#I wasn’t trying to be. I was trying to make my own point. and sorta point out how she’s not always right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stardewrotsession · 3 days

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Note: I have a few new drafts in the works right now but it’s taking longer than expected to get them out. So for now, here’s my takes on our favorite bachelors. Some controversial, some not.

Personal Headcanons (and Opinions) I have about the Bachelors

Sam:

- So before I threw him under the “golden retriever” skater boy trope and moved on. Yeah he definitely comes off as it at first, HOWEVER.

- I like to think Sam’s hella observant when he wants to be. Sorta like a “selective observer” if you will.

- I mean, his mom seems to wish to run away from the family at times, and his dad’s off at war. Taking care of Vincent and trying his best to be there when his dad wasn’t makes you pick up a bunch of stuff along the way.

- And I think he’s observant enough to notice that Jodi doesn’t really like where’s she’s at in her life.

- He’s a very caring person, I think to the point where he wouldn’t really mind if he gets hurt from it.

- You have to do something really bad for him to hate you or for him to not care, honestly.

- He loves his family, so he’ll take care of Vincent when his dad’s away, or he’ll begrudgingly get a job because his mom told him to.

- That’s not to say he’s grown though. I full on believe his mom baby’s the hell outta him.

- She seems like a very controlling mom with how she acted after Sam dropped the egg on the floor, but she seems like she needs to done her way. Can you tell I don’t like Jodi very much?

- I think once Sam gets married to you and moves out, he takes on a lot more responsibility and learns how to take care of himself more. While still having that “kid at heart” mindset with his hobbies.

Sebastian:

- So, I’m not gonna lie, I was one of the girlies that dismissed Sebastian as the resident emo boy at first.

- But now, I think he’s, shocker, more complicated than that.

- So I think Demetrius definitely has a whole favoritism complex going on between Maru and Sebastian, which is nothing new.

- I think it leads Demetrius to spit out verbal abuse, and heavy on verbal cause I don’t think Demetrius is the type to physically abuse, to Sebastian whenever he doesn’t like what he’s doing.

- But, I actually think Sebastian and Maru find ways to be friendly or decent with each other, despite everything that’s happened.

- And I really don’t think Robin’s being dismissive about the whole situation either, I really do think she’s trying her best to get the two to ease up with each other.

- I mean, there’s books in her room about stepdads and second families, I think she’s making an attempt.

- But for Sebastian sometimes it isn’t good enough, making him feel like he’s trapped and that he wants to leave this town.

- I think when you marry him, and he ends up staying in Pelican Town, that’s not crushing his dream.

- I truly believe he just wanted to get away from his family, from Demetrius’ constant complaining and comparisons and favoritism.

- But he still has friends here, Sam and Abigail. And you.

- I think now that he’s moved out, he feels more at peace, spending time with someone he loves and still being able to hang out with friends.

Harvey:

- So, we know Harvey’s hobbies, his job as a doctor, and that he comes off as really shy.

- But he actually comes off as really closed off when you first meet him.

- It’s almost as if he’s straight away drawing a boundary saying, “Oh this is the new farmer. Okay, strictly doctor, patient relationship.”

- But as you start hanging out with him more, his facade starts to break a little.

- He opens up more, about experiences, hobbies, his past.

- And personally? I think he has a huge past with mental health issues.

- Like he relates to Shane when he talks about mental health and getting him a therapist. That could be just a doctor thing, but I think Harvey’s had his own struggles. Even if they were different.

- Out of everyone in Pelican Town (other than Shane) I think Harvey definitely has a therapist.

- Although he still mentions having patients’ lives in his hand, I’m sure he was completely broken about it the first time it happened.

- Not to mention that he had to overcome the fact that he wasn’t going to get his dream job.

- He had to settle, and I think talking to a therapist helps tremendously with not only acknowledging that, but full on accepting it, both the good and bad.

- Harvey is a caring guy, and even if he still has extreme fears and insecurities, he’s willing to overcome them if he thinks it’ll make him a better person. If it’ll give him a better life.

- So the fact that he overcomes his fear of heights for you means he cares a lot about you, and his life with you.

Alex:

- So, my opinion of Alex changes as his heart events go on.

- So for zero hearts, I full on believe he’s an ass to girls. Like that cliche popular sporty guy that has a big ego.

- If he doesn’t know you and he sees you doing something weird, I bet you he’ll judge super hard.

- I think he’s the type to talk first, think later.

- And not in a sense like Sam where he just kinda… keeps talking. But he’ll say stupid remarks like “Wanna go to the beach? Do you have a bikini?” Or “Did you get new pants?”

- Why are you looking at the farmer’s pants Alex?

- Anyways towards guys I don’t think he’d be that different, only he’d talk about girls to you.

- I wholeheartedly believe George is kinda homophobic, but Evelyn’s like “Love who you love, you don’t live long enough to not.”

- So Alex at first would have George’s beliefs. Cause the guy kinda raised Alex, he’s the only father figure he really knew and liked.

- But as time goes on Alex would realize “Hey I’m spending a lot more time with the farmer now.”

- Like he looks forward to seeing you everyday.

- And I think you influence him, whether you’re a girl or a guy.

- You open his eyes, making him think along the lines of “Maybe I shouldn’t judge so much. Something just feels right when I’m with them.”

Shane

- So I think we’ve been knowing how shitty he was in the beginning, before having any hearts with him.

- He’s closed off, depressed, doubting his life choices.

- The farmer literally has to push their way into his heart for him to actually notice and be nice to you.

- So I’ll spend more time focusing on after his heart events, since a lot of people are on the same page about his struggles with alcoholism.

- So like a lotta other people, I think Shane has a great friendship arc, but as a marriage candidate all of that development gets kinda nerfed.

- After everything that happens, he becomes VERY dependent on the farmer.

- Probably to the point where it’s unhealthy

- Like if he heard that you’ve passed out in there mines or something he’d start freaking out, not knowing what else to do if you were suddenly gone.

- But, he’s also one of the only bachelors confirmed to be seeing a therapist, so even if the farmer slowly stops talking to him, he will still be in a better spot than he was in his 6 heart event.

- In the end, he’s very thankful for you coming into his life.

- Just, try not to let him depend on you too much, okay?

Elliot

- Same with Alex, my opinion and my headcanons of Elliot change depending on how many hearts I have with him.

- But low key I find him very out there when below 4 hearts.

- He has a different kind of ego than Alex, but it does still come off as “I’m better than you” kind of ego.

- For example, when he says he wishes he could “Throw it all away and become a farmer like you”.

- What’s that supposed to mean Elliot?

- Only I don’t think he realizes it, I think at this time he’s more closed minded and never really thought of people being content and success in different ways.

- He does give Wattpad vibes…

- By the way he treats Gus too in his 2 heart event?? Yeah I’m not sure if that seems to change that much lol.

- However as you get to know him more, he realizes how much time and work you put into your farm, and then, starts thinking about how everyone else lives their life.

- I think even as a writer, the dude doesn’t really understand people think differently until you show him.

- Which is why I think that’s one of the reasons why he’s had writer’s block for a while.

- Yeah give him a pencil and paper and he’ll go at it, he’ll write some beautiful poetry and short stories.

- But throw in a consistent protagonist that isn’t like him, and I think he’d struggle big time before he met you.

- After you two become friends, or even after you start dating, he’ll definitely have a different perspective on his art and on other people.

- It’s like you change his perspective on life. And it may not happen overnight, but I truly believe it does happen, and you make him a better person because of it.

#stardew valley #stardew valley bachelors #stardew headcanon #stardew #sdv sam #sdv alex #sdv harvey #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #stardew valley headcanons #sdv elliot

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devourable · 7 months

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your first time • yanderes x reader, part one

nsfw, minors and ageless dni ;; smut (duh), virgin top x bottom gn reader, various kinks that will be tagged per character.

ft. abraham (yandere church boy), sterling (yandere prodigy), gene (yandere hacker), tobias and sebastian (yandere best friends), and mykolas (yandere monster)

this part will just be the guys (excluding the delinquents)! i wanted to put most of my polyamorous groups as well as the girls and enbies in part two. decided last minute to change it a bit and make it sort of ambiguous as to if the reader is a virgin or not. regardless!

thanks again for 2k 🫶

the church boy — abraham atkins ;; dacryphilia, elements of sizeplay, mentions of religion

abraham thought his first time would be well into the future, after he’d gotten married at his church and whisked off to start his own family like his father before him. it was just a part of life to him, not something to really care about or look forward to; but it was supposed to happen that way. but abe… he just couldn’t resist you!

he knew he shouldve stopped you the moment you had found yourself on his lap, pinning him to his bed after what was supposed to be an sleepover had gone completely off course. and he should’ve stopped you when you got your tongue in his mouth, grinded on him, getting him hard for practically the first time in his life. he should’ve stopped things before they went too far — but he couldn’t stop you. or himself, after he started to clumsily hump you back, his hands finding and delicately groping your ass in an attempt to figure out how he could fit against you best. abe has such an innocent hunger about him, he so desperately wants more — more what, exactly? he doesn't really know. you definitely end up having to take lead because he wholeheartedly doesn't know what he's doing.

but once you coax him out of his nerves and a bit of trial and error (he absolutely wouldn't have fit in you dry; and even after you taught him how to work you open and got his dick wet enough, it was still a tight fit!), you finally, finally get him inside you. and abe, poor abe didn't even know what hit him. despite the tears tumbling down his face purely from how good you felt around him, despite the deep rooted guilt of committing such a sin with the one he loved clawing at his chest, he couldn’t help how brutally he ended up fucking you. he’d pour out all of his pent up desire into you in one night, fucking you through climax after climax till you were seeing stars too.

the prodigy — sterling cygnus ;; overstimulation, risky(ish) setting/exhibitionism

it must all be a game to you, his feelings and this weird dynamic in your relationship. even when the two of you actually start dating (…sorta), he still had it in his head that you were just trying to fuck with him. what other reason could there be to explain how he felt aside from it being your fault?

it was when the two of you were in his dorm that he actually decided to push your boundaries, see what you would let him do before your ‘facade’ finally cracked. but you didn’t stop him when he pinned you against your bed, or when he started kissing you, or when the kiss transformed into an unintentionally heated makeout session. it wasn’t until you had started to pull off your shirt and palm at him through his pants that he started to think that you might’ve actually wanted him.

sterling didn’t really know how it went so far, but he stopped caring when the absolute carnal need to just feel you took over his brain. you must’ve assumed that he didn’t know how to make you feel good because he’s inexperienced, right? no? well, he doesn’t believe you. and to ensure you do, you’re not getting out of that dorm until he’s made you cum on him again, and again, and again. you’d have to think he’s playing with you at some point with how often he switches between fucking you and fingering you — he insists on making you cum both ways as many times as you can handle. he’s rattling the walls and got you sobbing his name so loud that no doubt the entire dorm can hear you (the walls were never that thick to begin with anyway). he relishes in not only knowing he’s completely claimed you, but now all of your colleagues will know too. he doesn’t care how much of a mess he’s making with your insides or how much of him spills out of you, nor does he care if you’re exhausted and sore from the waist down. you’re not done until he’s done with you — and being the overachiever he is, who knows when that’ll be? he’d hate to leave you thinking he’s anything but your number one.

the hacker — gene eliades ;; a lil dubcon-y, filming w/o reader’s knowledge

gene had waited for you to make a move on him first, he really did. he even tried enticing you in his own way, always sitting with his legs open so you could see the very clear outline of his dick through his pants, sitting you on his lap when he was working and keeping a hand on your body at all times. he’d kiss you, tell you how crazy you drove him, anything to give you an idea of what he wanted. but you never took that extra step and it left him wondering if it was because you were toying with him or if you really were that dense. either way, he had had enough, and after one particular day where the need burning in the pit of his stomach just wouldn’t go away, he decided that he wouldn’t wait anymore.

when you tried to slip off of his leg to do something, his arm curled around your waist and pulled you square into his lap, making sure you felt every inch of his erection against your ass. you were so irresponsible, constantly getting him riled up and never doing anything about it. did you even like him at all? regardless of your answer he was already sliding his hands under your clothes, groping your chest with one and working your bottoms down with the other.

it was unceremonious, the way gene bent you over his desk and buried himself up to the hilt in you before you could even voice any potential protests. but the feeling of him hitting all the right spots in you made your mind go blank, unable to do anything but moan his name every time he pulled you back against him. god, he loved hearing the way you whimpered for him, feeling you stretch around him when he fucked you just a bit too hard, the way your hips fit so nicely in his hands.

it was a good thing you were too fucked out to notice the little light next to his webcam aimed down at you. you wouldn’t mind if you did, he assumed — there was nothing wrong with wanting to remember this moment later, was there?

the boys next door — tobias & sebastian ;; double penetration, threesome

the pair had fantasized about losing their virginity to you years before it actually happened. the amount of times they’d gotten each other off with your name falling from their lips was too many to count, but god knows it just wasn’t enough for the two. but they never acted on those feelings, not until they had planned out the day to ensure it would be perfect.

you did find it a bit suspicious that the first time you were all free for the weekend at the same time was on the night that toby’s parents went out for an unplanned vacation, but you easily overlooked it when the pair offered you a sleepover (for old time’s sake!), bribed with promises of your favorite snacks and whatever movies you wanted to watch. you were sandwiched between the two in your best friend’s room, oh so aware of the growing tension but unsure where it was leading to — but then toby suddenly asked to kiss you. and what you assumed would be a playful peck ended with you pinned to the bed with tobias holding your wrists while sebastian made himself comfortable between your legs.

they really like you, and they know you like them too — you wanna be their first, don’t you? be their special someone? that’s what toby’s asking between kisses while seb’s lifting your shirt and sliding a hand down the front of your pants. it wasn’t until you finally gave them the permission they’d waited so long for that the pair allowed themself to really get the night started.

toby was the first to break you in while seb held you in his lap. it was a shame the pair didn’t think to record the moment… the face you made when toby fucked into you was so cute! and the noise you made when seb slid under you to try and squeeze into you alongside toby would play in their minds over and over again. they might’ve pushed you a bit too hard, stretching you well beyond your limit without even letting you catch your breath. they just couldn’t resist! you were clamping down on them, sucking them both in like you didn’t wanna let them go. it felt so good to make you cum.

the two were still up long after you had passed out, ogling your ruined state with an undeniable urge to fuck you up even more. they saw it like a badge of honor, proof that you’d always be theirs. the two would let you rest for the time being, but don’t worry — they still had an entire weekend with you ahead, and they didn’t plan on letting you step foot outside that house till their time was up.

the beast — mykolas ;; teratophilia (duh), size difference, outercourse/thighfucking

mykolas really, really didn’t want to hurt you. he was well aware of how big he was, especially compared to you — if you got hurt because he couldn’t control himself, he wouldn’t know what to do!

all of those thoughts were completely disregarded when he started rutting, though. the poor monster couldn’t think straight with his hormones running amok, and you being you — so soft, so small, so vulnerable, it was like you were designed to torture him through the season. you’d very quickly catch on to what was happening to your monstrous partner, considering you’d often be woken up by him grinding up against your back or stomach in a desperate bid to try and relieve the borderline painfully throbbing cock that was bothering him more and more these days. and though he’d never make his needs known vocally, you could just tell — that sad, pleading look he’d give you every time you looked at his pitiful form was just begging you to take care of him.

you knew for certain that you couldn’t just fuck him in his current state. his cock practically matched the length of your torso! and with how reckless his hormones were making him, the possibility of him ‘accidentally’ making you take more than you could handle was too high, even if you did try to take control. so to work around this problem, you opted to get a bit creative with your methods.

mykolas didn’t quite understand what was going on at first when you bent over in front of him, pants pulled down to your knees. but when you guided him between your legs and clamped your thighs around his length, you could tell the switch in his brain had flipped and he completely allowed instinct to take over. you had no clue just how good it’d feel when mykolas’s hard, wet cock rutted against you relentlessly until he was gripping your waist and pulling you against him, fucking your thighs like you were his living fleshlight. but fuck, the way he managed to slide against every sensitive spot he had access to despite his carnal state was nearly driving you insane. and mykolas delighted in the way you clawed at the ground and mewled for him, your voice so pretty when you stammered out his name. it didn’t take long for either of you to cum at that rate.

despite the mess mykolas made of your thighs and stomach, though, he wouldn’t let you get off him. he’d been pent up for so long, repressing his desire to mate with you, he couldn’t just stop there! so he went again, and again, humping you in any position he could think of, pinning you down, thoroughly wrecking you as best as he could. you were gonna be in for a rough mating season now that mykie knew how to relieve himself with you — but you didn’t mind, he assumed. you were the one that showed him how to feel better, after all.

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jishyucks · 1 month

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⋆.˚ on a whim — ldh ˚.⋆

‣ pairing: haechan x reader

‣ genre: friends-to-lovers?, fluff

‣ wc: 1.06k

‣ summary: ❝What if… what if I kissed you?❞; alternatively, you impulsively suggest to be your best friend's first kiss

‣ warnings: I wouldn't say it's steamy at the end but it's like,,, sorta detailed

‣ an: this is bc hyuck in glasses makes me want to do backflips (this is literally self-indulgent)

“I’m almost done with this assignment and then after we can watch a movie, sound good to you?”

You scribbled down a few words, waiting for Donghyuck to respond to your question, but you were returned with a half-assed hum. This catches your attention, mainly because it wasn’t like Donghyuck to be disinterested in a movie. He said once that movie nights were his favourite nights.

“Hyuck?” you shift your attention from your work to your best friend, brows knitting together.

Donghyuck’s lying on your bed, eyes looking straight up to the ceiling with an empty expression. You don’t even think he’s blinking.

“Hyuck.” Your voice is firm, trying to catch his attention. You can’t even see him blinking through his glasses, lips falling into a pout.

“Lee Donghyuck!”

You finally catch his attention, though all he does is turn his head in your direction, “Yeah? Sorry… I zoned out.” He sits up on your bed, crossing his legs underneath him.

“I was saying how I’ll just finish this assignment and then we can go on with movie night,” you repeat, “Are you okay? Still up for it?” Your head tilts to the side and Donghyuck has to look away before you cause his heart to arrest.

“Of course I am, I just…” He bites his bottom lip and blinks at the wheels of your chair.

“Is this about what my friends said earlier?” You frown. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to talk about it because you know your anger issues are going to take over. When Donghyuck fails to give you a reply, you follow the question up, “It is, isn’t it?”

“My feelings are valid,” he retorts stiffly, falling back onto his back, “I know I’m pathetic for not even getting my first fucking kiss at this age but—”

“You’re not pathetic, Hyuck,” you interrupt, angry at how he was putting himself down for something so ridiculous, “Don’t say that. Everyone lives life at their own pace.” You throw a soft punch at his knee and he yelps despite it not hurting.

“I know, you’ve told me that before, but when it’s pointed out, I see why it’s stupid,” he goes on, “Like not one person has brought themselves to want to kiss me? How pathetic is that?”

Trains of thought begin running through your head and you let the question hang in the air for too long. Far too long that this makes Donghyuck nervous, “You could at least say that it is pathetic instead of not saying any–”

“What if… what if I kissed you?”

Donghyuck shoots up, “What?”

“What if I kissed you.” You say more confidently, “Then you could say that you kissed someone.”

Donghyuck’s chewing on his lip now, unsure whether or not this would be a good idea, “You’d do that?... Would that even count?”

“I’ll count it if you do…” You say, “Besides, if you’re okay with it, and I’m okay with it, it counts.” Your legs scooches your chair closer to Donghyuck, almost as if anticipating his answer.

If Donghyuck was being honest, he liked the idea. It’s not like he’s been waiting for this for the longest time, no… he just thought it was a good idea. And it was you he was going to kiss for god’s sake. He trusted you, he cared about you, he wouldn’t mind if his first kiss was you. Hell, he wanted his first kiss to be you, “Okay.”

You scoot closer so that your knees touch his, “Go whenever you’re ready.”

“O-okay,” Donghyuck’s taken aback by how straight forward you’re being. He nods once and shifts forward in place, leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours, “Okay, I’ll do it now.”

You can feel his warm breath on your face and it somehow sends you shivers down your neck. The proximity between the two of you is small. It felt like he was doing it on purpose to tease you and you were tempted to be the one who closed the gap between the two of you.

Donghyuck comes closer and you’re ready to close your eyes, but then he pulls away, “Shit, s-sorry.” He apologizes, “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?” A frown grows on his lips, worried that he was actually making it awkward between the two of you, just because of a kiss, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You nod, “I’m the one who suggested it, Hyuck.”

He huffs and nods again. He starts closing in on you. His hands instinctively reach up to grab your face, and at that point you know he’s going to commit to it. Just like earlier, you feel his breath tickle your lips, and before you know it, Donghyuck’s plush lips are pressed up against yours.

