Tumgik
#and only make teeny edits to this
doodlerh · 5 months
Text
WHAT WAS I THINKING!!! WATCHING THIS OTHER PERSON PULL!! OF COURSE THEY ARE C6ING HIM BC THEY HAVE TEN TRILLION PRIMOS!! NOW IM SAD AND FRUSTRATED AND DOWN RIGHT ENVIOUS !!!!!!!!!!
10 notes · View notes
loganlermanstanaccount · 10 months
Note
Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)
ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!
College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.
warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI
a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!
edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.
wc: 6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 
Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 
So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 
When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.
Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 
You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.
You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 
Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 
On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 
"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 
You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 
The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 
"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 
~~~
He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 
The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.
As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 
It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 
The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 
Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 
This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.
"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 
You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."
"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 
You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.
"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."
Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 
"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 
"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.
You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."
A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
~~~
You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 
After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 
Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 
You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 
It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 
It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 
Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 
On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 
" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 
What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 
Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 
He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 
All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 
" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 
He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-
" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 
He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 
" Fuck, Miguel…"
He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 
~~~
He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.
A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 
And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.
Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 
You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 
He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 
You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.
After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 
With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 
"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 
You wince."...F-Fine?" 
You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 
You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."
Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 
"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 
Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 
You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 
" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 
"You look… wet." 
"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 
"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 
There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 
Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 
He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 
" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 
It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 
"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."
"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 
"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 
"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."
"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"
"...I'd like that, to be honest."
"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."
"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 
~~~
You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 
You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 
There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 
It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.
Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 
What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 
Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 
So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 
“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"
You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 
All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 
"Yeah?" 
"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 
"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"
There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…
"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 
With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 
"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "
"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"
"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 
"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.
He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 
You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.
"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 
His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 
"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 
You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.
"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 
"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 
"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."
His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.
"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 
He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 
"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 
He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 
"Huh. I guess they do." 
"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"
"Katie." He hums. 
"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 
You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 
"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 
Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 
"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 
"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."
Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 
"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.
Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?
"...and I heard you say my name." 
"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 
"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 
He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"
A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."
"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."
He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 
He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 
It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 
"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."
You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 
He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 
Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 
Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 
"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 
"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 
"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.
He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"
Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"
He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 
You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."
"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 
It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 
"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 
You mumble something begrudgingly.
"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."
Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 
Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."
Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 
He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.
And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 
And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 
"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 
You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 
"Right there, fuck… "
Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 
You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 
"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 
"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 
Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 
"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."
His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."
You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 
"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 
"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."
He turns to you, lazily. 
"I could tutor you, if you'd like."
"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."
_
_
Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings
_
edit: the full fic xx
29K notes · View notes
eddiethefreakkmunson · 6 months
Text
Not So Accidental Invitations
Pairing: Roommate!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Tired of ignoring your ever growing attraction to your roommate Eddie you "accidentally" send him a partial nude, his reaction is everything you had hoped it would be and more... (Modern!AU)
Word Count: 10.4k
Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Friends to lovers, Smut, Masturbation (both male and female), Sex toys, Oral sex (both male and female), Fingering, PIV unprotected
Author's note: The smut at the end of this fic was nearly the death of me so I hope it is worth it 🥲 - I was originally supposed to post this on Monday as it was my birthday but despite only having one scene left I just couldn't get it right. But here we are with my longest oneshot yet, if you enjoy it as much as I hope please consider leaving a comment/reblogging it really means the world ❤️
Thanks to @shybunnie20 for the idea, editing helping and general constant love and support 😘😘
Tumblr media
Nope. Nope. Possibly that one. Immediately delete that one. 
You swiped through your camera roll examining the close to a hundred photos you had just spent the entire afternoon taking as you sat on the floor of your bedroom in your lacy red panties and an oversized band tee that belonged to your roommate, Eddie. Your roommate who just happened to be the intended recipient of the photos you had just put so much effort into perfecting. 
Eddie had moved in with you approximately six months prior when you mentioned to your co-worker Robin that you were going to put out an ad for a new roommate. Initially, your plan was to live by yourself after your best friend moved out and in with her boyfriend but after the first month on your own, the burden of bills became very apparent. You spent a couple of weeks surviving on a diet of ramen and came to the realisation that going solo just wasn’t going to be financially feasible for you. Robin told you that she had a friend who had just landed his first steady job and was looking to finally move out of his uncle’s one bedroom home. Upon being introduced to her friend Eddie the two of you engaged in effortless conversation. The exchange came so naturally in fact that he moved in only five days later. 
At first you wondered whether it would be awkward. You had never lived with a boy before and not only was Eddie a boy but he was also a stranger. It took less than an hour for you to realise that you had been worrying about nothing. You and Eddie hit it off in an instant, he was charming, he made you laugh and he even managed to fix the leak under your bathroom sink which your landlord had been ignoring your complaints about for months. He was also very easy on the eyes. Sure he was a little messy and often played his music too loud. He set off the smoke alarm more times than normal when he was cooking himself dinner but all in all, he was proving himself to be a pretty great roommate. Maybe, just maybe, you had developed a teeny tiny crush on him. Eddie was flirtatious by nature, and you would be lying to yourself if you said that his comments didn’t occasionally set off a wave of butterflies in your stomach. You weren’t trying to make anything happen with him, you were just curious to see if he had been having the same kind of feelings towards you.
That’s how your little experiment came into play. You were going to send him a nude, nothing too explicit, but something that was clearly meant to get the recipient more than a little riled up. You would tell Eddie you had sent it to him by mistake and to delete it, he would either respect your wish and you would both move on as if nothing had happened, or he would use it to his advantage. You really hoped it would be the latter. After narrowing it down to your favourite three photos you settled on a winner, you were kneeling on your floor in front of your full length mirror, your legs spread wide enough to just make out the faint damp patch soaking the material of your underwear. The hand that wasn’t holding up your phone was crossed over your bare chest, your breasts enhanced in size as they were pushed up by your forearm, careful not to expose your nipples. Your face was partially hidden by your phone, your lips set in a soft pout while you made direct eye contact with the camera. 
You opened up your messages and found Eddie’s name, you selected your photo of choice ready to send and debated whether to add a caption to tease him further. After typing and deleting several cheesy messages you settled on a simple kissy face emoji and hovered your thumb over the send button. You crept over to your bedroom door and cracked it openly silently. You could hear Eddie moving around in the kitchen as he made his dinner, you listened to the clinking of various pots and pans while he sang along to a new metal song you weren’t yet familiar with which was blasting out of the Alexa on your kitchen counter. With your heart racing in a mix of nerves and anticipation you hit send before you could talk yourself out of it. You heard the chime of his phone and the pause in his singing told you that it had gotten his attention. The loud clatter that followed as the plate he had been holding shattered against the floor confirmed that he had opened it. You counted to three and took a deep breath, putting on your best acting face you flung your door open and marched down the short hallway to the kitchen.
“Don’t open that!” you yelled in feigned panic. “That wasn’t meant for you, I’m so sorry please delete it.”
With wide eyes you covered your mouth with your hands and tried your best to look apologetic as you stood in front of your bewildered roommate. Eddie’s jaw was slack as he gawked down at his phone screen, the blush tinting his cheeks deepened by the second and when he finally glanced up at you he looked like a deer in headlights.
“Erm - Too late,” he stuttered, clearing his throat when his voice sounded more strangled than he wanted it to. 
You continued to stare at him, your eyes widening even further as if to silently say ‘Well?’
“Fuck - Sorry - I’m sorry,” Eddie scrambled with his phone to get the image of you off the screen in front of him. “I’ll delete it… I’m deleting it.”
You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be but it wasn’t this, you had never seen him this flustered before. Eddie Munson exuded the confidence of a guy that had girls falling at his feet. Given that he also fronted a remarkably talented band as a side gig, you always assumed that was exactly the case. It only occurred to you now that you’d never seen him bring anyone home before, not even for a one night stand. Eddie blew out an exasperated breath and slammed his phone down beside him, crouching down he averted his gaze and started to pick up the scattered shards of ceramic from the linoleum around his socked feet. 
“Oh hey, let me help,” you fussed and kneeled down beside him to grab some of the bigger pieces. 
Eddie felt light headed as your perfume invaded his senses and it was then that he noticed the sliver of red lace peeking out from beneath your shirt, or rather his shirt. The same red lace you were wearing in the photo that he knew was probably still damp with your slick. He felt his cock twitch within his boxers and became extremely self conscious when it dawned on him that he was wearing sweatpants, the last thing he needed to make this encounter even more awkward was to pop a visible boner in front of you. 
“Ow - Shit!” Eddie hissed as he felt a sharp sting, in his distraction he had sliced the pad of his finger open. 
“Oh my god,” you gasped as a droplet of blood spilled from the cut and ran down his finger. “Are you okay?”
“Uh huh - Yeah I just need-” Eddie was trying to desperately angle his body away from you as you continued to encroach upon his personal space.
“Seriously if you just let me -” You reached out for his bleeding hand.
“Please. Just stop!” He scolded which froze you in your tracks.
You quickly withdrew your hand as if he had burned you and hastily rose to your feet. Eddie immediately felt awful. He didn’t mean to snap at you, but the combination of your close proximity and the less-than-innocent thoughts that were plaguing the forefront of his mind caused his composure to break. Not to mention the mounting anxiety he felt at the possibility of you noticing the soon-to-be tent in his pants, you’d probably think he was a pervert if you saw it. 
“Eddie I’m sorry-” you started to apologise.
“No, no don’t be,” he cut you off. “You were just trying to help.”
You watched him stand and toss the broken plate into the trash can before moving to the sink to clean his wound beneath the stream of cold water, he kept his back to you the entire time. Great, not only did your plan not work but you also managed to piss him off. He turned only his head to look at you over his shoulder, sensing you watching him uneasily.
“Really, I got this, you can go- And I’m sorry about…” he softened his voice to let you know he wasn’t mad at you as he gestured towards his phone, you must have been feeling just as embarrassed as he was.
“My mistake,” you waved a hand in dismissal before turning on your heel and heading back to your bedroom.
Eddie didn’t move once you had disappeared behind your closed door. He stood, hands braced on the edge of the sink in front of him with his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to will away the image of you in such a sultry position but it was no use, it was already burned onto the inside of his eyelids. He groaned to himself and bent forward to rest his forehead against the cool marble countertop, his fingers woven into his tangled curls as he tugged them in frustration. He couldn’t stop thinking about your curves, your pout, the smoothness of your skin, that goddamn wet patch. He couldn’t help but wonder who was lucky enough to be the real recipient of your photo. Who had the power to get you so worked up that it was visible through the material of your underwear? Eddie groaned even harder when he acknowledged that the stabbing pain in his stomach was without a doubt jealousy. He’s spent the last six months sidestepping his unyielding attraction to you. He kept himself wound tight and made sure to avoid any actions that could jeopardise your relationship as roommates and friends. In a matter of minutes you had managed to unravel him. It wasn’t until the faint smell of burning interrupted his self deprecating internal monologue that he realised his dinner was burning.
“Shit!” Eddie blurted, snapping out of his trance to slide across the kitchen floor and yank open the oven door.
Eddie coughed as he accidentally inhaled a face full of smoke that quickly filled the kitchen. Snatching up the oven mitts he quickly turned off the oven and pulled out his charred dinner, dropping it on the countertop irritably. He leaned over and grabbed the nearest dish towel, desperately swatting at the air in an attempt to get the smoke to disperse. 
Eddie winced, his hands instinctively covering his ears as the shrill blaring of the smoke alarm rang through your apartment. 
“Not again,” he groaned through another cough, tears pooling at his lash line in the grey haze of the kitchen. 
He ran down the hall and jumped up aiming to reach the reset button on the alarm. You sat in your room and did your best not to burst into laughter as you heard him struggle to silence the deafening chirping.
“Shut the fuck up!” He barked in annoyance. “Stupid piece of shit!”
“It’s just saving our lives!” You called out from behind your closed door once the blaring had finally ceased. 
“There was no fire!” He yelled back in response before he grabbed his frayed grey bath towel from his room and ducked into the bathroom.
What he needed right now was to cool off with a cold shower. Fuck dinner, he’d lost his appetite anyway and he knew you’d eaten before he had gotten home from work. He would tidy the kitchen in the morning when his mind was no longer foggy.
You spent the next half an hour moping in your bedroom assuming that your plan hadn’t worked out. You knew it was a possibility and had convinced yourself that you had nothing to lose if Eddie didn’t reciprocate your crush. In reality, you were processing the blow your self esteem had just taken. You just hoped you hadn’t made him too uncomfortable, you couldn’t bear it if he now felt weird in your presence. 
You busied yourself in an attempt to take your mind off the entire situation. While rearranging your closet to be colour coordinated you were absent mindedly singing along to a song that had been stuck in your head all day. The sound of the bathroom door opening and Eddie’s bedroom door slamming shut had your stomach sinking all over again, you must have really upset him. You contemplated checking on him, maybe offering a more genuine apology would make things less awkward in the morning. After a moment of pondering you decided it was best for him to sleep on it, leaving him be you returned to softly humming along to the tune in your head.
Eddie flopped down on his squeaky mattress feeling no better than he had before his ice cold shower. Not only was he still overwhelmed but his aching hard-on had yet to subside. While he stood under the cool stream of water Eddie considered doing a little bit of self-maintenance to solve the very prominent problem he was dealing with. But instead he chose to suffer, knowing he would feel guilty if he jacked off imagining your photo while you sat right across the hall oblivious to his sinful activity. He hadn’t looked at the picture of your partially naked body since the shit show in the kitchen but now that his phone was next to him on his nightstand it was calling out to him, a siren’s song luring him to inevitable disaster. He had deleted the picture from his messages while you were standing in front of him, but Eddie’s phone was also set to have any images saved to his camera roll automatically, if he opened up his photos it would still be there. 
He knew it was wrong, you were his friend and you trusted him, but as his fingers fiddled with the plain plastic case covering his phone the temptation became too much. Just one more peek he told himself, just one moment of pure self indulgence before he deleted it for good. Swallowing any feelings of remorse Eddie pulled up the photo once again. His heart rate immediately kicked up as his eyes zeroed in on the swell of your chest. Despite how much of you he had already mistakenly witnessed he was greedy in wishing that your arm wasn’t covering your nipples, he wanted to know what you looked like wholly.
He imagined that it was his palms pushing them so high rather than your forearm. What kind of sounds would you make if his skin was touching yours? If he pinched your nipple between his thumb and index finger, would your back arch needily into his touch? Would you gasp or would you moan? Would you say his name? 
Eddie glanced down at the towel that was still wrapped around his hips, his cock hard and straining against the cotton which threatened to fall open at the slightest twist of his hips. He cursed himself for not taking care of it whilst he was in the shower. As lovely as your apartment was there had always been one thing that made living with another person a slight inconvenience, the walls were extremely thin. It didn’t help that your room was set up so that your bed was directly adjacent to his on the opposite side of the wall. 
Eddie listened to you singing along to some tune that he couldn’t decipher, you must have had your headphones on. This was his chance to get it out of his system while you wouldn’t be able to hear him. He could be quiet, this wasn’t his first rodeo. 
He trailed his free hand down the length of his bare torso, a soft groan rumbled in his throat as he cupped his aching length. He played with himself as his eyes returned to his phone, his gaze roaming lower over your soft stomach. He tried to picture what your velvety skin would feel like against his lips as he descended your body, kissing his way lower and lower until he reached the real treasure hidden beneath the damp, red lace. 
“Fuck,” he whispered as he gave himself one last gentle squeeze. 
With his finger hooked beneath the towel he tugged until it fell open, his cock springing upwards towards his tensed abdomen. His body trembled when he wrapped his fingers around the base, imagining your hand in place of his own he worked himself steadily. Would you set the same pace that he usually did? Eddie only had one setting when it came to touching himself, merciless and eager for any kind of friction that would quickly bring him to his climax. Or would you take your time with him? Experiment with the pressure of your touch as you carefully studied what his body reacted to the most. Your hands were smaller than his, dainty and delicate in comparison to his muscular, veiny ones. He knew he could experience so much more from your caresses, knew you could melt him into a puddle as you edged him with languid and careful strokes. Lost in his fantasies Eddie impatiently reached into the drawer of his nightstand where he kept the bottle of lotion he regularly used as lube.
With your closet in order you decided next to paint your toenails. You had halted your singing as you made yourself comfortable in the centre of your double bed with your choice of polish in hand. You were leaning forward over your bent knee ready to paint when a sound made you freeze on the spot. Was that a moan? You jumped up towards the head of your bed and eagerly squished your ear flat against the wall separating your room from Eddie’s. For a few moments there was nothing but silence, you wondered if your mind had been so caught up in Eddie that you had imagined it. Right as you were about to chide yourself for being so nosey you heard it again. Quieter this time, the softest little “Mmph..”, but unmistakable nonetheless. Your stomach flipped as you realised he was jacking off. You knew he must have done it countless times since moving in here but you had never heard it with your own ears until now. What a coincidence it happened to be the same day you tried to inconspicuously seduce him.
Eddie hadn’t noticed that your side of the shared wall had fallen silent. He was oblivious to his surroundings, too focused on the glide of his fist over sensitive flesh while staring at the pretty little pout your lips wore in the photo. His stomach quivered as he pictured them parting, accepting the weight of him heavy on your tongue while your head bobbed in time with his avid thrusts. His toes curled as he picked up the pace, a strangled whine escaping his throat as his thumb glided over his swollen, leaking tip. The sounds of his pumping fist echoed louder and wetter now, precum mixing with the lotion to provide sufficient lubrication. Eddie was fighting to keep his eyes from fluttering shut in bliss, determined to not waste a second of the time he had to look at you before having to get rid of your picture.
“O- ohh,” Eddie stuttered, no longer caring about trying to stay completely silent. “Oh my - fuuuck.”
You had emerged from your room to hear him more clearly, cautious not to position yourself directly in front of his door in case he caught sight of your shadow. You found a spot, one you deemed safe, and perched yourself against the wall. You blushed at the sounds of his laboured pants and sinful grunts, not thinking as you allowed your thighs to squeeze together in an attempt to somewhat alleviate the throb situating itself between them. Was he pleasuring himself to your picture? Maybe he wasn’t being honest when he told you he was deleting it, you hoped he wasn’t. Maybe he had and he was just imagining it, you thought of his big brown eyes squeezed shut tight as he tried to recall every little detail he’d seen of your body. Maybe he wasn’t getting off to you at all, he could’ve just been watching porn on his phone. You were about to let your feelings of discouragement take over again when you heard it. Your name. He whimpered your name huskily followed by a string of incoherent expletives. 
“Jesus fucking christ… Mmmph… Baby, bab- ohhh.”
