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#starting point were top left and bottom right pictures and then it rolled from there
canonskyrissian · 2 years
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"You're a weird Jedi."
"And you're an odd Sith."
for my jedi lando/sith luke au
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jasminexox5 · 1 year
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warnings: panty sniffer yuta, pervy jealous yuta
“Yuta, would you be able to get my phone charger from the bedroom please?”
Nodding his head yes and quickly getting up from his spot on the couch to head upstairs. Passing the photos of you and mark together on the walls feeling the jealousy running through his veins. He has had a crush on you the minute he saw you. When he saw you holding hands with his best friend his whole world went red, he wanted to be with you so bad. He still does.
Getting to the top of the stairs and turning left into the bedroom and then seeing the mess it was left in. You forgot to clean up the mess in the bedroom after the sex you had before Yuta and Doyoung came to visit. The bed is still unmade and the clothes from before laying on the floor. Your sweats laying on the floor and then that's when he spotted your underwear right next to the bed. White lace underwear, his favourite.
He didn’t want Mark to know but one day you came out with the boys on a trip wearing that pretty pink dress he loves. The wind caught in it as Yuta was walking behind you flashing your clothes cunt to him. Quickly pulling your skirt back down after the wind catches it but that moment was enough for him. Spending nights on end thinking about your sweet cunt and your ass. All that he could think about was you and how it would feel to be deep inside of you making your legs shake.
He tried to ignore the underwear on the way to the bedside table picking up the charger but he found himself picking the fabric up. When he was scrunching it up into his pocket he realised it was still wet…. Your pussy juices are still dripping through the fabric drenching them. Yuta unconsciously put the fabric up to his nose sniffing your scent. He shouldn’t have done that because now his cock is straining and twitching in his pants. He was drunk on your scent, he needed more.
Stuffing them into his hoodie pocket before sneaking off to the bathroom next to the bedroom slamming the door behind him. Pulling the hoodie up over his head, throwing it on the floor beside him. Taking the underwear out of pocket before pulling on the stings of his sweats, pulling them down enough to play with his cock. His underwear hung low on his hips as he palmed himself watching how his cock was twitching at the thought of you.
Sliding his thumbs under the elastic pulling it down letting his cock hit off his lower stomach. Grabbing the underwear bringing it up to his nose before wrapping his hand around his base jerking is his cock. Letting his eyes shut and his head roll back against the door letting out a soft groan as he pictures you on your knees for him. Biting his bottom lip trying to keep his noises quiet, not letting anyone hear what he was doing.
His mind started to wander to the horrible dirty things he wanted to do to you and your body. Thinking about that summer day where he caught you with the popsicle. Your eyes sparkling from how happy you were when Mark handed you the ice treat, taking it out of the packet and then licking the tip of it thinking nothing much of it but Yuta was watching you from afar behind his sunglasses. Following each movement with his eyes wishing it was his cock. Yuta loved how innocent you were, he would have to teach you everything. That just made it more attractive to him.
His fist moving faster and faster when he started to think about fucking your pretty face. Forcing his cock down your throat while you try not to cry at the feeling in your throat. Your puppy eyes looking up at him begging him to stop which would just egg him on further. All of your makeup now ruined all because of his cock, your mascara running down your cheeks and your chin covered in spit and his pre cum. He was never the same after that time he caught you sucking Mark’s cock in the bathroom at the dorm.
He was fucking into his hand at this point he couldn’t control it he knew his orgasm was just around the corner. Never wanting to take the panties away from his nose, forgetting what you smell like, he wants to remember this for the rest of his life. Every muscle in his legs tensed up as he hit cloud nine, his breath hitching in his throat biting down on his moans. His cum shooting in ribbons into his lower stomach and chest. Yuta’s whole body was shaking for a while, he has never experienced a high like this. This only made him want you even more but he couldn’t. You were with his best friend. He didn’t want to ruin the years of friendship over you.
Looking for a rag to clean up the mess settling on the fabric on his hand. Letting the silk glide across his chest and stomach making sure it soaks up everything. The fabric was drenched after he was clean of any bodily fluids. Pulling his underwear and sweats back up before leaving the bathroom going back into the bedroom before leaving the underwear under your pillow ready for you to find.
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insanelyadd · 8 months
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The Collector's Hat Sewing Pattern and Tutorial
Image of the pattern I made with measurements:
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As a little heads up to people with big/small heads and/or more voluminous hair, this was based on measuring my own head which has a circumference of 22 inches which is dead on the average and my hair is completely straight and relatively flat. You may need to do some adjustments of these measurements because the final fit is very fitted, in that it can be easily put on and taken off but does not fall off on it's own under typical circumstances.*
This pattern is meant for knit or other stretch fabrics, I did not make a completed version with woven or stiffer fabrics, so quality may vary depending on the material you select. I recommend knits.
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If you are new to sewing or this is one of your first projects you are doing without a physical pattern, I recommend following the given measurements and drawing it out on some type of paper first and then using that as reference for yourself. I am an outlier when it comes to not making patterns and drawing the shape of what I want out onto the fabric directly, and you shouldn't follow my horrible example. This hat is actually the first time I've even made a muslin prototype.
When you are going to cut out the pieces you need to make sure, like double and triple check, that if you were to lay them pattern/top side up, that they would mirror each other like in the above picture. If you don't then you'll have two lefts or two rights.
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The first actual step for sewing is taking the straight lines from the V shaped notch in the top of the hat, and lining them up by folding the piece in half so the patterned/top of the fabric is on the inside of the fold, like in the picture above. You do this on one half at a time. When they are lined up sew them with a straight line stitch a 1/4 inch (1/2 cm) in from the cut, starting at the fold towards the top of the hat.
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After that you want to lay them pattern to pattern, and pin them into place to make sure it's aligned properly on both sides. To reduce bulk I recommend making the excess fabric from the darts (the V cut-out) point in opposite directions, as shown in the above picture.
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After you've sewn the sides together there is an optional step that I did to make sure the seam lies flat on the top of your head. I opted to sew both sides down onto the blue half of my hat because my machine was being picky and skipping stitches on they grey fabric if there was no blue fabric as well (I got around this on the hem by inserting thin pieces from the blue's selvage into the seam). But if your machine isn't being picky or you are hand sewing this, then you could split the excess and sew them down onto their corresponding half. Example above, as usual.
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Optional step that MUST go here. If you are attaching a ribbon, or lace for a trim to edge you have to do it now. I do not recommend this step to beginners. I recommend sewing it down while rolling the edge to create the hem, and then securing the other side of the ribbon/lace further into the piece because this guarantees a better placement and straighter lines. If you are doing this step along solely the bottom or front edges then let the lace/ribbon stick out further than the edge of the fabric, so you can fold it under the hem.
The final required step is to hem it, just fold what remains of the raw edge and sew it down.
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Final optional step is for adding little trinkets. I added trinkets to the front corners and the floppy bit in the back like the Archivists are depicted as having. I used embroidery thread and slid the needle to go between the seams and tied it off on the inside. If your trinkets are not detachable, like the little stars on my hat, you need to thread the needle through the ring before putting it back into the hat and tying off the thread. Thinner cord or thin ribbon could work as well.
*I actually just did some tests and I have to be tilted further back than lying flat on my back for it to fall off. I was able to bend over and look through my knees and it didn't fall off. I tested it's wind resistance against my two strongest fans and neither could knock it off my head even when I shook it. So I think it will stay in place just shy of someone pointing a leaf blower at you.
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Enjoy these pictures of the finished product, including a glamor shot of me wearing it backwards while I fumble with my phone for a picture.
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coldfanbou · 1 year
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Getaway Trip
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Keeping this part simple, it's rough sex and self-degradation in here.
Length 1.4K
Jennie x M reader
The dark woods gave way to the series of cabins along the lakeside. As you stopped in front of yours, you got out of the car and looked at the calm water. Jennie took her time getting out; you had to drag her out of the city to get away for a while. “This is where we’re staying for the weekend?” She says with some disgust in her voice. 
“Don’t sound so annoyed, Jennie; you need this more than anyone. Besides, I know a place where we could get some good pictures for you to post.”
With a roll of her eyes, Jennie responds, “Fine, just give me the key to the cabin. I’m going to go change.” You toss her the key before getting everything out of the trunk. Jennie has been annoying you the past few days with her negative attitude, so you thought disconnecting her for a little bit might do her some good. The lakeside cabins would be empty besides the two of you, meaning you had absolute freedom to do whatever you wanted. Soon enough, Jennie came out of the cabin dressed in a tight orange top and black bikini bottom. Unconsciously you lick your lips, looking at her toned body. As much as she annoyed you as of late, you still loved her body. “Well? Where’s the place you wanted to take me?” 
“Right, right. I’ll take you over right now; you’ll love it.” You pack a few things before you leave, some snacks, your camera, and some flashlights. Having everything set, the two of you move through the woodland trials before eventually heading off into a thicker treeline; at this point, you pull out your flashlight. The brush was too heavy to let any light in here. The sunlight, unable to pierce through, left the area in utter darkness. You feel Jennie cling to you, a fear of the unknown causing her to worry. Her small chest rubbed against your arm as she shrieked at the slightest noise. The sound of small critters moving through the brush would send Jennie into a frenzy. 
“I don’t like this! There’s something out there!” She cries.
“There’s nothing out there, Jennie; I’ve come here a million times and have never seen anything.”  Having come out here for years, you knew the area well enough to say for certain that nothing was here.
The sound of twigs breaking causes her to panic. “No! There’s something there!” She yells. Jennie falls to her knees and holds onto your pant leg. You try to coax her into getting back up, but she violently shakes her head, too scared to move. 
“So what? You’re just going to stay here until it gets dark and the animals start to come out?” Being so close, you lift Jennie and carry her the rest of the way. “You’re such a baby Jennie. We’re so close.” Carrying her in a bridal manner, Jennie buries her face in your chest and covers her ears. You continue down the dark path, eventually leaving the dark woods and reaching a cave near the water line. The sunlight shines, marking the cave as if it were some magical place. “We’re here, you big baby” You plant Jennie on the ground, and she looks at the beautiful cave. The sunlight comes from two different areas, from the sunlight overhead and from the clear water reflecting it. This light allowed the natural color of the rock formation to grant you an excellent background for any photo you took.
Jennie is silent for a moment before turning around to yell at you, “That was too scary! Couldn’t we have taken another way!?” 
“Yeah, we could have if you wanted to scale some cliffs. This place only has one real entrance.” She huffs at your response before sitting by the water; it runs over her feet as she pouts. You sit near the mouth of the cave and take out your snacks, waiting for Jennie to get over it. After a while, you get sick of waiting and walk over to Jennie to splash her. 
“Hey! Stop that!” She says as you keep throwing cold water her way. Her body reacts accordingly to the cold water hitting it, and Jennie’s nipples start to poke her top. 
“Not until you repay me for carrying you through the woods.”
Shielding herself from the barrage of water, Jennie asks, “And how am I going to do that?” You stop throwing water and get right next to her, your crotch right next to her face. 
“You’ve been so annoying for so long, Jennie; I’m going to use you.” 
Jennie cracks a smile. “You know I’ve been waiting for you to do something about me being a brat.” You pull down your pants to reveal your hardened cock; when Jennie tries to kiss the head, you shove her down to the base. Wasting no time, you hold her head in place while you thrust into the back of her throat. Jennie places her hands on your thighs as you use her mouth like a fleshlight. She looks up at you, pleased to be treated like a toy. Jennie can’t help but get wet from your violent use of her mouth. As you ram into the back of her throat, you focus on the feeling of her tongue sliding along your cock and licking at your balls. Jennie always made such a good fucktoy. Your orgasm approaches quickly as you keep using Jennie; you bury yourself down her throat, pouring your seed down it. Jennie can’t drink all your cum fast enough, causing her mouth to fill up, and eventually, it spills out from the corners of her mouth and onto her top. 
