does head back so she can call home and check on her wife and kids, and Sharon, flits off to her office. But you remain in the large circular room watching with interest as the crew starts rigging up the lighting and blocking off marks for the actors with different colored tape, giving him the perfect opportunity to start on that mission. 

“So, you ready for your silver screen debut?” You must have assumed that he’d gone with the rest of the group, because when he speaks, you spin to face him with a look of surprise on your face that only makes you more attractive to him. Dieter laughs, the sound a gentle one without ridicule, lifting his hands with his palms facing you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”  

You laugh at yourself, too, closing your eyes and giving a small shake of your head. “No, it’s okay, I’m just…” Another huff of almost incredulous laughter comes from your lips as you open your eyes and look straight at him. “Having a bit of a ‘pinch me’ moment, here.” 

You walk down the few steps from the base of the telescope to join him on the main level, the railing cordoning off the enormous piece of equipment between you. Dieter leans against it from his side and you do the same from yours. “Hey, I get it. I felt the same way the first time I was on set.” 

Narrowing your eyes and tilting your head, you respond with, “I think it was a little different for you, Dieter. This-” You gesture to the crew spilling in and filling up the perimeter of the room. “-isn’t exactly my wheelhouse.” 

He wants to reassure you that you’re going to do more than fine, but he’s caught up on the way his name sounds in your voice. Part of his brain jettisons off to thoughts of what it would sound like in a very different scenario. But that’s not the him in the here and now, so he clears his throat and his mind all at once. 

“Nah,” he says, bringing one hand up to scratch at his chin. “My first role had me literally shaking in my shoes. I was a little older than River. That kid is gonna be a fuckin’ star if they keep the mindset they have now, that’s for sure.” You nod, because it’s clear to anyone with eyes that the kid has their head on straight and an excellent support system to help them navigate the industry. “But me? I was a basketcase. So nervous, even though it was my dream.” He sighs. “Still get nervous sometimes.” 

That makes you widen your eyes in surprise. “Really? Mr. two-time Oscar winner gets the jitters before starting a new role?” 

“Oh yeah.” Dieter groans, shaking his head and looking down. When he lifts his chin again he finds you waiting, his own smile stretching out across his lips. “Imposter syndrome comes for us all. That bastard.” 

That pulls a laugh from the center of your chest and his first thought is how do I make that happen again? “It is a bastard, isn’t it?” You hum and Dieter nods. “Well that makes me feel a little better.” 

“Good.” He stands up straight, keeping both hands planted on the rail, and you do that same. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re gonna be great.” 

You suck in a small breath that he might have missed if he wasn’t so keyed into your every move. “Thanks, Dieter.” 

“Of course.” He taps his fingers on the railing, one of his rings clanging against the metal. “So, can I ask you a question?” 

You raise your arms to your sides, elbows bent and fingers spread. “That’s quite literally what I’m here for.” Looking over your shoulder, you gesture towards the telescope. “If it’s about this beauty right here, I can-” 

“No, it’s…” Dieter’s tongue slips out to wet his lips, warmth splashing through his chest at the way your eyes track its movement. “Not about the telescope. Though I definitely wouldn’t say no if you were just about to offer me a chance to look through it?” 

You chuckle. “I think that can be arranged, though it’ll have to wait until all these lights are gone. Or at least off. And it would have to be after dark for the best views.” 

“Seriously?” His excitement over the prospect of getting a peek into the cosmos briefly overtakes his desire to ask the question on his mind. You confirm that it would be no big deal and he takes you up on it without hesitation. “Done. Tonight?” 

You take your lower lip between your teeth for a split second and he struggles not to stare. “Sure.” 

That would be…

“Amazing.” He smiles and runs a hand through his hair. Suddenly his belly fills with the flap of a thousand monarch wings like he hasn’t felt in over a decade. It’s unusual, but refreshing, and he finds that he kind of likes it. 

I can’t get ahead of myself, though. 

Clearing your throat, you tap your fingers against the railing. “But, um, if that wasn’t your question -” You shrug one shoulder. “What is?”

Kylie comes through the door at that exact moment, calling Dieter’s name before he can answer. “Dieter? You in he- Oh. There you are.” She glances at you, and then back at him, her sharp green eyes measuring and analyzing the small amount of space between the two of you, and he sees her do her best to keep a knowing grin erupt. It doesn’t, and Dieter shoots her a look of gratitude which he knows she catches. “Sorry, but Tyler decided that we should do some promo stills while we’re here, and he wants to make use of River’s school time, so that means you need to get to hair and makeup earlier than planned. Like, now, earlier.” She adds that last part with a roll of her eyes. 

Dieter sighs. “Alright, Ky, I’ll meet you there in a minute.” 

She nods and turns to leave, sidestepping the sound engineer who is bringing in his equipment to get set up, and Dieter faces you. “Raincheck on that question?” 

You laugh. “Yeah. No problem. Ask me tonight.” 

“Oh, I will,” Dieter promises with a wink. “See you on set.” 

–  –  –

Your face hurts from smiling by the time Tyler, the director, calls a wrap on the day. 

For as nervous as you were going into your first - and likely only - acting endeavor, you end up having a fucking blast. And you know that it has a lot to do with Dieter and River being completely amazing to work with. They’re both somehow absolute professionals and class clowns, deliberately making each other laugh or flub lines a few times, but also delivering serious and convincing performances that you’re sure Tyler will have no problem selecting from. You only end up fumbling your words once, and it’s only because you’re trying to hold in a sneeze, which ultimately wins out as sneezes do. But you take Sharon’s advice and treat this like you would any other tour or presentation you’ve ever given, and since the scripted questions that Dieter and River’s characters - along with one or two of the extras in their on screen tour group - ask are right in line with the ones that you get all the time, the answers roll off your tongue easily. 

“I told you you were nervous for nothing,” Sharon says, nudging you with her elbow as the crew starts to clear out. They leave the equipment where it is since they’ll be shooting again tomorrow, but one by one the room starts to clear, everyone heading to the hotel that production has booked a few miles down the highway. 

You click your tongue and roll your eyes, the smile still stuck on your lips. “You did say that, didn’t you?” 

Sharon laughs. “I did. Hey, you want to get dinner or something to celebrate? My treat. Kevin’s home all week so he’s got the kids and I wouldn’t mind a night out.” 

Shit, I forgot to tell her about Dieter. 

“Um…” You lick your lips and return a wave to the last crew member who heads out into the main foyer. “Actually, Shar, Dieter asked if I would let him take a swing at stargazing, and I said yes. So… I mean, as long as you’re okay with it?” 

If she was beaming before she’s glowing now. “Say no more! Absolutely! You’ll lock up when you’re done?” You confirm that you will and she nods once. “Great. I’ll see if Margo from the library side is free. She’s always fun.” She shoots you a mischievous glance akin to the one she gave you when she first told you about the filming opportunity. “You have fun.” 

You try to tell her it’s not like it’s a date, he’s just genuinely curious and interested. That it’s just better for someone like him to do these sorts of things one on one because otherwise people won’t let him enjoy it. But all she does is hum an “Uh huh,” while she’s halfway out the door. 

And you’re left to wonder if you’re right. 

But you aren’t left wondering for too long, because only minutes after Sharon leaves, Dieter, looking exactly as he did when you met him earlier that day, strolls into the room. 

–  –  –  

You tell him that it will take you a few minutes to get everything set up. “Hope you don’t mind,” you add, as you start the process. 

“Mind?” He blows out a puff of air and watches your every move. “This is awesome.” 

As if to punctuate his point, the domed ceiling begins to open at that exact moment, the two sides sliding apart to reveal the night sky beyond. He tilts his head back as far as it goes to take in the sea of twinkling stars. Even without the magnifying power of the telescope, it’s a hell of a view. 

“If you think that’s awesome…” You begin adjusting the viewing lens, a small, smiling sound coming from you as you look through it. “Just wait until you get a load of…” You turn a knob, clarifying the view. “This.” 

You beckon him with one hand and he nearly trips over his feet to get there fast enough. He steps up next to you, closer than he was when the railing was between you, and that mass of butterfly wings goes fluttering through him again. And fuck if it doesn’t feel great. You move away from the scope but stay close as he bends down to take your place. “What am I looking at- Oh, shit!” 

In his field of vision floats a swirling, purplish looking galaxy with a similar shape to the Milky Way. For all the things he’s seen and places he’s traveled and experiences - both bad and good - that he’s had, this takes the cake and the cookies and the ice cream, too. It leaves him speechless and breathless and fills him with an emotion he doesn’t know how to name. 

And she gave this to me. 

You give him a few seconds to absorb it in silence, and then your voice fills his ear, his eye still pressed to the lens. “That is NGC 3031, AKA Messier 81, AKA Bode’s Galaxy.” 

You explain that the different names for it come from the three different times it was discovered and reclassified. You tell him how far away it is - approximately 11.8 million light years away from Earth - and that it can be found tucked into the constellation Ursa Major. And then you tell him it’s your favorite galaxy to show people, because it’s the clearest one that the RMO telescope can view. 

“Can you believe that it was first discovered in the 1700s?” 

He still doesn’t look away, answering you from his bent position. “I can’t believe I’m seeing it now in 20-fucking-24.” 

That pulls a laugh from you and he finally looks up, wanting to see the way that laugh changes your eyes. Tugs at your lips. Pushes your cheeks up. 

Beautiful. 

You sigh. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” 

He hadn’t meant to speak that thought out loud but you think he’s talking about the galaxy so he lets it slide. “Gorgeous,” he confirms, about you and the view you’ve shown him. “Anything else you can show me?” 

That laugh he’s starting to crave slips out again as you answer. “Yeah, Dieter, I’ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve, hang on.” You motion for him to step aside so you can reposition the scope. As you’re doing that, you bring up your conversation from earlier. 

“Hey, um, what was that question you wanted to ask me?” You shake your head, still making your adjustments. 

“Oh, it’s just…” He shrugs even though you’re not looking at him. “Something I ask people sometimes when I meet them. Kind of like an ice breaker I guess?” 

You step back and let him take another look - this time a gaseous nebula in hues of gold and green - giving him some time to soak it in before expecting him to continue. 

“I uh - fuck, this is cool! I…” He looks up briefly, finding your face. “Do you believe in aliens?” 

It’s clearly not what you were expecting him to ask based on the expression you wear, but much to his delight this time, you don’t laugh. “I do.” 

His heart flips like a gold medalist at the admission. Smart, sexy, and believes in aliens, holy shit. “You do?” 

You nod. “Yeah, I do.” Shrugging, you go on, stepping in to readjust the scope again. “Everything I’ve studied or seen suggests that the universe is far too big for us to ever really understand. And we already know that there are planets that theoretically could support life.” You gesture for him to look again, this time it’s the stormy, reddish orange patterns of Jupiter. “And as special as Earth is, I just don’t believe we’re so special that we’re the only ones out there. I mean, that’s what the movie is about, right?” 

“Yeah. Well, it’s about aliens looking for other habitable planets and finding Earth, so sort of the reverse of what NASA and whoever are doing. But… Yeah.” 

You smile. “So, do you?” 

“Believe in aliens?” He leans back against the railing. “Yeah.” He smiles. “Same reason as you. We’re not that special.” She is, though. She’s out of this fucking world special.

You hum. “Cool. Good to know we agree.” 

“Yeah,” Dieter takes a breath, filling his chest and letting the dizzy happiness you’ve given him take over. “This might be a long shot, I know it’s getting kind of late, but… Do you want to go get dinner or something?” 

You press your lips together like you’re trying to suppress a smile. It doesn’t work, and it’s the best sight he’s seen all night. “Okay.” You start shutting things down, pressing the button that closes the ceiling and shuts the sky away. “How do you feel about In-And-Out? I’ve been craving it since River brought it up and-” 

This woman is what dreams are fucking made of. 

Thankfully - at least for now - he keeps that part in his head. 

“I feel like you just read my mind. Let’s go.” 

--- --- ---

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@jessthebaker @ael_xander

[weed-cat]

hi! hello! hi! idk if i have told you before but you are literally just so os nice and considerate and i appreciate you so much! also based as fuck, i love reading through your posts, i usually refrain from adding ob things or whatver bc i am white and european so i don't want to stick my opiniond on your stuff but i always read through them!

anyway, i hope you're having a great day or night or morning or whatever time it is for you<33

emmi that is so so kind of you. secretly I'm actually a huge bitch but I'm only allowed to be bitchy sometimes as a treat. it's so easy to be nice to you actually you are so chill and funny and epic and friendly and you don't make kind interactions difficult at all.

also you are 300% still allowed to have thoughts and opinions near me I prommy. you may be white and european but you're a person with perspectives and experiences that are just as real as anyone else's. like just don't be combative with or try to talk over poc about poc topics and you're literally fine. you have a limited perspective on certain issues but so does literally everyone else on earth. tbh within any axis of privilege/oppression, the culture of Any Person With Privilege I Don't Have Is Inherently Actively Oppressing Me And Needs To Shut Up Forever can be cathartic for disadvantaged people but ultimately leads to a lot of social regression in the long run. unpacking and disassembling systems of oppression can only be effectively accomplished as a dialogue, not a TED Talk.

[aphrogeneias]

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.

Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.

It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.

Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.

You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.

That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.

"Good for her."

Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue. 

"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.

"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.

"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."

You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.

"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"

"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."

"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.

"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."

You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.

Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.

"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."

They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.

You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.

"I don't think you're broken."

The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.

"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.

"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."

That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."

"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."

"Yeah, and?"

"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."

One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.

"Eddie…"

"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."

Eventually, he did.

After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.

After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.

After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."

After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.

After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.

After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.

"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"

"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."

"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."

You felt your orgasm approach with a  deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.

That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.

"Did I…?"

"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.

"Happy now?"

"Only when you do it again." 