Eddie felt his balls begin to tighten as his hips started to jerk, involuntarily chasing his fist. His grip around his cock tightened as his impending orgasm made itself known in the form of a tingle at the base of his spine. Through gritted teeth Eddie growled fiercely as he came, head thrown back into his pillow he fought the roar from deep in his chest as he rode out the most earth shattering high. 
“Oh shit, oh shit,” he panted hard, his body shaking when he glanced down at the pearlescent mess he had made across his stomach and chest.
Tossing his phone beside him on the comforter Eddie ran his hands down his blush tinted face. ‘Great,’  he thought. ‘Might as well get straight back in the shower.’
Your brain felt as clouded as Eddie’s had as you reeled from probably the hottest thing you had ever heard in your life. Now you needed a little self care of your own and the last ten minutes would absolutely be the soundtrack. You heard the bed springs creak behind his bedroom door and scrambled back to your own before he caught you eavesdropping and thought you were a pervert. Back in the safety of your room you bit your lip in giddiness with the knowledge that your little scheme had been successful. Eddie wanted you. He wanted you the same way that you had been wanting him for months and now that you had that confirmation, it was time to move onto phase two of your plan to seduce him.
Eddie was woken the next morning by the sound of your singing carrying down the small hallway to his bedroom. He groaned as he rolled onto his back, his closed fists rubbing harshly against his bleary eyes. He squinted against the rays of sunshine pouring in through the gaps in his broken blinds, your voice slowly waking his sleepy mind one sweetly sung word at a time. A small smile graced the edges of his lips until it dawned on him exactly what you were singing. The events of the night before came rushing back to him and his stomach sank with the guilt of it. He prayed that he would be able to compose himself enough in your presence that it wouldn’t be totally obvious that you had been the only thing on his mind for the entire night. He still hadn’t deleted your photo. 
He stretched out his aching limbs, grunts of relief escaping his throat with each crack of his spine. Grabbing the first clean t-shirt from his top dresser drawer and his discarded sweatpants from his bedroom floor he made himself decent and prepared to face you. 
He opened his door and was hit with the sweet smell of pancakes, a Sunday morning ritual. His bare feet padded softly down the hall until he met you in the kitchen, his ruined dinner from the night before nowhere in sight. 
“Morning,” Eddie said softly, his voice still raspy and laced with sleep. 
You jumped slightly, not having heard him approach. 
“Morning,” you returned without even looking at him. 
“You didn’t have to clean that up,” he gestures towards the countertop where his former mess had been. “Swear I was gonna do it before you woke up - Sorry.” 
“It’s okay,” you shrugged, still keeping your eyes on the pan in front of you. “Needed the kitchen.” 
‘Okay,’ Eddie thought. ‘This feels fucking awkward.’
He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and watched you plate your breakfast. His eyes narrowed as you smothered it in your chosen toppings, why were you not talking to him? After grabbing some cutlery from the drawer by your hip you picked up your plate and turned to leave the kitchen, looking at Eddie for the first time that morning you gave him a tight lipped smile as you pushed past him and disappeared back into your own room. 
You hadn’t made him any pancakes. Not that Eddie expected you to make him breakfast. He was perfectly capable of pouring himself a bowl of cereal, but this was the first time since he moved in that you hadn’t offered him pancakes on a Sunday morning. Were you still embarrassed about him accidentally seeing you in such a vulnerable position? The thought of that possibility made him feel like even more of a creep for not only keeping the photo, but using it to jack off with you in the next room. Oh fuck - What if you heard him? No, no, no you can’t have heard him. He was quiet, wasn’t he? Sure, maybe he got a little lost in the thought of you sucking his soul out through his dick but he wasn’t loud. He definitely didn’t say your name. Nope, definitely not. Shit. 
Eddie was starting to panic. He was second guessing what had slipped out of his mouth in the heat of the moment and the fact you might have heard him, or probably did hear him if your behaviour this morning was anything to go by, was making him feel sick. What if you wanted him to move out? How mortifying would it be for him to go crawling back to Wayne and explaining he needed to move back in because he was a degenerate that couldn’t control himself around his cute roommate. Oh God, what if you mentioned something to Robin? What if you asked her why she had recommended such a weirdo to move in with you? Then she would surely tell Steve, soon after all of his friends would know and he’d be a laughing stock. By this point Eddie’s heart was in his throat and his palms were sweating profusely, he had to force himself to breathe and stop overthinking it. He didn’t know for sure that you had heard anything, maybe you just didn’t feel like being social this morning. He decided his best course of action was to just stay out of your way for the rest of the day and hope by tomorrow it had all blown over. 
So that’s exactly what Eddie did. You barely bumped into him all afternoon, Sunday was the one day that you were both guaranteed to be off work together. Usually the day would be spent in easy company, both of you occupying the living area. He would practise a little guitar while you sat and read a book, you’d watch a couple of episodes of whatever TV show you had been binge watching together recently. Sometimes he’d fire up his Playstation and you’d laugh as you watched him get himself riled up at a particularly difficult part,  so much so you would have to force him to take a breather before he broke something. It was the one day a week you always ate dinner together. But not today. Eddie hadn’t left his bedroom since your uncomfortable encounter at breakfast. You heard him emerge a handful of times to use the bathroom but each time he would disappear too quickly for you to grab his attention. 
You had meant to play it cool this morning, act like nothing had happened the night before but maybe you had overdone it. Now you were worried that you had come across too cold, you felt guilty for not making him pancakes like you always did. You knew how anxious he got sometimes and you just hoped you hadn’t freaked him out too much. Did he suspect you of eavesdropping on him last night and think you were mad at him? You had planned to draw out your plan of seduction a little longer but maybe it was time you made things even, it was only fair. 
Eddie had grabbed as many snacks and cans of soda he could carry in preparation for a day shut alone in his room. Then after the growl of his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten since he was at work the day before he returned to grab more before you reappeared with your empty breakfast dishes. He spent the entire day keeping himself occupied, luckily he had a lot of planning to do for his next campaign which served as a successful distraction. While hours had passed without him giving you much thought there was still the lingering feeling of guilt, deep in his chest that he was unable to shake off. 
Any time he needed to leave his room to make a quick trip to the bathroom he lingered by his door for a few moments, listening extra carefully to make sure he couldn’t hear you moving around outside before he made a run for it. He would have to settle on something microwaveable for his dinner, something that would only take minutes to cook whilst you were in the shower. He would wait until he heard the rush of the running water to make his move and be back in his safe haven without you even knowing he had surfaced. Eddie wondered if he was being ridiculous, was going out of his way to make sure he didn’t face you even once the entire day making things so much worse? Then he remembered how dismissive you had been of him at breakfast and decided that he definitely didn’t want to experience that again. 
By the time Eddie heard the bathroom door close and the shower faucet come to life it was almost 11PM. He counted to sixty to allow time for you to get under the water, then with his unsatisfied stomach gurgling he darted to the kitchen. He shoved his frozen mac and cheese into the microwave and watched the timer count down each painful second as if he could magically make it go faster if he just stared hard enough. With his fork at the ready he yanked open the door the instant it started beeping and dumped the piping hot mush into a bowl before scarpering back to the safety of his room. 
You rolled your eyes at the sound of Eddie’s heavy footsteps bounding down the hall, if he was trying to be sneaky about leaving his room he was doing a terrible job at it. You were tired of him avoiding you now, whether it was for his benefit or your own you were struggling to figure out but either way you had to make it stop. As the steaming water ran down your body you let your mind wander to the night before. You had been thinking of the heavenly sounds that drifted through the cheap plywood door, the desperate little whines and whimpers that Eddie was clearly trying and failing to hold in, the way your name sounded as it slipped from his lips right before he came. You pictured him lying back on his black and white chequered bedsheets, his thick ring clad fingers pumping his stiff cock. You knew he probably wasn’t wearing his rings having been fresh out of the shower but in your fantasies, he was always wearing them. Wait, you told yourself as you resisted the urge to reach between your legs to appease the ache blossoming in your core. Stick to the plan. 
Back in your room you rifled through your underwear drawer to pick out a matching set, another lacey get up that made you feel extra cute. After spritzing yourself with your favourite perfume you turned off your lights until your room was bathed in only the soft glow from the small bedside lamp on your nightstand. You put on a bit of music, slow but hardly audible, just enough to set the mood. After the finishing touch of burning a few vanilla scented candles your classic self seduction set up was complete. You pressed your ear to the wall to see if you could hear any movement from Eddie but were met with complete silence, you only hoped he hadn’t already fallen asleep. 
You made yourself comfortable, reaching into your nightstand you pulled out your favourite vibrator and lay back against your pillow. Closing your eyes you let your thoughts wander back to the scene you had been picturing in the shower, fingertips softly glide over your skin, already tingling with the anticipation of what you hoped was going to happen tonight. You wondered if Eddie still had your photo, it sounded like he had put it to good use and you could only hope he wanted to revisit it again. Was the reason he had been in hiding all day because he wanted to avoid another confrontation or was it because he couldn’t look at you without seeing you almost naked? 
You kept your underwear on, not wanting to get too carried away while you were still on your own, but with your patience dwindling faster than you had expected your thumb eagerly flipped the switch on the vibrator. Keeping the speed low to begin with your breath hitched with excitement as the light buzzing filled your room. With one hand palming your breasts over cups of your bra you dragged the silicone toy over your skin, imagining it was Eddie’s touch electrified. You teased the lace edges of your panties, squirming beneath the vibrations as your pussy begged you for attention. 
Eddie’s ears pricked up the instant he heard the gentle buzz from your side of the wall. Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me he thought. He tossed the book he had been reading carelessly to the side, not bothered about losing his place as he knelt by his headboard and pressed his ear just above it. Were you doing what he thought you were doing? The soft little whimpers and sighs he could just about make out  told him that yes, you were doing exactly what he thought. He didn’t know you had a vibrator, he’d never heard you use it before now. Were you trying to punish him for the night before? 
Eddie backed away from the wall the second he felt the stirring in his sweatpants. No, no, no we’re not doing this again. He jumped off his bed and paced his floor, messy curls in disarray as he tried to shake the image of you pleasuring yourself out of his head. His attempt was futile as the whirring of the toy only got louder. Were you trying to kill him? He eyed up his headphones lying on top of his desk, he should just put them on. That’s what he should do, just put them on and turn his music up loud enough that it drowned out any sound that could tempt him. But Eddie didn’t walk towards his desk, instead his feet took him towards his door. 
He turned the handle and pulled the door open just a crack, he listened carefully but found that your sounds were somehow more muffled than when he was shut in his room. He opened it fully and stuck his head out, his body acting like he had no control as he crept closer to your room. He avoided the squeaky floorboard that he knew was right outside and suddenly his body was practically pressed against your door. Fuck. Eddie could smell the vanilla candles along your perfume and his head was starting to spin. He listened to your little “oh”s and “ah”s and knew that he was screwed, there’s no way he wasn’t taking care of the tent in his pants without thinking about you again tonight. 
Your hips bucked against the air, your pussy aching to be filled as you pressed the vibrator against your clit, your greedy thumb edging the speed setting higher and higher with each passing minute. You almost forgot about the show you were supposed to be putting on, too caught up in the sensations your head lulled to the side, eyes screwed shut. It wasn’t until they fluttered open again that you were reminded of the reason you were doing this. Eddie. He was outside your door, apparently in his lust filled haze he wasn’t as mindful as you when it came to the little things like his shadow being visible beneath the gap. 
Your stomach flipped and your heart stuttered, the excitement only growing knowing that your plan was working once again and he was listening to every sound you made. You pulled the toy away before you were too far gone, without switching it off so he wouldn’t think you had stopped, you reached for your phone. Right beneath the picture which started this whole thing you typed out your message and quickly hit send. 
Eddie almost had a heart attack when his phone chimed, it was almost comical how far into the air he jumped to the point it slipped out of his pocket and clattered to the floor beside him. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck, there’s no way you’re gonna let him keep living here now. This is what he gets for being a pervert. Eddie tried to slow his heart rate as the mortification of being caught again set in. He desperately tried to think of a way he could pass it off as a coincidence, that he was simply walking past your room to the kitchen when his phone went off. He picked up the phone to see who the fucker that dropped him in it was and froze when he saw your name accompanied by just two words that made his jaw drop. 
‘Help me’
Surely you didn’t mean help help, Eddie had never been that lucky. If that’s what you truly meant then he must be dreaming. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he tried to decide if he should reply or just open your door. His anxiety got the better of him, somehow convincing him that your very obvious signals were a figment of his imagination and he settled on the former. You bit your lip and giggled to yourself as you watched the speech bubble appear and disappear a hundred times over. When his reply finally popped up you wanted to bang your head against the wall. 
‘With what?’ 
Eddie waited nervously for the bubble that indicated you were typing, it only appeared for a fraction of a second before your next message appeared and his heart skipped once again. 
‘Please’
That was all Eddie needed to finally accept that this was really happening, that you had been thinking about him the same way he was thinking about you. He typed out a quick ‘Ok’ and counted out sixty seconds in his head, as if delaying his entering would somehow convince you he hadn’t been hanging outside eavesdropping. Flexing his fingers to try and shake off the slight tremor in hand he reached out to slowly open your bedroom door. 
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath when he took in the sight of you laying back in the centre of your bed, legs crossed at the ankles and propped up on your elbows.
You waited patiently for Eddie to process what he was seeing. He knew he shouldn’t stare but he couldn’t stop his eyes from raking over your body, he couldn’t believe that just 24 hours earlier he was seeing this through his phone screen and now you were here right in front of his eyes. You watched him gawk at you with wide eyes and parted lips. Your own gaze travelled the length of his lean figure, you had to bite your lip to suppress the smirk brought on by the sight of his obvious erection. Arching your knees you grinned at him softly, spreading your legs to reveal the damp spot between them. Eddie gulped, almost choking when he realised how dry his mouth had become. His brain suddenly reminded him to stop making an ass of himself and move, mentally slapping himself out of his trance he forced his feet to carry him forward. It felt as if every nerve in his body was alive as he crawled along your mattress and settled himself between your legs, careful to not touch you just yet he hovered above you.
“You really want this?” he asked breathlessly, praying that you wouldn’t take the last chance he was giving you to change your mind. 
You leaned further forward on your elbows until your face was inches from his own, flicking the off switch on your vibrator you placed it on the bed beside you before you answered him. 
“So fucking bad.”
Eddie growled as his plush lips crashed against yours, your fingers instantly threaded into his soft locks desperate to hold him close to you. He wasted no time deepening the kiss, revelling in the feel of you as your tongue glided against his. You whined into his mouth as he let his full weight press you down into the mattress, his hips needily rutting against your heat. 
“Need you,” he breathed against your lips. 
Your ankles locked around his waist, your heels digging into his ass to encourage his wild thrusts against the place you were craving him most. With the deliciously hard outline of his cock rubbing so blissfully along your need you writhed beneath him. Your hands wandered his body, frantically grabbing any part of him you could reach. Snagging the hem of his shirt with your fingers you ripped it up over his body, he huffed a breathless laugh at your eagerness when it got caught around his neck. 
“Easy, easy,” he warned gently, slowly untangling his limbs from yours so he could lean up to pull the shirt over his head. 
Starved for his touch you followed him upright, your lips attacking the softness of his belly. With his shirt gone he was infatuated as he watched you kiss your way down the light trail of hair below his navel. He groaned when your head continued lower, his body physically shuddering as the bridge of your nose nuzzled his already aching cock. He had to pull himself out of his captivation before he was unable to tell you to stop, his thumb caressed your cheekbone softly pulling you from his crotch. 
“Not until I taste you first,” he leaned down to press his lips to yours, quickly pulling back and smiling when you chased him for more. “Been dreaming’ of doin’ this every fucking night.” 
Moving his hand to your shoulder he guided you to lay back on your pillows and quickly slid down your body until his head was between your spread legs. His hands gripped the underside of your thighs and pulled you down towards his face. 
“Mmmm,” he hummed as he admired the wet spot now noticeably larger than when he walked in. 
Your hips jolted upwards when you felt him trace along your slit with his index finger, tickling you with his featherlight touch. His button nose nuzzled you tenderly, mimicking what you had been doing to him before he interrupted. Eddie felt himself getting lightheaded as he inhaled your scent, his own hips bucking with primal need against your mattress as he let his desire take over. 
His fingers hooked into the elastic of your underwear, using your heels you lifted your hips to assist him with removing them before he could ask for permission. He peeled off the flimsy lace, sticking for a moment to the heat at your core. Tossing them over his shoulder he placed a line of damp kisses along the inside of both your thighs. You were practically vibrating with anticipation by the time he delved in. 
To say he knocked the breath out of your lungs the moment his tongue pushed between your folds was an understatement. If you weren’t already lying down you would have buckled at the knees, his slow purposeful licks along your entrance ripping from you a moan that reverberated in his ears. 
You almost whined at the loss of the warm wetness pushing into your entrance until one long lick upwards had him settling at your clit. With the tip of his tongue flicking at your sensitive bud his strong hands gripped beneath your ass, squeezing the flesh of your cheeks to smother his face further into your cunt. 
He was messy, hungry, drunk on the taste of your arousal. His unruly curls tickled the inside of your thighs as he shook his head back and forth between them, the rumble of his own moans resonating deep in your core. He pulled one hand from beneath you and brought them to your dripping entrance. 
“Fuck Eddie!” You cried as he pushed two fingers deep into your pussy. “Oh my - fuck.” 
You couldn’t believe how full you felt just from his fingers. The pressure of your impending orgasm rising in the pit of your stomach as he fucked them into you at a brutal pace. You could feel him smirking against your clit as he rejoiced in the feel of your walls clenching around his digits rapidly. 
“Gonna soak my face, pretty girl?” He purred as he came up for air. “Don’t get all shy on me now huh, I wanna hear you fucking scream.” 
Your eyes rolled back into your skull as he dived back in, the flick of his tongue twice as fast as before. The filthy wet sounds of his fingers stroking your g-spot echoed through your room and before you knew it your release was ripping through you like wildfire. Your entire body tensed as you sobbed his name, the grip you had on his hair tightened painfully and it only made him roll his own hips harder. 
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” You repeated his name like a mantra as your soul returned to your trembling body. 
Eddie gave your clit one last kiss before he removed his fingers and sat back on his heels. He looked feral as he beamed down at you. His face shone with the evidence of the earth shattering climax he’d just given you, his hair was a mess and sticking to his sweaty forehead, the warm chocolate brown of his irises almost completely black. 
