#and that's one of the nastiest parts of it - we were good friends and you did seem to like me plenty | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawbsj · 2 months

Note

ik hanni's so soft, but can you make a fic like I kinda wanna see her as a fuck girl 😭 liek girlie be fuckin girls left and right

And she's like a bball/foot ball player and ur like innocent and ofc a VIRGIN

Mean gp hanni please, and also take ur time 😓

Pairings: G!p Fuck girl basketball player Hanni x fem reader!

Word count: 1,4

Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), use of aphrodisiac, manipulation, corruption kink, p in v, fuck girl hanni, virgin reader, reader gets called kitty, little bit of teasing, not proofread, and just filthy smut!!

Jwans note: I managed to make this kinda soft🫣🤷‍♀️

—————————————————————————

You hated basketball, and you hated Hanni. Or maybe you hated basketball because of hanni?

Hanni was one of the most popular basketball players in your whole school, and the most arrogant one. She had girls literally flooding her house everyday or all over her in the school cafeteria.

You’ve heard some of the nastiest rumors about her, from the same girls that she has fucked dumb and threw away the next day, it got to the point that there were no more girls to fuck in your school, she had to “re-fuck” and that was one of the things that she hated. She wanted something new and different, not something she already got to have her fun with. She got bored easily and that’s just her habit.🤷‍♀️

You hated her because of her mean attitude and the way she treated the girls after she got to have her fun with them. Well hate is a big word, dislike is more like it.

You never hanged out with type of people like Hanni. She was way out of your league and you liked your own small group of friends. You guys weren’t nerd but you weren’t popular, you guys just had your grades on the top of the list. You cared for your future and career. So after the cute kindergarten crush and date you had, you never went out nor had some kind of hook up in some available room in those frat parties like most people your age did.

You heard the unnecessary rumor in your school, about your friend group being a pack of losers and virgins. You have no idea who spread that information, but there was nothing to deny except the losers part. You honestly didn’t know what was wrong with being a virgin or not having much experience. But still you had to torment the laughing of the mean girls and the laughing of the fuck girls.

Hanni found the thing, quite alluring actually. The idea of fucking a virgin pussy and virgin mouth, didn’t fail to make blood pressure in her cock and also she’d put you in the list of the girls she has already fucked, so it’s a win win situation for her.

But the real question is…How will she get you under her spell?! You were a hard person to impress or to make a move on, so if she acted nice and kind around you, that won’t impress you.She need more smart and easy way to blind you under the sheets.

The teacher has been nagging about her needing a tutor because of the constant basketball practice and the basketball games. So she have been missing out on lots. Hanni recommended you as her tutor, you were shocked that she even acknowledged you, you were gonna deny but the wide smile the teacher gave and the loud “Good choice” she muttered made you change your mind and accept being her tutor. What is the worse that could happen?

Days come and go as fast as wind, and here you are in front of her door, the first tutoring session. Bringing your hand to knock on the wooden surface. You gave two soft knocks, and not long after, a figure stood tall in front of you. She was wearing grey sweatpants and her teams basketball shirt.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel down to her crotch, the visible little bump in there. She saw how you eyed her length she gave a little dirty chuckle. “Shall we go inside?”

You gulped before meeting her lust filled eyes and nodded hurriedly. The little look she had on her face, made anticipation burn right under your belly button.

You sat down on her black leather couch crossing your legs and she stood in front of you.

“Do you want coffee, tee or juice?” She asked you heading towards her kitchen, you registered what she said. “Juice is fine!” You answered politely.

You waited for her patiently, your bag on your lap, playing with all of the cool zippers and pockets before her figure came with a tray of what you think is Orange Juice and heart chocolates. You honestly don’t know about this combo of Orange juice and chocolate, but you are here as a guest so you must be grateful for what she offers you.

You took the glass of juice from the tray and took a little sip, she offered you heart chocolates with a little smirk. Your heart told you to not take it but your brain shouted otherwise and you obviously went with your brain.

“Taste these new chocolates, I bought them from a cool shop near here!”

You mumbled a low ‘thank you’ and took a bite from the heart chocolate. “It’s good!” You said with a warm smile on your face. “I know” she smiled back at you, or not a smile, it was more like a grin.

You started the tutoring session, it was going peacefully and perfectly, before you felt your panties soaked, you were so wet that you swore that there is a probably a stain on her couch. But what confused you was,why were you aroused? There was no particular reason for you to be this wet.

You felt that your clit was ten times more sensitive and you felt like a horny rabbit, even the slightest touches of her hand on your burning form was enough to make the most sinful noises come out. She saw how you were biting your lip or stuttering when her knee brushed against yours. The drug finally did it work and she loved seeing you in this vulnerable state.

You tried rubbing your soaked pussy against the couch, but soon stopped due to the noises that threatened to fall. She wrapped her hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your heat.

She started groping and rubbing the soft flesh. And you couldn’t help yourself and you let out a moan, your hand immediately found it way on top of your mouth, your eyes wide at the sound you just let out.

She gave once again one of her dirty chuckles “if you want me to touch you this badly you could just tell me kitty!” Her index and middle finger found it way over your clothed clit and started rubbing it.

“Fuck- baby you have a waterfall down here” your breath hitched, your brain too occupied with pleasure and the feeling of wanting more that you are not processing what she said. She took off your pants and started toying with your soaked pussy, playing with your folds, thrusting her knuckles in then pulling immediately out, or pinching your sensitive pearl.

And suddenly all of her touches were gone. Her sweats were getting too uncomfortable and suffocating for her, with one swift motions her clothing was discarded on the same pile as your pants.

She aligned herself with your walls before pushing in, your virgin pussy suffocating her cock in the most delicious way ever.

“Fuck kitty, your pussy is hugging me so tight.” Her eyes were shut close and yours were too. Your sobs echoed through the room walls, you were desperate for more. Her hips started rocking against yours gently, the head of her cock discovering places nobody has ever visited. She gripped on your waist like she could just collapse any moment, the grip so tight that you are sure there is now a red or purple marks there

“I’m the first and only one who is going to run this pussy” she muttered before her face leaned against yours, her lips swallowing your high pitched moans.

Her pace started being desperate, hammering her hips against yours, sweaty skin slapping sounds echoing, moans and groans the only thing your brain processing. Her lips captured yours, the kiss messy and sloppy, exchanging saliva and her tongues sucking on yours.

Your pussy was now swallowing her length even tighter, “Hanni I-I’m close” you uttered, it was more like a moan but she could understand you.

“M-me too kitty m-me too!” She groaned. Her tips continued abuse made you clench once more around her before your orgasm washed over you, leaving you exhausted. Your first ever orgasm.

You felt your insides being flooded with warm sticky liquid and you realized that she came. She snuggled onto you, her hands wrapping around your exhausted form. And your hands around her neck. You knew that you had to take a shower soon, but you want to enjoy this moment for now.

#pham hanni smut #pham hanni x reader #pham hanni #hanni pham #hanni smut #new jeans x reader #new jeans hanni smut #new jeans hanni #hanni x fem reader #hanni x reader #hanni Pham smut #Pham hanni x fem reader #hanni new jeans #hanni newjeans #hanni thoughts #new jeans x fem reader #new jeans smut #new jeans fluff

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nyoomiin · 1 month

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roommates: part eight.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

prev. masterlist. next.

Needle and thread in your hands, a hum dancing under your breath. A bell chimes as a door swings open, and two heated, urgent voices can be heard. You look up from your sewing.

One, a blond with a kind smile, and the other, partially hidden behind him. He catches your eye instantly. It's Kunikuzushi, you realise, and he's wearing your gift. He looks at you with sharp eyes, then turns to Aether to retort something Paimon had said. You’re struck with a faint surprise, then a surging sense of excitement.

“Archons, it's perfect,” you breathe, rushing up to him.

You freeze, deja-vu washing over you, and you catch yourself before you lay your hands on him. What in the world? You clear your throat. “I never knew that all of you were friends! How can I help you?”

“Friends? With these two?” he scoffs.

Paimon scowls. “As if Paimon wants to be friends with the likes of you!”

You laugh. It seems they were very good friends indeed. Shaking off the the last tendrils of deja-vu, you can't stop yourself from admiring how good he looked in Inazuman garb. Well, he always looked great, but this certainly took the cake.

“I'm an amazing dressmaker,” you declare proudly. “I should make more clothes for you sometime. Kuni looks great, doesn't he, Aether, Paimon?”

“I'm not your dress-up doll,” he protests, but the pink tinge to his ears betrays his satisfaction at your compliment. “Do you not have any other friends?”

You decide to take pity on his ego and not point out the fact that he acknowledged the both of you were friends. You pout. “Of course I have other friends! But… none of them are your size.”

He shoots you the nastiest look. You cackle.

“Wait wait wait. Hold on — Paimon's confused!” Paimon cries. “That roommate you mentioned — is Scara — I mean, is him?!”

You nod. “Yeah! It's been a few months already. Why?”

“No, no, it's nothing,” Paimon says faintly. “Paimon just didn't think that —”

“Wow, I didn’t know you could think.” Kunikuzushi snorts.

You're stunned. There's a ghost of a wicked smirk on his face and traces of malice glittering in his eyes, and for a second, you can imagine how cruel he could have once looked. Paimon gasps, offended, while Aether sighs, gently shielding a fuming Paimon away from Kuni. “Let's not argue. We have a task to accomplish here.”

You look between the three of them, mildly confused. Were they really not friends after all? And this ‘task’... Why did it feel like it had to do with you?

You're on the way to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, Aether and Paimon leading the way and Kunikuzushi two steps behind.

Nahida — the Dendro Archon — wants to meet with you, Paimon had told you helpfully, once the tension had died and all was done and sorted. She never gave you a reason, claiming that Nahida would explain everything when you met.

You had glanced at Kuni for help, only for him to cross his arms and look away, unhelpfully muttering things under his breath you didn't bother to overhear.

“What does Kuni have to do with me meeting the Dendro Archon, though?”

Aether gives you a strange look, gaze flickering between you and Kuni with eyes that held secrets within secrets. Paimon titters. “You don't know? Scar — Your roommate is working for Nahida.”

That made sense. If he was working for the Dendro Archon, of course he'd — Wait.

“You — WHAT?!”

You clear your throat sheepishly. Then, you round on him immediately, hissing. “You work for a literal Archon and you never bothered to tell me?! We've been friends for so long now. I'm hurt — !”

“It's none of your business, that's why,” he snaps.

You cannot deny that. He had always been rather private, despite his prickly and mildly arrogant attitude, and you knew he had his secrets. Still, you thought the both of you were relatively close friends by now. Was something as simple as his job so hard to share?

He sighs, softening. Just the slightest. “Relax. It's not as if I hid it from you. It just never came up.”

True. You narrow your eyes at him anyway, playfully shooting him a dirty look. He was on thin fucking ice.

The Dendro Archon doesn't look at all like how you'd imagine her to be.

Well, you knew she had lost her powers, but you never expected that it'd be so obvious. She's tiny, hair as white as snow and eyes emerald as the forests. She looked like a fairy. And she's adorable.

… Which is probably not something you should be thinking about your Archon.

You introduce yourself to her awkwardly. “I was told you wanted to see me…?”

She giggles, and it tinkles like a chime.

“I did — but please don't worry, it's nothing serious,” she says. “Though I believe it'd be best if we all took a seat.”

You're led to a cozy office of hardwood bookshelves and pillowy armchairs, sunlight scattering over the table where a potted forget-me-not rests. You only recognised the flower because you had slaved away embroidering forget-me-nots onto handkerchiefs for a commision once.

Kunikuzushi seats himself next to you, and Nahida directly opposite. Aether and Paimon take the single seat by your right. For a beat, it's silent, and unbearably uncomfortable.

“So, uh… Is someone gonna tell her or will Paimon have to? Because this is getting really awkward.”

“Let me,” Nahida interjects. “To make a long story short, I believe you have been experiencing rather… hm, peculiar dreams in the recent months, yes?”

Hesitantly, you nod in agreement, wondering where this was going. How did she even know what kind of dreams you've been having? The Dendro Archon’s powers were no joke — she really was the wisest in the land, huh?

“Simply put, this is due to a malfunction in the Irminsul. The Traveller can easily rectify this, but we do need your consent as it involves delving into your mind.”

The Irminsul? What did the World Tree have to do with any of this?? And why did Aether have to mess with your brain…? Were your dreams dangerous, or something?

Nahida reads the questions written on your face easily. “It is rare for this to happen, but it is not impossible. I'm afraid the negative impacts of the ‘dreams’ you're having will only worsen with time, so it's best if we solve the problem now.”

She begins to explain to you how your dreams were really memories the Irminsul had stored, and had leaked into your subconsciousness due to a malfunction somewhere along the lines. Which is crazy. Worse yet, they'd slowly eat into your life the longer they persisted, until you'd basically have the memories and consciousness of two people in your head at once. Like, what the fuck? That was weird.

“So you're saying you'll knock me out, and Aether will… go into my brain? To fix… this? And the weird dreams will stop?” you ask, breathless with disbelief.

She nods patiently, carefully emphasising how no harm would come to any of you during the process of it. Oddly enough, Kunikuzushi sits by you in uncharacteristic silence the entire duration of the conversation. You glance at him and meet his eye, to which he raises a brow in response.

You huff. “Well, okay then. Let's do it.”

“Wonderful.”

taglist. (send an ask to be added.)

