#i will delete this not because i’m embarrassed but because it feels very personal
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his friends and his dad hate me • chs
pairing: non-idol!vernon x fuckgirl!reader, fwb
genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!! angst
synopsis: you broke his little heart, he’s a cry baby. OR, reader excels in the male dominated field of being a female fuckboy! (based off ‘crybaby’ by megan thee stallion)
warnings: p in v, oral (m receiving), fingering, riding, vernon gets his heart broke, reader is not a good person
a/n: i’ve had this in my drafts for awhile and needed to finish it 😭 i love when readers are morally gray or just wrong & bad! pls remember this is just fiction ok thx!
despite the protests from his friends and the little (though extremely loud) voice in the back of his head telling him this is a horrible idea, vernon grabs his car keys and tries to slip out of his apartment. “dude, we didn’t even get to finish the game! get back here!” wonwoo shouts, frustration clear in his voice. it’s bible in their friend group to finish any smash tournament that’s started, and he’s breaking the one and only most important rule.
“later!” vernon says, hand on the door knob. he’s sort of stalling, sort of wants to be told that he has to stay behind. the thing is, he’s pathetic, especially when it comes to you. he’d cross all seven seas to get to you, if you asked.
“she doesn’t even like you!” soonyoung shouts. vernon sighs and rolls his eyes, walking down to the hallway and stopping at the entrance of the living room. five of his friends look at him with mild disappointment and he puts his hands up in surrender.
“first of all, she invited me over so you’re wrong—and secondly, you’d all do the same if you had prospects but you don’t,” vernon says, letting out a breath. it felt good for him to fight back like that, though soonyoungs comment does leave him feeling sort of doubtful. very doubtful, actually, because he knows there’s some truth in his statement whether he wants to acknowledge it or not.
minghao and joshua share a look and vernon sighs. “fuck you guys,” he says.
“yeah, whatever. but don’t come back here crying,” soonyoung says, a shit eating grin on his face. vernon flips him off, face flushing in embarrassment at the memory of him getting so drunk that he cried in mingyus arms at the club over you. they’ve never been able to let it go, bringing it up every time your name is mentioned. it’s mortifying, but a slight wake up call. except he’s not thinking with his head right now.
they all snicker, but minghao manages to give him a sympathetic shrug. it doesn’t do much to alleviate the doubt in his head, but the support is nice. simply put, his friends are not fans of you, and he doesn’t necessarily blame them. your relationship started out rocky and unserious—he was a late night booty call for you and a fill-in boyfriend without the title. he did boyfriend things with you—for you, thought you two were together until you dropped the bomb that you didn’t like him or want him like that. he was crushed, but he played it cool and told you that he wasn’t looking for a relationship anyway. that only made things worse, seeing that you only called him when you wanted some attention, and constantly made him feel like you wanted him.
the crying in the club bit was the straw that broke the camels back for his friends. they had a mock-intervention for him, urging him to delete your number and to find somebody else, but as if you were summoned at the mention of vernon moving on, you’d called him a few days later and got him back where you wanted him. he hasn’t been able to escape you since, caught in some spell or trap you put him under.
“whatever,” vernon mutters, pulling off his cap to run his fingers through his hair. “i’m leaving now.” he declares, urging himself to actually make the move to leave.
he’s halfway to the door when minghao calls out to him by saying, “my therapist would call this self-destructive behavior!”
vernon doesn’t have time to deeply evaluate his behavior as ‘self-destructive’, because he spends the twenty minute drive to your place psyching himself up. that alone should be indicative of the issue with seeing you, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. instead, he bumps his music and drums his fingers against the steering wheel.
it’s not lost on him that he was able to make it to your place without directions, though he forgot how complicated the apartment parking lot was. by the time he finds a spot that he won’t get towed and/or fined in, he’s much later than when he said he’d be at your place.
vernon sends you a quick ‘here’ text before making his way towards the door to your apartment building. he presses the buzzer for your unit, and his pulse skyrockets. in the few seconds that it takes for you to answer, he spirals thinking of every negative possibility of your encounter. what if you really do hate him, like soonyoung said? and, if not, what if he sucks in bed? what if he says something stupid? what if you find out he’s a complete and utter loser?
“vernon?” your voice crackles through the intercom and shoots straight to fast beating heart, halting his mental spiral of doom, and putting him back in the moment. he’s nervous in a different way now. he’s so unsure of himself around you sometimes—which is definitely a sign that he should cut ties with you.
“y-yeah,” he clears his throat quickly, trying to cover up his shaky voice. “it’s me.” his finger nearly throbs in pain from how much pressure he’s putting on the buzzer.
with a loud pop, the door unlocks and vernon enters. he hikes the two stories to your apartment, and by the time he’s at your door he’s mildly winded from how fast he got up there. vernon stalls a few feet from your door to regain his breath (and confidence). he chews on his bottom lip for a second and glances down the hallway and considers making a run for it.
there isn’t much thought put into that, though, because his feet take him in the other direction towards your front door, and he’s raising his fist to send three soft knocks your way. vernon shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighs, dropping his shoulders and rolling them back.
you pull the door open and his eyes snap down to you, and he swears his hearing goes out for a split second, because his face feels like it’s on fire and his muscles feel heavy. and then you smile at him, and he thinks he may melt into a puddle in front of your door. “vernon!” you squeal, laughing yourself onto him, legs wrapping around his waist and arms encircling around his neck. “you took forever.” you mumble, capturing his lips in a kiss that he’s been dreaming of for weeks.
vernon silently thanks the universe that he didn’t collapse when you attached yourself to him, and that he had enough sense to hold onto the bottoms of your thighs for support. “traffic,” he lies, walking the two of you into your apartment and kicking the door closed behind him.
he stops walking and the two of you make out for a few minutes. his nerves disappeared the moment you latched onto him. granted, hes a bit nervous, but he doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out, or like he wants to make a run for it. “you look good, baby,” you purr once you pull back from his lips to really look at him. you run your hands through his short, brown hair and smile at him, and he decides right then and there that all of the pain and suffering you’ve put him through might be worth it, if you keep smiling at him like that.
untangling you legs from his waist, vernon helps set you down and lets his hands drag up your bare legs. your skin is soft like he remembers, and he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life rubbing and touching it. but your hands make use of pulling down his jacket zipper and subsequently helping him out of his coat, so he unfortunately has to pull his hands away from your thighs.
“have you been working out?” you question, setting his jacket on the back of one of your bar stools. vernon looks down at his own biceps and shrugs. “i lift sometimes, yeah,” he says. you walk back over to him and shamelessly feel him up. he’s still skinny, but there’s muscle in places you don’t necessarily remember him having.
“hmm,” is all you reply—it does a lot to cover up how badly you want to tear him out of his clothes. you grab his hand and lead him down the hallway to your bedroom.
“how’ve you been?” vernon asks. you giggle at his awkwardness and give him a look over you shoulder as you pull him into your bedroom.
“really great,” you push him lightly towards your bed, and crawl onto his lap, lips finding purchase on his neck. you grind down onto him as you suck a purple mark onto his neck. “what about you?” you ask in between kisses, voice slightly breathless.
“uh, fine,” vernon spits out, mind a bit hazy when you slip off of his lap and onto your knees between his legs. “better.” you smile at him sweetly, but your hands make quick work of unbuttoning his jeans. he helps you pull them down to his ankles, along with his underwear.
a soft whimper leaves you mouth at the sight of his semi-hard dick. you press your thighs together and reach forward to grab ahold of his member and start stroking his shaft. vernon looks down at you with parted lips; he feels like he’s in a dream, watching you on your knees below him. you’ve given him head before, but it was conditional. usually, when you felt guilty for something, or knew you made him upset you would suck him off. he tries to push the thoughts away, and succeeds when you wrap you lips around the tip and attempt to take all of him. “fuuuck,” he groans, gripping onto the edge of the bed.
vernon is embarrassed at how quickly you draw out loud moans from him just by massaging his balls as you work your mouth on him. he hasn’t been with anybody else in awhile—and he’s too embarrassed to ever admit that he’s good with just having you, even if he has to wait for you to call him.
“oh, fuck, y/n,” he whines, thighs tensing. he lets go of the mattress to gather your hair and wraps it around one of his hands. you moan against his crotch when he pulls, watery eyes flicking up to meet his own. spit gathers at the corners of your mouth and vernon knows this is an image he’ll never, ever forget. “shitshitshit!” his hips buck upwards and he expects you to pull your mouth off of him to use your hands to get him to his release, but you stay put.
it drives vernon crazy. he comes fast, and he doesn’t have time to be embarrassed because you swallow, and then keep sucking after the fact. he’s never seen you act like this, and you’re a bit shocked at your own behavior—you hadn’t realized you missed him that much.
“y/n,” he whimpers, chin falling against his chest. you take that as a sign that he’s about to pass out, and reluctantly pull your mouth off of him with a pop. a trail of spit mixed with cum follows his cock to your mouth, and it makes you want to give him another blow job, but he looks too spent.
“vernon,” you start, getting off of your knees. he manages to sit upright before falling backwards onto your bed.
“give me a minute,” he croaks. you smile and take a few seconds of your own to catch your breath before you undress completely and crawl onto the bed next to him. vernon opens his eyes and looks over at you. “i wanted to do that.” he whines, referring to getting you naked, and reaches out for you.
you crawl on top of him and settle on his abdomen. his hands moves to your waist and his eyes stray trained on your breasts. you lean down a bit, practically putting your boobs in his face. vernon leans forward and wraps his lips around one of your nipples. he shifts the two of you so he’s sitting up straight, thus shifting you down onto his crotch.
you can’t help but grind yourself against him as he plays with your breasts. he fondles the own that’s not in his mouth, and keeps his eyes on you. you moan softly above him, light little pants leaving your mouth that only encourage him. “nonie,” you whine, running your hands through his hair and gently tugging on the strands. “touch me. i want you to touch me.”
vernon pulls his mouth off of your breast and slides his hand that was on your waist up your spine. he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your mouth down to his own in a messy, heated kiss. he manages to flip the two of you over, propping himself up on an elbow and slipping his other hand between your legs.
“all for you,” you purr when he drags his fingers up your slit, a look of disbelief on his face at how wet you are. “need you, nonie. your fingers, mouth, all of it.” you whine, spreading your legs open for him. vernon liked how vocal you were about what you wanted from him. he wished you were as vocal about other aspects of your guys’ relationship, but he’ll take what he can get.
vernon dips two fingers inside of you, your arousal acting as a perfect lubricant. vernon kisses your neck and chest as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. his thumb presses on your clit and you moan out his name. “more, vernon,” you breathe, gripping onto his hair tightly. “fuck, i want you to fuck me vernon. can you fuck me?” you ask, clenching around his fingers.
his cock jumps at your tone of voice and request. “i can fuck you,” he rasps. he’d rather make you cum on his fingers first, but you wish is his command. he lifts up from you and pulls his shirt off. you rake your nails along his exposed abdomen, applying light pressure. you smirk up at him and he grabs your hand and kisses your palm. it’s much too intimate, but you can’t deny the butterflies it gives you.
“grab a condom,” you remind him, pointing to your nightstand when he grabs onto the base of his dick. he quickly moves to open the drawer, and he tries to ignore the photobooth strip of photos of you and some guy he’s never met is the first thing he sees. he pushes it out of the way and grabs a stray condom, and slams the drawer shut.
he rips open the package and rolls the condom on before grabbing your leg and throwing it over his shoulder and lining himself up. vernon pushes his hips forward and sinks the tip in. “ah!” you gasp at the delicious stretch. quiet as it’s kept, vernon has a big dick and he knows how to use it. it’s unfortunate that he’s hung and is so shy about it—sometimes you wish he’d call you to fuck, rather than you doing it all the time. “fuck, vernon, you’re so big.” his body flushes with heat and he keeps pushing forward.
you suck him in welcomingly. he fits inside of you like you were made to be stuffed by him. he fucks into with a steady rhythm, and each time he pushes inside a moan is pushed form your lungs. vernon can’t keep his own moans contained, moaning our curses with each thrust. it’s dizzying, how turned on he is by you. he feels like he can’t think about anything other than fucking you and staying like this until eternity. he gets the morbid thought that he’d be okay if he died like this, buried inside of you.