Despite feeling weak you still burned for him in your post orgasm haze, especially when he started to push his sweatpants down over his hips. Your mouth started to fill with saliva as you watched his cock spring up from the confines of his boxers and bob in the air up by his stomach. He was so fucking beautiful. You already knew from the outline of his erection that he was well endowed, but now that you were seeing him in the flesh you couldn’t wait to feel the underside of his velvety shaft glide across your tongue. 
Raising to your knees in front of him you reached for his hands. Eddie took them, enveloping your fingers in his much larger ones and leaned down to capture you in a kiss. You giddily accepted, sighing as you tasted yourself on his tongue your head started to feel hazy again. Untangling your fingers from his you reached up to cup his rosy cheeks, his hands settling on your waist and pulling you closer. The pit of desire in your lower belly stirred once again as his hardness pressed prominently into your hip. 
Without moving your mouth off of his you encouraged him to switch places with you, dotingly guiding him to sit back against your pillows. Eddie’s eyelids fluttered closed, a hum of content passing his lips as your kisses now travelled the length of his jaw and down the tender flesh of his neck. He hissed as you nipped playfully at his collarbone and continued south towards his groin. 
You had never wanted to suck a dick so badly but with Eddie’s sticky red tip, leaking blots of precum you craved the bitter taste of him flooding your mouth. Eddie hissed as you ran your palm up the length of his member, painfully swollen and begging for any form of friction. 
“Oh shit this is happening,” he whimpered above you. “This is really fucking happening.” 
You smiled at the sweetness of it, his chin was still shining from the way he devoured your pussy only two minutes before and yet he couldn’t believe you were about to return the favour. That you were on your knees and dying to worship him the same way he had you. Eddie gasped when your tongue ran along his fully hard shaft. Taking his tip between your lips you swirled your tongue around his slit before greedily taking him to the back of your throat. 
Eddie didn’t realise how far gone he already was until he felt the warmth of your mouth engulf him whole. You choked slightly as your nose almost touched the dark thatch of curls at his base but breathed through it when you listened to the guttural moan that tore from his throat. His hands threaded into your hair on either side of your head to hold you in place, not forceful but encouraging. 
He began to softly rock his hips in time with the bob of your head. With the power of speech lost on him Eddie felt the all too familiar rush of his climax beginning to rise and quickly used his grip on your hair to pull you away from him. 
“Fuck I’m sorry,” he babbled breathlessly, foreheads brought together as his nose nuzzled the apple of your cheek, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles to your temple in case he had tugged your hair too hard. “M’sorry I was gonna cum.”
“I wanna see you cum,” you pleaded just as breathlessly with a sloppy kiss pressed to his lips.  “Please Eddie I wanna make you cum.” 
“C’mere,” he whined, tapping your thighs in a signal to straddle him. 
You grabbed his shoulders for leverage and did as instructed while he fumbled with the clasp of your bra. With his frustration evident, you batted his hands away and popped it open yourself. Eddie wasted no time ripping the straps down your arms and taking your nipple into his mouth, groaning as you reached between you to grasp his cock in your fist. You teased him as you slid the head through your heat gathering your slick. He released your nipple with a wet pop and looked up at you with his lust-blown orbs. 
“Do we need a condom?” He asked, pulling himself out from under your spell long enough to be sensible. 
To his relief you shook your head. 
“Ready?” You asked, voice shaking with need. 
His head nodded wildly, your forehead rested against his to stop the movements and your eyes locked with his as you slowly sank down his length. You both gasped at the same time, your gazes never breaking as the burn of his cock stretching you left you equally breathless. 
“Oh my god.. you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Eddie’s voice was strained as he worked to control himself. 
“Eddie…” you whined, faces so close your breath tickled his skin. “So full.” 
He wrapped his arms around you to pull your chest flush with his, one hand holding you securely in position around your waist whilst the other found purchase on the back of your head. With your bodies pressed so closely together it was awkward to set an even rhythm but you rocked your hips together best you could. His tip was deep inside you and you squirmed against the dull ache as your body continued to adjust to his size. 
“You okay?” He asked filled with concern as he felt your brow crease deeply against his own. 
“Mmhm,” you reassured him, never breaking eye contact while you held his face in your hands. “You feel so, so good.”
Eddie couldn’t remember a time he had been treated with such tenderness, especially during sex but he knew you were different, had known from the moment he met you that you were destined to be more than just roommates. 
You adjusted the angle of your hips while Eddie continued to buck into you, seeking out the spot you knew would bring you to edge faster than any other. You froze when you found it, a curse leaving your lips as your walls pulsed around his cock. 
“Oh fuck… right there baby?” Eddie chuckled as you started to bounce in his lap, your hips now moving of their own accord desperately seeking that jolt of pleasure as he brushed your spot over and over. 
Frustrated that he couldn’t move as easily as he wanted, Eddie squeezed your hip and attempted to shift your position. 
“Eddie!” You cried in exasperation as he thwarted your imminent orgasm. 
“I know, I know I’m sorry,” he panted, tapping a kiss to your lips in apology. 
You let him manoeuvre you until you laid flat on your back, legs falling open easily to welcome him back where he belonged in that moment. Gripping his length he gave your clit a quick tap, delighted in the way it made you squirm before he hastily re-entered you. With the freedom to move as he wished Eddie began to piston his hips at a brutal pace. You were practically weeping as you reached for him, while the new speed and angle was sending you dizzy you missed the feeling of his skin pressed to yours. 
Eddie leaned forward at your request, hovering over you as he braced his weight on either side of your head. You growled as you dug your heels into his tailbone, still not totally satisfied you reached around his hips to grab two handfuls of his gorgeous ass in an attempt to take him deeper, you wanted him so deep it felt like he was splitting you open. 
Eddie felt like he was going to explode at any moment, with the way you were acting almost ravenous for his cock and the fact that he had been walking the precipice since the moment he entered your room he was surprised he had managed to last this long as it was. Desperate to feel you cum for him one more time he leaned back to grab the discarded vibrator from your bedsheet, with no patience left in either of you for teasing he flicked the switch to a high setting and held it firmly against your clit. 
“Oh my god!” You screamed, head thrown back into your pillow as his cock continued to thrust in and out of you at a brutal pace. “Eddie, Eddie baby… Gonna cum.”
“Oh yeah, you're gonna cum?” Eddie grunted, teeth gritted as he fought off his own orgasm, the vibrations from your toy travelling through your core and along his dick. “Give it to me sweetheart give me everything - From the moment I first laid eyes on you I knew I was fucked - Oh I’m so close fuck, fuck, fuck fuuuck…”
All it took was a few more strokes against your spot as he pounded into you before the dam broke. Your nails bit into the skin of his forearm as your release crashed over you wave after wave. If Eddie hadn’t been so close to breaking point before, the feeling of your pussy clenching down rhythmically around his cock would have driven him there in an instant. 
The tightness in his muscles snapped and his cum painted your walls in sharp spurts. The whimpering moan that slipped from his lips would have embarrassed him under any other circumstances but in that moment the electric pleasure that coursed through his veins made it hard to care. He was pulled back to Earth by the feel of you trying to push the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, the overstimulation becoming too much as Eddie was frozen in place. 
“Sorry, fuck sorry,” he mewled, clicking flicking the off switch before he collapsed fully on top of you. 
You squealed as his weight pushed you down into the mattress, your legs wrapped around his hips keeping him inside you while your arms encircled his shoulders. 
“Eddie…” you cooed sweetly into the crown of his head, your fingers gently combing back strands of damp hair which stuck to his face. “Eddie…” 
He tilted his head up to look at you, the dopey, lovesick grin that stretched the corners of his lips did nothing to slow your racing heart. He planted one, two, three kisses to the centre of your chest before mustering the strength to roll off of you. You pouted at the loss as you felt his dick slip out of you. Eddie flopped onto his back and patted his chest. 
“C’mere baby,” he sighed, pulling you into an embrace. “Just wanna hold you.”
You scooched forward and lay your head next to the demon tattoo on his left pec. 
“Did you mean what you said?” you asked, panting slightly as you still tried to catch your breath. “About when you first saw me?”
“That I knew I was fucked? Yeah I meant it,” Eddie chuckled softly. “You’ve been driving me crazy for six whole months.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I erm - I’ve thought about you a lot, you know when I -” he awkwardly reached down and made a jacking off motion with his hand, you pressed your lips together to suppress a giggle. “Last night wasn’t the first time.”
“Ah so I did hear correctly then,” you teased, your laugh this time escaping as you watched the blush creep up his cheeks. 
Eddie internally cringed when he realised you had never confirmed that you had been listening to him. 
“It’s okay,” you reassured him casually. “I thought about you too.”
“Sure you did,” he scoffed.
You rolled over to reach down the side of your bed and snatch up the discarded t-shirt you had stolen from him, you tossed it behind you so it landed on his chest.
“Remember the weekend you went away on that fishing trip with Wayne?” you watched as he curiously picked up his shirt, only nodding when he realised you were waiting for an answer. “Well I stole that from you cause it smelled of you the strongest.”
“You went smelling all my shirts?”
“Yes,” you admitted confidently. “Then I took that one back to my room and buried my face in it while I humped my pillow.”
Eddie almost died at your lascivious confession. His face was a picture as the redness tinting his cheeks deepened, his eyes growing impossibly wide. You would have given anything to be able to hear his thoughts in that moment.
“I have your panties,” he blurted out suddenly.
“What?” you shrieked out in disbelief.
“I didn’t steal ‘em though,” he side-eyed you sheepishly. “They musta got mixed up with my laundry and I just didn’t tell you.”
“The black mesh ones with the little white daisies?”
“Uh huh.”
“Eddie!” you scolded as you swatted his arm playfully. “Those are my favourite pair. I've been looking for them for like a month!”
“Finders Keepers,” he shrugged, a cheeky smirk tugged at his lips.
“Perv,” you taunted.
“Hey, they were clean,” he refuted. “And I didn’t do anything with them, you are the pervert here.”
You narrowed your eyes at him in a scowl and he copied you. You stayed that way in a stand off until it was you that finally broke, your lips twitching into a smile as you couldn’t hold your laughter in any longer. Eddie quickly followed suit, through his giggles he cast aside his shirt once again he pulled you close so your head rested on his chest above his heart. 
“I really didn’t think you liked me that way,” he muttered into the crown of your hair, his tone more serious once the snickers had subsided. “You know when I first moved in here I used to parade around in my towel after my shower on purpose just to see if you’d ever check me out. Was kinda bummed after a couple of weeks and I hadn’t caught you looking.”
“Oh I was checking you out,” you affirmed with a smile. “I’m just way more subtle than you.”
“If I’m not subtle then what was the need for your little experiment?” he challenged. 
He had you there, unable to think of a decent comeback you rolled your eyes and let him take the win. He snorted a laugh and squeezed his arms around you tightly, you buried your face into his pale skin and indulged in finally being this close to him.
“What happens now?” you asked without looking up at him, your words muffled by his chest. 
“Huh?” he asked, removing one hand from your waist to force you to lift your chin up.
“I said what happens now? I mean we are still roommates, does everything stay the same?”
“I hope not,” he frowned. “You gonna let me take you out?”
“Like a date?”
“Yeah like a date. I actually wanted to surprise you since your birthday’s coming up and all, was gonna cook you a nice meal. Been practising and everything but since I clearly still can’t cook for shit how about Enzos?”
Your heart melted at the thought of Eddie trying so hard to impress you, that all those times you cursed at that damn smoke alarm going off again it could have been an attempt at him doing something special for you. You were glad that you had gotten the ball rolling by sending him your picture, but even if you had chickened out maybe you both would have found your way here eventually anyway.
“Enzos sounds great.”
Tags for anyone that asked/rebogged/showed any interest in my preview ❤️: @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @bebe07011 @chaoticoffin @boomhauer
5K notes · View notes
konigceo · 6 months
Text
könig loves soft sex n he loves kissing u while fucking bc it just feels so so intimate and he loves being close to you at all times :3
könig is super slow and sensual and so careful to not hurt u, because ur so teeny tiny to him, no matter how tall u may be. he probably doesn't even fuck you fully most of the time, using half of his cock, or sometimes just his fingers/mouth :(
he's so considerate of u, never going hard unless u literally beg him to. i’ve seen some ppl say this but i personally don't think könig is super kinky or anything bc he's afraid of hurting u during such an intimate time. he only wants u to feel good.
but just because he isn't into intense stuff doesn't mean he won't indulge if you ask him. anything u want, he'll try his best to give it to u. it's gonna take könig some time to get used to choking and things of the like tho, because so many people have died from him doing the same thing and he's scared to hurt u (like i said like a million times)
könig loves to make u feel good over anything. your pleasure comes before his, and he wants you to know that :(
written by a minor (edit)
3K notes · View notes
sapphhicslut · 8 days
Text
The thought of you… chapter one
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I’m not a ‘maybe.’ I’m the one
loser!ellie x reader
summary: she finally spoke to you, after the long awaited 2 weeks of ‘knowing’ you she finally spoke words to you. You just looks to pretty, so she had to make sure you got home safe. So no one could kidnap you or anything, for your own safety. And maybe something else…
cw: modern au, YOU au, New York living, nsfw, masturbation(ellie), kinda sub!ellie??, stalking, Ellie’s creepy, and pervy, hg follows you home, and watches you the your window, you live on the first floor with a big ass window fyi, Ellie thinks she’s Batman, pet names, Ellie is more of like a nervous loser then Joe Goldberg mindset, nudity(reader), talk of kidnapping and talk of Ellie being a kidnapper🫢, Ellie is so fucking delusional, there’s some drink making and I honestly think I got all that wrong(like how to make them) so let’s ignore all that, bad writing?, words in this font are Ellie’s thoughts btw. I think that’s it but lmk if not<3 kinda edited??
an: this was soooo fun to write!! Also there’s smut at the end and it’s very bad, because idk how to write smut. so ignore that and pretend like it’s not there <3
wc: 4.5k
daily click. don’t buy tlou. read this. and this. help Palestine
series masterlist | chapter two ➜
Tumblr media
You you you you you- you
All that went through Ellie’s mind. Every second of every minute, hour, day, and week, all the fucking time. She just could not get you out of her head. You were like an annoying headache, except for the annoying part. Ellie thought very differently of you. She thought you were kind, caring, nice, beautiful, very beautiful if Ellie was being honest. She couldn't get the image of you, your face of-an-angel out of her head. Every little thing about you was Ellie's thought 24/7.
You are the highlight of her day, every time she'd get to see you, she'll try to talk to you but chicken out at the very last minute. The first time Ellie laid eyes on you was at a local coffee shop, you were sitting there with a friend laughing at something. And to her you were so perfect, so beautiful in that moment. She isn't creepy, no. She's just a teeny tiny bit obsessed. Longed for you, needed you. Needed to be with you. She would watch you from where she stood, admire your face and the curves of your body, the way you typed on your computer. She just couldn't get enough of you. Sometimes she would follow you back home, making sure you got back safe, that no one would kidnap you or something.
She would stand across the street of your apartment complex, watching you through your window, your uncurtained window that anyone could see through. I'll definitely be buying you some curtains. no one else is allowed to look at you, besides me. She'd watched you, walking around, doing something on your computer, on the phone with someone, dancing around to some music. To her it looked like you were happy. But wouldn't you be ten times happier if Ellie was in your life?
One more thing, you and Ellie have never talked to each other. You have absolutely zero clue of who she is, and, well, I can't say the same for Ellie, because god, she knows a lot about you. She knows your birthday, your favorite color, food, knows every person you talk to on a regular basis, she knows everything. Yeah you've seen her in the coffe shop you spend way to much time in, some glances, and friendly smiles, when walking past Ellie. But that was it, not even a hey. Okay maybe Ellie was creepy, and a stalker. But as long as you didn't know or bat an eye, Ellie was not going to stop until you were hers.
Her goal was to be able to call you her and only hers. She wanted to know you more than she already does. She has to get closer to you, but how could she do that when she is terrified to talk to you, to be more than 10 feet closer to you.
It wasn't you she was scared of, it was, what if you were to find out she was a creepy stalker who was completely and utterly obsessed with you, followed you home and watched you through your window most days. Ellie found out basically everything she needed to know about you on the internet, all that only because she's too scared to say hi.
But then what were the chances of you finding out that you have a stalker? Ellie was very, very good at cleaning up her tracks. Cleaning up the messes she made. She was, and is about anything and everything she does related to you, making sure that no one will ever find out that she knows more than she should about you. Having a second account on all social media’s you have just to see what you’re up to. And the same goes for every single one of your friends, and or any person you have ever talked to. She knows where you were born, where you lived your whole life. Ellie knows where your family lives, and things about them. If she were questioned she was most likely to know more about you then you know about yourself. She knows everything
Ellie would go so far just to be closer to you, that's why she got a job at that local coffee shop you, oh so love. Fuck I know about making cappuccinos- is that what you call them? Who knows.
And Ellie has 'known' you for less than 2 weeks now. And what I mean by “‘known’” I mean not a single word exchanged between the two of you.
Tumblr media
"So uhh, what can I get ya?" she asks the customer in front of her. Ellie itch's the back of her neck in both nervousness and confusion on how to make a single drink. Coffee or drinks were not Ellie's strong suit, making them, l'lI make that clear, Ellie loves a good drink. On the topic of drinks, Ellie knows what drink you usually order, it's simple, but Ellie did spend a whole week in her little apartment learning how to make it, mastering it.
"Hi, yes can I get a plain black coffee with sugar?"
Ellie couldn't wait for when you'll come around so she could take your order, and here your voice, it was like angels were singing in her ears, blessing her with their grace—
"excuse me" the woman interrupted Ellie's train of thoughts.
"Sorry, what was it that you wanted?" She asked again.
"Black coffee with sugar." She repeated her order, slightly annoyed.
“Name?”
“Bailey”
"Cash or credit?" Ellie typed up that order on the screen before her.
"Credit" the woman answered. She takes out her wallet and pulls out a black card. She looked back at Ellie who was already holding the card machine. The woman tapped her card, it approves. Ellie puts down the machine and asks the woman:
"Would you like a check for that or not?"
"No thank you”
"Coming right up then!" A shaky, and a pretty fake laughter leaves Ellie's mouth. The woman looked at her as if Ellie had just asked her where she lives. But she wouldn't have to do that; she could just find that with the knowledge of her name and possibly last name. Creepy or not that is to think, it was the truth, Ellie could find basically anyone's location by just knowing their name.
On the outside Ellie looked and seemed like such a sweet and nice person, and she is, but she’s also an obsessive psycho who stalks girls because she is in love with them. But she is in love with you, like real and genuine love. She might not really know you as a person, your personality and stuff, but she knows who you are. If she wasn’t such a loser she’d already have your phone number, but she’s too scared to talk to you so that led to her to stalk you. On the internet you were this sweet and innocent girl, but we’re you like this in real life? What if you're like a sex addict who has the kinkiest kinks? Or you could be a serial killer, but you don’t look like the type. Neither does Ellie but…
Anyway
Ellie watched the woman walk over to a table and sit. And Ellie started on her order.