@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth @thenyxsky @kiyiiaarchived

#—stellaronhvnters.#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #genshin #scaramouche #we're almost there 🙏🙏😭😭

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fallinforerling · 1 year

Text

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. PART 6 - jb

A/N: I enjoyed SO much writing this, you have no idea. I hope all you love it was much as I did. See you next update! Also, I strongly recommed to listen to the song right when I marked it :) Makes it all better. AND, this is the last part without Jude in it, so prepare!

ೃ⁀➷ series/jude's taglist : ̗̀➛ my other taglists

: ̗̀➛ REQUESTS ARE OPEN !

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˛ * 。° 。 •˚.・。.・゜✭・.⋆·˚ ༘ .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・

“You can't keep going like this, honey” Mia said after you calmed down and allowed yourself to tell the whole phone call at your pace. “You need to get out of this city for a couple of days, clear your mind, go no phone and then come back to your normal life.”

“Mia's right. I haven't seen you this stressed and emotionally drained... ever. This isn't you. I won't allow one of my best friends to lose herself to a breakup.” Nikki said, giving you your second cup of tea of the morning.

“I know...” You didn't have the energy to think about anything else other than how much your life had changed in so little time. “But where can I go? What you guys have in mind sounds like a spiritual retirement.”

“Well... I know someone who owns a very nice cabin in Scotland...” Nikki shrugged when both you and Mia raised your eyebrows, questioning once again what was that about. “I make a lot of friends, okay?”

“We know” Mia shortly laughed, directing her full attention back to you. “So, what do you say? Does a week in Scotland sound like a bad or a good idea?”

“At this point?” You said, pointing at yourself: you had a cover over your shoulders, a cup of tea in your hands, and a puffy face thanks to all the crying. “Anything is better than this”

“You drink that, I'll make some calls” At this point, Nikki's phone seemed to have all the wonders of the world inside of it.

“One day, I'll be able to figure out how she does all of this,” Mia whispered, grabbing your cup. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Soup?” Besides the anger and sadness that came back with force, the three of you were still hungover. You felt like your head was about to explode from all the pressure.

“You got it”

While she was in the kitchen and Nikki was out on the balcony doing who knows what, you allowed yourself to go back to your room. Your phone was now charging on the night stand. Better to keep ignoring it.

The room was still messy, and even though you really wanted to go back to bed, cleaning seemed like a better option to keep your mind occupied.

The clothes were all dirty so you instantly dropped them inside your basket, reminding yourself to wash them later. Then you made sure all of the other things were at their place before making the bed. The bathroom was the nastiest part (lots of makeup wipes, cotton pads full of micellar water and a wet sink) but you cleaned it all faster than expected.

When you came back to the bedroom, you noticed your phone was buzzing again. It sure wasn't IG, since you silenced it. You came closer, relieved and concerned when you saw Jobe's name on the screen.

“Please God, some peace...” You said before picking up. “Hey?”

“Hey! Uh, I don't want to be, like, intrusive or anything but... Do you know what's going on with Jude?"

“Uhm... Be more specific.” Because you could think of a hundred+ things going on with that man right now.

“He's throwing a tantrum… I mean, not like a toddler type of tantrum, but he's fuming! He asked me for my phone and didn't want to say what for. I said no, of course, and then he got even worse. He's saying something about needing some way to communicate…” His voice became a whisper. “Would I be wrong assuming that is definitely something about you?”

You let out a sigh, feeling drained. Again.

“Yeah, it's about me” You sat on your vanity, rubbing your eyes. “Look, I went out yesterday with some friends and I happened to run into Gio… We took a photo and then some stupid people filmed us dancing. It went a bit viral, I think. I don't really know. Jude saw it and called me all morning until I picked up after waking up. He was asking me why I was with Gio and why I didn't tell him”

“That's insane, mate. What the fuck, he has no right to do that”

“I know! Well, he was calling to question me. It seems like some people are assuming that I'm Gio's girlfriend. I don't know if it's about his man ego getting hurt by me being mistaken for his teammate's girl or what, but I don't want to know anything else about it. So I blocked him.”

“Well, fuck me! His audacity has me speechless…”

“I don't want this to turn into a big thing. Just... Let him throw his little tantrum, he's going back to Dortmund in a few days anyways. He has to forget about it”

“You sound like the one that broke up with him, that's so funny” He laughed quietly, probably not wanting to call the attention of his brother. “Okay, I'll try to keep him on track”

“Thanks... And, Jobe?” You said, feeling more than grateful for having him.

“Yeah?”

“I won't have my phone this week, so don't get worried if you don't hear from me, okay?”

“Okay… Uh, I know this is stupid to ask, but are you still coming to my match? I'll understand if you don't. It's completely understandable with all that's happening”

A part of you wanted to say no, but it was Jobe. It wasn't fair to do that to him. Maybe Jude wasn't going to attend. You were praying for that.

“Of course I'll go. I promised you, and you know how much I want to see you play”

“Thank you” You could tell he was happy about you saying yes. “Talk to you in a week, then?”

“One hundred percent”

After the call ended, you just sat there. Jobe was like your little brother, and maybe his actual brother was the biggest asshole you'd ever known, but that didn't mean you were about to run away from everything that had to do with him.

You weren't a coward. Hopefully.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

song recommendation: cardigan - taylor swift

Leaving your phone at the bottom of your bag and not paying any attention to it was easier than expected. Nikki managed to book flights to Glasgow that same night, and while they were gone to make their bags, you stayed to clean up a little bit more the whole apartment. You were leaving for a week. You noticed that it was the first time that you did your bags in months where your destiny wasn’t Dortmund.

You grabbed comfy clothes, your laptop and tablet (you still worked from home), and some shower products. Most of your skincare was in the bathroom, but some were in the vanity. While looking for some travel-sized ones, you stumbled across a particular box in the bottom drawer.

It was blue, medium-sized and simple. Your hand flew directly to your neck, where a necklace rested comfortably. The jade stone was cold, as cold as you felt. You didn’t even realized you were still wearing it, but of course, you never took it off since the day it was gifted to you.

Since Jude gifted it to you.

You thought about taking it off, but you stopped mid-way. You didn’t feel ready to do something like that just yet. That necklace alone meant so much to you.

The way he gave it to you wasn’t absurdly romantic, but rather sweet. It was familiar. You were laying in bed, just looking at each other; then he got up and grabbed the little box from his closet. He said he saw it and immediately thought of you; of how well it went with your skin tone and than he was sorry for not giving it to you in a more romantic way. You loved it from the moment you saw it. You used to feel so happy when you remembered it was hanging from your neck.

Now all you feel is a deeply nostalgic feeling that makes the skin around the pendant burn.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Nikki's friend was kind enough to lend you a beautiful cabin in the woods for the week. He (or she, you weren't even sure of their gender) even sent a butler to pick you up from the airport and drive you around town so you could buy groceries. The drive to the cabin, he said, was almost two hours, but the whole scenario- the woods, the lake, the little animals running around- made it easier for all of you to not care about that. It was perfect.

The cabin was even better. It wasn’t exaggeratedly large, so you wouldn’t be bumping into each other the entire time but neither separated if didn't want to, which was good. You needed the space to think and heal alone, even if you loved the company of your friends.

The first two days were just you hanging around the house, making food, taking walks around the woods- Mia even discovered a tiny lake near the cabin, and lots of bonfires. It felt therapeutic to not know what was going on in the real world outside that cabin surrounded by kilometers of trees.

You don’t remember the last time you enjoyed nature and being (partially) alone this much. You also spent a lot of time alone in the woods or by the lake; you allowed yourself to cry, to mourn Jude, to blame him and then forgiving him. You didn’t forgave him for how much you were suffering the breakup, not just yet, that was still fresh. But you forgave him for breaking up with you, he had all the right to that.

You remembered all the good times you had together, the bad ones, the regular ones. It was a normal relationship even if you didn’t get to post his face on your social media, or if your dates had to be more private than normal people were used to. You loved him. You still did, even if you hated the idea of being weak because of your love.

And then, after all those days that you used to go through all the stages of a breakup, something you didn’t allow yourself to do the past three weeks, you were ready to let him go. To accept that your boyfriend, the one that loved you and appeared to be your soulmate, died the night he broked your heart. And that was okay.

So on the last afternoon before the butler came back for the three of you, you took a final walk through the woods and into the lake, and like physically detaching Jude from your heart, you took off the necklace and throwed it into the water.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * TAGLIST

@mentalbaddie | @taintedstranger | @mrs-dasilvasantoss @mbapbaesluvr | @erensfavgirly | @cinderellawithashoe @yoitsmo07

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wez-star · 7 months

Text

-heartbeat-

{Rosa Diaz x fem! reader}

[office sex, non-bed surface, fingering, hand around neck, working overtime alone with rosa, after care 18+!]

first person

{english isn't my first language so ingore the spelling mistakes}

playlist

"ayo, fuck this

Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'?

Are we best friends? Are we somethin'

In between that?

I wish we never fucked, and I mean that But not really

You say the nastiest shit in bed, and it’s fuckin’ awesome"

i gasp as my back hits the desk.

the monitor, keyboard, pens, and everything except the paper files that were standing on Rosa's desk now lay scattered across the presinct floor. rosa quickly leanes over me. her mouth meets mine, her tounge moving around the inside of my mouth as her hand claspes my jaw. her other hand pining me down on the desk, my legs still wrapped around her waist.

the scattered files under my head move as rosa's hand soflty wraps around my throat and pushes me against the desk harder.

i let out a grunt as rosa's hand wraps tighter around my throat and i feel rosa's hand go up my dress. i knew it was a bad idea to wear a dress today. her mouth moves to my neck. "rosa-" "shh" she imediatly dismisses me. her hand slides in my panties. her finger moves around my clitt. i moan

she likes that. everytime i moan or make a noise even resembelling one she speeds up,becomes more intense.

rosa is wild and unpredictable she always has been. but never did i think she'd be this wild and unpredictable.

"i want to consume you" she mutter against my neck. i inhale sharply as i feel her teeth sinking into my neck. her hand clasps my neck even harder as if to pull me closer to her.

she thrusts her fingers inside of me. "fuck" i moan. she moves from my neck back to my mouth, leaving a wet trail of saliva on my neck. she bites and pulls at my bottom lip.

she continues moving her fingers. in and out, in and out, in and out. she becomes more needy more frantic and more slopy everytime i moan. "rosa" my hand grasps her hair. "god you're perfect" she whispers. she kisses and bittes against my open mouth, as if she wants to eat me. and she does

she lets go of my throat and looks me in the eyes as she pulls herself towards the location of her other hand, slowely pulling it out of me. i let out a shake breath. i feel her hair slowly exit the grip of my hand. "you're doing great baby" she whispers as her fingers trail along my body.

she puls of my panties and slowely parts my legs.

rosa is wild and frantic she takes what she want but somehow she manages to still be carefull with me.

she places her mouth on me. everytime she flicks her tounge i moan louder. her hand grips my hips tightly. "oh my god" i moan. my entire boddy tingles as she moves her tounge.

"fuck" i exclaim. she pulls away from me leaving me cold and without touch. she sits down on her old shitty office chair and pulls me on her lap. i burry my face in the croke of her neck as she wraps her arm around my waist and strokes my hair.

"good girl" she whispers in my ear. her hands soflty move trew my hair. "hows you're boyfriend?" "who?"

masterlist

#rosa diaz x reader #rosa diaz #brooklyn nine nine #smut #kinktober #fanfic

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ilovewriting06 · 1 month

Text

Mischief and Angel- Part 6

A/N- I hope you remember Mrs. Mitchel (she's the one that spreads the rumors, Beacon Hills' very own Karen) because she's making a comeback in this part, and I have never hated writing a character so much in my life. I hope you like it!

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

I narrow my eyes at the woman standing in front of me in the local Target, "Hello, Mrs. Mitchel."

She raises an eyebrow before smiling like she didn't accuse me of keeping Stiles from his child and that I was a prostitute that had an Only Fans.

"Hello, Y/n"

I scowl before humming, "I've been meaning to talk to you."

She nods and goes to speak but I cut her off, "What the hell made you think it was okay to make up lies about Stiles and I? I'll have you know that I'm not pregnant and I also don't have an Only Fans. Stiles and I have been together since we were 14 and got engaged because we love each other, not because I blackmailed him. Your gossiping has to stop! Ms. Richards still gets asked if she's still married to some random dude in Bora Bora. She literally went there for a week for vacation, with her best friend and now she can't escape the rumors."

I take a second to catch my breath before I'm going off again, "You're a lonely old woman that takes pleasure in making up lies about others and it's appalling. I have enough going on and I don't need your lies making it any worse. I'm planning a wedding, I'm looking at houses, I'm trying to finish high school with good grades, not to mention all the other stuff going on in my life that you don't even know about. I'm just warning you that if you make another story up about my life, or Stiles' life, or anyone's life for that matter, you're going to end up with no one. You screw people over one too many times and before you know it you won't have anyone, and there will be no one to blame except you."

Mrs. Mitchel stares at me with wide eyes as a small group of people that had gathered during my rant nod in agreement with what I said. She clears her throat, "Well then, no need to be rude. It's very unbecoming for a young lady. How you're engaged I'll never know. He must have brain damage."

My jaw drops as I watch her with wide eyes, "He has brain-what?! I'll have you know that he maintains a 4.0 GPA, currently stands as the valedictorian, and I'm damn proud of him too. I get that you're lonely and miserable and have no friends but that doesn't give you a right to be so rude to others. Maybe if you stopped being a bitch you'd be able to make some friends!"