Donghyuck holds back a gasp, holding his lips to yours. For a moment, he’s afraid he’s doing it wrong, unsure whether or not he’s moving his lips correctly, but the second you begin kissing back, hands finding the back of his neck in hopes of finding something to hold onto, a sense of relief washes over him.

He pulls away to breathe before pushing his mouth back onto yours. The kiss was deep, that was for sure, something he didn’t expect to happen. When you suggested a kiss, he thought you meant something along the lines of a ‘one-two’ and done, not this. But he didn’t mind it. And it seemed like you didn’t either.

In fact, he likes the feeling. There’s a warm feeling growing in his chest the longer the kiss lasts and he couldn’t get enough of it.

So this was why people did it so often. It felt good.

Donghyuck’s arms slither around your figure, bringing his hands to your back. Then he pulls you closer. And again, you don’t mind.

And just as he feels your tongue tapping gently on his lips to let him in, Donghyuck feels something sharp scratch the bridge of his nose and it doesn’t take him long to realize that his glasses were getting in the way of everything.

He pulls back, groaning, out of breath before he rips them off of his face—because, no, he doesn’t care if he can’t see your face. All he wants to do is kiss you.

“Fuck it,” he mutters before he smashes his lips back onto yours.

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nope-body · 1 year

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#was talking to a friend about how when I start feeling too safe it scares me #which is why in some twisted way it’s good that my roommate is a little bit like my parents because I never feel fully safe #and I know that we have different communication styles and that I sometimes don’t pick up on social cues for when I should #let go of a topic and stuff like that #but at the beginning of the year we did make a roommate agreement and I was very clear that if you’re angry with me please calm down then #tell me and if I’m bothering you just tell me before it escalates because I will do my best to not be like that but I not perfect #and I can’t handle being yelled at #my roommate already gets frustrated with things fairly frequently and yells about them to me but it wasn’t at me and I could deal #pushed her too far today though. honestly surprised it took this long #it was a dumb joke because I thought her metaphor was bad and then she kept trying to say I just didn’t get it but I did. I just thought it #was ridiculous. so neither of us let it go and she ended up yelling at me for being irritating #I wasn’t trying to be. I was trying to make my own point. and sorta point out how she’s not always right #bad idea. I should have known

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wintersera · 9 months

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forever mine || alpha!karina x omega!reader

notes: AGAIN sorry for the delay anon but here’s the request!! fun fact i wrote this while listening to the super mario galaxy ost 😭

cw: OMEGAVERSE, alpha karina, omega reader (obvs), maybe rina is a little possessive, use of toys, biting, scratching, g!p rina, creampie, breeding kink

wc 2.2k

your alpha girlfriend was so sweet and caring, the best alpha you could ever wish for. unlike other alphas, she was never too aggressive with you, rather, she was too careful with you- biologically she should’ve been treating you like you were her toy for breeding, but i guess not. nonetheless she was still a great alpha girlfriend.

—

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK

first of september- the first ever day since you’ve forgotten to buy your heat suppressants since you started dating jimin. your stomach drops as your pheromones begin to waft around your workplace filled with pure blooded alphas.

shit shit shit i’m dead, oh i’m screwed what do i do? ohhh god what do i do?

it was sorta stupid. yeah- an undercover omega in a job filled to the brim with hardworking alphas. you were doing a great job of convincing everyone that you were just a simple beta. that’s how you landed your job in the first place, but now because of this one stupid mistake, you were bound to lose your job.

“guys…” head manager, a very big alpha man in your words, spoke up. his head tilting and nostrils flaring as he’s looking around the office, confusion on his sharp features “…are you smelling that?” with the attention drawn on your floral scent, you begin to panic as the other alphas begin sniffing around too.

ough,, how do you get outta this situation fast “i think i’ll head out early guys. whoever has their heat is driving me insane it might trigger my rut” how bad of a lie was that. it didn’t matter anyways, dashing out the room with your blazer and bag in, hand rummaging around your trouser pockets as soon as you make it out of the building.

“jesus christ jimin pick up please, please” walking, no- sprinting to the direction of your apartment. you knew your heat was gonna hit you badly. you’ve been taking suppressants for years so having a full blown pheromone disaster for the first time in years was going to be crazy. people were looking at you like you were crazy, but you’d rather have many people look at you weird than have your scent imprinted on the damn streets.

“what’s up?” thank the lord, she answered her phone just in time.

fumbling for your keys trying to shove it into the door lock, you sigh with a heavy breath “uh,, um jimin i’m going into heat- i already feel funny” unlocking the door, you fling yourself into the apartment, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

“what do you mean going into heat? did you not,,, oh well shit okay give me a few minutes” hanging up the call.

not so much to your surprise, slick was coating your cunt like crazy. to the point where it started to go through your trousers and down your legs. the need you had for your girlfriend was so unbearable.

in a haze, you wobbled to your shared bedroom and grabbed one of her used shirts. her clothes smelt so good, the lingering scent dripping from her clothes was enough to make you keel over and plop onto the bed. you felt yourself getting slicker, your needy cunt needing your alpha to come over and fuck you silly was growing stronger each second she wasn’t in the room with you.

taking matters into your own hands because you couldn’t wait any longer, the feeling of your heat coiling in your stomach was too much. your brain was giving into your biological urges and you needed to get off now or you’d suffer. grabbing a pile of jimin's clothes and making somewhat of a nest on the bed, you surround yourself with the scent of freshly ground coffee. quickly taking off every single piece of clothing, getting right back up to open the box of toys you kept just in case a moment like this ever happened- searching for anything, any toy, that could satisfy you while you wait for your alpha.

whereas jimin on the other hand was worried sick. throughout your two year relationship with her she’d never seen you in a proper heat. like yeah, the heat suppressants and scent blockers helped quite a lot so you were never heavily affected by the symptoms. of course omegas would usually never get this horrible desire to mate this early into their heat, but unfortunately for you, you did have this raging urge to mate so early.

you weren’t so very conscious, you were starting to feel groggy, a feverish high temperature when you touch your head began to appear. this heat was kicking you in the ass and you couldn’t take it anymore- taking the vibrator in your hands and placing it on the highest setting, your hands make there way all the way down to your throbbing clit “a-ah, hnnng jimin come quick…”

so so desperate for her, you pick up your phone hoping that she would answer your calls “please- please pick up jimin”

“i’m almost home baby, do you need something or…”

“just hurry up i’m begging you to come home pleaseee” and who was she to deny your request. stepping on the gas faster knowing that her precious little omega was in need of her alphas presence. she could here your desperation deep within your voice.

“don’t worry i’m about to park soon, just wait for me okay” jimin, knowing how she acted during your very suppressed heats, believed that she could never submit to her instincts since she has never done so when it came to you. that quickly changed as she opened the door, the scent of roses attacking her as she stepped inside. it was a thick scent, it stuck to everywhere and it didn't help that you couldn’t open the windows in time, now your walls were coated in this thick floral scent.

it took jimin a lot of willpower not to give into her urges right there. she felt her rut kicking in and it made her growl in discomfort. never feeling this way in a while, because she took rut suppressants since the two of you started dating, she started growing hazy much like you did. she was a pure blooded alpha which didn’t help either, the intensity of your heat did rounds on her and she had strongest urge to mark you up.

you could hear her footsteps grow louder and louder, her low growls could be heard with the door still shut. quite impressive. she didn’t even say anything when entering, taking off her work clothes only leaving just her boxers on, the line of her hard cock showing through made you whimper out loud. your slick was practically drooling out from your pussy.

in her eyes you were nothing more than a snack to be devoured. her red eyes peered down at you like you were some sort of prey, and you must admit that pure blooded alpha jimin was really arousing to watch. pheromones in the room were strong as hell, your thick sweet floral scent mixing with jimin’s freshly scented coffee smell made a delicious combination. the scent alone driving you two mad.

she went to sit on the bed, still peering at you meek little body. with hunter like eyes she stared you down and licked her lips, “sit up omega” obeying your alpha like the good little omega you are, you sit up from the nest of clothes.

she could hear little puffs of air pour out of your lips, stifling a chuckle as she watches you struggle to sit up straight and look at her straight in the eye. hooking you up with ease, jimin had your body pressed up against hers, sliding one of her hands in between your thighs opening them up with a strong grip “you look so needy for me” a second goes by and she’s shoving you back into the pillow.

“fuck” jimin whispered “how do you smell so good” nuzzling into the crook of your neck, “you smell so tempting, fuck, i can’t-“ she gave your thighs a firm squeeze, exhaling shakily “you need to take me right now, i can’t take it anymore. i need to feel your tight cunt around my cock” her voice low and coarse. in a flash she slipped her cock into your dripping heat, mewls threatening to escape your mouth.

if you weren’t too dazed and horny you would’ve been saying how you’ve waited for this exact moment. jimin didn’t spend anytime fucking around with foreplay, she went straight into pounding your slicked up hole with no mercy. everything she did set your body ablaze, her hands were touching every single inch on your body and it felt so fucking good.

like a ravenous animal she attacked your neck, licking, marking, biting your throat all whilst groaning. her animalistic mind wanting to show that you’re her omega and nobody else’s and by that she had to litter you with marks of any kind, purposely rubbing her scent to mark you as her omega.

every thrust made your back arch slightly off the bed, hitting all the spots you never knew could feel good because of how nice she usually fucked you. you felt how fast and precise her movement was, and it was heavenly.

as your back arched closer to hers, she shifted even more closer to you, practically pinning you onto the bed by hooking both of your legs above her broad shoulders. hitting even deeper then she previously did before, you felt the tip of her cock graze your cervix “mmfh, fuck, fuck- my baby feels so fucking good” saying all that while she’s harshly sinking her teeth into your shoulders.

“s’too much,, ah- jimin, g-good” her urges began to flare up, the only thing on her mind was to mark you up for good. like she was oh so desperate to keep you as hers.

pulling her cock out, in between breaths she instructs you “turn around. y/n turn over for me.. need to- need to fill you up“ taking your legs of her shoulders and flipping you over with ease, again with her predatory gaze, she stares right at your exposed ass in which tempted her to completely destroy you until you can’t stand anymore, leaving you in a state of vulnerability so that she can take care of you.

her alpha instincts were indeed controlling her every movement, the loving and caring alpha you knew was gone. all was left was a dominating alpha who wanted to fuck you till you were filled up with her cum, even if that means you’ll bear her pups.

returning back into your needy cunt, she moans even louder, louder than you’d ever heard. “omega- omega fuck, i’ll mark you. you’re mine, mine only. mine,,, shit you’re mine forever” relentlessly pushing your head into the pillows, her thrusts became frantic and desperate- her movement erratic and messy, it made you love her even more. her alpha side was making you wetter and wetter, bedsheets were covered with your slick.

your moans were insanely unholy. you were screaming and clawing onto whatever you could grab hold onto. her dick growing larger than before and that's when the both of you knew that she was about to knot into you. grabbing her arm for moral support, you dig your nails harshly into them leaving a few minor scars.

right now you looked so fucked out. you were crying, drooling everywhere all while you were screaming out her name. jimin took her time to place a generous amount of bites and hickeys all over your back too. you know… for extra measures of course.

“aah fuck, pleasepleaseplease alpha cum- cum in me” you sobbed out.

“bout to- gonna,, augh fuck cumming” one final harsh thrust into your cunt and her knot swelled as she spilled every ounce of cum into your hole. your cunt clamping down on her as well, essentially locking the two of you. whilst she knotted into you, she swiftly leaned to the back of your neck and inserted her teeth. it hurt a lot, the feeling of her sharp canines sent your nerves on fire, but only a second later and it felt almost orgasmic.

finally she had marked you, but now you were stuck like this for a while. her knot being large enough to just be stuck in this position. both of you were lowkey back into consciousness, the alpha side of her dying down a little bit and the subby omega side of you dissipating.

after a couple of minutes of basking in your orgasm, her knot went down eventually. it was just enough so that you could move slightly which inevitably caused her semen to seep out of your cunt.

“aaah~ can’t… believe.. i… marked.. you..” catching her breath through each word she managed to muster up “that means you’re mine.. forever, right?”

aww big dom alpha jimin was gone, but your cute puppy of a girlfriend was back. you turn around with her cock still in you and see her smiling right at you, her big puppy eyes beaming with glee.

“yeah.. forever”

#wintersera #omegaverse smut #aespa smut #g!p aespa #karina smut #aespa x reader smut #aespa karina smut #aespa x fem reader smut #g!p karina #yu jimin x reader smut #karina x fem reader smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #kpop girl group smut #fem!reader

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amentomensmut · 3 months

Text

first time for everything pt2

Drug Dealer! Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 5k

this is part 2 to my fic first time for everything! read the first part here.

Summary: After an unforgettable hookup with your friend Sara’s drug dealer, Mike Schmidt, you go to a college party to try and put a stop to your constant stream of thoughts about it, and more specifically, him. However, when you wind up bumping into the man you had been thinking about non-stop at the party, you can’t help but give in to the one person who started it all.

Warnings: 18+ content, so much banter. Like, so much. Mike is a smug bastard, alcohol consumption, swearing, kissing, dirty talk, use of pet names, fingering, cunnilingus, finger sucking, unprotected sex

Note: we are so back. also i really hope you guys like this omg. (p.s. sorry that this part has no cannabis use in it. I know that’s like kinda the whole point, but with the story i wanted to tell i couldn’t find a place to put it and i didn’t just want to shove it in randomly so i sorta just left it out.)

Like smoke filling up your lungs, Mike Schmidt has infiltrated your mind in every way possible.

Thoughts of him invading every corner and crevice of your brain, making them impossible to shake. To say the least, ever since you had the pleasure of meeting him, your mind has been rather occupied.

His lips on yours, the smoke from his mouth permeating your own, his hands on your body, your skin on his skin—it's all too much, you think. In fact, if you could go back and erase the entire interaction, you would. It’s the only thing you’ve been able to think about, and it’s all Mike Schmidt’s fault.

You wonder if he thinks about you too. You know it’s probably unlikely, but you can’t help but feel like he might. Like he also dreams about it. Like he also yearns for you again. Maybe he gets off thinking about it, like you do. You shake those thoughts away, however, when you come to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t as special to him as it was to you.

"Okay, Y/n, what the fuck?” Sara's voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you.

You whip your head around to see Sara standing behind you. Her arms are crossed against her chest, and her face is painted with a worried expression.

“What?” you respond, confusion evident in your voice.

“You’ve been staring at that wall for 20 minutes.” Sara says it with an accusatory tone, like she caught you doing something you shouldn’t be.

“I’m just thinking.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. I mean, you’re not lying. You were trying to do your homework, and then you started…daydreaming. Thinking. Whatever you want to call it.

“Yeah, I know. Thinking is all you’ve been doing this week. What’s going on?” Sara sighs, and you can see the genuine concern in her face. She sits on your bed next to your desk, trying to meet your eyes. You have a hard time lying to her, and catching her gaze will only make you more vulnerable, so instead, you choose to stare down at your homework.

“This isn’t like you. You’re the most studious person I know, and you can’t even focus enough to finish a couple questions. Tell me what’s going on.” She continues. You weigh your options. You could tell her you fucked her drug dealer. She couldn’t be that mad, right? Or, you could keep it a secret, but continuing to lie to her is the last thing you want to do. You let out a deep breath and just decide to bite the bullet.

“Okay, um, remember when I went to your drug dealer's house last week?” You wearily start. Sara nods her head, signalling for you to continue.

“Well, one thing led to another, and we kinda, sorta had…sex?” The room is silent after your confession, the weight of your words hanging in the air. When you look over at Sara, you expect to see disappointment or anger on her face, but instead, she's looking at you with one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen.

“I knew it!” Sara exclaims, jumping up in a rush of excitement.

“I knew there was a reason that you were practically glowing when you got back from his house!” You groan at her loudness, putting your hands over your face to hide your embarrassment. You should’ve known she wouldn’t have been upset with you; she practically shoves you at any man who gives you some sort of attention in the hopes that you’ll break your introverted habits. “Wait,” she excitedly adds. “Does this mean you can get me a discount?”

“No, Sara, I can’t fucking get you a discount. I haven’t seen him since it happened.” You say, and you try your best to mask the disappointment in your tone. I mean, what did you expect? That he’d come running to you the next day, get down on one knee, and propose? You knew it would most likely be a one time thing, so why were you so upset about it?

“So that’s why you’ve been so out of it this week. Plagued by the thoughts of a good fuck. Trust me, I've been there. ” Sara sighs dramatically, shaking her head like she knows this feeling all too well.

“I don’t know... as cheesy as it sounds, I sort of can’t stop thinking about him? It was so good, and now it’s all I think about.” You admit, and Sara takes her place back on the end of your bed. She takes one of your hands in hers, and she nods her head in an understanding manner.

“You know what you need?” She says, and you shake your head, "No.".

“To get your head out of your chemistry books and go to a goddam party! No wonder you’ve been thinking about him; all you’ve been doing is thinking.” She says, motioning to the copious amounts of school-related papers on your desk.

“Trust me, Y/n. The best sort of remedy for this kind of thing is to just let loose and forget about all your shit for a little while, you know?” As much as you’ve tried to avoid parties and distractions during your college experience, you can’t imagine there’d be much harm in going to one party. Besides, if you can get your mind off of Mike for a few hours and just have some fun, it’ll be worth it.

“Alright. Yeah, I think you’re right.” You say, and Sara jumps up excitedly as she begins to talk about one of her good friends that is throwing a party that night, and that it’ll be the perfect excuse to get away from all stress of exams. You nod along, a smile plastered on your face as you try to match Saras excitement. You’re not quite sure if this “remedy” will work or not; however, you’d just about try anything at this point. And like Sara always says, you’re a hermit, so this will be a good way to break you out of your shell. I mean, the last time Sara told you to do something, it ended up going better than expected, so what’s the worst that could happen?

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“Sara, I feel like I’m going to flash someone.” You say as you pull on the hem of your very mini skirt. The walk to the party wasn’t long, but your bare legs are cold and you’re itching to get warm. You’ve never really worn something as revealing as this, but Sara insisted you wear something from her wardrobe.

“Your skirt isn’t that short; don’t be dramatic.” Sara teases as she leads you towards a house that's booming with both music and people. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. You haven’t been to a party during your time at college, and to be honest, you weren’t ever planning to. Focusing on getting your degree without any distractions was always your goal. An unrealistic goal? Maybe, but it had been working well for you up until a week ago. However, things don’t always go as planned, and now you’re stepping into a house full of sweaty, inebriated bodies and music so loud it makes the entire house shake. The air is thick and humid, and you’d get lost in the house’s dim lighting if it weren’t for Sara’s hand in yours guiding you through the sea of bodies. Your shoes stick to the floor as you walk through the house, and you know alcohol drunkenly spilled from overflowing, cheap solo cups is the culprit. Sara drags you to the kitchen, where all the alcohol is stashed.

“We should do a shot! To commemorate the first party of your college career!” Sara yells over the music, already pouring each of you a shot of tequila. You give a little laugh at Sara’s enthusiasm, and you nod your head in agreement. As you wait for Sara to hand you your drink, you notice just how many people there are. You watch through the kitchen window as someone throws up on the lawn. You wince a little at the sight and at the thought of how much alcohol they probably drank. You briefly wonder if going to this party was even a good idea, but you try to shake away any negative thoughts.

“Babe, you’re thinking too much again.” Sara says, waving her hand in front of your face as she passes you the shot.

“Sorry!” You half-yell, but Sara dismisses your apology with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t be sorry, just have fun!” Sara replies as she effortlessly downs her shot. You also attempt down your tequila; however, it’s not as effortless, and you grimace at the sharp taste of the tequila on your tongue. It takes everything in you to swallow it without gagging, and you wish you had something to chase it with.

“Fuck, that’s awful.” You groan as you pull a face. You don’t typically drink alcohol, and when you do, tequila is certainly not your first choice. Sara laughs and places a hand on your shoulder.

“That’s what makes it good!”

The next hour or so goes by pretty smoothly. You’ve essentially been following Sara around like a lost puppy, accompanying her as she greets her friends, which feels like just about everyone at this party. You watch as Sara effortlessly navigates the room, her laughter ringing out above the chatter and deafening music. As you stand alongside Sara, watching as she converses with a group of people you recognise as being on the school's soccer team, you feel a wave of insecurity wash over you, like an invisible barrier separating you from everyone else. You feel out of place at this party, and in a way you are. You haven’t been to a party in your three years at school, and now you've realised that you barely know anyone around here. You haven’t seen one familiar face, other than Sara, in the past hour and a half since you arrived here. You begin to wonder how different your college experience would be if you just got over your fear of people and parties, and went out like Sara had. You try to dismiss your destructive thoughts, but it’s no use. You feel like somehow everyone knows that you’re not really supposed to be here, and it makes your throat feel dry with anxiety.