Black coffee with sugar, wait—shit i didn’t ask her how much sugar she wanted, fuck me. Should I go ask her? No, don’t be weird just put in some? But how much is some?
She grabbed a cup—
Did she want it hot or cold? Did I not ask her that, fuuck.. I assume she wants it hot? It is chilly outside so that makes sense, right?
—she poured in the hot coffee from the pot, set it on the black counter and grabbed the sugar. Ellie wasn’t sure how much to add so, she closed her eyes and just poured some.
Was that too much? Or not enough? I don’t fucking know sigh. Shit i should’ve written her name on the cup first… wait what was her name? Jesus, I'm so stupid.
Ellie had a sharpie in her hand while the other one was holding the hot cup of coffee. was it Veronica or Bailey, no no no what the fuck was it? Ummm… Bailey that was her name yeah, maybe, i don’t know.
Baeliy she wrote on the cup. Is that how you spell it? Or is it b-a-i-l-e-y fuck I’m messing this up. You know what, it’s not my fault it’s my first day here give me a break, man.
She walked over to the drink drop area and yelled out “Bailey” the woman walked up to Ellie, Ellie handed her the cup and waited for a look of approval. The woman quickly examined the cup and noticed her name was spelled wrong, her eyes rolled. She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip and just walked away.
Walked away and not even going to say anything? Bitch.
Ellie also rolled her eyes and got back to work. She wiped down the counter she was just at because, well, it wasn’t dirty but it didn’t look clean either. The wet rag swayed side to side, left then right and then left again and then right, left right left right left right left right left right—
Ring ring, the bells at the door ring, letting Ellie know that another customer has entered the coffee shop. She turned around and saw a girl bag around her shoulder, and a bright smile on her face…
It was you.
You walked in letting the clear glass door behind you close, walking up to order your usual. You looked so good today, so beautiful, gorgeous, just radiating of happiness, and joy. And your eyes, fuck you look good. The way your clothes fitted you just perfectly, and the way you kept that bright and shiny smile as you walked up to Ellie. The girl is too mesmerized, not being able to take her eyes away from your face, from you.
Shit. “What can I get you” don’t be weird don’t be weird don’t be—
“Can I get a chai tea with oat milk?” That smile is still stuck on your face.
“Uhh… yeah-sure of course!” Ellie just say yes, you don’t need to say all the words of agreement, fuck. “Anything else?” Stop speaking like that, be a normal fucking human being.
You giggle at Ellie’s nervousness because you thought it was cute that she was breaking into a sweat just by saying a few words. “And a scone, please.” You hand reached into your bag to take your wallet out. Ellie types up your order on the screen.
Does she want it hot or cold? I should ask her right? Yeah I should.
“Umm would you like that hot or cold?” Am I sweating? Shit be normal Ellie don’t be weird.
“Hot please” you answered, passing Ellie your card. She took it and examined it for a second. It was a dark blue, maybe navy blue I don’t know. It had your name on it but Ellie didn’t pay any attention to that because she already knows your name, she saw it written on a cup just about 2 weeks ago when she first laid eyes on you. And with that she found your instagram, and then everything else she needed.
Ellie taped your card and it was approved. Ellie passed it back to you and watched you put it back into your wallet and then shove that into your bag. You gave Ellie a little smile before walking over to the drink pick up area, is that what it's called?
How do I make chai tea? Come on, you know this. Ellie already had some boiled water, so Ellie brewed the tea. One tablespoon or two? I think one is good, right? She put the tea in a tea strainer and poured the hot water through it. She let the tea sit as she went over to the small fridge that was under the counter, she opened the door and took out some oat milk and brought it with her to the counter. Ellie poured the milk into a milk frother is that what it’s called? and warmed the milk up. Once the milk was warm enough Ellie took the milk frother thingy by the handle and poured it into the cup with tea. Was that too much milk? It looks waaaay to white. Ellie put the lid on the cup and went to get the scone you ordered. She walks into the back to get the ‘freshly baked’ scone. She got a scone and walked out of the storage unit to put the scone inside a little baggy. Ellie put the scone down and grabbed a sharpie and wrote your name on the cup with her best handwriting also making sure not to misspell your name.
Ellie grabbed the cup full of tea and the scone, and brought it over to you. Ellie said your name quietly but just enough for you to hear. You flashed Ellie another smile and took the cup of tea and your scone from her, brushing your fingers on her hand accidentally. Omg did she just touch me? Omg omg omg act calm, act calm. You took a sip from your tea and looked at the sharpie marks, “how did you know my name?”
Fuck fuck fuck fuck why did I do that, shit. Think of something come on make up an excuse or something fuck—
“your card, I saw your name on your credit card” that was so fucking close.
“Oh hehe, right” you laughed at Ellie a bit, you thought it was very cute how nervous she got and how red her face is from just being around you, even though the two of you don’t even know each other. Well you don’t know Ellie, but she knows you.
You walked away from Ellie to go and take a seat at an empty table in the back corner of the coffee shop. Ellie was so glad she had the night shift because if you decided to go home, she needed to make sure you got back safe. Ellie served a few more customers watching you the whole time, she was glad you sat with your back facing her so you wouldn’t catch her staring at you.
Since this was the last shift before the shop was closing, it was Ellie’s responsibility to clean up and do everything she needs to do before leaving. She cleaned up all the counters and the floor. Cleaned the tables and moved all the chairs in. And did some other things that I won’t bother naming.
The clock hit 8:30 pm Ellie’s shift was over. She walked into the back to change out of her uniform and get her stuff. What if she left already? Ellie walked out from the back and saw that you were packing up your stuff. She pretended that she was still doing something so she wouldn’t look suspicious or anything. You put your computer into your bag and hung it around your shoulder just like you had it when you first came in. You throw out your garbage and smile at Ellie for what was it now the fifth time? “Goodnight” you said to her. The girl swore that she saw stars when she heard your voice. Jesus, fucking Christ.
“Goodnight to you too!” Ellie said nonchalantly, why did I sound like that AGAIN. You giggle once more before walking out the door and going home. And as soon as you were out of sight Ellie ran to the clear door to go after you, making sure to lock the door behind her. And followed you home. But not in a stalker way, no Ellie would never, to make sure you got home safe. Ellie knew that you lived very close; it was about a 5 minute walk. And she knew that you probably would be okay to walk home alone, but she wasn’t going to take any chances, Ellie needs you to be safe, and to get home safely.
Ellie followed you, head down to the ground, and only looked up every now and then making sure that you wouldn’t see her. You were walking so fucking clueless not even realizing or noticing that someone was following you.
You turned the corner of the street you were just walking on, now being on your street, you could practically see your apartment building from where you were walking. Ellie didnt turn the corner right away so you wouldn't see her, giving you just a few seconds to walk ahead of her for the perfect distance between you and her. So that if you were to be abducted Ellie could be your prince in armor and save you from the dangers of New York city at night.
No one will touch you, baby, I'm here..I’ll keep you safe.
Ellie turns the corner and you're 10 or less feet in front of her, with your headphones on listening to— what is she listening to? Gonna have to find her spotify. Must be something good if she is this fucking clueless. You just walked like that the rest of the way home, with a stalker on your ass.
As you were about to walk up the steps of the building, Ellie happened to step on some very crunchy leaves that fell from the tree above her. Fuck.
Thank whoever, that the said tree was thick enough for Ellie to hide behind. Don’t come over here, don't come over here, don’t please turn around and go home. And maybe you heard Ellie’s thoughts, but you turned back around and went up the steps. Thank you, thank you. Ellie was in full panic, blood racing through every vain in her body at the speed of light, her heart was jumping around in her chest, it was like she just had a stroke, and maybe she did. Ellie peeked from the tree, making sure you didn’t see her and weren’t standing right next to her.
And you weren’t. Ellie quickly ran across the street of your apartment and stood right behind a bush, not that it would hide her or anything, it's like 2 feet tall, and I mean Ellie ain’t a giant but you could definitely see her. But you’re also so naive and blind that you wouldn't notice her. And ellie could honestly care less about being caught right now because what normal person lives in New York on the first floor with a big fucking window, no curtins or anything. The first time Ellie saw that window she wanted to just take you to live with her, but you'd probably never want to see her again if someone you just met asks you to live with them. But Ellie also was thinking of kidnapping you, but maybe that's a little too much for you. Not for Ellie though, this wasn't her first rodeo…
You laid your bag down onto your couch, doing the same with your jacket. You took your headphones off and threw them onto your couch right before you plop down on it. You looked tired, very tired from what Ellie could see.
Aw poor, baby, you look so tired. if i were there right now i would take such good care of you. Draw you a bath, make you some food, and put you to sleep, and cuddle you while you fall asleep. Ellie’s eyes were closed, picturing how she’d take care of you, and be there for you, and with you, all. day. long. As Ellie finally opened her eyes, she saw that you stood up from your couch, where are you going, uh? You put your hands at the hem of the shirt you're wearing and pulled it over your head, now only leaving you in a bra and pants.
Fuck me, again.
You look so beautiful, naked like that. No one can see you like this, only me, me you hear me. only me.
And this was the reason Ellie thought that you should have curtains, so creeps like herself couldn't look at a practically naked girl through her window. You itch your stomach, you grab a shirt that was laying right next to you on the couch and put it on. Ellie lets out a sight to your actions, but, your hands reach under your shirt and to then back, you unclip your bra clasp, and pull your bra from underneath your shirt throwing it onto your floor. Ellie could see the outline of your boobs, and your perky nippels. As you moved around on the couch Ellie could see your tits move, and that was when one of her hands reached down to unbutton her jeans. As she's about to shove her hand down her underwear, Ellie hears a door behind her open—
Shit, I forgot that someone lives here.
There was another apartment building just like yours right across the street, where Ellie was standing, thankfully her back was turned towards the building so no one could see what she was about to do, or has been doing for the past 2 weeks. Ellie quickly did her pants back up and turned around to see who came out of the building. It was a woman, an elderly one, she looked about mid-60s, gray hair, and some random clothes Ellie didn't pay much attention to. The woman was holding quite a lot of things, so why not help her. “Here, let me” Ellie offered to help the woman, and she accepted, Ellie stepped onto the porch. The woman gave Ellie her bags and slowly made her way down the stairs.
Once the woman made it to the sidewalk Ellie gave her her bags and then the woman thanked Ellie for helping her, and watched as the elderly woman walked away.
What was this the 10th time Ellie almost got caught doing something she shouldn't be doing. Opp your fucking game, do better. You can't get caught. Not like you almost did last time…
Tumblr media
Ellie took her time getting home, she probably should’ve gotten an uber because it was freezing outside, but she had to think about today and debrief all of her thoughts. Today was definitely not Ellie’s first time almost being caught, but she was glad it was an old grandma and not anyone who could probably see what she was doing, that came out of the building.
The walk home was at least a 30 minute walk. What if she saw me? She did all that on purpose, changing in front of the window, showing herself off to me. Ellie was way too delusional, thinking you were some kind of slut for her, that you wanted her so bad— Ellie, she doesn't even know who you are, just stop. “So fucking stupid…” she whispers to herself. She doesn’t know who you are. Repeated on a loop in Ellie’s mind. She, doesn’t, know, who, you, are. But you will, if not sooner than later.
When Ellie was coming up to her apartment building her thoughts were a mix of: she wants me and only me, and don't be stupid you’ve talked to her once. Like I said before, Ellie is delusional.
She opened the door to the building and walked in closing the door. She walked up the stairs to the 5th floor where she lives. Ellie could never live on the first floor with a big ass window, it would be too much, she cherishes her personal space. It would be like she's asking for attention, asking for people to look through her window, to watch her. She couldn’t possibly handle that, she’d be far too uncomfortable with someone stalking her. But if it's the opposite, it doesn’t matter right? I’m not being too weird am i?
Ellie takes out the key to her apartment and puts it into the keyhole, twisting it side to side getting the door unlocked. She walked in and again, closed the door behind her. Ellie throws her keys on to the kitchen counter. She takes off her hoodie and throws it on the couch. It was almost 10 pm by the time Ellie got home. She walked to the bathroom to go brush her teeth. I should probably take a shower, nah i'll do it tomorrow. As Ellie brushed her teeth she was thinking about you, but who else would she be thinking about if not you? Particularly she was thinking about how you looked without a shirt, the way your body looked practically naked. That got Ellie thinking how you would look completely naked?
When Ellie finished brushing her teeth, she spit out the toothpaste that was in her mouth. She walked out of the bathroom turning the lights off. She walked into her room and fell back first onto her bed. All that was circling through her mind was the thought of you naked, not just naked, being naked for her. How your body would move so gently just for her.
Fuuuck
Ellies hands moved down to her pants once again, unbuttoning them slowly. She pulled them off of her legs throwing the pair of jeans onto the floor.
How your hands would travel all around your body, over your tits pinching your own nipples. “All that fr’me?” Ellie chuckled to herself like she’s mentally ill.
She pulled her underwear off and also threw those on the floor somewhere next to her jeans. Ellie smooths a finger over her folds, slightly hitting her clit. She brings her finger to her socked entrance, teasing her pussy.
Ellie was thinking about her hands all over your body, you arching to her touch and letting out whines just because she was touching you “ya like that huh, baby?” Ellie grins to herself. Crazy bitch. It doesn't get more delusional than this, does it? She slowly inserted her finger into her wet pussy, and then slowly pulled it out. And then again, in and out at a very slow pace. Light movements with Ellie’s wrist, pumping in and out of her cunt.
More and more thoughts of your naked, beautiful body float up in Ellies mind, and her hand speeds up. “Fuuck—mmhh…shit, yes, baby ju—uhhh” a moan exhales from ellie. “Just like that, yes, yes, good—FUCK!” Ellie speeds up even more now. “—good girl” she finally finished her sentence.
Her eyes are squeezed shut, only thinking of you, and your naked body, that she’s never seen. Ellie was imagining that it was your fingers inside of her. Ellie speeds up her fingers even more, and she quickly adds in a second finger. Hitting that sweet spot inside of her. Ellie could feel her orgasm getting closer and closer with every thrust for her fingers. And every time she hit her g-spot. This feeling was building up at the pit of her stomach, getting tighter and tighter with every movement of her fingers.
“Shit—uhh fuck, come on, baby..” ellie lets out more moans. Moan after moan leaving from her throat, with your name at the end of each, said so softly. “Yes..yes..yeahuhhh…ohh—” there it was, that feeling in the pit of her stomach now completely gone. Ellie slowly fucked herself through her high, slowing down her pace with every thrust. “God dammit..fuck” the girl was out of breath. Ellie removed her hand and looked down at it, ”Jesus, look at what ya did to me, baby…” she prayed out for you.
This wasn't the first time Ellie has gotten off to the thoughts of a girl, but it was the first time it felt like this. This was so life altering,—
Bet it would be better if you were actually the one inside of me…
—so heavenly, so good. Ellie couldn’t get enough, she needed you, wanted you to be hers. And you were going to be hers. Only hers. So maybe next time she won't be getting off to the thought of you, but with you getting her off.
She was going to make you hers, she’ll make sure of it.
Tumblr media
an2: guys idk how to write smut this is so bad wtf??
taglist: @ellslvr @tatestitties @mourningdovee @rootsofhood @lawofblla @zoehxnji @brunettedolls-blog @bready101 @aouiaa @satellitespinner @xinyaya @macaroni676 @findmeunderoceanblvd @slaysksmska @chrry1ovr @vqxen @bellaramseysgirlfriend @iamaboringrattat @p4ison1vy @everybodyhatesari
It wouldn’t let me tag some people, so if you asked to be tagged and I didn’t tag you that’s why.
662 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 3 months
Note
Omg! I saw that fic you wrote based on friends tv series and i love it! Its so freaking cute!! Reading that fic remind me of another scene of friends tv series if you dont mind writing it?
Where chandler is having a bath and everyone just comes in at one point and start having conversations in the bathroom.
Maybe reader is like the therapist of the group and everyone wants her opinion on smtg and while reader is taking a bath, one by one just starting to enter and start having conversations with her and the rest until one of marauders (reader’s bf) start shooing everyone out so reader could have a peaceful bath?
i changed this a teeny bit, i'm sorry! but i've never seen friends so i think that's okay
--
"Y/N," Sirius is the first to interrupt your warm bath with James, meant to soothe his sore muscles after Quidditch practice, and lull you to sleep against his chest. Thankfully, James has poured a liberal amount of strawberry bubble bath into the water, so there's foam up to your necks.
"What's'a matter, Pads?" James answers for you while you try clearing the almost-sleep from your brain, but the man scoffs at him.
"Prongs, no offence, but I need help with makeup. And you're the last person in this castle I'd come to for that."
Before James can make an affronted retort, you pipe up, smoothing a soothing hand on James's thigh beneath the bubbles, "What do you need, Sirius?"
"Black or blue liner?" He shows off his outfit, then the two eyeliner pens in his hand.
"Black," You decide with a wrinkled nose, "Blue doesn't match your earrings."
"Thanks," Sirius grins, tossing the blue pen onto the counter and leaving with the black one, "Oh-! Sorry, Rem, go ahead."
Just when you'd been about to settle back against James's chest, Remus steps in, clearly having run into Sirius on the way out. James groans, but Remus incurs less of his wrath than Sirius often does, the price of becoming siblings as well as brothers.
"I left The Nightingale on your bed," Remus informs you, "Can I take Falling Leaves?"
"The smaller one," You nod, "Not the special edition. Sorry, Rem, I know you're careful, but I can't afford a chocolate stain on it."
He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but he'll respect your wishes. After all, he's careful in lending out special editions of his books, too.
"Thanks, Y/N!"
"Remus," James calls at the retreating form of his friend, "Do me a favor: close the door behind you!"
Remus does so, and James hooks an arm around your waist beneath the suds. It's warm and slightly pruned, and you sink into it gladly, reclining once more against his bare chest.
"Now that that's over," He gripes, his hand travelling below your waist, fingers hooking into the pudge of your thighs, "We could..."
"Don't even think about it," You pinch his thigh, just above the dome of his kneecap, ignoring his yelp in response, "This bath is to fix your sore muscles, not make new ones."
"I'm fine," James insists, burrowing his nose into the nape of your neck where fine droplets of water cling to your wispy hairs, "Please, darling, I swear I can-"
"Y/N?" Lily calls, the sweet tone of her voice matching the strawberry scent heavy in the air, "I know you're bathing, I'm sorry, but it'll only take a moment."