“fuck, right there baby! you’re so good to me, fuck!” you shriek, mouth falling open as you look at there the two of you connect. you get lost in watching him disappear inside of you, by the white ring that’s formed at the base of his dick. the sounds vibrate off of the walls; squelching and skin on skin nearly deafening. “fuck me, vernon!” you cry, hips raising to meet his own.
tears brim in your eyes when he pulls your leg from his shoulder and shoves it up to your chest, spreading you open wider and fucking into you at a different angle. “i m-missed you,” he chokes out, shifting his weight to a single arm so he can grope your chest.
“me too,” you pant, chest arching up into his. you chase his lips with your own, wanting to feel as close to him as possible. your mouths press together, but not in a kiss. you pant and moan harshly against each other, his hips rutting into you at a faster, less rhythmic pace.
“i-im close,” he whimpers, placing an open mouthed kiss on the corner of your lips. you whine out his name as he speeds up his pace, your arms sliding up his back. you dig your nails into his skin, definitely leaving scratches. “fuck, you’re perfect.” he whispers, eyes looking into yours.
you whimper and squeeze around him before your release comes crashing over you. “nonie!” you cry, clutching onto him like a life raft as he fucks you through your orgasm. his strokes lose rhythm completely and moments later he’s coming into the condom, stilling inside of you as he does. you almost wish he wasn’t wearing a condom, so you could feel him.
vernon drops on top of you, his arms too weak to hold himself up. you cling to him, hands running through his hair absentmindedly. you don’t mind the weight of him on you, and you especially don’t mind the fact that he’s still inside of you. you have a soft spot for vernon, even though it may not seem like it. he’s the nicest guy you’ve ever been with—much nicer than the guys you’re typically acquainted with—and he’s sweet to you, even when you don’t deserve it. you know you should probably let him go, free him of your games, but something in you won’t let you. and that same something won’t let you like him—love him—how he deserves.
“vernon,” you murmur, rubbing his back.
“hmm.”
“im hot, and you’re heavy,” you say with a soft giggle. he smiles into the sheets and lifts himself up and pulls himself out of you. both of you whimper pathetically at the loss of contact, and laugh at each other seconds later. he drops down beside you on the bed, rolling onto his back. you roll onto your stomach and rest your chin on his chest before resting on your cheek, and he wraps an arm around your waist.
vernon strokes your hair and keeps his eyes on you. if he was a cartoon, his heart would be beating out of his chest and hearts would be shooting out of his eyes.
“you’re staring,” you mutter, rubbing his side.
“because you’re pretty,” he says, hand sliding from your waist to your ass. you roll your eyes and sit up onto your knees and look down at him. you can’t contain the urge to smile or kiss him, so you do both. “you should go pee.” he mumbles, breaking the kiss.
“right,” you say, quickly getting off the bed. no other guy would remind you to pee after sex, but of course vernon does. every single time, too. you wish you could leave him alone.
vernon sits up and grabs his boxers. he pulls them on and stretches his arms above his head, sighing when he feels a pop in his shoulders. somewhere behind him, a phone buzzes once, then twice, then incessantly. he doesn’t know where his phone is, so he digs around in the bed until he finds the source, pulling out the phone from under a pillow. it’s definitely not his, so he feels sort of strange holding it as the name ‘seungcheol’ flashes across the screen.
“what are you doing with my phone?” you ask with an accusatory tone, eyebrows furrowed as you tie your robe.
“i couldn’t find mine, and it was ringing,” vernon says, holding it out to you. you snatch it out of his hand unnecessarily, ready to tell him to mind his business until you look down at the screen and see three texts and a missed call from a guy you’re seeing. it’s not super serious, but you feel bad for vernon having to see it.
“sorry,” you mutter, quickly typing out a response to seungcheol. you try to shove the guilt down as you set your phone down on your dresser. it’s awkward and tense, and you can feel him watching you as you mess around with things on your dresser.
glancing up, you catch his eyes in the mirror and sigh before turning around to face him. you crawl onto the bed next to him and sit on your knees. he won’t meet your eyes, so you try the only thing to bring him back to you.
you kiss his neck and run your hands across his chest. he doesn’t react so you pull your robe open and grab his hand, placing it on your chest and squeezing. “vernon,” you murmur, crawling into his lap. you kiss up his neck, to his jaw, and when you get to his mouth he pulls back.
it’s not his business at all, but he can’t hold back when he asks, “who was that?”
you bite your bottom lip and encircle your arms around your neck. you press your weight into his crotch and bite back a smile when he covers a groan with a throat clear. “he’s just a friend, nonie,” you lie, kissing his cheek. “you have me. all of me.”
he looks up at you with wide eyes, and you feel his cock twitch under your ass. he’s pathetic, and it’s never been more clear to him because he kisses you and palms your breast, pinching your nipple lightly and shoving off your robe. he knows he’s reaches new lows because he lets you push him flat onto the bed and pull his underwear down. when you sink down onto him—with no condom this time—he knows he’s fucked.
you ride him like your life depends on it, like him forgetting that seungcheol ever called is imperative to keeping this thing going between the two of you, because it is. you bring out all the stops, riding him on your toes and telling him things he definitely wants to hear, like how nobody feels better than him, and he’s the best you’ve ever had.
vernon leaves your apartment with clarity on one thing: he understands why his friends can’t stand you.
#svt imagines#svt smut#svt angst#vernon smut#vernon angst#vernon fluff#seventeen smut#vernon x reader#vernon x y/n#svt x reader#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x you#hansol vernon chwe#chwe vernon
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I feel moved to speak, sooner rather than later because I believe time is of the essence and this needs to be understood in order to keep Moonvale from crumbling to the ground completely.
This is not completely spoiler heavy, but it will discuss the game. I should note that unfortunately I have not finished the episode because I am struggling with the mini games in making progress. So I do not know how the episode ends, but I need to say this in order for me to rest.
I am very angry and disappointed with this game, and even more than that, I hold a great deal of second hand embarrassment for Everbyte.
One of the greatest reasons I respected these developers during Duskwood is that the game never felt like a cash grab like so many games do these days. The option to make a one time payment for complete access to Duskwood was fantastic, an option they should have carried to here and that is the biggest grievance I have.
There is no reason a game should cost hundreds of dollars to experience and enjoy. There is no reason for the prices of gems to be as expensive as they are. This is unacceptable Everbyte, and you should feel ashamed of it, you should know better.
The beauty of Duskwood and what set it apart was its feel of realism and the fact that every question had a reasonable answer. Your use of AI art has cheapened the look of your game, not enhanced it, not to mention it’s insulting to use generated art when there are many artists who are already losing jobs to AI, artists who would have been happy to work with you if given the chance. If the cost of commission is too high, then use of stock photos you had before was just fine, and I believe you should have kept it, I can’t look at Ash and Charlie’s profiles without it striking me as goofy.
Furthermore, the story does not make sense, we were able to read chats because Jake made it possible for us, now it just feels like the return of a gimmick with no explanation, the same with the mini games, in the past we did mini games to “hack” into Hannah’s cloud, now we do it “just because”. It’s lost its feeling of meaning, not to mention most private chats are behind the gem paywall, which we never had to deal with before!
The characters seem more plain to me, or maybe they are loveable but I’ll never know because again, paywall. I can’t read the premium options and get to know them deeper because of it. There are also no profiles like before, which is awful because we can’t look back on past video calls and links and we can’t see what these characters are all about, their personality is gone.
Even MC’s answer options seem blander, more vanilla, repetitive or one directional.
I say this truthfully from my soul, if this was the style of of game you dropped but for Duskwood instead, I never would have played it.
I would have never fallen in love with it.
I would have never made this blog and would never have waited years for every episode and a new game.
I would have never made art and countless theories.
I would have deleted the game immediately.
So I’m asking you, begging you, please change this for our sakes, and especially for yours.
Because despite all my gripes and anger, and everything I’ve said, I know you guys have actually worked hard on this game because the evidence is there, hidden beneath it all.
I love the actual real life people you have for Adam and Eric, I was so moved to help Adam when he started to cry. I want to know why he knows us and wants our help. I laughed when Eric told us he had tripped, and I do want to get to know him. I even wished to lovingly twist Charlie’s neck! That is the game I remember loving, its writing and characters, I can see the potential here.
But you need to change something, otherwise I cannot support this game, I cannot force myself to play it. I will drop Moonvale.
Give the players a one time payment option for 100% complete access to the game, access to all premium options. That’s the least I feel anyone could ask of you and is biggest reason you are getting this backlash.
To my fellow players, if you agree with any of what I said then I ask you not to pay for anything until Everbyte changes to make their game more affordable. Don’t be quiet and please voice your opinions everywhere they can see it. That’s the only way something could change.
I am so sorry this is what we got… you all deserve better.
#i feel sick#make a change everbyte#moonvale#everbyte studio#everbyte#duskwood#moonvale x duskwood#moonvale release#moonvale game#moonvale everbyte
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I’m having another style crisis 😀
And here is a wip im doing for a Twitter collab… Sausage is mad at Hemera 🫢
I’ve been wanting to draw for days now but it feels like I can’t draw— then FFXVI came out and Clive is giving me emotional damage
#is it embarrassing that I cried when I played the demo?#I’m a very emotional person— don’t fight me#ngl it was such a refresher to do a bit of realism#anyways… I’ll probably be in my hole for a little longer#gotta finish FFXVI and possibly make fan art of it idk#hphl#hphl mc#hphl oc#hemera fotia#might delete this later— I honestly just wanted to post something because I feel bad for just going silent
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The perks of being that guy (l.jh.)
Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion.
or the one where jihoon is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and, well, other things.
ao3 | m.list | reblog to give woozi a lil kiss
minors dni!!
WORDCOUNT― 14k
PAIRING― jihoon x afab reader
CONTENT― strangers to lovers like immediately, long fluffy hair jihoon!!!!, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening.
NOTE― a present for u all because i hit a milestone of 5000 followers!! this was only supposed to be like 5k words but i guess i was in love with him this whole time. anyway, this is not proof read bc i think u guys know by now that im not about that life, so if you find a typo– don’t tell me i will delete everything out of embarrassment.
smut tags under cut::
smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jihoon!!!! he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship, unprotected sex (just wrap it guys, im too lazy to write a condom scene), sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to not write smut where he wants to look directly at you, back scratches (sexual)
~
~
Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing.
Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.
“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips.
“I’m fine with my choice, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.
“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant…?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle it without said lube purchase.
The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long, he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo.
With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond.
“I think I know what I can take and I already have lube, but thanks.”
He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.
Now, despite Jihoon’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows everyone in this town’s kinks after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets and he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly.
Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of rosy tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing.
Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains.
Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet, timid man who shows up with pans of food for events.
The guests seem to love him, and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being.
It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.
~
You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion.
He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. Upon your eyes meeting his though, he could tell it was you simply by your furrowed brow as you recognized him.
Jihoon couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him, because it’s very true that many people feel too vulnerable when buying those kinds of items.
His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family. And by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to help explain or describe what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance.
He follows you down the line, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed though.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from.
His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another.
“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a grin.
You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.
“Thanks, Jihoon. See you around.”
You’re heading away from the table of food and now toward your saved spot at the table of family that you missed the most. Your same-age cousins, the ones you grew up with and made mud pies for your parents with during summer evenings.
“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing to the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures.
“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.”
She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life.
~
Okay so you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jihoon? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone.
His personality seemed different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks it’s funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.
So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills.
“How many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.
He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. Then he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down.
“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point.
You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not be to like about him. Unfortunately, you’re not finding much to take note of.
“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster.” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.
You find yourself laughing at his panic though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him.
“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes.
He pauses, his panic easing after taking note of your easy personality and banter towards him.
“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again. “Correction, they should be worried.”
“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.”
Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to discuss this at your own family reunion at least.
“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare down at it.
“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him.