[bysaber]

weeping dragon

pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader

summary: neuvillette thinks he isn’t deserving of your love.

content: cliche !!!, reader trapped in his house bc of rain, lil antsy but happy ending

wc: 800

a/n: mm hii!! first fic here! I hope you enjoy it I kind of wrote it in twenty minutes and I’m just publishing it without beta reading bc (we die like men) I’m just too in love with neuv and I want to share it with the world lolol

Neuvillette couldn’t bring himself to even think about making a move.

He kept many secrets, and every time he faced your bright smile he would remember it was not his place to disturb your peace. After all, how could a young woman like you endure the dangerous claws of a dragon?

You had stopped by his house to discuss the latest trial and his emotions got the best of him, causing a rain to start pouring.

A storm was approaching; lighting was seen through the window and low thunders could be heard. Neuvillette plagued himself under his breath, hoping there would be a day where he could better control his feelings.

“Here,” he said as he handed you the cup of tea. You watched the lighting curiously, “I do not think the storm will pass for a few hours. You should stay. For the night, I mean.”

You took the cup of tea and averted your eyes from the window to Neuvillette’s face. You studied him with caution, as if it was the first time you ever saw the man — even though you worked together for many months.

“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring completely his offer.

The words got stuck in his throat and, for a few seconds, he really thought he wouldn’t answer. The man sipped on his tea, his mind racing while trying to figure out why you would ask that all of the sudden. “May I ask why are you asking me such a question?”

It was a small gesture, but he saw it all the same; the way you flexed your hand. There was something you wanted to grab?

Something you wanted to hold?

“They say… It rains when the Hydro Dragon weeps. Yeah, that's what they say,” you murmured and once again looked out the window. To the storm. “The Hydro Dragon. That would be you, right?”

Neuvillette almost choked on his tea, every part of his body malfunctioning and leaving him with only one thing for sure: in his entire existence, this was the first time he was left completely and utterly speechless.

Your warm and comforting eyes turned to him, and you grabbed his cup of tea to put it alongside yours on the coffee table. “Neuvillette,” you spoke his name as if it was a piece of poetry you were yet to learn — eager to do so, “Talk to me.”

And then— your hands, so small and fragile if compared to his, touched him. Your fingers traced his, and you embraced his hand between yours. He could feel the warmth of your skin contrasting against his cold one, pulling him closer, closer, closer.

“When did you figure it out?” was the first thing he said, scared it may be recent. If so, there still is time for you to run, for you to escape. To turn your back and never see him again. It’s probably the best for you, he knows, but this little selfish part in him can’t stand the thought of seeing you gone.

“A month ago or so, it doesn't matter,” you’re quick to cut the subject. “I didn't mention it because I knew you didn't want me to. I’m just worried, that's all.”

Worried.

She is worried.

The realization clicks in Neuvillette’s mind, for the first time in so long acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was too, deserving of someone’s concern and care.

“You are saying it does not matter,” he repeats as if to confirm what he just heard.

I pushed you because I cared about you. I pushed you because you made me feel good and comfortable. I pushed you because I thought my true self would frighten you.

Yet, you’re here. And you’re telling me it doesn’t matter.

“It doesn’t. Never did,” you frown. “I just wanna know, no— I need to know why it is raining, Neuvillette. Why would you weep? I’m here with you, talk to me.”

Without giving it a second thought, Neuvillette’s right hand finds your lower back and in a split second you're pressed against his chest, the tightest hug you have ever been given. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel perfectly as he inhales your scent and hugs you tightly.

“Neuv—”

“I thought I had to restrain myself from you. I thought I was no good,” he finally speaks his mind, distancing himself enough for you to see his face; the weeping Dragon. Oh, the melancholy in his eyes.

The eyes of someone who almost lost something precious.

“Neuvillette,” you whispered. “There’s nothing better for me than you.”

And it was true; so you pulled on his hair just enough to have him connecting your lips, a sigh of relief escaping him as if there was nothing in this world he had anticipated more.

[predestinatos]

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

[ddejavvu]

jake with a shy!reader i feel like that man would be so down bad he’d be unrecognizable to his friends

Tailgating by the beach means sand in your hair (and everywhere else), a trash can full of beer bottles, and a whole lot of wipeouts. For most.

For you, it means Jake’s sweatshirt bunched up under your head like a pillow as your back rests against the metal grooves of his pickup’s bed. Your pinky is intertwined with the man’s own as you stargaze, avoiding the cloud of smoke billowing up from the bonfire.

“That one looks like an F-35.” He informs you, pointing at a constellation that is definitely not a fighter plane.

“I think that’s Draco.” You hum, “Not sure, though.”

Jake turns to you with a furrow in his brow, “That little shit from Harry Potter?”

“No!” You shriek, louder than you’re used to speaking. Jake has a way of making you forget your reservations, giving you the courage to speak up around him.

“It’s a constellation.” You quiet yourself, feeling Jake’s pinky tighten around yours. “I read that it was supposed to be in the sky tonight.”

“You read up on the stars?” Jake turns to you, propped on his side in the truck bed. It must be awful on his hips, but he does it anyways to gaze at your side profile.

You give him a front view, turning your head to stare back at him, “I didn’t do it on purpose, I just saw it on Instagram, I think. On someone’s story.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but neglects to return to stargazing. He’s yougazing now, his eyes tracing the curve from your chin to your cheek, then sloping down the bridge of your nose.

“Do you think-”

You’ll never know if you and Jake share thoughts on whatever matter is in his head, because a sudden thud against the mouth of the truck bed makes you startle, and Jake nearly breaks his neck sitting up to see who made the noise. You draw yourself upright but slower, more cautiously.

It’s one of his squadron members, you’ve seen the guy before in passing, but you don’t think he’s ever noticed you. He’s on the shorter side, and he’s quickly flanked by both Coyote and a taller, unknown counterpart.

“Hangman,” The short one snickers, “I was betting you were passed out somewhere with a bottle in your mouth, not schmoozing some poor woman in your truck.”

You’ve met Javy before, albeit briefly when you’d passed in the hallway of his and Jake’s shared apartment, and in the few terrifying seconds of confrontation your eyes stray over the man’s shoulder and meet Javy’s. He sends you a kind, sympathetic smile at the antics of his friend. You feel safe around him.

“What’s your name, honey?” The taller man leans over the side of the truck bed, a smirk on his face, “Last one was Brenda- no, Brianna.”

“Payback, that was months ago.” Javy snaps, and even though you know it’s true, Jake still looks guilty. He’d confessed in you that he wasn’t exactly a saint when it came to past relations, but all that mattered was the present for you; that you were the only one in it, and he’s stuck to that without a problem.

“I’m not schmoozing her, Fanboy.” Jake drawls, a vicious look in his eyes, “We were trying to have a private moment.”

Fanboy elbows Payback incredulously, shit-eating grins already on their faces, “Sex in a pickup! On the beach, in public. Jesus, man, there’s nothin’ you won’t do.”

“I won’t hesitate to break your nose if you don’t shut your mouth,” Jake seethes, and his free hand tenses into a fist even if he’s more bark than bite. Fanboy doesn't flinch, but Payback's smirk dims.

"Lay off, man." Coyote elbows Fanboy, "It's not like that."

"The only reason you've never met'er before is 'cause I knew you'd act like this," Jake scoffs, "Doesn't mean she's some cheap fling."

You desperately want to intervene, but you don't have the words to do it even if you tried. There's a thousand swirling in your brain, but there's a stopper in its drain to your mouth, a thick clog of panic.

"Well what is your name?" Payback repeats his question, more considerate this time. You're glad he seems to have dropped his bravado, even if you're not sure Fanboy has.

"Y/N," You manage to speak, glad that you know your own name well enough to utter it even when your brain doesn't cooperate. You don't say much else, though, and Javy fills in for your silence.

"She's Jake's girl," Javy smiles at you, happy to see his friend settling down, "She's not big on talking. Not to assholes like you, anyways."

"Well that's great," Fanboy's demeanor is much nicer when he's not goading his teammate, "'Cause Jake never shuts up. Sounds like a match made in heaven."

"I'm gonna send you to hell if you don't leave us alone," Jake glares pointedly at Fanboy in particular, but the expression is extended to Payback as well, "I wasn't kidding, we were having a conversation."

"That's our cue," Coyote informs the other two, who knew but weren't willing to give up their teasing leverage. He rings an arm each around their necks, bidding you a kind goodbye as he leads them away.

"Darlin'," Jake turns to you as soon as they're gone, like a guard dog that eases out of attack mode, "I'm so sorry. They don’t mean any harm, just- they seriously don't know when to quit, 'probably comes from bein' so aggressive in the air. I'm sorry they were so pushy."

"It's alright," You nod, "It's not your fault, Jake. I'm not angry, I just- I was a little embarrassed."

"I know," He hums sympathetically, leaning in to peck your lips, "I know baby. Listen, now they've met you, they'll probably back off. And if they don't, if you see 'em around somewhere and they try messin' with you, you let me know and I might accidentally fire on 'em in an exercise."

"I don't think you should murder your friends," You tamp down a smile at Jake's suggestion, because the last thing he needs is encouragement, "But I hope I don't see them when you're not around."

A hundred feet away, down on the smooth, wet sand of the shore, Coyote finally lets Payback and Fanboy go, shoving their heads down with the force of his grip around their necks.

"Ow, dude!" Fanboy gripes, but he deserves it the most, "If I'm gonna break my neck it's gonna be in the air, in some sick-ass stunt maneuver."

"Your sick ass needs to learn to shut up," Coyote scoffs, "He's serious about that girl, man! And I wouldn't be surprised if she was running for the hills now."

"C'mon, Coyote, we were just teasing," Payback pleads his case, but Coyote narrows his eyes.

"You can't tease her, not like that. Hell, the first time she ever came over I made a joke about wearing noise-cancelling headphones for them and she couldn't look me in the eye for weeks."

"The first time she came over," Payback's brow furrows, "He's been bringing her around your guys' place?"

"I told you he was serious," Coyote throws a glance back over to Jake's truck, where his hand is pointed in the air once more, "Know any other reason he'd be stargazing right now?"

Fanboy's face wrinkles in a confused grimace, "Stargazing? He's way too douchey for that."

"He's way too in love not to," Payback marvels, "Holy shit. That's- I can't process that, man, that's weird."

"Get used to it," Coyote takes a swig of his beer, "Y'know he's been lighting candles in our apartment for her? I mean, it's nice, 'cause it gets rid of his nasty laundry smell, but candles. Hangman, candles!"

Fanboy rears his head back, "What scent?"

"Lavender."

"Lavender?"

"I know!"

[cherry-leclerc]

the red high heels ☆ cs55

genre: humor, secret relationship, leclerc!twins

word count: 1.9k

It's 2am and Charles is desperate to find you. Who better to help look for you than his teammate?

req... guys, i literally wrote different versions of this request at least 5 times...anyways, hope you enjoy a quick one :)

Groaning, Carlos stands up from his bed, making his way to the door. It’s 2 am and he was far too comfortable until he was rudely interrupted. Opening the door, he sees a despaired Charles, dark under eyes evident. “Charles? Are you okay, man?” His voice is raw and croaky almost. His teammate shakes his head, then nods.

“Fuck, it’s just that…my sister. Mate, I don’t know where she is.” Hearing this, the Spaniard narrows his eyes, all of a sudden awake. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” 

“Well, I checked her room, I called her and nothing. We’re supposed to be leaving for the airport in an hour!” 

Carlos stays still for a moment. “Okay, I’ll help you look for her, she can’t be too far out. She’s not like that.” The Monegasque nods slowly before beginning to slump his way into the room. Carlos sprints after him.

“Oh! Um…How about you wait outside? It’s just that the room is so messy.” Turning his gaze, he points to the spotless room. Charles frowns. 

“Carlos, this has got to be the cleanest room I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” He scrunches his nose before waving his hands in his teammates direction. “Hurry and put on a shirt so we can leave.” With tight lips, he nods. He’s slow about it too, the way he makes his way to his suitcase. Opening it, it’s empty. He slightly curses himself for being too much of a neat freak that he just had to organize his clothes into the small closet. “Some girl kept your shirt?” Charles' smile is teasing as he sends over a playful wink. Carlos winces.

“Of course not! Just have to…” He points over to the closet that is on the other side of the room. He pats his face. “You know what? I think I’m going to put my shoes on first! I’ll be quick, if you want we can meet outside.” 

“It’s no big deal. I can wait. I mean you are helping me after all.” The brown eyed man wants to yell when a kind smile tugs at Charles’ lips. Get out, get out, get outttt. 

“Of course.” Leaning down to grab his Golden Goose under the bed he takes a deep breath. His heart is beating so fast, he thinks it might leap out of his chest. Charles is talking, but all is unclear as Carlos reaches down. He quickly relaxes when he finds his shoes. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Oh no. Is your age getting the best out of you?” Charles snickers as Carlos grunts before sitting beside him, slipping on his shoes ever so slowly. Charles is growing impatient, he could tell. This was good.

“So, um, where do you think she is?” Carlos questions as he unties his other shoe. Charles hums.

“You know what? I have a feeling she’s not that far…Twin telepathy.” The broody man rolls his eyes as Charles shares a thoughtful glance. He laughs. “Call it what you want, but that shit exists.” 

“I bet.”

The green eyed boy furrows his brows at Carlos’ clumsy fingers playing with his laces. He desperately huffs. “Do you need help or something?”

“Almost got it…” The white strings become undone for what seems the millionth time before he finally gets the grips of it. Bravo, Charles mutters. 

“Coming back to what you were saying, what do you mean by twin telepathy?” Carlos stands up making his way to his empty suitcase again but Charles doesn’t even seem to notice as he becomes entertained by his bracelets. 

“Oh, well, it’s real. I feel like she can’t be that far. How else do you think I would win at tag when we were younger?” He raises an eyebrow over his teammate. He continues with a now moody face. “Though, something else tells me she’s with someone, y’know?” Carlos chokes as he turns to face Charles. I don’t, he squeaks out. “It’s just that I’ve had this feeling that she might be seeing someone from the grid. I told her not to and she said she would never, but I don’t know why I could never really believe her. Plus, she’s oddly been attached to her phone a tad bit too much.”