James holds his breath, but you use yours to call, "Come in, Lily," And he releases his in a scoff, fingers finally abandoning your thigh.
"I was just wondering if I could borrow your green sweater," Lily hums, politely avoiding any eye contact with James's muscled shoulders as he drapes his arms over the sides of the bathtub.
"G'head, babe," You smile sweetly at her, "You going to Hogsmeade?"
"The whole dorm is," She nods excitedly, "You wanna join?"
You consider it despite James's hand plunging back into the water and latching tight to your hip. Finally you decide, "No, but I might end up joining you if James can't learn to keep his hands to himself."
"Hey!" He tears his hand away from you once more, spilling water over the side of the tub when he finds purchase against the edge, "If you keep letting people barge in here, we won't be able to do anything anyways."
"Excellent point," You nod thoughtfully, and James's exasperated groan brings a smile to Lily's face that she shares giddily with you, "Lily, if you happen to see Professor McGonagall on your way over, send her in."
893 notes · View notes
withleeknow · 25 days
Text
rue de rivoli.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: hyunjin x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, semi edited lol, a little sappy and very self indulgent and inspired by a very specific instance in that one hyunjin vlog in japan 🤷‍♀️ word count: 0.9k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / masterlist / ko-fi
Tumblr media
hyunjin might be the worst - and you mean it, the worst - travel partner.
it’s all because of that ridiculously expensive camera of his and the little hobby that he’s taken up on.
“hey,” he calls out softly, trailing a few steps behind you as he raises the camera up to his face again. “hold it right there.”
you huff out a breath in mild annoyance, blowing some hair away from your face as the air escapes from your lips.
“seriously? you’ve taken a gazillion pictures already. this is the third time you’ve made me stop in the past thirty minutes.”
“but the lighting is just perfect.”
“we’re only here for a few days! i can’t see all the places i wanna see if you keep making me stop every two seconds!”
it was cute at first, how he kept asking you to stop in the middle of the street to snap a photo of you. it made you blush every time he did, because he would take another brief moment to admire the final product on his camera’s display screen and tell you that even though the photo turned out great, it could never truly capture how beautiful you are through his eyes. then he’d press a kiss to your cheek or a swift peck to your lips before taking your hand and tugging you along, en route to the tourist attractions that you’ve yet to come across.
to be fair, it’s still cute, and despite your feeble irritation, you still let hyunjin take his photos every time he asks. mostly because he would start sporting a gigantic pout on his face, coupled with the way his eyes widen like a puppy begging for a treat.
“please? you look so pretty right now. pleaseee?”
you acquiesce - of course you do - because who can say no to a cute whiny hyunjin?
you roll your eyes half-heartedly, and a bright grin immediately spreads on his lips because he knows that he’s getting what he wants, the smile so brilliant that it brings out his whisker dimples and turns his eyes into adorable crescent moons.
he patters over to you on light footsteps once the shot has been snapped, proudly showing you his handy work even though you secretly think it looks the same as any other photo of you that he’s taken - sometimes it’s your side profile with your hair covering half of your face because you’re too awkward to look directly at the camera, sometimes it’s you in random poses because you’re never sure what to do with your hands while getting your picture taken.
“did you even take any photos of the scenery?”
hyunjin shrugs, pretty indifferent to your question. “yeah, a few.”
“a few? give me that, let me see... you’ve taken two hundred and sixty four photos so far and only a few are of freaking paris?!”
another shrug, then cue one of the corniest things he’s ever said to you in your entire life. “you’re prettier than paris.”
sure, it’s a massively cliché thing to say, and a teeny bit cringeworthy to hear if this were a sappy romance movie. but coming from him, you know the sentiment is entirely genuine because hyunjin is nothing if not one of the sincerest people you know.
it makes you short-circuit as you stare up at him. the sun behind him softens by a fraction as it starts to make its descent, and the slowly fading sunlight looks as though it’s found a home as his personal halo. to have someone as beautiful as him tell you that you’re prettier than the city of love itself is quite honestly a little surreal, no matter how long you’ve been together.
“that was the cheesiest shit ever,” you comment, pretending to gag but knowing perfectly well that he can see the rosy flush on your cheeks. you mutter something else - for good measure - along the lines of never going on a trip with him again.
hyunjin laughs that endearing signature laugh of his, then he twists the cap back on the camera lens and once again lets the device dangle from the strap around his neck. he pulls you toward him with ease and kisses you deeply with a smile on his lips, one that’s warmer than the parisian sun could ever hope to be.
no, hyunjin isn’t a great travel partner. yes, mostly because he takes up all of your time trying to take pictures of you instead of letting you freely wander to the spots that you’d spent a lot of time bookmarking on google maps beforehand. he might be the worst person you’ve gone on a trip with because when you’re travelling, you like to be productive with your time and be able to do everything you set out to do in the limited number of days you have.
but even then, maybe it’s not that terrible having to miss watching the sunset in front of the eiffel tower because more exquisite than all of the most renowned artworks displayed in the louvre and more enchanting than any view you can spot from montmarte is your hyunjin that you adore, who’s kissing you in the middle of a street which name you can’t even pronounce.
any irritation you had from before slowly melts away. you don’t even care (that much) that you’re in the city of love.
any city is love when you’re with him.
(even when he messes up your travel plans sometimes.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki (italicized = can’t tag)
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 04.03.2024]
459 notes · View notes
hufflepuffwitchhh · 11 months
Text
made your mark on me {sebastian sallow x f!reader}
hihi this is the buff seb post-Azkaban fic i promised anon and also possibly @ask-deek lmao
summary: sebastian was taken to prison ten years ago. now he's back, and he's ripped, goddamn
yes all of my titles are going to be taylor swift lyrics i did it as a joke but i don't think it's a joke anymore (also speak now tv, what!!!)
you can tell i got bored after writing the smut bc i did not try to end this properly lmao also i never edit my fics so apologies for the mess, reader is mc but you can ignore it 💀
tws: smut, rough sex (kinda?) p in v sex, handjobs, size kink size kink size kink, muscle kink, creampie, teeny tiny bit of spanking, i think i kinda accidently did a dumbification moment in there too but who knows (i think thick seb is my new kink thanks anon)
The last time you had seen Sebastian Sallow, it was through a haze of tears as he'd been ripped away from you, quite literally.
The chains on his wrists had pressed into the back of your head as he'd pulled you close, pressing desperate kisses to your mouth. Making promises to you that you would see him again, that he'd return to you.
It was heartbreaking, in many ways. After all your efforts to save him from Azkaban, begging Anne and Ominis to let him to continue to live with the guilt, so that you could continue to live with him.
All that work, to be undone by Solomon Sallow's former partner, who just couldn't leave well enough alone.
Sebastian got a life sentence. Your testimony, speaking about how Solomon Sallow had arrived at the catacomb and immediately started casting dangerous spells against two fifteen year olds, got him the possibility of parole.
You and Ominis doubted he would ever be given it, but it was something.
-
After Sebastian was taken from you, you wrote him a letter every day and sent it to the Department of Corrections at the Ministry. They were all returned to you, with the same scripted response. 
'We thank you for your correspondence, but regret to inform you that those serving life tariffs in Azkaban do not get postal privileges. Please find attached the letter you requested to be delivered to Mr. Sebastian Sallow.'
Well, you weren't going to tolerate that.
After everything you'd done for the school, the Ministry, the entire fucking Wizarding World, they were not going to refuse you a few measly letters.
After raising a significant fuss, which included one incident of you outside Headmaster Black's office, absolutely hammered on Firewhiskey, screaming about how you deserved to be able to write to him (and also as Poppy told you later, lots of rambling about human rights and the ethics of withholding contact from prisoners), the Ministry relented. Slightly.
You could write Sebastian a letter once a week. He would receive it and be able to keep it, guaranteed. But that was it. He was not, and would not, be permitted to write back.
And so, you set about writing.
You tried to make your first few letters as wholesome and happy as possible. Talking about the good things going on, and reassuring that while you all missed him, you were all okay.
That only lasted about two months.
You came to hate the idea that he would receive these half-truth letters, meant to inform him of what was happening in your life, and think that you were all doing fine and dandy without him.
You do feel bad about how drastic the tonal shift of the next letter must have been for him.
You poured your heart out onto the page, hemorraghing your feelings in the form of scratchy inky words. You told him how you missed him, how Ominis rarely smiled anymore, how the Undercroft had been empty since he left, how Anne had retreated and none of you could get hold of her. It might have been a hard read, but it was the truth, and that was what Sebastian had always wanted above all.
You kept writing all through your last years of Hogwarts, through the start of moving into your first home, starting your new job, getting a cat.
The Ministry refused to give any information on a prisoner's status unless they were family. That was all well and good once Anne eventually returned.
When she died, it meant you had no way of checking on Sebastian anymore.
You kept writing all the same. You tried not to think about the fact that he could have died in that awful place, and you would never know. You tried not to think about the fact that you may be writing to a corpse.
-
When you're twenty six, Ominis stops by for a cup of tea. This isn't unusual. The two of you have a standing weekly tea break, where you discuss your lives and Ominis gives you all the shameless gossip from his colleagues in the Department of Magical Texts.
What is unusual, is that Natty crashes your afternoon tea.
Natty, as expected from your brave Gryffindor friend, went on to live a life of risk and adventure post-Hogwarts, becoming an Auror.
You're both surprised to see her, but pleased as well, though the news she brings makes your head spin.
Sebastian is set for a parole hearing.
The news overwhelms you, and you half listen while Natty talks. Not only was Sebastian still alive, but there was a chance.
Ominis wonders why, and Natty explains what she heard. Based on Sebastian's young age at the time, the fact that Solomon came out swinging, and the good behaviour Sebastian had shown during his incarceration, they were willing to consider early release.
When you get home that night, you make a final edit to this week's letter. You add your address at the bottom, and let him know you always keep a key under the light to the left of the door.
-
You hear nothing for weeks. That's not new though.
-
You return home from work, absolutely exhausted.
Flicking the hallway light on as you enter your home, you're surprised to see that the door to your kitchen is wide open. That's not usual. Your cat is relentless in trying to eat anything she can, and so the kitchen door is always, always closed.
Taking your wand from your pocket, you approach slowly, heart pounding in your chest. As you enter the kitchen, said heart stops.
There's a man sat at your dining table, and your traitorous cat is asleep in his lap.
"Whatever you've fed her to have her like you so, I will be sending you to the market to replace."
You tease.
The man looks up, and for the first time in over a decade, you are staring into Sebastian Sallow's eyes.
-
The concern you had for his health has disappeared. Somehow, time in Azkaban looks good on him. It was actually sort of impressive.
He had always been taller than you, but when he shifts your displeased cat and stands before you, you realise he now towers over you.
And you have no clue what they're feeding them in Azkaban, but he has put on muscle. A lot of muscle. You think that if a muggle saw him, they would probably think he played rugby.
He also, most importantly, has still not spoken.
Sebastian stands as if he is a statue, some carved marble piece representing the Adonis he looks like now. His eyes are locked on yours.
He finally speaks.
"I promised I'd come back to you."
He paused a second, doubt in his eyes.
"Is this okay?"
He opens his mouth to continue speaking, and you're in his arms before he can, and you're sobbing.
"I thought you were dead for so long, and I've missed you so much."
You're on your tiptoes so you can grip his face and press kisses to his face, and he has a hand in your hair, one on your back, and he's laughing giddily, and you don't think you've felt this happy since before he was taken from you.
He wraps his arms under your backside and lifts you so he can hold you against him properly, and all you can think is that it is very attractive to feel his well-built body against yours.
You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, using him as leverage to lean back and look in his eyes.
Sebastian smiles at you, and you are entranced by the way his freckles move with the action.
"Is it too forward to ask you if I can take you to bed?"
It is not.
-
Sebastian has you pressed against the bed five minutes later, and he is kissing you like he does not need oxygen, he merely needs you.
You unbutton his shirt slowly, running your hands over his broad shoulders as you push his shirt off of his torso. He pulls away from you, gasping for air as he pulls your blouse over your head.
You kiss against his jaw as he nips at your neck, leaving marks as he trails a path down to your shoulder.
You don't mind. Everyone's always been able to see you were his anyway. It's just further proof of the fact.
He takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it, as you arch, and whine, and desperately pull at his belt.
Sebastian's hands find your hips, pulling your skirt and underwear down as he trails his fingers down your thighs.
You finally undo his damned belt and get him as equally naked as you. The sight stops you in your tracks.
Sebastian is tall, and built, and proportionate. His cock is lengthy and thick, and intimidating.
You've been bedded before, but they have never been as... impressive as Sebastian clearly is.
He puts a finger beneath your chin, lifting your head to look in your eyes.
"What's wrong?"
You flush.
"I don't think...  I will be able to take that."  You speak quietly.
Sebastian rolls his lips together, clearly amused and pleased at what he is taking as a compliment, and you slap his arm playfully.
"This is not funny!"
He kisses you, trying to soothe your concerns.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to, but if you do, I can make sure you're properly prepared for me. Trust me."
You trust him.
You nod.
Sebastian's big hand leaves your chin, running down your body to move between your thighs. He slids a thick finger against your slit, gathering the wetness there.
"Shall we give you my fingers, before we try you on my cock?"
You nod dazedly.
His thumb finds your clit, and his fingertip enters you. You move your hips in a desperate attempt to force his finger in further, and he slaps the outside of your thigh. Not hard enough to hurt properly, but enough to sting for a second after.
"Behave. You will take what I give you. And if you want me to give you more, you know what you need to do."
You do know.
"Please, Sebastian, please, I need you, I need your fingers, please."
He groans at your words, speeding up the movement of his thumb against your clit as the rest of his finger slides in.
A moment later, he pushes in another, and you whine at the stretch. Another moment, another finger. You have never felt anything like this. He makes a scissoring motion with his fingers as he presses down with his thumb, and you are gone, crying his name as you go.
When you come back to your senses, his fingers are still inside you, but his other hand is running over your hair comfortingly.
"We can stop. But if you don't want to stop, do you think you're ready to take me?"
You nod, and he smiles at you. It's funny, considering he's a convicted murderer, but you've never felt so safe. You're aware that's probably a thought you should keep to yourself though.
He stands from the bed, and you groan at the loss of his body. He laughs at your neediness, before gripping your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed so your legs hang off.
Grabbing your ankles, he pushes your legs up over his shoulders as he leans forward, bending you almost in half. His cock rubs against your slit and you moan.
"Are you ready for me?"
You nod again, you don't think you've been more ready for anything.
He pumps himself, using your wetness still on his hand and his own pre-cum to make sure he's properly lubricated, before he pushes inside you deliciously slowly.
You gasp at the stretch of his length, and though you trust him, part of you still thinks you may not be able to take him fully. He bottoms out inside you a second later, hips presses against yours, to prove you wrong.
Now that the initial obstacle of you taking him is dealt with, he is ruthless. His hands find the dip of your waist, and he uses his hold on you to pull you back and forth on his cock relentlessly.
You'd probably feel a touch used if you weren't loving the way it felt as well.
One of your hands buries itself in his hair, and you grip hard to pull his face to yours, biting at his lip while your other hand leaves scratches down his back.
You watch the muscles in his arms move as he moves you, the veins in his forearms becoming prominent from the tightness of his grip. You'll definitely have bruises tomorrow in the shape of his hands. You can't wait to see them.
One of his hands leave your waist to return to your clit, and the other pulls you fully flush against the base of his cock, before sliding around under your back to lift your hips slightly. He begins thrusting into you wildly, and you can tell he's close, but with the new angle, all you can think about is the spot inside he's slamming into again and again, and before you know it, your cunt is gripping him like a vice as you climax, practically screaming.
The feeling makes him groan, and he somehow speeds up even more, before you feel him release inside you as he lets out a 'fuuuuuuck'.
You stay connected for a moment, before he pulls out of you and falls back onto your bed, tugging you with him to rest on his toned, freckled chest, pressing languid kisses to your mouth.
You definitely have things to talk about. They can wait 'til the morning.
2K notes · View notes
7ndipity · 7 months
Text
Idol Dating Headcanons pt.2
Jungkook x Idol Reader
Warnings: teeny bit suggestive
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! As I said in the pt.1 hcs, I really love this duo sm, I just think they’re so much fun!
Masterlist
Requests are open
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Cameos in each others MVs(like Tae in Hobi's Daydream and More MVs)
Really impromptu duet cover videos that are recorded in your bathroom or the stairwell at music shows because the acoustics are just *chefs kiss
Which only make your fans all the more antsy for an official collab.
Which is coming, eventually. Y’all are just perfectionists who want the song to have just the right vibe.
Proudly carries you photocard in his phonecase for everyong to see.
I could see you going on varity shows together and it’s super cute and sweet, untill the games start. And then y’all get waay too competitive waay too fast.
(I honestly don’t know which would be worse: you vs him, or you and him vs everyone else.*shudders)
On the upside, the fan edits were top notch👍
Oh yeah, watching fan videos together, like try not to laughs, on live would be a semi-regular thing.
“You just laughed! He laughed, right?” “No, I didn’t! I was clearing my throat!”
You regularly post pics of him and Bam with captions like “LOML(jk’s cute too)”
He won’t admit it, but he gets a little jealous when you do collabs, especially if it’s with any of his friends.👀 (You might turn up at rehersals with a few extra hickeys just to remind everyone you’re taken, but that’s bfkgnbgbfjklgn)
Naturally, you’d end up being somewhat close with all the members, but for some reason, I feel like you’d end up being besties with Jin? Cause, of course, you need someone to pick on him with.
Like, y’all hit it off immediately, and Jk’s just sitting there like “Oh God, there’s two of them.”
Misses you so much when either of you are traveling/touring. You absolutely have to video call each other everynight or else he won't go to sleep.
407 notes · View notes
Text
She Missed Me v.2
Hiromi Higuruma
so i did write another version of this, but i like this one a bit better hahaha cus uh... there's penetration lmfao. also i actually edited this one. this one is also on AO3 :)
Tumblr media
established relationship (engaged woooo), pussy eating, Hiromi just being a munch meister, he literally talks to ur pussy like fr, vaginal sex, he talks u thru it, pet names, teeny tiny daddy kink, praise kink, implied cockwarming, soft sex, I guess its cute like if u squint
3.2k
MDNI
Tumblr media
To put it simply, Higuruma is in love with your pussy. He’s so in love with your pussy, actually. 
If he could, he would propose to it the same way he did to you just a few months ago. He will always love you more of course, but he would be more than happy to put it on paper, a loud and proud declaration of just how devoted he is to your cunt. 