“Hey, Sara, I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?” You loudly whisper in her ear, trying not to interrupt the conversation she was currently in. You’re anxiously wanting to get away from the crowd, and your body language shamelessly shows it as you bounce your leg and bite the skin off your lips.

“No, I’m okay,” Sara says, and you watch as her eyes survey your body, her eyebrows knitting together. “Do you need me to come with you?” She bends down to speak in your ear, although her words are slightly slurred, and you softly giggle at the way her alcohol intake has affected her speech.

“No, I’ll be okay.” You assure her as you walk away from the group, giving Sara a little wave as you make your way to the kitchen.

You had intended on getting a drink, but when you got to the kitchen and saw the door to the backyard, your desire to escape the muggy, stale air landed you on the back patio instead. Your lungs thank you for the fresh air as soon as you step outside, and the cool winter breeze feels refreshing on your sweaty skin. There’s still plenty of partygoers outside, but it’s certainly not as packed as it was inside. You watch as people play beer pong on a ping pong table on the lawn, and the sight only solidifies your fear of missing out. The sound of hearty laughter and the smell of weed only make you want to go home more, and you sigh as you push off the patio railing to leave. You turn around to make your way back inside when you see him.

At first, you thought it was your eyes playing tricks on you. Like you had been thinking about him so much that an apparition of him was here to taunt you. Like your thoughts of him for the past week had now turned you delusional. However, his eyes lock with yours, and now you so badly want it to be a hallucination, or your mind playing tricks on you. Dread washes over you and you wish you had never come to this party. You want the ground to swallow you whole when you see him beginning to walk towards you, and for a split second, you consider running away.

You mean for your words to come out nicely; you truly do. However, they don’t come out that way, and instead you say this:

“What the fuck are you doing here?” If your words shock or hurt Mike, he doesn’t show it as he now stands in front of you with that goddamn smirk on his face.

“I have a business to run, Y/n. But you’d know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you?” You’re not sure if you want to kiss or slap him, but you roll your eyes anyway at his smug tone. He gives an unbothered laugh at your attitude and actually, you’d definitely rather slap him right now.

“Your business is selling weed to intoxicated college students?” You retort with a scoff, crossing your arms against your chest like it’s a defence mechanism. You hate that his presence is making you jittery, but you hold your ground, your eyes never veering away from his.

“Funnily enough, they’re my top customers.” Mike smugly says, and you don’t even try to hide the scowl on your face. You squint your eyes at him, trying to read his intentions. He smells like weed and spicy cologne, and it immediately brings you back to his house, and more specifically, his living room. There's a pregnant pause between the two of you, and before you can work up the courage to say something, he speaks again.

“Cute outfit, by the way. Have you dropped the innocent act yet?” He asks, obviously satisfied with his words. He's clearly trying to get under your skin, and you won't let him.

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” You fib, shrugging your shoulders like the question is irrelevant. If he's going to try to tease you about your hookup, you won't feed into it.

“You know, after that night, I don’t think you can really call yourself a good girl. You’d be lying to everyone. You're lying to me right now.”

“Fuck you, Mike.”

“You should come by my house tomorrow. You're probably all out of the weed I sold to you last time you were around, right?” He says nonchalantly, changing the subject. You furrow your eyebrows at the change of conversation, and your stubbornness to let Mike have any satisfaction during this conversation doesn’t falter.

“I don't smoke weed.” You quip.

“Lie all you’d like, Y/n. It doesn’t change the truth.” He says, brushing a stray hair out of your face before walking back into the house without giving you another look.

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Usually people use the phrase “walk of shame” when you’re walking home from a hookup, however, that phrase pretty much sums up how you feel as you walk up Mike Schmidt's driveway.

You’re not sure how you’ve ended up back on Mike Schmidtd’s doorstep again. Maybe it was the satisfying sting of weed going down your throat and into your lungs, or the insatiable hunger for the man who supplied it to you. Either way, the front door is being opened and the man who you’ve been thinking about non stop for the past week is behind it.

“Had a feeling you’d be back.” He says with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you’re high before any weed has even entered your system.

“Don’t cream your pants.” You mutter as you push past him and walk inside. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t know why you were here, you both knew. After Mike left you at the party, you knew you were completely and utterly fucked. That any other attempts of trying to forget him would be worthless. That like a bee to a flower, you’d be back here, in Mike’s house, searching for the one thing you had been denying yourself for the past week.

“So I was right then, you’re all out of weed.” He says as he closes the front door. You take your jacket and scarf off, hanging them on the coat hanger at the door. You face Mike, who's currently leaning against the front door, watching you.

“Can I have a soda?” You ask, and Mike cracks a smile at the familiarity of the situation.

“I would’ve offered, but I wasn’t sure how long you’d be here.” He says, trying to bite back his smile. You follow him to the kitchen, watching as he grabs two cans of soda. Your fingers brush as he hands you the cold can, and you look up at him as he clears his throat.

“So…an eighth again?” He inquires, looking at you over his can of soda as he takes a sip.

“Mike, I’m not here for your goddamn weed.” You laugh. Mike laughs as well, and the exuberant sound is like music to your ears.

“So you came for my soda instead?” Mike teases, and you shake your head with a smile.

“I think you know why I’m here.” You say, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of what happened last time you were in his house. Your fingers tighten around the soda can at the thought of touching Mike again, and you so badly want to reach out for him.

“I’m not sure if you deserve it. You weren’t very nice to me last night at the party.” He smirks, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the kitchen counter. He places his soda can on the kitchen counter and tilts his head at you, waiting for your rebuttal.

“I was nice enough.” You simper, shrugging your shoulders. If he’s going to make you work for it, you’ll play along.

“Say please. I can’t believe I have to teach you how to use your manners.” He coos, and you huff when you realise you won’t get what you want right away.

“I'm very polite.” You stubbornly stand your ground, but you can feel your resolve weakening with every word that comes out of Mike's mouth.

“You might be polite, but apparently you forgot how to ask for things.”

“Please, Mike.”

His lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. All the build up from the past week, all the sexual tension between you and Mike is released into the kiss. The kiss is frantic and needy, like even being this close isn’t enough. His want for you shows in the way his rough hands grab any part of your body they can reach. You blindly slide your soda can on the kitchen counter before threading your fingers through his hair, softly pulling at the root making him moan into your mouth. He tastes like cream soda and weed and his hands caressing your body send a shiver up your spine, and you haven’t felt this way since the last time he touched you.

“You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you.” He says in a gruff voice as he walks you backwards and lifts you up onto the kitchen counter. You spread your legs so he can slot himself between them, and he presses soft kisses into your neck. His hands are on your waist, stabilising you as he kneads the soft skin there.

“I thought you might’ve forgotten about me.” You shyly admit, and he softly bites your neck, almost scolding you for your words.

“Are you serious?” He asks incredulously, removing his head from your neck to look at you. His heavy lidded gaze makes you feel nervous, and his reaction makes you feel like you said something you shouldn’t have. Your silence serves as an answer to his question and he shakes his head at you disapprovingly as he slowly gets on his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You suck in a quick breath at the sight of Mike in between your legs, and an involuntary whine escapes from your lips when he begins to undo the button of your pants.

“Y/n, the only thing i’ve been able to think about is you.” He groans, and you lift your hips off the counter to help Mike as he pulls your pants down over your ass. Your pants hit the floor and Mike is pressing open mouthed kisses into the insides of your plush thighs. He takes his time, kissing and sucking on the expanse of your thighs, and you think you might go crazy if he continues to tease you. Your thighs slightly close around Mike’s head, looking for any friction you can get. Mike lets out a laugh and you throw your head back in frustration.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there something you’d like?” Mike innocently asks, looking up at you as his mouth gets dangerously close to your pantie clad pussy. A sadistic smile paints his face and you put your hands in Mike's hair, trying to pull him closer to the place you need him the most.

“Mike, stop fucking teasing.” You pant, and a dissatisfied sigh leaves Mike's lips.

“I thought we talked about using your manners.” He mocks, and although he's the one on his knees in front of you, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s certainly still in control.

“Please, Mike. Please, I need you.” You beg, and not long after, Mike is licking a hot stripe up your covered cunt. You bite your bottom lip, your chest heaving as Mike continues to press messy, open mouthed kisses to the wet spot on your panties. His grip on your thighs is strong, and the feeling of his blunt nails digging into the soft skin makes your head spin. Soon enough, his thick fingers are hooking into your underwear and pulling it down your legs. He wastes no time, quickly latching his lips to your swollen clit and making out with your pussy like a man starved. Your jaw drops in pleasure, and your hand tugging at his hair makes him moan into you.

“Mike, h-holy shit.” You cry out, as he enters one of his long fingers into you. His tongue swirls around your clit as he pumps his finger in and out of you, and the sounds of him eating your pussy are absolutely sinful. Mike replaces his tongue with his thumb, rubbing your clit in slow circles as he slowly enters another finger into you.

“You’re so tight.” He mutters, and his eyes are glued on your soaked cunt and the way it sucks his fingers in. He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, curling them upwards, hitting a spot that makes you jerk your hips upward.

“M-Mike, I’m gonna-” You start, but cut yourself off with a moan as Mike reattaches hip lips to your clit. With his fingers rapidly moving in and out of you, and his mouth doing god's work on your clit, you swear you’re starting to hear colours. Your thighs begin to shake as you start to grind yourself on Mike's face as you near your orgasm. You let out a loud moan as you finally release, the only thing you can feel is the pure pleasure surging through your body as you cum, and Mike coaxing you through it. Your breathing is heavy as you come down from your high. Mike removes his fingers and mouth from your pussy, pressing a final kiss to your clit before he stands back up in front of you.

“Open your mouth.” He softly demands, and you do, letting Mike shove his cum covered fingers into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the digits, humming as he lets his fingers travel to the back of your throat, making you gag. “That's it.” He praises, caressing your cheek as you suck his fingers. He removes his hand from your mouth and places them on your hips, helping you off the counter. He turns you around so you’re facing away from him, and he presses a hand to the centre of your back, bending you over the counter. He presses himself into you, and pushes your ass back against his covered erection. Mike leans over you, wrapping a hand around your throat to pull you up against his chest as he brings his lips to your ear.

“How could I forget about you when you look like a fucking angel when you cum.” He confesses in your ear, bucking his hips against you as he releases you, letting you fall back over the counter. The sound of him undoing his belt and pants makes you involuntarily clench your legs together, and you turn your head, watching as Mike spits in his hand and strokes himself a couple times before lining himself up with your pussy.

“Have you been thinking about this?” Mike taunts, teasing the head of his cock up and down your slit.

“You have no idea.” You whine, pushing your hips back in an attempt to just get Mike to fuck you. However, Mike holds your hips steady, restraining you from grinding back on him.

“Enlighten me, then.” Mike responds, like he has all the time in the world. But to you, it feels like the end of the world with the way your pussy is throbbing and in need of stimulation. A defeated sob leaves your lips at Mike’s teasing,

“All the fucking time, Mike. I felt like I was going crazy.” You babble, and your words seem to be good enough for Mike, because he’s filling you up with his thick cock. All your thoughts, any worries you’ve had over the past week are gone. The only thing you can focus on is the way he fits perfectly inside you, and the way the grunts and groans leaving his lips sound like perfect melodies to your ears. His hips snap into yours roughly, and you know you’ll be sore tomorrow.

“I couldn’t get high without thinking about you. You fucking ruined weed for me.” Mike admits with a laugh, like the whole thing is preposterous. His fingers work quick circles on your clit and you shiver as Mike places a hand under your jaw, lifting you so he can press kisses into your neck.

“Good. Maybe you’ll smoke it less. It’s bad for your lungs.” You breathily tease, and Mike sucks a particularly dark spot into your neck in response to your words. Mike continues his rough pace, and you clench hard around him.

“Gonna cum.” You whine and Mike only continues to fuck you, wanting to get you there. You cum for the second time, your body jerking as the overwhelming sensation hits you. Mike holds your shaky body up as he cums inside of you, letting out a strained “fuck” as his own orgasm washes over him. You both stand there afterwards, catching your breath as Mike release slowly begins to leak out of you and down your thighs.

“Did I seriously ruin weed for you?” You hoarsely ask in a disbelieving voice. You feel Mike’s chest rumble as he laughs, and actually, you think his laugh is the most perfect sounding melody.

“Trust me, It’s embarrassing to admit.” He says, and you let out a quick breath as he pulls out of you. He grabs a cloth out of a kitchen drawer and runs it under warm water in the sink before cleaning up the cum between your legs. He tucks himself back into his boxers before pulling his pants up, and you follow suit.

“Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.” You jest as you button your pants.

“Maybe.” Mike says with a smile, and when you look at him, you think you wouldn’t even need weed to get high. You’d just need this feeling.

taglist: @slutf0rmilfs, @angie-likes-to-art, @spenciesprincess, @janitorhutcherson, @leahdhopkins4321, @pickingchoosinglovinghope, @esebabe, @under-sedationnn, @celestbarnes, @brechdan-ham, @souldzaboj, @t0byisher3, @rottingpeache, @joshs-big-toe, @p3talll

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #smut #fnafmovie #fnaf

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josibunn · 8 months

Note

Alright,

Imagine Euronymous's girlfriend always begging him to on bottom but he always refuses so when he laying down in bed they go in there and handcuff in to the bed frame and then we all know what happens from there 🤭

omg anon you LITERALLYYYY hacked my account this is sitting in my drafts!!!

sorry this took so long anon, school literally beats my ass. I love this idea tho!!

fem reader x euronymous, smut! obvi, p in v, unprotected, use of restraints and a blindfold, smacking, cigarette play, subby euro and dommish reader, slight angst, he’s just so mean to you in the beginning :/. sorta cnc, heed the warning if you’re uncomfortable with such! enjoy! comment to be in the tag list or for moots ok mwah mwah!! scroll all the way down for taglist form :3

tl: @cc-luvr @bambi-horror @sugarinte

“øysteinnn,” you whine, following him into your shared room. “no.” he shakes his head, almost closing the door on you. “but—just once! it won’t be bad!”

“I don’t care, because I won’t be fucking doing it.” he laid back against his bed, flipping on the tv. you’d been begging your boyfriend for weeks to let you be in charge, try something new with the cuffs he’d usually use on you. but no, he just had to be in charge all the time! wont even give it a chance!

“you don’t even know if you don’t like it!” you sit next to him, rubbing his stomach. “I don’t need to, because I don’t want to try.” he didn’t even look at you, and you groan. “you’re so mean! why do you always get to be in charge? what if I wanna make you scream my name?” you cross your arms, watching him light a cig.

“you’re fucking crazy, and you’re about to piss me off. don’t make me waste a cigarette on you.” he pointed at you, and you knew he was referring to how he’d press his cigs into your knees.

you huff, “fine, whatever. i bet varg would let m—” you couldn’t even get the joke out before he grabs your throat with his cigarette hand, slapping you across the face, making you gasp and yelp, putting a hand on him chest to push him away but he wasn’t budging.

“say it. say it I fuckin’ dare you.” he says lowly, eyes glued on you as he watches tears well in your eyes. he slaps you again but harder, making you cry louder. “you were just so fuckin’ bold, where’d it go? say it, go the fuck ahead.” he grits, squeezing your throat, making you whimper.

“mm. what I fuckin’ thought. don’t ever pull some shit like that again.” he takes a long drag of his cigarette before immediately smashing it into your thigh while it’s still red, the burn making you cry and scream and kick at him while he held your throat and held it down, watching your face with no remorse.

“maybe this’ll teach you how to behave.” he flicks it off onto the floor before slapping you again, blowing the smoke in your face as you cry. “you’re-so mean,” you cry, rubbing your leg and whipping your face off with your sleeve.

he sighs, he didn’t like listening to you cry, not out of frustration at least. “you gotta stop pissing me off sugar,” he coos with a hint of anger still in him as he cups your cheeks, using his own sleeve to wipe your face now as you look to the side.

“i’ll..think about it. i’ll think. just stop pissing me off, yknow I don’t like hurting you.” he kisses your cheek slowly before kissing you, rubbing your leg lightly and holding your face with his other hand.

you nod as he lets go of you, taking off his glasses and laying on his back and taking off his shirt, pulling the cover over his body. “go get yourself an ice pack, i’ll sleep on it, but that doesn’t mean a yes. ok? i love you, i love you,” he repeated, just because he wanted you to know he meant it and he loved hearing you say it back. no matter how soft he spoke you knew he’d still say no, but you just nodded.

“i love you too,” you say and he kissed you one more time before laying back with his arm over his eyes, then his lips parted. you left the room with a huff, crossing your arms as you went downstairs and fixed yourself an ice pack.

you didn’t know why he didn’t want to try it, maybe it was a masculinity thing, or his love for being in control of you during sex. but you were gonna get your way, you always did with him. whether he liked it or not.

so after your leg stopped hurting you went into your guys box of toys and trinkets, grabbing the cuffs and blindfold you knew oh so well. you snuck back into the room, seeing him sprawled out in the bed, thankfully on his back, sound asleep. and it was a good thing he was a heavy sleeper.

you grab his arms softly and place the cuff on his wrist, laying his arm back down and locking it around your bed frame, going around doing the same, and he was still sound asleep. you step back to look at him, giggling with a hand over your mouth.

an hour goes by and you’re getting ready for bed, having just got out of the shower. you had gotten into some lingerie you’d recently bought, it was lacy and red, and the lace making embroidered roses around the nipples but best believe they poked out underneath, the sheer fabric barley covering them.

and your underwear was bout the same but left your pussy to the imagination of whoever we gazed upon, the straps of it being thin red lace that barely covered your ass and only your your vagina, and ooh you knew he would hate not being able to watch you gush onto him.

euronymous stirred away, going to rub his eye but found he couldn’t, his hands in the air. he furrowed his brows as he tried to move the both down, jerking at the restrictions. “what the fuck?” he whispered to himself, looking up at what was holding him.

he tried to sit up but couldn’t even do that, more rage pulsing through his tired body. he huffed and shouted your name, it echoing through the apartment and made you jump, smiling. he’s up!

you giggle as you slip on a white nightgown, fixing your hair in the mirror and putting some vaseline on your lips, popping your head into the room so he wouldn’t see your get up. “yes?” you say innocently, and he stares at you, head down and eyes low with anger, a shadow cast over his eyelids. (like the gif :3)

“cmere.” he nods his head as he says calmly, but you could hear his anger. “is something wrong?” you smile, tilting your head. “come here,” he repeated louder as you lean against the door frame, showcasing your outfit, head propped against it as your hands ran down it.

“you like my gown?” he snarls your name again, “get me the fuck out of this.” you roll your eyes. “I get all pretty for you and you don’t even care!” “get me the fuck out of here!” you watch him jerk his hands against the cuffs, and it made you giggle a little as you sit on the edge of the bed next to him, rubbing his leg.

“oh you think this is funny? it’s fucking funny?? wait till I get out.” he nods, his nails digging into his palms as his biceps flex. “yknow you look so hot right now,” you crawl onto his right leg, rubbing his biceps. “i’m gonna fuck you up when I get out of here. just you fuckin’ wait, you can’t keep me in here forever.”

“how bout you just shut the fuck up. ok?” you’re seated fully on his lap as you rub down his chest sensually. “you’re being so ungrateful, and to think I wore something so pretty for you tonight.” you cup his cheeks to him look at you, his eyes still glaring.

“you’re in for it. you’re in for it I swear to fucking god.” he mumbles,trying to get out of your grip. “you wouldn’t have to wake up like this if you just cooperated baby,” you faux frown.

he struggles around you as you tie the blindfold around his eyes, “you’ll never be as good as me, yknow that? nobody can get you worked—” you slap him across the face and he chokes a gasp, mouth open in shock.

“you fucking-” “you just talk so fucking much, just let me take care of you,” he sucks in a breath, feeling your hand pull the covers off as you rub his waking wood, pushing his lips together and stopping himself from bucking up to your touch.

“øystein you know i’ll untie you if you want me to. but you really don’t want me to help you?” you coo in his ear and he jumps slightly as you continue stroking him through his boxers, feeling him grow in your hand and seeing him strain against his boxers.