As you look into Jennie’s eyes, they’re half-lidded. You smile, knowing she’s just a cum drunk doll for you to use now. “Daddy, I’ve been a bad, bad girl.” She manages to get out with a slur. Once she’s had some of your cum Jennie was prone to calling you, daddy. She hungrily licked up the cum on her face as she pulled down her bikini bottom and flipped onto her stomach to show you her wet pussy. “Daddy, I need to be punished.” She says in a cute voice. You don’t need to be told twice, cock in hand; you ram into Jennie’s ass. She screams in pain at your sudden entrance before calming down. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, that’s the wrong hole.” She whines, still cum drunk.
“You know this is what happens when you’re a bad girl Jennie.” Is what you tell her as you start thrusting into her tight ass. 
“You’re so mean, Daddy.” Jennie’s ass was one of the tightest you’d ever been in, and you loved it. The pressure of her walls squeezing down was enough to cause you some slight discomfort, but the way you had shaped it to your cock made it all worth it. The subtle curves of her anal walls bumped along your cock, giving you all the pleasure in the world. Jennie’s arms went limp, and her face was pressed against the ground as you continued to pound away at her small body. Jennie was happily accepting her punishment now, “Fuck me, daddy. Fuck your little slut. Fill your cum dump.”  she kept repeating as you fucked her asshole. Soon enough, Jennie was on the verge of cumming, moaning, “Daddy, I’m going to cum, I’m going to-” She couldn’t finish her words as she squirted all over the ground. Her orgasm caused her asshole to constrict around your cock, elevating your pleasure and sending you over the edge. You blew your load, sending all your hot cum into her ass. 
After you pull out of Jennie, you grab her face and ask, “Who’s my little cum dump?”
“I am daddy.” she responds with a grin. 
“Pull up your bikini bottom; I want to take some pictures, and you'll post them online for everyone to see.” 
“Okay, daddy,” she says with a drunken giggle. You snap a few pictures of Jennie for her to post later. Once you’re done, you pack everything up and carry her back through the dark woods. Jennie ends up falling asleep as you carry through back to the cabin. Once she woke up, she was much more agreeable and enjoyed her time in the woods.
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kitashousewife · 1 year
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text me
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an: i luv luv shoyo he is so sweet and special. i thought he would be perf for this!
pairings: timeskip!hinata x fem!reader
warnings: none, fluff fluff fluff!!
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the cloud of vapor that swirls from hinata's lips causes him to shudder. for the first night since high school, he stands at the bus stop in the middle of winter.
the sky paints a beautiful picture above him with vivid streaks of pink and orange. those that pass by offer him a friendly smile or nod, and the sun sets with a warm goodbye.
if he didn't know any better, tonight almost feels hopeful.
hinata can't help but smile. really, today couldn't have been worse. not only did his car not start this morning, but he lost his wallet as well. he missed almost every serve at practice, and he's pretty sure he rolled his ankle at some point. the cherry on top was when every teammate of his left, leaving him stranded at the gym.
which is where he finds himself now, standing at the bus stop with nothing but the keys to his apartment. he chuckles to himself as he pictures his wallet, resting in the middle of his kitchen island, where it always is.
a habit he can't seem to break.
thankfully public transit is free, or he would really be stuck. he fixes the beanie on his head, one that he found at the very bottom of his gym bag, and checks his phone. it's friday night, which means the start of a small break for MSBY before their next trip. hinata grins once more, remembering his plans for the night. a quick shower, grabbing something to eat, before heading to bokuto's for some movies and hopefully, drinks.
the hiss of breaks grabs his attention, pulling him away from the group chat on his screen. he steps on, finding a spot quickly, and lets out a sigh of relief at the warmth. his cheeks turn pink, nose a tad rosy, but he feels at ease.
when the bus pulls away from the stop, he feels a bit more relaxed. he's already mapped his route home, only six more stops to go. his fingers come up to run his hands through his hair, completely forgetting about the hat. it slips off, slowly falling to the bus floor. hinata's fingers reach to grab it, but he's met with something much warmer.
"oh-"
"sorry-"
he looks up and meets your eyes, and can't help the gasp that leaves his lips. how he didn't notice you before, he's not sure. you're breathtaking.
at this rate, he's never fixing his car. not if it means he can see you again.
"here," you gesture the hat towards him, and he accepts.
"thanks. y'know, i forgot i was wearing it," hinata smirks. "i just don't wear hats very often."
"you're welcome. i know the feeling."
a silence falls over the two of you. with only the isle between you, but it feels like yards away. you were dying for an opportunity to talk with him since he walked on the bus. his bright smile, soft red hair, and cheery attitude were almost magnetic.
"so," you clear your throat. he looks in your direction with his eyebrows raised. "do you take the bus often? i don't think i've seen you on before."
his arm reaches up to scratch the back of his head. "almost never, actually. you see, my car wouldn't turn on this morning, and i didn't have time to fix it today. i was able to get a ride this morning, but i was left on my own tonight," he shakes his head with an airy laugh. "but i don't mind. i used to ride it a lot in high school."
you hum. he points to you.
"how about you?"
"oh!" you suddenly feel nervous with his warm brown eyes on you. "the bus stops right in front of my work, so i just take it in every day. much easier than driving through downtown during rush hour."
"right!" hinata turns his full body towards you in excitement. "i absolutely hate when our coach schedules practice for those times-oh, my name is hinata shoyo by the way," he reaches his hand out, and you share your name while you shake. "my teammates never seem to care though. i just get so impatient,"
"tell me about it," you sigh. months of trying to navigate the stresses of the parking lot come to mind. "you mentioned teammates, right?"
"yep!" he beams. you could melt on the spot. "i play volleyball, um, professionally," his words trail off at the end with a polite, less enthusiastic smile.
this is the part where hinata usually falters. the conversation goes one of two ways after this; either they perk up at the sound, suddenly interested in the word professional, or they roll their eyes. no matter how he delivers it, it's never received in the way that he hopes.
"wait, for MSBY right?"
his ears perk up. "yes! how-"
"i've seen you before. there's a billboard right outside my office."
he nods, almost a little embarrassed. he really hopes that it's at least a good photo.
he only has a couple stops left, and he really doesn't want to blow this. you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, and he is positive that this isn't by chance.
"w-well, i could get you tickets if you would like. i mean, if you're into that sort of thing,"
you smile. "i would love that! i've actually always wanted to go to a game,"
"what! now you have to go," he laughs, a real laugh and you can't help but feel warm inside. you can't seem to remember the stresses of the week, not with him beside you. "here, if you wouldn't mind."
he hands you his phone, contacts already opened and ready for your information. you fill it out quickly, sending yourself a message before handing it back to him.
"we're actually headed to tokyo next week, so our next home game won't be for a bit. but, i promise i will let you know when i find out!"
"you're sweet."
hinata blushes. his mouth opens to speak, but he's cut off by the hiss of the bus breaks once again.
"well, this is me," you stand up, grabbing your things.
his stomach flips.
"mind if i join you?"
you giggle. "to walk off the bus? is this even your stop?"
no, it's not.
"why not?"
you think for a second before nodding. he gives you a toothy grin. the two of you thank the bus driver before heading off, one right after the other. hinata hits the pavement with a sigh.
"it was good to meet you tonight," he says your name with a smile.
"you as well hinata. got any fun plans for the evening?"
"i was going to see some of my teammates. how about you?"
"oh my gosh," you stretch, looking up at the light dancing of stars. "order take out, watch a show, go to bed late," you shake your head. "nothing too exciting."
the two of you stand in silence once again. hinata kicks at a rock on the sidewalk, and you pull at a thread on your jacket.
"hey-"
"yeah i-"
the two of you look at each other with shy smiles and quick laughs.
"i have a few days off until we head to tokyo. would you want to get some dinner with me before then?"
"i would like that," you eye him as he starts to turn on his heels.
"okay, then it's a date!"
"see you soon, hinata. text me!" you shout with a giggle and he turns around to give you a wink.
"you can count on it!"
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bigdumidiot · 3 months
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Yesterday I played a 2k game against a friend of mine :3
I was ultramarines (his models) and he was necrons (his own stuff)
my list comprised of
Guilliman
Marneus Calgar
Apothecary biologis
2x Librarian in Phobos (1x fire discipline)
Librarian in termie
Techmarine
Heavy intercessors
Eliminators
Infiltrators
Suppressors
Termie Ass. Squad
Mario kart (invader atv)
Kratos tank
Redemptor dread
Bringing it to a total of 1995 points B3
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He brought a list of uhhhhh necrons loll
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(Some proxies in there, with def not a dread and helbrecht)
The game itself was interesting because the rules were the deployment zones were split to the table corners with two per player with it alternating so I had bottom left and top right corner. You would designate one as alpha and the other omega, then when deploying the unit you roll a d6 (1-3 alpha, 4-6 omega).
So for deployment, PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING WAS PUT ON ALPHA WITH GUILLIMAN ON OMEGA ALONE WITH SUPPRESSORS
luckily I had some units with infiltrate that I put on the side of guilliman to help him out a bit.
Meanwhile my friend had a good balance of units on each zone . ..
On turn 1 I ended up going first , which is what I wanted. I made the destroyers with dmg 6 my oath of moment target and ended up wiping it and the void dragon as my second oath target.
On his turn 1 he did some damage on my dread (6 wounds taken) and he moved his ctan void dragon and I overwatched the kratos and did 5 damage on him. And the void dragon did some damage on my ass. termies and I removed them in a way that made his charge a 12’ charge which he failed. On the other side he moved his warriors closer to guilliman.
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On turn 2 I moved up more units to the objective near the alpha deployment zone for me. And had the void dragon killed through a bit of shooting and the void dragon exploded , which killed his doomsday ark and destroyed my dreadnought ;;
On the other side I went into the assault doctrine to advance and charge guilliman and the infiltrators and librarian into the warrior blob. I made the charge and spent a command point for precision on guilliman to kill the overlord. I used the emperors sword (14 a, 8, -2, 2) and ~11 attacks went through and 1 deb wound.
..THE OVERLORD SURVIVED !!
that guy is ANNOYING
He has a 4+ invuln, 4+ fnp, 6 wounds and for 1 com point he can come back to life after being killed 💀💀
(Guilliman and the warrior/overlord were tied in combat for 4 turns in total lmaoo)
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By turn 3 we were trading units, with him taking more losses than me but in points it was going 9 for me and 17 for him. It was so over for me, or rather I thought it was lost.
However on turn 4 THINGS TURNED
At this point I was able to move most of my units from alpha deployment into 3 objectives and guilliman and his group killing enough to out compete the warrior oc for that obj. So in primaries I scored max and in secondaries I got investigate signals and assassinate, AND I SCORED MAX FOR THAT TOO BRINGING ME UP 30 POINTS
at that point it was going like 43 to 31 in my favor with him having less and less units on objs.
We stopped at the top of turn 5 with me having units on 4 in of the 5 objs, the overlord finally dying , and him having only 2 units left. It was a pretty fun game that I couldn’t have guessed to have ended with me winning pretty good at the start with it going like 60-something to 30-something in my favor.
I typically play black templar with heavy emphasis on melee so it was diff playing primarily shooting and using librarians for once loll.