Mrs. Mitchel's face turns red as the group of people grows and they all murmur agreements at what I said. I go to say something else when Stiles appears around the corner holding up a fluffy blanket, "I know you said we didn't need anymore blankets but this thing feels like a cloud. Can we plea-..." He stops mid sentence when he looks up to see the group of people and an angry Mrs. Mitchel. He looks at me before sighing, "Lord, what did you do?"

I scoff, "Me?! I didn't do anything she's the one that started all those stupid rumors! I was just telling her how it was."

Stiles lets out a deep breath before throwing the blanket in the cart, "Well, carry on, just don't touch her. She'd try and charge you with assault."

Mrs. Mitchel takes that as her queue to start talking, and dear God does she use her words to hurt, "You are the nastiest, rudest, most crass young lady I have ever met. I hope your marriage fails and he runs off with someone who is far better than you. It shouldn't be hard he can probably go to the nearest pet store and pick up a rat."

I go to take a step towards her but an arm grabs me by the waist and pulls me back so I can't touch her, but it doesn't stop me from trying, "That's it! Stiles, let me go!"

Stiles shakes his head and I know he won't let me go so I turn my deadly glare up to 1000 and aim it at Mrs. Mitchel, "You say I'm crass and rude but you are the literal definition of both of those words!"

She scoffs and her hand tightens on the handle of her cart, "You're very overdramatic and you have no care or sympathy for others."

My mouth drops as my eyes widen but I don't get a chance to speak because she cuts in again with the sharpest, most painful words she could possibly say, "God, I hope you never have any kids, you'd probably manage to kill them within a month because of your lack of care!"

At those words it feels like a knife just stabbed into my heart and was then twisted. I deflate in Stiles' hold remembering how I lost our baby at approximately one month. I fight back tears and the look of triumph on Mrs. Mitchel's face makes me feel like I'm going to be sick.

I swallow around the lump in my throat as Stiles spins me around and pulls me into his chest trying to cradle me from the harsh words and wishes of an angry and cruel woman. Stiles holds me tight as he looks at Mrs. Mitchel, "You are one evil woman. You have no idea how personal that was you angry old witch! Why can't you just let people be happy? You know I could have you arrested for a public disturbance."

"Don't worry Stiles, that's exactly what's going to happen."

I glance over to see the crowd of people parting like the red sea before Parrish appears. He glares at Mrs. Mitchel before walking forward and slapping on the cuffs, "Gladys Mitchel, you are under arrest for disturbing the peace in a public setting. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

As Mrs. Mitchel pales Parrish shakes his head, "For a sixty year old woman you sure are a jerk."

After Parrish and Mrs. Mitchel leave, the group scatters for the most part except a couple stragglers who send us looks of sympathy. One little old woman, no younger than 70 steps forward with a small frown, "Don't listen to old Gladys, she's wrong. You will make a fantastic mother."

She pats my back before hobbling away with her cane and I can't help but smile a little bit.

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

I curl up around Stiles in our bed as he turns on a random movie before pulling me even closer, "I am so sorry, Angel. I know how much that hurt but Angel, it wasn't your fault."

I know he's telling me the miscarriage wasn't my fault and it causes me to melt into him because I know he's right. I did everything right when I found out I was pregnant but it doesn't stop the pain and what ifs.

Stiles must know what I'm thinking because he rubs my back and whispers, "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault."

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

The next day at school the pack surrounds us like it's their duty to protect us and the other students keep praising us like we stopped a demon from hell from burning the town down. True story, it was just last week that, that had happened.

At first it was comforting to have at least one member of the pack around me but now it's starting to get claustrophobic. I sigh as Scott slides in the chair beside me and officially squishes me between him and Isaac. I groan and glare down at my notebook before wiggling, "Okay, that's it."

Both boys look at me and I frown, "Look, I love you guys and I love that you're trying to make me feel better but I'm okay now. Yeah I know what she said was harsh but I'm over it. Does it still hurt? Yes, but I also know that she's wrong and was just saying something in the heat of the moment. I love you guys but I need some breathing room."

Isaac nods and scooches over slightly so he's not pressed right against me but Scott cocks his head to the side like the puppy he is and says, "But you're still sad. I can smell it."

I snort, "I miss Stiles, I haven't seen him in like two hours and Lily is pacing right now and acting like a mopey puppy."

His eyebrows furrow, "Lily?"

I muffle a laugh at the look on his face before answering him, "That's what Stiles and I decided to name the wolf. You guys say that I smell like lilies so we started calling her Lily."

Scott nods and finally moves so he isn't touching me, "Well, you only have like one more period before school is over and you can go find Stiles."

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

I dart down the hall to Stiles' locker to see him putting his books away. I smile as Lily's tail starts wagging and she rolls over as the smell of our mate fills our senses. I blink back into the moment and the next thing I know I'm wrapped around Stiles.

"Woah! Someone's feeling cuddly."

I whine into his neck, "Missed you."

He presses a kiss to my temple and rubs my back, "I missed you too, Angel."

I nuzzle his neck before pulling back and pulling him into a kiss. He groans into the kiss and pulls me closer by the hips which causes me to wrap my arms around his neck. We get lost in the kiss before pulling apart as someone groans, "Really?! You couldn't wait until you got home?"

I turn to see a grumpy Scott who's holding Kira's hand. Kira elbows him with a soft smile, "Be nice, they haven't seen each other in a couple hours and we already know how hard that is for both of them."

I smile at Kira as Stiles turns back to his locker and Scott huffs, "Yeah, fine."

Kira shakes her head slightly before she looks at me, "Hey! How are you doing now?"

I shrug, "Meh, it doesn't really bother me anymore I've just been planning a wedding in my head, looking up houses for sale in the area, and figuring out where the hell Amelia and her pack are going to be staying, so I'm full of excited nervousness."

Kira doesn't get a chance to answer because Lydia, Allison, and Erica join our little group and Lydia raises an eyebrow, "Have you decided what you want for your bachelorette party yet? As maid of honor I need to know these things. Plus we need to decide when to get a dress fitting and what styles you want. Not to mention we need to find a venue and color scheme."

Stiles slams his locker shut before spinning around with a raised eyebrow, "Y/n/n, already decided on a few of those things."

I nod and shrug, "Yeah, Stiles and I found a venue we like and I decided on the colors a few weeks ago too."

Lydia smiles and loops her arm with mine, "Great! We need to hang out and plan the rest of the wedding."

I open my mouth before closing it again and looking at Stiles. He smiles and shakes his head, "Already told you Angel, you can do whatever you want. You don't need to have me there and I personally don't feel like sitting there and listen to you guys talk about dress styles and fabric choices."

I frown as Lydia nods with a bright smile, "Good, fantastic, what do you say we get together tonight and work on it."

I whine slightly at that which causes Lydia to look at me in concern, "What's wrong?"

I look at Stiles with sad eyes and Lydia hums, "Okay, got it. You need some Stiles time."

I nod and Lydia shrugs, "What about this weekend? We can do a sleepover on Friday and plan on Saturday, maybe a little on Friday night too."

Stiles is surprisingly the one to answer, "I think it's a good idea. We need to get used to being apart for long periods of time and the boys and I can have a boys night or something."

I sigh knowing he's right before nodding, "Yeah, he's right but no promises I won't be a buzzkill for a little while."

Lydia scoffs, "Please, Erica will be there and from what I hear she has some updates about her and Boyd. You'll be too occupied to be a buzzkill."

My eyes widen and I look up to see a blushing Erica who refuses to make eye contact. I look at Stiles and see that he's thinking the same thing as me, about fucking time.

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

A/N- If everything goes to plan there is two (possibly three) parts before things get angsty and sad. I'll give a warning at the beginning of the sad one!

Tag List: @ah-blossom

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dylan o’brien #scott mccall #stiles stilinksi x reader #dylan o’brien x reader #stiles x reader #allison argent #lydia martin #erica reyes #isaac lahey #vernon boyd #kira yukimura #mischief and angel

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koscheimaryas · 2 months

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PAMELASBDAYBASH — a lost page

Dear Seth, I’ve finally come to terms with something I’ve known for the better part of my life: I have one of the nastiest, most ardent, obsessive natures. After so many years, accepting this is not much of a hassle to me. Becoming an adult also means understanding myself to an almost molecular level, and thus getting reacquainted with my good and bad habits is a must, so that I can learn what to weed out and what to keep in order to maintain my health (and sanity). A few of these habits, however, die hard. And there is at least one that I can’t bear to part ways with.

If you had to guess, you’d probably get it right. It’s not that difficult to suspect that I’m talking about you. But it’s not about you as an individual, per se; I am simply referring to the man I came back to every single time when reality proved to be way too gruesome, to the friend I cherished for more than a decade through letters and e-mails. I’ve documented my days for you for too long to be able to drop it as casually as you did, but the only difference is that I don’t really send these to anyone in particular, least of all people you. No: they pile up in my draft box, serving as a virtual diary of sorts. It is no surprise that I’d rather walk on hot coals than contact you again.

It’s been at least eight years since we last saw each other. The funniest thing is that I can’t quite remember when or how our last meeting happened. I can’t remember what you were wearing, where we were, what you told me. I can’t remember feeling sad or anxious or elated about it. All that I know is that it must’ve been the last straw, for I haven’t sought you out ever since then, not even once. For someone that used to depend on you like you held the answers to all of my most troubled questions, I can certainly pat myself on the back and admit I’ve done a good job.

Still, when it’s late at night and the world feels too big for me, I can’t help but wonder just what is going on in your life. If you’re also working too hard, if you also think of me when you finally lie down, getting ready for a sad, worn out sleep, made even more miserable by the sickening replay of my memory in your head, over and over again… I wouldn’t even be able to name the specific afflictions, if you asked me. I also believe that you have your own, different versions of a torment that probably don’t even include me. I’m the only one lost in this narrow stream, swimming endlessly, unable to find the end of you. Where do I even begin?

Seth, I’ve been trying hard to find some solace in the most dubious displays of normalcy. I read more, still play too much ball, go out with my friends, even tried learning a new language; one that very few people can speak, just so that I can share some curious tidbits of something unknown with the ones around me. Did you know? The Greeks have a word for the complaint without answer: paropono. It stems from the heart’s labor, from the strange attraction of sadness, the grievance. It resounded strongly within me for so long because I, too, understand what it is to shout my frustrations into nothingness; my whole life used to be defined by running after you tirelessly, begging for something, anything you could give me.

I suppose I could end this charade quite easily if I wanted to. Even though you’re not really active on social media, I could simply ask your mother and your father how have you been, what have you been up to. It would be quick, like ripping off a band-aid; they would tell me you’re doing great, that you’ve met someone. That you’re going to be married soon, and that I should expect an invitation… The more I think about it, the more I realize just how therapeutic it is to not know a thing about you anymore. I fear that learning that you’ve moved on would be fatal to me.

For as long as my cowardice lasts, I’ll keep picturing a version of you that is more like what I want you to be: lonely, lost and just as miserable as me. After all, we’ve always been quite good at matching each other’s energy.

Until next time,

Ten

@henrystravss

#pamisbdaybash #𝐨𝐭𝐩: seth x bianca #𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫: pamela

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glassedplanets · 4 months

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OKAY TATTOO AU BECAUSE NOW IM INVESTED, DAMN IT:

please tell me if ASL has some kind of matching something somewhere. tell me everything about ace, you know i love him. and law of course. is cora okay. where's doflamingo in all this.

OKAY THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG.

Ace Survives because we said so and this is for giggles and good feelings

he does extreme sports and jets around the world with yamato to Fuck Around And Find Out, stops by to visit luffy every so often

(this is how The Incident happens; he's in town for some kind of extreme sports Event and of course invites luffy, law's dragged along for the ride, it becomes so much more than anyone bargains for) (but this time the other straw hats are able to be there for luffy maybe only two hours late instead of two years)

but ASL do have a matching something!! it starts w/ luffy absently doodling something on his thigh with a pen one day, thinking about his childhood, and then he bolts into the shop (which is closed by this point), rings up his brothers to shoot the shit, and at one point one of them is like, hey, i hear your machine, thought you were closed? someone run late? but luffy's like :D nah i drew something that made me think of you both so i'm tattooing it on myself. (sabo: BRO WHAT. ace: YOOOO SICK AS HELL 🔥) this becomes a Repeat Process by way of asking sabo (and then ace) to tell him a story from their childhood and then luffy creates something out of that. they're all abstract and vague but very obviously echoes of the same shape in ways that reflect each of the three of them. they all cry during this process (but it's fine)

: ) law and cora.

(this is almost entirely giffy's work, hats off to them)

dofy has a bitcoin empire and is also the sleaziest nastiest dealer you have ever met

(in college he sold oregano to rich shitheads)

(kaido runs a food supplement pyramid scheme cult)

law's family is not around due to canon-adjacent events and he ends up at a group home that's actually like a wild tax write off kind of situation for the donquixote family

this is where cora meets him in kind of an advocate capacity? and sees law on the cusp of getting involved in shady shit, and law really doesn't care because he probably won't live

cora's response to this is well, let's work on getting you better and then you can decide whether life is worth living because i promise you it is

and it's a whole process! but law gets better and cora fights for law to get money from the amber lead settlement along with what his family had left him

i don't think we ended up working out how, exactly, cora dies, just that he does; cora leaves a ton of money to law because anything he can take out of dofy's hands is better than nothing, and god knows law deserves it

so law has, like, Schmoney. what he chooses to do with this Schmoney is open a third-wave coffee shop in a flagging part of town, hire all his friends, and square away his finances down to the penny so that everyone can live comfortably and his prices are low enough that anyone who passes by can reasonably get themselves something nice

this is a great plan until a guy walks in one day with his phone ringing and answers it with "fuck off, i am not lost"

(thousand sunny is directly across the street.)

law does not ever know a normal day in his life after this moment.