“you don’t want me to make you feel good for a little, baby?” you kiss his neck lightly as you run your thumb over him clothed slit, hearing him hiss and pull at his restraints more. “[y/n], don’t touch-.” he grits, but lets out a whimper when your lips run over his sweet spot, his breath heaving.

you raise your brows in shock at the noise, continuing to prod at his sweet spot, running your tongue flat against it and sucking on it greedily, hearing him strain and whine some more as you stroke him quicker, his pale chest arching and heaving, trying not to let out any sounds of pleasure, he didn’t want you to have that satisfaction, but you know how to get it out of him.

you bite at the spot and hear him let out a strained groan, teeth pressed together as he moves his head out the way for you, there it was. you litter tiny bites on his skin, hearing him let out muffled groans and whimpers, making you frown.

you lift up and move your hands away, tracing a finger on his abs. “you were just so loud baby, what happened?” you coo, running your nails up his thigh teasingly. “hm?” you watch his pink face as his lip quivers, searching for your voice and how close you were.

“euronymous, you better speak the fuck up before I leave you here.” you warn, hand now up his boxers, and he gasps. “baby, cmon.” he mumbles. “what was that?” you sit close to him, slipping your gown off. “speak up for me.” you were drinking in this feeling, and he knew that, he hated it, and he hated how the situation made him feel. but he hadn’t been this hard since you let him fuck you over a balcony on a third floor apartment.

“baby come on,” he says louder, his voice whiney and desperate. “what’d you want me to do baby? you gotta tell me.” you kiss his lips as you pull him out his boxers, his hard, red tip oozing with precum, making you smile against him.

“mmf-do it, please baby,” he says in the kiss, and you slap him. “do what, euronymous. you gotta tell me what you want or I won’t do anything.” he gasps and exhales shakily, a whimper leaving his open mouth, breathing into your mouth.

you watch his cock twitch as his legs squirm and his fists struggle against the cuffs, making you smile. “you’re a dirty boy, yknow that? you like when I hit you?” you stroke his cock and he lets out a groan, and when he doesn’t answer you strike him again, harder. he yelps and grips his fists again, nodding.

“yes, y-yes I do baby I do,” he breaths, chest heaving and red. “touch it. touch it baby cmon,” he turns his head as he whines, searching for your voice. you smile, “is that how good boys ask? where’s that magic word you love so much, huh?” you taunt.

he pushes his lips together, whining. “no.” he mumbles, and you raise your brows. “no?” you repeat and move his hand away from his cock. “guess you don’t want it.”

he gasps, “no! n-no no I want it, I want it please baby,” he wiggled his hood in search for your touch again, and you could feel yourself get wet at his pathetic squirming as you bite your lip.

“say it again, say that magic word again babyboy.” you rub his thigh. “please baby, please touch me,” he whines. you smile, “only because you were so polite. but when I touch you you gotta say thank you, understand?”

“yes, y-yes I will,” he nods frantically. “yes what?” “y…yes ma’am.” he whispered, and you smile before spitting in your hand, grabbing his aching cock and stroking him quickly, hearing him moan out, throwing his head back.

“oh thank you, thank you baby,” he stammers, bucking up to your hand as his wrist move against the cuffs. “can you say thank you momma?” your squeeze around his tip as you stroke him quickly, pre cum gliding down onto your hand.

he whines, lips forming a pout. “don’t do this to me baby..” “say it. or i’ll stop.” you squeeze him again, and he lets out a groan, mouth agape and lips glossy with spit, oh he looked so cute. such a sweee contrast to how he usually preformed.

“o-ok! ok th-thank you momma, thank you momma,” he whines, biting his lip as he fucks your fist. “good boy, I knew you could be my good boy,” you scoot between his legs on your knees, leaning down to his tip, still watching his face as he groans out, head thrown back and his pretty pale chest heaving as his legs squirm.

“stop moving baby.” you warn, and he feels your breath on his tip, making him turn his head down, even though he still couldn’t see. “you’re—I wanna see, lemme watch you, please.”

you sigh a smile, oh his moans and whines and whimpers just went straight to your core, you were throbbing, aching. he whimpered feeling your hot breath on his tip, his dick jumping.

“you wanna watch? do you think you deserve to watch, hm? you’ve been so mean to momma.” you rub your tongue along the slit of his tip and he moans out. still pulling at his restrains.

“i’m sorry momma I-I didn’t mean it, I swEar jus’ lemme watch, love your lips, please,” he begs, voice cracking cutely. “my baby loves my lips? loved watching my lips wrap around his pretty cock?” you slip the blind fold off his head and his eyes shoot everywhere, taking in what you wore.

“oh fuck, fuck look at you,” he pants, his eyes glued to your boobs as you rub his shoulders before slapping him across the face, earning a squeak and whimper, his eyes shutting. “watch your mouth, you curse again and i’m gonna hit you harder.”

he nods, eye fucking your pussy that was closed off to him. he pulled at his restrictions, “lemme touch you, wanna touch you. please momma please..” he looks up at you with those big blue eyes you love so much. you shook your head, “you don’t get to touch me tonight, at all. you should’ve cooperated early.”

you crawl back down between his legs. he whines, “momma no, please I just wanna touch you, wanna make you feel good,” he whines, and you lay your head against his thigh, his cock his hand looking up at him. “you’re so cute, but no. no touching, you’ll make me feel good later baby, I promise you that.” you kiss his tip before circling your tongue around it, stroking the rest of his length as you took his tip on your mouth now, hearing him let out a loud groan and curse.

“ahh fuck momma,” he moans, and you slap his thighs making him jump. “do you want me to stop? what’d I just tell you,” you pull off, and he shakes his head frantically. “m-m’sorry, I promise i’m sorry, don’t stop momma.”

you hum as you go back down on him, sucking around his tip and hallowing your cheeks out, hearing him groan whinily again, watching himself disappear into your mouth with blown out eyes, brows furrowed and mouth agape, hair cutely stuck to his forehead.

you held his hips down to stop his squirming as you took him whole, your ass arched in the air, knowing how much he loved it, and knowing how bad he wanted to shove you down onto him.

“faster momma, f-faster please, can’t take it,” he groans, still trying to move his hips. and you listen, bobbing your head on him quicker as your tongue latches onto the underside of his cock, making him whimper out, eyes squeezed shut as his head lolls around and rests on his shoulder. “momma, momma please lemme touch you, m’gonna—” he cuts himself off with a moan, feeling his abs tighten.

“you’re gonna cum baby? is my pretty boy gonna cum?” you pull off and stroke him quickly, using his own slick as lube as your rest his tip on your tongue. he nods, teeth smashes together as are his eyes, bucking into your hand again.

“gonna cum momma, gonna f-f-” he stops himself from cursing by biting his lip before he groans and cums on himself, spurting on his abs and tailbone. “look at alll that,” you purr, watching as he just kept going, his eyes low as he watches, trying to catch his breath. he watches you get in and wipe your hand on his boxers, his eyes widening.

“when you’d get that?” he breaths, looking you up and down. “last week, you like it,” you sit next to him as he nods eagerly. “lemme touch you. undo me,” he looks up at you.

“boy you’re not getting out till I say so,” you clip on top of him. “stop tryin’ it.” “momma, look at you. I need to, please. lemme take care of you,” he whines, licking his lips as his head hangs on his shoulder, watching your boobs jiggle as you stand his dick up to your stomach.

“you’ll take care of me alright,” you grab his cigarettes, lighting one for yourself and taking a hit before putting it in his mouth, letting him take one too. “you remember what you did to me earlier?” you tap his cheek with the cig in your hand. “what’d I do?”

you take another drag before jamming it into his chest under his pec, and he cries out, pulling at his restraints and squirming under you. “stop moving.” you keep it on his skin and he groans between his teeth.

“fuck momma!” he cried out, tears swelling in his eyes. you flick the cig to the floor and slap him again, making him cry louder. you cup his cheeks to make him look at you. “keep disobeying me, you hear? i’ll leave you like this, with a hard dick stuck in hand cuffs. what would your little buddies think, hm?” you say, and his eyes widen, “n-no..”

“their big, bad, metal lord all tied up, begging to cum and calling his little girlfriend momma? you think they’d still fear you?” you coo, and you felt his dick jump against you as he whimpers looking away from you. his precum oozed onto your stomach, and you smack your lips.

“oh you like that huh,” you tap his sensitive tip, feeling him move against your grip as you do so. “dirty fuckin’ boy, want your friends to know about our little secret, huh?” you ask and he shakes his head. “no momma, please no momma,” he whines, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“mm, only because you’re being so good for me. you still wanna make me feel good?” “yes! yes yes yes, wanna make you feel so good,” he nods frantically as you push his head on the pillow.

“keep-keep this on though, keep it on momma. look so so good,” he watches you move your underwear to the side. “do you think you deserve it, huh? you’ve been actin’ out a lot tonight,” you rub his tip against your soaking entrance.

“uh huh, need it, need that wet pussy,” he groans, squeezing his fists. “you want my pussy babyboy?” you sink onto him, letting out a moan as he tips his head back and groans, making you clench around him. god he looked so so good like this.

“oh momma, oh momma,” he moans, his eyes shut and his lips parted. “don’t move, ok? lemme take care of it,” you rock your hips against him, holding his chest down and rubbing your thumb over his burn mark. he hisses at the sensation but bucks his hips up into you, starting to fuck up into you.

you choke back a moan before slapping him, “you don’t fucking listen, I just told you not to move.” with a huff you slide off of him, and he immediately tries to get up but can’t, “no! no no i’m sorry, i’m sorry I-i’ll be good I promise, fuck me momma please fuck me,” he begs as you go to the box in your closet.

“no. you don’t deserve it, bad boys like you don’t deserve my pussy,” you sit back in between his legs, yours draping over his as you tease your whole with the dildo. he whines, “no momma, please I-i’ll be good, just fuck me..i’ll be better,” he whimpers, whining more when you slid it in with a loud moan.

“momma..” “no. I gave..you a lot of chances tonight, and you’re blowin’ it baby.” you sigh as you fuck yourself, using your elbow to prop yourself up on the bed. you know he hates you getting off on your own, he always says he’d rather you just wait for him so he can do it, because he knows your body best.

he watched the clear dildo disappear into you with pouty lips as you moan out, head tipped back and eyes shut, your body jittery as you move faster. and god, you hated how he was right all the time, even under your control. he did know your body best.

“momma..momma please, i’ll do better. jus’ lemme feel you please,” he begs, his cock jumping at the sight of you arching your back, your boobs jiggling against your arm as you push deeper into yourself, a high moan emitting from you. “you promise baby?”

“yes, I-I pinky promise just please, please give it to me,” he whines. you roll your eyes before slipping it out, throwing it on the bed and crawling over to him. “you better listen to me,” you say as you sink back onto him, and he let out a drawn out groan, his eyes shutting and his head tipping back.

“that’s it, thank you momma thank you,” he whines, eyes low as he looks up at you, your hands planted on his pecks. “oh there’s my good boy, I knew you had it,” you coo, rubbing his cheek. he nods, “your good boy, swear momma i’m your good boy,” he breaths out as you lean to kiss him, hopping on his dick eagerly.

he moans high in the kiss, still pulling at his restraints but holding still like you asked. “oh fuck baby,” you moan shakily, hitting that deep sweet spot in you that had your body tingling and your legs shaking, feeling your stomach twist up.

your breathing gets heavier and you pull away, unable to continue kissing him so you two just breathed into each others mouth, eyes glued together, both drowned out in lust and ditziness. your moans got louder and you felt your body get heavier, and you knew what feeling was coming to you.

for some reason, your orgasm came harder when you were on top. “you’re gonna cum momma, yeah? gonna cum on me?” he sighs, watching you shut your eyes as you slow down, grinding onto him to to prod that sweet spot, and you moan out louder. “yes baby, I-m’gonna cum,” you say shakily.

he watches you lift up and bounce on that sweet spot, lips glossy. “so pretty, oh you’re so pretty momma, cum, cum on m—” he chokes as you wrap your hands around his throat, holding him down to the bed.

“shut up baby, let me take c-care of it, oh fuck, ooh fuck baby,” you whine, squeezing his neck as you cum onto him with loud drawn out moans, gasping as you ride out your high, eyebrows scrunched and mouth open, shuddered babbles flying off your tongue.

“gonna-cum momma,” he chokes, gasping for air as you press down more, riding his through his orgasm. he throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, moans spewing out of him before he cums deep inside you, hard load after load.

“mmm yes baby, that’s a good boy, yeah? you’re my good boy?” you continue riding him to overstimulation, and he shudders, groaning and arching his back.

“momma feels too good, feels too good wait, n-no,” he whimpers, gritting his teeth as he continues coming into you. “I know, it’s so good right? keep goin for me baby you got it,” you kiss his cheek as he moans, throwing his head back against the pillow. “n-no, it’s so good momma no more,” he begs, and you finally pull off, laying next to him on your side, cum leaking out of you as you try n catch your breath with your boyfriend.

“what’d you think baby,” you lift up to look at him, rubbing his face as he catches his breath, body relaxing against the cuffs, his eyes closed and chest heaving. “so good, real good momma.” “mmhmmm.” you nod, kissing him gently, hearing him still whimper when your lips connect. “lemme clean you up n i’ll let you go, ok?” you leave the room to wet a towel, coming back and seeing him laid back and eyes closed.

“baby?” you say softly before realizing he’s asleep, making you smile. “poor baby, all fucked out.” you clean him up gently before uncuffing him, allowing him to roll on his side. you turn off your lamp as you slip under his grasp, holding the hand that drapes over you.

you don’t think you’d do it again, or at least not often. that was a lot of fuckin’ work.

anddddd fin!! I loved this soooo much thank u sm anon :33 subby euro is something I didn’t know I needed in my life! I hope u enjoyed, comment for moots and taglist request form can be found here. bye love u mwah mwah!!

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #x black reader #euronymous smut #lords of chaos smut #lords of chaos #sub euronymous #subby #eurory prompt

344 notes · View notes

juuuulez · 5 months

Text

📰 | part nine: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, finally they kiss, enemies with benefits, based on s7 finale, secret relationship except they’re not in a relationship, Carl almost dies.

summary: Alexandria has regained their power, and Carl narrowly escapes death. Finally, your feelings catch up to each other. Season 7 finale.

-> masterlist <-

okay!!!! FINALLY i got this done! this will be our LAST sorta canon chapter, because we all know the tragedy of season 8……so now i’m diverging the story into my own canon ;)

also entering a new phase of the carl and reader relationship..definitely a more exciting one! don’t worry, it’s still slowburn, just a bit more heated!

You were trying your best to ignore Carl, the past couple of days. Maybe you were a tad embarrassed that he’d seen you during a vulnerable moment. There was a part of your brain that still hadn’t accepted it, and knew that being around Carl would only remind you, that you’d receive the brunt of his sympathy.

Sympathy was not what you wanted.

But as always, sooner or later, you wound up within those walls once more.

Tensions were high.

They had weapons, too many of them. This surely wasn’t it, right? The Saviours had been through worse. But these people were like cockroaches, their spirit didn’t die, they kept coming back up and rebelling. You were getting sick of it. Negan was, too.

Everything went sideways when Sasha’s zombified corpse fell out of the coffin. It all ramped up too quickly, and before you knew it, there was gunfire.

It was relatively easy to get under control, yet still, there was always that voice that wondered if this would do it, this is the fight that kills you. It never does, yet you consider it.

A few members of Alexandria are killed in the process. One you take with your metal bat, disarming the man initially, yet his persistence to live claws at your feet, dragging you down onto the concrete. He’d pulled a knife from his sheath, trying to stab you, leaving you to finally crack the bat down onto his skull.

You were a high ticket item, I guess. It’s a surprise nobody else was itching for this chance to end your life.

Eventually, it all dies down. You take a moment to wipe the blood off your hands, trying to catch your breath and regain your composure before stepping back into the chaos.

When you do, a frown fills your features. Not exactly at upset expression, just something pensive.

Carl and Rick, on their knees. You weren’t listening to Negan, likely able to guess what he’s saying. What he wants. God forbid you try to stop it.

In fact, you didn’t want to.

Carl grit his jaw to ignore that urge to get up, to fight, to try to escape. He glared across the grass, practically into your soul. It wasn’t an urge for help, just a pointed look. This is what your family does.

If this was it, if he died, he’d want you to see it. Maybe just to rub it in your face, that he’d died for a noble cause, whilst you’d eventually fall victim to the uprising of Alexandria. At least, that’s how Carl saw it happening.

When the countdown ends, he unconsciously tenses, eyes screwed shut to combat confronting whatever happens next.

Were you really going to do nothing?

And yet it doesn’t happen.

Shiva mauled a nearby Saviour, taking the attention off of him, and back onto the simmering rebellion. Carl recovers quickly from the shock of near death, forced to rejoin the fight, even if his mind is still reeling.

Maybe he thought you were softening up, after that night in the cabin. It had humanised you. This sort of reversed all that.

The gunfire become unruly, and it was clear who was winning. If this was any indication of the future, then the Saviours were at the end of the line, and Carl was more than happy for it.

He’d managed to escape into a narrow alleyway between two houses, hoping to sneak around and get behind the enemy group, take them by surprise.

However, he makes it a few paces down the alley, before crossing into the gravel path behind the buildings. His senses are sharpened, luckily, for within seconds a dense mass is swinging at his head.

Carl narrowly avoids the bat, ducking fast enough that it swings into the house, getting caught in the wooden boards. They splinter around the metal, concaving inwards, rendering it stuck.

“Fuck!” You swear, tugging with all your might to free it, knowing it’s your only weapon. The adrenaline still pumps through your veins, moreso focused on rearming yourself, less on Carl finally standing within your vicinity.

There’s no doubt he’s angry, hence why you need your weapon back, pulling furiously to try and break the wooden confines. It’s too late, because then Carl harshly shoves your shoulder, pushing you away from the trapped baseball bat.

“What the hell was that?” He sneers, finally letting the frustration and fear towards almost dying pour out. “He was going to kill me, and you just watched?”

You roll your eyes, that snarky attitude resurfacing, reverting to this version of yourself that doesn’t care. “He wasn’t, alright? You would’ve been fine.”

The assurance means nothing, for Carl still invades your space, his face practically inches from your own. “Bullshit!” He yells.

In response, you shove him away. It sends the boy stumbling back into the alley, and the second he’s regained his footing, he’s trying to push you against the wall.

It’s almost childish, the way you fight. Pushing and shoving like toddlers, yet with the strength of two teenagers, fueled by years of surviving and adapting and hormones.

You manage to sweep your foot out, tripping Carl up, letting him fall to the ground. Before he can try to get up, which he attempts immediately, you’re pinning him to the ground, planted firmly on his chest.

One hand lands on your neck, almost putting enough pressure to choke you. Carl’s other hand grips your waist, trying to push you off him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” He shouts, despite how close you are, “You want me dead, huh? After all that bullshit—“

“Shut up!” You yell, cutting him off, slamming your hand over his mouth. It tastes salty like sweat, and little bits of dirt are pressed into his face, but Carl can’t do much but let it happen.

With him finally silenced, you manage to take a few deep breaths, trying to organise your thoughts. You two glare at eachother, before you slowly remove your hand, lifting it away from him.

“You—“ Carl attempts again, only for your palm to reclaim his face. This time you pinch his cheeks with your pointer and thumb, causing a disgruntled expression to overtake his features, trying again to squirm from your grasp.

“Don’t talk.” You hiss, this time not letting go, just needing him to be quiet whilst you try and explain.

That, and it felt a little good to put him in his place. But you didn’t have time to savour the feeling, for Carl tightens his grip on your neck, forcing you to hurry with the explanation.

“Negan is not going to hurt you,” You try to tell him, speaking slowly and clearly, wanting to get it into his thick skull. “Let alone kill you. Okay?”

The suggestion causes Carl to try and protest, likely having ten billion reasons why he thinks otherwise, but you’re quick to silence him with a firm grip on his jaw. He shoots you an irritated look, yet remains quiet.

“As long as you’re alive, we can control Rick,” You explain, “The second something happens to you, he stops caring. Right now, you’re the only leverage we have. So, Negan bluffs. I mean, c’mon, you really thought he was gonna do that?”

Carl gives no response, maybe because he’s thinking about it. But you give him the benefit of the doubt, loosening your hold on his jaw, yet leaving your hand there. The pair of you are still panting, and Carl struggles to breathe slightly under your weight on his chest. As such, you shift down a little, but still remain atop him.

For some reason, you keep talking. Maybe there is an inkling of regret, a bubbling guilt over just standing and observing whilst Carl confronted potentially imminent death.

“But that doesn’t mean you get ‘t do stupid stuff, yeah? Especially not now. Things are getting messy, and now you’ve all got guns, so.. I dunno, don’t get cocky, because we can still punish you for it.” You ramble on.

Carl stays silent, letting you run your mouth. He’s not really listening. This is the closest you’ve been before, and you’re practically sitting in his lap, knees planted either side of his thighs whilst you hover.