Just then Carlos’ phone rings. They both shoot their eyes to the bright light that shines in the middle of the messy bed sheets. Reaching out, Charles grabs it before handing it over. You should probably answer. Hastily, he takes it. 

Get. Him. Out.

He coughs as he slips his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, why don’t you start looking for her without me? I swear I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I don’t know where else to look, I’ve tried everywhere! Just hurry so we can brainstorm ideas. I swear to God when I find her-” A light thud echoes the small room as he cocks his head to the side in attentiveness. He raises his hand to his ear. “Did you hear that?”

The Spaniard immediately goes to rub his elbow. “I just hit my arm, that’s all.” 

“Be careful, mate.” He stands up. “Okay grab your shirt.”

“Mierda. I can’t find it.” But that's a lie because just a couple of feet behind Charles, it lies. Right next to a pair of red heels. Charles' eyes roam the room with a slightly annoyed expression before spotting it. Picking it up, he pauses. When he turns around he wears a toothy grin.

“Oh shit! You have a girl over! That’s why you went all shy!” He picks up the heel. “That’s crazy. Looks just like my sisters. Girls just have the same taste these days…”

Carlos quickly grabs the shirt from him before snatching the heel back too. “I-I didn’t–I mean I did, but she left! She must have forgotten her sh–” The words tumble past his lips so fast that he doesn’t notice how Charles’ expression has dropped.

The red high heel could have been anyones, true, but not everyone had your initials at the bottom. He knows since he was the one who had gifted them to you as a birthday present. You had begged for months.

“Hope you shut up now that you have them,” he says as you smile down at the designer heels. You nod happily. 

“I promise I’ll take care of them, Charlie! So sweet, I mean, you even added a nice detail!”

He’s fuming, but he’s also confused. “You motherfucker–”

“It’s just a shoe, mate!” Carlos' voice cracks in nervousness as his teammate strolls his way over. The Monegasque quickly grabs Carlos’ collared shirt as he pushes him against the closet. His body thuds as he groans. 

“Where’s my sister?” His harsh glare doesn’t equal his tone and that scares Carlos just a tiny…lot. 

“I don’t know! Let’s go look for her!” He tries to pry Charles’ hands off, but this only makes him push him back against the wood, harder. He cringes.

“Stop lying.” When Carlos looks down and doesn’t respond, he doesn’t think twice as he starts to bang his body against the brown doors. It shakes so much that the closet starts to get slightly unbalanced. And then…

It tips over.

Reacting quickly, Charles swiftly pulls Carlos away as they both fall onto the floor. The closet falls with a loud thud as they both gasp. But Carlos is quick to try to lift it up. “Calm down, it’s just a closet-”

“Fuck you, your sister is inside!”

Charles’ eyes go wide as he runs over to help his teammate. Finally, once it’s stood up correctly, they open the doors in a hurry. You moan as you rub your head.

“You both are so fucking innsufferable.” Your eyes are screwed shut when you reach your arm out for help. Your boyfriend is about to help you but your brother beats him to it. He leads you to the bed as you curl into a ball. “Oh God, I think I have a concussion.”

“We should take her to the hospital,” Carlos says as Charles bites down onto his nails. He agrees. They care, of course they do, but they’re not smooth about it.

“You grab her head and I’ll grab her legs.” Charles instructs as Carlos nods. 

“No!” You sit up straight as you crawl further away from them. “I’m fine.” 

“Amor, you should get checked out-”

“I don’t like that nickname. Stop it.” Charles mutters as he crosses his arms. You ignore him.

“Seriously, I’m fine. All your clothes saved me.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh as you giggle. Charles can’t help but glare at both of you.

“Okay, since you’re feeling well, then we should leave. Now.” 

“No.”

His gaze sharpens as you cuddle your legs to your chest. “Stop being a brat. Let’s go.” He reaches out for you but you only kick his arms away. I’ll leave with Carlos, you bicker back. “Just shut up. Let’s. Go.” He reaches out to grab your legs as he starts to drag you towards him, but you’re kicking and screaming so loud that he lets go to cover his ears. He almost loses it when you run over to Carlos as you hug him like your favorite teddy bear.

“You can go. I want to leave with Carlos.”

He clicks his tongue as he places his hands on his hips. He taps his shoe. “Listen, say goodbye or whatever you want, but you are not going anywhere with him.” You shake your head. Carlos sighs as he places a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think he’s right.” 

I don’t need your help controlling my sister, Charles wants to warn him but he doesn’t when he notices you deflate, furthermore. “No, I want to stay with you. I can deal with him later.” The Spaniard unties your hands from his waist before he leans down to place a kiss on your cheek.

“No, you should listen to your brother.” You know he isn’t breaking up with you, but perhaps a bang to the head has you slightly sensitive. Tears slowly fill up your eyes.

“Do you not want me anymore?” Your voice is small and he wants to punch himself for causing so much confusion. He’s about to say, you know I always do, but decides not to answer when he looks up at Charles, who stands by quietly.

“I…”

Charles awkwardly clears his throat as he twists his heel. You muster up the dirtiest stare possible as you say, “What do you want now?” He winces at your tone as he exhales in defeat.

“You can stay.” You narrow your eyes as you let out a wobbly smile. Are you serious? He nods as Carlos smiles at him in thankfulness. “But we spoke about this so many times, didn’t we? I always warned you that relationships like this take lots of taking care of, that's the main reason why I was always so against it, never because I didn’t want to see you happy.” His eyes flicker to Carlos, who’s attention remains on you. 

“I know that, but I don’t care. I’m willing to learn.”

“I know you are. And you.” He points sharply at the Spaniard. “I can’t believe you went behind my back! That’s my sister!” Calm down, you plead. “You know what, we’re twins, so I hope you think of me when you kiss her-”

The room goes silent as you stare back with wide eyes. Once a single giggle is let out, a string only follows as you hurl over laughing. “That’s so wrong!” Charles blushes.

“Forget I said anything, just…Be careful and treat her right.”

Carlos bobs his head as he hugs you from behind and you lean into his touch with a glow Charles has never seen on you. 

“I swear to God I will always do that.”

[tojipie]

adah imagine prisoner!toji getting eaten up by his own thoughts one night in his cell. because how can this be satisfying for you? having quick sex once every two months? a girl like you deserves so much better. so he brings it up one time during the visits, and you see how hard it is for him, but still, through gritted teeth he reassures you he wouldn’t blame you for indulging in someone else every once in a while. JUST THE ANGST!! and reader of course being like … what the fuck are you talking ab i jerk off to your pictures?

prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: hurt/comfort, angst

“and then turns out there actually was a fucking rat in his cell,” your boyfriend wheezes, his booming laughs marking the end of the story he’d been telling you for the past half hour.

the visiting hall is bustling today, packed to the brim with the wives, partners, and kids of the state’s incarcerated, all making the drive up right before new years.

you notice the sudden silence as your shared laughs die down, bemused at the inmate’s choice to not keep the conversation going.

“you okay?” you ask, reaching across the table to intertwine your fingers.

except toji doesn’t squeeze your hand like he always does, letting the appendage lay limp in yours.the older man opens his mouth to say something, looking around the busy room with a hint of anxiety behind his eyes.

“do you miss.. how we used to be?” he asks, voice sounding detached.

something sour stirs in the pit of your stomach at the way he’s acting. if the sudden change in ambiance didn’t give you whiplash, his vague question definitely did the job.

“i mean, of course i do,” you laugh nervously, rubbing a thumb softly over his knuckles. the inmate squeezes back this time, quelling the storm of anxiety bubbling in your chest.

“the sex i mean,” he explains, looking up from the floor to speak to you head on. “do you feel.. deprived? are your needs getting met?”

your thumb stills for just a moment as you think it over, though you doubt he even notices. the truth was yes, going from getting fucked every day to getting fucked every 6 or 7 weeks wasn’t exactly ideal. but what else were you two supposed to do? the man was serving a 7 year sentence for christ’s sake.

toji takes your momentary silence as an answer, sitting up straighter before speaking once more.

“i’m just saying if you ever found a man to fill in the gaps then i’d be open to it,” he explains. you notice a hint of unsureness behind his stone facade, catching onto the way his hand begins to fiddle with yours. what was he playing at?

“you’re saying you want me to cheat on you?” you ask, exasperated. where was this even coming from?

“god, fuck,” he sighs frustratedly, running both hands over his face slowly.

“i can’t give you what you need, can’t— not like how we used to,” his voice tapers off at the end like he’s scared to upset you. “shiu’s had a crush on you for years, i’d know he’d take good care of you.”

you step back from the table to gather yourself, pacing in front of the inmate like a woman gone mad. you’re grateful the constant circulation of inmates and visitors in the room is drawing attention away from you, otherwise an officer probably would have come over by now.

you couldn’t even believe what toji was offering to you. seeking out other men— his business partners—to “fill in the gaps”? when the love of your life was only a car drive away? fat fucking chance.

you stalk over to his side of the table, pointing an accusatory finger to his face.

“if you ever..” you pause, blinking away tears, “think that i’d give up on you just because we don’t have sex as often as we did then you’d be fucking crazy.”

you see him audibly flinch when your voice cracks, the weight of your emotions bringing him literal pain. toji’s eyes have gone wide, realizing the implications of his offer.

“i’m sorry baby, fuck, i’m sorry,” he whispers, pulling your face into the curve of his neck despite the harsh restrictions on touch set during visits. you silently thank the bustling crowd again for shielding the two of you, clutching at each other so deeply you think you might just meld into him.

“don’t want anybody but you,” you say with finality, pressing soft kisses to his pulse.

“i know sweetheart, i hear ya.”

you stay like that for the rest of your visit, breathing in each other’s warmth as calloused hands rubs circles into your back. neither of you say anything, not needing to when both do you knew you’d always find a way to make it work.

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[moonchildstyles]

have you thought about revisiting that anon concept about asterry and his girlfriend watching p*rn? I'm asking for a friend hehe

wordcount: 9.8k+

—————

(Y/N) blinked, staying silent as she took in the conversation around her. This was definitely not the avenue she saw the night taking when Charlotte had opened the second bottle of wine between the few of them. 

"I asked him if he still watched it a lot, like as much as he did before we started dating, but he wouldn't really say no," Emily shared before taking a pull from her wine glass, "He didn't say yes, but all he said was that its different now, don't worry. What is that even supposed to mean? Like, do you watch porn when I go to sleep, yes or no?" 

Charlotte and Sarah both laughed, joining Emily as she smiled around the rim of her wine glass. (Y/N) wanted to laugh along, but she was honestly still a bit thrown off by the topic. 

Truthfully, she didn't know really much about anything that had to do with... pornography. The closest she had were the scenes some of her romantic novels had, and movies that had her adverting her eyes.

Not only was the act of sex demonized growing up—especially before marriage—but anything else that had to do with it. There was no way she was going to risk doing any of her own research should her parents' close monitoring catch even a stray google search. 

After getting out from under their thumb, she didn't have much desire to go looking on that corner of the internet—she had done fine enough up to this point, she figured. Then, of course, she met Harry and there really seemed to be no need for any kind of video when she had him in the flesh.

(Y/N) honestly wondered if she had ever even spoken the word porn aloud, let alone discussed it with anyone else. This conversation was especially jarring given all of the giggling and the unfiltered language. 

"Em," Charlotte piped up, bringing her wine glass to her mouth to cover the wry grin growing on her face, "Have you ever tried watching it with him, though?" 

Feeling her cheeks warming, (Y/N) practically sunk into her skin as if to hide from the conversation. Sarah had mimicked her surprise some, though she was decidedly less shocked into silence. 

"Charlotte!" Sarah bubbled, dark brows raised, "Is that what you do?" 

Another peal of laughter came from the wine-soaked group, though (Y/N)'s reaction was more to fit in with the theatrics. (When it came to topics like these, she didn't want to be quiet even if she wasn't necessarily talkative—being too silent left people wondering if she was uninterested, judging them, and invited questions she wasn't looking to answer). 

She had always figured the viewing of those kinds of videos to be something that was done alone. She couldn't fathom anyone joining in and watching alongside what should be a particularly intimate moment. (Besides, if you had someone to watch them with, why watch them at all when you could be with that person?). 

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, opening her mouth before closing it. Emily nudged her at her side, a mischievous smile on her face. 

"C'mon, spit it out." 

Finally, Charlotte threw her hands up in surrender. "It's honestly not that bad, and I think you should try it." 

"So, you have done it!" Sarah called, bouncing in her spot on the couch, "With Elijah or?" 

"With Elijah, yeah," she settled, the wine getting to her tongue as she didn't mind sharing more details, "I walked in on him one time, and I wanted to be grossed out, but I just wasn't. It ended up working out, and now it's just a thing sometimes." 

Charlotte's ending shrug before taking down a gulp of wine showed the end of her story, though Emily still nudged her as if there was more she could shake out. 

"I don't know if I could do that," Sarah admitted, crossing her legs underneath herself, "I think it would annoy me too much, that Mitch was watching a video like that when he could have just called me or something." 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as the conversation then changed, some debate on if videos like that were allowed in relationships. 

She didn't know what she would do if she walked in on Harry watching something like that. While she couldn't really deny that she enjoyed the sight of him playing with himself (something she's shyly learned every time Harry passed his fist over himself before sinking into one of her holes), she wasn't sure what she would think about the inspiration behind the act. There was a part of her that would be offended, she thought, that she was right there and he picked a video over the real thing. Another part of her understood that maybe he wouldn't want to have sex right then, instead opting to take care of himself before moving on. Besides, it wasn't like he had photos of her to look at in the heat of the moment, so she figured she would have to understand. 

There was no use in being jealous of girls in movies anyway. Even if it did kind of hurt her stomach thinking about Harry reacting to them the same way he did to her. 

Around her the conversation had floated elsewhere leaving behind the illicit subject matter for something lighter (a movie Emily had gone to the theater to hate watch only to end up liking it some, and now she was questioning her taste level). She was able to plug into this one much better, that much was evident in the way Sarah had quit giving her small glances as if she knew that (Y/N)'s comfort was twisting. 