(luffy doesn't give law a tattoo over the heart because law isn't crew, per se, but one day law eventually tells luffy about cora, and luffy takes him all in, his tattoos, his whole Everything, and he gets that Luffy Air about him where he's an unstoppable force, and law ends up with a very small blink-and-you-miss-it heart behind one ear)

and what, pray tell, is the shop called?

#one piece tag #tattoo au tag #:)c #not art

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e2019 · 1 year

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i slept so terribly last night that i'm still exhausted as if i hadn't slept at all. i kept waking up every hour or so, and i had a new dream every time.

in high school i used to have nightmares about colorguard all the time. it doesn't happen so often anymore, but last night i dreamed that i randomly showed up to practice, and everyone who i went to high school with was there even though it was the present day in my dream, so everyone was in their mid 20s. they were all part of an independent winterguard now, but they still practiced on the blacktop at the school for whatever reason.

when i showed up, everyone acted like i was supposed to have been there the whole time. they asked me where i had been and i just said, "oh... life got the better of me..." then the director immediately put me in the show and said i better learn the work fast because i would flunk out of college if i didn't perform well (i had already graduated college in my dream). it all turned out ok though because my dream-self is really good at colorguard even though i sucked at it irl.

i went with my brother to go get coffee at a new coffee place that just opened up. i get a black coffee, and he gets some really sweet dessert drink with lots of milk and cream and sugar. i make fun of him for it because irl both of us pretty much only drink the nastiest plain black coffee. he smiles at me and says "try something difference."

i worked cleaning people's swimming pools. i showed up to one of my über rich client's mansions early in the morning just as they were leaving for work. i said good morning, and they let me inside because it was an indoor pool. there was a huge gumball machine next to the pool which presumably had never been there before because i immediately went to go investigate. it was full of dilaudid pills the 8mg shields, so of course now i'm wondering "how many of these can i steal before my client would notice?"

then the dream skips to later that evening. i'm hiding in the bathroom where i've apparently been shooting up all day. suddenly i hear a car pull up in the driveway, and then the front door of the house opens. i realize i lost track of time and i'm so fucked now that my client is home and will see that the pool is still dirty and all the dilaudid is gone. the house is big enough that if i make a break for it immediately, i can leave out a side door without being seen. but i'm like "no i need just one more shot before i go." i can't find a vein though because i was going hard all day so my arms are already beat the fuck up, plus now i'm freaking out so i'm shaking and my palms are sweaty, and i've been reusing the same dull needle so many times. i keep digging around, and i become increasingly desperate as it gets more and more painful and there's blood everywhere except for in the syringe, and then the dream ends. (why didn't i just put the pills in my pocket and run?)

my brother asks me to go see a movie with him. when we get to the theater, i find out that he bought a private screening with like 10 of his best friends who i didn't even know existed. they all knew i was gonna be there, and they were waiting for me to show up. i wonder why he never told me about his friends before (but he obviously told them about me) and then suddenly decided to introduce us like this. they all seem super excited to meet me though, and i know i'll probably get along with anyone who gets along with my brother, so i'm nervous but i think this could be fun.

i'm a cheap bastard, so i pretty much never buy popcorn or anything when i go to the movies (not to mention i never even buy a ticket, i just walk right in because nobody ever says anything lol). but suddenly all of my brother's friends are like, "hey whoa hold on!!! this is a private screening, so we all brought snacks just for you! :)" and they materialize all of these snacks straight out of their ass, but it's all things that i don't like but that my brother likes and that he knows that i don't like... and then i realize they're all making fun of me, but i don't want to be rude so i say thanks and watch the movie with them anyways.

maybe more? will add later if anything else comes back to me...

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inkbotsjunkyard · 2 years

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ALRIGHT STRAP IN. LETS START WITH THE MERCS SINCE THAT WAS SPECIFICALLY WHAT THAT POST WAS ABOUT

God alright so this would have been back in like [googles] oh fuck 2011/2010 I guess because for some godforsaken reason I was absolutely utterly obsessed with TF2. A game I have maybe played a collective four hours of in total. Something about the character archetypes the art style and uh. The fanfics of one author in particular. Y'know. Normal stuff.

Keep reading

I don't remember what the specific start of this idea was because while I can find ATTEMPT on ATTEMPT on ATTEMPT to start this damn fic I cant find the kernel. If I remember right I think it probably started with an overactive imagination and finding what nine? Nine archetypes (well, 8 archetypes and fucking Tavish Degroot ) that as a young writer just starting to figure out my style worked REALLY absurdly well as bases for writing exercises. Also we didn't know anything about the pyro at the time. What I do remember was discussing with a friend I had at the time the nature of the respawn system. Was it clones? Was it just wave after wave of title only mercs feeding the machine? No, Ink age 15 decided, its a respawn mechanic. They clearly have character traits in mind for these guys. So what if we shut it off.

What if every so often the contract ended. And in order to get that contract re-upped you just had to survive. Now that backstory is important because another thing this fic got me started on was team dynamics and synergy. And trauma bonding. If the respawn system was shut off every so often and you had some teammates who you'd cycle through absurdly quickly how would that change the way the mercs treated one another as coworkers. Would a pseudo leadership roll go to someone who had been there the longest and understood the expectations of the job? Or would it just be the nastiest dog in the scrapyard?

So I spent a good amount of time on determining that for each of the teams. Focusing mainly on the Tufort map as a base idea for a setting because I don't know, it made the most sense for me at the time.

So lets start this off with my protag squad. The Boys of Reliable Excavation and Demolition.

Full transparency I don't have art for these that I can easily get too, anyway but my REDS for the most part just. Look like their character art.

Looking back on it I'm realizing that my RED team actually has a solid survival rate. Which makes a lot of sense, considering their dynamic as a group. My RED's were lead by the team medic. Medic is a Sadist, we know this. He is a mad scientist who may or may not have done some very bad things in his time before becoming a mercenary surgeon. We've all seen the takes. Anton was a sadist. He would treat grievous but non life threatening wounds without anesthesia and relished in keeping tabs on which of his men would faint at the site of blood. But the manic mad science aspect of his job was lost long ago. When we meet Anton its been three days since the last "respawn shut off". He's Cataloging injuries, equipment, height and weights as though it was a shipping manifest and not a series of several autopsies. He can't even put their names down on the forms because they aren't supposed to know them. Very difficult to still believe you are making Gods when the divine has been dissected, pulled apart and sewn back together so often you could barely discern your own face from the blur of them all constantly running through your head. He was not an unkind man. Well, no he definitely was but he understood that even if he was at one time attempting to make gods out of these men they were still men and made an effort to not treat them as so much cattle like their employers seemed too. He had his men use eachothers names as opposed to only their titles. Would leave the door to his office unlocked when he worked because while Psychiatric medicine was very obviously not a field he was well versed in he knew it would aid no one if his men took to diagnosing themselves with a lead prescription to be applied between the eyes. And at the very least it was more efficient than giving a bunch of addicts free access to the medicine cabinet. Ivan Korovsky was my heavy, and he was another big part of Anton getting his humanity back now that I think about it. I love a smart Heavy who just happens to not know a ton of english. Ivan was that. He had the emotional intelligence of someone who in another life probably would have studied literature and read those complicated Russian bricks where everyone dies at the end. Imagine if your therapist was able to suplex you into taking care of yourself. Thats Ivan. I have less to say about him but that speaks a lot to his roll in that monster of a fic at the time. Yes he and anton were fucking was that even a question. Naturally my soldier was Jane Doe, as is traditional. Jane thought he was in charge and Anton had decided a very long time ago not to argue with him about it anymore. It helped that for the most part Jane's "war room councils" would only happen if they lost and would only last until he directed his attention away from the room at large to yell at someone specific for long enough that everyone could slip away. Jane's delusions were always tricky for me to write but I was also a highschooler who hadn't taken that many abpysc classes yet. I don't remember if the shovel had a name in the game but his did. Her name was Doris, and he fully believed she was a human being and his wife. Who wanted him to kill the unamerican enemy. Any unamerican enemy, she evidently wasn't picky on which one. My main interest in Jane comes from the epilogue stuff but THAT needs more context that we don't have yet so moving on. Russel "Doc" Cunningham was my engineer. Doc was the epitome of "a guy you'd have a beer with." Give you the shirt off his back, but would lecture you into next week and down the road some ways as he was unbuttoning it. A southern charmer, almost folksy at times. If you heard him talking to any of the younger mercs you'd think he was talking to a couple of rambunctious teenagers, and might even think "there's a man who'd be a good father" You would be wrong in thinking this. Well, no you wouldn't be wrong. Doc loves his girls. His girls who are all semi-autonomous military sentry units and several "creative" tools for his coworkers. The way he talks about him you're almost glad he doesn't carry a wallet because otherwise you know he'd have pictures. But if, hypothetically, he had a son or something outside of his assignment. You wouldn't hear him talk about it. Doc self identifies as a bachelor. He did get married once because its what you did. But he didn't love her, and his ex wife very much was aware of it and made his life hell when they were still married. Doc probably was incredibly young when he was married, and I don't think he was fully ready to accept who he was enough to have been a good parent even if he had been around. But rules were different on the field and no one seemed much bothered by what he chose to occupy his personal time with as long as it wasn't causing a gas leak in the basement (again) which let him relax into himself a bit more. He still doesn't care that much for the "fritterin" his coworkers are always distracting themselves with. Something his younger coworkers give him constant hell about but he figures maybe he's just...well old fashions isn't quite the word. (Asexual/somewhat Demi Engineer? Its more likely than you think.....) Sniper (Richard "Slim" Mundy) Middle aged assassin who sleeps in a camper van. Drinks too much coffee, and Anton has him come in weekly for wellness checks. In the canon of this monster he was spending a good amount of time coming to terms with a relationship he'd had with a teammate who had died in the previous contract fight. A teammate who was much younger than him. (Not young enough to be a crime mind you but for a guy who is very specific about how not sick in the head he is you can imagine the slight crisis that would come from that) . Aggressively anti-social nowadays unless he's coerced with whiskey.

Daniel O'Sullivan Was my scout and the youngest of my mercs at eighteen years old. Joined up because it was either this or juvie, and while his mom still worries about him at least she can sleep easy about him working private security instead of being gunned down in some jungle overseas. (Dan was very nonspecific about what he does for a living.) Danny-Boy was quick tempered and pugnacious, and now that I think about it I probably actively wrote him with ADHD. Constantly fidgeting and constantly "messin around" with a pen and paper during meetings. Danny specifically slept on the breakroom couch instead of in a bunk. I handwaved this at the time but I think it was probably because he grew up fidgety and restless and its much easier to get up constantly in the middle of the night to wander around if you don't have to worry about getting cussed out for it. Danny also has a soft spot when it comes to his family. He misses them, and talked about them constantly. Now I joked that Dan was aggressively heterosexual, but I think this is partly because he's an Irish Catholic and any sexual thoughts at all are a sin so forget unpacking any sort of weird gay ass thoughts he has about his best friend Vic. TURNS OUT THERES A CHARACTER LIMIT lemme know if you want me to keep going rip

#asked and answered #inkbot process

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caffeinebuff · 4 months

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Guilt

I never got to apologize for the way I behaved years ago. If I could go back in time, I'd apologize for leading you on when I was emotionally unavailable. The worst part of it all... I was far from attracted to you. I didn't find you attractive until I was intoxicated and at the time you were my drinking buddy. Because I was in a different headspace, I enjoyed your company since, of course, I knew there was always alcohol involved. No hang out went by without the glue holding us together; alcohol. This of course was before I realized how funny and charming of a person you are. How much of a good friend you are. How much of a good lover you are.

I'll never forget the nastiest thought I had and I will forever feel awful about it. You put me on a pedestal and enjoyed me for who I was, while I was sickened by your appearance. I do recall having a thought where I called you ugly and was grossed out by you. A thought that came to mind before hooking up but at the time didn't care because alcohol and sex was involved. I wish I could go back in time to end things after that thought and to take time to self-reflect because that alone was horrendous. I am very disappointed with my younger self. The sad truth is, while I was having those cruel thoughts, there was a boy falling head over heals for a girl who was stringing him along.

I'm sorry I leading you on when I wasn't ready. I'm sorry for confessing my feeling towards you and then ghosting you. I'm sorry I used you to be my drinking buddy. I'm sorry I was never honest with you. I'm sorry for being manipulative and for putting myself in situations that gave you an untrustworthy view of me. I'm sorry I rejected you on Valentine's because I wanted to ask YOU to be my boyfriend. I'm sorry I was passive. I'm sorry I didn't give you a gift on your birthday. I'm sorry for not prying more in your life. I never asked how school was going for you. What you were majoring in; What you wanted to do; What you were thinking of; How you were feeling; How you felt about is; because the depressing truth is, I was just there. Never engaging in the relationship. At the time all I really offered was sex.

Despite everything that happened between us, you made an effort to keep me in your life, which in retrospect, was a red flag. You knew before things got serious I didn't respect you and the lack of self-love should have been a red flag for me. I didn't see the red flag in us because I was naive and never rspoke about our toxic relationship to anyone because I was guilty of all I'd done.