Honestly, he might actually see you within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale.
~
Unfortunately for you, upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. Your head slamming into the steering wheel with a sigh that’s probably loud enough for the entire town to hear.
The last thing you need is your father driving you home, because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you spent at your parent’s house? You refuse to ask yourself questions.
Just as you prepare to head back inside, taking the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.
That savior is none other than Jihoon walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise.
“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield.
“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”
Jihoon shakes his head apologetically.
“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door.
“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”
Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.
“You sure I’m too out of the way for you to do that?”
He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well.
“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”
He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible.
“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”
Jihoon nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.
On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock even if he hits the sack at 7pm without even cleaning up the yard.
~
“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jihoon looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window.
“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff.
“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”
You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Know that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in their driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything.
Jihoon unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. Of course it is.
“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?”
You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.
“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”
“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”
You stare at him.
“Okay.”
The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about his car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.
“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.
“Ex girlfriend, i couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”
“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”
Jihoon pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question.
“Was that too forward to ask?”
“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”
“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”
He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does.
“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.”
“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”
You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.
“You’re free right now…” You comment quietly, glancing at him.
“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.
“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”
“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.”
You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.
“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.”
How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening.
“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?”
Oh fuck, he’s right.
“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”
He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you.
“Where to then, y/n?”
~
If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. Not at least without hanging out a few times.
You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.
The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question.
“Where to then?”
You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him.
“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”
“Sounds good.”
It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot.
“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”
“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”
A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over.
By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote.
“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”
“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”
“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine.
“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”
For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it.
“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”
He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone.
“You know, no one buys toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.”
“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”
He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass.
“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”
“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”
He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase.
“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”
“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a sex drive.”
You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip.
“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again.
“Wha–” You narrow your eyes. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”
“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.
“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”
“Three pocket pussies, actually.”
You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus.
“I bet you named them.”
“Pocket 1, Butthole 1, and Jessica.”
“Jessca?!”
He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile.
You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too.
You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable.
“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.”
You nod energetically.
“Jesse and James.”
“Oh my god, how did you know that?”
You narrow your eyes again. He’s gotta be a fucking nerd to get the reference, even if everyone knows what pokemon is.
“So the pussy is Jesse, and the asshole is James.”
He nods slowly, acting surprised before smirking yet again.
“Actually, I only have one but I’ve experimented with other things that come through the door. Might as well, right?”
“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”
Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him.
“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He shoots back.
“Okay, enough about my dildo, I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”
He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.
“Shoot.”
“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, so you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”
“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”
“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”
He pauses, unsure of what could be so embarrassing.
“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a dude torso with a normal length and girth?”
Jihoon fucking snorts. How mundane. Unfortunately for you though, Nope.
“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got women sex dolls but he’s never really even mentioned just like…a dildo attached to some sort of form that is shaped like a person.”
You shrug.
“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”
He snorts again, this time unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more.
“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get thigh fucked mid-orgasm.”
You glare.
“Dude, no, because it actually hurt.”
“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your…” he pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now.
“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”
He tries to play it off.
“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself like that just now.”
“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, laughing along with him as you actually start to look at him.
You noticed that he was handsome before. Normally employees of shops like those are nonchalant normal people, or strange old men who try to impose their kinks onto you. Jihoon though. Jihoon. Hmm, how to explain him?
With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his wide smile and pretty eyes. He may not be the tallest man you’ve ever looked at like this but damn is he thick. Like his thighs. Damn, the thighs. Even him now compared to him when he was catering for your family, he’s so much more handsome.
His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… You don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm.
“You know, Jihoon,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”
His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening.
“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”
You wave him off.
“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second.
“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?”
“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”
“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”
You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.
“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed.
“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.
“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”
He nods, looking around the room and checking the time.
“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.”
You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad.
“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”
He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out.
Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential.
“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”
“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.
He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help that fluttering feeling in his chest.
~
It's almost midnight by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.
“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.
“What do you mean?”
He turns toward you.
“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you.
You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again.
“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.
You’re taken aback by his forwardness, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite book. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it.
“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”
He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction.
“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.
“Oh, most definitely.”
The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.
“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance.
“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.”
“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.”
“Maybe.”
“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at one in the morning and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”
He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership.
You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange?
“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.”
Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.
Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically.
“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.
“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”
“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce.
“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”
“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”
You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges.
“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.”
“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?”
He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you.
“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for probably super normal pretend-sex.”
You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer.
“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows.
“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much.
“A man.” You respond, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”
“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.”
You snort.
“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.”
“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was.
“A little bit, yeah.”
“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”
For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond.
“I can imagine so, yeah.”
He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together.
“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so.
“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink.
He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.
“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment.
“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.
“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other.
“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, just hovering over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”
Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his.
Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would.
Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all fucking day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.
The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.
It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily.
That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly.
“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile.
You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”
You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss.
He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him.
“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”
You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you.
“Was I wrong though? Can it do this for you?”
You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out onto the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you.
You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes.
“Actually, say what you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.
“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to set against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in.
“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it was stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”
“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him.
“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him.
“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?”
You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jihoon seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now.
“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”
He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.
“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.
He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day.
Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.
“Um.” He stops realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”
“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.
“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”
“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.”
“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room.
Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn to face him once he comes inside.
“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable.
“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change.
You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you.
“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table.
He had no idea what the fuck you were referring to until he saw it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jihoon tics his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer.
You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.
“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”
“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him.
He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is.
“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”
You study his expression.
“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.”
You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now.
He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys.
“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.
He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind.
“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”
You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually.
“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”
You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like?
“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”
“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”
Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.
“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?
“What should we call it?”
“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer.
“Oh, you fuck on the first date?”
You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you.
“With you? I guess I do.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you.
“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.
“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”
“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”
“Guess I got lucky last time then.”
“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before.
You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier.
There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your shoulder and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky.
Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you had your lights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died.
It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way.
He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing his fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his fringe hangs. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you.
It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.
“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair.
“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.”
Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too.
You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing alone your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you.
“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too.
You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back.
Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks so fucking pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day at the creases of them. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension.
You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over you head.
“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you, yeah?” He laughs, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”
He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.
“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.
“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Am I not supposed to?”
Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.
“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.
“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”
You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs.
You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude.
“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.
“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on on hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your pussy. “No promises now, though.”
You laugh, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your laugh off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss.
He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again.
It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— Such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands.
He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit.
The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering.
He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control.
His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your ribs, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.
There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right there before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again.
“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses toward you, balancing yet again on his other arm.
Before you can actually respond, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly cupping your entire pussy.
You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.
“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit.
“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly.
You can feel them stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good though.
“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his playful smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers.
“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.”
You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want.
Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties.
“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally.
“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”
He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?
“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”
He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you.
“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?”
You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the confidence to just tell him.
He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bare to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure.
You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment.
His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing his a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.
“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him.
There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.
That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it though, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.
He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on your fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance.
“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.
So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them.
You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have you legs shaking.
Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it.
“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want.
He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.
Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you.
“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster now, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now.
He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs.
You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–
“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”
He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.
“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs.
He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it.
“Take it out?” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want.
Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off.
You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head.
“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.
You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering.
“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your core.
Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fucking fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually.
“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.
He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides.
“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.
You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you?
“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist.
He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him.
Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check.
You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.
When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds?
“Jihoon,” You say, slightly out of breath.
“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.
“Fuck me.”
It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen consistently pressing into it. He could have come from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long, but now?
He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately.
“Fuck,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.”
You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.
“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already come just from having my fingers in you.”
You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.
“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.
“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”
And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your literal pussy, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy.
It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest.
He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.
You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, so does he.
When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.
“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace.
Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jihoon though, he’s in love with seeing remnants of you tomorrow.
Obsessed with the sting of it, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this.
You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.
When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner.
As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.
“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”
You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit.
Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily.
Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you go barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.
“I’m–”
Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.
The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation.
And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely filly. Jihoon really is something, or, someone.
The two of you released together, and his lips fell slack just like yours did. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.
Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop.
Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jihoon is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess.
When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.
“We should clean up.”
~
There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work.
He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for a day at the sex-shop.
He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.
Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.
For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.
Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you.
Not that you need it. (The lube.)
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I’m going to go insane if Tumblr scraps one of my ask’s again. Gonna reveal my identity at this point. ☹️ (You wish.)
BUT OH MY GOODNESS YES YES YES, A THIRD BABY IS POSSIBLE!!!
I personally feel like Violet would be around 13-15, and Cecilia 9-10. (You can adjust with the age gap etc.) So they’d be a little older now, barely teenagers now.
Of course, the pregnancy was an unexpected thing. Both you and Leon never thought the two of you would have another baby, but nonetheless, the two of you had to deal with the consequences of your horny actions. 🙄
Violet and Cecilia would absolutely hate the two of you at first. Big sisters? Hell no. They’d literally run out of the living room yelling and slam the door to their separate rooms in frustrations. But what could the two of you do? Just wait and let them get over it…
At first, it was such a weird thing to them…Seeing their mom with a belly…Ew. And how Leon would give you double the attention made them get the ick, they were already used to y’all acting like horny teenagers but oh my god.
But alas, as soon as they met their little baby brother, oh, it was like it was the greatest thing in the world! The two of them would constantly beg to hold him, fighting over who gets to unfreeze the milk from the fridge and make him a bottle.
They’d both play with him, volunteer to even take him off of your hands for the day. (Which never lasted because they regret it as soon as he has a stinky diaper.) The two would also very much criticize his outfit choices. Every single onesie and little outfit you put on him had to be approved by his big sisters.
I also feel like they’d come up to you in the middle of target with a bunch of baby toys and clothes saying that he’d absolutely love them, and you just had to sign and give in.
- Anon! 🎀
Tumblr has been a Cunt to me the past few days with asks. I'm about to delete my whole account if it doesn't get fixed (I'm being dramatic.)
Leon and his wife would even be shocked they could have babies still... Not unhappy but you'd look him dead in the eyes and tell him "I'm getting my tubes tied or you're getting a vasectomy. No more kids."
Violetta (12) would definitely want nothing to do with the baby at first. She's almost a teenager and her parents having another kid at their DECREPIT AGE?!
So Embarrassing 🙄
Cecilia (8), still very young and impressionable would probably just be following her sisters lead but secretly be excited to finally have some to boss around.
But Violet (being the older pain in the ass sister she is) would probably get to Lia and drill it into her head that middle kids get forgotten and oh nooo she's the middle child
Make her sister cry, get grounded and her phone taken away for that.
But once their mother starts showing, Lia comes around immediately. Cuddles up with mommy on the couch whenever she can just to be close to the baby. Violets still super hesitant and not happy about it. Especially every time her dad shows you affection and like... Bucket loads of affection.
He missed seeing you pregnant. That pretty glow you'd always exude even just existing in his presence. And your cute pregnant waddle! He could go on for hours how much he loves when you're pregnant. This is a completely new experience for Lia, Violet hardly remembers what happened when you were originally pregnant with Lia . She was way too young to remember.
Time comes around when you find out the babies sex, Leon fully preparing for a 3 for 3 on the princess counter.
It's a boy... He's devastated at first. He really wanted another girl. But you on the other hand are relieved. You wanted a little boy. Not that you don't love your daughters it just be nice to have a son too. Eventually he's okay, especially after you tell him this means you need to have more renovations done to the house so there's room for the new baby. That means a new room to make into a nursery, something they didn't get to do with Lia but this time around they will.
Closer to the due date you start going over names for the baby. Leon suggesting Marvin as a middle name, you know the context of it and accept it immediately. Everyone starts throwing names around, Violet staying quiet. Lia suggests calling him Puppy...
"That's not a name honey." You chuckle at her suggestion when Violet looks at Leon.
"What's your middle name Dad?"
"Scott." Violet looks between her parents, shrugging.
"Scott sounds good to me."
You and Leon look at each other and smile. Agreeing it's a good name.
Time comes around to have the baby. Violets still against the kid, Lia's bouncing off the walls excited to meet her baby brother. You give birth and the girls are allowed in the room finally.