The appearance, whether it’s freshly waxed and completely bare, or with a small little landing strip that guides him to the riches that are your slick folds. Or even when the hair is grown out, peach fuzz tickling his face as he gets ready to dive in and devour you. He really doesn’t care what he’ll find when he pulls your panties down. Better yet, when you lift up the cheeky little skirts and dresses you love wearing and showing him that you aren’t wearing any panties at all. Those times admittedly, turn him on to a degree that some may find alarming.
And that’s not all there is to love appearance wise, oh no. Far from it. When his hands finally do trail down and part your thighs, he always has to stop himself from salivating. Oh how he just loves seeing your little clit, adores sucking it into his mouth until it’s engorged and swollen. Watching you whine and cry out because it’s just too much for you to handle. But how can he really stop himself when he knows how good it feels for you (and in these instances, he ignores the self indulgence sucking on your bud provides for himself). It doesn’t stop there either. Seeing your folds glistening after he gets you off from clitoral stimulation alone, the excitement in knowing his tongue is going to add to the mess.
Then there’s the smell. He doesn’t even know how to describe it, but it’s just so invigorating. Not quite sweet but far from sour. A natural redolence that he wishes he can bottle up and spray whenever he needs a fix.
Lastly, there’s the taste. They always say save the best for last, but even he can admit that he can be a glutton. There aren’t enough words on the planet to describe just how much he loves your nectar; a true ambrosia that is incomparable to anything else that has landed on his taste buds. He can spend hours between your thighs, licking and sucking at you like a man who has been stranded at sea for years and is now relishing in something delectable for the first time.
A true amalgamation that makes him savor every look, every sniff, every touch, every taste.
It's nothing short of an obsession. It would be easy to argue that it's borderline sick how much he loves your pussy, but it's an affliction he wishes to never rid himself of.
It’s the only thing on his mind when he’s having a long day at work, information pertaining to the cases of his clients paling in comparison to the thought of having his face buried between your thighs. Physically he’s sitting across from a client, taking notes and nodding but mentally he’s swimming in your essence, drowning himself in your arousal. He's visited many countries and has indulged in many delicacies, picturesque sights and delicious food people would kill to experience as often as he has. Yet, he feels the most solace when he's home with the greatest treasure there is.
When he can finally log off of his computer and make his way home, he knows there’s only one remedy to the drawn out day. Lucky for him, what he needs is always in stock.
The aroma of your cooking hugs his nostrils when he enters the house, but there’s another scent that will provide him with even more ecstasy. After shrugging off his coat and standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his shoulders slump in relaxation when he sees you. A true virtuoso in everything you do, you move around the kitchen with ease, reaching to one of the higher cabinets where some of the many seasonings are. Summer Walker’s voice over the bluetooth speaker prevents you from hearing his footsteps, so he just stares in admiration for a moment. 
Working always finds itself to be fruitful when he has you to come home to. As you bob your head and hum along softly to the song playing he takes a step forward letting his arms encircle your waist, lips brushing along the shell of your ear as he sighs against the softness of your body.
“Hi, ‘Romi,” you say softly, letting your body relax into his touch, melding into him. It’s almost like a reflex, letting your body be cradled by him.
“Hi, baby,” he murmurs, lips moving lower to kiss at the supple skin of your neck, hands pulling you back against him. 
“How was work?” you question.
“Long. So long.” He can admit to himself he’s already a bit hard, cock stirring from the moment he parked in the driveway. Probably even before that if he's being completely truthful. His pants were a bit tight as soon as he left the office. “Need you to help me relax.”
“How?” Now, you aren’t oblivious to the affection he loves showering your cunt with, but hearing him saying it always fans the flames of your arousal. Hearing the man that's always so put together voice aloud his lewd thoughts just always riles you up. “Tell me.”
"You really wanna hear?" A soft chuckle leaves his lips and is buried into your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as his hands dip down to the apex of your thighs. He's never been much of a patient man, letting one thumb brush over your clothed clit. “Need to see her,” he says softly. “Been missing and thinking about her all day.”
The words make you clench around nothing, and you can already feel his hardening cock against your ass. The big shirt of his that you're wearing is no match for his bulge.
“C’mon,” Higuruma mutters, lips still sucking against the sensitive portions of your neck, one hand still working at teasing your clit over the shirt. “I know she missed me too.”
And in the blink of an eye you’re sitting on the couch—cooking dinner abruptly paused—with his head sandwiched between your thighs. The slight stubble from a few days of not shaving tickles, but you don't mind.
You can always tell how his day went from how needy he is. On days he doesn’t find as taxing he always starts with showering the lips on your face with kisses, letting his tongue claim the inside of your mouth. A day like today though, the lips below your waist get attention first. You have no issues with that though, none at all.
A small wet patch sits directly in his line of vision as he lets out a sigh of content. “She’s crying for me,” he mumbles. “Guess she missed me as much as I missed her.”
He inches in closer, letting his nose trail up the length of your clothed slit, moaning as your scent invades his nostrils. Your wetness against the bridge of his nose is just a plus as he makes his way up to your clit. He does it again, just letting his nose nuzzle against your cunt, letting your arousal coat his face, breathing in your scent. Already so pussy drunk and he hasn’t even had a taste yet.
His palms find sanctuary on top of your thighs and squeeze as he continues to let his face hug your cunt, nose brushing against your clit deliciously (and very much deliberately) each time.
“Sh-She did,” you breathe out, chest heaving each time he nuzzles against your sensitive bud. He’s doing it on purpose, just teasing, but you know better than to rush him.
“I can tell, baby.” He looks up, lust filling every space in those negative canthal eyes you adore so much. “Gonna take care of her now, don’t worry.” He pulls the crotch of your underwear aside, eyes filled with merriment when he sees your glistening slit, wet spot having grown since he got comfortable between your legs.
His impatience can never be confused with sloppiness. Without wasting time he flattens his tongue against your slit, coating every single one of his taste buds with your nectar. His greed always makes the movements of his tongue calculated, meticulous. He moans in satisfaction, being able to enjoy this reward for sitting in that stuffy office all day. Tropical vacations are nice, but having his tongue lapping at your cunt provides him with just as much tranquility. There isn't a five star meal that can compare to your taste, the one that he's been addicted to from the very first moment you blessed him by opening up your legs and telling him you've never came from head before.
Boy did he show you. And he showed you again, and again, and again.
A moan leaves your lips as his tongue continues to lick at your folds. You know better than to squirm, having been accused of trying to run from him before, but he never understands just how intense the feeling is. He can eat you every night for weeks and it wouldn't change the pleasure he's able to provide you with.
"Fuck, really needed this today." He doesn’t even care how hard he is, only caring about shoving his tongue as deep as he physically can inside your cunt. He keeps working at you, slurping and sucking, letting his head move from side to side.
"Hi--Hiromi, th-that's s'good."
"Yeah?" His hands grip your plush thighs firmly, keeping you in place as he continues dragging his tongue up and down your slit, teasing at your rings of muscle with the point of his tongue as he does. "God, she's trying to drown me," he chuckles lightly, admiring the slickness of your heat. Swimming has always been one of his strong suits though, so he dives back in with more vigor this time. All the while his nose bumps against your clit, little bud past the point of swollen but there isn’t a chance you’ll tell him to stop.
“Always so fucking good, baby,” he murmurs, giving you momentary reprieve as he plants wet kisses along your inner thighs. You’re able to catch your breath for only a moment, but he’s not done. Far from it. 
Two masterful fingers circle your entrance before pushing their way inside, met with little resistance as his digits are instantly being hugged by your warm walls. “Already squeezing me so tight." His cock throbs as your walls grip his digits. "I just knew she was thinking about me, maybe I should quit working so I can take care of her full time.” You writhe, cunt clenching around his digits as he pushes them in so he’s knuckle deep. He curls them so they brush against that sweet spot inside of you, a whine escaping from your lips. "What do you think of that, baby?"
"Hah—I—"
He presses against your g-spot again, making it hard to speak. "Hm?" He isn’t expecting an answer, just watching your body contort in pleasure. "Want Daddy to take care of this pussy all day, don't you?"
"Ye-Yeah," you whimper out, hips shifting.
"Maybe one of these days, Daddy still has to make money to take care of you," he mumbles, eyeing your clit. “But, let me give her a kiss. Know she missed me the most.”
Your breath catches in your throat when his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking the pearl—his crowned jewel—into his mouth. His grip on your thighs tighten and his cocks throbs in tandem with the pulsing of your cunt as he continues curling his fingers against your g spot. He doesn’t care how loud you moan or how fidgety you are, undeterred from his make out session with your cute little clit. Oh, how much he missed her.
It's impossible to part with someone you've missed when you see them. He only raises momentarily to let his tongue lap at the wetness enveloping his fingers before he’s back on your clit, alternating between hard and soft sucks.
Every moan of his that vibrates against your clit brings the band holding your orgasm closer and closer to snapping. He presses one hand against your stomach, applying more pressure while he sucks your clit harshly, peering up at you as he does. “Come on,” he urges. “Wanna taste more of her, come for me baby. Give it all to me.”
“F-Fuckkk.” Listening to Higuruma’s demands should be one of the ten commandments. His words make you release instantly, catapulting to a plane of pure ecstasy as your walls clamp down around his fingers erratically.
He slowly pulls them out, slurping at the string of wetness that connects his fingers to your cunt. Next he laps up your cum, shamelessly moaning. “Fuck.” He looks down at his cock, desperately straining against his slacks. “I think there’s a little bit more I can do to show how much I missed her,” he says, undoing the button on his slacks. “Let me show you baby.”
Your chest is still heaving from your orgasm, but you lay on your back on the couch as Higuruma swiftly undresses, his slacks, blazer, dress shirt and boxer briefs in a haphazard pile on the floor.
He lays on top of you, lifting up the fabric of your shirt to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. The peak stiffens and you can’t help but moan as his hot tongue swirls around the bud. He kisses the space in between your breasts as his mouth gives your other nipple the same treatment, never one to miss pleasuring every part of your body. As his teeth gently bite down on your nipple, his hand is guiding his stiff cock to your entrance, tip rubbing against your swollen bud.
“Oh.” You writhe beneath him at the combined sensations, the light pain of his teeth along with the overstimulation of your clit, but it’s good, so.good.
“I know, I know baby,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “Need to feel her…”
You nod, desperate to be stretched and filled with his cock, the only one you think about and crave.
He lets the head of his cock brush against your clit again, letting his precome smear over it before he goes down to your slit, a grunt leaving his lips as he makes his way inside. 
And how could he forget to mention the feel of your cunt in his earlier soliloquy. It’s tightness, its warmth, the way your walls have molded to take every single inch of him. Like a hot bubble bath after a demanding day, a cup of hot cocoa on the coldest day of the year, a sweater embroidered with his name on it, he finds comfort and ease when he’s buried deep inside of you.
The soft hairs on his chest brush against your breasts as he lets his weight settle on top of you, hips pressed together as the last inch of his heavy cock finds its home in your warm walls. His cock pulses as you clamp, a practiced song and dance as your arms snake around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist. 
You’re always so warm, lighting up Higuruma from the inside out. The only thing that’s cold is the band of the engagement ring on your finger on the back of his neck, but that iciness is as sweet as ice cream; a reminder that you belong to each other, an alignment of affection and mingling of souls.
“Hiromi,” you pant against his lips, grinding your hips against him. 
“Just give me a minute,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours as his cock throbs again. “God, wish I could just stay like this all day with you.”
Your chest heaves against his as you urge his head closer to yours, capturing his lips in a kiss. The exchange of spit as your tongues slide against each other is amorous as ever, his hand moving up to gently caress the side of your face as the kiss grows more intense.
He starts to move, hips retracting and plunging into you while your lips are still connected. Each thrust is deep, reaching that spot inside of you that makes your legs tremor. But you still cling to him, insistent on having him as close to you as possible.
“God, she’s always sucking me in,” he grits out as his hips drive forward again. It’s a particularly deep thrust, one where you swear you feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock. Yet, it feels so natural, like your body was made just for him to blissfully invade with his girth. “So perfect, so fucking perfect,” he pants out, daring to press his hips evern closer even though he’s already buried to the hilt inside of you. “And she’s mine, you’re mine.”
His lips find yours again as you whine, moaning into his mouth as he continues to roll his hips into you, filling you tenderly with his devotion. 
“Oh—ah—”
“Stay with me, baby.” His thumb grazes the apple of your cheeks as your eyes start to flutter close in the same fashion that your cunt starts to quiver around him. “Need to see that pretty face when you come, please.”
Even with the pleasure threatening to drown you, Higuruma is the lifevest that always keeps you bobbing on the surface. “That’s it,” he says. “Good girl, you’re so close.” He pushes in slowly, feeling his own cock throbbing, imminent release on the horizon. “Fuck.” His hips draw back and roll forward languidly, the sounds of your collective pants and your cunt squelching roaring in his ears.
“Hi—Hiromi—I—” 
“Let me have it.” He rocks into you a final time, a rough thrust that makes your eyes widen, the barest color of your eyes visible around your pupils as you come around him. The far off twinkling stars in your vision are no match for Higuruma’s face that you stay focused on through your orgasm. He stays buried inside you, grunting as your cunt continues to spasm around him. “Did so good for me baby, fuck, I love you.”
“I love you too,” you answer back breathless, willing your shaky legs to stay wrapped around him. “Wanna feel you too,” you mewl.
“Yeah,” he whispers, speeding up his motions, fucking you into an overstimulated state. “Gonna give you all of me, just—fuck.”
His lips crash against yours as he fills you with the torrents of his passion, a stream of white that coats the lining of your walls. His cock twitches as he empties into you, swallowing your moans with his mouth as his pelvis melds with yours. 
Once your lips part his body stays on top of yours like a weighted blanket, providing you with all of the security and comfort that you could possibly need. 
“Hiromi,” you say softly, face flushed, post orgasmic bliss glazing your eyes over. “I need to finish dinner.”
“We can order out,” he answers, burying his face into your neck. Even as his cum starts to leak out, making both of your skin sticky, he keeps his cock lodged in your softness. “Just need to stay with her a little longer.”
139 notes · View notes
see-arcane · 4 months
Text
The Vampyres--The Bones and Blood of the Book
Good news! I’m not dead and the book isn’t either! Just shambling slowly through the wasteland of the publication process. It’s been a bit since I last waved this bloody morsel around. So, consider this a progress report on the state of the novella, the prospective publishing options, and a few other questions that have been bouncing around in the inbox.
EDIT:
I have a website now! For some reason.
It's See Arcane Scribbles.
Smaller Edit:
Got a Spotify too for story soundtrack goodness:
COVERS
First things first—and the first part of a finished book is the cover. Here are some mockups I’ve been juggling, starting with the original placeholder. They’re far from perfect, but I’m proud of what I managed with a fairly skinny graphic art skill set.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
FINISHING, FORMAT, AND FINANCE*
*(OR, THE HEADACHENING)
Copyright: Technically speaking, you have the copyright to your own writing once you put it to paper or screen. But this is somehow a different thing from a legally-binding registered copyright, which everyone declares is a must-have if you want your work to be protected with more than a non-textual trust-fall exercise, hoping nobody steals your work and runs.
That said, electronic registration with the copyright office is $65, or $45 to register one work by one author.
ISBN: I only recently learned the words behind this acronym. ‘International Standard Book Number.’ It’s the ID on a book that marks it as unique and helps commercial booksellers and libraries circulate it. Each iteration of a book—paperback, digital, hardcover, new editions, et cetera—has its own ISBN. When you’re publishing on your own, you purchase ISBNs through a service called Bowker.
One book/version’s ISBN costs $125.
There are better bargains the higher the number of books and/or versions you go, starting at a bulk of 10 books for $295. But as I only have the one (1) skinny novella on the table, that’s a no-go. Which begs the question of how many ISBNs are in store for this little monster. It depends on how many formats I go with.
eBook: The quickest and most cost-efficient option across the board for any self-publication service. Short, sweet, no printing pains of trim sizes or distribution costs or formatting, oh my. Nice.
Paperback VS Hardcover: …But I am now and forever a sucker for physical media. Even though it’s a teeny brochure of a thing, I want to hold a physical copy of The Vampyres in my hands! So bad! And every service I’ve looked through has stated the obvious: Hardcover costs more than paperback. My heart won’t break if I have to stick with paperback to spare everyone’s wallets—hardcovers are pricy in both directions!—but I am a little torn. Especially as physical size might affect the price too.
Here we have two of my favorite quick reads, an anthology of Poe stories and Clive Barker’s novella, The Hellbound Heart.
Tumblr media
The Poe book is a clothbound hardcover. 6.5 x 4.5 inches, a bit over 120 pages.
The Hellbound Heart is roughly 8 x 5 inches (about standard for a novella), at 164 pages. But unlike Poe, it looks like Barker took some liberties with the spacing and font size.
Standard size dimensions cost less than unique cuts, which means that whether paperback or hardcover, I sadly have to say goodbye to the petite palm-sized edition I was hoping for. On the upside, good news to us crap-vision readers—the font’s going to get H U G E in order to make the book more than a pamphlet with delusions of grandeur.
Audiobook: The fact is, my voice is not up to the task of reciting anything with appropriate gravitas and I think we’ve all been spoiled by @re-dracula and assorted other podcasts’ skill in orating. I don’t have the cash to hire a professional and I’m not about to accept anyone’s freebie offers. I won’t pickpocket friends for their talent. If an audio version ever comes along for any story of mine it’ll be down the road when it proves worth the format’s effort and cost.
REVIEWS (and a Foreword!)
It was the best of times (People reading the thing! Commenting on the thing! Good good good—), it was the worst of times (The Mortifying Ordeal of People Reading and Commenting on the Thing). Time for what every advice site declares a book absolutely must have the moment it’s thrust into the wild.
Reviews, reviews, reviews.
I’ve already bitten several bullets and passed copies out to a handful of fellow scribblers to scrutinize, their reviews destined to be hung up like literary gold stars on their bookselling site of choice, my own included. Now comes my preliminary grovel to readers en masse to please drop a review, a comment, a blurb of any shape or size where you can once The Vampyres drops. I’ve already gotten some early comments that have consisted mostly of screaming. Screams also count as a review.
As an aside, there are two folks in particular who I reached out to who exist in the stratosphere of Coolest People in the Vampiric Lit scene. They promptly exploded me into disbelieving giblets when they told me, yes, they’d be happy to read my little story and offer up a review and a foreword for the book respectively.
I’m not sure what the decorum here is, but for safety (and surprise’s) sake, I’ll not name names. But they are names I’ve been happy to come across for the past two years while neck deep in the undead book club. I’m infinitely grateful to both of them and am waiting on pins, needles, stakes and kukri blades by my inbox so I can pin their words up inside the book itself.