Now years later we are no longer together. Surprise? Shouldn't be. Instead you're with someone else's baby momma (I say this to comfort myself as you guys are living happily ever after(?) ) We tried going strong as an exclusive couple but it had a 10 month lifespan. The gutwrentching truth is you made it to the year mark with his baby momma; You take her on dates; you take pictures with her and of her all the time; and you take her on trips with the child. You are actually a boyfriend to her. You make her feel like a queen and in all your efforts, you never made me feel like one.

It hurts knowing (knowing because i'm fucking toxic) how different you're treating someone else. They're living in a fairytale while I had the bare minimum. When I saw it with my own eyes I bawled because I felt insecure and worthless. Why was I never invited to your anual scenic trips? Why did you let me know a day prior? That broke my heart.

BUT I have to be realistic and accept the truth, I wasn't deserving of any of the special treatment. I was an awful person to Cuahutemoc and although I had a redemption arc in the exclusive relationship, it was never enough to sustain the livelhood of the partnership.

I did love you Cuahutemoc. every inch of you, while we were a couple and I am sorry I never made you feel loved/reassured. The feeling I had for you as your girlfriend was true. You made me happy and giddy, until that feeling faded. Thank you for giving me a chance to be a part of your life. I know I failed you, but I failed you from the very beginning and your forgiving self took a leap of faith, which blossomed into an unhealthy beautiful relationship.

I get triggered when i think of you because it's a reminder of how awful I was allowed to treat you. Yes we had a pleasant view months together but they don't outweigh the bad times. i'm sorry Cuahutemoc...

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red-gstring · 1 year

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everyone on this site is so fucking weird.... everyone on this planet is. even him. i feel so alone. i really do. no amount of strangers telling me that it's gonna be alright will help me. no one knows for sure. no one really cares. and that's good. i dont want people to care. i just want one other person who gets it. that's not asking for a lot, right? i cant explain everything in life but it shouldnt be this hard. i dont want to be with someone like that. you dont have to accept someone's past just because you love them. i hope i actually stay with this, because it will just keep coming up. i wonder what's in store for him. and me. this part of my life feels so expired. i've overstayed. it's time to move on. i'm just holding onto habit, he even said it. if i can't accept his friends and his past and his lies, i just need to move on. there's no magic cure for that. i can't just wake up one day and forgive him. or forget about it. or not care. that's not how it works. if it were then i would've done it already. this feels like my only safe space. im confused and disgusted and betrayed. i dont like this feeling. that's the way he makes me feel. i need to go. i need to keep going. i'll do the things i want to do, but i can do them alone. i dont need him. i dont need anyone. my person will find me when i least expect it. im sure they're going through hell rn too. soulmates usually experience similar things at the same time. i hope they're ok. i can't wait to meet them. i hope they know that.

fuck everyone that i've had in my head for the past 8 months. fuck all of it. none of it matters. and once he's gone then all of these people who haunt my thoughts will be gone too. they can continue with their fucked up little relationships and their shitty lives. i deserve better than this. i got lost, that's all. i want real love and pure trust. gentleness and softness and understanding. i want patience. i want to be myself. i want to laugh until my stomach hurts. i want to wake up and make breakfast together. and then crawl back into bed and have the nastiest sex known to man. i want to roadtrip as far as we can and camp under the stars. i want everyday to be worth it because there is so much love and happiness. please :( I really need that.

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firemama · 2 years

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i like watching xiaomanyc on youtube because im so fucking fascinated not only by other cultures but just generally other languages, and also how fucking FLEXIBLE he i with his own language learning?

(Like, I have been learning spanish for 5 years and have been constantly immersed in various spanish groups here in florida and yet i fucking struggle to retain almost anything despite formal lessons and learning and losing so many words that all my knowledge is at this point unbearably vague now. so it shakes me to my core that this guy can take a couple weeks and be loosely conversational in the tamil language which is notoriously difficult for learners and can just swap up multiple chinese language variants at the drop of a hat)

but anyway the thing i wanted to mumble about is how sureal it is to watch these videos, because you see this guy speak to someone in Fujianese and that person is thrilled, or how sweet someone is about how he can adjust his accent OR just kinda likes his naturally formed one (from having switched around so many lanaguages). Like, he goes to indian resteraunts with his couple-weeks-old language skills and i presume hes not perfect or amazing but they are none the less so delighted so see him trying and testing new words he hears them use.

And english just...... is not fucking like that. If you’re learning english you will run into the meanest, nastiest people. Even if your english is good, but you have a persistent accent, there are fucking trash-ass-people who will snear about that, as if this person isnt LEARNING or HAS LEARNED a completely different means of communication.

Again, my language learning skills are fucking atrocious, and despite years trying to learn sign or spanish, i am fucking awful. But i remember being a kid in tiny orange grove town where roughly 90% of the population was almost strictly hispanic and all the kids i knew from my own town were still 3 out of 5 on the fluency scale. Those kids i knew who were going to the same school would stop dead in sentences after realizing they didnt know a word and would rather be caught dead than mispeaking around some of the fucking freaks in out classes who would raise hell about ‘speaking english in america’ or that one fucked up math teacher i had in 7th grade that would send students to detention for speaking to eachother in spanish or vietnamese (which was really common in a small area of town).

My language skills have always been shoty (even with english at times, which is arguably my first language) and i definitely could not be a comprensive translator for my friends who were struggling in spanish, but i vaugely remember being the go-to for a small group of kids who desperately needed to slueth out a word they couldnt remember / needed to learn because I was the only kid in our general group that would tolerate the game of charades it took to find out who needed to know what and offer an english word. Lord help them if they needed to know how to write it, because my writing and spelling to this day in english are still awful.

And like... it fucking sucks? it fucking SUCKS that, firstly, I was the only kid they could ask- heavens help someone asking a fucking TEACHER to teach them for fear of mistreatment. But also it sucks that they had to rely on ME at all, because communication let alone language is not my fortei, ive learned more words from reading than ive spoken or heard from other humans in my own fucking native tongue. It’s depressing as hell that kids had to rely on someone who’s gone to speach and language therapy to learn parts of a language just because English speakers have this bizarre cultural disgust with nonfluency and we dont teach our fucking kids how to learn languages, or any languages at all- not even our own fucking english american sign language which is ARGUABLY just the same language spoken another way!

Summary: SHUT THE FUCK UP, top scowling at people who arent fluent, and teach kids about languages. And if your a teacher: ill fucking KILL YOU if you discourage kids to stop speaking their natural tongue or to speak the language YOU want them to.

#munchatter #listen i have an extremely complicated relationship with language #and i also have a lot of feelings about it

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starryhyuck · 3 years

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limit. (m)

pairing: gryffindor!mark x reader

words: 3.4k+

summary: with gryffindor on a continuous losing streak, you have no choice but to push your quidditch player boyfriend to his breaking point.

genre: smut

warnings: public sex, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex, degradation, daddy kink, face slapping

“If you keep pushing him, he’ll snap.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

You observe Mark across the Great Hall, fingers clenched tightly around his spoon. The other Gryffindor seated beside him are eyeing him warily, afraid the resident happy Head Boy was slowly losing his mind.

This, of course, is partly due to you.

You’ve refused to give Mark an orgasm until Gryffindor wins a Quidditch match, which has effectively been very hard since the team has been on a losing streak. You and Mark aren’t animals, per se, but the two of you fucked regularly and the fact that he hasn’t gotten the chance to touch you in weeks is taking a toll on him.

Lucas swings an arm around his shoulder and whispers something to him, but Mark’s eyes are locked in on you. You could almost feel the magic radiating off of his form. You smile deviously, arm reaching to wrap around Donghyuck’s, who gladly accepts your touch. Luckily, Donghyuck enjoys pushing Mark’s buttons almost as much as you do.

Donghyuck’s in the middle of feeding you a bite of his chicken when all of the glasses in the Great Hall shatter. A jumbled murmur of shrieks and gasps of surprise echo at the performance of wandless magic. Students whip their heads around, frantically trying to find the source of the fiasco. You already know who the culprit is, watching as Mark stomps out of the Great Hall, fists clenched tightly.

—

Donghyuck snickers beside you.

“You’re really asking for it. Wearing Slytherin gear and sitting with the snakes? He’s going to ruin you.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comment and adjusting the green tie wrapped around your neck. You briefly lock eyes with your irate boyfriend, who is currently on the Quidditch pitch, waiting for the match to begin. You smile and wave at him innocently, only to receive the nastiest look in return.

Donghyuck laughs again at the exchange. “I’ve never seen Mark look like that. Are you sure you’re ready for the consequences?”

You grin as the game begins, the cheering sounds from the Slytherin stands almost drowning out your voice.

“He needs a little push. Gryffindor has lost three games in a row already.”

You prove Donghyuck right a hour into the game. Mark has been scoring goal after goal since the match started. Slytherin’s Keeper tries to block every single throw, but Mark is clearly on a mission, showing no mercy to the Slytherin house. He almost looks like he would Avada someone on the spot just to win.

Every time he scores, he makes a point to look straight at you before zooming off. You smirk to yourself, already feeling your panties dampen at the sight. One part of you is slightly afraid of what Mark will do to you once Gryffindor wins. The other part of you is unabashedly excited.

The Slytherins around you groan and complain as Mark continuously scores. Donghyuck is enjoying the show, knowing you’re truly in for it later after seeing the murderous look painted on Mark’s face.

The game ends after two hours, with the Gryffindor Seeker securing the Snitch and winning the match. The sea of red erupts in a roar of applause and cheers, while the Slytherins grumble and curse their luck. It was the first loss of the season for the Slytherins, and they could all thank your boyfriend for that.

Usually, when Mark wins a game, you would wait outside the locker rooms and congratulate him with a kiss. This time, you want to make him work for it a little more.

Donghyuck chuckles when he sees you turn the opposite direction of the locker rooms.

“You’re in for it now.”

—

You’re laughing at something Doyeon’s telling you when you feel the abrupt tug on your arm. You hiss at the contact, ready to hex whoever it is. Realization seeps within you when you see the look of fury on Mark’s face as he tugs you away from your friends.

“I’ll see you guys later!” You call out, already feeling the slick of your wetness coating your thighs.

“Okay! Great game, Mark!”

The Gryffindor boy doesn’t even thank them, pulling open the door to the empty Potions classroom and shoving you inside. You put on your innocent persona.

“That wasn’t very nice. I was having an interesting conversation with Doyeon, if you must know.”

“On the desk. Now.”

The anger laced in his tone has your body vibrating. You decide to push him even further, frowning and clutching your books tighter to your chest. You still have Donghyuck’s Slytherin scarf wrapped around you, which Mark is heavily glaring at.

“I don’t even get a please? Where are your manners, Mark?”

You gasp when he steps forward, fingers bunching around the locks of your hair and pulling. Hard.

“You think this is so funny, don’t you? Watching me fall apart, breaking all the glasses in the Great Hall and receiving detention for it? How about wanting to injure someone on the field just so we could win? Just so I can come back to you, fuck you so hard your tight cunt stretches out.” His fingers grip the fabric of your skirt and he growls. You swear you can feel your juices start running down the inside of your thigh with how wet you are. “And what about this? This stupid fucking little skirt. You think you could get away with that too?”

You placed a charm on your clothing early this morning, making your button-up shirt just a little tighter around your chest and your skirt a little shorter than normal. You smile and try to raise your chin as much as possible, struggling as Mark continues to pull your hair.

“Daddy likes it? I did it just for you. Just so Daddy could win today.”

Mark’s eyes are the darkest they have ever been, and you try not to glance down at his trousers, which are probably straining from his growing erection. You only play the Daddy card once or twice, mainly because once it’s out in the open, Mark fucks you until you can’t feel your legs. And most days, you would prefer not to limp from class to class.

Another gasp rips out of your throat when he discards your clothing with the flick of his wand. He casts a silencing charm on the room, and you know you’re done for.

He leaves you in your undergarments, and today, you have chosen to wear a nice lacy number in Slytherin green. The sight makes him hiss in frustration, and it isn’t long before he slams you down on a nearby desk. You whimper at the contact, but Mark hardly cares about your well-being at this point.

He snickers at the sight of your ruined underwear, snapping the garter you’re wearing against your skin as you yelp.

“Look at you. Greedy little slut. Who got you this wet?”

“D-Donghyuck,” you manage to say, gathering enough courage.

The answer earns you a slap across the face and you cry at the pain.

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

“Y-You, Daddy. Just y-you.”

He hums in contentment. You shudder when you feel a finger run up and down your slit. “I’m going to make the rules very clear today. You’ll do your best to obey them, or else I’ll use your body how I please without letting you cum. Understood?” At your timid nod, he continues. “I’m going to fuck your tight little cunt raw. I’m going to cum as much as I like, and make you cum as much as I like. If I hear any protests, I’ll add an extra orgasm to the list. I don’t care if you’ve reached your limit. I don’t care if you can’t handle any more. I’ll do whatever I like, and there will be no arguments about it.”

You chew on your bottom lip. Mark has never fucked you raw before — you both always use Muggle condoms or contraceptive charms.

“But, Mark-“

He slaps your clothed slit and you gasp loudly. “That’s another orgasm added to the list. Do you want another one? We’re already at five.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve never been able to take more than three orgasms from him without passing out. You immediately shake your head, sealing your lips tight.

“Good. Bend over.”

You scramble to follow his orders, shakily positioning yourself over the desk. Another flick of his wand and you’re completely naked. You whimper at the vulnerability, wondering if he also cast locking charms on the doors too. Anyone could walk in and see you bent over like this.