Both girls look mostly like a good mixture of the two of you... Leon could never deny Scott as his son (he never would) because the kid looks exactly like him. Dusty Brown hair from his younger years, cute little nose, big blue eyes and a butter ball of a chunky baby. He's absolutely precious.
Lia gets help from Leon to hold him since she's still younger. Violet keeps her distance until she walks over to check on you and make sure you aren't too tuckered out. Leon basically traps Violet between a chair and her only escape, offering her to hold her brother if she sits down. She agrees just to get this over with.
She has little Scott in her arms. He looks up at her smiling with those big blue eyes... 3. 2. 1...
She's crying. Won't stop talking about how cute he is or how much she loves him already. You and Leon share a look before he tries taking the baby back.
"He needs skin to skin time with mommy." She whines, reluctantly handing him over.
After that day you basically have two live in nanny's. Both girls wanting to help.
Unless it's diaper related...
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon s kennedy#resident evil x reader#🌿 ivy writes#🌿 ivy replies#🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy
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Transfixed | part 3
previous part | part 4
collage made by me with pictures from pinterest
moonknight!system x female!reader
a/n: AHHH- Thank you all so much for reblogging, liking and commenting on my past chapters!!! I just reached 50 reblogs and it honestly means the world that people are embracing a newbie like me (✿◠‿◠)
Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, Jake being a menace, (eventual smut, the chapters will be marked individually), inaccurate depictions of DID, egyptian mythology and religion (although I did extensive research I took liberty in changing some things to adhere to my plot...), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!
Summary: Steven and Marc have a little...carfuffle when Jake finally lets them front again, after days of taking over. The date plans are set and both parties eager to meet soon but are we surprised when things don't go as planned..?
2,200 words
Steven at home
‘I can’t believe this- how does this even happen Steven?’
‘Mate, I don't know! You were there weren’t you? You know how it happened…’
‘So you’re tellin’ me that any pretty girl can just sit there and you will literally tell them all about our personal business???'
‘How else was I supposed to find out about Jake huh?? Say that he’s my identical twin brother and then have to explain myself-'
‘Steven you would never have had to explain anything! Because this was supposed to be ONE conversation over a non-committal coffee- not a damn first date.’ Marc replies sternly. He looks at Steven in the glass of the fishtank and notices him looking deflated and guilty. Great- now he feels guilty for making Steven feel guilty. ‘I-I am sorry man, I shouldn't've gotten this mad, you know how I am about…personal stuff.’ Marc says sincerely. He really has been trying to be better at communicating, it’s been a feat to get here but he would do anything to make Steven's life easier. ‘It’s alright Marc..you’re right I should call off the date’ Steven says while looking at his hands, remembering your touch on his shoulder. The way you made him trust you so easily, even though he barely knew you. How desperately he wanted to get to know you an- ‘Steven, you know we share a brain right?’ Marc says trying to stop Steven from swooning any further. ‘Look- clearly you like her and she seems to like you as well, so who says this won’t turn out well?’ ‘well- you know: “we share a brain”’ Steven says, mocking Marc's previous comment. ‘Okay okay I get it- I messed up. I’m sorry. There, will you let me help you now?’ Marc looks at Steven expectantly.
Days passed since they had returned home after you left them in the cafe. Steven was pretty sure Jake had taken over after leaving the coffee-shop but he was finally fronting again after a few days. Steven squints his eyes at Marc but relents ‘alright fine, I don’t know what to text her…I think she might be waiting for me to initiate conversation…’ ‘You realise we wouldn't have this issue if I had fronted and you wouldn't have had the chance to fall in love like a desperate teen-boy’ ‘I thought you said you lay off with the mean comments! And i am NOT in love-’
‘yeahyeah, you’ve never had a girlfriend have you? You must be reeaaally nervous…’ he adds in a singsong voice. Marc won’t let up, he’s being dragged into this mess so he might as well have a bit of fun. ‘Okay now I know you’re just takin’ the piss- are you gonna help me or not?’ Steven says fully aware of his embarrassing situation. ‘Alright, you text and I tell ya how to start, alright?’
‘Oh bollocks- uum okok I-I can do this..’ Steven is fronting now sitting on the office-chair and stares at his phone screen, starting with a simple introduction.
steven is typing...
‘Hiya- it’s me Steven!’
He had written, deleted and rewritten the message about six times before finally sending it.
You answered very quickly, you’d been waiting for him to text since you got home a few days ago. Processing everything that happened between you and steven- and well, Jake.
‘hi:) glad to hear from you. I wanted to apologise for leaving so abruptly, but it was all a bit much to process and i was running super late for work haha…i hope you understand’
‘Of course luv. If you’ve got any questions you can always ask, I hope you know that.’
‘i do’
‘i was actually hoping to ask you some questions on that date you promised me;)’
You seemed a bit more forward over text and Steven did not mind it one bit, since it was just the push he needed.
‘Right! I thought we could meet friday? There's this great vegan restaurant, I'd love to take you there?’
‘sounds great! could you pass me the address of the place?’
‘No need luv- I’ll pick you up.’
‘oh!’
‘that works too’
You hadn’t realised the age gap until this moment. They were probably around 10 years older than you with you being in your mid-twenties. You did notice the wrinkles and silver strands when you first saw Jake but hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was about a decade older than you. Just now as he offered to pick you up did you realise the generational difference. You didn’t have an issue with it, you’ve always liked your partners to be a bit older so this definitely wasn’t a turnoff. If anything it only amplified your attraction.
‘I’d love your address’
‘Whenever you get the chance to send it:)’
‘right! sending it now…’
You send him your address.
‘Thanks luv. Alright, I’ll see you Friday at 7pm then?’
‘yes! see you tomorrow steven<3’
He sat back, setting his phone on the sink. ‘Alright there's your date’
‘Thanks for taking over, Marc- couldn’t have done it alone’
‘Relax Steven- this was just texting. But you realise I can’t just take over during the date, right?’
‘Of course I know that…doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stand by just in case…’
‘So- wait, what are we gonna do with Jake's notebook?’
‘I uuhm couldn't find anything besides drawings and sketches of her…I mean at least we had those, otherwise we would’ve never found out about him loaning that book.’
‘By the way…we know Jake likes her as well, by getting to know her better, we have a chance of actually luring Jake out-’
‘That might be true but that's not our goal! I- I actually like her…she might become my first proper girlfriend, I don't wanna mess this up.’ Steven is adamant on getting to know you, very hopeful of the connection he feels towards you. An almost magnetic pull he felt between you, one he has never felt with anyone before.
Marc chuckles at the reminder but reassures Steven, ‘And we won't, I promise, you will do fine Steven’
Friday
It’s 4 am. You’ve been trying to sleep for the past four hours but the thought of getting to see Steven and possibly Jake later today was not letting you relax. If anything it was causing a very persistent tension…in places you really dont wanna delve into. In fact, you’re trying really hard not to think about that tension, which might be the exact reason as to why you can’t seem to find your way to a peaceful slumber. You try to distract yourself by thinking of how this all even started. The way Jake intrigued you since the beginning and had you speechless every time he appeared. And you think about steven- steven who's the polar opposite to jake and is this shy sweetheart that can’t seem to even look you in the eyes but somehow managed to bluntly ask you out on a date. You keep thinking about them and their differences and analyse them, not noticing your eyes slowly shutting closed and your thoughts slowly forming into vivid dreams based on your memories with the boys…you sit up in your bed abruptly remembering your texts with steven. Realising you had shared your private address with a fucking stranger…you hold your head in your hands and push your palms into your eye-sockets trying to calm down. You don't actually know shit about these men…you really should’ve told your friends about them cuz literally no one knows about these encounters. But truly it was all so bizarre and absurd that you really didn’t want your friends to spoil it for you by using anything close to logic or realism. To maybe argue that they could have anything untoward in mind with you.
You lay back down and finally feel a wave of exhaustion hit you. You want to believe that they actually maybe even like you…of course there is a possibility that Steven only asked you out to find out more about Jake. oh and marc, was it? You wonder what he might be like and if he's anything like his alters. You turn from your clock having hit 5am and finally force yourself into sleep.
You wake up to your alarm blaring and prepare yourself for work. You start the day groggy and tired due to only sleeping four hours. But just the thought of your date tonight has you motivated enough to hurry up and catch the next bus.
Moonboys POV
Marc woke up around noonish since Steven took forever to finally fall asleep. Lately he’d been better but last night he was as jittery as a six year old the night before christmas. Currently standing in the kitchen brewing himself a cup of black coffee and prepping his mug with two brown sugars. ‘So loverboy, what are you planning for tonight?’ He says while wearing an amused smirk on his face.
‘Okay well first off, cool it with the nicknames yeah? And secondly you literally texted it for me yesterday. We are goin’ to my favourite restaurant.’ Steven replies proudly while also ashamed for not even having the balls to text you himself. ‘About that…I don’t think that place is open right now- in fact I think all the restaurants are closed today, no?’ Marc remarks and pours himself the long awaited bitter brew. ‘Wha-Whatareyousayin mate??’
‘Well’ He clears his throat ‘when I woke up I saw today's date and remembered that today is that weird holiday, the only thing open are convenience stores and the 24-hour Tesco’ he says, his voice laced in an amused tone and takes a slow sip of his sweetened coffee. ‘Bollocks- what am I gonna do?...I could cook?’ ‘Steven’ ‘No, I-i can't even make a- a salad! How the hell am i supposed to cook for her if I can't cook marc?!’ he says panicked ‘Steven’ marc sternly interrupts, carefully putting his half empty mug on the counter
‘I can help you. I may not be amazing at it but I can remember a few things from- from what our dad taught us.’ Marc and Steven rarely talked about their past but recently they were kinda forced to deal with it. Just the fact that they, let alone Marc, can mention anything from that time so casually is kind of a huge step for them.
Marc and Steven spend the rest of the day planning, buying and preparing the food for the date. The time comes when Steven has to take over the body to get ready to pick you up. He finds a shirt in the back of his closet- same oversized cut as his others but a bit less casual and more sleek looking than the usual shirts he wears. His hair is as unruly and fluffy as usual despite Marc insisting on sleeking it back. He convinces him to use some curling cream he had found in the back of the bathroom drawer.
Steven applies it sceptically, coming to the conclusion that it does look pretty good. He makes his way to your address making sure to ring on the right door. Basically buzzing from anxiety, Marc is doing everything to keep him calm and rehearse with him what he was gonna do and say when you ringed him in and opened your door, knowing full well, that all the preparation would fly out the window when he actually met you…Jake is silently watching this all transpire and cant help but be amused at all this, not admitting that he was actually a bit nervous himself.
You came back from work tired BUT extremely excited to get ready. You had to stay a bit longer than anticipated and thus only had about one hour to get ready. Hopping in the shower as quickly as possible you try to calm down under the warm streams of water hitting your body, melting all the tension out of your back, shoulders and sore legs. Work had been exhausting and this shower was proving to get difficult to leave. But the alarm you had set to remind yourself of the time, successfully cut your relaxation short. You quickly exited your shower wrapping your body in a fluffy white towel. Wiping the steamy mirror to see your reflection more clearly, you start getting ready. Adding whatever products you use to your hair and applying sweet smelling lotion to your body, basically doing any- and everything to make you feel as confident and ready as possible for your date, who was supposed to arrive iiiin…twenty minutes?!
You hurried your makeup routine and rushed to your room quickly picking out an outfit you felt sexy in but also had a grounding and comfy vibe. You threw on a beige knitted sweater, which had an oversized fit with a mini-jean skirt. Paired with sheer brown tights, thigh-high beige cashmere socks and brown leather knee-high, high-heeled boots. Finishing off the look with your favourite jewellery and accessories, you look over at the clock. It's 6.50pm and you are just adding the last finishing touches to your look and making sure you've moved all the important things from your ‘work-bag’ to your ‘going out purse’ when the door rings. ‘He's here’ you mutter to yourself, running to the door making sure it's him and pushing the button to the intercom. ‘Yes, hello?’
a/n: hope yall liked this chapterrr- in the next chapter you'll be able to read all about the date and i am SO excited for yall to read about it *squeals* don't mean to toot my own horn but GURL it's so good i already wanna post it ♪(´▽｀)
The lovely people in my taglist: @lilladyblink14 @lemongirl5910
please notify me if you want to be added/ removed from the Taglist<3
#ponchosworks<3#moon knight#steven grant#marc spector#jake lockley#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockley x reader#transfixedseries
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The Crush Culture
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈(𝐬): Todoroki Yosuke x Reader(ʏᴏᴜ/ʏᴏᴜʀ)
𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: oneshot, fluff
𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: gender unspecified; todoroki being a S.I.M.P.