The hand on your waist remains, settled there, feeling the warmth of your body. That white tank you always wear is thin, dirtied from todays fight, and rides up just enough to reveal a slither of your stomach. God, this is so irrational. But right now, you’re looking less like the enemy, and more like a pretty girl.

Somehow, you’re still talking, rambling about how these next few days will be dangerous, and how Carl should watch out for any surprise Saviour visits. How Negan will be trying to catch everybody off guard.

You’re not even looking at him, staring down at the dirt next to you whilst your mind runs. Carl let’s his hand shift downwards from your waist, just a bit, wondering how low it could get before you caught on. Those tight black jeans, clinging to your form, have never been so tempting.

“That, and I don’t think..” You trail off when you notice Carl’s silence, finally becoming a little more aware of your position. He’s barely even paying attention. “Carl.”

His eyes flicker back up to you, from wherever they’d been looking at. You realise that he’s essentially eye-level with your chest, causing you to tug at his jaw, pulling his face up to force his attention back on you.

Neither of you speak, as Carl shifts a little, pushing himself into a sitting position, approaching in on your personal space. You stay put, on edge, trying to decipher what he’s up to. The hand on your waist travels lower, to your hip, whilst Carl’s grip on your neck loosens so he’s simply holding you.

“Carl.” You whisper again, almost as a warning, quickly catching on to what’s happening here. There’s still gunfire outside the alley, people fighting. That, and this is definitely a bad idea.

This isn’t the face of somebody who wants you dead. Carl is looking at you with an certain want in his eyes, and it’s precious and innocent yet dirty at the same time. For a second, you actually just feel like a teenage girl. Smitten.

Shaking your head, you try to look away from his face, his lips, his eyes. “We’re not doing this.” You whisper, and yet, make no attempt to get off him.

He clocks this, more aware than yourself of how much you might actually want this, even if you say otherwise. But he doesn’t make a move, trying to coax you into a position of agreement, like he needs to hear you say it first. “C’mon, just a little bit.” Carl whispers back, and you can feel his breath on your face.

It’s ridiculous that you’ve let it get this far. You try to consider all the consequences, all the reasons this is stupid, but your brain feels all foggy and mushy. It takes the slightest movement and your lips are brushing together.

You pull back before it can even be called a kiss. Just the tiniest bit, brows furrowed, looking slightly worried. Carl doesn’t chase you down. He doesn’t move, allowing you to take the lead, as if trusting that you do want this. And you do.

That’s why you go back again.

This time, your lips actually meet, and it’s hesitant and awkward at first. But it doesn’t take long to find your footing. One hand still holds onto Carl’s jaw, tilting his head back slightly, giving you access to lick into his mouth. The other hand shifts into his hair, thumb brushing against the back of his neck, fingers gently twirling in the brown locks.

They’re soft. You’d thought so.

Carl leans backwards so he’s laying down, letting you properly sit on his lap. His arms are wrapped around you, hands planted firmly on your ass over those tight jeans, tugging you further down into his body.

You’ve never kissed someone like this before. Neither has he. The adrenaline in your veins pumps hard, urging you to claim his mouth as your own, to which Carl eagerly kisses back.

Eventually, you have to pull away for air, resting your forehead against Carl’s. Your lips are red and swollen from the kissing, coated in a sheen of spit, an expression mirrored on his features. Except that after a moment of breathing, Carl begins to grin, which makes your expression sour.

“Don’t.” You grunt, not wanting to hear whatever he has to say.

But Carl shakes his head, the movement small to not disturb your rest against him. “I just think you look pretty from this angle.”

You still roll your eyes, even if the compliment settles it’s way into your heart, making an unfamiliar warmth spread in your chest. The blush on your face must be evident, because Carl moves his hands upwards, settling over your waist and holding you close to him.

“I’ve gotta go. They’re still fighting.” You remind him, voice lowered to a hushed whisper due to the proximity of the situation. It’s weird, being this intimate and private with Carl. The person you hate more than anything.

His grip tightens on you a little more, holding firmly so that Carl can roll over, placing you down on the dirty path, leaning over your form. “Or I could take you hostage.” He suggests, a wicked grin on his face. So cute.

You don’t know if he’s being serious, but you don’t really care. That’s why you’re drawn to him. Because Carl is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to challenge you.

“That’s not happening,” You scoff, “You’re on thin ice, Grimes. Especially if you want this little stunt to repeat itself.”

The suggestion causes Carl to let up, rolling off you and allowing you some space. You sit once more, dusting some of the dirt off your white tank, pulling it back down to cover up your skin.

“So… you’d do it again?” He asks, watching as you stand, a hopeful expression on his face.

You move towards the building, where the bat is still stuck in splintered wood. It only takes one firm yank to pull it free, leaving a sizeable dent in somebody’s house.

So you’re not facing him when you answer, which is potentially a good thing, because you’re definitely blushing. “Maybe. Play your cards right.”

A sharp sound cuts through the commotion. That whistle you’ve grown to love, and Carl has grown to resent. To you, it means safety, someone to stand by. To him, it’s disaster.

Knowing you have to leave, that the Saviours are retreating, Carl backs off. He stands a few paces away from you, preparing for your sudden departure, mentally reminding himself of this unspoken divide between the pair of you.

Yet, you shoot him one more glance, an awkward little smile on your face. “Don’t get yourself killed.” You tell him, it likely being the most sincere string of words you’ve ever expressed to the boy.

He’ll take it.

He’ll take anything, at this point. The price of hatred was worth it, if this were the outcome.

So Carl let’s you leave, where you run back between the houses, deftly sneaking away to reunite with the Saviours before they can take their trucks and leave Alexandria. Sure, he probably should have backed up that hostage comment, but experiencing this again? That wasn’t something he could pass up.

Now was to make sure nobody found out.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #twd x you #carl grimes x you #the walking dead

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mucherbuncher · 3 months

Text

Daryl x Reader

daryl x reader fic

requested by my mutual

this is my first time actually writing a one shot on tumblr and honestly i’m so exited. i’m still tryna figure out this app bc i literally downloaded it feb. 7th so plz forgive me i’m just a girl. also ignore that none of the “i”s are capitalized i really don’t care.

HOW DO YALL CHECK THAT WORD COUNT??

no warnings other than talking about eating sun disgusting ass food

if i do a part two there’ll be sm!t 🫣

I drew into the dirt absentmindedly with my fingers, bored out of my goddamn mind while Daryl cooks a snake over the fire. I didn’t look at it, because as queasy as i already was from hunger i wasn’t gonna make it worse. I had already eaten a few worms yesterday, something i’d never thought i would’ve done. To be honest, it was Daryl’s idea.

I had been doing everything to stay by his side after the prison fell, including silently obeying him and following him around like a lost puppy. I probably could survive on my own, but having someone by my side made it way easier. I got lucky being stuck with him, at least in the survival sense. Emotionally, or even socially, he was on airplane mode. He barely spoke, barely even looked at me. I didn’t mind it so much for a day or two, but it’s about to be day four. I couldn’t take it anymore.

He used his dirty knife to cut the snake in half, then peeled the skin off. It sorta reminded me of those giant gummy worms that you could get at a candy store, except pink and charred with visible bones.

“Here.” He reached across the small fire to hand me it. I looked up in disgust, hesitantly reaching out to eat the… thing.

It was chewy, like a well done steak. It didn’t taste like that though. It tasted pretty earthy, almost like a bug or something. The closest thing i can compare it too was grasshopper flavored fish. Wow, so appetizing.

I ate my entire half, and ripping off a small piece of rib bone from the spine to clean my teeth. I stared into the fire, like Daryl did. I used the back of my hand to wipe my mouth, unfortunately only spreading more dirt onto my face. Daryl looked about the same.

“What are we doing?” I blurted out, my voice a little hoarse from not talking all day.

Daryl looked up from the fire, staring at me blankly. His eyes practically glowed that pretty steel blue color, and I already felt slightly unnerved from his stare.

“Are we even gonna try to look for anyone, or are we just gonna keep running everyday?” I continued on, my voice growing stronger as I felt more emotions setting in.

“No point.” He grunted after a few seconds of silence.

“But there is. We need the rest of the group, they could all be still alive, together, maybe.”

“Look around, do ya see anyone waitin for us?” He spat, his voice getting a little louder.

“Your a tracker, so track.” I hissed, my eyes narrowed as i felt more and more frustrated with this man.

“Fine. Get yer ass up.” Before I could even think or retort back, He grabbed his crossbow and started kicking dirt into our little fire.

“Daryl, it’s dark…” I muttered, suddenly feeling small at the way he’s acting so pissed.

“This whatchu want, right?” He grabs my arm and yanks me upwards, and I stumble a little before tearing my arm back.

“Stop. Stop it right now.” I stare into his eyes, clenching my jaw a little in anger.

He starts pacing, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He’s trying to hide his face from me.

“There ain’t no point… what if- what if they’re all gone? I can’t… i won’t…” He wipes his eyes with the back of his arm, and i realize, he’s fucking crying. I can handle children crying, even other girls. But when a grown man cries… it makes me want to start sobbing.

My heart sinks and i feel an awful twinge in my stomach. I shouldn’t have pushed him. Fuck me…

“Hey…” My mouth has gone dry, i’m not totally sure what to do here. With the fire gone, and only the moonlight to allow me to see his face, im struggling.

“S’ not… I don’t know what to do.” He chokes a little, and that was my final straw. I pull him in towards me, grabbing his huge tan arms gently. I take the back of his head and put it against my neck, rubbing his back gently. His hands fall limply at his sides as he gives up.

“S’ gonna be alright. We can start lookin tomorrow, alright? You’ve got me. I’m here.” I speak softly and slowly as i reassure him. I’m hoping i’m saying all the right things. He wraps his arms around my waist tightly, restricting my breathing a little.

I hold him there for a long time, rubbing his back slowly as he silent cries into my shoulder. It felt right, comforting him. I was good at it. He needed this badly, and i hoped my optimism would rub off on him.

I pull his head off my shoulder, cupping his face in my hands. They look tiny here, holding him like this. I wipe some of the tears off his pretty face with my thumbs. His eyes bore into the ground, not meeting mine. I knew he felt embarrassed, but it was just the two of us. I wasn’t going to tell a single soul, nobody could make me spill his secrets even through torture.

I brush away some of his greasy brown hair, kissing his forehead gently. His eyes snapped up to meet mine. Shit… was that too much? I force myself to keep a calm expression, gazing at his puffy red eyes.

“M’ gonna start the fire again, okay?” I say gently. He nods, taking a step back and sitting down on the ground.

I fumble the lighter a little in my hands as i grab the kindling, and a small flame peeks through. i slowly start adding more fuel, until a steady flame is going. I scoot back to sit next to Daryl again, gently guiding his body down until his head is resting on my lap.

“C’mere.”

His huge body weighs down on my thigh, but I honestly didn’t care at all. I brushed my fingers through his messy hair, careful to not tug on any knots as i did so. He looked sorta beautiful like this.

Wait what the fuck. My mind started racing. This man was easily forty years old, covered in dirt and sweat and walker blood. Id known him and treated him like a friend for nearly two years now, but now… I treated him as if he was glass. He probably felt like it, broken after standing strong against all the hardship he’s faced his whole life. I knew bits and pieces, how he depended on Merle since he couldn’t rely on his shitty dad. His mom has been gone since he was a child.

I needed to be here for him. He’s become my protector, but I, a young woman, cared for him in a way i hadn’t for anyone else in a long time.

His chest rose and fell peacefully, and I knew he was starting to fall asleep. There wasn’t much to protect us from the elements other than a small wool blanket we’d been sharing for the past few days. I grabbed my bag, and carefully moved his head off my thighs to rest on the bag instead. I stepped around his body and curled up against his chest, making myself little spoon. I grabbed his crossbow, curling that close to my body just in case. I felt his arm swing around me, pulling me just a bit closer than i already was.

“Ya okay here?” He asked, speaking softly into my ear.

“Mhm.” His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes, smiling just a little. What a funny man.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x female reader #daryl dixion x reader

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yulin-pop · 1 year

Text

⤷ ✧ Trust me?

Gender neutral

- order 75 | headcanons | Octavinelle

Note: I can’t swim and have drowned before (my older brother saved me)

Floyd Leech

Being in the water is pretty much what he’s always known. When he has to step out of the water and be a human for school, it was hard but he got use to it quickly even before Jade and Azul.

He kinda thought it would be the same for walking to swimming. But, you can’t swim? It was priceless. He knew you hated going into water and didn’t ever step close to the pool in Night Raven.

At some point he was getting bored and he reached for your ankle and pull you in but you straight up kicked him.

“Eh? Why did you kick me…” You couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or just asking a question but you just ran away.

After that he was curious. He just genuinely didn’t know why you didn’t like water and freaked out when he tried to pull you in that one time. Instead of asking directly like a normal person, he picked you up and threatened to throw you into the pool if you didn’t tell him why you don’t like water.

“Shrimpy, how come you don’t wanna swim with me?”

“Because I can’t swim and I can drown!! Please put me down now!”

And after that he would constantly ask you to join him in the water. He promises to not waterboard you on accident!!

If you end up trusting him, he just puts you on his shoulders so you still get air. But he finds it funny how you’re holding onto him for dear life while your whole body is shaking because you’re kinda putting your life in the hands of Floyd Leech.

He’s determined to show you that the water really isn’t scary, even with the possibility of drowning. Then again, what would he know about drowning?

Jade Leech

Also has the same thought process as Floyd but he figures out that some humans can’t swim after seeing a few kids sitting out for swimming class because they don’t know how.

He picks up on you staying far away from the pool even if your friends are inviting you in. In fact you try to skip swimming class almost everyday.

When you’re alone with him he starts to ask questions. Why can’t you swim? Why don’t you try to learn? What would happen if he just threw you in the pool without warning?

You’re scared for valid reasons and he’s just curious. He says that he could teach you how to swim if you really want to learn.

If you agree, he probably won’t teach you really because teaching a human how to swim as an eel won’t work.

He holds you in the water and might accidentally pull you under the water.

“Are you scared?”

“No not at all.”

“Oh, they perhaps you could be in your own for a bit.”

“No, please don’t let go!!”

You’re clinging onto him or otherwise you’d sink to the bottom.

Azul Ashengrotto

It makes sense but he just never thought about it. He had a hard time learning how to walk on land and he wasn’t the fastest swimmer either.

He’s not good with physical activity so he sits with you at the side of the pool unless he had to get in the water. It’s his natural habitat to be in water but it’s embarrassing to be in his octopus form and he’s not as fast as everyone else.

When he realized why you didn’t swim. He sorta felt bad since in chapter three he made you go under the sea even though you’re afraid of being under water.

If you go swimming with Azul, it’s probably safer than either of the twins.

If you were to join him; you wouldn’t have to worry about drowning since he just wouldn’t do that. He makes jokes though! Unlike with the twins, it’s just you two chilling.

He’s a bit slippery since he’s an octopus but he has a lot of tentacles to grab onto or to grab you with.

“I thought I almost lost you there…”

“Ow… You’re kinda squeezing me with your tentacles.”

He’s probably really squishy, I would just fall asleep hugging him.

#I’m coping #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #octavinelle

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sluttygallavich · 1 month

Note

Ian spits on mickeys hole and they both enjoy it 🤝

The first time it happens, it’s out of pure necessity.

They’ve just chased each other across half of South Side and up six flights of crumbling stairs, blood pumping and hearts racing. By the time they get to the mattress they have set up behind a half-collapsed wall near Ian’s makeshift training course they’re both practically out of their minds and completely desperate for it.

“Get the shit, Gallagher.”

Mickey already has his jeans pulled down to his knees and is looking back over his shoulder at him expectantly when the crushing realization hits.

Shit.

Mickey’s eyebrows furrow at Ian’s stricken expression. “The fuck, Gallagher. You didn’t come prepared?”

And no, actually, he hadn’t come prepared for Mickey to materialize in the middle of a busy street and crash his…whatever with Ned, and he sure as fuck hadn’t been planning on letting things with Ned go any further than a couple of drinks and maybe a hurried hand job if the old guy was really insistent. So no, he is in no way prepared for the situation he finds himself in now—ass naked but for his socks and rock hard, with his sorta boyfr– with Mickey’s perfect pale cheeks just begging to be spread.

He huffs, cheeks pinkening under Mickey’s accusatory stare.

“Get on your back, I’ll blow you instead.” Ian tries not to let on how disappointed he is, even as he suggests it, but it doesn’t seem to matter because Mickey makes no move to roll over. Instead, he bites at his bottom lip, considering.

“You gonna keep sticking it in that geriatric pedo?” he asks finally, voice gruff but eyes darting around, betraying his nerves.

And Ian’s first instinct is to roll his eyes and protest at that, but, well… yeah, okay.

His second instinct is to turn the question around and ask if Mickey’s going to keep sticking it in Angie Zago or whatever other neighbourhood slut is willing, but, well…

This is Mickey sort of trying, isn’t it? This is missed ya under the bleachers, and this is helping Ian train for West Point nearly every day since he’s been back, and this the mattress that “fell off the back of a truck” after Ian complained about the concrete floor fucking up his knees. This is following him today and beating the shit out of that geriatric pedo in the middle of the street because he was jealous but couldn’t just say it.

This is Mickey staking a claim, maybe.

“No,” Ian answers, heart racing at what he thinks might be happening—what he thinks Mickey might be proposing. And he wasn’t going to ask, but as he shuffles closer on the mattress, he finds that he just needs to know. He needs to hear it too. “Are you?”

Mickey snorts, turning his head back around so Ian can no longer see his face.

“Am I gonna stick my dick in that grandpa’s wrinkly old ass? Nah man, you don’t gotta worry about that.”

Ian reaches out then, just a single hand brushing lightly at Mickey’s hip, and he realizes it’s the first time they’ve touched since rushing up here, too frantic earlier to do anything but tear at their own clothes.

“Mick…”

And he must hear something in Ian’s voice then, because when Mickey speaks again the derisiveness of a moment before is gone. He just sounds desperate again. Pleading, even.

“C’mon, Ian, just get in me.”

And it’s not exactly an answer, is it? But it’s Ian instead of Gallagher, and it’s the vulnerability he can feel rolling off Mickey in this moment, and it’s trust, really. And Ian finds that’s good enough for now.

He grips Mickey’s ass with both hands and relishes in the heavy exhale it pulls from him, almost like Mickey had been holding his breath. Like relief. And Ian feels it too. So strongly he’s almost faint with it. He spreads Mickey wide and pets at his hole with his thumb, mouth falling open as he watches it flutter and try to pull him in.

“Fuck, Mick,” he groans. He feels even more wild than he did a few minutes ago. “Still don’t have any lube though.”

Mickey’s head drops down between his shoulders as Ian presses just the tip of his thumb inside him, dry.

“Just spit on it, Gallagher, Jesus.”

And Ian feels like he’s been kicked in the back, all the air rushing out of his lungs at once.

“Are– are you sure?”

“Holy fuck, yes, yes, I’m sure,” Mickey huffs. “You need to see it in fuckin’ writing or what?”

Ian doesn’t react to that, too used to Mickey’s impatience and bluster for it to faze him anymore and still far too preoccupied with Mickey’s clenching hole and the prospect of covering it in his spit, which suddenly seems like the hottest thing he’s ever considered.

Mickey’s spit-slicked hole and Ian’s bare cock sinking into it. Fuck. He prays he lasts longer than two sad pumps.

He knees at Mickey’s legs and gets him to spread them wider, running his nails up Mickey’s back before forcing his upper body down to the mattress, leaving just Mickey’s ass sticking up in the air for Ian to do with as he pleases. He gathers as much saliva in his mouth as he can and leans closer, spreading Mickey’s cheeks again and spitting directly on his puckered rim, the sound loud and obscene in the quiet of the abandoned rubble.

“Oh fuck…” Ian whispers, immediately dragging his thumb through the warm spit and pushing into Mickey’s hole. “Oh fuck, Mick.”

Mickey just groans, pushing back against Ian’s hands, encouraging more.

Ian spits again, this time slowly pushing two fingers into Mickey’s heat, just to the first knuckles, just to see, but Mickey’s demand for more has him quickly pushing in the rest of the way, stretching and fucking him open until his hole is gaping, just a little, and fuck, what if he spit right inside of him?

He chokes off a moan at the thought and continues getting Mickey prepped, but once the idea has been raised in his mind it latches on and he can’t let it go.

Mickey’s pushing back against his fingers, three buried instead him now. “C’mon, Gallagher, while we’re still young,” he grouses, though the effect is somewhat lessened by how fucked out he sounds.

Ian reaches a hand around Mickey’s compact body and presents it palm up and slightly cupped in front of Mickey’s face.

“You too,” Ian manages to get out. “Spit.”