Mark usually likes to see your face when he fucks you so you’ve never really tried this position with him. Goosebumps rise on your skin when you feel his hands exploring your backside.

“Wish everyone could see you like this for me. Bent over during dinner while I fuck you into the table. They always tease me about you. Gryffindor Head Boy could never satisfy his partner. They think I’m such a goody-two-shoes.” You almost scream when a finger unexpectedly pushes into you. “I wonder what everyone would think now — having you bent over the Potions desk like this, eager to be fucked like a little whore. Waiting for my cock to split you apart, isn’t that right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you garble.

He adds another finger, the squelch of your wetness causing you to grow even warmer. He thrusts his fingers inside of you, skillfully digging them into the spot you love.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about your cunt? Ever since you made that ridiculous bet with me, I knew I was done for. I had to excuse myself so many times from class just to rub one out in the bathroom. Seeing you in this cute little skirt, so eager to earn House Points, so willing to please the professor. I imagined how tight your pussy would feel when I wrapped a hand around myself, how many of those sweet moans I could bring out of you.”

When he pushes a third finger in, you shriek as you cum without warning. You were probably moaning without any sense, writhing on top of the desk as Mark fingers you through your orgasm. He drank up every single one of your sounds, gazing down at you with a feral look in his eyes.

Even as your orgasm subsides, Mark doesn’t stop fucking you. You almost request for him to give you a break, but you know it’ll just earn you another orgasm.

He watches you, waiting for you to beg for him to stop. He smiles when you obey, continuing to thrash and whine as his digits pump into you.

“So pretty, perfect for me. You’re always so tight, it’s not fair to me, you know? I could fuck you every single day and you would still need to be stretched out regardless.” He leans over your frame, mouth beginning to press open mouthed kisses at your throat. The sensation has you jolting, his fingers grinding down to rub at your clit. “But you would like that, wouldn’t you? So hungry for my cock.”

This was true — you couldn’t seem to get enough of Mark on a daily basis. Even if you didn’t fuck every single day, you always had the urge to get on your knees for him and suck his cock. It calmed you in a way. Before exams, Mark would pull you into a nearby alcove and let you suck him off until your worries disappeared.

You could feel your high approaching again. “P-P-Please,” you stutter, gasping and pushing yourself further down his fingers. “Please, Daddy.”

At the sound of your begging, Mark sinks to his ground. He jerks your body until you’re halfway off the desk, pushing your thighs apart so he can see you fully. He takes a moment to marvel at how pretty you are before licking a stripe up your cunt. You groan, fingers tangling into his hair, which is still slightly damp from his after-game shower.

He hums against your folds, exploring them with his tongue. Mark could eat you out for days and remain unbothered by the outside world. There have been multiple times where you’ve woken up to his head in between your legs as he snuck into your dormitory room early in the morning to get a taste of you. There’s also been a few occasions when he would convince you to sneak out while he runs patrol in the hallways, just so he could prop you against a wall and eat you out until you cry.

Your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the feeling of Mark’s mouth on your cunt. He’s groaning with you, hands cupping your thighs and bringing you closer to him. His nose continuously nudges your clit as he licks you, slurping on the remnants of your orgasm.

It doesn’t register for a few seconds that he’s still talking to you.

“This is mine. My cunt for fucking. I’m the only one who’s allowed to see you like this, understand? The only one who gets to make you cum.”

He is, indeed. You topple headfirst into your second orgasm, juices spilling into Mark’s waiting mouth. He cleans you up as your body attempts to recover. You’re lucky he remembered to place a silencing charm, your voice almost giving out with the amount of screams you’ve emitted. He decides to spare you this time, rising from the ground and licking his lips.

“Tastes so good.” He smirks down at you, watching as your chest rises and falls from heavy panting. You feel like you’ve run a marathon, but he looks like he’s only just started. His fingers brush stray hairs away from your face. “Poor baby. All fucked out already? I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

You blink deliriously in response and he laughs. His fingers dig into your hips once more as he adjusts you on your back again.

“How about you answer a question for me? If you answer correctly, I’ll give you my cock. If you fail, I’ll add another orgasm to the list.” You blink again in response, brain fuzzy. He grins. “Why don’t you tell me what a bad girl you’ve been these past few weeks?”

He slaps the inside of your thigh to jolt you out of your reverie. “I-I was a b-bad girl, Daddy.”

“Hm? And why’s that?”

“I ignored y-you,” you whisper as his hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “I cheered for S-Slytherin when I-I should have b-been c-c-cheering for Gryffindor.”

Your breath grows more shaky as Mark’s other hand inches towards your entrance again.

“And?”

“And I f-f-flirted with D-Donghyuck when I’m o-only s-s-supposed to have e-eyes for y-you, Daddy.”

“And?”

“And I charmed m-my clothes t-to tempt you.”

“Because?”

“Because I’m a whore.”

He smiles in contentment. “That’s right.”

Instead of pushing his fingers inside of you, you’re taken aback when the tip of his cock sinks into you. You moan loudly, not even noticing he had taken off his trousers.

“Fuck,” he curses, watching himself push into you. “Such a tight little cunt. Only for Daddy’s eyes, right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

His fingers find their way to your throat, curling and gripping your windpipe. You gasp and hear his sinister chuckle.

“There’s my little whore. Back in her place.”

He almost pushes you off the desk with the force of his thrusts. You have another small orgasm when Mark fully bottoms out, and he laughs when he realizes.

“Already? Looks like you’ve been just as desperate as me, baby.”

You’ve never taken more than three orgasms before. Since Hogwarts was a big school with many prying eyes, it was hard to get alone time with Mark like this. You often had to face the judgmental glares from the portraits whenever Mark fingered you behind one of the tapestries. Now that he has you all to himself, however, he intends to make the most out of it.

You’re pushing on the border of exhaustion, watching as your boyfriend continues to furiously push into you. He moves his hand from your throat to your cheek, slapping you once more to wake you up.

“Have to stay awake, baby. We still have two more to go.”

You mumble incoherently in response, past the point of comprehension. Once the tip of his cock rubs against your sweet spot, you cry out in pleasure. He grunts, angling himself so that he keeps hitting that spot inside of you. Over and over.

“M-Mark, I-“

“I know. Let me feel you, baby. Want to feel your cunt cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

You can’t begin to explain the tightening feeling in your stomach. You feel like you’re flying up to your peak at an unsteady rate. It almost feels like you need to use the bathroom, but before you can warn Mark, you fall apart.

You think you black out for a bit. You blink dazedly, body twitching and nervously moving on top of the desk. You get the strength to lift your head and check on Mark. His cock has slipped out of you, his gaze locked on your pussy.

“M-Mark?” You ask softly.

“Fuck, baby. You just squirted all over me.”

You gasp. You’ve never been able to squirt before and you eye the mess you’ve made all over Mark’s chest. He grunts, fingers pumping up and down his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck. How can you be so perfect?”

And then he’s pushing back into you. You scream loudly, still trying to recover from such an intense orgasm. You realize that you’ve started crying, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Perfect girl for me,” he hisses, hand returning to paw at your breast. “Cunt is so so sweet. Can never get enough of you. Just give me one more, baby. One more.”

You want to tell him you can’t, you’ve reached your limit and can’t push it any farther. You squeal when he pinches your clit.

“Daddy, please-“

“Daddy wants another, baby. One more for me.”

His thumb circles your clit while his cock pistons in and out of you. When he finds your sweet spot again, he doesn’t rest. He’s on a mission to get you to orgasm again, the same expression painted on his face from the Quidditch game just a hour ago. He’s determined to see you fall apart, filth spewing from his mouth.

“I wish I could take you like this every time. Push you up in the hallways, fuck you until you’re a sobbing mess for me. Having everyone watch while I make you squirt, showing them I can fuck you better than anyone else can. I bet they would all be jealous. They could never have you falling apart for them, begging for them to fill you up with their seed.”

It dawns on you that Mark still hasn’t cast a contraceptive charm of any kind. He seems to be on the same wavelength as you, digging his heels to the floor and thrusting harder at the thought of cumming inside you. The lewd sound of your wetness fills the room, along with his grunts and your whimpers from oversensitivity.

“I want to fuck you everywhere before we leave this place. Want you to ride me in the middle of the Quidditch pitch for everyone to see. Want all the Gryffindors to watch as their Head Boy plows into his girlfriend in the common room. Want you to bounce on my cock during every meal. Fuck, I want you so badly, baby.”

When you squirt this time, you’re coherent enough to watch it happen. Drops of your slick pour out of you, gushing onto Mark’s cock and the floor. The sound of his thighs slapping against yours only grows louder and wetter with your orgasm.

Mark hisses. “Want my cum, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you echo back to him, barely staying awake.

He groans when he reaches his high, pushing deep inside of you to empty his load. He cums more than you expected, but you suppose he’s been holding it in for weeks. He finally finishes a minute later, collapsing on top of you. He subconsciously places kisses on your neck.

“Never act up like that again. I don’t think I have the stamina to do another round.”

You giggle, about to respond when the booming voice of your Potions professor echoes throughout the room.

“Mark Lee! What on earth do you children think you’re doing? Fifty points from Gryffindor!”

#nct smut #mark #mark smut

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sukirichi · 3 years

Note

wine: ingredient 44 + sugar 7 + spice 12 for gojo satoru *slams table* thank you for feeding us kind maam

for sukirichi’s milestone event:

the meal order : 🍷 + 44 (hate sex au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 12 (praising kink) your dinner has been served! also bruh LOL you’re a choso simp this is hilarious spspsps

— who are you to deny him when he only wants to worship you?

gojo satoru x fem! reader

contents/warnings: nsfw, slight angst, reader is hot girl shit, gojo long schlong, hate sex, car sex, spanking, riding gojo, slight angst, praising kink taken to a DIFFERENT LEVEL (i want to make people question the extent of their praising kink), body marking, rough sex lol it’s always rough in my stories, unedited

Your friends pushed you out of the club, all of you laughing, hands clutched around your waists as loud, drunken giggles fill in the night air. It was a wild night; your friends invited you to the club to take your mind off your stupid boyfriend. You thought you’d end up moping around, too much of a buzzkill to ever let loose because it wasn’t that easy to stop thinking about him, but even you were surprised when you started grinding with people on the dance floor just three drinks later.

The gals were more than delighted to see you enjoying your night, only dragging you out the club when you nearly shoved your tongue down another man’s throat.

Scratch that – your friends called you to hang out because you lied about having a shitty day at work. You’ve had your fair share of shitty days, but you were one of the most prominent lawyers in your firm, no one dared gave you a bad day. Your subordinates knew that if they even looked your way without your permission, you wouldn’t hesitate to dump paperwork on them, or assign them to the nastiest cases just to piss them off.

Yeah, you were sort of a bitch, but you didn’t care.

It took a lot to get where you were now. It wasn’t easy to be a woman in a male-dominated workplace and you were forced to strip your softness off, replacing it with hard armor and sharp tongue concealed under bold red lips, a tight pencil skirt that accentuated your curves, and a pair of black suede pumps.

You deserved all your success. You were smart, stunning, confident, powerful – so then why did you feel like shit around your shitty boyfriend?

The answer was loud and clear. It bothered you to no end that he wanted to keep your relationship a secret because his family was too different from yours, coming up with a shitty excuse that you were just “too different.” He never bothered explaining, and every time you confronted him about, he’d only wave his hand, distract you with those delicious and soft lips of his until you forget it over and over again.

You were okay with it at first. It wasn’t a really serious relationship; you only started dating him because you saw yourself a lot in him – confident, self-assured, maybe even a little cocky – plus, he was extremely attractive.

But the longer you spent time with him, you were beginning to fall in love.

Yes, you, the ice princess of one of the most respected law firms all over the city was beginning to soften up at a certain blue-eyed man who had magical hands.

But tonight – tonight you’d forget about him.

Your stomach was heavy with expensive liquor and you were nearly staggering on your knees, the only thing preventing you from falling were your more sober friends. The others were holding you close to keep you upright, while one of your friends moved to a quieter part of the block to call an Uber for you. Your friends were all happily married, some with children, so they couldn’t really stay out too late at night and chaperone you all the way back home.

You were well-aware you were being a bother, but fuck, couldn’t you lean on someone for just once? Sighing, you leaned closer to your warm friend, mumbling something about wanting to forget about everything you’ve been through.

“There, there,” she patted your head comfortingly, “You’ll be fine, babe, you’re a strong woman. I know you’ll get through this.”

“But I hate it,” you drunkenly admitted, lips trembling the more you thought about him, every stupid little thing about him – his soft white hair, those pretty blue eyes he always hid under shades even at night, his large, calloused hands that always felt so rough when keeping your legs open for him and you couldn’t even start talking about his cock, he was just so blessed and perfect in every little thing that you hated it. You hated him. “I don’t like this feeling,” you sniffled, “I feel like I’m being looked down on, that I’m being pushed to the side. I feel unimportant, like I’m not good enough.”

“Who said you aren’t?”

You froze in your friend’s arms, eyes meeting with those blue ones you could never get enough of. As if noticing your silence, your friend immediately covers you with her arm, glaring at your boyfriend. “Do we know you or something?”

“No,” Satoru replies coolly, brows furrowed in the state you were in. You turned away from him with a scoff, arms crossed on your chest. Why did he have to be here out of all places? Wasn’t he busy with work or whatever family shit he apparently couldn’t tell you about even though you’ve both been dating for a year and a half now? He just wasn’t giving you a break, and the hairs on your arm stood up when he said, “Not that you have to, but may I please drive Y/N home?”