Despite now adding her own takes to the conversation and actively engaging outside of a few well placed laughs and head nods, the back of her mind was lagging behind. 

There were questions rattling around that she was sure she wasn't going to be able to keep completely under wraps the next time she saw Harry. 

—————

(Y/N) watched as Harry climbed into bed beside her, comforter pulled up to her chin as she sunk into the warm mattress. He gave her a lopsided smile when he caught her following gaze, her skin warming as she averted her eyes. 

Cuddling in beside her, Harry pulled her close with an arm around her waist, his ankle hooking around hers. She could feel his eyes on her, but when she didn't immediately match his gaze she heard a plume of laughter fall from him, 

"Why won't y'look at me, love?" he smiled, reaching his hand on her waist through the duvet to brush her hair out of her face. 

She shyly kept her eyes on the column of his tattooed throat, following the thorny roses. "You caught me." 

(Y/N) could feel the fan of his laughter as much as she heard it. His hand settled on her cheek then, his fingertips venturing into the baby hairs bordering her hairline. "Yeah, but y'catch me looking at you all the time," he countered, "Jus' lets me know y'like what y'see." 

Using his hand on her cheek, he angled her face towards him once more, forcing her eyes to meet his own. A small smile graced his features, his eyes light with amusement. Tipping his chin just right, he pressed his lips to hers in a delicate kiss. 

When he pulled away his smile had grown, dimples now touching his cheeks as he ran the pad of his thumb over the height of her cheekbone. "Did you have fun tonight, baby?" 

Their dinner date splashed through her head, along with all of the warm feelings she went through while under the dimmed lights. They swapped bites of food, shared a cocktail (Y/N) really wanted to try but was worried it would be too strong, and Harry pulled out any joke he could in hopes of hearing her bubbling laughter through the restaurant. 

Nodding her head against the pillow, her own smile took her features, leaving her cheeks mushed between Harry's hand and the soft of her pillow. "A lot of fun. Thank you for taking me." 

His hand slipped down the slope of her form, settling on the sup of her waist before he gave a gentle squeeze. When (Y/N) reacted with a bubble of laughter, Harry's eyes swam with adoration. 

"I had fun too, baby," he crooned, "Thank you for coming with me." 

With the low lights and the gentle way he spoke to her, (Y/N) felt like she was supposed to be tired. It was kind of her thing, anyway—being sleepy and decidedly ready to pass out whenever. But, that just didn't seem to be the case tonight, her head was too full.

When she had come to his place after class, Harry greeting her at the door, there was a pinging question in the back of her mind that made an abrupt return from the previous night. As much as she wanted to blurt it out, get the curiosity out of the way, it didn't feel entirely appropriate to ask her boyfriend about his porn habits just after walking through the door. That much was made even more apparent given the fact that Mitch greeted her a few minutes later, trekking from his room to the kitchen with a small wave. Then, Harry had told her he had plans to take her out to dinner that night, and there was no way she was asking such a question in the middle of a restaurant. 

There was never good time it seemed, to sate her curiosity and learn her own perspective on what her friends had been talking about. No time better than right now, anyway.

She just had to find some kind of courage to go along with the timing. 

Shuffling closer, the sheets shifting around them, Harry pressed a small kiss to her forehead, right over a crease she hadn't realized was scrunching the skin. "What's going on in here?" he cooed, "You're thinking too hard before bedtime, love." 

"I just—" she bubbled off before stopping her tongue. She swallowed, a pinch appearing between her brows. "There was something... I don't know." 

There were no words that felt comfortable in her mouth, nothing that she could feasibly hear herself saying when it came to the questions she had. (Honestly, she couldn't understand how she was able to utter some of the things she did for Harry between the sheets and now shy away over pornography). 

His hand on her waist was a stern anchor, the grip just tight enough to remind her that he was there. "'S alright, y'can tell me. What is it?" 

Gone was the amusement and the soft teasing he had offered up to her before, instead his voice growing soft and forgiving. Patience now settled in his eyes as he waited on her. 

Dropping her own gaze to dance around his features, she distracted herself with the spray of fine freckles on his nose. "The girls last night, they said something that I've just been... thinking about I guess." 

The warmth of his gaze traced over her own features. "What was it? It wasn't anything rude, right?" 

"No, no, no," (Y/N) rushed out, matching his gaze to show her sincerity. All of those girls were her friends, and Sarah would also never let anything like that happen around her. "It was—I don't know, it feels weird to say it." 

Harry's expression relaxed now that he knew he wasn't there to be nursing any wounds. "We've said a lot of weird stuff to one another, baby. I think I can handle it." 

She couldn't look him in the eye when she tried to speak again, instead dropping back to the tattooed skin of his neck. Her hands between them reached to take his shirt between her fingers, the faded graphic on the material distracting her just enough. 

"They were talking about porn." Her heartbeat sounded in her ears. "With their boyfriends." 

There was a pause, though (Y/N) could feel his unwavering eyes on her face. 

"Okay," he finally shared, the syllable slow as it dropped from his tongue, "That's what's been on your mind?" 

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried to find the next set of words that made sense. "I-I have questions. I think." 

Harry's expression broke into a soft smile she could hear through the delicate huff of laughter he let out. "You think?" 

Peeking up at him through her lashes, she saw his eyes bare of liner, the planes of his face relaxed and rounded, and his hair pushed away from his face leaving it all on display. He didn't look at all bothered by her avenue of conversation, leaving him to be the always open book he was for her, willing and ready to answer anything she needed. 

"Yeah," she said, settling into her skin some, "I knew what they were talking about, but I don't think I really understand it all. I thought I could ask you, if it wasn't weird." 

"Never weird, love," Harry shared, "You know 'm always here to answer anything y'need help with." 

(Y/N) blinked, tipping her chin in a short nod. "Okay, but if there's anything you don't want to answer, you don't have to." 

"'M sure I can answer ever—" 

"Do you watch porn?"

Practically cringing at the sound of her voice wrapped around that question and the fact she spoke it aloud right to Harry, (Y/N) wanted to curl up in hopes of disappearing. 

"Sorry," she started, her voice barely a peep, "I didn't mean to cut you off." 

Harry looked at her for a lingering moment, his brows raised high over his eyes before he melted some. An amused smile sat on his lips, a small puff of laughter exhaling from his lungs. "'S alright," he offered, his hand on her waist squeezing just enough, "Not what I was expecting, but 's okay.

"To answer your question," he drawled, "No, I don't—not since you, really. No need to when I've got my own pretty star, huh?" 

His lips molded into a teasing smile, but lopsided as he pressed forward hoping to catch a small grin from her. 

Keeping her shy gaze dropped, (Y/N) couldn't keep her lips from curling. There was a bit of pride from the flattery; he didn't need any videos when he had her instead. She was enough to satisfy him, and that was a nice thought even if it was a bit in the gutter. 

Spotting her shy smile, Harry let out a plume of laughter before he dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. Knowing him, he probably already knew what was going on in her head, even if she didn't say it aloud. 

"Is that all y'wanted to know, my love?" 

Her fingers in his shirt curled just a bit more, as if she were bracing herself for this next string. "One of the girls, she said something about her and her boyfriend... watching it together," (Y/N) prattled, her voice growing smaller the more she went on, "Is that normal?"

Harry lagged in his response, taking his time with his fingers fiddling with a pulsing pattern on her waist. "It can be," he offered, "but, 's not for everyone. I've never really talked about that with anyone, but I would imagine it could make people feel closer—sharing something that's usually only done by yourself."

(Y/N) silently nodded her head, taking in his offered information. Truthfully, she wanted to stall, find another inconsequential question to stall him before she was left with the last curiosity she'd had burning in the back of her head. 

The avenue she landed on was barely any less humiliating, but it was easy to fall from her tongue than the other she'd had on deck. She still couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke, bubbling off the question before she could second guess herself. 

"Is that something you would want to try? Like, watching it together and all." 

Skating his hand over the curves of her form, Harry tipped her chin up. Their eyes matching, (Y/N) could see the way he scanned over her features the way he always did when he was attempting to decipher where she was coming from. The lines of his features were softened, rounding into soft curves and gentling the longer her gazed at her.

"Is that something you want to try?" 

Flounder under his pressing, (Y/N) understood what he was going for—she was too shy to explicitly voice all of her wants, so he had to fill in the gaps at times—but was still taken aback none the less. Of course the thought had crossed her mind since the previous night, about what it would be like to sit with Harry and watch a different kind of movie than she usually watched with him, but the idea wasn't exactly the most compelling. 

She wasn't sure if she could really handle watching him watch someone else, and potentially become more turned on than he had even been with her. Nonetheless, she had never actually watched any porn herself, and she wasn't sure if she really had any real inclination to change that. 

But, there was something to be said about the way Harry had described the act: sharing someone to vulnerable, that is usually kept private, with someone you trust. He had a way of making these scenes sound much more romantic than the semantics did. 

"I don't know," she settled on, aware of the intensity in his eyes as he watched her, "I've never really watched anything like that, so I don't think I really understand what that would mean." 

Almost imperceptible, (Y/N) was able to catch the way his brows raised just enough. "Really?" 

Tipping her head in an almost shrug between the sheets, (Y/N) pursed her lips. "It was one of those things, you know." 

That was enough of an explanation to Harry; he knew her growing years and the drilled in obedience that followed her even after leaving home. Despite curiosity, there was no way she would have had the confidence to even make a search, that he knew.

A small curve settled on his lips, patience and understanding sitting in his eyes. "Guess that makes sense then, hm?" 

"Just add it to the list," (Y/N) joked back, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. 

His hand on her jawline that he had used to tip her face towards him now angled itself towards the curve of her throat. His palm was warm and agnate over her skin, the pad of his thumb stretching to rest on the hinge of her jaw. "Is it something you want to know more about?" 

"Kind of," she answered honestly, sinking into the fluff of the pillow under her head, "But...Really, I think I only care about what y-you like and all of that." 

It was one of the harder admissions, (Y/N) feeling as if she were asking a bit too much into his personal thoughts. If he wanted to share that part of himself, he would have already, she figured. 

The warmth of his thumb on her cheek expanded as he pet a small trail down to the line of her jaw. "I don't really watch it anymore, love, remember?" 

"Yeah, but," she started, resisting the urge to pin her bottom lip between her teeth, "What about before?" 

When Harry paused, (Y/N)'s fingers in her shirt pulsed in an anxious curl. 

"But, you don't have to answer if you don't want to," she quickly attempted to recover, replaying her words and just how pushy they may have come off.

The amused laughter that fell from his lips was enough to reassure her that she hadn't bothered him too much. "'S alright, baby," he murmured, "I was jus' thinking." 

When he didn't immediately offer any extra information, she couldn't help herself—her curiosity was so close to gaining all the answers she needed, she didn't want it to stop now. 

"About what?" she mumbled, watching intently as he just kept thinking.

Only one side of his mouth curled upwards, his smile going lopsided. "If I should tell you, or show you." 

Now, (Y/N) had no choice but to fall silent around her dry throat. Show her?

Harry let out a small laugh at her reaction, unable to hold himself back before he was pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose between her wide eyes. 

"I take it that I should probably jus' tell you, huh?" he joked, pulling away with a brilliant smile on his lips to match the bright lilypad of his irises. 

Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) spoke up, "Y-You could show me. If you think that would be easier." 

Though the request itself wasn't made with much confidence, she still was surprised it even made its way out of her mouth. Two birds with one stone, she figured, she'd finally see what it—porn—was all about, and learn something new about Harry. 

That was what she was telling herself anyway. 

Raising a single brow over his intense gaze, Harry took in her reaction. "We could do that," he mused, "But, I don't want to do that if it would make y'uncomfortable, love. It can be a bit... much, especially if you have nothing to compare it to." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she allowed her gaze to trace along the line of the single stray curl that rested against his temple. "I think I can handle it," she told him, her voice small as she avoided his eyes. 

Shifting his hand on her neck, Harry brought his palm to rest on her cheek. The pad of his thumb ran along the fragile skin under her eyes. "You are brave, aren't you." 

"I try," she murmured, shy smile evident in her voice. 

She could practically see the gears turning in Harry's head, his eyes flashing with just a glint of something she couldn't name. She was hyper aware of his hand once again gliding over her skin until he was carding his fingers through her hair to rest his palm on the back of her head. She matched her gaze to his bashfully. 

"Are you tired, or do y'think y'can stay up a little while longer with me?"

With a flutter of her lashes, and her heart mimicking the act, (Y/N) tugged herself that much closer to him between the sheets. 

"I can stay awake."  His lips turned into a lopsided smile, a single dimple denting his cheek as he gazed at her. (Y/N) could only tip her chin just so when he surged forward, pressing their lips together in a warming kiss. While it was chaste, there was an urgency behind it that she could feel before he pulled away. 

"Lay the other way for me, baby," he instructed with a jerk of his chin, "I need to grab m'phone." When (Y/N) didn't immediately turn to press her back to his chest, Harry lagged, keeping from reaching for his phone on the bedside. "What's wrong, hm?" 

"I don't get to see you?" (Y/N) murmured, barely keeping the whine out of her voice. She preferred seeing his eyes over everything else, knowing that it was him that was touching her. 

A soft hum of laughter fell from his lips. "'S just gonna be a little bit easier this way, love, that's all. I'll still be right here." 

"'Kay," she answered, though she didn't follow his instruction until he pressed another kiss to her puckered lips. 

With that, Harry reached to the bedside table where his phone was resting while (Y/N) twisted in the sheets to lay on her side with her back to his chest. The duvet folded, leaving her arm and back exposed to the chill while Harry took longer than a few moments to do whatever it is he was doing on his phone. 

She could hear the faint taps of his finger against the screen, scrolling and typing before he eventually curled around her. Harry conformed to the shape of her, his sweatpants-clad legs tangling with her bare ones with his arm hooking around her waist to position his phone before the two of them. He shifted the pillow under his head until she could feel the plume of his breath grazing the column of her throat, warm though it still elicited goosebumps to erupt over her skin. 