(Hopefully I remember to actually take more pictures next time I decide to do this again loll :3 )
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stuffing-seattle · 12 days
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Angie and Sasha Pt 1: Sasha’s Discovery
“Oh goddammit, not again!” Angela’s frustrated cry rang out through the house. “What is it?” Sasha called out. Sasha and Angela had just graduated college, and had been living as roommates that whole time. Angela rounded the corner into the living room where Sasha was watching TV. “I outgrew another pair of pants.” True to her word, she was wearing only a tank top and panties, her too-small jeans draped over one arm. Sasha gulped and tried not to stare. They had been living together since freshman year, but back then, Sasha had not given Angela a second look. In those days, Angela and Sasha had been on a pretty equal playing field, physique wise. Both were very slim. Angela was 5’8” with red hair, porcelain skin, and shapely breasts. Outside of those curves, Angie really had nothing to speak of. Sasha was on the very opposite end of the spectrum. She was only 4’11”, nearly flat chested, and had a flair to her hips that could not be disguised, no matter how hard she tried. When they met, Angie played for their college soccer team. She had a toned, flat belly, and strong muscular legs. Sophomore year, Angela tore a ligament, forcing her to give the sport up. Angie’s athlete appetite never changed though, and over the past two years she had slowly gone from 130 pounds to somewhere closer to 200. Angie’s figure had not been able to turn Sasha’s head until recently. Sasha stole a glance at Angie, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Her flat, toned belly had long since evaporated, now replaced with a sizable pooch that peeked out from the bottom of her restrictive tank top. Her legs had maintained most of their muscle, but it was very obvious where she had gained weight thanks to her panties that she had kept from her skinny days. They squeezed hard at her thighs, the soft skin spilling over the sides. She now had tiny love handles that strained that the top of her undies. The back of her panties were stretched tight, and were beginning to resemble more of a thong as her ample ass enveloped the cloth. Being top-heavy before, a lot of her weight had gone straight to her breasts. They had started as respectable C cups, but based on how they struggled to free themselves from the tiny tank top, they looked closed to DD at this point. Sasha tried to hide her blush by running a hand over her face. Angie’s voice broke her out of her trance.
“God I wish I could get back to how I looked in Freshman year.”
“Why?” Sasha blurted out without thinking. “I was skinny back then.” Replied Angie, as if the answer was obvious. “So?” Sasha replied. “You look great right now.” Angie rolled her eyes. “That’s easy for a little stick like you to say.” This comment ignited an anger in Sasha’s chest that she didn’t realize she had. “Some people would kill for the body you have! Quit being a bitch about it!” Sasha’s hand flew to her mouth as soon as the word left her mouth. She had never called Angie something like that before. Angie recovered from her shock, before Sasha could. She had always had the more level head of the two. “Wow, that was… a lot. I think there is something else going on here. I suggest you take some time to cool down and think about what that thing is.” With that, Angie stormed back to her room.
Sasha took Angie’s lead and went to her own room. She flopped on the bed, and threw the crook of her elbow over her eyes. What the fuck was that? She thought to herself. Angela was right, something was going on, and she needed to get to the bottom of it. *What do I want?* The thought swirled and tumbled about in her head, and in the darkness of her elbow, images started to come to her:
*Slut* was the first word that flashed across her brain. She imagined herself on her knees, sucking the cock of a stranger, and him covering her face in cum. This was in stark contrast to who she was now: A insecure virgin, who hadn’t even shared her first kiss. There was something missing to this picture though. She imagined a second stranger, and her guzzling down both their cocks at once. She began to get that familiar burning in her belly, and a wetness grew between her legs. This was closer, but there was still something missing. She imagined a third stranger, a tall woman in high heels, fucking her with a strap-on, while the two men fucked her throat at the same time. Sasha’s lower lip began to tremble at the thought, and she started slowly playing with her clit. She ran through this scenario for almost a half hour, imagining her mascara running from the tears of her gagging on the fat cocks. Imagining those same dicks penetrating both her holes at once, while the woman made Sasha eat her out. The idea of the men dumping load offer load into her nearly sent her over the edge, but no matter what she imagined she just could not quite cum. Something was still missing.
In the deepest fits of her lust, she let go of all of her reason and let every fantasy she could think of in. She imagined her roommates slowly softening body. How jealous it made her, but also how desperately it turned her on no matter how much she tried to ignore it. She imagined the men pumping her full of cum again. Then she imagined her belly swelling up with one of those stranger’s babies. That baby ruining her perfect little body and a horde of strangers using her over and over again. Being treated like a farm animal her only two objectives in life to be fed and then bred in a constant cycle. Her belly swelling up with food and babies until it brushed the floor and she could eventually not move, and strangers coming in and using her for relief anyway.
That thought finally did it, and Sasha came harder than she ever had in her life. She convulsed, and she used what was left of her broken brain to clap a hand over her mouth so she would not scream. It was minutes before her body finally stopped shuddering and bucking. When Sasha’s mind finally cleared, she wanted to feel guilt at the degenerate thoughts she had, but found that she couldn’t. It was as if she had undergone a paradigm shift, and instead of hiding away these fantasies, she was going to turn them into reality.
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ashes-writing · 2 years
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q u i e t | csi miami ; t. speedle
|| taglist,babes + req rules + send ?s + masterlist + kinktober masterlist ||
** graphics made by me courtesy of pinterest + google image search. The list of prompts provided so generously by @the-purity-pen -huge thanks, y'all please go check them out. **
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𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 ; 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢
Summary ;
--- trying to stay quiet in your childhood home.. with your parents present. this will be easy, right?
Pairing ;
Tim Speedle x fem!reader
--- no physical description given beyond having female parts.
Warnings ;
--- minors, abso-fuckin-lutely not. In addition to the prior, pinv - unprotected, body fluids, emphasis on reader / Tim trying to stay quiet so sounds will be overexaggerated, use of pet names (male and female ones ; baby, doll, princess, babe ), dry humping if you squint, oral sex - female receiving / male giving, lots of biting and marking, etc, teasing, holy shit.
Taglist ;
--- the people listed below are the only ones I have on my csi miami/vegas/ny taglist. If you'd like to be added, click the little link up top.
@beardedbarba - this all your brainchild.. remember that prompt you mentioned a month ago? yeah.. this is inspired by that. @calmcoast@justmeandanoverdrive@uncrownedmox
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The bed in your old bedroom is so much smaller than you remember it being. Tim slips into it behind you after he’s finished his shower and you sigh in content as his arm slips around your waist and his lips dance across your shoulders. He chuckles softly and this prompts you to roll over so that you’re lying on your side and you face him in the small bed. The creak from the mattress as you roll over facing him has both of you snickering quietly. You slip a leg over his hip and he presses a kiss against your lips. 
“What was so funny, hm?” you ask, pouting in the darkness. Tim smirks at you as his hands start to roam over your sides, one of them settling against your hip. When you wiggle around to get closer, it causes you to rub yourself right against the way he’s starting to strain at thin pajama bottoms and you bite back a whine. 
“Nothin, it’s just.. This,” he gestures to the room you’re currently lying in together, “Is not how I pictured your old bedroom, darlin.” and he chuckles again, a husky sound that hangs in the air for about half a seconds. You stick out your tongue.
Tim is in a playful mood tonight. Maybe it’s got everything to do with the current situation being one of his old fantasies that hung around after his teenage years were long gone, maybe it’s the fact that you’re the girl he’s going to spend the rest of his life with, maybe it’s both. You both said you were going to try to be on your best behavior, but right now, best behavior is the last thing you want.
“You’re feeling playful tonight.” you gasp as Tim’s hand slips up the bottom of the shirt you borrowed from him to sleep in. His hand settles against your bare cunt and he bites back a groan, his gaze fixing on you. “I’m not the one sleepin’ without panties, baby girl.” he points out, a taunting huskiness to his voice when he locks eyes with you. “I thought we said we weren’t gonna…” he’s touching you all over, his hand rubbing and squeezing your cunt as you rock yourself against it before you even stop to consider just how much noise your old mattress makes or the fact that your parents are night owls and right now, at this very moment, they’re watching the 11 o’clock news downstairs in the living room.
It’s kind of hot, the thought of Tim screwing you in your old bed, bodies tangled for hours in your old Care Bears bed sheets -that of course, your mother left on your bed to troll you, most likely. And when you rock yourself against him after turning so that your ass is pressed right against his semi-hard cock, he bites back a groan and his hands squeeze both your hip and your cunt as he presses himself into you from behind a little better as he laughs against the shell of your ear, “Do y’ really want all your stuffed animals to see what I wanna do t’ you, baby girl?”
“P-please.” you moan out, the sound seems to echo and as you rock against him again with more force, the bed frame creaks, this makes you freeze just slightly. Then you’re thinking about it and laughing at yourself. “Tim, please.” you beg all over again. “I know we said we wouldn’t..” you whine as you rock yourself into him even more, “but I want it so bad.” you moan out the words, both of you freezing when you think you hear footsteps out in the hallway.
His hand starts to rub your dripping sex again and if you thought it was throbbing before, it’s so much worse now. He nips at your earlobe and chuckles quietly. “Think you can stay quiet?” he’s almost taunting you and the look in his eyes when he rolls you so that you’re laying on your back and gazing up at him, it’s so playful like he’s teasing you. Challenging you to stay quiet. Something tells you already that he’s going to see to it that you can’t.
And this is a side of him that you haven’t seen often. He’s playful and teasing.
“If it means you’ll give me what I want,..” you roll over to face him and beg as you grab his face with your hands so that his mouth crashes against yours all over again. The bed frame lets out several long and loud creaks in the darkness of the bedroom and both of you share a look as you freeze yet again when you hear the toilet down the hall flush and footsteps make their way past your bedroom door. 
Tim starts to move down your body, settling himself between your thighs as he wraps his arms around them to hold you open. His tongue drags over the insides of your thigh slowly and when his teeth sink in, leaving a harsh bite against your soft and wet flesh, you just barely manage to stop the high pitched whine short so that it leaves your mouth in a quieter one. Your fingers catch in his hair and you tug as his tongue drags up your throbbing sex, circling your clit, teasing until you have to pull his hair harder like he loves. You’re already so vocal, quiet whimpers and moans as he buries his tongue inside your cunt, fingers joining it a few seconds later. You’re trying to fuck yourself against his tongue but his hand catches hold of your hip, holding you against the bed so your movement is limited.
“Tim, I–” you whine, back arching away from the bed as he chuckles against your clit and the husky sound sends a jolt racing through your entire being, your toes beginning to dig against the printed bedsheets. “Yeah, doll?” he questions and you can hear the amusement in his tone when he chuckles again after a second or two. “Shh..” he taunts, his tongue and fingers burying deeper inside of you after he’s done leaving a string of bite marks and love bites on the inside of your thigh while bucking himself against the bed.
His cock is hard enough that it hurts and any friction is better than none until he’s finally inside of you. You whine out loud when you feel his tongue form the first letter of his first name against your sensitive and throbbing cunt. By the time he reaches the O, you’re almost shaking, barely holding on and you know you’re not nearly as quiet as you promised you’d be. But you also know by the smirk you can feel against your pelvic mound that this is exactly what Tim was hoping for, he wanted to make you a little louder, maybe even scream for him once or twice. It’s a rush for both of you, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.
“C’mon doll, I can feel y’ tense up.. Let go, will ya?” he coaxes, your first orgasm shattering through you after he’s spelled out his name between your thighs and you’ve barely managed to keep from moaning even louder. If you could, you’d scream for him right now, that’s how good it feels when he gets like this and tries to draw everything out. And the fact that you’re both trying not to be loud or obvious only makes things feel heightened.
He glances up at you, your juices and his saliva glistening on his mouth and chin as he licks his lips. 
You’re raising up carefully to grip his chin and crash your mouth against his, the taste of you heavy on your tongue as you pull him into a deep kiss. “It’s my turn.” you mumble. Tim chuckles and shakes his head, rutting himself into you as he comes up from between the sheets and gently shoves you back down against the mattress, burying his cock inside of you. 