“She’s not going anywhere—”

“She’s a friend of mine,” he insisted, turning to you with a pleading look in his eyes. You almost melted. Almost. “I need to talk to her about something.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped forward, your friend’s arm latching onto yours. You could tell she was worried from the way her gaze darted back and forth between you two. Satoru was, after all, clearly uninvited, and he didn’t seem like your type either. You always insisted you preferred refined man, men like his friend Nanami Kento, but alas, you were stuck dating this one instead.

“It’s fine,” you told her with a fake smile, “I’ll call you later when I get home.”

You never got to call her – simply because you didn’t make it home. The moment Satoru closed the car doors behind you, you both got into a heated argument. Satoru hated silences and always made sure the car was filled with music, but this time, he didn’t notice there weren’t any songs when you opened your mouth.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the anger and pent-up tension of not being able to hold him and kiss him in public like normal couples did, in addition to the fact Satoru never explained why he insisted on keeping you a secret – whatever it was, you just snapped.

“I don’t even understand why I’m still dating you!” you huffed, legs crossed on top of the other as you gazed out the window. Lips trembling, you tried so hard to not cry, especially not in front of the man who was breaking your heart. “This is hardly a relationship when I’m not free to call or text you as you please, when I can’t go out with you on dates and we’re always hanging in my apartment. I’m your girlfriend, Satoru, we’ve been together for a long time but I honestly don’t even feel like it. What the hell are we dating for then?”

Satoru clenched his teeth, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “How many times do I have to tell you that I love you,” he said coolly, acting unbothered and unaffected as ever, but the clench in his jaw said otherwise. “If that’s not enough—”

“Of course it’s not enough!”

“I’m trying here too, okay?” Satoru slammed on the brakes and parked on a desolated spot, hands running through his hair while he breathed heavily. Once he’d calmed down, he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eye like a man. “I’m trying my best. It’s just hard. It isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“What isn’t easy as it looks? Dating me? Letting the whole world know I’m yours?” when Satoru didn’t respond, you scoffed, patience running low and thin. “You’re pathetic, Satoru. Dating you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I thought I was a smart woman.”

With a shake of your head, you slung your purse over your shoulder and reached for the car door. You were about to leave when Satoru suddenly pulled you towards him, his lips slamming into yours. Like always, you fell into his trap, into the blissful pleasure that was his lips and his hands, and you hated it, hated him, hated him so fucking much because you were so tired of his entire existence.

You wanted to let him know he was insufferable.

You wanted him to feel the pain and misery he put you through.

“I fucking hate you,” you snarled as Satoru kept fucking into you, the entire car windows fogged and the vehicle shaking. “I wish I never met you, you asshole,” Satoru, displeased, only buries himself deeper into you, as if they would erase his mistakes and shortcomings.

Satoru’s large hands snake to your waist and onto your breasts, expertly tweaking them between his fingers. Your head fell back to the crook of his shoulder, your back pressed against his hard chest as Satoru trapped you in his strong arms, impaling you on his cock over and over again. “You’re lying,” he whispered into your neck, tongue and teeth playfully sucking at the tender flesh. His grip on your hip was bruising and possessive, and your breasts bounced fervently at how he snapped his hips upwards to feel your walls coat him and hug him tightly and warmly. “Why would you hate me, sweet girl? Don’t I always make you feel good? Don’t I remind you enough that you’re the best fucking thing ever?”

You didn’t respond right away, your breath taken away with how you could never get enough of this, of him. He was right no matter how much you denied it. Despite being terrible in everything else, Satoru knew and respected you, even admired your dominance and intelligence when other men were intimidated by it.

No, he worshipped you. He made you feel like you were a divine goddess when he tugged at your hair to tilt your cheek to him, his tongue slithering to your lips to taste himself on his tongue from when you previously busted his nut with just your mouth.

Lipsticks smeared on his cheeks and crescent moons on his pale thigh from your nails, Satoru looked wonderful beneath you like this.

He was beautiful, so damn beautiful, but it didn’t change the fact he’d put you through hell these past few weeks.

No, it wasn’t just the past few weeks. Things were always complicated with him. He was perfect in everything else but when it came to you, he made it a mission to hide you and your relationship, changing your contact name to a totally random one “just in case.”

Your mind was confuzzled and you felt like you were on the urge of breaking apart from both his ministrations and his confusing treatment over you. Before you knew it, you were kissing him back fervently with the intensity of your hatred over this man.

Your hand reached his to guide it to rub at your clit, and Satoru, eager to make you feel good as always, happily obliged. Satoru kept bouncing you on his cock until you were too overwhelmed to speak, crying and mumbling incomprehensible words.

Him, only him, would ever have the ability to let the sharp-tongued and intelligent woman who never bat an eye in court lose her wide vocabulary, falling apart in his arms while his long length abused your puffy lips.

“You made me feel like shit,” you finally admitted, tugging at his hair until Satoru is lowly groaning at the slight sting. But did you care? Of course you didn’t. You wanted to hurt him too.

“How so, sweet girl?”

“I can never have you the way I want,” you answered through gritted teeth, moaning out when Satoru suddenly thrusted too deep, hitting your most sensitive spot that had you quivering in his hold. “You don’t—” you gasped, “You don’t understand what I feel, how you make me feel like I’m never good enough for you. That’s the reason why you don’t want anyone else knowing, right? ‘Cause I’m not good enough for you, never gonna be good—”

Satoru didn’t let you finish your words, shutting you up with his cock instead. The vehicle shook uncontrollably with your mating sessions, and Satoru silences you by pulling at your leg to press it on his chest instead.

The sudden switch in positions had your muscles tensing and stretching, adding only to both your pleasures with the new thrown in factor of slight pain. You felt Satoru kiss your neck down to your shoulders, scraping his canines until you were absolutely lost. You gave in, you gave up, head lolling back next to his loving lips that murmured sweet nothings.

“Not true, sweet girl,” he reminded you, flattening you on his cock and making you roll your hips while you slid up and down his pole sensually. Unlike the previous pace, the slow sensation of your pussy hugging his cock with your arousal letting him slide in easily allowed you to feel every part of him, almost mind-wrecking at how good he’s able to make you feel even after such a long time of having him already.

“You’re the sexiest and most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, the best, the absolute blessing of my life, and I just want to protect you, sweet girl. You’re too precious for me to lose,” Satoru kept mumbling over and over again.

You could no longer process his words functionally, not when he’s slamming you down his length like that and burying himself in you as if he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Satoru’s hands were still curious, appreciative and gentle as he runs his hands, dipping into all your curves and pressing into your most sensitive spots the way you liked it.

“You’re always so good for me so no, sweet girl, never gonna let you go, not when you’re so perfect for me,” Satoru eased your worries – temporarily – with his words, and you’d believe his lie, you’d fall into the same mistakes over and over again because you were just that weak and powerless when it came to him. “You’re made just for me, sweet girl, you’re the prettiest and your pussy is the prettiest – I worship you, I adore you. You’re so divine.”

You blamed it all on your ego.

He praised you so well, made you feel so good and always placed you on top of the world when he’s inside you like this. Even if you knew he’d knock you down the pedestal just hours later, you opened your doors for him all over again.

Satoru knew this too, because he rammed inside your walls and ruined everything that you held firm beliefs in, his large hands smacking your ass to urge you to bounce on him like you weren’t made for any other purpose than to be the woman he adored.

You lied to yourself – you always did – but did you care? So what if you couldn’t be the one he really loved? What did it all matter when you were the one he worshipped?

For the sake of the praise and the compliments, you’d let him fuck you and play with your heart over and over again. It was a toxic routine you’d never get tired of, and you no longer complained, forgetting about everything he’d done and every heartbreak he caused you because he was there, whispering into your ears how good you made him feel and how you were the only one made to take him, and you didn’t care. Not anymore – not when you were worshipped.

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folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

French Class [2]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this part! I’m excited to put out more parts soon!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, oral (f receiving), car sex, dirty talk, college!au, nerd!reader, fuckboy!bias

words: 4.4 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez

“And then he asked me if I would wear his tie around my neck while he- Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?” Your roommate, Chohee, waved her hand in front of your face from across the table. You had occupied the seats in the back of the Chinese restaurant, in a niche where you were mostly hidden from other customers. Turns out, for all the spicy stories she had in store – as always – that had been a great idea.

“I swear your thoughts have been all over the place lately. Are you sure you have nothing to talk about?” She twirled a strand of her dyed pink hair around her fingers while she mustered you suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. It’s nothing, I’m just tired. I’ve been studying day and night. Looks like you’re the only one with the stories today. Just start again from the part where he got the whipped cream from the fridge,” you said.

“We went over that part five minutes ago! Have you paid any attention?” Chohee shook her head with a grin. Then she began her bedroom-adventure story from the beginning, because she knew as well as you, she loved talking about it.

Truth was, you had one hell of a story to tell. And no, you had not been paying attention. Not because you were tired. Not because you had studying on your mind. But because one hundred percent of your focus was currently directed at the boy only a few tables from yours. You only saw the back of his head, but there was no doubt about his identity. The mop of hair was unmistakable. Plus, he was in his famous black leather jacket. There was no mistaking this piece of clothing. It was decorated with white splatters of acrylic paint and had his name written messily across the top of his back. You could just about make out the tips of the letters as he leaned back comfortably, legs spread on his chair, chatting to his friend.

Chohee had no idea about the grip the person behind her had on you. She was your closest friend, and yet you hadn’t broken the news to her: You were hooking up (and not just once) with the so-called “hottest guy on campus”. AT least those had been her words when she had first told you about him. Lately you had to admit, you were starting to agree. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep secrets from her. In fact, on many occasions you had almost crumbled and told her the full story. Had she not been such a chatterbox, and did she not love gossiping as much as she did, you swore she would already know about your little arrangement with him.

She was aware of this much: You and him were casual friends. Study buddies, one would say. You had subtly passed over the little details of your friendship. How grocery store visits sometimes turned into visits to his dorm because of a simple text of his, or how you had sneaked out on more than one occasion in the middle of the night because he had told you his dormmates weren’t home. It wasn’t weird to Chohee that you brushed over the particularities of your “one-night-stands” when you returned in the mornings. You had never been as big on sharing as she was.

Maybe you wanted to keep things to yourself out of fear what people would say, too. You couldn’t care less whether people knew you were sleeping around. But everyone knew him, or so it seemed. Girls wanted him. Boys wanted to be him. All you desired was his friendship and some fun. You had no interest in being known on campus or having people you’ve never met giving you the side-eye over having sex with an oh-so-special boy. One day you would tell Chohee all about it. You weren’t technically lying. Just not sharing the entire story.

“Remember how I said H/N was the hottest guy ever?” Chohee suddenly said. The sound of his name made your head snap back to reality.

“Oh, now you’re listening, I see. All it takes is for me to mention your new bestie,” she teased. “You shouldn’t get too attached to him. I have a feeling that girls are interchangeable to him, either way. Anyway, I’ve decided I find his friend Korain much more attractive, since I’ve been hooking up with him.”

Would it be weird to correct her? To promise her, when you had more time and weren’t so distracted, you would lay the truth on her? He isn’t like that at all, you wanted to say. Yes, he liked female attention. But that didn’t make him a bad guy. Would it sound crazed to explain how he knew how you took your coffee, and how he sent you pictures of your favorite animals before your exams to take some of the nerves away? Or how he reported that it took him exactly 1,012 steps to get to your dorm from his place? Multiple times you had tried to count the distance yourself, but you never seemed to have enough focus to make it. Something always caught you off guard. You had doubted his credibility, but he swore he wasn’t bluffing.

Speaking of his friend Korain – who was at this very Chinese restaurant with H/N – he was suddenly making eye contact with you. Before you could slide lower into your seat like a frightened animal, he had grinned at you. Oh no. Prompted by his friend’s smile in your direction, H/N now turned his head. You were thankful Chohee was still deep in her explanation on why she had changed her opinions on the two very boys only a few tables away. If only she knew.

H/N’s eyes caught yours and a smirk plastered on his face. You assumed the tiny smile you sent him would do, but no. The two young men had collected their things and were getting ready to leave. The exit was the opposite direction, and yet H/N took the long way there. His stride was that of a model as he approached your table.

“Y/N,” he said, voice sweet like sugar candy and his smile charming like famous artwork. “You wanna hang at the library later?”

Chohee was now eyeing him as if she was your bodyguard and he was an obsessed fan who had crossed into your personal space. All you could think of was how you wanted him as your dessert. Now. But you had an exam coming up in a few days. So, his invitation fit just right.

“I’ll be there.” You smiled politely. He gave you a raised eyebrow, but then nodded, said goodbye, spun around and followed his friend out of the restaurant. When you looked at Chohee, she was already giving you eyes that asked a billion questions at once. Fantastic. Now you’d have to explain that “hang at the library” was not some sort of codeword for sex, but you had – against all odds – convinced the local prince of fuckboys that studying wasn’t such an atrocious idea after all. But fate saved you before you could begin your clarification.

“Oh no! Where has the time gone? I have to get to my afternoon lecture!” Chohee exclaimed, quickly gathering her purse and jacket. “My professor will curse me if I’m late again!”

And with that, she scrambled up from the table. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy just because I have to go! I demand a good story when I get home!”