(Y/N) could feel her heart bubbling in her chest when she dared to peek at what was on his bright screen. Though there was nothing explicit or exposing on the screen, she was sure they weren't too far off with the dark color scheme of the site he had brought up. 

"Are you sure, love?" he murmured, his lips close to her ear, "We don't have to do this if y'don't want to. It can be a lot right away, and I don't want to scare you." 

Folding her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) allowed his words to roll around her head. She wasn't completely naive—she could imagine what the videos would look like, though she doubted it would look or feel the same as it did when she was underneath Harry. But, his earlier definition still stuck with her: this was a small vulnerability he was sharing with her. This is something he would normally have kept so private, but he was willing to bring her in and share something so different with her. 

She could be brave—she could keep her curiosity burning enough to keep from feeling any kind of anxiety. 

"I'm sure," she mumbled, "Thank you." 

Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, Harry hugged her to his chest for a lingering moment. "You tell me if y'change your mind, darling." 

"I will," she assured, despite his words being more of a statement than request. 

Reaching over her, Harry grabbed for his phone and began tapping at the screen. The brightness had lowered from disuse, but was brought back to life from his touch, leaving every frame illuminated once more. Snuggled against his back, (Y/N) watched, her eyes widened once the reality of the site was scrolled through. 

There was already a video pulled up on screen, showing what exactly took him so long to tap through his phone before. (Y/N) blinked, trying to decipher what was in the thumbnail before her. 

From the small snippet she could see—along with the attention grabbing, all caps title—this was a loving couple having morning sex on a Saturday to the sunrise. Very romantic and loving, supposedly. In the picture, she could see the beginnings of a sunrise through a conveniently, perfectly lit bedroom. There were gauzy drapes over their open windows and pristine white linens on their bed—even the creases and folds were artfully tufted around their bodies. (Y/N) couldn't be sure if they were just that perfect, or this was an expertly produced video. She couldn't tell the difference. 

The pair was barely clothed, their faces cut out of frame, leaving their bodies to be the star of the show. The man had tattoos—no where near as many as Harry, but still quite an array. He was undressed down his briefs, where there was a bulge that could be clearly seen against the woman's stomach. She was made of smooth swathes of skin, the ends of her hair visible as it brushed her bare skin before disappearing out of frame, and her chest bare. All (Y/N) could see that was distinctive about her form, was a small tattoo on her thigh in the shape of a red heart outline, contrasting against the white cotton panties sitting on her hips. Their limbs were in a tangle with one another, legs crossed and arms holding one another.

From behind, she could feel the brush of Harry's lips against her throat. "Does this look okay?" 

(Y/N) gave her approval in a small nod of her head, her hair brushing against her pillow. "Have you watched this before?" 

She could hear the curl of his lips in his voice as his words swept across the back of her neck. "A few times, yeah." 

As he spoke, Harry's thumb tapped on the video, pressing play and starting it up. She watched as the frames took over the screen, showing the humble beginnings of the film with the woman crawling over the bedsheets to reach her lover where he was laid back against the pillows. The soft sound of their lips meeting could be heard off screen. 

"W-When?" she asked, her line of questioning a safe distraction from what was going on in front of her. 

The soft sounds of their mouths coming together and parting filtered quietly from his phone. Were they that loud when they kissed too? 

"Not for a while," he reminded her, though his voice dropped lower into a whisper just for her when he spoke again, "Watched it for the first time after that night in my office at the shop though, I remember that." 

"You do?" Her skin warmed at the reminder of that first night—all of the things she learned that night while sprawled out on that couch. 

On video, the man had gripped the woman's hips and settled her atop him from the position she had previously held on all fours. The length of their bodies were pressed together, their faces still just perfectly out of frame to keep everything anonymous. Their kissing had turned rougher, a bit noisier as they sunk into one another. The sun outside their window was casting luminous glares over the scene, giving buttery warmth to their escalating acts. 

Harry's hand on her waist squeezed as he watched. "Yeah," Harry breathed, a heavy kiss landing on the back of her neck, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I saw this video and... she kind of looks like you, doesn't she?"

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat. There was a moment as the woman moved, her body on display against the heavy tattoos of her partner that had her seeing them in just the right light. 

Cotton panties, bare skin, delicate tattoo, all wrapped in white with the slow sharing of kisses between she and her lover. (Y/N) could see herself in that. 

It was an exhilarating feeling knowing that Harry saw someone so effortlessly sexy, and could see (Y/N) in them. 

She pressed herself against him that much more, her back against his chest. His hand on her waist tightened, as if preparing to keep her just where she was should someone try to steal her away. She could feel the fan of his breath fluttering over her skin as she watched his phone. 

The acts between the couple escalated until the camera caught the way the woman ran her hand down the man's body until she had reached his cock. Her palm was pressed against the bulge, rubbing against it through the fabric of his underwear. He moaned unabashedly off screen, whispering something for only his lover to hear. (Y/N)'s lungs squeezed when she saw the way the dots of wetness seeped over the grey underwear covering him. 

"Wh-What else do you like about this video?" (Y/N) murmured, shifting so her hand was laid over his own on her waist, their fingers tangling together. 

A breathy laugh could be heard from behind her. Harry's voice was just as low as he spoke, "Do y'really want me to talk through the whole thing?" 

"I like hearing you more," she admitted, squeezing his hand in hers. 

A delicate kiss was dropped to her shoulder, the curl of his smile evident in the small contact. "Well, other than her reminding me of my angel," he drawled, a tease to his tone, "'S different than some of the things I used to watch. I liked seeing something gentle." 

(Y/N)'s throat bobbed as she swallowed around her dry throat. Before her, the videoed couple had now moved on to sliding their hands into each other's underwear. The man's face was buried in his lover's neck, showing off a head of dark hair as his moans filtering through the small speakers. The woman's whimpering noises could be heard in tandem with the slick sounds of their hands roaming each other's bodies. 

"What was the other stuff you watched?" Absently, (Y/N) was aware of the way her hips shifted some, rubbing her backside against Harry's front. Behind her, against the curve of her bottom, she could feel something much more rigid than the blocks of his muscle beginning to press into her.

He paused before he spoke, mulling over her question while she watched on screen as the few pieces of clothing covering the couple's bodies were shed. Harry's hand on her waist shifted, leaving her own behind as he pressed his palm into the soft of her stomach. She could feel the pressure of his fingertips on her plush skin just as much as she could see the man on screen press against his lover's thigh in the same way. 

"'Member m'birthday?" he murmured into her skin, his mouth beginning a blazing trail over her shoulder. The tip of his nose caught on the neck of her top, pulling it along with him as he kissed the cuff of her shoulder. 

For a split moment, there was a different movie playing for (Y/N). This one featured she and Harry as the stars, celebrating his birthday between the sheets with his cock sinking into her throat, his palm smacking over her center, and his cum painting over her face. She wondered if he could feel the way her stomach tightened under his hand at the memories. 

"Yeah," she answered simply, the word carried on a warm breath. 

He hummed from behind her, a smug curl on his lips pressing into her shoulder. "Things like that, baby," he explained, "But I started watching things like this after I met you." 

The couple on screen was beginning to find the throes of their passion, now both bare bodied and reaching for one another. There was a part of (Y/N) that wanted to shy away at the sight of two strangers and their naked bodies, their recording of an intimate moment not sitting right in her stomach. There was another part of her that imagined Harry sitting down, pants to his thighs and his hand in his lap, picturing she and him in these spots instead as he fisted his cock. That part of her kept her from drawing her eyes away, urging her to see what he did—see what held his attention while waiting for her to be ready for more than easy touching and kisses in his bedroom.

Her mouth felt dry when she tried to speak again, only to be cut off when Harry's palm grazed the waist of her panties. Though she was still only feeling his touch through her shirt, she was sure he could feel the extra groove of fabric and the tightening of her abdomen. Only that much further, and he could fit his hand between her legs just like the man on screen was doing to his own lover. 

"Wh-Why?" she asked, building off of his previous response to keep herself from melting and begging for him to touch her when they had barely just started. 

Hooking his ankle around hers, Harry started pulling her that much more into his embrace. The sheets around them hissed over their bodies, his phone wobbling from its upright position against the pillow though it didn't fall. He pushed his thigh between her own, opening up her legs with the hem of her oversized shirt being pushed up and over her thighs. 

"I liked the idea of going slow, after I met you, love," he detailed, no longer playing around when he finally slid his hand over her form and slipped it under the end of her top, "Didn't really get off on the thought of fucking you as much as I did to kissing you and making y'happy." 

(Y/N) all but melted at his explanation. She reveled in the sound of his voice, mixing with the soft sound of the couple on screen finding their own bliss within one another. Through her hooded gaze, it was easy to see the lovers on his phone as she and Harry, the daydream building around her. 

In a tug back down to earth, (Y/N)'s breath caught when Harry fit his hand between her thighs. His wandering touch had finally reached her, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit and the length of his fingers down her center. She was sure he could feel the heat that had collected there, though she hoped she hadn't completely soaked through her underwear that quickly. 

"Y'like it so far?" he asked, pressing his palm that much harder against her clit. 

"Uh-huh," she breathlessly replied. Her hooded eyes were glued to the sight of the way the man positioned himself above her, thighs open for him to fit between. She could hear him murmur something to her, passing a hand over her form with fingertips skating across her breasts and down to the round of her hips. Every touch was careful and clinging, the sound of their kissing soundtracking the moment. "He reminds me of you." 

He hummed from behind her, his hand beginning to shift over her core in a delicate press to draw away her breath. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," she answered, eyes stitched to the video as the man sunk his cock into his lover, a shrill whine leaving her lips while he settled against her hips. His tattoos quivered as his muscles flexed under his skin, making the stars and constellations inked over his skin dance. "You're better, but," (Y/N) swallowed, hearing the quiet slap of his skin against the woman's as he thrusted against her, "He touches her like you touch me." 

Harry's response came in the form of languid touches that warmed her skin and kept her breathless even when her eyes closed and the video was an afterthought. Underneath her, he fit his free arm to coil around her form. His thigh between her two tensed, lifting just enough so he could spread her own legs enough to give her what she wanted. 

Hooking his fingers into her panties, he pulled them to the side, a cool shiver going up (Y/N)'s spine now that she was exposed to his touch. He dragged his fingertips through her slit, collecting the drops of slick until he circled around her clit in languorous pulls. 

She had never been so thankful for the stretched out neckline of her top as she was then, when she felt Harry's heavy kisses searing into her bare skin. There was so much of him all over, pressing into her back with his cock hard against her, his kiss on her shoulder, and his hand on her core, pulling more and more air out of her lungs. 

"You know how many times I thought about doing that to you, baby?" he drawled into her skin, syrupy and thick into her pores, "Before y'were ready, this was all I had. Had to picture you letting me spread you out like that, feel how wet you were jus' for me." 

With his hand between her thighs, slick fingertips on her clit before they traveled down towards her pulsing opening, she could have cried for him. She had been depriving him of this, leaving him to only watch videos and imagine, when they could have been doing this so much sooner. She wasn't sure at times—especially at one like this—how she had even made it through without his touch. 

"I'm sorry," she stuttered out for him, her hand grasping at sheets, "Yo-You should have told me." 

A rumble of laughter was felt against her back as much as she heard the sound fan to her ears. "Don't be sorry, lovebug, y'jus' weren't ready yet, that's all. I think we're making up for it jus' fine, don't you?" 

She could only nod her head, forcing her eyes to blink open. It was a task given the fact that she was still luxuriating in the tease of his fingers passing over her entrance before smearing her clit and restarting the circuit. Looking ahead, she had seen that the couple on film was thick in their session, breathless, the man straining himself as he set a controlled pace while thrusting into his partner with the woman grasping and reaching for any part of him she could reach. Watching the way the man's skin turned pink in the wake of her nails made (Y/N) want to do the same to Harry—what would the roses on his chest and the butterfly on his torso look like filled in with a bit of color? 

"I want to see you," she blurted out, unable to hold back anymore. She didn't care much for the movie anymore anyway, he was what she wanted. This video would probably still be there later, they could explore more later, if she really wanted. 

A teasing smile could be heard in his voice, the notion making (Y/N) want to feel embarrassed through she didn't have much room for that given the way she was rutting into his hand. "Y'don't want to keep watching? I thought y'liked it, love? Liked him?" 

"I like you," she countered, already turning in his arms despite the coil of his hold around her, "I want to see you now. You're better." 

He didn't put up any more teasing argument, instead helping her as she twisted and turned in his arms until his phone was forgotten in the tufts of the duvet and she had her lips pressed to his. His and that had been between her legs was now stationed at her hip, his fingertips denting into the plush skin as she melted into him. A sigh of something that felt like relief to (Y/N) slipped from her throat.

Harry parted his lips, swiping his tongue across the seam of her mouth, tasting her noises. Reaching for his bare shoulders, (Y/N) wasn't even thinking before she had the blunt of her nails pressing to his skin, just like the woman in the video. (Who must have been having a good time given the faint noises (Y/N) could still hear among the folds of their bedding). 

She readily opened her mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, eager to get a state of him. He led her through the kiss, pressing his tongue to hers and tasting through every delicate moan and breathy exhale she gave. 

This was definitely better than watching a video. 

"Harry," she mumbled into his kiss, barely enunciating before she was urging to press her lips to his once more. 

He smiled against her mouth, allowing a small slew of her excited kisses to hit him before he pulled away enough to meet her eyes. His pupils were wide and dark, leaving only slices of murky green to ring around them. There was a flush over his cheeks, warm and red that matched the hue of his kiss-swollen lips. She couldn't help her eyes but to follow the tip of his tongue as it peeked out to wet his lips. 

"What do y'want from me love?" 

Her answer was automatic: "You." 

(Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the dimple that was thumbed into his cheek as a lopsided curl took his lips. "I know," he said, much too smug, "But do y'want me to keep touching you? Or do y'want more, love? Gotta tell me or I can't help you."