“Tomorrow night, alright? I just… Fuck, darlin.. I gotta be inside you.” he groans out against the shell of your ear as he starts to fuck into you slow and steady, an arm raised in a vain effort to keep the headboard from slamming against the wall with each thrust. The quiet creaking of the mattress sounds like it’s loud enough to wake the dead in the now silent house and both of you are fully aware that your parents have just turned off the television downstairs to come up to their own room for bed. As their footsteps make haste past your old bedroom door, Tim goes still inside you and you try to move a little, making him groan against your neck as his lips latch on.  “Easy, baby girl.” he coaxes, sinking in to the hilt but going still all over again as the bathroom door down the hall creaks open and a sliver of light slips in through the crack in the bedroom door. You’re kissing and sucking his neck, your soft whines against his skin making him chuckle. “Baby, you really want it, hm?” he asks, starting to move. Slowly at first, almost painfully so. Your walls squeezing his cock has him growling against the shell of your ear softly as he tells you just how he can’t wait to fill you full.
The more he talks and the slower, deeper he fucks into you, the wetter you get, the lewd slosh as his cock slips in and buries with each deep thrust making him feral. You’re whining again, and it’s getting louder with each steady thrust he makes into you. He’s kissing you and biting at your neck gently, your fingers are digging into his shoulder and dragging over his scalp and it’s just too much when combined with the way your walls vise his thick length so he goes still.
“Love you, princess.”
“Love you too, baby.. Don’t stop don’tstoppleasedon’t..” you’re begging him to move again because you were so close to your second orgasm and all you want is for him to allow it. He chuckles because he can feel the way you’re tense beneath him. “Gonna cum for me again, baby girl?” he coaxes, almost teasing you as he starts to fuck into you all over again, slower -with each stroke nearly bringing his length all the way out only to slam back into your cunt deeper, tip brushing the spongy soft of your g-spot every other stroke because he’s getting a huge kick out of the way you’re trying so hard not to cum for him just yet and he’s determined to make you, one way or another.
“Tim, fuck..” you whine in need.
“C’mon, baby, you know what I want.” he coaxes, his mouth crashing against yours as your orgasm rips through you a second time, and kissing you only slightly deafens the moan that comes out of your mouth just a little. Your nails drag over his shoulders only to curl against muscle and dig in, leaving crescent imprints against his skin as he starts to fuck into you harder and deeper, bottoming out with every stroke as he fights off his own orgasm and grips the headboard to keep it from smashing up against the wall. But he can’t hold off much longer.
“Gonna..” he growls out against the top of your breast as his mouth latches against soft skin, “Gonna cum, fuck..” he groans as his cock starts to pulse, his seed painting your walls white as he covers your face, neck and chest in kisses, clumsy out of tempo thrusts to fuck him right through his orgasm before he goes still against you and kisses the top of your forehead. 
“Have you ever…” he questions, making you blush and giggle as you shake your head no. “Nope.. I mean, aside from getting myself off a few times in college..” and your answer has Tim grinning in the darkness as he positions himself in the too-small bed behind you, neither of you even attempting to bother getting redressed as sleep settles in for both of you…
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hangonimevolving · 1 year
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Best of 2021
Hello!!!!! The year is 2023. Do people even blog anymore? I don't even know! So, I am aware I royally ghosted on my own beloved blog sometime around February 2021. This was never intentional. As per my last post, we had just moved out of our family home of about 6 years into a cozy apartment, and were on our way to a great adventure in gut-renovating a new-to-us home in a new area of South Florida. Life was full, and about to get even fuller. I am going to attempt to catch up on about 2.5 years of our family's lives in this post, and the following two. Here goes. *rolling up sleeves*
So we left off in February 2021, shortly after moving into our short-term apartment (ha! Short term. We thought we would be there for about 6 months.... little did we know, it would actually wind up being exactly one year and one week. Renovations are full of unexpected surprises - read: delays. Especially during a pandemic. But I digress.
Here, pictures. As seen in top left, we spent many days visiting our new house, and brainstorming ideas for our renovation - often using blue painters' tape to mark off, say, where we wanted our new countertop and sink to be. We managed to take a few memorable vacations between April-May 2021, including Sanibel Island (top middle) and the Atlantis resort in Paradise Island, Bahamas (top right). The renovation continued all along with exciting moments such as when a giant cement truck piped hundreds of gallons into the house as we watched (middle left). In May, we visited New Orleans to attend a once-in-a-lifetime event: the consecration of a new Hindu temple (middle middle). This was the culmination of a lifetime of work by my parents and their community of Indian Americans in New Orleans - we were very proud! June brought another milepost in our lives - our little Day graduated (homeschool) Kindergarten, and we marked the occasion with a graduation ceremony at home (middle right). Yes, by the way - we were homeschooling throughout ALL of the above experiences.
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July brought a chance to visit Ba and Dadu in North Carolina, and short road trip to Asheville to visit the Biltmore Estate (bottom left). Once back in Florida, I worked on a quilt for a friend's daughter - a QUEEN sized quilt, the largest project I've ever taken on! (bottom middle). We closed out summer with a fabulous August getaway to the Florida Keys with several of our local friends and their children (bottom right).
***
Once back from the Keys, we had a few days' break before.... we started the new school year! (top left) Our intention had been to enroll the kids in the local public school for which we are zoned, and for which we had gone through a LOT of hell and high-water to move our family to this new neighborhood.... but, alas, late summer 2021 brought along the Delta Variant of Covid. The kids hadn't yet been vaccinated at this point (the FDA hadn't yet approved the vaccine for children under 12 years of age). So literally 72 hours before the first day of school, we pulled the Eject Handle and reverted to a homeschooling plan. Happily, most family members were a-okay with this, as we'd loved the experience the previous year! This school year brought some new ideas to our homeschooling experience, including designing meals around some of our favorite books (top middle), visits to the public library (top right), and a MARVELOUS homeschooling virtual co-op that met monthly on Zoom with 10 new friends from around the country, focused on the topic of World Religions (middle middle).
We continued visiting our mid-construction house each evening to check on progress (middle left). We also spent time at our house on many other occasions, including celebrating our first Halloween there! (middle right). As per tradition in our family, I hand-made all our costumes! We had done an engaging History unit on ancient Egyptian culture, and this year, we chose to continue that inquiry into the design and fabrication of our costumes! I dressed as Cleopatra, Vev was Tutankhamun, Dey chose to portray Sebek (a half-man, half-crocodile god), and Dr. Spouse played Anubis (half-man, half-wolf lord of the underworld).
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WOOT! Sometime in October or November 2021, the kids at long last got their first dose Covid vaccine. I got my booster as well on the same day. We felt like superheroes! (bottom left).
December brought several memorable occasions, such as Dey’s 7th birthday, which we celebrated with a visit to a local antique car museum (bottom middle). We also enjoyed a planned cousin reunion for Christmas in New Orleans - our LAST Christmas ever at Ajima and Thatha’s old house, as it would turn out — because big changes were underway…….
That concludes the year 2021 in our family’s history! It was a good year. In the next post, I’ll give a Greatest Hits of 2022 - a momentous year of change for one and all.
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iloveabunchofgames · 1 year
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2/5/23 - Week In Review
#JakeReviewsItch Week In Review Archives
This week's reviews:
🧡🧡🤍🤍🤍 A Game of Changes 🧡🧡🧡🧡🤍 A Good Snowman Is Hard to Build 🧡🧡🧡🧡🤍 A Hole New World 🧡🧡🤍🤍🤍 A Kishoutenketsu in the countryside 🧡🧡🧡🤍🤍 A Light Long Gone 🧡🤍🤍🤍🤍 A Lullaby of Colors 🧡🤍🤍🤍🤍 A Magical Tale: Cavern Crawler
Game of the Week:
People think designing video games is hard. It's not hard. Just follow the recipe: A jumps; B shoots.
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A Hole New World is a pastiche of several of the best NES games. It steals from Capcom and Konami's finest, and while it doesn't surpass or even match the classics, it carries over enough of their appeal to earn Game of the Week status.
If twitchy action isn't your speed, look instead to the laid back (but mentally demanding) puzzles of A Good Snowman Is Hard to Build. This week brought two very good games, and five... Well, there were two good games, and I'm calling that a success. Speaking of good games, check out January's Game of the Month awards if you missed it. If you still want more recommendations, Nintendo Switch owners are also advised to check out last week's post and scroll to the bottom for information on which games to scoop up before Qubic's massive $0.49 sale ends later this month.
DISNEY and WALDEN MEDIA Present C. S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe: The Official Game of the Major Motion Picture of the Novel Push By Sapphire, Now Available For Your Nintendo Dual Screen Portable Entertainment System (2005)
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We don't need to get into details right now, but your boy has chronic brain problems and body problems. Some of my symptoms have been flaring, and I'm also on a new prescription that causes severe drowsiness, which is relevant to this video game Tumblog because I just can't keep up with fast-moving, involved games right now.
I have no attachment to Narnia or its Chronicles. Never read a page of any of those books. I remember a couple elementary teachers turning on the old animated movie on days when they needed a break. I think I saw the live-action Disney movie once. If I did, everything about it slipped out of my head the second the credits started rolling. Christian allegories don't do much for me.
But here was a DS game with no cultural impact or legacy, sitting at the oft mention retro store dollar bin alongside My Sims and Gold's Gym: Cardio Fitness. What was I supposed to do? Not buy it? As if.
It is an action RPG. There are wolves and ogre. You kill them. They drop experience points and a couple forms of currency. Level up; buy new equipment. Side quests are the typical "Kill 10 X in Y location" and "Fetch an item" fare. Walking until an enemy is in sight and tapping the A Button until it falls is a suitable strategy in most situations. This is one unremarkable, grind-y genre game with a license I don't care about slapped on top. In other words, it is exactly what I need right now.
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I've played a little almost every day since I started is a few weeks ago. It's my relaxing bedtime game, and a big part of that is that it's always there. I have a 3DS within arms length of my bed, but I've been playing Narnia on a DS Lite. I love my 3DS, but it comes with so many distractions. I'm always one tap of the Home Button away from a dozen downloaded games. That temptation isn't present on the DS Lite. The Narnia cartridge hasn't come out once. I haven't turned off the power. I close the system when I'm done. I open it later, and my game instantly awakens from sleep mode, exactly where I left it. I believe in progress. I'm not against convenience and choice—we are right to strive for more—but I do believe they come at a cost. If I'd downloaded this game on my Switch, I would have dropped it in minutes. I want a little friction. There's value in the old ways, when sticking with a game that didn't immediately hook you was the most convenient option. How many of the DOS games and NES game that I love today would I have bothered learning to play if they hadn't been the only games I had? If I were just selecting ROMs from a menu instead of standing up to shuffle diskettes and cartridges. The future will always be better than the past, as long as the past can still be accessed in the future. And you don't need to play this Narnia game. My point—and perhaps the dominant theme of I Love a Bunch of Games—is that you never know what might be the right game at the right time. Be sensible with your time and money. Know your budget. If you don't like a game, don't punish yourself; just stop playing it. As long as it's within reason, though, take a chance. Contrive an excuse to really try something; to pick a game, not because it appeals to you, or because it's critically acclaimed, or because it had a big marketing push, but simply because it's there. Start a game, and don't put it down until you understand it. They won't all be winners, but stick with it, and some of them will.
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(Just don't go as deep as me. I am seriously eyeing the GameCube version of DISNEY and WALDEN MEDIA Present The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. My GameCube and Wii both have faulty disc drives. I don't have any way to play GameCube discs. But I want it. It was also released on PC, though it's been pulled from digital stores. Piracy seems victimless in this case, but that's not my scene. The sequel, Prince Caspian, is no longer available on Steam or J2ME-compatible cell phones, but it is on DS, and my Wii U could play the Wii release... Hmmm... There might be a bad choice in my future...)
Submerged: Hidden Depths
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Continuing the theme of low-impact games that suit my enfeebled state, I played a fair chunk of Submerged: Hidden Depths this week. If you keep up with the free games available each week on the Epic Game Store, check your library. You might already own it.
Submerged: Hidden Depths is easy to describe. It's one of these...