“Fuuuck.”
The only word running through Todoroki’s mind. They were either prolonged or short under his breath. His breath was labored, spending prior moments working out in his room, the dumbbell still within his hard grasp.
His forehead coated in thin sheets of sweat as beads fell from his damp hair. He snatched the nearby towel, roughly running the cloth on his sensitive skin while attempting to calm his rising pulse.
“Fuck” He muttered again.
The time read 7:12 PM, already behind his routine. He’d spent the day as normal, but something about recent events had his presence somewhere else.
Throwing the towel somewhere, he grabbed his phone. Inputting his passcode before clicking straight into his messages.
The screen’s light illuminated his sharp features, his lips cracking into a smirk as he scrolled up into the message feed dating back from last week.
Damn. You just had to prance around his mind, huh?
Who knew getting dragged into his gang’s matchmaking rendezvous would lead him to now? He still remembered standing broody whilst everyone else chatted and danced around, light strobing and flashing in his eyes making him want to escape.
In his silent ruminations, he was late to notice another suffering individual at his side, a little too uncomfortable in their skin. You were definitely in the same boat as him.
And the rest was history.
Because you lived on the other side of town (and went to an actual school), you both opted to text for weeks, promising to jump at any free time you guys had.
It was better than nothing, he thought.
Amid his floating, fluffy daydreams, a notification slid down from above the screen with a ding. His chest palpated when he read who the delivered message was from.
Hey, I’m heading downtown. Can’t sleep and I wanted to take a break from home :>
He bit inside his lip. Todoroki clicked on the message, sending him down to the very bottom of your chat room. His fingers hovered and deleted message after message, word after word. The chat bubbles danced for a while until he unintentionally pressed send.
He lurched forward with wide eyes, reading his sent message.
Sure, I’ll go shower rn
“Fuck!-- Nice going, Yosuke.” He breathed out, pinching the bridge of his nose as he dragged it down.
Another ring came from his phone, feeling his dread quickly pushed away as his throat banged as if he could choke his heart at any moment.
He peeked over the screen.
Haha, okay ^^ see u
[NAME sent a location]
Seeing your lighthearted message, Todoroki released a breath he didn’t know he held. Crisis averted. Would you even mind? Did you get in the same situation as him some time ago? He kinda hoped so…
Brushing the embarrassment off, he got up and made his way to his shower, hoping to clear his muddled mind.
After dressing up nicely, Todoroki walked down the cool and uncharacteristically quiet streets downtown.
It only occurred to Todoroki that this would be your first time hanging out in person since the party. Hard to believe, sure, but with your schedules and his intent on never breathing a word about you to his gang, that insignificant time frame of one month suddenly became precious moments he’d never trade.
Todoroki shook his head, sighing as he curved the corner, hands stuffed in his leather pockets. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions. You were technically still acquaintances… Unless sending memes and funny cat videos were a sign of your affection— it was still too soon to call any shots unless this date– hang-out went well.
What were you planning? You mentioned something about cafe dates being a go-to, but would cafes even allow caffeine during this time? What do they sell in cafes other than caffeine? Is there anything you’d like?
“Over here!”
Todoroki raised his head and followed the voice, straight to you. Standing underneath the streetlight, you waved toward him. The fluorescent warmth made your features shine in the treacherous sea of strangers.
You didn’t look tired, or was that just the grin on your face? Todoroki couldn’t tell. He felt like he could drop all his worries now. You were there. Mere feet away.
Fuck… he was in deep. And as his body practically gravitated towards yours, Todoroki knew he wasn’t escaping from your fingers any time soon.
But, he’s honest with himself. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
The midnight grind doesn't stop 🙌 /j
but anyways... um, listen I don't know either. Words just... spat out... as always. Ugh, why can't I be this sappy on command!? (〃＞目＜)
Being fr right now: That image with Todoroki working out has been eating me up, it's insane <(_ _ )>
behold, the crew 😎🥂: @airbendertendou, @star2fishmeg, @straysugzhpe, @simpforchuchu, @strxwberrychocolate, @prodbyblush, @thatpoindexterpixy
#rouzu fics#high&low#high&low the worst#high&low the worst cross#high&low x reader#todoroki yosuke#todoroki yosuke x reader
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giving my opinion on the whole drama going on,
i’ve been a fan of the triplets for around a year and a half now. i’m going to be completely honest i only start to watch them because i found them attractive. i never had a problem with l***a and m**i until recently. signing 3 teenage boys to a management because your daughter watches them on youtube and definitely finds them attractive is so strange and weird and also the relationship they have with their manager is so weird. she treats them like family when they are her clients. they can’t fire her because they are best friends with their managers daughter, so they are kinda forced to stay with zstardigital.(i’m guessing they obviously want to stay)
now with the m**i and matt dating rumours. it was funny and entertaining, i don’t think a lot of people knew it was satire(i felt like it was) but as we know the triplets are sensitive and can’t take backlash, so them talking about this on the most recent podcast shows that they obviously did have enough, which is very surprising since they rarely ever talk about stuff like this because they don’t want to come off as “controversial”
i didn’t really understand when nick said he deleted tiktoks for “privacy reasons” i just thought it was strange since he deleted them in the time span of everything going on in the fandom. basically matt deleting “your never gonna find someone like me tiktok” set everything off.
i do think the sturniolo fandom is a little insane, but most of it is young teenage girl who would kill for them. the other half is older teens who just watch them for entertainment. the people who are giving death threats to their female friends are clearly the younger fans. but i feel as they are making their fans feel guilty and im talking about the fans that haven’t really done anything(i personally think it’s embarrassing being apart of this fandom when they have to call out people and i personally feel guilty even if i haven’t done anything, i just cringe that there’s people in the same fandom doing shit like that) i also feel as the triplets can be very ungrateful when their fans are literally paying for their rent.
im sorry if you don’t agree, this is just my opinion, the worst thing the triplets could of done was sign to a management, well the one they are sign to.
also since when did nick love chapstick so much to make it? no clue.
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo
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Hi. We are all wearing meat/skin suits, lemme tell you something nice about yours, please?
🫡♥️…🦵🏽💪🏻 👁️🫦🦶🏽👂🏽👃🏽🦷👅
TODAY, I’ll be… live girlblogging body positive comments to all audience submitted photos on tumblr live.
Today: Saturday///September 16th///11am-4pm EST
follow me, join my live to see the logistical shit show attempt of my dreams!
READ MORE BELOW TO FIND OUT HOW THIS WORKS ☺️
the general run down:
$10 VENMO = 1 positive review for 1 photo of anything below the neck, any and all body parts and genders are encouraged!
every body is beautiful and it would be my honor to keep your photos unseen while sharing an authentic description and positive comment! Yes.. even you, cis straight men, I know your dying to send those 🍆 pictures to someone because you’re not sending them to people without their permission right? Right. 👍🏽👀😅☺️
You keep the power.. Although a description of the photo is given on the live stream to the audience so they can participate, you can choose to send a pseudonym, keeping your body totally anonymous. Private reviews are not yet available!
Do you have a body part you want to show off?
Do you have a part of your body that you want someone to look at but you’ve been too embarrassed to share it with many people?
Did you take a sexy selfie and want a pansexual woman’s opinion before you send it?
As a polyamorous cis black woman/content creator/recovery rangler/tumblr OG, it would be my honor to shower you in cute kindness… or whatever about it. ☺️
🦵🏽💪🏻👁️🫦🦶🏿👂🏼👃🦷👅🍑👌🏾🖖🏿👀
THE DETAILS:
📸 you lovelys can send your photos via my ASK BOX include a 4 digit number for reference. These photos will never be seen by ANYONE else and will be deleted at the end of each stream.
👅 send your VENMO payment on PRIVATE with your tumblr name, your 4 digit code you included in your PHOTO ASK, AND your pseudonym (if you’d like to use one)
😜 PHOTOS AND VENMOS ACCEPTED WHILE LIVE STREAM IS STREAMING ONLY! Please folks I can’t wake up everyday to a mix match quilt work of bodies… although… almost a dream of mine 😅😂 bodies = fine expensive art on this page
🖼️ everybodies bodies are to be respected at the very least and loved at the very most. You decide what feels or is right for your body. A fact that slaps. It’s all yours. We are all trapped on this rock, hurtling through space, on a cosmic journey through this particular life time collectively and the body your currently in is the personal spaceship 🚀 that being said, WE NEED TO KEEP THE CHAT RESPECTFUL. There are no bad bodies period. That’s it. The end. Full stop. I’ll be looking for moderators, but for now… it’s just a small, almost blind, anemic, sensitive, crybaby, soft girl stupid running this blog and live stream so bare with me and KEEP THE CHAT CHILL. Obviously we are going to make jokes and laugh because bodies are weird and crazy like wtf cells and shit 👀 but keep it lowkey. Thanks.
💵 I ONLY use VENMO. I’m still deciding on how this will work and I’m a noob with boobs. Please just stick to one form of payment. I cannot accept … NFTbitten coins. Thanks.
🧍🏻♂️🧍🏾♀️🧍🏼I will be looking to start a discord if you’re interested add me on tumblr and message me! idk wtf we finna do in there but someone mentioned it once 😂
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I really want to know, why does it bother you so much that there are cis gay men in the world who do not want to have sex with afab people? it triggers your dysphoria and makes you feel bad, I gather that much, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t entitled to their sexual boundaries.
especially when there are countless posts made by gay people that are talking about same sex attraction that get dog piled by trans people feeling excluded, when they just are inherently excluded from some peoples sexual attraction.
gender and sex are different yes? and sexuality is based on sex. this seems to be something we disagree on. trans men are men, they have the right to live as themselves and transition, but they are still trans. not everyone is going to be sexually attracted to them, or have them included in their sexuality, especially people who are single sex attracted. I want to know what’s transphobic about this.
your crusade to get cis people to accept any genitals in a partner is actively driving a wedge in the lgbt community, I would like to understand your perspective beyond “this makes my dysphoric, I feel excluded, therefore I will create the term TEHM and make these people into villains on tumblr.com”
I ask this out of curiosity, I am interested to hear what your takes are in one place since it’s hard to find your whole POV across multiple posts. We don’t agree and probably won’t ever agree, but I hope you can see where I’m coming from and I hope I can do the same for you.
I was going to delete this ask, but this is the most politely that one of you has come into my inbox. I don't have the energy to write up anything that long about the subject but I'll try my best.
As I have stated many, many times, I don't care if an individual cis gay man doesn't date or fuck trans men. I really don't. The problem arises when cis gay men claim that they cannot be attracted to trans men, or that their supposed lack of attraction to us makes us any less male or any less gay.
A cis gay man making a blanket statement about never wanting to date/fuck a trans man in specific is like an allistic person loudly proclaiming that they would never date/fuck an autistic person, or a white person saying they would never be with a POC. While their individual choices don't matter, their "preferences" reveal that they are bigots.
"Trans men are men" is incompatible with the idea that gay men cannot be attracted to us. Hell, I'm a gay man, and I love my fellow trans men. If a gay man truly sees trans men as men, he will have the capacity to be attracted to us. The idea that sexuality is based on sex can be easily debunked by many examples of cis gay men dating and fucking trans men, as well as the fact that we have documented evidence of so-called "I'm only attracted to biological males!!!" type of men unknowingly fucking stealth trans men.
Now onto my more important point, the issue with TEHMs is not that they embarrass themselves by making a huge display about how they're so obsessed with hating boypussy, but that they try to claim that their own lack of attraction to trans men means that we should not be included in gay male spaces.