Her mind flashed to the vision of the man fitting his hips against his lover's like a puzzle piece, sinking inside her and straining his muscles to making the best pace for her. That was what (Y/N) wanted. 

"I want more," she told him, her voice a whisper between just the two of them, "Like the video."

Harry drew closer towards he, his smile fading as the blunt of his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. "I can do that for you, baby. Do you think you're ready for me, or do y'need a little more?" 

She shook her head on instinct. "I'm ready." 

Tipping his chin, Harry pulled her into another languid kiss with his tongue touching over her lips. His kiss was a welcome distraction while his hand reached for the waist of her panties underneath the hem of her top. He pushed them down her thighs as far as he could before he was forced to break their kiss to help ease them off the rest of the way. (Y/N) felt clingy for him in that moment, already missing his touch and warmth. It wasn't much longer that he pulled his own underwear off, everything landing into a pile on the floor, before he was laying himself atop her. 

Much like the movie, she swore their hips fit like puzzle pieces together, the bones cushioned by plush skin. She reached for his arms reflexively, though she hadn't meant to grip him so tightly until she felt the head of his cock nudge against her clit. Her lungs squeezed with a coiled ribbon cinching around her stomach. 

Above her, Harry was like an angel. His eyes were bare from his usual liner, though there were still the stark black additions of his nose and lip rings pierced through his face. His skin was flushed and warm, cheeks matching his bright eyes. Around his features, his curls hung around in waved strands and curled ringlets. It wasn't the first time she had seen him like this and wondered if he was the true angel between the two. 

"Still feel good, love?" he asked, his hands fisted into anchors on either side of her head. 

Matching the intensity of his eye contact, (Y/N) kept herself from shrugging her hips against his own, wanting of feel along heavy brush of his cock against her center. "Uh-huh," she sounded, throat dry, "Please."

 Only a glimpse of his smile could be seen before he was dipping down to draw her in for another kiss. He sealed his mouth to hers, kissing her top lip delicately with the soft sounds of their lips parting and coming together to fill the room. 

For a moment, (Y/N) wondered if they would look like that couple if they were on film. If their love, and the gentle touches, and the shared heartspace could be seen just as easily. She liked to think they would do it even better. 

One of his hands on the bed disappeared, the mattress shifting without the weight, before she felt it again over the small of her stomach. It was nothing more than a soft brush before he had his fist wrapped around his cock, guiding himself inside her. The head brushed against her clit in a heavy press; she couldn't tell if she was more wet than she thought or if he had been pearling dots of precum from his tip while she was preoccupied. 

He slid his tip through her folds until he hit the pulsing entrance nestled inside. (Y/N) shivered, letting out small noise into his mouth. She could tell her was becoming distracted, his kiss slowing until he was doing nothing other than focusing on the slid of his cock through her wetness, socking in her until he finally pressed forward. 

It was a familiar stretch, the head fitting inside her, but it still took her breath away. Especially now that their box of condoms was pushed to the back of his bedside drawer, barely used unless she asked, she was able to feel every ridge and vein on his cock. She felt more and more full with every inch pushed inside her, her walls pulling him in while she attempted to keep kissing him before giving up on the act in favor of simply resting her parted lips against his own.

Harry's guiding hand had shifted to lay on her hip, his touch a bit slick though neither of them minded. He was just as lost in the feeling as he was with the way he let out shuddering breaths with stilted lungs, his hand on the other side of her head now holding a tremor. His breath came out in warm fans over her features, heating her that much further. 

He bottomed out with a wet sound of his cock sliding through her walls, his base resting heavy against her clit. (Y/N)'s hold on his arms tightened at the feeling, nails leaving imprints on his skin. 

Her heartbeat bubbled in her ears as she got her bearings, coming to with a flutter of her eyes only to see harry already looking at her with his own hooded gaze. 

"You alright?" he breathed, dilated eyes scanning over her features, "Do y'need me to wait?" 

"No, no," she bubbled off, "Please, daddy." 

That was all he seemingly needed to hear—the whine of her voice and his title so lovingly mentioned—before Harry was rearing his hips back and pressing into her once more. He split her open, her walls stretching and opening for him to fit inside with every languid thrust. The first few took her breath away, getting used to the feeling of the friction and every part of her body being fulfilled by him. 

"Daddy," she helplessly called out, her voice a shared secret for just the two of them. The sheets hissed around them, matching her volume. 

Harry watched her form above as she struggled to keep her eyes from closing. She wanted to see him; this is what she had been wanting when she decided to ditch the movie. She wanted to watch him the way they had watched the couple. 

"'M here, baby. 'M here," he murmured, his voice dropping low as his mouth fell into a gape. "Feel so good, love—fuck." 

Spurred on by his praise, (Y/N) hiked her this over his hip, the heel of her foot pressing into the back of his thigh. Her plush skin gave way to the angles of his body, cushioning him as he drove his hips into hers in lingering passes. His hand on her hip shifted then, dragging her sleep shirt the rest of the way up until her bare breasts were exposed to the heat of the room. 

His palm dragged over the swell, her nipple catching on the creases of his skin. Goosebumps erupted over her form, her lashes fluttering at the touch. Harry dipped his head down, pressing his lips to her other breast, the tip of his nose skimming across before he wrapped his mouth around her nipple. His tongue touched over the bud, warming her though she could feel the skin tightening in response. He matched the pace of his wandering touch on her other breast, allowing her to feel him in every place she needed. 

Almost. 

Feeling the base of his cock press against her clit wasn't enough. She needed more than that fleeting touch against her, more than just the harsh smear over her weeping center. 

"Daddy, I—" she cried out, her words evaporating when she felt him twitch inside her. 

"'S okay," he shushed her, his mouth popping off of her nipple before he dragged his kisses towards her collarbone, "'M here, baby. I'll give y'anything y'want." 

His words were nothing more than smeared rambles, but they sank perfectly into her brain. He was here—he had her. He wasn't a silly video, he was real and she could feel his weight and his touch and even his heartbeat. 

"I want—" she stumbled, her words failing her in the heat of the moment, "I need—Please, touch me." 

"I am touching you, baby," he countered, looking up at her through his lashes before finally leveling his gaze with hers. He hovered above her, his eyes still finding hers even as he jostled her with every thrust into her. "Y'need to tell me what y'want, and then I can help."

"My—It's—"

(Y/N) almost felt panicked, instead reaching for his hand on her breast to push it down to the apex of her thighs. His wrist strained under her hand when he realized when she was directing him towards. That was all the cue he needed before his thumb was smearing over her clit, circling and patting the bud just as she had wanted. 

All but melting into the mattress, the beginnings of a cocky curl fell on his lips. "This was what y'wanted, my love? Coulda jus' told daddy—would have done it for you earlier." 

Maybe it was feeling him splitting her walls open, slick with his precum, his hand on her clit, or the sound of his voice wrapped around his honorific, but (Y/N) could feel the bow in her abdomen tightening. 

She could only whine for him, tightening her fingers around the bones of his wrist as he kept his ministrations up. His skin glimmered in a sheen of sweat, baby curls sticking to his temples as he took care of her just as he promised. 

He caught her looking, matching his eyes to hers when she dared to travel her gaze to his clumped lashes. She expected a curl of his lips, a flash in his eyes, something teasing and smug to enter his expression. Instead, she saw the way his face rounded out, the harsh angles that usually made him up now fading into soft lines and curved edges. 

"I love you," he murmured, "So much, (Y/N). You know that?" 

This was a moment she wished she had on video, exactly from her perspective with every detail memorialized. 

Releasing her hands on his wrist and arm, she settled her palms on his cheeks. Despite the rocking of their forms, the rustling bedsheets, and his phone lost somewhere at seat, (Y/N) almost forgot about everything but his touch. 

"I love you too, honey." 

Something flashed through his gaze then, but it was decidedly softer, more delicate than anything she had ever spotted before. She never called him by many pet names, preferring his name (it was the name of the man she was in love with, she couldn't think of a better thing to call him), but there were moments she thought he might like the extra love falling from her lips.

Harry didn't waste any longer than a beat before he was smearing his lips against hers. The kiss was messy and clumsy, just off center with his tongue swiping out before she was ready, but she loved it. This was what she wanted, what had been on her mind throughout the video. 

He put more of himself into her, his hips picking up pace and his hand on her clit quickening. She felt the press of his chest every time he sank in deep inside her, splitting her walls and making more room for him than she even knew she had. Her insides clenched around him, sucking him deeper every time he sank back inside. The ribbon in her stomach was beginning to fray at the edges, unravelling more and more.

"B-Baby," Harry breathlessly crooned, pulling away just enough so she could hear, "Where do y'want m'cum? 'M al-almost there—fuck." 

She didn't have to think before she was answering him, "Inside, inside. Please, daddy. I want it inside."

There was one more twitch of his cock inside her, his head nudging against what felt like her stomach, before there was nothing left of her to give. The fraying ribbon gave way, spooling too tight inside before falling apart. She shredded around him, feeling like nothing more than glimmering fabric laying in his arms for him to toss and turn whichever way he wanted. She could feel herself grow wetter, Harry's cock slicking through her opening. 

(Y/N) clung to him, her hands on his cheeks keeping him close as she attempted to kiss him through her hazy mind. It was nothing more than her gaped mouth dropped open against his own, nothing more than absent calls of his name falling from her throat. 

Barely, she could hear Harry mumbling a declaration—that he loved her—over and over against her mouth. She felt entirely too full, everything too much, when she realized he was cumming. Just as she had begged, he let go inside her, painting her walls in pumps of his cum that mixed with her own. She wouldn't be surprised to feel the aftermath dripping over her thighs. 

By the time Harry's bedroom came back to fruition around her, (Y/N) wasn't sure if she had been breathing properly since he landed atop her. Everything around her was wispy, not quite real, other than Harry himself. He was a comforting weight, an anchor she clung to. 

Sinking atop her, he rested his cheek on top of her chest. His nose skimmed her throat as he nuzzled closer to her, the length of his lashes tickling her bare chest. 

"Y'alright, love?" he murmured, just as out of breath as she was. 

"Mhm," she hummed, wrapping her arms around him in a clumsy hug, "I love you too, by the way." 

A rumbling laugh fell from his chest. "Love you more." 

With a small kiss being pressed to her sternum, harry began to untangle himself from her hold. He righted her shirt on her torso, covering her chest and keeping out the call that was beginning to seep over their sweat-glimmered skin now that the sheets had slid off of them.

"Where are you going?" she almost whined, reaching for him when he shifted out from between her cushioning hips. 

His smile was tender, affection swimming in his lightening gaze as he looked at her. He brushed a stray hair out of her face, keeping her features clear for his admiration. "We've gotta clean up, love. Can't go to bed like this, can we?" 

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) didn't want to answer him. He was right—she needed to use the restroom and find a different pair of underwear for the night, while Harry inevitably searched for new sheets to change the bed into. But she didn't want to do that right now. She didn't want to walk around on wobbly legs, and go through her designated drawer, or anything else. She didn't want to touch anything that wasn't him. 

Instead, (Y/N) clung to him, using her weight to tug him down until he finally relented. Harry gave in with a sigh though he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. 

"Five more minutes, 'kay?" he bargained, cuddling her into him with her face in his throat and chin on the crown of her head. He even tugged the sheet up to blanket their forms once more, keeping her warm before patting her hip through the material.

(Y/N) smiled, pecking a small kiss to his neck. 

"Five more minutes." 

She'd stretch it until ten. 

—————

I finally got around to this request so thank you for everyone bein patient!!!! thank you for reading, sorry for any mistakes and if there's any ideas or requests you have send them in !!!

[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 30 — SOMNOPHILIA

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, cnc, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, usage of nicknames, somnophilia.

WC: 1.1k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! another one of my purely self indulgent fic omg i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“Fuck! I shouldn’t be reading this.”

Jay was by far, possibly the sweetest guy you had ever come across in life. Despite having the face of a literal god, he was always calm and humble, everything you could have asked for in a roommate.

Which also meant that he respected your boundaries, a little too much for your liking, never looking your way for more than ten seconds, failing to maintain eye contact.

You thought he was doing it to be respectful towards you, but the groans of your name coming from his room at night said otherwise. Sharing spaces meant that you had to do such things (read: be respectful) but you didn’t want that.

You often find yourself pondering about how it would be had Jay been a little different, a little more shameless with his approach. He was beautiful, he clearly oozed confidence and was the epitome of non sexual dominance.

Yet your mind kept drifting to the question of how it would be to feel his sexual dominance instead.

Jay may be a saint but you weren’t one by any means, you’d stare at him any chance you get, it’s always the best sight to see him stretching in the morning with grey sweatpants on.

And as an output to your pent up frustration, you keep a diary of the things you want Jay to do to you, writing about your fantasies in your own handwriting because writing on the notes app doesn’t feel as filthy.

You took your chance when Jay came into your room to ask for a few extra hangers to arrange his new shirts.

Your diary was wide open as Jay sat down on your bed. He didn’t mean to pry, but it was literally right in front of his eyes as he waited for you to get those hangers from the storage.

His name on your diary though, was enough to get his attention.

I wish Jay would be a little bold, I just wish he’d be a little more perverted. I wish he’d touch me and use me for his pleasure instead of locking his room and moaning out my name during nights when he thinks I’m asleep. He’s too sweet, too much of a gentleman to make any moves. But it won’t stop me from wishing to be woken up with his cock stuffed in my pussy, there’s nothing more I ask for.

Jay didn’t realize just how tight his grip was on your diary, not being able to comprehend the filth you had been writing. He kept the diary back the second he heard you coming back with the hangers.

He couldn’t look you in the eyes, too deep in his head still thinking about how you had admitted that you wanted to be fucked by him while sleeping.

He couldn’t sleep that night, nor could he work up the courage to get into your room to do exactly what you had wanted from him. However, he couldn’t stop himself from getting hard too.

He really wanted to fuck you senseless.