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...plus a simplified version of The King of Red Lions from The Legend the Zelda: The Wind Waker. It has a motor instead of a wind-dependent sail, but no question, the handling and the treasure hunting mimic Zelda.
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You know how all those Tomb Raider-derived, jump-and-climb-along-conspicuous-jutting-ledges games always feel the need to break up the action with a bit of mass murder? I like shooting dinosaurs and doing flips off of sand zombies, but it always feels like the platforming and the combat are at odd with each other. You're zipping around, finding an acrobatic route across crumbling ruins, and then STOP! It's murder time. S:HD (which I would like to abbreviate to Submerged, but that's the name of the previous game in this series) has no combat. There are no enemies. There are no ragdoll physics at the character when you misjudge a jump and land on neck-breaking jagged rocks, because there is no jump button and no way to step off a suspended platform.
This is the genre stripped down to its barest fundamentals, and it is a fascinating experiment. The routes are always prescribed, anyway. Why do we need a jump button if a level designer has already decided precisely where the jumps should take place? Why not make the characters jump on their own when they approached the spot where jumping must happen?
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The answer isn't surprising: Diminished risk, diminished reward. You don't even need to see a ledge to advance in S:HD. Just bump into it and watch your character do the rest. You can't fall, so aimlessly walking along seeming pits is just as valid a strategy as swiveling the camera around to look for hidden handholds.
There are large islands that must be completed and optional small islands housing additional collectables. My compulsion to get everything has been tested by how useless most of it is: A snippet of backstory. A minor increase in how long the boat's rechargeable speed boost can be used. Unlockable hairdos, outfits, and paint jobs for the boat are the best rewards, and the most demanding—each large island contains nine hidden objects. Get 'em all; unlock one thing. Complete the island when you only have eight, and you're sent back to the central island. Do you want to try to remember which island it was, sail back, and walk through it again while searching for a glint of gold? I don't.
The blockbuster jumpy/climby/kill-a-man games are in no danger of being replaced by the Sumberged series, and I don't even think I'll finish this game, but I appreciate it. It's less an action game and more a casual, hidden object game in an action setting. (A gorgeous action setting.) If you're interested in the thought experiment of what brutally violent games might look like without violence or danger, or you just need a way to keep your eyes and hands busy while listening to podcasts, set sail. Submerged: Hidden Depths might be too shallow to hold my interest (writing game reviews is so easy, you guys), but I'm glad I took a leap of faith and spent a few hours getting lost at sea. It's not just treading water! (So easy.)
#JakeReviewsTwitch is a series of daily game reviews. You can learn more here. You can also browse past reviews…
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avenging-fandoms · 3 years
Note
“Do you think John B can fuck you like this?”
Where rafe gets jealous when the reader spends too much time with John B.
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OUTER BANKS MASTERLIST
--
rafe was a jealous boyfriend, even if he denied it every time you brought it up. he got really defensive and jealous when you hung out with the pogues- especially john b.
since middle school through freshman year of high school, you were 'in love' with john b. you had befriended him, and you two eventually 'dated.' it was middle school, so how serious was it? you two kissed twice and he broke up with you via note during study hall.
rafe thought it was like you two were married and got divorced, and he thought you were still hung up on john b. you met rafe middle of sophomore year, and suddenly you forgot who john b was. ever since then, for 4 years, it's been rafe and only rafe in your eyes.
you still hung with john b, he was a big part of your life. he was around for big changes in your life even after he broke your heart for a week in middle school.
you and john b laid out on your towels in the beach, soaking up the sun after surfing for hours. "so.. how's rafe?"
"he's rafe. but i love him. how's your love life?" you smile and roll on your stomach, cheek on your arm as you look at your best friend.
"i don't have one. haven't had interest in anyone since isabella"
"oh yeah! isn't she the one with the dad who threatened to rip your.. thing off?" you both laugh and you check your phone, sitting up and stretching. "i have dinner with rafe in 2 hours so i'm gonna head home and get ready. see you tomorrow?" you did your special handshake with john b and he nods, waving to you as you head inside. you text rafe you were all done at john b's and he texted he was on his way.
you put on your shorts and one of rafe's button ups but left it open, smiling as you saw rafe's car pull into the driveway. you shouted your goodbye to john b again before jumping into rafe's car. "hi baby" you smile and lean over, rafe holding your face and kissing you slowly. "oh.. hello" you whisper and bit your lip, rafe smiling.
rafe drove off and kept his hand on the stick shift, drumming his fingers on the leather. "so.. did you have fun with john b?" he asked, his tone cold. you smirk under your hand and shrug.
"yeah, we went surfing for a bit, had some really nasty beach sex then just sunbathed for a bit" you thought rafe broke his neck with the speed his head spun to face you. you burst out laughing and rafe shakes his head, spitting his toothpick out the window.
"you think that's funny? ah, alright" rafe adjusted his hips and slouched a bit, leaning his chin on his fingers as he drove with his right hand, never looking at you until he got to your house.
"oh rafe, come onnn i was kidding!" you touch his elbow but he just ignores you, and you bit the inside of your cheek as you stared out at the buildings until you were in your driveway. "i'm not getting out of this car until you look at me, rafe" you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn your body to him, rafe's finger rubbing over his lip and pointing to your house.
"your parents home?" he asked and you shook your head.
"no, they're on that work trip until friday" you answer and rafe smirks, getting out of the car after shutting it off. he came to your door and opens it, throwing you over his shoulder and you grab your bag. "rafe! rafe what the fuck!" you laugh and let yourself dangle, smacking his butt playfully. "okay, so you won't look at me but you'll kidnap me? makes sense"
rafe went inside and took you to your bedroom, his hand spanking you a few times and you kicked your foot up as his rings stung your skin. you drop your bag and he put you on the bed, holding your face and squishing your cheeks together as he smirked down at you. "we'll see how funny you think you are after i make you unable to sit for weeks"
you gulped and rafe sat down on the edge of your bed, pulling your shorts and bikini bottoms off. he bent you over his knee and massaged your ass in his hand, striking down and you yelp as his ring hurt. rafe purposely moved his rings onto his right hand as he spanked you so there was more when he spanked you.
you let out whimpers and moans, apologizing to rafe over and over. "rafe, please, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry" you gasp and he sits you up, smiling and placing his fingers under your chin. "i'm sorry" you whisper and close your eyes as he kisses your chest, and you went to take off his shirt but he stopped you.
"keep it on. when i take it back, i want to look at it and remember fucking you" he mumbled against your skin and pulled your bikini top string, sliding it over your head. rafe put you on the bed on your stomach, kissing each red cheek and running his finger over the welts from his rings, making you hiss. rafe smirks in victory, biting down softly.
"fuck, rafe" you whisper as it hurt, but also felt good. rafe undid his belt and pulled his pants down, and you spun around, rafe tapping his cock against your mouth. he gripped your hair and you pushed your head down, rafe moving your head for you and thrusting into your mouth slowly.
"yeah, take it.. take it all. good girl, mm" rafe smiled as you gag, pulling you away. rafe collected the spit from around your mouth and stroked his cock, pushing you back to the bed. he pulled your hips up, pushing his tip into you and you whimper as he squeezes your tender ass. rafe didn't start with slow thrusts, he fully went into rough thrusts and dirty words.
your fingers gripped the bed sheets and you moaned, rafe bunching your shirt in his fist as he continued to pound into you. "do you think john b can fuck you like this? have you moaning and screaming? come on, sweetheart, let him know who fucks you this good" rafe held your hair and you whimpered, moaning rafes name over and over again. "good girl, tell everyone who fucks this pretty pussy this good"
"yes, fuck rafe, you do. fucking hell" you push your hips back against him and spin onto your back, grabbing his face and kissing him sloppily as he thrusts into you again. "you, rafe, only you. always. i love you" he pressed his forehead against yours, eyes fixated on yours with his fists next to your body on either side.
"i love you baby" rafe mumbled against your mouth, and your fingers gripped his hair, both of your legs over his shoulder as he bites your calf, repeatedly hitting your spot. "fuck i love you, cum all over me, i can feel you close. cum all over my cock"
rafe's thrusts were rough and fast as he brought you to an orgasm, and his cum spilled on your stomach. you hum and stroke him softly, pumping him cleaning. you smile as you scooped some on your fingers, licking them clean. "you are so sexy, baby" rafe whispered and kissed your thigh. "can i send a picture of you covered in my cum to john b?"
"ew! no! you can take one just never send it to anyone" rafe's eyes lit up and he took out his phone, taking a picture and you laugh. rafe got a wet wash cloth and cleaned you off, and you headed to the bathroom.
you whimpered as you sit on the toilet, and rafe fixed himself in your mirror. you head back into your room and sit on the bed slowly, hissing as your ass softly grazed the sheets and you rolled onto your stomach. "what's up, do you need help?"
"can you just put ice on my butt or something, it really hurts" you pout and rafe smirks. "it's not funny!"
"ah, so mission accomplished, hm?" he winked and kissed you, going downstairs and grabbing ice. he grabbed some vaseline as well, heading back upstairs. rafe pressed the ice against your ass for a couple of minutes, then put on vaseline and you hum.
"you're right" you sigh and he looks at you. "it wasn't funny, i've learned my lesson" you look up at rafe and he bites his lip softly, kissing your head. "can we just stay here for dinner? i don't think i can sit down and eat anywhere. he can order pizza and hang in the pool so i don't have to sit"
"sure, can you put on bikini bottoms or will it hurt?" he asked and you looked at him with a smile.
"skinny dip?" you smirk and his eyes lit up again, making you laugh and he held your face, kissing you. "rafe" you both laid on your sides and you rubbed your thumb over his cheek. "i'll always come back to you, rafe. i love you, and only you"
you and rafe spent the rest of the night in the pool, having rounds 2 and 3 in the pool and hot tub, eating the pizza and listening to music, just enjoying one another.
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sluttywonwoo · 3 years
Text
desperate || c.sc x reader
Summary: the first time seungcheol fucks you raw (sponsored by irresponsible decisions)
Warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )
Masterlist
additional warnings: oral (m receiving), choking, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (bathroom), creampies
“Baby,” Seungcheol groaned against your neck in an attempt to get your attention, but if you’d heard him you were choosing to ignore him as you continued to grind down onto his lap with your head buried in his shoulder. “Baby,” he tried again, “I don’t have a condom.”
He was still desperately rifling through his wallet with one hand and digging through the pockets in his jeans with the other in the hollow hope that maybe he’d find one.
He always carried condoms with him, he had since before you had started dating. How the hell was he missing one now- then it dawned on him. Last month, at that bar back in London when you had been wearing nothing under your tight black skirt and he just had to have you… god damn it, Cheol, he thought to himself. He had used the last one then, when he fucked you in the bathroom that night. But now you were the needy one and he couldn’t even take the edge off for you.
Despite the circumstances at hand, Seungcheol’s body was reacting accordingly to your actions. His cock was straining against his jeans and he was almost positive you could feel his erection against your thigh. And if your moans were any indication, he was right.
He sighed into your shoulder, and used his hands to still your hips. Your bottom lip jutted out in a pout momentarily before you began pressing languid kisses to his neck, sucking hickeys right underneath his jaw.
“Y/n, I-I don’t have a condom,” Seungcheol stuttered out again and pushed on your shoulders to make sure you heard him this time.
“I don’t care,” you whined, slumping forward onto your boyfriend in defeat. “I want you so bad.”
“I know, darling,” he said in a hushed whisper, trying to ignore the way your hips were still rocking instinctively on top of his.
If you were at home it wouldn’t be such a big deal. Seungcheol could just pop out to the shops and be back within the hour with enough condoms to go as many rounds as you wanted. But you were all the way in Monaco at the F1 Grand Prix- it wasn’t like you could just come and go as you pleased, once your ticket was scanned at the beginning of the day you were stuck there because the no re-entry policy was strictly enforced at all exits. You’d learned that the hard way on the first day.