Not every cis gay man is going to be included in the attraction of every other cis gay man, but we don't see fem4fem cis gays claiming that masc cis gays don't belong in our spaces, do we? But because trans men are treated like shit even by other queer people, no one comes to defend us.
And as for posts that talk about "same sex attraction" being dogpiled by trans people, yeah, they deserved that. Gay trans men and transfem lesbians experience homophobia, and the vast majority of experiences that TEHMs call "SSA experiences" apply to us. Gay trans men are a very diverse group of people with very different experiences and daily lives from each other.
I also did not coin "TEHM." It was coined in 2017 by another Tumblr user who I don't remember the username of.
And before you go "but what about cis gay men who are trans allies who just aren't attracted to them 🥺" and to that I say, please show me someone. I have yet to meet a cis gay man who claims to have a genital preference or who says he would never fuck boypussy, who is also a trans ally. They all end up going mask off immediately. And so many of them try and make their subconscious biases that make them believe trans men are unattractive my problem.
It's true that we probably won't ever agree on this, especially if you're cis. If you're trans, I wish you the best of luck overcoming your internalized transphobia, and my blog will be waiting for you when that time comes. You seem to misunderstand the problem that I and other gay trans men have with TEHMs, and it comes from the bias that we're just entitled women who want to fuck gay men.
Obviously, when a gay trans man calls out bigotry, he can't ever have a point 🙄 it must just be someone refusing to play along with his fetish! (sarcasm)
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Hello everyone, as some of you know, I had deactivated my old account due to harassment and other asks I was getting. Amongst other things, I was in a bad place and felt anxious and unsafe, so I deleted.
I could delete a blog and leave for a couple of months, but I can’t delete the bullying and harassment I was a part of when it came to @yooniesim on that blog. This is a public apology from me to them. We spoke in Dm because I reached out to apologize, but they are deserving of a public apology. If this makes you uncomfortable or you’re looking at me funny because this is someone you don’t associate with, feel free to unfollow or block me but I’m apologizing because I was out of line and regret my part in the hate they’d receive.
This might come to a surprise to some of you or if you don’t know what I’m talking about you’re confused.
If you’ve followed me in the past, you’d know I didn’t like yoonie/ceci. You’d know I’d use them as the butt of the joke, just because. Even though I had them blocked and they blocked me. Instead of just blocking and moving on…
I’ve talked shit about ceci publicly and interacted with posts questioning their identity that was very problematic and disgusting especially as a non-black person. I’ve also said some stupid shit in private that I regret.
I have reflected on this for a while now and have regretted ever speaking out of line towards ceci. Not even to their face I’ll tell you that. As a non-black Latino who claims to be an ally of the black community and as someone who is also mixed race, I should have known better to ever speculate or question ceci’s racial identity when people were always questioning and assuming mine. I was doing the same shit people were doing to me, to them. My stupid speculations lead to serious harassment being sent to ceci.
Not only that, but I was in a space that I shouldn’t have been in that was speculating their racial identity, egging on and making fun of them. Because I personally believed in my stupid ass theory that they weren’t being truthful about their race. *the problematic Mapanou post*
Mapanou made a post calling ceci a koreaboo and compared them to logic (the rapper) “holding on to that 25%”
I made a comment on that, making a joke. I don’t exactly remember what I said because when mapanou added to that post they added some weird rhetoric about mixed black ppl that I won’t get into because that isn’t a topic I should speak on, but I deleted my comments after seeing them add that to it.
I just know I was questioning their race and cracking jokes in that comment section.
Feel however you feel about ceci. That’s your prerogative, but I’ve felt guilt and I’ve felt hypocritical all this time and I’m not asking ceci to be my best friend and I’m not doing this to look like a saint. I’m doing this because I want to and because I know what I did was wrong.
Anybody else that has had an issue with them in the past, that’s their business and their business alone. I’m not here to talk about other peoples issues or experiences w/ ceci. I’m here to talk about my part in this.
At the end of the day, I was a bully. I was egging on and adding petty remarks and jokes to be funny. They weren’t funny at all, they were stupid, ignorant and immature. I’m truly embarrassed of this behavior.
If I simply didn’t like this person, I should have just blocked them in the first place and move on with my life, but I didn’t.
This is something I want to learn from and move on from to be better and do better. All of this occurred months to a year ago, but I look back and hate how that was me in the beginning to mid-2023/2022. That isn’t something I’m proud of. I know some people know me for being truthful and honest but that shouldn’t have to be at the expense of others. And being truthful and honest doesn’t always mean you’re in the right. You can be incredibly loud and wrong.
I’m done with simblr drama, simblr discourse, whatever you want to call it. If I don’t like someone or see something weird I’m just going to block and move in silence, that should have always been the first option. I’m just here to vibe and share my sims with the community and see people’s creativity.
I don’t have any ill will against anyone, I don’t want to spread hate to anyone and I don’t care for chisme (gossip) about others or myself. I’m done being that kinda person.
I am so sorry for everything ceci, I know an apology cannot change the things that came from this, but I hope we could coexist on this site and have respect for each other when we pop on each others timelines.
Again, I’m apologizing for my part because I deem it necessary after so long and I strongly believe that my doing was foul as fuck and wrong. Whatever issue anyone else has with Ceci is there problem and there’s alone. I cannot speak for others. I can only speak for my side and no one has to publicly speak out, but I’m choosing to do so because I was questioning ceci’s racial identity and cracking jokes about it.
#fae.txt#this apology was long over due#I know this may come as a shock to some but I felt in my heart that I had to do this and I wanted to do this#especially after taking a break from this site#im going to stay logged off after posting this bc of anxiety but I’m glad I did this
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╰┈➤ shameless (e) - tbaw.
⋙ alternative foreplay to the smut scene in this chapter.
why was it deleted. i added more to the conversation between reader and eren about the whole floch thing and the transition between that and the sex didn't flow as well, so i got rid of this.
what changed. nothing really
ft. fem!reader, eren.
cw. unedited, fem!reader, explicit language, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, cuts off before the good part. 2,000 words.
Please remember that this scene was deleted for a reason and that nothing that happens here occurs in the actual story posted on AO3. This is just fun bonus content for people who are interested in reading more.
context. Reader is sitting on Eren's lap in the hotel room after scolding him for saying gross things with Floch about another girl.
Eren breaks away from the kiss, trailing his mouth along your jaw until his lips are brushing against your ear. “Do you want me to help you forget about work?” you hum in response, curling your hands into fists against his bare shoulders. “Do you want a massage?” he asks, voice low in your ear. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“Yeah, ok,” you say, “But no sex — I’m still mad at you.”
“Whatever you want, baby,” he says — and he means it.
He lifts you up off of his lap and onto the bed beside him. “Lay down on your stomach,” he says, nodding toward the bed.
You tug the neckline of your shirt (his shirt) against your collarbones, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Do you want me to take this off?”
Yes, fuck.
Even though Eren agreed to give you an innocent massage, his cock twitches in his pants when he realizes the two of you are alone in his hotel room. Fuck, he’s so horny for you, it’s embarrassing.
He nods in response, looking down at the bed in shame as you pull the shirt up and over your head, tossing it down onto the ground before laying on your stomach on the bed.
“I’ll get some lotion,” he says, quickly standing up and heading to the bathroom. Sure, he needs lotion, but he’s also running off because he just got a semi from seeing your bare back.
He is so fucking pathetic.
When he comes back out to the main room, you’re still laying on your stomach with your arms folded under your head. You aren’t wearing a bra and the waistband of your shorts hangs low on your hips.
Eren bites his lip to hold back a groan as he settles on the bed beside you, his weight causing the mattress to dip and you to slide closer toward him. He pumps a few squirts of lotion onto his palm before rubbing his hands together, warming the lotion up before he touches your back.
“How do you like it?” he asks, trying hard not to sound as horny as he is when his hands start rubbing up and down your back.
“Hard," you say quietly, muffled by your arms.
He presses his hands a little harder into the muscles of your back, kneading and sliding against the firm skin as he searches for tight spots to be worked out.
Eren has a little bit of knowledge about how to give massages thanks to a girl he hooked up with a few times back in university — a physiotherapy student. She showed him some of the basics on how to use his body weight to add more pressure, to keep it gentle over bones, and to read the person’s reactions to know where to spend more attention.
It has proven to be a very useful skill in helping Eren get laid more than once, so he’s not surprised that his dick has a Pavlovian response to giving massages, but he tries to hide his raging boner as he kneads through the tense muscles in your back.
He notices that you’re the tensest around your neck and shoulders, which makes sense because you’re hunched over your laptop all day at work — but he also notices that you moan and arch your back a little when he runs his hands down your waist and when he kneads little circles with his thumbs into your lower back.
“Does that feel good?” Eren asks, voice thick with lust as your hips buck up into his hands.
“Yeah, really good,” you respond breathlessly.
Eren swallows thickly as he nudges down the waistband of your shorts, thumbs dipping lower and pressing harder into your lower back as you groan beneath him. Your skin feels like it’s on fire under his touch and he’s rock hard in his pants, but he can see the way your body is melting into the mattress from his massage, so he desperately tries to pull himself together until —
“Can you take them off?” you ask, hips lifting up off the bed.
“Your shorts?” Eren blurts. He feels like he's a teenager again and seeing a girl naked for the first time.
You move a hand from your face down to your hips, tugging your shorts and your underwear lower down your hips. “Yeah, they’re uncomfy.”
Eren does as you ask, grabbing the waistband of your bottoms and pulling them completely off of you. He tosses them off the side of the bed and tries not to grope your ass. Instead, he keeps his hands busy by pumping a few more squirts of lotion onto them and rubbing his palms together.
He tries to focus his attention on your back, he really does, but every time he runs his palms down to your lower back, he finds himself dipping lower and lower until he’s kneading at your ass with both hands. Eren grips you hard, stroking his thumb up and down over the meat of your ass as he pulls you open to look at your small, puckered hole.
“Is this ok?” he asks, voice tight.
“Yeah, keep going,” you say quietly, shifting around on the bed.
So he does. He tries to keep his movements firm, kneading out the tense muscles of your ass, but he can’t deny the small amount of excitement he gets each time he spreads you open.
Eren scoots down a little on the bed so he can work on your thighs, taking a moment to palm himself through his shorts for a bit of relief as he looks at how beautiful you are, laid out for him like this. After a few quick jerks of his cock through his shorts, he returns his hands to the bottle of lotion to pump more onto his hands.
He places his hands on either side of your right thigh, just above the knee. Pressing hard with his palms and the pads of his fingers, he drags his hands up your thigh until they meet the bottom of your ass. You moan and squirm in pleasure, spreading your thighs a little bit as Eren’s hands slide back down to above your knee.
Eren repeats the motion, watching as your body visibly relaxes from his touch. He thinks it’s funny the way your muscles are softening under his hands when his are doing the complete opposite. When your thigh feels loose and relaxed under his grip, he moves over to your left leg, repeating the process as you make small gasping moans into your arms.
He notices this time that when his hands move up your legs that there’s a glistening wetness at the apex of your thighs. The sight makes him audibly groan as he pushes his weight harder into your thigh.
“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling back, “Sorry.”
“Keep going,” you urge, spreading yourself open a little more for him.
Eren moves a hand to each of your thighs and slides them up to your ass, his thumbs dragging across your inner thigh and brushing just at the crease of your upper thigh. His palms find your ass again, spreading you open with his thumbs and watching your pussy open for him like a blooming flower.
“Fuck,” he groans, pressing harder. “Sorry.”
“Why do you keep apologizing?” you groan, hips lifting off the mattress slightly to give him more access.
“I don’t know,” he admits, thumbs brushing dangerously close to your slick entrance. “I just want to give you a nice massage.”
“This is nice,” you assure, looking back at him from over your shoulder. “Do you want me to roll over?”
You’re teasing him now, he realizes when your eyes glint back at him. How long were you laying beneath him, getting worked up from his hands on your body, pretending like you weren’t?