You were disappointed. You knew that Jay had definitely come across your diary, yet he turned a blind eye on it, which you thought would be out of respect again, when in reality, Jay was simply trying to convince himself that you wanted it.

Two nights passed by, and you lost a sliver of hope. Still, you wore your slip nightgown with no panties just in case.

Jay was fucked up, his carnal desire taking over as he got up from his bed, “she wants it,” he told himself in front of the mirror, nodding once before making his way to your room.

The dim lights of your room were enough to guide him to your bed and he was extra careful, taking the blanket off your figure, a low groan leaving his mouth the second he saw your little dress all ridden up, displaying your pussy to him.

“Fuck,” he moved closer to get a better look, caressing your thighs gently to make sure you were deep in your sleep.

He wants to ruin you already, parting your legs when he doesn’t sense any movement from you, getting in between to have a little taste, which he’d been craving since the day he first saw you. He starts off gently, littering soft kisses over the expanse of your inner thighs, squeezing them as he gets closer to your core.

He licks his lips at the sight of your glistening folds, chuckling at the fact that your body responds to his touches despite you being asleep.

You stir in your sleep the second he lays his tongue flat against your cunt, he’s slow with his movements, but also tempted to be fast as he engages in circling your clit with his thumb, his tongue working wonders on your folds.

A gasp leaves your mouth, causing him to freeze his actions for a brief second, getting up to look at your eyes which were still closed, breathing slightly sped up, which means that he had to work fast.

He spit on your cunt for lubrication, getting rid of his sweatpants as he didn’t bother wearing any T-shirt. He was hard. Harder than he had ever been, precum leaking from the tip of his cock, which he strokes a few times before positioning himself, his cock prodding your entrance.

“Gonna have you screaming for my cock,” Jay whispered, looking at your innocent sleeping face.

He grabs your waist, getting into the missionary position, not before giving your tits some attention and squeezes, but now he was desperate to have his cock in you.

It’s easy to bottom out with how wet you are, his groans loud with how your warm walls clenched around him so desperately, and he could sense that your sleep was on the verge of breaking, your eyes blinking open.

“J—Jay?” You moan, seeing him on top of you with his cock stuffed deep inside your pussy.

It felt like a dream, especially when you had lost hope, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when his tip hit that particular spot.

His chain caressed your clavicle, “finally awake, baby?” He whispered, thrusting in deeper, your back arching as you held on to his shoulders for support, “been waiting for me to fuck you, hm? Now you have me,” he groaned.

“Fuck—Jay,” you cried out, breathy moans leaving your mouth and he bends down to kiss you feverishly, “I’ve been waiting so long for this,” you admit, “didn’t think you’d do it—”

“Yeah?” He took it as a challenge to go even harder, “why? Cause I’m too much of a gentleman?” He mocked your diary entry, making it a point to twist around slightly to thrust in deeper, his hips snapping against yours, chuckling when you mumble incoherently.

“I’ll show you how much of a gentleman I can be, baby.”

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[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 52 || The Things Done in Private

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, smut, & angst if u squint.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.6k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——WHILE YOU WERE BUSY confessing your love to Choso and having that long-ass conversation in his car, Geto and Yuki had been left in the cafe.

When you initially left to chase after Choso, Geto and Yuki turned to each other before laughing. They found the entire thing entertaining more than ever and swore they were watching a drama unfold.

But, after the shared laughter, Yuki smacked Geto’s arm, “Now, why the hell did you cause all that?” She asked with a raised brow.

Geto snickered, “Because there’s too much they don’t know about each other.”

Yuki scoffed, “Meaning?”

“I can’t explain it all to you since it’s not my place but, trust me when I say, there are things she needs to talk to him about,” Geto explained vaguely.

“Right… So you and her really were good friends?”

“We could’ve ended up besties,” Geto hums, shrugging to himself, “But, I didn’t want to put myself between her and…”

“Her and Choso?” Yuki questions with a tilt of her head.

“No, someone else,” Geto murmurs. He didn’t want to mention Gojo again because, in his mind, Yuki didn’t need to know all of your business, “Anyway, I brought up Sukuna to help the two. Watch them come back as a married couple within the next thirty minutes.”

Yuki scoffs, “Y’know what, let’s bet on it!” She exclaims, moving to stick her hand out, “Thirty minutes; she comes back alone ready to kick your ass because you fucked it all up for her.”

Geto snickers and moves to shake the blonde’s hand, “Thirty minutes; they come back together happier than ever.”

The two shake each other’s hands firmly, solidifying their bet and deciding that the loser would have to buy the winner something.

Turns out they were both wrong though because as they spent the rest of their time together talking and catching up, two hours had passed, and neither you nor Choso had returned. It was raining outside and the sound of thunder is what caused Geto to remember the bet made.

He turned to look out the window behind him, seeing how hard it was raining, and letting out a scoff, “Seems we were both wrong.”

“Think they’re okay?” Yuki asks.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Geto shrugged, “Probably long gone by now anyway.”

Yuki sighed and moved to rest her cheek against her knuckles, “That’s no funn, they were supposed to come backkk…”

Geto shakes his head at the woman as he moves to stand up, her eyes following him, “It’s for the best, I’m sure. Plus, it started raining not too long after they walked out so it makes sense they didn't come back.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where are you going?”

“Home,” Geto sighs, “I have a roommate to feed.”

Yuki lets out a snort, “To feed? You talk about Gojo as if he were a pet.”

“He is sometimes,” The raven-haired male jokes, “But I meant I should go home and tell him what happened here, he’d want to know.”

She raises a brow, “Why?”

“He’s nosy and will wanna know why I stayed out longer than I told him I would,” Geto explains, chuckling to himself as he grabs his things.

“So basically,” Yuki starts laughing a bit, “You have to keep your boyfriend updated with your social life?”

Geto frowns, “He’s not my boyfriend, stop that.”

The woman begins to snicker, “Right, right, sure.”

Geto rolls his eyes and after grabbing his bag, he turns to walk away, “I’ll see you later, Yuki.”

“Oh come onn, you can’t just leave me here!” She huffs, “At least give me a ride homeee…”

“Nope, you’re the one who thought a bike would be a better investment than a car,” Geto replies as he furthers away from her.

The sound of her groaning dramatically is the last thing Geto hears before exiting the cafe. He was lucky enough to have an umbrella in the bag he brought with him so he quickly opened the item and swung it up and over his head.

Making his way through the parking lot, he sees that Choso’s car is no longer where it was earlier and the sight makes Geto curious. He then glances to where he remembers your car being parked and once he sees it was left in the same place, he smiles to himself.

He knew things would work out just fine.

After that, Geto makes it to his vehicle and steadily gets in. Today was quite the day and he started to wonder what his best friend was doing while you were here at the cafe all this time…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The answer to that was simple. 

Gojo Satoru had been going through it at home. Since he had the apartment to himself and no Suguru to vent to because he was out, Gojo was quite literally losing his mind.

From the second you walked out the door, Gojo rested his head against it and wondered if he should go after you and take everything he said back. Perhaps there was a way for him to fix things-

Yeah, no. He purged those thoughts from his mind the moment they came. And of course, to make matters worse, you left him with an annoying tent in his pants.

Gojo let out a groan as he lifted his head from the door and trudged to his bedroom. He kicked his door shut and shuffled over to his bed, laying face first against it and grunting at the friction against his member.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Gojo grumbled to himself. It was one of those aggravating boners that wouldn’t die down.

You often left him like this too. Nearly every time Gojo had the pleasure of kissing you, he’d gotten hard. Whether it was during the kiss or directly after, it never mattered, his cock always sprung up because of you.

Hell, even on Christmas when you first hugged him he had to control his body. You made him feel like a teenager with the way the smallest touches from you went straight to his dick.

As of now, his tip was leaking in precum the more he thought about you. Gojo had to shift around to lay on his back, his legs hanging off the bed as he stared up at his ceiling still thinking about you.

Do you know what you do to him?  Are you aware of how much the very idea of you turns him on? Gojo shuts his eyes to try and calm his thoughts but it’s no help, the second his eyelids shut, he’s picturing you all over again.

His hand moves on its own to rest over the bulge in his sweats as he has images of you staring up at him in his head, the sound of you uttering his name simply echoing through his brain.

Fuck, he loved the way you said his name. His fingers curl around his length and he palms himself through his clothes. He’d do anything to hear you moan his name again.

It feels like it’s been forever. Part of Gojo feels like he should’ve kept you with him longer. You were in such a perfect position too, all he’d have to do was lift you up against that door and fuck you right then and there.

His hand movements over the prominent print of his cock grow more eager and Gojo sighs heavily. Then, he decides that his boner isn’t going to go down on its own so he might as well just take care of it already.

Gojo starts to move around, shifting his sweats down enough and sitting up while pulling his phone out. He could use his imagination of you to get off no problem but, another idea had come to mind. It was perverted of him but he didn’t care.

His fingers tapped over his phone screen quickly, moving to head to the nearest social app, which in this case was Instagram. He knew yours by heart and was quick to type it in, feeling like such a pervert as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

Gojo was beyond desperate so he went through your page, finding a picture of you from the summertime. The caption said something about the last photo being taken by Shoko but Gojo wasn’t paying attention to any of that.

There was a collection of images posted, one in particular imprinted in the man’s brain from a while ago. He swiped through the images before he landed on it. It was taken in a bathroom, dim lighting showing what was important and good god Gojo’s cock was twitching at the sight.

It was the only image posted that could be considered a thirst trap. You hand one hand on the counter and the other up at your lip, the pose seeming as though you were checking yourself out in the mirror. In your reflection, your cleavage was exposed and one of the straps to the thin tank top you wore was hanging off your shoulder.

You were braless but no one could really tell unless they paid close enough attention, which Gojo did. Then, the entirety of your back profile was revealed as well, the arch you had as you leaned forward and the way the small shorts you wore clung to your ass made Gojo let out a heavy breath.

This was so fucked up. He shouldn’t be doing this but there he was anyway, reaching his hand into his briefs and tugging his cock out.

So much of your skin was exposed and the shorts you were wearing was the perfect tease. Gojo knew what you looked like beneath all that after all, he knows what you feel like, what you smell like, what you sound like.

So, this photo of you was just enough to feed his imagination. He knew you at the time this picture was taken, just never talked to you. 

Even so, none of that mattered right now, not when this one photo was enough to have Gojo’s mind running rampant. His hand started moving on its own, a groan leaving his lips as his fingers wrapped around his cock and he began to jerk himself off.

He’d done this plenty of times with you in mind but never to a photo before. What would you think if you saw him like this? Legs spread, veiny hands running up and down his shaft as his eyes remained glued to such a teasing picture.

“Fuck,” Gojo moaned, just thinking about you ever seeing him like this drove him crazy.

He soon tosses his phone and just leans back a little, focusing on relieving himself. All he needed was that image in mind to continue, his imagination coaxing him through his acts.

Gojo let out a pant as he started to picture you instead of his hand. He remembered so vividly how you forced him to list all the things he missed about you whilst teasing him, the way your index was swirling around his tip so teasingly— he mimicked the motion and had to bite his lip to conceal a whine.

He recalls how small your hand is compared to his cock and the way you’d jerked him off so slowly. Gojo has every moment with you imprinted into the forefront of his brain, if he thinks hard enough, he could almost feel you over him again.

Your cunt was always so damn wet, so tight, so fucking intoxicating. Gojo’s hand began to increase in pace, slick sounds of him jerking off filling his room. He wishes that the last time he had sex with you, he was able to touch you because fuck is it torture to think back on it now.

He wanted so badly to grab onto your hips and fuck his lengthy cock up into you, only to praise you for taking him so well. And then there was today and the sounds you let out just from a couple of kisses. How whiney and breathy your voice had been as you’d uttered a simple don’t stop while grinding against his leg.

Gojo missed touching you already. His eyes shut for a moment and his lips parted, a whine of your name leaving his lips. Now he was making up scenarios in his head, using that picture you posted as inspiration. He could only imagine the kind of sounds and expressions you’d make if he was ever able to fuck you from behind.

He can picture how your eyes would roll back, the way your jaw would drop and you’d moan his name over and over, and even how your ass would feel bouncing off his pelvis every time he thrust into you. Gojo would take any kind of sex from you right now.

Sloppy sex where it’s all just a mess and both of you are completely fucked out, slow sex where he’s deep inside you and whispering in your ear how much he loves you, or even rough sex where he’s fucking you dumb and hearing you whine about how you can’t take it— even though he knows you can.

“S-Shit-,” Gojo moans again, knowing that you can handle him just makes his mind go blank.

Hell, you’d probably tease him if he were to have sex with you now, tell him how he’s not deep enough just to rile him up, order him to fuck you harder, and cum inside you. Gojo’s wrist was getting tired from how hard and fast he began stroking his dick.

He needed you so badly. He could hardly bring himself to a proper orgasm anymore. His eyes open and his free hand reaches for his phone again, this time he does something even more desperate. Gojo went to his voicemails, having one saved from you.

It was a while ago and you were cursing him out for something but his brain was too dazed with arousal to remember. What he wanted to hear was simply you saying his name. His thumb was shaking a bit as he went through the message you left, up until he heard your voice mutter his name.

“Satoru-,” He couldn’t hear anything else after that and his head went back, hand stroking himself even faster as he replayed that second of you voicing his name.

“Mmgh… fuck, n-need you s’bad, sweetheart,” He mumbled out, as if you could hear him. Gojo was releasing his moans and groans more freely now.

He soon looked down at how his hand slid up and down his cock so quickly, the amount of precum that’d come out smothering his length and making it seem like he already came. Gojo whined and even whimpered when he pictured you above him, you rode his dick so well that he’d never be able to forget it.

He vividly recalls how your folds parted around his cock, how eagerly your cunt sucked him in. Shit, speaking of sucking, he wished he got to experience that mouth of yours. 

Geto bragged about it to him before, telling him you knew how to throat cock surprisingly well. How you’d keep your eyes up despite them watering and flicking to the back of your head. The way you felt moaning around his shaft-, Gojo was losing it.