When asked later, your friends would claim not to know where you and Seungcheol had run off to. But everyone knew. You were a bit infamous for bathroom quickies, hence that night at the bar last month, and you had been before Cheol was in the picture. Bars, restaurants, movie theaters, clubs, and department stores were all fair game to you. Today was no different. Seungcheol was sitting on the counter with his back pressed against the mirror in one of the racetrack’s tiny, one-person facilities and you were straddling his lap.
Everything had been going routinely when Seungcheol broke the news and you felt your heart (or rather, your pussy) shatter into a million pieces. He just looked so goddamn good in that pink shirt with his hair slicked back like that… fuck. And the way he’d been acting this weekend, so casually confident with his friends and the racers, it brought out something primal in you.
“You want my fingers?” Seungcheol offered, holding up the middle and ring fingers on his left hand.
You shook your head. “Just want you.”
He chuckled lightly and brushed your hair out of your eyes. You knew you were being a brat, but you were too desperate to care.
“I know, but I already told you-”
“I don’t care that you don’t have a condom,” you sighed. “Just go without.”
Seungcheol blinked at you in surprise. “Wha- are you sure?”
In all the time that you had been dating, you and Seungcheol had never had sex without protection. It wasn’t that you were opposed to the idea, you were on the pill, but you had always been overly cautious and you and Seungcheol had never really… talked about it before.
“Y/n?” You had fallen silent.
“Hm?”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
You could only nod at first before you could verbalize.
“I need to hear you say it,” he murmured, voice an octave lower than it had been a second ago.
“I’m sure,” you managed, “please, Cheol.”
He smirked, biting his lip. “Of course, baby.”
You pushed yourself off of him and watched as he unfastened his belt. Your mouth watered as he pulled at the button and zipper on his jeans and you thought for a brief moment about how pathetic you were.
But as soon as Seuncheol had freed himself from his pants you found yourself not caring anymore. The humiliation burning in your cheeks melted back into want and you felt the temperature in your whole body rise a degree or two.
Seungcheol pushed his jeans down to where they sat bunched around his thighs and looked at you expectantly.
“Ready, angel?” he asked, dark eyes giving you a onceover.
It wasn’t often that you were the one fully clothed and Seungcheol was the one exposed to you, but on the rare occasion it did happen you liked to take advantage of it.
“Wait, can I?” Your gaze fell to his lap and he cursed.
“Always.”
You smiled and licked your lips as you bent over to take him into your mouth. Seungcheol wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but his cock was still able to hit the back of your throat, which you loved. You suppressed your gag reflex as best you could while you sucked him off, feeling the arousal simmering in your stomach multiply tenfold just because of how full your mouth was. He brought a fist to his lips and bit down on his hand to stifle his moans, tangling his other hand in your hair.
He twirled your hair around his fingers into a makeshift ponytail and tugged gently. You moaned around his cock and took him even deeper so that the tip of your nose was pressed against his pelvis.
“God, y/n,” Seungcheol groaned, bucking his hips upwards into your mouth. “Sorry,” he grunted.
“S’okay,” you said with a smile, still somehow managing to keep your pace.
“So desperate for my cock, you’d take it any way you can get it, huh?”
You whined in response and nodded your head. You heard him laugh, then choke when you pulled off of him. He scowled at you as you licked a stripe from the base of his cock, along the vein, to the head, before taking him fully in your mouth again, making him throw his head back in pleasure.
“Stop, stop, I’m close,” he warned and pulled you off his cock by your hair.
If you weren’t so intent on having him inside you you would’ve finished him off there. He looked so hot like that- jaw clenched with restraint, stomach taught and firm, even under his shirt. And the way he looked down at you while you sucked his dick, fuck.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and leaned in to kiss your boyfriend on the lips. He met you halfway and pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. The taste of champagne lingered on his lips.
“C’mon, baby,” Seungcheol grunted and motioned for you to climb on top of him.
You did just that and hiked your skirt higher up on your thighs, pushing your panties to the side so that he could have easy access to you.
You reached for him and used your knees to brace yourself on the counter before he held out a hand to stop you.
“Wait,” he said breathlessly, “let me taste you first.”
You watched as reached a hand under your skirt and used two of his fingers to collect your arousal before bringing them to his lips and sucking it off. When he was satisfied with his work he offered the same two fingers to you.
“Open,” he instructed.
You sucked his fingers into your mouth as he’d asked and moaned around them, which might have been a little over the top, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Seungcheol retracted his fingers after a couple seconds and kissed you again, cupping your face with both of his hands. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, groaning when you whimpered. You could taste yourselves on each other’s lips, but as you continued to make out they became indiscernible, a mix of both of you. All you knew was that you couldn’t get enough.
Seungcheol struggled to pop the first few buttons on your shirt, but eventually got the hang of it, and unbuttoned the rest with ease, exposing your chest to the cold air.
“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of your tits,” he whispered, mostly to himself.
You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder lightly. “Cheol, stop teasing me,” you begged.
Your entire body ached. You were clenching around nothing at this point and it was torture. You needed something inside of you right that minute and if Seungcheol wouldn’t give it to you your own fingers would have to suffice.
“I’m not teasing you,” he insisted earnestly.
“Then fuck me already!”
He smirked for what felt like the millionth time and raised an eyebrow.
“You’re going to have to keep your voice down if you don’t want us to get caught, darling. Do you think you can do that?”
You nodded fervently, knowing it was a boldfaced lie. Seungcheol knew it too- you had literally just been yelling at him to fuck you seconds earlier, but you were already this far and he’d made you wait so long already.
“C’mere,” he said lowly and put a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer. “Spit,” he commanded and held out his hand for you. You spat into his palm and watched as he used his hand to pump his cock a couple of times, ensuring that it was lubricated enough for you to take comfortably.
He then lined himself up with you and held back a groan as you sank down onto his cock. You sighed in relief at the feeling and wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. You stayed there like that for a minute or so, not moving, just enjoying how full you felt.
Seungchel always felt good inside of you, but like this… without discomfort of the condom, without the resistance of the rubber or the texture of the latex, without anything in between you… it was indescribable. You could feel every vein, every curve of Cheol’s cock. You could feel his pulse in your pussy and the sensation was enough to make you forget how to speak.
“G-god,” you gasped.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Seungcheol muttered through clenched teeth.
“Feels so good,” you mumbled.
Seungcheol managed a smile and brushed your hair out of your face. His smile faltered when you began to ride him without warning and he choked out your name along with a string of profanities.
You rocked your hips forward to meet Cheol’s over and over again, moaning quietly every time the head of his cock brushed your g-spot. It wasn’t long before Seungcheol was doing most of the work, slamming into you like his life depended on it. It was actually impressive, how hard he was fucking you in the position he was in. He was sitting upright with all of your weight on top of him and was still railing you like it was nothing.
“Is this what you wanted?” Seungcheol asked, voice low and gravelly. “For me to fuck you like a slut?” You could only nod. “Answer me,” he demanded. “Are you such a desperate fucking cockslut that you couldn’t wait a few more hours like a good girl?”
“Yes!” you cried.
Seungcheol brought a hand to your throat and wrapped his fingers around it, rubbing his thumb along your pulsepoint. He squeezed lightly, smiling darkly when your eyes rolled back in pleasure.
“Do you think you deserve to cum?” he asked, knowing you were close.
“Yes,” you whimpered.
“Do you think you can be quiet?”
“Yes. Please, Cheol-”
“Please what?”
“Please can I cum? I-I need to cum, fuck!”
You fell over the edge before your boyfriend could respond, not even allowing him the chance to get a word in before your entire body was overcome by waves of pleasure. Your vision went white as you rode out your orgasm and Seungcheol held onto you tightly the whole time, whispering praises in your ear as you came down even though you knew you were in for it later.
Your thighs were still trembling when the aftershocks had finally subsided and you gave Seungcheol a sheepish smile.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, baby,” he assured you. “I made you wait long enough.”
“You were teasing me! I knew it!”
He kissed you chastely on the lips and winked. “Couldn’t resist. You’re so fucking hot when you’re desperate.”
“Fuck you.”
“You already did.”
“And if I remember correctly, you haven’t come yet. I could always leave you hanging-”
“No! No, I’m sorry,” he apologized hastily.
You laughed and pushed his curls out of his face as you began to ride him again, ignoring your own arousal still burning in your stomach. Seungcheol cursed, letting you know that he was right there on the edge.
“Where do you want me to cum? Your mouth? Your chest?” You didn’t answer and leaned down to kiss his neck instead. “Baby, I can’t,” he rasped, “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.”
“I want you to,” you whispered.
“What?”
“I want you to cum inside me, Cheol. Want you to fill me up-” your pleas were cut off with a moan as Seungcheol came and you felt him tense underneath you as spurt after spurt of cum filled your cunt. If you thought you had felt full before-
You threw your head back at the feeling and helped your boyfriend ride out his high. It wasn’t enough to make you cum a second time, but the way his cock throbbed inside of you, the way he clenched his jaw and bit his lip as he came… it certainly… sparked something within you.
Seungcheol was out of breath by the time he could open his eyes again and when he did he smiled at you from underneath messy hair and hooded eyelids, completely blissed out. He pulled out of you slowly, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the counter.
He turned around and snatched a few paper towels from the dispenser on the opposite wall and handed half the stack to you while he used the other half to wipe down the counter.
“What a gentleman,” you said sarcastically as you used the towels to clean yourself off. You knew when you stood up there would likely be more dripping down your legs, and that was if you could stand, but you would have to cross that bridge when you got to it.
“And they say romance is dead,” he quipped back cheekily, holding his hand out for your half of the used paper towels.
“Can’t imagine why.”
You watched from the counter as he threw them away and washed his hands. He pulled a couple more paper towels from the dispenser and wet them in the sink before making his way back over to you and just tossing them between your open legs.
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nctsworld · 3 years
Text
two nights, one you
✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 
SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 
AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 
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⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!
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Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.
Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.
Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    
Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.
Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  
It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.
You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.
But then, you land on him.
One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.
Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.
The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:
“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”
You swipe right without hesitation.
“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  
Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  
Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  
so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?
Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:
-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)
He’s quick to send his address.
-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!
Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:
tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛
-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛
Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.
“Hi,” you chirp.
A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  
Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  
“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  
“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.
Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.
“So, this is my place...”
Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.
Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”
“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”
He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”
Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.
“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”
A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”
“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”
Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  
“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”
“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”
You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.
Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  
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So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  
Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.
But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.
And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.
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In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.
Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.
The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.
“Morning. You’re finally up.”
Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  
“Out you go.”
You blink.
Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.
After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  
Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.
You definitely heard him right.
And he’s dead-serious.
You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—
Realization dawns on you.
Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?
Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  
“What the fuck?!” you screech.
“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”
“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  
“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”
“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”
“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”
Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.
“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  
“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  
He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”
Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—
“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”
You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.
Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.
“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”
“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”
With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.
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Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.
“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”
As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.
“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”
He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”
With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.
“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”
The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”
Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.
Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.
Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.
“Well, shit.”  
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Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.
Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.
At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.
As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.
After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.
“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.
“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.
“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.
“No, you.”
You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.
“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”
He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.
“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”
His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.
“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.
Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.
“Fine.”
He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  
One minute, to be exact.
You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.
“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”
Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”
“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.
“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”
One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”
“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”
He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”
Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”
“Do you plead the fifth then?”
Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.
You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”
“Bigger or smaller than average?”
“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.
He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”
You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”
Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.
“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”
Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”
“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.
“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.
Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.
“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”
“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”
“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.
“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”
So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.
No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.
“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”
There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.
Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”
Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”
Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.
“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”
As if you had anywhere else to go...  
He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”
“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  
“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  
“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.
The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.
Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.
You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.
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During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.
Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.
You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.
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By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.
“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.
“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.
“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”
You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”
That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”
You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”
“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  
You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.
Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”
And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.
“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.
“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.
Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.
“And what’s so wrong with that?”
Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  
“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”
Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  
“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”
Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.