Mickey attempts a laugh, but now that Ian’s nailing his prostate with every other thrust of his fingers it sounds more like it’s been punched out him.

“You’re a freak, Gallagher.” But he doesn’t hesitate to do as he’s told, and now Ian’s using Mickey’s spit to slick up his own cock and shit, maybe he won’t even make it to two sad pumps.

He squeezes at the head of his cock, clear beads gathering at the tip, and Ian’s usually pretty impressive self-control immediately snaps. He pulls his fingers out of Mickey’s ass and spits directly into his empty hole. Mickey lets out a breathy “Fuck,”and it’s all somehow even hotter than Ian was just imagining.

“Ready?” he can’t help but ask, dragging his throbbing cock through the mess he’s made, his own precum only adding to the wet slick. He half expects another snarky response, and when he doesn’t get one, he knows Mickey is just as a far gone as he is.

“Yeah, ready, yes,” Mickey babbles. “Fuck yes…”

Ian keeps a steady grip on Mickey’s hip, his other hand slowly guiding himself inside, and shit it’s tight. And hot. It’s hot and tight and so, so much that Ian swears his vision darkens at the edges a little bit. He remembers then to breathe at the same time that Mickey moans—moans! Mickey never moans!—and tries to press back against him. There’s more resistance than Ian’s used to, but the feeling of being inside Mickey with nothing between them more than makes up for the lack of lube.

Ian can’t look away from where they’re connected, skin to skin. He’s practically panting like a dog, his tongue feeling parched and dry, but he gathers as much saliva as he can and spits one last time, watching it pool around where his shaft disappears into the tight ring of Mickey’s hole before pressing the rest of the way in.

“Shit, Gallagher, need you to move.”

Ian’s let himself slump forward across Mickey’s back, his forehead pressing between his shoulder blades.

“Need…a minute,” he breathes into Mickey’s skin, eyes squeezed shut. “Jesus Mick, you feel so fucking tight. Not gonna last.”

Never one to be kept waiting, Mickey starts up a slow roll of his hips. “Don’t worry, Firecrotch,” he says, rocking back and forth on Ian’s cock. “Ain’t gonna last either. Better make the next thirty seconds count.”

Ian huffs out a laugh and pushes himself up off Mickey’s back so he can piston into the older boy the way he knows he likes. His belly swoops at the way his bare cock looks drilling into Mickey, and truthfully, it’s not much more than a minute or two later when he feels that familiar tingling in his balls that lets him know he’s about to bust. And shit, he hasn’t really thought this far ahead. Should he pull out? Is Mickey going to let him—

“Oh fuck. Mick, I’m gonna– Shit, I’m–“ He’s the one babbling now. He feels panicked, knowing the clock is quickly running down. Finally, he manages a complete thought. “Mickey, where should I come?”

Mickey is working his own cock furiously in his fist, his breathing labored around his moans. Ian’s never heard him be this vocal. His balls are drawing up at the sound of Mickey’s pleasure, but still Mickey hasn’t given him an answer.

“Mick, please…oh god, oh fuck…where should I–“

“Come inside me.”

“Oh god…”

Ian only hears a ringing in his ears after that. Without thinking he wraps his arms around Mickey’s torso and hauls him up so that his back is pressed firm against Ian’s chest. He holds him tight and buries his face in Mickey’s neck as his release crashes through him, lighting up every inch of his skin that’s connected to Mickey’s, that’s in Mickey.

Dimly he’s aware of Mickey crying out and shuddering around him, his head tipping back to rest against Ian’s, and he’s struck, suddenly, by the intimacy of it all—they’ve never been closer, he thinks—before they’re both pitching forward and collapsing together, Ian slipping from Mickey’s body as they come to settle next to each other on their sides.

They’re both quiet, save for their ragged breathing, as they slowly come down from their highs. Mickey’s shirt is still on, but Ian watches his back rise and fall, admires the faint freckles on his exposed shoulder, follows a bead of sweat meandering down Mickey’s neck from his hairline and has to restrain himself from licking the rivulet it leaves in its wake.

Eventually his gaze drifts lower, and despite coming harder than he ever has in his life less than two minutes ago, he’s hit with an intense wave of emotion—arousal, definitely, but something else too—that has his dick twitching and his pulse kicking right back up. It’s a mess of cum and sweat and spit, and it should be gross, maybe, but all Ian can think is that it’s them. He closes his eyes and smiles.

The first time it happens, it’s the start of something new.

#well this one really got away from me 😅#prompt fill #sorry it took me 100 years to write something #i am posting blindly without rereading because 😳🙈#gallavich #smut #ian x mickey #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #fanfic #shameless

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artbyblastweave · 2 years

Text

I’m well and settled on the opinion that Steven Universe had to seriously stack the deck in its own favor to prevent the narrative from ending with anyone getting guillotined. I mean, Steven conveniently having a foot in the door with the diamonds because he turned out to be related, sure, but it goes into the characterization and worldbuilding, too.

Rather than cackling dictators, first off, The Diamonds had to be emotionally-arrested overgrown children; the dynamic between them and Pink was always, with context, less of a parent-child thing and more like three twelve-year-olds lecturing an eight-year-old on adult responsibility, they’re fundamentally aping a notion of the right way to be and I think it’s a mistake to view them as fully-realized people at the point where Steven finds them. Gem society, too, is less of a society, with all its messy moving parts, and more of a sanitized dollhouse representation of a society that’s only just starting to morph into the real deal via the rebellion. There’s no genuinely complicated politics to untangle; just gems meaninglessly play-acting at politics. And, crucially, nobody is getting anything out of any of it- gems are a needless society, they expand endlessly because they.... don’t not do that, there’s no material incentive to behave the way they do, no economic reality Steven has to counter in order to make the horror stop. All he has to do is convince three emotional runts to stop being awful.

Now, where I differ in my thinking, I think, is that in contorting the worldbuilding to make sure that the diamond redemption wasn’t something patently insane, they really hit upon an incredibly compelling science-fiction set-up. Three Elder Gods playing “It’s A Good Life” with a tea-party sham of a civilization full of individuals who nonetheless feel real pain, Three Elder Gods who cause harm, and lots of it, but mainly through their lack of moral context and lack of understanding of what even constitutes harm, Three Elder Gods whom you, a puny human, actually have some pretty potent emotional leverage over but no way to overpower if it comes to a fight? A set-up where part of the horror is how easy it would be to pinpoint the source of the horror and make it stop? That’s fucking dynamite! I’d watch five whole seasons of just that! Hell, even in canon it doesn’t even stop- two years later and Steven is still kinda trying to deal with the fact that the Diamond’s good behavior is kinda-sorta dependent on his willingness to keep dealing with them and he has no real way to be sure any of it is sticking! There’s no actual end in sight! There’s no clean resolution! It’s messy and it’s harrowing and it’s specifically because culpability and morality and ethics and all of that is so goddamn sticky when you’re a consequentialist trying to play ball with super-advanced childlike Von Neuman Machines!

#steven universe #thoughts #meta #white diamond #blue diamond #yellow diamond #su #su meta #steven universe meta

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caffeiiine · 4 months

Note

I read the tags on your Kunikida post… go ahead and explain, my liege

JUST SAW THIS SOMEHOW ABYWAYS TYYY

OKAY so probably going into detail about how kunikida can be considered passively suicidal since i have the most coherent thoughts on that aand warnings for stuff of that nature under the cut :D + length

[also small disclaimer, i have been procrastinating reading dazais entrance exam and so far have only seen the anime adaptation which apparently left a ton of stuff out so feel free to correct me on inaccurate details and/or missed examples or just downright incorrect information]

[note: idk if passive is the correct term bc i was thinking about it and hes not exactly like oh i hope this kills me yk, so whatever that term is lmk <3]

This stuff also sorta ties in with his ideals and their potential self destructive-ness. they tend to cause him to either negligently often risk his life with there being an apparent “other way”, or just outright risk his life with barely a second thought for his ideals.

so kunikida has very strong morals and that’s the core of his character. the main ideals referenced in the show being his infamous “ideal woman”, “how to make dazai ideal”, and the ideal that basically tells him to save people. [i forgot what that one is referred to as]. If we’re talking timeline wise i think one of the first examples of his ideals causing him to negligently risk his life would be in Dazais Entrance Exam, or The Azure Messenger arc if you’re an anime watcher.

First example off the top of my head in dazais entrance exam would be when him and Dazai first see the hostages, specifically the ones in the room

after the gas came down dazai has to actually wrestle kunikida away from the room because otherwise hes gonna die. kunikida repeatedly shouts about how “people shouldn’t die like this”. This might be a bit of a tangent but later on in the episode he remarks how he “may as well ahev set the bomb off himself” when Dazai asks about Rokuzou’s dad, implying he blames himself for Rokuzou’s dad’s death. This is of itself isn’t enough for me to say “oh yeah he’s passively suicidal” so moving on to the main manga where there are several other instances of his tendencies to throw himself directly in harms way.

[there may be examples before this i just skipped to chapter 40] and starting off strong we have the thing with Aya. This could be written up to circumstance but he had the opportunity to avoid death himself so im counting it. he’s basically hugging death. that’s all i have to say for this.

of course he ends up surviving it because of deus ex machina yosano. After the fact, Aya asks him what he would’ve done if Yosano wasn’t there. To which he replies basically he would’ve done the same thing he just did except died and basically would have been fine with the outcome as long as she didn’t die in front of him. [he would’ve been dead as well and not had to deal with the guilt] i should point out as well, he does this because of his ideals. he specifically cites his ideals around these parts usually. The not letting anybody die before his eyes is one of ideals and the most common one he uses.

[im pulling that from the fact he had no backup plans or anything to actually stop the bomb aside from Yosano, since his words could imply he would’ve tried to save Aya. and the guy with the bombs was using the fact Kunikida holds his ideals very close to him, taht he wouldn’t have allowed Aya to die if he could’ve prevented it.]

aaand i think our last example and best example for tonight

context for the scene: they’re in the getaway helicopter and tecchou is trying to take it down via his sword and Kunikida decides to take matters into his own hands and take down Tecchou. First off, HE DID NOT HAVE TO, CHUUYA IS RIGHT. THERE. HE LITERALLY SHOT TECCHOU WITH GRAVITY BULLETS EARLIER.

HE DID NOT HAVE TO RISK HIMSELF BUT HE DID. also additional context, in this arc and the previous arcs, he’s been faced with situation after situation where his ideals have failed him and he’s been unable to exercise them and save the people he thinks he should.

point being, he feels like complete shit! he probably is thinking like if he should do anything then, it should be he makes sure he gets his friends out of there. regardless of whether he’s dead or alive because he jumps out of the plane and full body tackles tecchou while being in direct contact with fucking chuuya.

chuuya “has to stay out of the fights and arcs half the time because he’s too good at his job” nakahara.

chuuya “just shot tecchou and did a decent job at keeping him back a few pages before” nakahara. you see my point.

oh and then he just attempts to blow the both of them up.

he does not care for his life at all here. not one bit. also he did not need to blow the both of them up. he could’ve made a fucking stun gun or anything else that wouldn’t KILL the BOTH of them??

my whole point is he does not care for his life here and it’s gets worse the more you progress through the manga.

anyways anyways ending off, kunikida repeatedly puts his life in danger either for his ideals or neglectfully and/or without need. this has been a ramble. this man is not okay.

also kinda funny is he’s partners with dazai of all people, actively suicidal princess bungou himself. i really enjoy their differences and how similarly different they are.

^ not actually related to anything but i almost started laughing so hard with my family in the room at this piece, junichiro looks so concerned

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bunchesofoats · 1 year

Text

When The Lights Go Out.

Feat — Ajax Petropolus x Nevermore!Reader

Contains — No Established Relationship, Mutual Pining, Besties to Lovers (Sorta Technically Yes but Not Official), Teen Substance Use, Teen Drinking, Those Stereotypical American Style Parties You See With The Red Solo Cups (Except Classier?), also Drunk Confessions

Length — ~3.5k words

Notes — These fics just keep getting longer haha ALSO! For the sake of my personal plot purposes, Rowan does not d*e at the Harvest Festival. As far as we’re concerned, it didn’t happen. ALSO! You should all know me by now: My work is done at 3 am, therefore it’s not proofread. Amen.

“You have to come to the Nightshades Harvest Party!”

You rolled your eyes at Kent’s request. Leave it to him to make the secret school society not so secret in the middle of the school quad. Divina gave him a small punch to his side before looking back at you expectantly from across the table bench.

“All I’m saying is, the last person who was a downer got kicked out. Now look at him,” Kent gave an obvious look to Rowan Laslow, who was making his way out of the overgrowing quad population due to lunch hour.

“What he’s trying to say is, you’re practically a part of the Nightshades anyway. You know the code, who’s in it, where we’re located. Everything!” Divina explained. “Plus, we’re down a member anyway.”

“Lovely to know I’m Rowan Laslow’s replacement.” You snorted. You had nothing against the guy, but the twins were really not selling the idea to you at all. In fact, you didn’t even want to go to the Jericho Harvest Festival but attendance was mandatory.

“If it was Ajax asking then you’d say yes.” Kent crossed his arms, fake pouting at you. You flicked a piece of your lunch at him, hitting him directly between his eyes. He winced, holding the bridge of his nose as Divina snickered.

“Because Ajax is my best friend, and I know he wouldn’t tell me dumb stuff to get me to go.”

“Go where?” You heard a familiar voice call behind you. Turning to find Ajax, you moved your bag for him to sit next to you.

“Nowhere. Just a totally secret school society party that you would know nothing about.” You shrugged nonchalant as he sat down with you. He let out a small scoff with a smile. The smile you had been in love with for the past 6 months despite you knowing him for over 2 years.

“Technically you’re not supposed to know about it, but I guess people can’t keep their mouths shut.” Divina immediately pointed a finger at Kent who immediately pointed one back at her.

“Says the guy who can’t keep his mouth shut either, Mr. I Know When I’m High.” You mocked him, remembering the time he admitted he was in the Nightshades to you after a particularly long session of hotboxing Xavier’s shed before he repurposed it as his own.

“As far as we’re concerned, you practically pledged that night. He was not making it back to his dorm in one piece under Principal Weems radar.” Divina raised her hands in defeat.

“If I go, will you guys stop bugging me about being in the ever so definitely-totally-super-secret-definitely-not-notorious-amongst-half-the-student-body Nightshades?” You dramatically brought the back of your hand to your forehead in fake woe. Ajax took the opportunity to steal a bit of your food, which had you quickly swat away his hand away.

“Yeah, yeah. All that and more, just come to the party. It’ll be fun, I promise.” Ajax wrapped an arm around you reassuringly, to which you just rolled your eyes before reluctantly nodding. In that moment, you could’ve sworn you saw Divina slip Kent $10 underneath the table. You couldn’t tell though, because your food was stolen yet again.

Harvest Festival.

It wasn’t a particularly cold evening in Jericho, not with all the people gathered into one area. The sounds of carnival games and buzz from normies and outcasts alike filled the air. Along with the incredibly delicious scent of cotton candy, which you definitely wanted to get a grab of when you could.

“We have to try this out next, please!” Ajax was practically dragging you to each game in attempts to try them all. The “please” was just something his mothers taught him to add to every sentence at this point with how much he was pleading. You’d have to tell them both how annoying he was next Parents Weekend.

“Jax, please, I cannot carry another giant stuffed animal. We’re gonna have to give these to Enid’s collection at this point.” You were muffled underneath the mounds of faux fur in your arms. It was hard to say no with Ajax holding your wrist so carefully despite him pulling you to another booth, especially since you were pretty much blind with all the prizes you had gotten.

He finally stopped at a booth that seemed to his liking, and you managed to find a nice spot on the ground for all your stuffed wonders to watch. The booth was definitely haphazardly thrown together, you could tell it was a scam.

“Hit three balloons in a row and you get a prize!”

You looked at Ajax, brow raised as he excitedly handed the game master his money. Your lips tugging into a downward smile, he was unbelievably dense but he also happened to be the guy you had a crush on. So who was really in their right mind here?

“Easy win, I got this!” He picked up the darts in front of him. They were absolutely sanded down to be duller than a pencil, but who was gonna notice with all the commotion going on. You watched as he threw each one by one into the 3 by 3 board holding balloons that held less than enough air to be popped. Each of them ricocheting off or completely missing the balloons.

“Nice try, young man. How about your partner over here has a go instead?” The game master wiggled his eyebrows. Your eyes widened as he said that, immediately you tried to stammer out a no but words couldn’t escape your mouth.

“Hell yeah!” Ajax handed him another $3 before pulling you close to him. Your head spun at the situation, it wasn’t like you two hadn’t made close contact before. He was constantly clingy with all his friends. Even Xavier wasn’t safe from him and he was Nevermore’s self proclaimed tortured artist. The “partner” thing definitely had you in for a loop, and Ajax didn’t even deny it.

“You know what to do, hit three to get a prize.”

You slowly picked up a dart from the table, trying hard not to think about Ajax’s hands resting on your shoulders as he cheered you on. You knew why most people didn’t win these, and it was because they never thought to throw hard enough thinking it was easy. Either that or they just couldn’t aim correctly, and you were definitely part of the latter. It’s why Xavier couldn’t let you join the Archery club, something about being a hazard to society. As far as you were concerned, most outcasts were.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the balloons and willing your wrist to move. You pinpointed as best as you could and threw haphazardly, somehow making two in a row. You could feel Ajax hold his breath as his grip on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly. You took another deep breath, aiming for the last balloon in the top right. You threw the dart, eyes closing as the dart left your fingers, awaiting the disappointing sound of the metal hitting the cork wall. It never came.

Your ears were filled with a satisfying pop, an exciting cheer of Ajax behind you, and the game master sputtering to himself. You opened your eyes, seeing your throw had made its mark. You turned to Ajax beaming, he wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up in excitement. You yelped as he did, but a laugh soon replaced it.

“Alright, lovebirds, pick your prize.” The game master grit his teeth, still putting on a fake smile. You looked to Ajax expectantly, seeing what he wanted. He proceeded to turn you back around, letting you look at the prizes yourself.

“You won, fair and square. Your choice.” He whispered into your ear, your thoughts honing into his voice over the loud carnival sounds. It sent a shiver up your spine that you had to shake off. Scanning the prizes carefully, you noticed a giant snake plushie hiding amongst the large bunnies and usual game prizes. You eagerly pointed to it, and the game master begrudgingly handed it over. You thanked the man despite his attempts at scowling at you both.

“Why would you need that? You have a better one right here!” Ajax pout, one of his snakes wriggling it’s way out of his cap. You laughed before giving the small reptile a boop on its head, which had it going back into its spot in the darkness of his beanie.

“Well, this one is less likely to stone me.” You held the stuffed animal close. Ajax picked up the other stuffed prizes he had won with a sigh.

“You know I would never purposefully try to stone you.” Ajax mumbled sadly behind his stuffies, to which you grabbed his hand gently.

“I know you wouldn’t,” You reassured him. “Now do you want to attend the Nightshades party tonight or not? You did a lot of convincing just to get me to go so I’d hate to miss it.” You showed him your phone screen which lit up the time.

“Oh, shit! We’re gonna be late, Bianca’s gonna have my head for this one.” Ajax started pushing his way through the crowds. You quickly followed suit, trying to not draw too much attention. It definitely seemed like Ajax was dragging you to another game though, a lot of your classmates wide eyed at all your prizes. You spotted Enid along the way out, and quickly pulled Ajax’s hoodie to prevent him from running further.

“Enid, hey, these are for you!” Ajax understood, pouring the mass amounts of aliens and bunnie and other toys he had won into her arms. You kept your prize wrapped around your neck, wanting to keep that one for yourself.

“What?” She gasped as she had to hand Wednesday her funnel cake, the ravenette begrudgingly taking it.

“See you!” Your voice was caught in the wind as Ajax had grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he pulled you along. It really didn’t matter if you two were late, but Ajax always liked being early to snag some of the snacks Yoko made before everyone else could. You were definitely sure it was for when he needed munchies.

Nightshades Library.

Snap, snap!

The Edgar Allen Poe statue opened itself to you and Ajax, the metal creaking itself into placed with a final thud of the open door. Ajax allowed you in first, before stepping in himself. The doorway closed behind you two with another thud, and your senses began to fill with light music. You squinted in the darkness, seeing the dim lighting of the Nightshades library at the bottom of the steps. Slowly making your way down, you were met with all your friends already talking and eating and dancing. You two were definitely late.

“Well, well. Where were you two lovebirds?” Yoko had noticed you two first as she was closest to the stairs by the makeshift bar already preparing a few drinks.

“Someone lost track of the time because he was too excited by normie games.” You raised your hand to point at Ajax, not realizing you were still holding his hand. Immediately you slipped your hand from his, warmth enveloping your face. He took that as his cue to leave, grabbing a few snacks from Yoko and saying hello before making his way to Xavier.