He had dropped his phone to the side again and his free hand went to his bedsheets, knuckles turning white as his fingers curled into them. His cock ached in his hand, tip twitching as he started to cum mid-stroke. 

He didn’t stop though, whimpering out your name so softly as his dick remained hard and he started overstimulating himself.

“Oh shit-,” Gojo moaned into the air, “F-Fuck, fuck… god-,” He tossed his head back again and the wet sounds of him jerking off grew even louder and messier as he spread his cum all over his cock.

You had him this much of a mess. He got this horny because of you. Gojo doesn’t know if he’s ever feined for sex from a specific person this badly in his life. He’d take anything from you, even a text from you right now would help him.

He ended up laying back as he kept stroking himself, recalling the smallest moments with you to get himself off. For example, when you had sex with Suguru, he remembers how you moaned and how loud everything was. He remembers the sound of you creaming around his best friend.

Gojo’s member was twitching again while he remembered how loudly the slap of your skin to his best friend’s was. His hand squeezes around his cock and he chokes as he recalls you riding him in a similar way. His dick had just slipped in and out of you so nicely, so perfectly, he wanted to feel that again.

Then Gojo could only imagine what you were like with other guys, what things you did with them, and how you looked doing so. 

He cums yet again at the thought and wonders if you knew the things you did to his body. His orgasm was fine but he swore it’d be better if you were here.

Gojo’s hand eventually came to a stop and he relaxed himself, his cock softening as he huffed out heavy pants. How the hell was he ever going to function properly without you?

He knows he has to but it’d be hard. Did he really just let you go? He could’ve kept blackmailing you…

No. You’d hate that. You’d probably cry. Yeah, Gojo didn’t like thinking about that again. Seeing you cry and even once hearing you cry over the phone still haunted him.

He just finished jerking off to you and now all he can think about is the shit he put you through. But hey, at least it’s over now, right? At least you’re happy.

And safe.

That’s all he cares about at the end of the day. Gojo’s heart will heal. He’ll move on eventually. He’ll go back to normal sooner or later.

Right?

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Wrong. Within the next hour, Gojo was jerking off again.

He had a problem at this point because he was standing beside his bed with a picture of you on his phone as he got off to it. These acts of his just continued.

The slightest thought of you for some reason made his cock twitch back to life. Was he in heat or something? It’s like his body was craving you today more than ever and he didn’t know why.

Sessions of getting off to different pictures and thoughts of you went on and on up until the sound of Geto calling Gojo’s name was heard.

By that point, Gojo was sweating and he had to rush around his bedroom to clean himself off before responding to his roommate.

“Uh, g-gimme’ a sec’,” Gojo huffed.

Even from outside his room, Geto knew what had been going on. After all, it wasn’t the first time he came home to Gojo thirsting after you. Hell, there was a time Geto walked by the bathroom and heard Gojo moan your name.

He knew his white-haired friend had a problem but he never really knew just how bad it was. Or at least, he didn’t know Gojo was simply obsessed with you.

“Satoru, you can’t keep doing this man,” Geto sighed out to his friend.

They hadn’t even laid eyes on one another and Geto already knew what was taking Gojo so long to come out.

After a minute or two, Gojo emerges from his room. Geto had to blink a few times at the sight of his best friend because he was simply a mess.

His hair was disheveled, his eyes were low, heavy pants leaving his lips, the shirt he clearly just put on already had sweat on it, and overall Gojo looked like he just run a marathon.

“Can’t keep doing what?” Gojo questioned casually.

Geto gave the man a blank stare as if to say he’s not dumb and he knew his best friend better than anyone but, afterward, he simply rolled his eyes, “Never mind.” He hums before turning away and heading toward their shared kitchen.

Gojo carefully followed behind his friend as he tried to clear his thoughts of you, “What do you mean never mind? I can’t keep doing what?”

“Jerking off to a woman who’s in love with someone else,” Geto says bluntly.

There’s a slight pang in Gojo’s chest but he ignores it as they both enter the kitchen, “I wasn’t-“

“Satoru, as soon as I walked in here, it smelt like dick…” He grumbles, his face twisting up in slight disgust.

“I-,” Gojo blinks and tilts his head innocently, “How do you know what dick smells like?”

Geto turns and looks at his friend with a blank stare, “I have one, idiot.”

“Okay but-“

“Enough, Satoru.” Geto says sternly, “I know what you were doing in there and there’s no need to deny it.”

“Right…” Gojo’s lips purse together as he goes to take a seat at the island in the middle of their kitchen.

“And I actually ran into your nut material earlier today.” The raven-haired male suddenly says before opening the fridge.

Gojo scoffs, “Nut material? Please don’t call her that.”

Geto snickers at his own comment, “That’s what you treat her like.”

Gojo frowns, “I do not-“

“Saw her with Choso, by the way.” Geto interrupts as he swipes a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Oh.” Gojo chirps. Then his eyes go wide, “Oh?!”

“Yeah, oh.” He hums.

“How uh,” Gojo swallows hard. He can only imagine what it was like for you to be in the same area as Geto and Choso at the same time, “How did that go?”

“Oh I started an argument.” Geto shrugs before shutting the fridge and opening his water casually.

Gojo’s face twists up, “You what? Why would you do that? And how?”

“Brought up Sukuna just to test the waters, turns out she doesn’t know much about him aaaand Choso was obviously unaware that she slept with him.” Geto snickers a bit as he recalls how it went down.

“Y-You… You could’ve fucked everything up for her!” Gojo suddenly shouts.

His roommate doesn’t seem to get why that’s a bad thing, “Wouldn’t that have worked out in your favor?”

“No, no the fuck it wouldn’t have.” Gojo spits.

“And why not?”

“Because-,” Gojo lets out a heavy sigh, “The only reason she fucked Sukuna is because of me so who do you think she would’ve started hating again?”

Geto nods, thinking that his friend has made a fair point before he comments, “But at least she would’ve come back to you.”

“Yeah, come back to me hurting and pissed off.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Suguru, I don't want her to be with me, I want her to be happy,” Gojo explains.

His friend raises a brow at him, “Your actions say otherwise.”

“How?”

“When she left on Christmas you went in your room and cried the rest of the night.” He recalls.

Gojo scoffs, “I-“

“You don’t go a day without talking about her.” Geto continues.

“Suguru-“

“You’ve been talking about this woman for like three years now,” He reminds the man, “I’m not sure happiness is what you want for her. I think you just want her.”

Gojo stares for a long moment before looking away, “Well I can’t have her.”

“Why not?”

“Because I blackmailed her?” He says.

Geto tilts his head, “So?”

“What do you mean so?”

“Did she not forgive you?”

“Well she did but-“

“Then why couldn’t she have been with you?”

Gojo lets out a groan, “Because that’s fucked up, Suguru.”

“I think we established that a long time ago.” Geto scoffs, “Who cares if it’s fucked up? You pushed her away from you when she wanted to be fucked up with you.”

“She didn’t. She hated me and hated loving me even more.”

“And she has every right to but you’re missing the most important thing here; she loved you.”

“She shouldn’t have.”

“But she did.”

“Okay well, I can’t make her happy.” Gojo results in saying as he shrugs.

Geto bats his eyelashes at the man in confusion, “Why not?”

“Because I just can’t.”

“I don’t get you, y’know. You can’t even tell me what’s going on and I’m your best friend?”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” Gojo dismisses his question entirely, “The list is over and she’s happy.”

“Is she?” Geto challenges.

“Yes, yes she is.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I just do.”

Geto blinks, “That makes no sense-“

“Suguru, she’s happy now. Alright? Just leave it alone.” Gojo sighs.

The two get quiet after that. Geto moves to sip from his water and Gojo simply sits there with a tense expression.

After a while of silence, Geto just begins to explain how the entire cafe situation went from start to finish. He tells Gojo how he basically spilled the necessary info in order to give you the opportunity to tell Choso the truth.

Gojo asks why exactly he did that and Geto just tells him that he was right, you did seem happy but he knew that happiness wouldn’t last if the things you’d been doing never came to light. Again, Gojo gets upset and the two even argue about it.

That only results in Geto telling Gojo how you and Choso worked it all out anyway because when he left, your car was still there but Choso’s wasn’t.

Gojo couldn’t believe his best friend, even though the man was trying to help you, things could’ve gone so much worse for you. And knowing that made Gojo anxious because his best friend said that either way— Gojo would win.

If things went bad between you and Choso, you would’ve come back to Gojo without a doubt. But, since things went fine, Gojo still got what he wanted, which is you being happy.

So, Geto basically explains that what he caused was a win-win situation for his roommate who he knows cares oh so deeply about you.

Given that, by the end of their conversation, Gojo is still bothered by the chance of things almost going south for you but, he’s still thankful to his best friend to some extent. It’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened after all…

Thus resulting in Gojo back in his bedroom later that night, staring at your contact and wondering if he should call you. He didn’t want to ruin anything of course, he simply wanted to get info from you on how things went.

He knows you ended up leaving with Choso but that doesn’t tell him everything else that happened. Then again, Gojo is supposed to see you again to burn that cursed journal of yours so, he shuts his phone off and decides to simply wait until then.

He’ll learn everything when he sees you again and hopefully… Hopefully Gojo will be able to let you go. There’s too much guilt inside him to hold onto you any longer so he sees the burning of that journal as the end of a dark era for him.

That’ll be the end of his story with you, right?

Yeah, Gojo grins to himself, he thinks he can live with that.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

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tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[violet-butterflies]

❥︎ yandere! Dilf

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ drugging, stalking, delusional, doing things without consent ( male yandere! oc x female reader ) Click to see part 2 !

It was a sunny afternoon when yandere! dilf finally finished unloading his and his son's stuff into their new home. Due to work and terrible memories from his past marriage, he moved into a different town with his son to start a new life. He was just beginning to unpack everything when someone knocked on his door.

"Hi! I'm your neighbor! I noticed that you were spending the whole day just unloading stuff so I decided to make you and your son some lemonade!"

The voice came from a woman who had a jug of lemonade on a tray with a couple of glass cups to pour the citrus drink into. Yandere! dilf couldn't help but smile at the offer as his muscular hands take the tray from your hands as he sent a pearly white smile their way.

"Thanks! I really appreciate it. I'm yandere! dilf by the way," he introduced himself while his son hides behind his leg "and this is my son."

"I'm (y/n)! Well then, I'll see you around neighbor!" (y/n) then disappeared back into their house which was right beside his. At first, yandere! dilf thought that he liked them because of their kind gift but it was only going to escalate from there.

It really surprised yandere! dilf a few days when he met (y/n) again only in the most unexpected place. He was picking his son up from kindergarten when he realized that you were there, playing with his son.

"(y/n)? What are you doing here?"

"Oh! This is really such a coincidence! I happen to be your son's kindergarten teacher!" she explained with a bright smile on her face as his son came rushing to hug him.

"I was only playing with him since all the kids left already and I didn't want him to be alone for too long"

Yandere! dilf felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"I'm really sorry about that. I've just been swamped with work and before I knew it, I was 2 hours late to pick him up."

You sent the muscular man a sympathetic smile.

"No, I completely understand... Does this mean that he's with babysitters most of the time?"

"That's what My plan is but well... it seems like I'm finding difficulty finding any babysitters in this neighborhood"

"If you'd like, I can babysit your son on the weekends? I happen to need some extra money but, don't worry, I won't charge a crazy amount. We're neighbors after all," she offered.

Ever since (y/n) offered yandere! dilf to be his son's babysitter, he only began seeing more and more of you inside his house. Yandere! dilf only expected you to take care of his son but you always seemed to go above and beyond. Sometimes, if the house was messy you'd try to clean it as best you could. Or maybe when you knew that he'll be home late, you'd prepare a simple dinner for both his son and him.

"Don't worry about it! Being a single parent must be really hard so I'll try to help you as best as I can!" That was always the kind of answer you would give when yandere! dilf feels bad for having you do all the housework.

Slowly though, yandere! dilf can't help but feel like (y/n) was acting just like a stay-at-home wife for him and he liked it. He can't help but daydream of situations where you were actually his wife. Situations where he was sharing a bed with you or taking you out on dates or sometimes to the extent of either their marriage or what their future children would look like.

Yandere! dilf might not look like it but, he was completely smitten. He was scared however of you finding out that he had a fat massive crush on you since he was at least 7 years older than you. This crush caused him to be obsessive and overprotective of you.

"What if she finds someone better? What if she is seeing someone?" Those were the questions that always made him have a small panic attack. He can't afford to lose someone so perfect; someone, who proved herself to be the perfect wife for him.

So, yandere! dilf would set up cameras in his house and ask you to babysit all the time. This would mean that he could always see you playing with his son through his phone and it always makes his heart swell with joy. He loved seeing how well you were getting along with the most precious little human in his world which only boosts the idea of how you were the only perfect person to be his son's mother and his wife. Not only that, but to take it one step further, he loved to buy you some treats or drinks when he gets back from work. The only catch is that they were drugged so you'd always end up falling asleep in yandere! dilf's house. (Y/n) never found it too odd though since you always connected it to you being too exhausted by playing with yandere! dilf's son all day.

(Y/n) falling asleep in his house was a big win for yandere! dilf too. The drugs that he used would make (y/n) fall into such a deep sleep it would actually be impossible to wake you up. This would mean that he can take as many pictures as he can and make you sleep on the bed with him before he has to move you to a spare room before you wake up to avoid suspicion. He loves it when he gets to snuggle your smaller body on his bed; a bigger plus if his son decides to join in. It was as if you three were already a picture-perfect family that yandere!dilf always dreamed of. His phone gallery is now filled to the brim with pictures of his son and you. His phone wallpaper is (y/n), there was a group picture of (y/n), his son and him set as his computer wallpaper, and there was a picture of (y/n) and his son in his wallet; acting like the perfect family he always dreamed of.

"Oh, good morning (y/n)! You fell asleep here again. Don't worry about it though! Here I made us all breakfast!"