“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”
“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”
“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.
He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”
Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.
Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?
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Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  
So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.
“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”
Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.
“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.
“I do not! I just—nooo!”
You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.
Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    
“What?” you eye him suspiciously.
Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.
“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”
Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  
Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.
“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”
Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.
Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.
You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.
You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.
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On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.
From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  
“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”
A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”
“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.
You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  
You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  
Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?
“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”
“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.
“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”
Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”
He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”
“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  
He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.
“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”
With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.
“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.
“Non-existent.”
“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”
You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.
“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”
You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”
“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”
Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.
“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  
Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”
Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”
You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”
“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”
He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”
“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”
“I’m premed, of course I—”
“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”
You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”
“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.
You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”
“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”
Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”
“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”
With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.
“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”
When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  
After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”
You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”
The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.
Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”
“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”
“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  
You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.
“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.
“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”
You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.
“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.
“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”
“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”
“Don’t be scared to touch me.”
“I touched you so much during—”
He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.
“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”
The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”
Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.
“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”
“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  
“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”
“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”
He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”
“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”
“Try to make you come in other ways?”
Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”
“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”
A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  
“Why don’t we try it again?”
Perplexed, you squint at him.
“Try what again...?”
“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.
You blankly stare at him.
“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.
“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 
You continue to stare at him until you groan.
“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”
Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”
“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.
“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  
Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  
God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  
“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”
“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”
You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.
“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.
They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.
“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”
“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”
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“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”
On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.
“Is Chenle your roommate?”
“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”
With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”
Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.
The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.
You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.
The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  
His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.
He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.
Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.
The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.
Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    
After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”
“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.
He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.
Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.
Jaemin ensures he doesn���t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.
In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  
On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.
Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.
“I’m ticklish over there.”
“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”
With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.
“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”
When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.
The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.
He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.
Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.
You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.
Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.
Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  
“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.
“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”
Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.
“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.
Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.
Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.
“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”
He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.
“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”
You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”
His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.
Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.
But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.
You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.
Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  
You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.
Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.
A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  
“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.
He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”
You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.
“Use your words, Jaemin.”
Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.
“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”
“Anything to critique?”
“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.
“Am I still rusty?”
“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”
“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.
“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    
Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.
You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  
Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.
“There, there—“
Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  
“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.
You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.
“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”
“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”
Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.
“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.
You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.
“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”
Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.
“Fuck, holy shit.”
His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.
The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  
You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”
And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  
“I’m-I’m—”
You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.
Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.
“Was that real?”
You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  
With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.
“Ready for the last round?”
His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    
Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.
As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.
Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.
“Told you we weren’t going to die.”
You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.
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By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.
But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.
In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.
During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  
“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.
He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.
“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  
“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.
Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  
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After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  
“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”
You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.
“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”
A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”
After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.
“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.
“Do you...?”
Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  
And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.
Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.
“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”
“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”
“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.
Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”
His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”
You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.
“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”
Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  
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Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.
Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.
He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.
The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.
The date he asked you out on.
You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.
Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.
Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.
But that’s not what you’re focusing on.
Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.
It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.
A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.
Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.
But to cheat?
That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.
You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.
With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.
He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  
He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.
“Wait! I can explain!”
You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.
“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”
“No, listen to me for a second.”
The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.
“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”
“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”
Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.
“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”
Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  
“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”
You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”
He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.
“She cheated on me.”
The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  
But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  
Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”
Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.
“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”
He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.
“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”
You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 
“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”
He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.
“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”
His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.
“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
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Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.
It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.
“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.
Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  
Because you choose to be.
Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  
Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.
What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?
The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.
The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  
Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.
Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.
And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  
You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.
As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.
And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  
Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.
Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  
A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.
The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.
“And who might you be?” he asks.
“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.
You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”
“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.
“What are you doing h—”
You cut him off with a kiss.
An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  
Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”
“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  
He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”
“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”
Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.
“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”
He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.
“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.
Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.
“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.
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Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.
With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.
“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”
You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”
He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.
“Maybe I didn’t.”
“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.
“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    
You sharply turn your head.
“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  
A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.
“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”
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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years
Text
At the End of the Day
Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader/Non-Binary Tentacle Monster (It/It’s pronouns used)
Genre: Fluff, First Times, Comfort
Warnings: Explicit Content up ahead (18+ only!), Tentacles, Slight mention of Aphrodisiacs
Word Count: 2904 Words
Summary: After an exhausting day at work, you find some unexpected comfort from under your bed
Request :Omg I love your Forest Fun fic💕 Could I req a NSFW with a tentacle monster, monster under your bed? I was thinking of a lonely reader, meeting their under the bed mate one night where they were hang their hand off the bed, hoping for a monster to hold it and love them, AND IT DOES! Tysm I love your writing!!!
You officially concluded it was a bad day when you collapsed on your bed at 12 AM, too tired to sleep and too dehydrated to cry your feelings out.
You had been on your feet for nine hours, been screamed at for three, and had barely had time to heat up a cup of ramen noodles before almost passing out from exhaustion. Not even the comfort of a screen could help, having forgotten to record the newest episode of your favorite show and having left your phone charger at home all day.
All in all, you 're having a bad time.
You sluggishly pull up your blankets, only in your underwear because putting on pajamas was too much work, and are left to look at your ceiling.
The bed is cold, not yet warmed by your body heat, and the sheets feel a little itchy. You groan, wondering if one thing, one thing, could go right today.
It’d be nice if you had someone to cuddle. Maybe a pillow would suffice, but it’s the thought of someone’s soft touch, playing with your hair, the sound of their heartbeat against your ear. Someone to massage out the stress from your back and shoulders, and remind you that everything would be alright; Whispering promises of a better tomorrow.
But that doesn’t just happen overnight.
You throw your hands over your face, groaning into your palms as you beg your mind to just let you sleep. Dragging your fingers down your cheeks, you let out a pitiful whine before you flip over to your stomach and try to find comfort that way.
You stuff your face into your pillow, one hand dangling off the side of your bed, fingers just barely brushing the carpet. You trace patterns into the fabric, wondering how nice it would feel to be wrapped in something that warm and cozy. Something big enough to envelope you whole, pinning you to the bed. Something with nice warm hands to fill yours, that will pet the back of knuckles and kiss them goodnight. Something that would travel up your wrist, hot and sensual, leaving a trail of warm ooze that-
Wait.
What the fuck.
Your hand jerks upwards, the liquid now running down your forearm glistening. You pull your face out your pillow and throw yourself to the other side of the bed, eyes racing back and forth across your room.
It’s the same as before, only moon light shining through your window and the low hum of your fan accompanying it. You take another look at your hand, streaks of slime dribbling down the sides. It’s warm, the consistency of aloe vera, and sort of smells like...vanilla?
With your heart pounding, you slowly inch over to the side of your bed, not daring to look too far over, too afraid of what you might see.
You fly backwards when the tip of something black and shiny comes up and over your sheets, tentatively tapping the side. It looks like it’s feeling around for something.
Was it looking for you?
You freeze as the tentacle reaches farther and farther up the sheets, thrashing around as you avoid it’s touch, until another one joins it in the search. You don’t move an inch, fearing any shifting of the blankets would alert the creature to your presence.
The tentacles reach about half-way across the bed, almost brushing against your toes, when they freeze. You hold a breath and watch them slowly slink back underneath, wondering if now is the time to lose your shit.
A pair of eyes-wait, no, two pairs of eyes peer up from the side, glowing yellow in the dark. Their pupils expand as they take in the darkness, darting around until they see you, curled up against the corner of your headboard.
There’s a soft churring noise, like the startup of a vacuum or the sound of birds singing. A tiny tentacle comes up, sheepishly tapping the sheets as the creature stares at you.
“....Alright?” It murmurs. It’s voice is scratchy, like it’s trying to make sounds it never has before.
“What?” Your mouth, barely making a whisper. The tentacle points to your hand, still covered in ooze.
“Smelled...sad.” The creature sniffs, slightly raising it’s head so you can see the bottom half of its face. It resembled that of a human, but the mouth extended all the way back to it’s jaw, hinged like a snake. You can see several rows of sharp teeth and the purplish tongue that comes out and wets it’s...lips? “Thought….I could help.” The tentacle draws a circle into your bed covers, the creature's eyes darting away as it’s skin flushes an even darker black; Indigos and deep violets highlight the contours of it’s face. “Don’t like it...when you are sad….”
You think you’ve lost your chance to have a breakdown, your mind already switching to numb out the wave of realizations you are going through right now. All you can focus on are the bashful look on the creature's face, the way it’s tentacles nervously tuts back and forth, and how warm your hand felt in its embrace. How nice it felt.
“Oh, uh, thank you.” You mutter, finally able to make proper words. “I appreciate it.” You unconsciously rub your thumb over the palm of your slick hand, noting how hot it still is, how it relaxes your muzzles like a warm bath.
The creature just nods, resting it’s chin on the bed.
“Feeling...better?”
You shrug. “Uh...a little bit. A good hand-hold is always nice.”
At that, the creature perks up, and you can see some more tentacles come up the bedside. They beckon you to come closer, massaging the mattress and somehow leaving no trails of their slime. The creature swallows, rubbing the back of its neck.
“...Could make you feel….really good….If you...want.”
Your eyebrow quirks, the cogs of your brain working extra slow tonight. But the way the creature flushes, the way it’s tentacles writhe so sensually, you soon start to get the picture.
A logical person might have said no. Might’ve screamed, thrown on the light, and barricaded their bedroom. Probably called the authorities, or animal control.  
But isn’t this what you’d been asking for? And they were sweet enough to pick you up when you were down. Even asked for your permission afterwards, and made a conscious effort to not make a total mess of your bed.
Maybe it’ was the nine hours of pure hell, maybe it’s the fact it’s the most physical contact you’ve had in months, but there’s a part of you that really wants to say yes.
And it’s probably the sleep deprivation that makes you actually do it.
“Yeah. I-I think I would like that.” You slowly unfurl yourself, the creature's face lighting up as you slowly crawl over to it. It’s tentacles thrash around unabashedly, some too eager to even wait for you to get closer, tickling the tops of your knees and nipping at your fingers. You giggle as one finds a ticklish spot. “What’s your name?” You whisper, falling into the soft touches of it’s tentacles as you get closer and closer to the creature’s face. It’s still flushed purple, it’s eyes racing over your body.
“Ghitir.” It croaks, taking a deep breath as your oversized night shirt slips down your shoulder, exposing your skin to it’s greedy eyes. It’s flattering, how much it wants you.
You pull down your collar even more, letting it fall past your collarbone and show just a peak of your chest. A tentacle has begun crawling up your leg, the thick ooze leaving a warm trail along the outside of your thigh, and you gently grab it. Ghitir shudders as you stroke your thumb over the tentacle, feeling the way it’s muscles push against your palm.
It’s hot breath brushes across your face as you look into its four eyes, not realizing how close you had gotten to it. Your eyes fall it’s mouth, where it’s long tongue darts out for a second.
“My name’s _____.” You punctuate the sentence with a kiss, one which Ghitir reciprocated hungrily. It’s tongue along your lips before darting into your mouth, your hands running up the back of its neck as you sink deeper into the feeling.
The tentacles have grown bolder, several now pushing past the bottoms of your pajama shorts and others going under your shirt. One slides up the center of your chest, it’s tip barely touching your nipples as the others run along your pelvis. You can feel slime drip down your behind as several caress your ass, pulling the fabric of your shorts higher and higher as they squeeze. The liquid has gotten even hotter, making your skin buzz and tingle.
All the sensations come together in a perfect tidal wave, so much so that even the rubbing of your pajamas against your crotch has you keeling into Ghitir, thrusting your hips against your mattress. Ghitir churrs, pulling it’s tongue out of your mouth to lather your jaw and neck in kisses. There’s a slight sting as you feel claws dig into your lower back, your hazy eyes glancing downwards to see Ghitir’s four, vaguely humanoid-arms, push you closer to it’s body. It pants and yanks on the shirt fabric, urging you to take it off. You do so in one quick motion, but before you let Ghitir lunge for another kiss, you yank it’s shoulders upwards and onto your bed, revealing all of its body to you.