FUTURE SCRIBBLING
To get one of the biggest questions out of the way, let’s talk about Barking Harker.
My very own object lesson on sunk cost fallacy.
I wrote my way through a goddamn cinderblock of text without even grazing the finish line of the first section of the story. A story made of so many convoluted triple-decker layers of subplots and side characters that it had the structural integrity of a monolithic Nature Valley granola bar, just waiting to fall apart under its own weight. Such is the hubris and curse of too-many-words-itis. The Vampyres remains a miraculous fluke, jotted down during an overdue break from BH’s slog. Not just because I tripped and fell into finishing the story, but because it’s comparatively compact! Brevity at last!
For those still craving the assorted gothic and ghoulish promises of the initial novel idea, don’t worry, those aren’t going anywhere. I’ve just crumbled the metaphorical bloodstained granola by my own hand and have done the sane thing of parsing out the various subplots to become the foundations of their own stories. Which they really should have been from the get-go. Insert 100+ clown emojis here.
On that note, I am turning into WIPs Georg over here. Good god.
I hesitate to throw myself all-in again and make promises of X Story that may leave me spinning my mental wheels or ballooning the plot out into a behemoth that can’t be steered back on course. Even so, here’s a peek at a few ideas I currently have on the brain.
Tumblr media
So.
Not exactly lacking for stories. It’s just a matter of seeing which of them breaks ahead of the herd and squeezes out into the publication ether first.
LAST BIT  
Blah, blah, requisite reminder that I have a Ko-Fi where you can donate a buck or commission my best attempt at art, blah. Any pennies are a help.
But I’m betting very few of you came around here for my doodles. Somehow, a good amount of people tripped into this pit with me because you enjoy the rambles and horrors I’ve written over the years. Maybe some of you will even buy my book once it’s out. And you, there, on the other side of the screen—you’re reading this right now. You made it all the way to the bottom of this pile of exposition just because you wanted to. So, thank you.
Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for reading before and reading what’s to come. Thank you for giving me the confidence to even consider shouldering my own work out into the wider world.
Thank you.
P.S. If you want to re-read the preview, go here!
239 notes · View notes
lowkeyrobin · 1 month
Text
MCYT ; at a trampoline park
includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, badlinu, ranboo, & quackity
warnings ; language, mentions of nosebleeds
masterlist
Tumblr media
TOMMYINNIT
absolute problem child
we all saw the trampoline park vlog
jumping off anything and everything
almost broke his ankle double bouncing onto a hard ledge because he's a dumbass
constantly double bouncing you
forces you to hold his belongings, like just set them on the ground it'll be fine. we're three feet away 😭😭😭
makes you hold the vlog camera at all times when he's doing tricks and attempting them
throws a ball straight at your face and gives you a teeny tiny nosebleed
"Tommy, what the hell?"
"Sorry!"
gets the staff to play Jort Storm over the speakers
people stare at him the whole time like "who is that annoying child?"
if only they subscribed
TUBBO
double bounces you constantly
obsessed with the zip line thing
he goes on that thing like 282929 times
he gets you guys sunglasses so you're bouncing around looking swag as hell
generally a fun time
recording his god damn backflips and shit
you guys have a dodgeball competition with a bunch of random children
you were ganged up on
and you lost
LMAO
when he hears a song he likes over the speakers he has to pause and lip sync it with you I swear
BADLINU
a little less tame than the problem child
he and harry attempt to do tricks off the angled trampolines and that just goes so well
he records the whole thing for his weekly vlog dw
the amount of double bouncing.
you wanna puke when you're getting ready to leave
Freddie almost lost his phone in the weird pit of soft cubes
there's a slide, which just goes so, so crazy hard
in the vlog he edits in some copyright free metal and that stupid red filter if yk what I'm talking about
somehow you ended up busting your finger on the side and he slows it down like an instant replay 💀💀💀
RANBOO
does a bunch of tricks to land in the hand-on-head-laying-on-side position like in the tom simons vlog from like 2 years ago
doesn't mean to double bounce you but he does constantly
jumps over the hard ledges like it's so easy
you almost break your legs trying that
wrestling matches
that's a story in itself
you pour water into his mouth through his mask while he's wrestling Tommy like it's the WWE
QUACKITY
gets you guys those cheap sunglasses
he got the blue and yellow star ones
so swag
he posts a pic on Twitter and saves it in his photos to his 'shenanigans' album lol
double bouncing competitions
he almost loses his beanie like 10000 times
you guys call like karl or tubbo and bother them for like five minutes while you're taking a break lol
126 notes · View notes
Text
Skin Deep
Tumblr media
Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack, story edited by @garbagevanfleet
Credit to @kiszkasun for providing the wonderful edits of the guys for inspo 🖤
The amazing Tattooartist!Jake moodboard created @pennylanefics that sparked this idea weeks ago 🖤
Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka
Word count: 12.3k
A/N: @asparrowofthedawn planted this idea in my brain, and I couldn’t function until I wrote it out. She’s been such a gem giving input and support throughout the week. It wouldn’t have been brought into existence if it wasn’t for her ❤️
Also, this is a smut fic with the twins, so if that is not your thing- please keep on scrolling. It’s my first one, so I’m nervous about that. Feedback and thoughts are always welcome and my inbox is open!
**Disclaimer: As someone with multiple tattoos, I tried to make this as realistic as possible. That being said, it’s not going to 100% accurate of the tattoo experience. Please don’t come for me**
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, sexually explicit material a MINORS DNI!! (Unprotected penetrative sex, oral m!receiving, oral f!recieving, fingering, biting, slapping, dirty talk, spit kink, sitophilia - food/drink play, praise kink, soft!dom, teeny bit of restraints if you squint, let me know if I missed something!)
Masterpost
Tumblr media
You pull open the door to the shop, greeted instantly by the chime of the tiny bell that alerts the staff of your presence. Looking around, it appears to be like any standard tattoo parlor, with its walls covered completely with framed pictures of flash art and leather-covered bench seats lining the waiting area. It’s dead quiet aside from the music playing over the speakers from the back room, and there’s no one to be found. 
Confused, you pull your phone out to check the time. 
11:48. Lunch time. 
You chew at your lip, waiting a few seconds before deciding to turn back to the exit, only to be interrupted by the sound of a man’s voice.
“Hello!” 
It’s friendly and upbeat, making you spin around on your heels to find the source. With a name like, ‘The Edge of Darkness Tattoo’, your mind has conjured up some interesting characters, so you’re more than shocked when a young man walks out from behind a curtain -  heavily tattooed as you’d expect - to find his place behind the counter.
 His laughter is muffled into the paper napkin that he wipes across his mouth. “Sorry about that, I was just eating some of my noodles and wasn’t sure if I heard the door open.”
“Hi,” you respond, letting your nervousness shake through your voice as you take small steps forward. You’ve had a few negative experiences with tattoo artists in the past, so you’re not ready to give up the apprehension just yet. “And that’s okay. I didn’t realize what time it was. I can come back later-“
He cuts you off with a wave, and displays a warm, reassuring smile, “Don’t be ridiculous. What brings you in?”
“I-uh. I have a t-tattoo design.” You stumble over your words, but you clear your throat and start over. “I’d like to make a tattoo appointment.”
“Fantastic! I can certainly set that up for you.” He wiggles the mouse to the computer in front of him and starts tapping away at the keys. “Artist?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Did you have an artist in mind?” When he realizes you’re still a few feet away, he ushers you forward,  “Come on up here! I promise I won't bite.”
You shuffle forward with nervous laughter escaping from the corners of your mouth, “I don’t know any. This is actually my first time here. My best friend was the one to recommend this place to me.”
“Perfect! I love having new clients. So, here’s what we can do. I can look at the design you brought in and then we can discuss the artist that would be the best match for what you’re looking for. Sounds good?”
A smile forms on your lips as you start falling into the rhythm of his energy. “That’s great. It’s on my phone though. Is that okay?” 
“Of course! Honestly, you should see the crazy stuff that people bring in sometimes. I’m pretty sure someone doodled their idea on a Mcdonald's napkin for me once.”
Now that you’ve left your once-looming anxiety at the door, and shuffled a bit closer, you’re able to take in the details of his appearance. The sides of his hair have been buzzed, leaving his tousled curls to rest at the top of his head and down the back of his neck. His ears are exposed, showcasing the thin golden hoops in each lobe, as well as the industrial bar through the right. The sharp angle of his jawline leads your eye to the trimmed goatee on his chin and mustache framing his full lips. The vibrant floral tattoos on his neck peek out above the collar of his cream-colored crew neck with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows, allowing you to look at the artwork that filled every inch of space from his bare forearms down to his knuckles. Admittedly, you’re a bit surprised to see that his face is mostly clear from piercings other than the tiny metal hoop on the left side of his nose.
God, he’s cute. Like really cute. 
You try to shove away your attraction for him by unlocking your phone and tapping on your photos icon to pull up the pictures of your design in question. Even though your shaking hands are causing you to fumble with your phone, he waits patiently for you.. 
“Here it is,” you mumble under your breath when you find the right picture, and you turn it around to show him. 
“Wow! That’s a big piece!” 
“Uh, yeah. Is that okay?”
“Fuck yeah!” He leans in closer to get a better view, blessing you with the musky scent of his cologne that’s layered with sweet notes of vanilla. You don’t even realize how close you’ve been leaning in to chase it until you smell the mint from his gum. He coos softly, coating the words with a slight raspiness, “Ooh…that’s sexy. I fucking love floral pieces like this. Where are you wanting it?”
“I was thinking about the upper thigh and hip area,” you explain, pointing to the area on your body in a general motion of your hand.
“That’s going to look fucking sick.” He reaches forward, cupping his hand around yours to get a better look at the image on your screen. You’re in denial with how flustered he’s making you, distracting yourself from the warmth of his hand on your fingers by looking up at his face. Your eyes are captured by the fond smile tugging on his lips as he zooms in and out of the picture with his index finger and thumb. “Man, as much as I would love to do this for you — and as much as I hate to say this —  I think Jake might do a better job.”
You’re entranced in his aura, only mere inches away from his face, sucked into the gravitational-like pull he has. Somehow, you manage to ask in a quiet voice, “Jake? Does he do pieces like this?”
He straightens to a standing position, breaking the closeness between you. “Yeah! Well, he will fight me on it, but he tends to do more black and gray. Actually…hold on. Lemme pull out the books.” He leans down behind the counter and lifts two leather-bound books that are similar appearance to photo albums. He opens one that has “Josh” written in gold script across the front, and starts flipping through it. “See, I’m more of a lettering and bold line work guy myself. A little more color than Jake does.” He hums to himself and shrugs. “Flowers like the ones you want aren’t out of my comfort zone though.”
You are in awe of his talent as you watch him flip through each page, “I see that. It’s really beautiful work, and I’m guessing you’re Josh?”
He flashes an award-winning smile, revealing the tiny gap between his two front teeth and the dimple on his left cheek. “The one and only.”
It earns him a bashful smile and a soft giggle from your lips, creating an undeniable moment of tension between you. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, causing your eyes to drop down to your hands while he grabs the second book to open and flip through. He’s pausing on each piece, giving you the time to study Jake’s portfolio of work. You wish you could say you were paying attention at first, but your eyes seem to act on their own, drifting up to Josh’s mouth instead. Deep in concentration and unaware of your shameless gawking, he plays with the ball of his tongue ring against his teeth and lips while flipping through each laminated page. 
Your eyes never stay on the artwork for long before they flick back up to Josh, and as if the universe is playing a cruel joke, he catches you the last time. Embarrassed, you quickly avert your eyes to anything else in the room, but before you can, you catch a glimpse of the grin forming on his lips.
You’re positive a telltale blush shows on your face as a wave of heat rises from your chest, and your train of thought is completely derailed. 
After sitting in a too-long moment of silence with the only sound filling the room is the pop! of his gum, he shuts the book, and clears his throat before asking, “So, what are you thinking?”
“Huh?”
An airy laugh flutters from his throat. “Which artist would you like to book with?
“Oh!” You consider your options, even if you're afraid to disappoint him by ultimately taking his initial advice. “I think I agree with you on picking Jake.”
“Solid choice. I promise I’m not offended.” He nods and shoots a playful wink. You stiffen and scramble to come up with an explanation, but he cuts you off before a word leaves your mouth, “Hey, I’m just playing with you. Relax, mama.”
The gentle touch to your arm and term of endearment makes your head spin.
“Okay. So, let’s look at his next availability. Which seems to be…hold on.” He clicks his tongue over his teeth as he scrolls on the mouse. His eyes light up and meet yours, “I think you lucked out! Looks like he has an opening next week, but it’s the last booking of the day. Is an evening appointment okay for you?
“Yeah, I think so. What time does the shop close?”
“We aim for eight depending on who’s working that day, but Jake likes to stay late and fit people in when we can.”
“Will you be here?” You blurt out the question before you can reel it back on your tongue. You’ve found a sense of comfort in his presence and taken the chance it might put your mind at ease to know the answer. 
As if he can see the gears in your head turning, he adds, “I will. Don’t worry. Jake is one of the best artists here so trust me on this, but he’s also booked for the next six weeks, unfortunately. And besides, having the shop to yourself is always great, and you won’t have to stress about anyone else popping in.”
You’re beginning to understand why he’s working the front counter here; his beautiful smile and kind eyes can probably sell you anything. Hell, he could pitch an offer for the giant glass bowl filled with mints that are sitting on the counter and you’d take him up on it. You didn’t need much convincing because this tattoo has been something you’ve wanted for months and months. He just happened to whisk away any morsel of doubt that had been lingering over your head. 
You hum in thought despite the fact that your mind is already made up. “That’s true…okay, let’s do it.”
He reaches out and gives your hand a tight squeeze. “Fuck yeah! Let’s get you set up.” 
Josh spends the next ten minutes discussing the details of your design and quotes you on a price based on the time and space required for the piece. You fill out paperwork as he takes a deposit, reserving your appointment for the following week. He suggests emailing your ideas and images to Jake directly and hands you one of the business cards that has his information on it. 
You flip the tiny rectangle-shaped cardstock in your fingers. “Could I have yours as well?”
“Sure!” He reaches over and plucks his own card from the stack and hands it to you. “If you have any questions, concerns or if something comes up and you need to reschedule, please don’t hesitate to call or text me. You can call the shop too, but good luck on getting someone to pick up.” 
You giggle at the thought and start making your way toward the door. With your back pressed up against the glass, you wave with a farewell. “Thanks for everything, Josh. Guess I’ll see you next week, then.”
He gives a final smile and waves back as you push the door open. “See ya around.”
Tumblr media
A week later you’re back in the shop thirty minutes before your scheduled appointment time. You frown when Josh isn’t standing behind the counter, but you wait for someone to greet you, checking out the selection of jewelry in the glass display case as well as the flash albums sitting on the counter. You hear the faint sound of music and footsteps coming from upstairs. 
Maybe they didn’t hear me come in. 
You walk towards the stairwell and call up to the second floor, “Hello?!”
A male voice echoes back, “I’ll be down in a second!”
After a few minutes, you hear the shuffling of feet coming down the creaky stairs. You see the worn black vans first before you’re greeted by the rest of the man wearing them. Once he comes into full view, he says in a friendly tone, “Hey there!”
He closes the distance between you and extends an open hand for a shake. He’s another young man like Josh, dressed in dark wash jeans that are cuffed at the ankles, and an almost entirely open chambray button-up, rolled up to the elbows to expose his tattooed arms and chest. 
How many cute guys work here?
“Hey!” You offer a hand and ask, “So, you must be Jake?”
He accepts it, wrapping his other hand around yours, encapsulating it in his warmth, and flashes a smile that seems a little too familiar as he answers, “That’d be me. You’re my eight o’clock?”
You nod, making him release your hand and shift a little on his feet while he sweeps his fingers through his long chestnut brown hair. “So, uh, I’m just wrapping up some of the finishing touches on your design, but it should only be a couple more minutes.” He gestures to the stairs behind him. “You can follow me upstairs to wait on the couch… if that’s more comfortable for you?”
You suppose you are a little earlier, so the extra wait doesn’t bother you. “That sounds great!”
You follow him when he leads the way up the wooden staircase, stopping to admire all the artwork covering the narrow walls. To your surprise, the second floor opens up into a large open space. A subdued glow coming from desk lamps illuminate the room, casting everything in a brooding, gothic feel. The wood flooring brings out the richness of the emerald green painted walls, and in the center, there is a dark, studded leather sofa that matches the wall color. Framed artwork and oddities fill the space. Your eyes scan over a variety of things like flash, band posters, mounted bugs, taxidermy pieces, swords, a vast collection of records with a turntable, dried flowers, and everything in between. Looking around, there appears to be two main work areas set up in opposite corners, with the furniture breaking up the space in the middle. 
Turning to you slightly, he gestures to the couch with an open hand. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. It shouldn't be longer than a few more minutes.”
You sit down, dropping your purse by your feet to settle into a more relaxed position, anticipating that you might be here for a while. You pick up one of the tattoo magazines off the coffee table and start flipping through it to pass the time. Glancing over the pages, you see Jake sitting at a desk working away on an iPad. It’s deathly quiet except the music that’s set at a low volume playing over a Bluetooth speaker. 
You try not to stare, but you can’t help watching a talented artist at work. His long hair has fallen from his shoulders, causing the wavy, slightly-knotted tendrils to frame his face as he looks down at his work. You’re mesmerized by his graceful beauty, noticing little details like how his full, bottom lip pouts out from him being so hyper-focused. His hand sweeping across the screen with the pen being held between his fingers is the only thing pulling your attention. At one point, he becomes annoyed with his hair being in the way, and combs it back in a loose bun, securing it with the hair elastic that was wrapped around his middle digit. The way he's bent over, gives you a view down his chest from his shirt being so open, but you’re too far to make out any of the tattoos covering it. 
When it seems like he’s about ready to finish drawing, you try to busy yourself with anything else but him, so he doesn't catch you as Josh had done a week prior. You end up scrolling aimlessly through your phone, flipping through several apps until you hear a chair being pushed out across the floor. At first, you are startled by the scraping sound of metal against wood, but the reaction shifts to excitement when you look up to see Jake walking over to you. 
By the expression on his face, you can tell something is bothering him. “Sorry about that. The last guy took longer than I expected and — uh, never mind, you don’t want to hear about that.” He shakes his head, shooing away the thought. “Honestly, I really just wanted to make it perfect for you.”
“I appreciate it! And it’s okay, I didn’t mind waiting.”
He sits on the couch next to you and hands the tablet over with the design displayed on the screen. “What do you think?”