You knew she was just being dramatic, and should you decide to keep everything to yourself for another month, she wouldn’t be mad. And yet, the urge to tell her crept up on you as you watched her hurry out of the door while waving one last time. Your morning classes had been the only appointment in your calendar for the day. So, with nothing else to do, you fished for your phone to message him for a time to meet at the library.

“What were you being so weird for earlier?” he asked as he plopped down on the wooden chair across from you. His books slammed on the table, and you flinched a little. Boys.

“Thanks for reminding me why I chose to sit in the group project area today. Could you be any louder in a library?” you said. “And thank god we’re the only ones here.”

“Thanks for reminding me that you’re still great at avoiding questions,” he returned.

“I just didn’t want my friend to ask questions.”

“So you talked to me like a five year old would respond to their kindergarten teacher? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? The guy with the reputation?”

“No, I’m not. Wait? What? And what kind of reputation would that be, if I may ask? The you-only-sleep-with-a-girl-once-reputation?”

“You should know the nastiest rumors mostly prove to be false. I was thinking of something more delightful. Like a gives-the-best-head-on-campus-kind of reputation.”

You snorted. “And who is going to do the research to prove that?”

“Why don’t you look around and report back to me?” he smirked.

“No thanks. I’m already hooking up with a guy who’s more than a handful.”

He faked taking offence in your words with a theatrical gasp. “Is that so? The girl I’m hooking up with isn’t much better. Always asks to hang at the library like she doesn’t beg me to fuck her the second we get out of there.”

“Let me remind you that you were the one who suggested this place today,” you said. “I was ready to jump into your bed and you had to stall time like this.”

“Are you for real? What are we still doing here, then?” he asked, and you tilted your head with a suggestive grin that mirrored his.

15 minutes later:

“Who the fuck stores five umbrellas in their car?” You kicked another one off the backseat you were lying on. Your bra was exposed beneath your shirt which he had pushed up on your chest and was now attacking the exposed skin with hungry kisses.

“That’s what you get for not getting it on in the library,” he muttered against your skin without looking up.

“We’d be asking to get suspended from there by doing that,” you said. “And I cherish my library very much.”

He only made a snickering noise and shook his head before he went to take off his shirt – and promptly hit his head on the car roof. “Ow! This sucks. I can barely move.”

“That’s what you get for not waiting until we’re at your place,” you teased him with his own words. But judging by the prominent bulge in his pants, you supposed you didn’t want him driving anywhere. Not with naughty things on his mind, and with you next to him to only make him hornier. Your eyes fell on the dark purple spots on his abdomen, and you grinned.

“Wow. Someone must have worked hard to make that stomach even prettier,” you said.

“Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He bent down to your ear and his husky tone sent cold shivers up your spine. Of course, you knew. You were the one who bit and sucked the hickeys into his skin two days ago, after all. His hands palming your boobs through your bra drew out a desperate sigh from you.

“Let’s play a game. What do you say?” he asked.

“What kind of game would that be?” Your interest was roused. He was lost in thought for a moment, hands slowly running up and down your exposed legs. Luckily, you had opted for a skirt today. All he’d had to do was to push it up to your belly and get rid of your underwear after your short but very steamy make-out session on the backseat. The cool air on your exposed core was only magnifying your impatience.

“Whoever comes first, loses.” You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his idea, and he eyed you with indignation. “You don’t like it?”

“Everyone knows women take longer to orgasm than men do,” you said. “Are you trying to dig your own grave or what?”

“That’s why I’ll have a head start,” he announced. His hands circled the skin close to your core, creeping up your thighs slowly.

“And what’s the prize for winning?”

“The loser owes the winner a favor.”

“Too vague. I don’t trust you with that.”

“I don’t trust you, she says as she waits for me to fuck her in my car,” he mocked.

“I don’t trust your crazy ideas,” you clarified. “What about this? The winner pays for the loser’s next meal when we eat together.”

“Deal.” He slid his fingers over your pussy, and you crumbled into a whining mess within seconds. No matter how much your head denied it, he really was the best. He caught your clit between his digits and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment.

“Shit, you only turn me on more if you’re going to moan like that.” He lowered his head and spit on your center, and the laughter that had been bubbling in your throat died in an instant. His fingers rubbed your nub fast and spread his saliva – without doubt his attempt at tipping you closer to the edge before he had even begun to fuck you.

“Too bad you find me so hot,” you said, and let out a purposely dramatic whimper, followed by his name in your best fake-porn-voice. His smile had something wholesome, as if he was admiring his friend making silly jokes, but also a glint of playfulness. You knew had been a mask when he bit his lip and exhaled slowly. With ease, he slid his middle finger into you. As he curled it against your sweet spot, he bent down to suck on your clit and your back arched at the sudden pleasure.

“Too bad you’re going to lose,” he said, and then continued his antics. Had he continued this way for another few minutes, his words wouldn’t have been so far from the truth. But you had other plans.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked. “That’s enough of your head start.”

“I only just tasted you. Why would it be called a head start, if you’re going to stop me two minutes into giving you head?” he asked and you would’ve slapped his shoulder, had he been close enough. Instead, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. He was the competitive one here, and you didn’t mind enjoying yourself for now. Sighing in temporary defeat, your head fell back onto the seat. The sun was shining its last rays through the car window. They caught in his curled eyelashes and on his skin, coloring him golden.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, arm snaking around your thigh. He held on to you, but it wasn’t as if you could have moved away from him. Your head was right by the car door. His lips around your clit paired with his finger steadily rubbing against your sweet spot inside of you made you feel like floating. His free hand touched your leg gently, caressing your skin as if he wasn’t also simultaneously pushing you to the urge to yell out his name in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, as if you needed to do so to keep him in place. But something in the back of your mind still had a desire for winning. Trying to collect the last bits of your dwindling sanity, you hatched a plan. Good on you – you knew just what rode him into madness.

“I- I need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, making sure to add an extra layer of tragedy to your voice. “Please, I want it so bad.”

He looked up at you, a dark glint in his eyes. Of course, he did. All was going according to plan. It wasn’t like you had known him all your life, but you were perfectly aware of one thing. He could never resist your dirty talking and begging.

“Please?” you bat your eyelashes ever so longingly at him.

“Is that so?” He was now straightening up. His black pupils were dilated, and he was looking at you with the expectation of a loyal puppy waiting for his treat. You grabbed the front hem of his pants and pulled him towards you. In a moment, you had unzipped the material for him.

“I want you to fuck me like you did the first time we met. At the party,” you said. “Do you ever think about it, too?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” he said. Faster than you could register, he was ripping a condom wrapper and sliding it onto his free length. His cock stood angry and hard against his stomach. Perhaps your dramatic words weren’t so far-fetched. You couldn’t wait for him.

“Then do it, please,” you said. “Right now, this pussy is all yours. Use it the way it should be used.”

He muttered a swear under his breath and you knew he was in the palm of your hand. His hot breath fanned your neck as he bent over you, cock aligned with your exposed core. For a moment his length slid through your wetness, and he groaned at the warmth that was about to engulf him.

“I’m so fucking wet,” you moaned. “And all for you.”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the exaggerated show you were putting on for him as much as he did. Although, you weren’t sure whether you were allowed to call it exaggeration, at all. Your walls clenched around nothing as the tip of his cock touched your juices and he eyed you like he could’ve eaten you up right then and there.

When he finally entered you, he instantly sighed. His eyes were shut tightly as he dealt with the impact of feeling you around his shaft. A small spark of triumph went through you. That was, until he pushed your legs up and snapped his hips against yours. A sharp, sudden burst of pleasure shot through you and the coil in your stomach tightened all at once. You suspected your plan was backfiring slightly. Your words not only appealed to him and his famished mind and body. They also got to your head, and there you were, barely able to contain yourself under a load of blind hunger.

“You want me to fuck you senseless, huh?” he asked. His words went straight to your core. Nonetheless, you had a goal to work towards and you weren’t set on giving up.

“Yes, oh my god,” you whimpered. “That’s all I’m asking for. Please, I know you can. You always fuck me so well.”

In response, he rammed his body into yours so abruptly, you gave off a noise of surprise and pleasure at the same time. He bent his upper body over yours to support himself. His hands lay flat on the seat on both sides of your head. His thrusts made your legs shake now and then, when his cock hit that one spot inside of you. It was causing you to see entire galaxies on the inside of your eyelids. When you blinked up at him, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Darkness had always suit him better than the golden sunset, either way. The muscles in his arms flexed and his eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment you called victory yours. But you couldn’t be sure for longer than a moment.

Because from one second to another he straightened up and slowed his thrusts. The gradualness had something equally as striking. He dragged his cock through your scarlet walls and his fingers found your clit. You drew out a ragged breath and cursed him for regaining the upper hand. Yet, you quickly abandoned the thought of defeat. When you allowed yourself to feel the pleasure, every last thought vanished at last. You moaned and whimpered helplessly. Without overthinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He shot you a confused smirk.

“Too much, baby?” he said. “Think you won’t be able to handle it? A shame. It would really be too bad if you lost. You were doing so well up to now.”

You swallowed, hard. His patronizing voice tugged at your nerves and yet you loved when he spoke to you this way during sex. And he was aware of it – hence his knowing grin.

“Don’t stop moving,” you asked him to keep up his thrusts. “It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“Oh no. I would never dare break the rules,” he said.

He did as you said, and it only made things more mind-consuming for you. You were again reminded of the small tornado raging in the pit of your belly, threatening to consume you all over. It was only a matter of time. But what he could do, you could do better.

“Do you like fucking me in my skirt?” you taunted him, blinking ever so sweetly. Your eyes were dripping honey as you put on your most innocent gaze. “Am I pretty like this?”

“You’re the prettiest,” he muttered, biting his lip as if he was stopping a thousand moans from spilling out. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

“If I wear this skirt to class tomorrow, and you see me in the halls, will you think of this moment?” you asked. His fingers on your clit were shaky and moving unevenly. You might have been digging your own grave along with his. You didn’t care. Too many lectures you had wasted, barely able to concentrate because of the boy on top of you.

“Definitely. You weren’t wearing that earlier, at the restaurant,” he said. You wondered how many people had ever seen him this way – utterly breathless, all his cool vaporizing at once.

“Good observation,” you said, but you were struggling with your words as much as he was unable to keep calm. What was meant to sound lazy and seductive had morphed into a whimper and small sighs. “I wasn’t. I- I put it on just for you.”

He cursed again and abandoned all his remaining self-control. His grip on you was iron-tight and you clenched your fists. Oh, how you wished you could have buried your head into a pillow, or better even, the crook of a neck. Instead, you moaned his name almost soundlessly and searched for his dark eyes.

“Say my name again,” he demanded, like it was his last request on earth. So, you obeyed, only because you would have done anything for him right now, if it meant that he would keep fucking you that way.

“Oh my- my god,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop, fuck-“

“You look so hot right now, baby,” he groaned. “Shit- I could come just looking at you.”

“Then do it,” you said. Challengingly, you both smirked at each other. It lasted only the blink of an eye. You felt your insides twist before you could have prevented it. And all of a sudden, you crashed. Your intense orgasm erupted, and it took you several seconds to realize it, but then you heard it. His high-pitched moans, quiet and curse-stricken, could only mean one thing. You weren’t the only one, and therefore not the first to reach your high. A content smile spread on your face as his messy thrusts went on for a short while and you bathed in the remaining moments of bliss.

Silence set in as you both kept still to catch your breaths. You worried he would pin the loss on you, nonetheless, and inwardly braced yourself for his accusations. But to your surprise, he only laughed and collapsed on top of you. His breath tickled your neck slightly.

“We’ll be splitting the bill, I suppose?” he said. He straightened up to look you in the eyes playfully.

“Looks like it,” you said. You guessed his fighting spirit had been appeased and his energy had been spent on better things than arguing with you. You never minded it.

“Did you have a nice study session? Does the library lady assume you’re homeless and actually living there, yet?” Chohee teased as you entered your shared kitchen. She was typing on her phone but looked up when you only laughed.

“Is that a hickey?” she asked, and you knew you were done for. “What exactly is it you were studying? H/N’s body?”

“I guess I should tell you. Sooner or later, you’ll know,” you relented.

“Tell me what? Oh my god. Are you guys dating? Are you dating H/N?”

“No! You know I have no time for a boyfriend,” you said. “But…we’ve been hooking up.”

“Damn girl,” she said. “What do you have on him that he keeps coming back?”

“Excuse me? Am I really that boring of a company?”

“No. You’re the best company I could ever ask for, obviously,” she said, smiling at you. “But you remember his reputation. He sleeps with the same girl only once.”

“It’s just a stupid rumor,” you said. “Besides, we’re not just hooking up. He’s my friend. You already knew that.”

“Friend, huh?” Chohee asked. “Alright. So, you’re telling me he can hang out with you without trying to get it on?”

“He can, actually. And let me tell you, he’s cool. And pretty funny, too,” you said. She raised her eyebrows at you. “We’ve set some rules. We hook up, but also hang out as friends. Neither is allowed to be upset when the other turns down sex. We can both hook up with anyone else, still. No jealousy, no attachments. Just a good time.”

“Alright,” Chohee nodded. “If you’re so close, do you think you could introduce me to some of his friends sometime?”

You laughed, nodding. Chohee and H/N had quite some things in common, you realized then. Maybe that’s why you liked the two of them so much.

“Let’s see how long that lasts, then. Don’t wrap him too tightly around your finger, or he might trip and fall,” she winked. It was your turn to raise your eyebrow. Whatever she might have been insinuating – you had zero plans of making it reality. (Yet.)

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