It’s torso and arms connect to a mass of rolling tentacles, big and small, all of which latch onto you as you fall back onto the bed. Some squirm under your waistband, pushing your shorts and underwear past your crotch and down to your thighs. You shimmy your legs and kick them off your ankles, a shiver running down your spine as cold muscle presses up against your sex. Ghitir leans down into the crook of your neck, exhaling hot breath as it’s cold skin presses into your chest. Your nipples pebble and you run your hands down it’s back, nails digging into it’s clenched muscles.
Ghitir’s tentacles rub your crotch, undulating while one slinks down to your entrance. Beads of liquid smear off of it and into your skin, it’s tip just ghosting over your hole. The knot in your stomach burns hotter, your crotch thrusting upwards, trying to catch that fleeting sensation. But Ghitir is focused on covering your neck and shoulders in sloppy kisses. Sweat drops down your neck and it licks up toward your jaw, shuddering a groan from the taste.
Your head is hazy and your eyes have a hard time focusing, but you're able to feel your way to a tentacle, grabbing it by the thickest part and rubbing your thumb up it’s side. Ghitir lurches forward, it’s tongue lolling out with a shaky squeal. The tentacle teasing your entrance seizes, pressing up against the sensitive skin but not quite pushing through. You move your hand farther up the tentacle, squeezing intermittently before you reach the tip. You brush the pad of your index finger over it and a drop of slime drips down your wrist. One pair of Ghitir’s hands has moved down to your hips, it’s claws slightly pinching your skin as you press your finger down on it’s tip. It bites back a groan, rolling it’s lower half into the bed when you lick a stripe up the tentacle. It’s slime isn’t salty like human sweat, but sweet, almost like nectar.
You press your abdomen upwards, pressing kisses against the tentacle, your other hand grabbing another and half-hazardly jerking it up and down. Drool is dripping down Ghitir’s face, it’s eye’s locked onto you. You wink, erotically sticking your tongue out as you lick up, and up, and up, until just the tip rests on your bottom lip. With a tentative lick, you open your mouth wide and suck down the tentacle like a lollipop.
Ghitir’s forehead falls against yours. It’s tentacles convulse as you suck in your cheeks and move your head up and down, the tentacle in your mouth slowly stirring to action. It massages your tongue, shyly moving further and further into your mouth. Drool and Ghitir’s slime drips down your jaw as you let it slacken, the tentacle quickly hitting the back of your throat. The tip presses against your gag reflex, pulling back quickly once it hears you choke. But you give Ghitir a thumbs up, keeping a tight suction around the tentacle as it gently begins to face fuck you.
You can feel Ghitir’s hand’s shaking as it pounds your mouth, releasing more and more slime as it shudders inside your lips. You stop moving your head, letting Ghitir thrust into your mouth at it’s own pace, and reach forward and feel around for the tentacle pressed against your crotch. Your vision is dotted with black spots, but you eventually find the tip pressed so close to your entrance, pulling and urging it forward. Your eye’s shift toward Ghitir, it’s face locked onto the way you take it’s tentacle in your mouth. It’s tongue is hanging out of it’s mouth, cheeks nearly glowing with it’s bright blush, but it’s coherent enough to understand what you want.
The tentacle slithers out of your hand and presses against your soaked hole, dripping with it’s slime and your sweat. The tip finally pushes past your entrance and you can feel your eyes roll backwards as it stretches you open.
The tentacle is slightly smaller than the one in your mouth and although the pressure is relieving, it still leaves you wanting more. You jerk your hips forward, asking for it to punish your hole like it’s punishing your mouth. Ghitir nods, one of it’s hands stroking the side of your jaw as another tentacle slips inside of you, twisting with it’s twin and pressing against your walls. You moan once more, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. The sensations are overwhelming, deliciously overwhelming.
The tentacles inside your curl around each other, searching for that sensitive spot inside you. The tentacle in your mouth starts to thrust erratically, more and more slime coating the back of your throat as it begins to spasm. You clamp your lips around the base, coating it in your saliva as it nears it’s climax.
Your legs feel shaky and buzzed, your movements uncoordinated as you focus on breathing and chasing your own orgasm,The pair of Ghitir’s hands on your hips help your lower half hump against its tentacles. With a yelp and quick jolt of your body, Ghitir realizes it’s finally found the perfect spot, the one that has your toes curling and your eyes rolling backwards. The tentacle in your mouth slows down, edging itself on your tongue and your lips, but the tentacles down below pick up the pace. They pull out until only their intertwined tips remain, right before surging back inside you.
Your bed springs squeak as Ghitir continues to pound you into the mattress, it’s free pair of hands roaming and groping all unattended parts of your body as you throw your hips upward with every thrust. It pinches your nipples and lays wet kisses all down your collarbone, your chest coated in slime, saliva, and sweat. The tentacle continues to just rub itself all over the inside of your mouth, shaking as it teases itself nice and slow. Tears drip down your face as you feel the rubber band snapping, the fire in your belly about to combust. You moan around the tentacle, gurgling a couple of “Yes, yes, yes!”
Ghitir purrs as your body begins to seizing up, it’s claws digging into your pelvis as the tentacles pick up their speed. The tentacle in your mouth retracts, gushes saliva and slime falling out of your mouth. But Ghitir quickly replaces it with its tongue, petting the side of your face as you make out.
There, there, there, right there, right there- The moan you let out is almost a scream, punctuated by a strong “Oh fuck!” as hot streams of Ghitir’s cum flood your insides. The smaller tentacle spasms, squirting it’s juices all over your sweaty chest as Ghitir bites its lip with a groan. You can feel your body slacken, your chest heaving as you collapse into your sheets, leaving only tiny kisses against Ghitir’s lips. It follows you as your head sinks into your pillow, finally pulling away to let you catch your breath.
Ghitir rests its forehead against the center of your chest, its tentacles slowly slithering out of you, dripping slime all over your bed. Its chest is still alight with a purple blush, their body shaking from all of the exertion.
You find yourself stroking the side of their face, mind still fuzzy as you trace the contours of their cheekbones and enjoy the unusual texture of it’s skin. Ghitir’s four eyes peak open, just as delirious as you are.
“Thanks.” You suck in a deep breath, “That was...amazing.”
It smiles, nuzzling its cheek into your stomach, a small purr rumbling through you.
“No...problem..”
Ghitir’s tentacles lay sprawled out below you, lazily petting your calves and feet as Ghitir draws lazy circles into your stomach.
In no time at all, you fall asleep.
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buckyownsmylife · 3 years
Text
You and I - Henry Cavill smut
The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer
Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick,  laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex
Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill
A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar​ for giving this a read for me!
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Y/N’s P.O.V
Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.
I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.
Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.
There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.
I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.
Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.
I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.
I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.
The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.
Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.
“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.
Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.
Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.
My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.
I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.
With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.
“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.
“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”
Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”
I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.
Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.
“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”
I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.
“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.
“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”
The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.
I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.
“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.
“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.
“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.
Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.
“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.
“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.
“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.
“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.
“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.
“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…
“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.
“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.
“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.
“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.
The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.
“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.
“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.
“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.
Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.
“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”
He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”
Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.
“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.
“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”
“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.
“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.
“No.” It was all the permission he needed.
“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.
It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.
Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”
Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”
“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.
“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”
Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.
My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.
“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”
“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.
“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?
“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”
“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.
“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.
“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.
I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.
I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.
“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”
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kyberphilosopher · 3 years
Text
Androphobia
Requested? No Word Count: 7014
An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.
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Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.
  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ・゚ * ✭ ˚・゚✧*・゚  *
Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man. 
This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off. 
There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men. 
This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.
 * ✭ ˚ ✧* ・゚ * ✭ ˚・゚✧*・゚  *
You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.
Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot. 
Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried. 
(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”
“Shut the hell up.”)
The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one. 
You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point. 
And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day. 
And then...
As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.
So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man. 
[Sort of.]
“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”
“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”
“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”
He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn. 
“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”
Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering. 
In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard. 
“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”
“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”
“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above. 
He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you. 
You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible. 
“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”
Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman. 
But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath. 
It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do. 
You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks. 
The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.
* ✭ ˚ ✧* ・゚ * ✭ ˚・゚✧*・゚  *
“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?” 
You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”
Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.
“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”
Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”
“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”
Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something. 
“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”
“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that. 
“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”
“But the bias is the whole point.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’. 
“You talked to Connor about this?”
“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”
Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”
You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch. 
“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”
“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”
“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans. 
And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even. 
But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...
You snap your drawer shut. 
What’s wrong with you today? 
You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again. 
“Doctor L/N?”
You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person. 
And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark. 
“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”
“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair. 
“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins. 
Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close. 
“When?” you question. 
“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”
Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement. 
“I know that this must be difficult for you-”
“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”
The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”
And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.
“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”
“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”
“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.
“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”
There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine. 
And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself. 
And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half. 
“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”
Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”
Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”
Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones. 
Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response. 
“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”
You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”
“It’s just-”
“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings. 
As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does. 
* ✭ ˚ ✧* ・゚ * ✭ ˚・゚✧*・゚  *
The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused. 
Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike. 
A man, as usual. 
Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory. 
On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will. 
You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time. 
“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand. 
“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually. 
“The kid?”
“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment. 
Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change. 
“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”
You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all. 
“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot. 
“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”
Yep. Thanks, Hank. 
The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again. 
Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all. 
“You coming?”
“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”
“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”
“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”
“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately. 
Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth. 
“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”
“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”
“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something. 
“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”
Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last. 
“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed. 
Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away. 
Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him. 
You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around. 
“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly. 
“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly. 
“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat. 
“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”
“Alright. I’ll get you some.”
And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes. 
“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time. 
“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him. 
“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl. 
“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally. 
“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”
“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”
“Well... how would you like to address me?”
Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it. 
“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding. 
He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”
“What would you prefer?”
His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”
This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject. 
“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food. 
Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”
“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat. 
Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”
“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”
“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”
Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.
“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”
“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”
Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question. 
“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”
You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond. 
The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought. 
It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible. 
“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.
“Yes, thank you.”
You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.
Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.
“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.
“Hello,” Connor chirps back.
You just shoot Hank a glare.
“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.
“It was fine,” you tell him.
“Fine?”
“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”
* ✭ ˚ ✧* ・゚ * ✭ ˚・゚✧*・゚  *
You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump. 
You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one. 
Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense. 
Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend. 
Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe. 
The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt. 
“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded. 
“Doctor L/N?”
No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help. 
“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder. 
You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes. 
“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips. 
“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly. 
“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it. 
“You have... drool on your lips.”
You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”
“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building. 
“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”
“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around. 
* ✭ ˚ ✧* ・゚ * ✭ ˚・゚✧*・゚  *
That night, it rains. 
Thunder echoes, with  ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands. 
You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes. 
A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning. 
You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it. 
You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual. 
Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.
Come on, Hank, you think.  Please protect me. Please do this for me. 
And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android. 
A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are. 
Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you. 
“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now. 
“Can I come in?”
Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in. 
As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good. 
“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor. 
That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?
Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself. 
“Are you alright, Y/N?”
You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”
Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself. 
“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”
Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”
“I just- I can’t-”
You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes. 
“Can’t sleep.”
When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you. 
* ✭ ˚ ✧* ・゚ * ✭ ˚・゚✧*・゚  *
Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea. 
He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators. 
“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him. 
He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy. 
“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”
Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”
You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”
“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does. 
You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying. 
“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead. 
“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”
A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second. 
Then it goes quiet.
“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”
You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.
Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”
Connor’s led goes yellow.
“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”
Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.
It sounds like he really cares.
You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.
“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”
The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.
  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ・゚ * ✭ ˚・゚✧*・゚  *
This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.
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