Two can play that game.
“Yeah, turn over.”
You flip over onto your back but drape your arms up and over your head to hide your face. Eren takes a moment to appreciate your naked body as he coats his hands in more lotion.
“Anywhere, in particular, you want me to focus on?” he asks, challenging.
“My thighs are pretty tight.”
Eren pushes his shorts off of his hips, discarding them off the side of the bed with your clothes and allowing his cock to fly up against his stomach. Hard, heavy, and leaking precum, he gives himself a few firm strokes, cupping his balls and squeezing them gently, before reaching forward to massage your thighs again.
He starts with the right thigh, repeating the motions from before on the front of your leg. Each time his hand moves to the top of your leg, he lets his fingers brush against the folds of your pussy and you gasp at the sensation.
He moves to the next leg and repeats the process, watching as you squirm and blush beneath him. Your breathing is heavier now, each breath causing your breasts to rise and fall on your chest. Your thighs and pussy are flushed in arousal and when Eren’s motions pull you open, he watches you drip down onto the mattress beneath you.
“Massages work best if there’s some stretching involved, too,” Eren says, grabbing your thigh to throw it up over his shoulder.
At this, you remove your arms from your face to look up at Eren with a flushed, fucked-out expression. You let your arms fall back on the pillows at your side as he looms above you with your ankle hooked on his shoulder.
“Just relax,” he coos, hands pressing against the mattress on either side of your head as he leans his body forward. He presses your thigh up against your chest slowly — so fucking slowly — and he can feel the drag of his cock between your legs as he moves — back and forth, back and forth.
Eren notices that your eyes are still a little red and swollen from crying earlier about work and it breaks his heart. You seem fine now that you're looking at him with that dazed look, but he leans forward enough to softly press his lips against your forehead before pulling back.
He leans back all the way, settling your leg back down onto the bed before pulling your other leg up on his shoulder. He repeats his movements from before, leaning his body slowly over yours as he pushes your thigh against your chest.
This time, when he rocks his hips, the head of his cock catches on your entrance. You whimper at the feeling, hips rolling in hopes of catching him in just the right way until he slides inside of you — but Eren pulls back.
“How do your thighs feel?” he asks, and when you open your eyes you see him looming above you with lust-darkened eyes.
You’re enjoying his teasing, but your mind is so clouded with arousal that you just say: “Fuck me.”
He chuckles, bringing one hand down to your other leg, spreading your thighs open wider as he keeps rocking his hips against you. “I thought you said, no sex?” he asks.
“Fuck me,” you repeat, just a breathless whine.
“I just want to give you a nice massage,” he coos, leaning forward until the tips of his hair brush against your face.
You successfully manage to angle your hips in a way that has Eren’s cock sliding inside of you, and both of you moan out in pleasure from the feeling. You’re so wet from his massage and his teasing that he slides in easily against your tight, wet walls, despite the way your body squeezes around him.
“Fuck,” he grunts, succumbing to the feeling of you wrapped around him and pushing his hips until he’s balls-deep inside of you. “You’re so wet.”You can only whimper in response, so drunk off the feeling of him inside of you and the need for more. All you can do is clench around his cock as your hips shift urgently against him, desperate to be fucked.
#i was going to share a jean smut scene today but i decided instead that team eren needed this more#tiff.fic#tbaw.fic#tbaw.deleted
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What No One Tells You About Writing #6
This round we’re doing some recent discoveries on my writing journey. Some are less groundbreaking and more “I did not expect this to become an issue” things, which, hey no one told me about them, either.
Part 5
Part 4
Part 3
1. Switching tenses between your WIPs is not easy
Up until my upcoming book (Eternal Night of the Northern Sky, go check it out) I wrote exclusively in past-tense with very rare exception save for a fanfic here and there. I cannot remember what compelled me to write ENNS in present tense, but I’d committed and 10k words in, there was no going back to change it.
Committing in the first place made it very frustrating trying to actively remember my English verb tenses and sentence structures (and I am a native English speaker) that just have not come naturally to me in 8 years of writing, but once I got it, I got it.
So while waiting around during the editing process and trying to go back to past-tense for another project, past-tense started to look janky and awkward and my WIPs, too, are now written in present-tense. I am undecided on how to feel about this beyond annoyed that it is a problem.
2. Implied sex scenes have surprising pros and cons
I’m of the belief that sex scenes, like action scenes, should serve a purpose and do a lot of heavy lifting. It’s not just the actual progression of movement between the characters, it’s the exploration of trust and vulnerability, the consummation of a relationship, the growth of these two characters together with a new understanding (if this is meant to be a huge moment and not, like, an establishing one-night stand). Otherwise it becomes gratuitous fluff.
Enter the problem: I cannot write all the character development that occurs during a sex scene, if I cannot also write the sex. All of that newly broken ground on trust and gushy emotions has to come in the buildup before I decide to cut away and in skipping the rest of that scene, I have to essentially freeze the character development until I pick up the narrative again in the aftermath.
So if it’s a moment that’s meant to be the climax of two characters trusting each other, or anything that would require them talking through this important milestone in their relationship, I have to rework everything around the redacted narrative.
Sex scenes are just so unique that way. People can be very sensitive about them, they’re very tricky to get right, very revealing about what the author thinks is sexy and attractive, incredibly important relationship milestones for the characters, and, aside from torture or extremely graphic violence, the only scenes you ‘fade to black’ on and leave it up to wild imagination.
*OP why don’t you just bite the bullet and write the sex? Because I want to be an inclusive author and you’ll enjoy my book even without sex to go write your own, but you might not read it if it’s on the page because of personal taste or triggers or beliefs, okay?
3. Your crutch words will haunt you
Here is a list of 40 of them. I will never be the kind of author that struggles to make my stories longer. To everyone who does, I wish I had your problems—trying to trim the fat off a narrative already running at breakneck speed demands trimming individual words off sentences sometimes. Like crutch words.
These carry over from real-world conversation, words we don’t always realize we’re relying on. My big one is “just”. I had a 125k word manuscript and had over 600 instances of “just” and maybe only a dozen were warranted by the time the ax fell.
Good news is, once you see them and embarrass yourself finding, replacing and/or deleting them, you become very aware of them in your writing. Crutch words are a lot like cursing, which I talked about in Part 5—not including them doesn’t leave a big of a crater in the dialogue as you might think. I still use “just” and “so” but “so” is worked into my writing style as a syntactical element and I tend to leave my “so’s” in place. “Just,” on the other hand, can be cut 99% of the time.
*Disclaimer, those dozen “justs” I ended up keeping in that manuscript were all in dialogue, because while the narrative should be clean of crutch words, personally I think keeping them as your characters’ crutch words can make them feel more human.
4. Breaking up dialogue-heavy scenes with movement can get tedious
This is entirely dependent on writing style. Some books will have entire unbroken paragraphs of dialogue, make a new paragraph, and keep going with the same unbroken dialogue. Some will split a monologue up with character movement or reaction to whatever’s being said. Some authors are very frugal with dialogue tags (to varying levels of success) and some over-describe the movement of their characters or use way too many superfluous tags when “said” is not actually dead, your primary education lied.
Just keep in mind that writing is, well, written. The intonation of words might be completely lost in translation if you slap your reader with a wall of text, especially in an important character moment, and they have a critical misunderstanding in how they’re supposed to perceive the line being delivered.
This is why we use italics for emphasis. We’re still trying to legitimize the interobang (!?) because it’s very useful, and we’re very far from legitimizing Tumblr Speak to convey sarcasm and sincerity. How we convey tone is generally isolated to the generation we grew up in and the technology we had available (like how younger generations interpret ellipses compared to their parents).
There’s that Tumblr post out there that goes: “I never said she stole my money,” and claims that the meaning behind the denial changes wildly depending on which word you stress, seven different ways—and that person is absolutely right.
Every dialogue-heavy scene is a case-by-case basis, and best advice I can give is to have your betas pay extra attention to those scenes, making sure they interpret it right, or even having someone read the dialogue back to you with inflection to make sure you’re tagging and describing it properly.
Too many breaks for narrative and you risk clogging up the scene. Not enough and you lose a lot of the emotion behind their words when you aren’t describing how the speaker is visually reacting to what they’re saying.
5. Truth really is stranger than fiction
Maybe it’s the capitalist hellscape we all find ourselves in, but for example: If you told me someone wrote a book about a submersible, built for tours to the Titanic wreck, and was dubbed “Titan,” run by a company called OceanGate, failed via catastrophic implosion on its descent to the most infamous maritime disaster in history, infamous for its hubris as the “unsinkable ship,” only to find out that the company with “-Gate” in its name circumvented and ignored multiple regulations and expert opinions…. I’d call that the most contrived and lazy attempt at a criticism of human folly I’ve ever seen.
And that sh*t really happened. Titanic is already almost mythical for its hubris. The engineer of that ship stared God in the face and said bet, and lost. Then you have the same damn incident happen a century later, for the same damn reasons.
Truth might not be ‘stranger’ than fiction, perhaps as equally contrived, equally unbelievable, and can reach equal amounts of astounding stupidity. Anyone, anywhere, for the rest of literary history, can no longer say “that deus/diablo ex machina would never happen” because it can. It did.
6. You’ll find inspiration everywhere, but have nowhere to put it
Deciding what kind of story you want to tell takes so many layers, it deserves its own post that has been covered plenty else by other writers over the years but since I write fantasy and sci-fi, my inspiration usually starts with “I want to write a story about X fantasy element” and I go from there. Then the sub-genre, like if it’ll be an adventure, urban fantasy, high fantasy, what time period, etc. Then the theme.
If I’ve got my laptop close, I can polish off a whole first chapter in maybe two hours. And then… it gets dumped into my “stalled projects” folder, to be saved, but moved aside so it doesn’t clutter the workspace of WIPs I’m actually invested in.
Sometimes they’ll get revisited, sometimes my enthusiasm wanes as quickly as it came on. It can get disappointing and discouraging, but if anyone ever met your “I want to be a writer” with skepticism, or you yourself fear that you’ll be a one-trick pony in a creative slump forever: The inspiration probably isn’t the issue, it’s committing to the story you dreamt up.
7. Just because it never gets published, doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value
My writing journey began with original works back in middle school, then I gravitated toward fanfic once I discovered it and got a huge confidence boost from all the positive feedback from my readers, then felt restricted by my fandoms and switched back to original works. The very first novel I started out with was my sci-fi WIP, eight years ago, that will likely never see the light of day as it was written. I have two completed books that could be self-published right now.
The problem: Book three, of a planned five, generated a “deleted scenes” pile that quickly outpaced the word count of the actual manuscript because I cannot seamlessly fit every arc of my ensemble cast when and how I want them to happen. And, as previously mentioned, those 8-year-old characters have suffered me using them as writing therapy, and some elements have gotten far darker and more convoluted than I intended, because the worldbuilding pool got way deeper than a book with an ensemble cast can support.
But even if it never gets published, it’s not worthless. Those two books sprinted so I could jog. They were so detailed and so complex and had so many layers that starting over in a different genre with something simpler like ENNS was a breeze. I’d cut my teeth on a narrative that demanded an insane amount of behind-the-scenes production that nothing else would ever be as hard.
Not everyone will have that experience, but if you’ve saved all your old and cringey works from your early days, go back and read them and compare them to where you are now, and hopefully you realize that you’re turning into the author you thought you would be, even if you’re not quite there yet.
Now go write your insane mega-hit waiting to happen.
—
Upcoming blog topics!
Tackling beginnings and endings
Why we should normalize content warnings
Crutch tropes #2 - "we're not so different"
#writing advice#writing resources#writing tips#writing tools#writing a book#writing#writeblr#fantasy#scifi#what no one tells you about writing
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Complex feelings and absolute pandemonium about my mental health aside- going back to reread and look at old posts to relive memories (mostly the very bad cuz I was not a good person when I was in the fandom and am beyond embarrassed about it-) has been an absolute disaster of a healing journey.
May be redrawing some old sketches as a checkpoint of that, so comic updates are going to slow.