“He still hasn’t picked up on it, has he?” She took a sip of her Bloody Mary, and you knew that absolutely wasn’t tomato juice filling it.

“Nope,” You grabbed a pretzel from the snack bowls, making yourself comfortable on the barstool in front of her. “But I don’t mind, it’s not like I want him to know anyway.”

“Gods, you both are dense.” You heard Kent’s voice pull up next to you.

“Honestly, Y/N, have you considered he likes you too?” And there was Divina in the other seat. Great, now you were surrounded. You huffed jokingly before greeting the two. Thankful you didn’t need to see an optometrist from how much you rolled your eyes at their idiotic quips.

“Yoko, make me a glass of whatever. I’m gonna need something if these two keep pestering me tonight.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. Kent exaggerated a gasp, mouth agape with eyes wide as if you were accusing him. You attempted to flick the pretzel you were holding at him, but unfortunately he had expected it.

“You don’t see me pestering you about the snake plushie around your neck, but please, keep accusing me.” Divina took a sip of her drink. You looked down at the stuffed prize, removing it from your neck before setting it upon the table with a boop on its nose. You smiled, remembering how Ajax had cheered you on and held you close and picked you up.

“Long Island Iced Tea.” Yoko set down a tall glass in front of you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked at the drink before looking at her.

“You really just threw everything in here, didn’t you?” You took a sip, feeling the alcohol down your throat.

“I emphasize amateur when I say I’m a mixologist, don’t I?” She shrugged. “Now tell us about this, did he win it for you?” She poked it with a stirring stick.

“Leave Gerald alone, and no, I won it!” You shooed the stick away. All three of them winced at the name.

“Definitely seems like there’s a lot more to it than that.” Divina giggled. “Also, Gerald is a terrible name. Please pick a new one.”

“Well…” You remembered Ajax’s apathy to the game master calling you his partner, either that or he wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t deny you were, though. Thinking about it, he probably really did seem like your boyfriend to onlookers. Holding your hand 24/7, dragging you to booths, winning you prizes, not correcting the game master, the works. You just wish it were real.

You sighed deeply before taking a big swig of your drink, not caring for the burn it left. Kent and Divina gave each other a look before lifting you from your chair.

“You are going to be going through these way too quickly if we don’t do something about it.” Kent took your now empty cup away from you before handing it to Yoko. The latter stuck her tongue out at the boy before sticking it in a bin filled with other cups.

“Why don’t we get your mind off things?” Divina hummed. “How about a dance?” She spun you onto the dance floor. You couldn’t tell if you were already feeling the buzz of the alcohol or if you genuinely wanted to dance, but you swayed along to the music anyway. Bianca noticing your presence, spun to dance with you as well. It was an easy rhythm to get lost into, and you hate to admit Ajax was right about the party being fun.

The night went on for awhile, you kept switching between drinking and dancing and talking. It wasn’t very long before you were drunk, Yoko had to cut you off because you could not get back to your dorm like this. She was with you this time on the dance floor, vibing to the song that was on. You couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes on you. Twisting to the beat, you turn to see Ajax eyeing you from his spot on the couch with Xavier. You practically hadn’t seen him all night, which was odd considering he’d usually dance as well. He sat with his legs open comfortably, an arm resting upon his leg as the other was brought up to take a hit of his joint. He then handed it to Xavier before puffing out the smoke in fancy rings. Maybe it was you or maybe it was the alcohol talking but he looked, to say the least, hot.

“Jax!” You called out to him from your spot on the floor. His attention turned from his conversation to you, eyes softening as his gaze met yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and well, fuck it. You were making your way over to him. Not like you could control much of your movements anyway, your brain and body were on two different hemispheres. Both working opposite of each other, but definitely somehow working because you slumped down next to Ajax.

“You seem to be having fun.” He hummed, inviting you with an open arm. He rested it around your shoulder, pulling you close as you leaned into him exhausted from dancing.

“Are you, Jax?” You reached up to hold his face with your hand. The position incredibly intimate as his face was mere centimeters from your own. For a moment, there was an unrecognizable look in his eyes. He pulled away slightly, letting out an awkward cough. Your expression twisted into a pout.

“Are you not enjoying yourself?” You tilted your head. His lips tugged into a downward smile, shaking his head no.

“I am having fun, just worried about you. Seems like you’ve had too much to drink.” Removing his arm from your shoulder, he adjusted himself to face you. You whined at the loss of contact, but he suddenly cupped your face within both his hands. Your heart skipping another beat as you stared into his mesmerizing eyes.

“You’re a bit warm, I’m going to get you some water.” You leaned your head against the back of the couch as he pulled away from you. Closing your eyes, you let your thoughts take over. Drowning out the noise, you indeed did feel warm. Had it really been the alcohol or had it been Ajax’s proximity? It was getting harder and harder to deny that you loved him more than you thought you did.

“Here,” A hand lifted your head carefully as a cold glass was brought to your lips. Your eyes fluttered open, remembering where you were. Ajax held the cup as you took sips, feeling the water begin to cool you off. He set the glass down on the table before turning his attention back to you.

“I’m thinking I should get you back to your dorm, let’s call it a night.” You could only nod your head in approval, not wanting your words to betray you. Every nerve in your body concentrated on his skin on yours, lifting you from your spot on the couch.

“I’m gonna get Y/N to back to the dorms, they’ve had too much I think.” You could only hum goodbye with a wave to your friends as Ajax dragged you up the steps. It wasn’t particularly hard to get to your dorm, but man, were you exhausted. The hard part was getting you into your bed.

“Jax, have I ever told you how much I love you?” You murmured as he was adjusting your head on your pillow. It was dim in your room, but you could see the color in his face shift. You never used such strong words like ‘love’ around him, and especially not about him. It was always “I love this ice cream” or “Jax, you’re my best friend but you’re a dumbass.” never “I love you” which surprised him.

“You’ve had too much to drink, Y/N. You’re not thinking straight.” He pulled the blanket over your figure. You grabbed the bottom of his jacket, stopping him in his tracks.

“No, I really love you.” You hiccuped. “You’re so sweet, and caring, even though you can be so dense. You always do that thing when you wrap your arm around my shoulder and give it a squeeze when you greet me that makes my heart flutter. You also have the prettiest eyes ever, so warm like I can get lost in them. I have to tell your moms how much of a good son they raised. They’re so cool for that.” If you were sober, none of these thoughts would have been vocalized, but clearly you weren’t.

Ajax stopped momentarily before reaching for your hand, removing it from his jacket and returning it to your side. He attempted to pull away, but you kept your grip on his.

“Jax, stay with me please.” You pleaded. He smiled before sitting at the side of your bed, leaning to make sure your temperature wasn’t too high with the back of his other hand.

“Why won’t you say anything back?” You breathed out, head starting to spin. The room was dim and only the moonlight illuminated you two.

“Because you are not in your right mind right now, and as much as I love you back, this should not be how this happens.” He looked at you solemnly. It was undeniable that he loved you back, but he’d rather have heard it when you were ready, not when alcohol had consumed you.

“Now, get some rest.” He gave you a small forehead kiss, you could even feel one of his snakes give you one as well. You nodded, half paying attention as you drifted off. Ajax carefully leaning every now and then to adjust your blanket or make sure you weren’t too hot.

“Jax?” You called out, to which he hummed in response.

“I never got cotton candy at the Harvest Festival.”

#ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus #wednesday netflix #wednesday (2022)#georgie farmer #ajax petropolus imagine #ajax petropolus one shot

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pedgito · 1 year

Note

How abouttttt edging Tom until he's pouty and crying

author’s note: this is purely self indulgence. i tried to mimic some of tom’s dialect in my prose without going too cornish, so i hope it isn’t too terrible. i’m so horribly american that i didn’t want to butcher the shit out of it lol. anyways, love tom grant, he’s supreme boyfriend material.

cw: 18+ (minors dni) strangers to lovers, meet-cutes, cooking for each other, oral (m receiving), edging (to tom), grinding over clothes (sorta), talks about past relationships/cheating (on both of them), tom is a sweetie, if i missed anything lmk

word count: 4.7k

You meet him by chance, out at the market for your daily errands. He’s always dressed in his work uniform, seemingly jumping straight from work to grab a few things for the night or the rest of his week, arms always full of items because he refuses to grab a basket and he’ll pile them high until the food is toppling to the floor. He’s stubborn, you can see it in his face as he squats down to pick up the unlucky can of vegetables that crashes against the tile, denting the corner.

You don’t introduce yourself the first time, grabbing the can and handing it back to him with a smile—he looks a little dejected, pouting at the kind gesture but mumbling a quiet thanks, regardless.

But, you see him everyday for a few weeks and suddenly you’re wondering how someone you’ve never met can be so interesting. He’s kind to the people stocking the shelves, the woman at the counter, but he doesn’t speak a word to you.

That’s why, after a long, dreadful three weeks of tense eye contact and awkward encounters, you finally take that plunge.

He’s reaching for the same box of cereal as you, caught up in his own thoughts so much that he doesn’t even realize you are leaning down beside him—you try to stumble out an apology but it dies on your lips.

“Those are your favorite?” He asks curiously, grabbing the box with ease and handing it over. You stall for a moment, wondering if you’d imagined him talking to you—he could’ve been talking to someone behind you, anyone but you. His eyes are locked on you when you glance up.

“How’d you know?” You ask, clutching the box to your chest with a kind nod. It was the last one.

“You’ve grabbed the same box every Monday,” He notes, pointing at the box of cereal, “but—never any milk?”

You snort a soft laugh, being caught up in your own weird ways of eating. He didn’t seem like he was judging, but it was something he couldn’t help but notice.

“Soggy cereal makes me ill at the thought of it.” You confess, “plus, it’s so much better when you can just eat it by the handful.”

He smiles wide, tongue poking through his teeth slightly.

“I’m Tom,” He introduces himself, “consider that last box an apology for being an ass to you the past few weeks.”

“Thank you,” You reply sweetly, patting the box lightly, “though, I definitely touched it first. I would’ve pried it from your hands if it came down to that.”

Tom laughs, shifting the weight of his groceries in his arms. And like clockwork, a can falls to the floor. You can’t help but take a small jab at him as you reach for it.

“Are you allergic to the baskets?” You ask playfully, “It would squash this whole ‘feeling too awkward to apologize’ when I have to pick up the stuff that you drop.”

Tom shakes his head slightly, a weak and unintelligible answer.

“Unless you’re doing it on purpose.” You suspect.

It had taken Tom a while to get over Ruth, forgive her, allow himself to rid his trailer of her things and move on. The only thing he hadn’t managed was allowing himself to return back to normalcy, talk to his friends, meet a nice girl—when Tom isn’t working, he’s home, unless he’s here and sometimes, the trips were unnecessary, just an innocent hope that he might run into you. But, his nerves constantly got the better of him, the words choking up in his throat. He wasn’t sure why today was different, but it was.

And while he was on that high, he takes a chance before his mind tries to talk him out of it.

“You’ve caught me,” He admits humorously, “there’s probably better ways to ask someone on a date, but uh—“

“Loads,” You interrupt with a hoaky smile, “but lucky for you, I’m interested.”

“Really?” He perks up instantly, nearly dropping his groceries in one giant pile. “Oh, well um—I didn’t think I’d get this far—“

You laugh at his honesty, pointing at his jacket pocket wearily, noting the outline of his phone, “Mind if I—“ He nods, angling his hip toward you to grab it. He rambled off his lock code without question and you entered your information swiftly before returning it back to him.

“I’m a bit rushed but call me later?”

“Uh, yeah—yes, I will.”

He does, which isn’t much of a surprise. You’d been anxious about the call since you left the store, wondering when was the last thing you were this caught up over a boy you knew nothing about. He called you that night, your name falling from his mouth like velvet—he sounds more relaxed, less wound up. You weren’t sure how stressful his job was, or what his life was like, but it’s a difference from the man you had ran into earlier.

“Are you opposed to a home-cooked meal?” He asks, straight to the point. You huff slightly, debating on the question to torture him slightly, the silence lingering.

“Seems a little forward, yeah?” You tease, laughing floating through the receiver and making him smile on the other end. “It’s fine, Tom. I really don’t mind.”

“You sure?” He asks for reassurance.

After Ruth, he doubted almost everything he did—wondering if he was doing too much, or not enough. It was never good enough.

“If I’m being honest, a home-cooked meal sounds much better than dressing up and going out to a fancy place to eat.”

“As if I could afford fine dining on my salary.” Tom jokes, settling into a sense of comfort in the conversation, a lull that felt natural. “But yes—I’m an excellent cook, so you have nothing to worry over.”

“I’m putting my life in your hands, Tom.” You tell him carefully, though the affection is still there. “Don’t be the first boy to put me in the hospital with food poisoning. I’ll never be able to forgive you for that.”

“Fucks sake—I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

The curse sounds too dirty falling from his mouth, tarnishing his rather innocent, boyish looks.

“What time is good for you?”

You hum softly, pondering on how long you should make him wait. But, you were too impatient yourself.

“How about tomorrow? Say, six?” You suggest.

“Perfect.” He responds softly.

The date quickly evolves into something that you and Tom didn’t really plan on—and it’s a silent agreement that settles between you two as that date turns into several dinners over the course of a couple months, either at your place or his, venting about your day and getting to know each other better than anyone else you knew in town.

You weren’t familiar with the place, having only lived there a few months, but Tom had told you everything you needed to know—where to eat, where to shop, even if you always ended up at his place anyways.

And you realize rather quickly why you both latched onto each other without hesitation—there was a weird yearn for companionship, or friendship even, that neither of you acknowledged audibly, but sensed within each other.

Tom has empty pictures frames stacked on his bedside table that he doesn’t mention, even when you two end up on his bed one night after a particularly filling meal, listening to him complain about how much the weather had been bothering him.

“I live right off the beach, you know—it would be nice to go but the water is always freezing.” Tom complains, tracing the outline of your fingers with his own, hands held straight up in front of you as you both stared toward the ceiling.

“So I suppose streaking into the ocean is out of the question for you?” You ask, only slightly joking. Tom turns to look at you, eyes comically wide as his movements still. “Tom, I’m fucking with you.”

Tom looks away briefly, face contorted in a semblance of pain, like maybe you hit a sore subject. It fades quickly, replaced by a flat emotion of content.

“Okay, fess up.” You pester him, turning on your side and propping your head up into your hand. “What’s got you so bothered?”

“Nothin’,” He laughs awkwardly, releasing your hand to replace it with his own as he settles them against his stomach, soft cotton rubbing at his fingertips, “s’just bad memories.”

“Well, whoever it was, I’m sorry.” You tell him honestly. “They’re missing out.”

Tom smiles sadly, looking over at you briefly.

“Piss off,” He says softly, shoving at your thigh with no real strength, “s’not fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“You gettin’ to flirt with me, but you always tease me when I do the same.” He explains, cheeks blushing a faint shade of pink.

It’s the similar pink that happens when he’s out in the wind for too long, settling in the apples of his cheeks and staying for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asks curiously, “M’not trying to pry or anything, but—“

“Think I held her back,” Tom admits, “She loved me in the beginning.”

“And it just faded out?” You try to perceive where the story is going, but Tom shakes his head.

“Nah, it was kinda sudden.” He explains, glaring up at the ceiling, “I don’t see her for a while and then she comes back and it’s like—she hates being here. It was good those couple days but I think whatever she’d been dealin’ with had been there the whole time.”

“That’s not your fault,” You tell him, “her problems aren’t your problems, whatever they were.”

“Took me a while to put it all together, but she thought I was cheating—I mean, who does that?” Tom asks with a strain to his voice, frustration lining his tone. It seemed like a sore subject, but Tom powered through. If he didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t.

“Cheat? Loads, Tom.” You emphasize, “And I’m speaking from experience, it’s not fun.”

“I’m not like that,” Tom insists, “I couldn’t—I didn’t even think about that stuff. I loved her.”

“Did she cheat on you?” You ask carefully, wondering if you're straying too far into territory that wasn’t yours to venture into.

“I dunno,” He shrugs, “She started hangin’ out with this girl and getting teasy for no reason—maybe she expected it to be different here.”

“I like it here,” You shrug, “it’s quiet—people are nice.”

Tom smiles at that, noticing how your eyes trailed toward him. You sit up slowly, crossing your legs in front of you.

“Felt like I was forcing her to love me,” Tom says, voice teetering of sadness that clogged his throat, “some days we’d be okay and then others she would throw herself at me—like she was tryin’ to make up for acting distant.”

“How so?” You ask.

People showed their love differently, so you couldn’t really judge. You were just trying to understand.

“It’s embarrassing,” Tom admits, shaking his head at the thought, “she came home late one night and tried to—“ Tom gestures to his groin vaguely, “I couldn’t get into it.”

“That’s not your fault,” You shrug, backpedaling for a moment, “well, technically—yeah. But, if you weren’t feeling it, that’s not something for you to get upset about.”

“And then sex was,” Tom starts, looking over at you, gauging your expression, “—is it weird if I talk about this? Don’t want you feelin’ uncomfortable.”

“Tom, we’ve talked about everything. You’re not gonna have me running away at the first mention of sex. You thinkin’ I’m some kinda prude?” It’s teasing and playfully in tone, but Tom is straight-faced, sincere. “It’s not weird.”

“We’d kiss for a while, she’d make some excuse to go to the bathroom—brushing’ her teeth or something else, but then she’d come back and she couldn’t look at me.” Tom says, eyes straining slightly as he roamed around the room briefly, blinking the dryness out of his eyes, “anyways, ‘nough that.”

You laugh slightly, rocking in place as you stare down at him.

It’s the most he’s opened up since you met him, part of it feels forced—like he’s trying to clear up for his standoffish behavior, why he comes off a little forward, but it’s never bothered you.

“Got a pretty lady right here and I’m boring her to death over my ex-girlfriend.” He says, taking a stab at himself, “That’s not kind of me.”

“Kind?” You tease, poking at his side, “You? Never.”

“What about you?” Tom asks innocently, turning on his side now, knees grazing his torso. His right hand rests against your leg as he settles in a similar position to how you were earlier, paying full attention to you. “Some bloke break your heart?”

“Break? Not really. He was an ass and slept around on me every week. Took me a few months to catch on. But, there was never anything there.” You explain, “I got a nice job out here, destroyed his ego when I dumped him in front of friends, and never looked back.”

Tom grins widely, “Damn, that’s cruel.”

“He was fuckin’ them in my apartment. That shit was justified.” You tell him, the endearment is a little patronizing on your tongue. “Don’t cross me, Tom. You’ll regret it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Tom replies flirtatiously, letting you drag your fingers through his short cropped curls, eyes falling shut at the touch. “Wouldn’t ever—you’re too sweet of a girl.”

“As far as you know.” You counter, his eyes peeking open briefly to look at you, teeth peeking through his smile. It makes your heart melt, his features soften every time he looks at you. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Tom asks, knowing full well.

“Giving me the eyes,” You chuckle softly, “If you want to fuck me just say so—I hate dancing around that shit.”

“You’re something.” Tom notes, squeezing at your thigh gently.

The touch had become normal, something you both seeked after long meals and tiring work days. But this, it had your stomach fluttering and ignited a deep, unfurling pit in your stomach.

“What, are you scared of me?” You ask teasingly, flicking at the collar of his shirt as you graze his chin. It had only ever been playful touches, some suggestive touching and the one time that he kissed you on the cheek when you left his place after a late night, delirious from sleep and not really thinking.

Still, you thought about it every time you looked at him. Tom was as honest as they came, open to anything, willing to do whatever to make you comfortable. It was everything you weren’t used to but also everything you wanted.

“I don’t bite,” You tell him quietly, “not unless you ask for it.”

Tom pulls his bottom lip between his teeth slightly, smothering the laugh that escapes, attempting to cover up for the obvious surprised noise that tried to come out.

“And if I do?”

Your eyebrows raise slightly, daring him.

“Because I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t.” He admits, his hand trailing dangerously higher up your thigh, your hands having moved behind you, watching his movements.

“Then I’d say you’re in for it,” You confess, “you may not survive me, you know.”

“Soundin’ like a good way to go.” Tom replies confidently, his fingers dipping past the hem of your sweatpants, grazing the thin fabric of your underwear. “Show me?”

He’s not asking for anything in particular. He wants everything,

You bite at the inside of you check, considering how deeply this could affect your friendship with Tom—and as much as you tried to think about the cons, it was outweighed by the pros. It was a long, endless list that you couldn’t even begin to speak on—the only thing that mattered was that Tom wanted this, just as badly as you did.

You hadn’t been with anyone in a few months, let alone touched in any type of way—the kiss on the cheek was the closest you got to anything in a while. So, even with Tom’s gentle, fleeting touches, you were already willing to do just about anything to prove to Tom how much he deserved to have someone who cared, somehow who wasn’t going to flee from him without an explanation.

You hand grazes over his jeans testingly, the fabric worn from constant use, frayed at the thighs and thinning. He’s already hard under the line of his zipper, jaw clenching at the slightest bit of friction.

“How long?” You ask curiously, undoing his jeans silently.

Tom watches on, turning to his back to give you more room.

“A couple months,” He admits, “got on with a girl out at the bar after I had too many beers, don’t remember much if’m being honest.”

You nod, Tom speaks softly, “And Ruth—Ruth, she never liked to—“

“Touch you?”

“Or I touch her, not really.”

You tilt your head, wondering who could resist someone like him. He was sweet to the core, staring up at you with his hopeless eyes, wide with adoration.

“Let’s fix that, yeah?” You ask, earning a jerky nod from Tom.

He lifts his head slightly, propping himself up on his arms as he watches you tug at his jeans until he can kick them the rest of the way, your hand coming up to cup over the strained tent in his underwear, squeezing gently.

“That’s, fuck—“ Tom sighs, “this isn’t going to last long, ‘m sorry.”

“It will.” You assure him, smiling with a devious intent that should scare him away, but it only entices him further.

You settle over his legs, spread wide on your knees as you pull his underwear down the rest of the way, cock springing free and upright toward his stomach, the tip matching the vibrant blush in his face. He stares up at you nervously, hands dragging up his thighs teasingly.

“You’ve got a pretty cock, Tom.” You comment, watching as he stumbles to find his words. “Anyone ever told you that?”

He shakes his head slowly, your delicate fingers wrapping around the base, the skin like soft velvet under your touch. He’s not nearly as good at keeping his composure as you thought, letting out a small groan as you touched him.

You squeeze gently, hand slipping up to squeeze at the the tip, thumb rubbing over the slit at the head of his cock, rubbing the small amount of precum there, making the slide down all the more torturous.

“Love, that’s so fuckin’—“

You nod knowingly, just as affected despite that lack of touch. Your thighs squeezed together desperately, mouth watering at the thought of him heavy against your tongue, what he tasted like—it was impossible not to think about.

“Can I—or do you not like that?”

Tom doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second as he watches you eye his cock in your hand, licking your lips as you parted them.

“Please, please—“ He all but rushes out, “that’s, yeah, of course.”

You snort at his eagerness, relaxing himself over your lap as you take him in your mouth slowly. First your tongue, dragging it up the line of his shaft, swirling over the head slowly, repeating the process a few more times until you finally decide to take him in your mouth, the moan that escapes him is desperate, noisy, need—his fingers dragging at your hair, pushing it away gently. His hands follow the slow bob of your head, never pushing or pulling, only feeling.

And he’s mouthy, mewling all sorts of noises alongside his words. It doesn’t surprise, given how much he can talk your ear off. Though, this is so much better.

“God, it’s been ages, fuck—“ Tom grunt softly, head falling back against the pillow, fingers rubbing tenderly through your hair, silence filled with the obscene noises of your mouth on his dick, “told ya I won’t last long.”

You lean down briefly, taking his balls into your mouth, tongue rolling over the tight skin and forces and strained moan from his chest, the grip on your hair tightening slightly. You can feel the muscles in his thighs flex, the quickening in his breath—so you pull back, a vivacious grin on your face.

“What?” Tom asks flippantly, his deep cornish accent peeking through, “S’goin on? I was there.”

“I know,” You nod slowly, “It’s the whole point.”

“M’sorry?” He asks, eyebrows falling together in confusion.

“Have you never edged yourself?” You ask curiously. “Got close and stopped? Nothing?”

“That sounds horrid,” Tom admits, “Isn’t cumming the whole point?”

“Well, yeah—“ You squeeze at the base of him gently, punching a huff out of his chest as his eyes roll toward the ceiling, hands clenched into fists at his side, “but this is more fun, don’t you think?”

“Sounds like you want to torture me.” Tom notes, losing the last bit of sanity he had left when your mouth closes over the head of his cock again, tongue swirling lightly. “—N’ here I was calling you sweet.”

You grin darkly, “I can make you cry, if that’s what you really want.” It wouldn’t be the first time, definitely not the last. Most of the time you did it to be petty, bring a man to a primal state of begging just to embarrass them. But for Tom, it was more than that.

He’d never really been touched, not like this. He’s had his fair share of encounters, and his relationship with Ruth spanned a long part of his teenage years, but there was always something missing. There was always a sort of shame behind wanting things for himself and not asking, feeling like an ass for voicing his needs, so he didn’t. You didn’t need to ask him because you saw it everyday, always putting himself second for anything and anyone. Besides, you wouldn’t mind forcing a few tears out of him, a few breathless pleas.

He was already halfway there, it seemed. Tom had his eyes squeezed shut, fists still clenched at his sides as you bobbed your head slowly, eyes flicking up to watch the muscles in his jaw tense, blush traveling down his neck.

“Gotta slow down,” He begs weakly, “s’too much.”

“You sound alright to me,” You tell him snarkily, licking a long slow stipe up his cock, “should I stop?”

“No, no, no—“ Tom quickly answers, hands reaching for your head as you move, “just—I,” He sighs, feeling like a sap for saying what’s on his mind, “I’d rather have you up here.”

Sex wasn’t totally off the table, but it hadn’t been on your mind.

“Do you have condoms?” You ask, earning a slow head shake from him. The last thing you needed was a baby by someone you’ve only known for less than six months.

“You can uh—you don’t have to take your clothes off or anything,” Tom starts, “we could, just like—“

“I haven’t done that since high school, Tom.” You answer with a faint laugh, bubbly and free of judgment. “But, it’s really our only option.”

Tom breathes a heavy sigh of relief as you sit up, slipping your sweatpants down your hips and off your legs, his calloused hand traveling up your thigh as you settled over his groin, hard cock pressed against the thin cotton of your underwear, sticky with the small wet patch that had grown there, much to your own embarrassment. You hadn’t even touched yourself, or he you, and you were already just as needy. You push his shirt higher up his chest, pale skin hot to the touch, fingers dragging through the small trail that led down to his dick, hips heavy against him as you dragged your hips once, twice.

“Oh, fuck,” Tom sighs loudly, fingers gripping your hips tightly, “tits—can I see your tits?”

And no one’s ever asked in such a polite way, you can’t help but chuckle, nodding eagerly. You slip the shirt over your head, breasts bouncing freely, having forgotten your bra at home in rush over to his place. They were all in the wash, thank god.

“Beautiful,” He notes, his voice low and rough, leaning up to mouth the flesh, plush pink lips pressing against your skin, “s’like the rest of you. Perfect.”

“Tom.” You warn lightly, feeling your own face heat at his compliments.

“It’s true, love.” He tells you, eyes connecting with your face briefly, eyes vulnerable as he stares up at you. It’s the most expressive part of his face, mesmerizing, to say the least. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You nod slightly, “I know, I know.” You respond, “M’not used to people saying stuff like that to me, never know how to respond.”

“Don’t.” He assures you, “As long as you know.”

And you’ve never felt love this strongly, this early—it could be because of the situation, given your heightened state of connection, but those three words rest on your tongue heavily.

It’s a slow gradual rise as you grind against him, pressing against you in just the right way, clit catching the head of his cock with every pull back of your hips. Tom’s a mess, murmuring words that don’t make sense, soft noises, not having the strength to hold himself up any longer as he rests back against the pillow, grip tightening on your hips as you ride it out, stopping briefly when he starts to squirm a little more than usual.

It goes on for forever, it feels like. In reality, it was only about a half hour, watching Tom fall apart every time you denied his release, nearly to the point where he’s gasping at every touch, wicked pleas turning into desperate whines.

“I can’t.” Tom concedes, eyes brimming with tears, face excessively flushed, “Need it—please?”

You nod, impatient yourself as his hands travel up to touch you, thumb finding your clit over the fabric—it amazes you how he has no trouble at all when feeling out your body, despite how new this was to both of you.

“Fuck, you’re just as bad,” Tom notes with a breathy laugh, it quickly dying out with a rough snap of your hips, chasing your own orgasm selfishly, “take it, come on.”

Take what you need. Take all of it. Tom would give you everything if you let him.

It hits you fast, hard, eyes squeezing shut as you whimpered a soft ‘Fuck.’, fingers finding his wrist for purchase as you rocked your hips one final time—Tom watches your face as you come, which does him in immediately. He blinks hard, watery eyes lending a few tears to escape as he finally breathes in relief, coming in long spurts over his stomach and ruining his shirt in the process, though it’s the last thing on his mind.

“Not how I thought this night would go,” Tom admits with a lazy smile, rubbing at your thighs gently, pointing out how ruined your underwear were now, covered in a mix of slick, yours and his, “come here.”

You slump forward weakly, hands sprawling out over his head as you rest on your arms, nose grazing his. “Me neither.”

“You’re really good at that.”

You snort a tired laugh, “I’ve made many men cry—gotta admit though, you’re the prettiest.”

“Fuck off,” He laughs, reaching up to press a soft, gentle kiss to your lips, “shit hurts after a while.”

Your eyebrows raise, as if trying to prove your point.

Tom grins, attempting to hide his face in your neck. He’s never been this shy until now and it melts your heart.

“You can take a shower here,” He tells you, “sleep too, if you don’t want to mess with the drive.”

“Clothes?” You ask curiously, knowing you didn’t bring any spares.

“No, no—that’s where I draw the line.” He jokes, failing to hide his obvious smile. “‘Course, take what you need.”

“This doesn’t change anything,” You tell him honestly, watching his expression blank for a moment, “I still want my dinners, too.”

Oh.

Tom nods fervently, “Got it. Not like you could do without my cooking now, anyways. You get pissy when it’s your turn.”

You gasp slightly in shock, taken back by the jab and slapping his chest lightly.

“Don’t get coarse with me,” You warn playfully, “or I can make it a lot worse for you.” Unfortunately for you, Tom was already diving in head first. He didn’t care.

“Sounds like a challenge.” Tom counters, “I’m sure I could take you on.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#tom grant x reader #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #tom grant make up #tom grant x you #tom grant x y/n #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fic #tom grant smut #my writing

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rosedominatesyou · 8 months

Text

Bedtime Stories w/ Rose

ੈ✩‧˚ In The Clouds ‧˚ੈ✩

(Bedtime Story #4)

Hello again my little pups. Mommy is here with another tale to help ease you to sleep. It isn’t as exciting as the last ones but maybe that’ll help make your eyes heavy anyway. Keep this in your likes until you’re cozy and ready for bed. 💗

Before reading: Although I wish I could tell you all the names of the beautiful places I went to in this story, I’ve withheld certain details out of respect for my own privacy.

Everyone in my life knows how much I love birds. That’s sorta my main personality trait. Their imagery is everywhere, and you’ll start to understand why when you look a little deeper. Here’s what’s been captivating my thoughts lately, besides all of you. I hope you enjoy.

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

Please make a queue of the following 2 songs: “Fill Into Me” by Anju, and “Slow Dancing - Hazel Remix” by Aly & Aj.

Both therapists I’ve ever had at some point said to me, “It sounds like you know what all your problems are.”

As the person experiencing them/inflicting them upon myself, yeah, I knew exactly what was happening to me, but isn’t the point of sharing your feelings and negative actions with someone else supposed to make you want to be a better person? To let you hear those things out loud so that you’d want to change?

I didn’t think I was going to, and after talking to professional help, even they seemed conflicted if maybe I was just making it all up for the drama. Maybe I really was the cause of my own misery.

I was tired of it all, even if at the time I couldn’t stop myself. There was a person in my life that I’m not ready to talk about that really fucked me over and changed the way I think. It was 2020, and with everything going on in the world, all I wanted was to hang on to a friend. They left. And they were the only friend I had.

It was late into the evening at my current job, but back then I used to work nights. I was walking through the part of the warehouse that has all of our truck receiving docks when I heard a familiar sound, the little chirps of baby birds.

They had built the nest years ago inside one of the truck docks, and year after year they came back and rebuild it in the same spot. If you roll up the doors to let a truck driver in, the birds would get scared and fly deep into the warehouse, typically not finding their way out.

I stood there, alone late one night, staring up at the little nest that was caked to the side of the cement wall. I have no idea what kind of bird that is, I remember thinking to myself. I knew what a dove was, they used to nest every year at my childhood home, but these little birds were something totally different. I realized at that moment that I didn’t know jack-shit about birds, and they are everywhere. It sorta hit me harder than I thought it was going to.

If you can’t tell by my lead-up to this story, I was looking for something to captivate my thoughts - something to make me stop thinking about that friend that left me hurt and used.

Asking myself about the little birds that evening made me go to a book store on my next day off and buy a pocket field guide to the birds in my area. I read the whole thing cover to cover. I hadn’t absorbed a book like that in a long time. So many amazing variations with such unique range maps, plumage, and living habits.

If you were curious (and my hint about the description of their nest didn’t give it away), the birds that I see at my work are Barn Swallows.

I was hooked. I purchased some more detailed field guides and started joining groups online that were into birdwatching. “Birders” as they call themselves, people in my own town were posting the most beautiful pictures I’d ever seen, with captions that described the exact species down to the Latin name and seasonal variety.

I wasn’t even planning on going out the day that I did. I wanted to try to take some pictures like I had been seeing in my group. I had a camera, but nothing like what some of the people were sporting. I also had no clue where to go; sure you can just go walk around anywhere, but where was I likely to see the most? Basically at random with no input from my group, I picked a local reservoir to drive out to.

I was shaking as I got out of the car at the first ever ‘birding’ location i’d go to, feeling nauseous as I set up my camera. “This is stupid this is stupid you look like a creep this is so stupid,” I couldn’t help repeating to myself out loud as I began down the first walking path I saw.

My own words work, making me turn around suddenly and go back to the car. There’s barely anyone around but the 2 or 3 people who glance across to me is too much to bear. My hands could hardly put the lens cap back on because of how much I was trembling.

You drove all the way here, I try to encourage myself as I conceal my body behind the open trunk, other people do it. Just go walk around.

I stop putting everything away and just stand there for a second, breathing and feeling.

You wanted this.

I get my dslr back out, the lens attached to it being the biggest one I owned: 200mm. I had gotten it as a present many years ago, and loved taking pictures around my house, but had never taken my camera with me out in public. Something about walking around with it in my hands made me feel so out of place, but I tried to just push past that and start walking again.

Unknown to me back then, the location and time of year I picked were both rather dismal. The lake was desolate of animal life. If there aren’t any fish, rodents, or trees to perch on, birds won’t be attracted. It was also summer, and though that may seem like a good time of year for a person, the best time to witness a large variety of birds is during their two migrations each year: spring and fall. Most birds, besides natives that stay year round, have already settled into their northern territories for the Summer. I live in California, and while we are blessed with an insane number of species, we are also basically just a giant highway for birds traveling between their summer territories in Canada/Alaska, and their wintering nesting sites in Mexico/South America.

When I got home from my first outing and took a look at my pictures, I was very disappointed. Most were too dark, too far away, or way too blurry to make anything out. The only birds I managed a decent photo of were a Western Bluebird pair, but even then I was not happy with what I had taken. I was being too hard on myself, expecting a lot out of a person who was just starting out something new.

Two days later I went to a local camera store and bought a 300mm lens. Not a huge difference, but my confidence became more noticeable in the shots I took the next few outings.

The songs I had you add to a queue are just a couple that I would listen to when out birding. Calming, peaceful songs, i naturally always hear birds chirping and grasses swaying in the wind overlapping with the music while I listen now.

The feeling of discovering birds was overwhelming. I’d see something new and my heart would race so fast. It felt like falling in love. My feet would start to run without looking down as my eyes remained glued on the bird in my vision.

One time my partner Jamie and I were out at a wildlife reserve when we saw what we thought was a Golden Eagle. The massive raptor was dark overall and was calling loudly as it soared above us. We ran down the winding paths, loosing sight of it and only being able to follow the bird by the shrill call it made overhead.

Finally we found it again, perched on a tree that hung sideways over a cliff. The sun was shinning right on its face and I started snapping away, taking shot after shot of the magnificent bird. It didn’t like how long we were watching it, and took off while I continued to take pictures.

Ecstatic with what we had seen, I quickly uploaded the photos to the group I’m in asking if I was correct with what I thought.

Many people chimed in right away to let me know that, even though they were great pictures, the bird in the photos was actually just a Red-Tailed Hawk.

RTH’s, as their name is abbreviated, are the most abundant hawks in North America, and are also the most easily mistaken for another raptor. The specific bird I had seen was a large, dark-morph female, meaning her plumage was a much darker brown than most buteo’s.

The thrill of going out birding was something my heart craved so heavily the more and more I did it. I’d get so excited to come home and look through my pictures, trying to see if I caught any new species and if I could figure out what its name was. It felt a lot like Pokémon and filling up my Pokédex. ☺️

The field guides weren’t enough, I wanted to know more. I now had a better understanding of the seasons, and knew I had to wait out the summer until I’d see the next migration. I bought two books off of Amazon: a cute little yellow book called “Birdpedia” that has hundreds of quick facts about all things avian lore, and a novel/memoir called “H is for Hawk” by Helen Macdonald.

Helen’s book would launch me into a reading craze like I’ve never felt before, buying bird book after bird book, reading them within a few weeks and moving on to another. I had never been one to read very much (not unless you count manga), so to feel myself still craving more words was a very new feeling. Here’s a list of a few more books I’d recommend if you’re interested, they’re my favorites:

‘Bird Brother’ by Rodney Stotts. Very relatable slice of life from a person who never thought he’d write a book, or own raptors.

‘The Falcon Thief’ by Joshua Hammer. True crime novel meets bird study in this gripping story about a detective who’s after a man wanted for stealing endangered eggs.

‘Red-Tails in Love’ by Marie Winn. You gotta really like birds and reading to get through this one; a woman’s true account of her observations in New York’s Central Park, along with the other birders who accompany her.

Including all of my field guides (mostly local but I have one about Japan!), I’ve read 16 books that have something to do with falconry. My brain is truly stuffed with bird lore. Upon making the poll about this bedtime story, two of you asked me to tell you a bird fact. 🤭 Here’s what I told them, my go-to bird fact:

All avian species had many goals during their evolutionary periods, but nothing like their need to be more aerodynamic. Their quest to be lighter led them to lose a few organs over time that mammals couldn’t imagine living without, including the bladder! That is why it seems like birds poop completely at random, it is truly because they have no way to hold it.

Second special fun fact, people always ask me, “What’s your favorite kind of bird?!” and that’s a hard one because I love all of them so much, but I like to say it’s the Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher since I can almost perfectly mimic their mating call. 😋

Over several months, I added more equipment to my build. I got a Sigma AF 600mm lens, as well as a teleconverter, a small attachment that goes between the camera and the lens to double the distance of whatever you’re shooting. Now I was able shoot 1200mm! I could see the blood on the beak of a hawk from half a mile away.

Birding trips would take me and Jamie all across California, going to every state park and wildlife reserve we could to see what kinds of birds were there. We’d bring picnic lunches and listen to music before starting our hikes. Eventually I bought a second Nikon off of some lady that I met up with in a Five Bellow parking lot, wanting to have a second camera for landscape shots.

I still love going out and taking pictures, though the newbie excitement I used to feel has since died down. The joy of closing your eyes and taking a deep breath of fresh air as you listen to all the birds around you is a peace I would want anyone to feel. It’s my favorite way to exist.

I know this one was a bit of a boring read this time, so as a reward for getting through it, here’s some of the pictures that I’m most proud of 🥰 Please note, they all have been cropped to remove my artist’s signature:

The photo of the Western Bluebird pair from my first ever outing.

2. Red-winged Blackbird. Proof that the 200mm lens can absolutely get you a good shot if the subject is close enough. This guy landed on a branch less than 10 feet away from me.

3. Cedar Waxwings. If you’re familiar with these regal-looking birds, then you can probably hear how loud this photo is 🤭

4. White-faced Ibis. One of the first shots I had taken with my 300mm lens.

5. Red-shouldered Hawk. A sub-species of the RTH, this RSH is seen covered in dew on a cold, early January morning. 600mm.

6. And finally, my favorite picture that I’ve ever taken, this is a first summer Pygmy Nuthatch, seen here with a beak full of grubs that it was bringing back to it’s siblings in the nest. 1200mm.

That’s the end of our story. Thank you so much for reading ❤️ Please let Momma about what you think of the story and the pictures. 🤭

Sweet dreams 💋 xoxo

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

#rosebtstory #enjoy my puppies 💋

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