I ask that everyone remain polite to my wishes and not tag anyone who you see my art addressing. For example if a draw or redraw fanart from a fanfic, do not reblog tagging the author.
Most certainly I am not remembered fondly by those people, and that’s okay.
In my answer to the Donna headcannons ask, I included one very specific relationship headcannon. It’s not a coincidence- that was me. Back when I was part of this fandom during its peak- I was that lil toxic jerk that ruined shit for other people. I have no excuses for this- young and dumb, pretherapy, unknowingly, flat out being stupid- it doesn’t excuse my actions. As much as I wanted to be a good person- I was not- I did good things- but at my core I was rotting. I still am tending to parts of it.
People are going to remember me as that lil toxic jerk. That’s why I hope ya’ll respect my wishes as I redraw old stuff. Everyone deserves to enjoy their passions without someone, something- a memory- ruining it (again) for them.
I’m sharing these redraws because there’s a story here I hope people take inspiration from. Whether the story is about forgiving others for their past mistakes, learning that you’re not alone, or embracing your embarrassments- that’s different for every person. If that story is lost on people, I have every right to delete it all.
And as for that headcannon, Donna has and always will be the person who trekked beside me through this hellscape that is my mind. As I’ve written stories and drawn more where she gets that happy ending, I see a road for myself- as corny as that could have possibly sounded. There are weights I carry that I must learn to let go- memories of people who have come into my life for a season and changed me forever that probably even despise me now- and one of them is going to be Donna eventually.
Eventually.
For now she’s still very much on the forefront of my mind lmao.
Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk<3
And for you, you know who you are- the one who was the largest victim of my toxic foolery and had the unfortunate responsibility where I crashed upon you from tumblr dms and just wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone because of your work- if you’re by any slim possible fucking chance you’re reading this: thank you for moving on. It sounds so silly, but abandoning me was the right choice, despite all my abandonment issues. I cannot ask for forgiveness after the manipulative bullshit I did to you- the best that I can ask is that your best is an even better person then before for those that’ll have the blessing to be let into your life. Which, from what I’ve read on the latest update to said work, I am reassured you have.
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Hey. I saw you deleted all the excitement/nonsense from the other day, wanted to check in on you. I realized that while I've been on this hellsite for 12 years and seen and experienced a great deal of my own anon drama, I forget how overwhelming & terrible it feels when it first happens to you.
I failed to notice that, in addition to being very new to this site, you're also only 18 (please note that this is not meant to sound condescending - tone is impossible to convey via text). I was a couple years older than that when I joined here, and I carried just as much excitement and energy into everything I posted and reblogged and quickly gained a reputation for myself. From what I've observed from your blog though, mine was decidedly...less fun & positive, so I got a LOT of anonymous messages telling me what they thought of me. I would spend a lot of time thinking about those anons and the terrible things they said to me, constructive or not, objective or not. It didn't matter how many support messages I got from friends or mutuals, or how much we mocked the anons or made light of the situation - I was angry, embarrassed, felt like nothing I did would fix it, and sometimes didn't want to log onto this site anymore, despite it being the only outlet I had to express myself in this way.
It is normal to focus on the small negative in spite of the overwhelming positive - healthy? No. But normal.
My point is: Please do not let this nonsense deter you from being you. Not everyone is going to like you, and that is totally fine. Not everyone is going to like how you post/reblog on your blog. Speaking solely for myself, I generally keep a more contained dashboard I can scroll through quickly at work, so I don't follow your blog, but I don't translate my personal feelings on how you blog into my personal opinion of you as an individual. Everyone blogs differently on this site, which is what keeps it interesting. I'm also not so chronically online to go out of my way to send you a 5-paragraph essay about consent or being hypersexual in a fandom for a gay Satanic band. Instead I'll send you a 8-paragraph essay trying to comfort you and to tell you not to despair, lmao.
I LOVE your enthusiasm about how you express yourself in your posts & reblogs, and it seems there's a shit ton of blogs around you that feel the same way & express themselves the exact same way. Don't lose that spark! Don't let them rain on your parade! [Insert another cliche phrase here]!
Take time if you need a break, but please understand you did nothing wrong. Everything said to you was someone's opinion they wanted to force on you to control how you behave because they themselves are terrified of the world around them and don't understand they cannot control others. Hopefully one day they'll realize how sheltered and, quite frankly, stupid they are. I did.
My advice: if you ever reopen anons and start getting those messages again, delete them and don't engage. Most of the time they're just looking for attention, to rile you up. Classic bullying tactics.
Or print out their messages and use them as firewood. Or toilet paper. Whatever works.
Lastly, you don't have to acknowledge this or publish this message if you don't want to. Genuinely, I just wanted to reach out and make sure you're okay and to attempt to longwindedly impart some advice from my own experiences over the decade.
You do you, dude. Fuck the haters.
Thank you so so much for this incredibly kind and comforting message ♥︎ I really appreciate it more than you could imagine, it even made me cry reading it. I feel like this message is a good closer for this situation, so I’m also going to use it as an opportunity to give a little PSA about how my blog will be operating from now on.
First of all, just thank you again. I’m honestly astonished because every single thing you mentioned is exactly how I feel. The hurt of it all despite getting so much support, the empty feeling of not wanting to go on tumblr anymore despite it being my only outlet. Tumblr was supposed to be my safe space, my escape, my home, and it really sucks because it honestly doesn’t feel like that anymore.
I think the thing that hurts the most is that literally no one reached out to me as a friend in the dms to tell me that I was bothering them. I’m not a mind reader, so if no one says anything then I assume I’m not bothering them. But I do pride myself on always being approachable, I’m ALWAYS open to people messaging me with their concerns.
It’s different when it’s some faceless anon who comes off as slightly passive aggressive. If someone would have just DMed me, I definitely would have put more thought into it and taken their suggestion. Since I haven’t been on tumblr long, I didn’t even know the difference between reblogging with a comment or reblogging with tags until literally just now during this whole situation.
I just feel like I’ve been serving spaghetti every night for dinner. 9 people say they absolutely LOVE it, but then I come to suddenly find out the 10th person doesn’t. But they never said anything all this time, so how was I supposed to know?
I’ve had two people block me who I thought were my friends. One who, during this situation, even said she’d always be there for me. Basically, she informed me that our mutual friend had been upset about my comments and apparently never said anything before this, so I reached out to that friend and apologized. She apparently got triggered by my apology, and they both blocked me. That hurt. A lot. And if I’m being honest I’ve been fighting so hard not to self harm during this time.
I feel like I’ve been treated like a malicious criminal over this, when in reality everyone should know damn well I’ve never done ANYTHING to deliberately make people feel bad.
And don’t worry, I definitely did not take the comment about my age to be condescending. In fact, I wish more people would have taken it into account. And the fact that I’ve only been on tumblr for 6 months, so I don’t really know much about it.
I have a life outside tumblr. I’m a student, and I’ve had to be a full-time caretaker to sick relatives who have now unfortunately passed away. I’m grieving. My father abandoned me and my mother, so I’ve had to take over doing all the things that he used to do.
I come on tumblr, I scream about everyone’s favourite satanic antipopes, I post some fics, and then I close the app and go about my life. I don’t research the history of tumblr and what’s deemed acceptable by certain groups of people. I’m a human. I’m a real teenage girl, with feelings. I’m able to be hurt, and triggered, and everything else. I know I’ve created a personality for myself on here, and I think people often forget that I’m a real girl.
I wish I could say I’m okay, but right now that spark definitely feels dampened into a sad little ember. Since this has happened, I’ve almost stopped eating entirely, and when I do eat, I immediately throw it right back up. My Mom took me out to eat and I threw up in public. This has honestly had my stomach in knots.
Today was the first day I actually didn’t feel nauseous. So hopefully time will heal this wound. I wouldn’t wish this on ANYONE, but I’m glad to see you got through it and made it out ok. I’m hoping for the same outcome for myself too.
Now for the PSA portion of this message (everyone please read):
Will I stop being unhinged? Hell no. But I will be moving any horny comments into the tags, as suggested by the people who had complaints. The absolute last thing I want to do is alienate people and make people uncomfortable. (I still have questions about reblogging with comments tho, for example, if I say something not horny should I still put that in the tags or is it ok to comment that?)
Secondly, my best friend suggested that I should just start taking my unhinged comments and making them into posts of their own, so I’ll probably do that too. I think I might tag them with some cheesy tag, probably a pun on nsfw (not sugar for work?) so that if you’d like to blacklist that tag, you can, and then your dash will be safe for scrolling at work or wherever. And you can just click ‘view post’ if you want to view it.
So, rest assured, the horny party will never stop! But since I’ll be putting my stuff in the tags, you probably won’t see it circulating as much as reblogged comments, so if you want to see me being unhinged, just come to my page and scroll through!
Also, I’ve gotten so many other supportive messages and I want to thank everyone for sending them in. I won’t be answering them, because I don’t want a lot of stuff about this situation on my blog. And this is going to be the last time I talk about this situation on my blog. But the supportive messages really do mean a lot to me, so thank you all ♥︎
I feel malaise, so I might still be absent for a little while, but I’ll try to get back in the saddle as soon as I can. I haven’t been in the best mindset to write, but I’m really going to try because posting fics and running this account genuinely make me happy.
Thank you for taking the time to read, and I hope to see you all again very soon
Love always,
Sugar <3
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this is maybe silly to tell you about but i'm very envious of how smart you seem and the level of grasp you have on theory that feels incredibly scary to me. i was in uni for sociology, and save for one text that i understood from start to finish, the rest of it always felt like it was deleting my brain cells slowly and made me feel stupid, even as smn who had grown up being a "literature" person. i think it's just a matter of getting started, but it all feels embarrassing >>
what I’m about to say is going to sound very masturbatory and self-aggrandising, but that can’t really helped on account of the fact that the topic is what a smart little boy I am
one, thank you! I’m always very flattered when people give me this compliment. I don’t think it’s silly at all. two, I’m pursuing a PhD in the social sciences with the intent to stay in the academy after I get my doctorate, and my particular field of study skews towards critical theory. on average only 1% of people in canada have a PhD, and a fraction of that percentile have my particular academic trajectory - all of which to say, I am an outlier amongst a peer group of outliers, so I’m an extremely bad measuring stick to use when judging your own critical capabilities. I’ve been in post-secondary school for roughly 7 years now and will be in it for at least four more, and for the past 4ish of those years my main source of employment has been teaching and research, so I am both paying for and being paid to read theory and teach it to undergraduate students in small classroom settings. By the standards of academia I’m very junior, but I have a lot of specialised training in talking and reading, which is to say, it’s taken me a very long time to be where I am now. My academic career depends on my ability to produce original thoughts and write them down in a way that both speaks to existing scholarship while contributing new things to said scholarship, so I’m in an environment that enforces a very particular kind of discipline that is not remotely common or normal. Being a graduate student isn’t a rich profession by any means, but you are paid to learn information and write it down - something I would not be able to do if I was working a full time job.
I also frequently don’t understand the shit I’m reading! It’s extremely difficult to read academic texts because they’re meant to be read in classroom settings where you’re forced to voice your confusion, speak with other people about what you’re reading, defend your positions, connect it to other work, synthesise it in essay format, and so on. My live-blogging of books I’m reading is an attempt to simulate that, because I tend to learn best when writing out why I have the opinions I hold. Being confused isn’t a sign of stupidity but rather a simple fact that you’re brushing up against concepts and theories that take people their whole careers to develop and publish.
My own background in academia is also very eclectic, so I know a little bit about many topics, but there are very little topics can I speak authoritatively on - I can’t speak about the state of knowledge on, say, international relations, or critical race legal scholarship, or employment disability policy, but I know vaguely of those things. I’m not even a well-read marxist lol
All of which is to say - I am a horrible metric to compare yourself to. I am one of the few sickos who genuinely wants to remain in the academy for the rest of my life because I sincerely believe in the pursuit and production of knowledge, and my chance to do so is largely dependant on my ability to explain myself to other people. Put another way, I have spent my entire adult life training to be a marginally popular communist tumblrina on a website primarily known for producing supernatural actor porn. So either way don’t feel bad about it
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