The amount of raw talent he has blows you away, exceeding every expectation you could have, like he’s plucked the vision straight from your brain. You gasp in awe, zooming in and out of every detail. “It’s so beautiful!”
A prideful smile forms on his face and he settles a few more inches, getting close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body as his leg presses up against yours. The proximity allows you to smell the teakwood notes of his cologne and the cinnamon candy that he’s rolling around in his mouth as he talks. “You sure? If there is anything you want to change, I would be more than happy to do that.”
You swear you’re able to feel his breath fan against your neck. “I think it's perfect.”
He leans in more, pointing to the different details of the design with the pen, “See, I thought that this part would be a nice touch, right?” He pats your knee before giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think it makes it unique to you.”
The way he emphasizes the last word with that low gravelly tone to his voice sends a chill through your spine. You squeak out while handing the tablet over, “I love it.”
“Okay, great. I’ll go ahead and get the stencil ready then. We can go from there to see how it fits in the spot you want.” He stands to his feet with the tablet in hand, and disappears into a hallway out of your sight, leaving you alone on the couch. 
Another door on the opposite side of the room opens and closes, and a trail of footsteps follows it, growing louder and louder as they approach. You hadn’t seen Josh yet, but you weren't aware that anyone else was here in the building. You twist around on the couch and see a recognizable face presented in front of you. 
He’s dressed differently tonight, wearing a white t-shirt that showcases more tattoos than before, jeans, and a pair of scuffed white vans. The things that haven’t changed are his welcoming eyes glimmering in the light when they meet yours. He chimes across the room in an upbeat voice, “Hey, you!”
“Hey, Josh.” You keep your voice light and casual, hiding the embarrassment from how he’s already making you feel.
He stops in his tracks and turns towards you with a pained expression on his face. “Okay, now I feel bad that I don’t remember your name.”
You wave him off through your giggling, “I don’t think I gave it to you.”
He rolls his eyes, albeit playfully. “That doesn’t change the fact I’m the dumbass that didn’t ask.”
You give him your name and hear it called back to you in his voice. To avoid feeling flustered like you did the last time you spoke to him, you dare to change the subject. “Ya know, you and Jake look like you could be brothers.”
He huffs a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back with a hand placed over his chest. “It’s funny you say that. We’re actually twins.”
Your mind connects all the dots, comparing their similarities and differences the second the words hit your ears. You allow a grimace to spread across your features when you realize how awkward it was for you to say they were related just now. “Oh shit, how many times a day do you hear that?”
He shrugs as walks over to the couch you’re sitting on and props his elbows on the back of the furniture. Leaning forward, he teases you with that cheeky smile, “Don’t worry, you have plenty of time to come up with original material.“
You scoff and just as you’re about to face away from him, he reaches out and taps your shoulder. “Can I tell you something?”
“Shoot.” Your heart starts racing with the possibilities running wild in your mind.
The smile on his face shifts to a nervous one and his eyes drift up to the ceiling for a few seconds before they fall back to yours. “I’ll be honest, I half-expected you to cancel tonight.”
“You thought I would wuss out?”
His eyes widened from the implication, afraid that he offended you. “No! No. Nothing like that.” He pauses, searching through his mind to find the right choice of words, “It’s…you just didn’t seem all the way committed to getting it when we talked last week. Like I was pressuring you into it or something.”
You didn’t realize you were being that obvious about it. 
Your eyes drop to your hands as you pick at the cuticle on your thumb. “I guess I am a little nervous.”
“Yeah? That’s pretty normal for a big piece like this.” He shifts back on the heels of his feet and brings a hand up to his neck, rubbing the muscles, “I still get nervous sometimes.”
“I heard it was in a painful spot too?”
“Yeah, it can be with any sensitive spot and anywhere you don't have a lot of padding over bone is going to be a bitch. But don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Jake is a gentle lover.” He suddenly makes a displeased face, giving away that the last part accidentally slipped out when he forgot that you were still a client. 
You control the smile that’s threatening to show on your face as you unwrap the mint that you’ve taken from the jar downstairs, popping it into your mouth, “And what about you?”
His mouth falls open, but no words come out. Instead, he decides to watch the way you roll the candy around on your tongue.
“Okay, let’s go ahead and see how these look-“ Jake’s voice echoes from the hall, but he cuts himself off once he sees you and Josh staring at each other. It only takes a second for a knowing grin to spread across his lips. “Am I interrupting something?”
Josh clears his throat and pushes himself off the edge of the couch, fighting back the smirk that’s creeping up with each passing second. “No, just chatting.”
You notice that Jake’s changed from the button-up into a comfortable black t-shirt, showing you the extensive work that covers both of his arms. He turns to face you, offering you a warm smile and a gesture of his hand over to the mirror. “Shall we?”
You leave your stuff where you are while he gathers his supplies and follows you to the full-length mirror set up along the wall. 
Standing before it, you remember the area you’ve chosen for your tattoo, and ask, “Should I take off the thong too?” 
You thought it was a reasonable question, but you second guess yourself when he coughs loudly. A heat of embarrassment flushes in your chest when you watch both of Jake’s brows raise as he swallows harshly, “Uh, well, no... I-I don’t think you need to do that. Just lifting the dress will be fine.”
He gathers a disposable razor and a plastic squirt bottle that’s filled with a light green solution in his gloved hands and crouches before you. You pull up your dress in your hands for him, bunching the fabric up in your fists right under the band of your bra to reveal the black lace thong you’re wearing. 
“May I?” He asks softly, and you nod in approval. You feel anxious, jittery even, like every inch of your body is buzzing with nervous excitement to the point you think you’re shaking uncontrollably. 
A shiver rolls through you the second the squeezes the bottle of green liquid onto your skin. “That’s cold.”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, while he wipes away the soap solution that’s running down your legs with a paper towel. “Guess I should have warmed it up for you.” 
You blush at the thought, watching him in the mirror while being completely transfixed by the simple action until his next question whips you back into the present. 
“Is it okay if I move this strap?” You glance down to see his large, dark-chocolate brown eyes looking up at you. 
“S-sure,” you mumble back when you process the fact he’s referring to your underwear. 
He hooks his thumb under the lace band and lifts it over your hip bone, moving it away so it won’t get wet. The stream of water ventures further into your inner thigh and the valley of your hip. Satisfied, he begins to glide the razor in precise strokes across your leg, pressing into your skin every so often with his fingers to get a close shave. It feels wildly intimate to have him do this, even if you’re convincing yourself that it's standard for his occupation.
You peek over your shoulder to see Josh staring at you, hands folded lifelessly in his lap across the screen of his tablet. His eyes are fixated on your backside, making you realize that your ass has been on full display for him the entire time. You’re thankful that you chose to wear this set tonight, especially the panties because of the heart clasp where the straps meet in the back. His gaze climbs up the curves of your body until it finally meets your eyes. He’s far enough away, but you swear you see a blush pinkening his cheeks. 
You cock your head to the side, silently calling him out. His dumbfounded expression shifts into a devilish grin, but Jake interrupts his thoughts before he can say a word.
“Hey man, could you give me a hand over here?” Jake calls out over his shoulder as he dries you off with another paper towel. 
Josh stands from his chair and pads over, well, nearly skips over to you in a matter of seconds. “What’s up?”
“Can you grab that stencil for me?” Jake asks him as he peels the gloves from his hands, pointing to the table, Josh hands them to his brother and walks behind you. He flips through them, and says, “So, I blew this up to a few different sizes.” 
Josh’s fingers ghost up the small of your back to collect the parts of your dress that have slipped from your hold. You catch the pitchy breath that wants to escape your lips, but you can’t suppress the arching of your back to press your ass into him. 
“You like that?” He whispers inches away from your ear, sending a shudder down the length of your spine. 
Jake holds up the largest stencil to your leg for you to look in the mirror, walking you through the process. “I think this one is the best because of how it fills out the space here.” He wraps his now bare, yet steady hand around your hip, pressing softly into the supple flesh to rotate you slightly. He turns his head to the mirror as the pads of his fingers graze you, trailing across the sensitive skin of your upper leg with a barely-there touch. 
“Black?” Josh taunts in an amused hum, quiet enough for only you to hear, “I definitely took you for a pink or red kind of woman.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, and for a moment, you worry that your knees might buckle under you as Jake goes on explaining as though Josh isn’t practically purring in your ear. “It just flows perfectly with your curves here.” He meets your gaze directly with the darkened pupils and his bottom lip tucked under his teeth, giving your hip a deliberate squeeze. “Whaddya think?”
“He’s right, y’know? Your body was made for this.”
Jake’s crooked, half-smile causes you to believe that he might have heard his brother. It’s a miracle that you haven’t melted into the cracks of the floor beneath your feet. The ability for you to concentrate on anything is thrown out the window with Josh’s warm breath cascading across the back of your neck with his twin kneeling before you, but somehow you’re able to release a shaky sigh, “I think it looks amazing.”
He nods and looks up over your shoulder. “Josh?”
Josh hums in thought as he peers over you and down at the reflection of the stencil held up to your upper thigh. “I agree with that placement. It’s gonna look fucking sick.”
He’s so close that you can feel the tip of his nose against the shell of your ear. “Might have you bend over the table so I can double-check his work from the back.”
Your face flushes with heat and you clench your thighs together in need just as Jake sets the stencil on the table. He claps his hands together in excitement with a pleased breath of laughter to himself. “Fuck yeah. That settles it then.”
You catch the cool scent from his mint when he asks, “Still need my help with your dress?” 
You don’t need to respond. He already knows the answer. 
Jake gloves his hands again, taking his time to clean and prepare your skin with an antiseptic soap. He proceeds to spray a solution to the area and begins the process of laying down the stencil. You’re able to keep the strap of your thong out of his way with Josh helping you hold up the back of your dress. With a careful touch, Jake presses the thin transfer paper to your skin in its chosen spot and starts smoothing it across your leg with gentle sweeps of his palms. 
He slowly peels it away to reveal the dark purple outline of your design, giving you a little preview of your new tattoo. He releases a heavy sigh of relief once the paper is completely off, “We even lucked out on only having to do the stencil once.” 
“Don’t miss me too much.”
Just as quickly as it all happened, it was over. You’re left standing alone, feeling flustered and in disbelief that it even happened in the first place. As you question the grip you have on your sanity, Josh saunters off back to his work desk while Jake escorts you over to the table he has prepared for you. 
“Go ahead and lay down on the table here. Get as comfortable as you can, but I know that’s easier said than done on those fucking things.” 
You crawl up on the Saran-wrapped vinyl furniture that resembles a large massage table. It’s padded enough, but you can tell that it’s going to cause your muscles to ache after a few hours. 
Once you find a relaxed position that’s mostly laying on your left side, you lift the bottom of your dress so that it’s cleared away from your hips and legs. 
Jake’s back is to you as he sets up his station, and asks over his shoulder, “What kind of music do you like?”
You blank out for a moment, forgetting everything you’ve ever listened to, which makes him chuckle under his breath. “Think about it while I get this set up. I’ll have Josh play whatever you want on the Bluetooth speaker.” 
You let nervous laughter flutter from your chest. “I saw you had a record player and a collection?”
He spins around in his chair with his face lit up, beaming with enthusiasm from your observation. “We do! We use it a lot when we aren’t in the middle of a session. It just really sucks having to get up and flip it over.” He lifts his hands to show you the tight black latex covering them. “Gloves and whatnot.”
“Oh, I gotcha.”
The next ten minutes go by quickly as he explains the process to you, step-by-step. While he rambles on, you look around the spacious room as he goes onto the next steps of wrapping his work area, and machine, filling tiny ink capsules, and gathering all his supplies together. 
Once he has everything laid out in front of him just the way he likes, he scoots in close and flips on the machine, firing it to life. “Ready?”
You sigh through a weak smile. “As I’ll ever be.”
He pats your leg in reassurance, “The first few lines are the worst, but it gets better…well, until the very end. Just let me know when you need a break, okay?”
You reply with a final nod.
He’s right. The needle puncturing your skin is a hot thrumming scratch as if a pissed-off bee has stung you and decided to drag its ass across your flesh. It’s painful, but not unbearable. Soon, your adrenaline and endorphins kick in, and it subsides into a dull sensation after a few minutes — just as Jake predicted. You’re thankful he doesn’t have too heavy of a hand, and that he works quickly starting from the bottom portion of your thigh. 
Josh has put on the music you requested before he starts to clean up around the space, assuming it’s to close up the shop for the evening. He doesn’t hold your attention long when Jake engages in some small talk, asking you mostly about your family, friends, and work. 
When your answers begin to trail off and shorten, he picks up the slack in conversation. He talks about his passions outside of tattooing, which you find out are music and cooking. You learn that he’s a confident guitar player as he tells you about the band he’s formed with his brothers, including Josh, as well as Sam, who you find out is the shop’s piercer, and that they happen to play local gigs on the weekends. 
You listen to his soothing voice over the harsh buzzing roar of the tattoo machine, allowing your eyes to close as you find the calm space tucked in your mind. As the minutes turn into over an hour, it becomes harder for you to stay in that place. He checks in on you a few times, but you’re adamant to say that you’re fine and that you don’t need the break he suggests. 
You’re fighting your body’s signals, struggling to stay still on the table while he works. When a low groan of discomfort escapes you, he suddenly lifts the needle away from your skin, noticing that you’re grimacing in pain with your face buried into the crook of your elbow. He taps your shin instead of bringing the machine back to your leg, and you pull your arm away now that it has become damp from your hot tears.
You prop yourself up on your elbow, and the confused look you give him makes him take a deep breath and push away from the table. He looks at you with an expression that’s filled with concern like he’s tossing around the thoughts in his head for what to say. “So, here’s what I’ll do-“ He pauses when you stiffen, but holds eye contact. “We’ll get through this outline tonight and then I think I’ll have you come back in a week or so to do the shading and color.”
Come back in a week. 
A pout slips through and tugs at your bottom lip. 
He laughs softly through a joke to reassure you, “No charge of course.” 
“You just want an excuse to see me again,” you quip back, allowing a weak smile to break through your disappointment.  
He gives a half-hearted shrug with a nod. “That might be true, but it’s clear that I’m hurting you right now.”
You try to save face with a joke of your own, “Isn’t that what they say? ‘No pain, no gain?’”
His shoulders fall and he gives you a look of defeat. “Why is it always the pretty girls that say stuff like that?” He scooches the chair on its wheels, close enough that he’s almost hovering over you. “Listen, It’s only going to get worse and I can't in good conscience — torture you for the next couple of hours just to get it all done tonight.”
You’re a little upset at yourself for giving him the impression that you can’t sit through an entire tattoo, releasing a deflated sigh from your lungs, “…Okay.”
Sensing the instant shift in your mood, he adds, “Hey, you’re doing great, okay? I do not doubt in my mind that you could power through this with no problem….but I’m also not gonna lie to you and say it’s not killing me to see you cry.” A playful smile makes an appearance when he mumbles softly, “…at least like this.”
Your jaw drops and hangs open, making him laugh and raise his hands defensively. 
He straightens and huffs, “Oh I’m sorry, is Josh the only one allowed to flirt with you?”
“I heard that!”
Jake’s eyes stay locked on you as you both smile at each other, and while completely ignoring his brother, he asks, “You’re okay with that plan?”
“I guess so,” you say through a heavy sigh. 
“You’re killing it.” He sets the machine down and stretches his muscles while still sitting in his chair, wincing in pain. “Although, my back is fucking killing me.”
“Because he’s a bitch that doesn’t stretch as much as he should!”
You giggle at the brotherly banter, craning your neck to look for Josh. Jake lowers himself and whispers, and you nearly moan at the feeling of his breath hitting your skin, “Don’t listen to him. He complains more than anybody here.”
“Somehow I believe it.”
“You have no idea.” The scent of cinnamon hits your nose with how close his face is to yours. He doesn’t linger long before rolling back to his position by your legs to rinse off the area. “So, let’s take a fifteen-minute break and knock out the rest of this outline.”
You were hopeful that the short break would help, but it hasn’t. Your skin is so raw and sensitive that each pass of Jake’s steady hand feels like a white-hot knife being dragged across your leg. 
Your hands are balled into fists as you desperately try to find your calm, happy place deep in the folds of your mind. Despite your best efforts, whimpers of pain and discomfort start leaving your mouth more freely.
You don’t notice Josh walking up to the table until you barely hear his voice over the machine. “Nice. It’s looking great already.”
Their voices seem distorted and far away like you’re stuck in a type of lucid dream state. 
“I’m trying to wrap this up for her. She’s fucking over it, poor thing.” 
Josh hums in agreement. “How long?”
Jake clicks his tongue a few times, wiping over the area with a paper towel that feels like eighty-grit sandpaper. “Hmmm…I dunno, maybe thirty if she’s got it in her.”
Josh grabs a chair, settles in on its cushion, and pulls it right behind the head of the table. He gently taps your arm, getting your attention, and coos softly, “You doing okay, sweet girl?” 
You nod, sniffling back the tears. 
He rubs your arm that’s still draped across the middle of your face. “You’re doing great. You think you got another half an hour in you?”
“Yeah,” you answer, muffling the sound of your voice into your forearm. 
“Atta girl.” You can picture the smile on his face as he says it, making your heart skip a beat. 
Josh hooks his left arm under your head to hold your right arm while rubbing circles across your shoulder and down your back. At first, you flinch and lock up, making him say, “Try to relax for us, it hurts the tenser you are.”
You welcome the embrace, melting into his comforting touch. He adjusts with each deep breath you take, and you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his bicep to smell his cologne and the fresh linen scent of detergent off his t-shirt. 
You feel his breath hit your temple, “You’re such a badass. It’s gonna all be worth it, I promise.”
The next thirty minutes feel like a blur thanks to Josh distracting you from the pain. Although, the way you’re melting into his body with Jake’s arms pressing against your thighs stirs a unique feeling between your legs. 
“Okay,” Jake says finally, shutting off the machine. The blanket of quiet calmness that drapes over you feels like a blessing. “I think you’re done for the night.”
Josh mumbles into your hair, “You fucking did it.” He loosens his embrace and slips his arms out from you. 
Jake takes extra care in rinsing off your leg with the same green solution as before and dries it with paper towels. As soon as he feels you’re cleaned up enough, he offers a bare hand. “Wanna take a look?”
You’re pulled to a sitting position with his help, and you take a minute to stretch out your stiff muscles. Your feet hit the ground like you’re a newborn baby deer, almost toppling over if it isn’t for Jake holding onto your hands. He walks you to the mirror and your jaw drops to the floor when you see your reflection. 
The mixture of emotions you’re experiencing hits you like a freight train. You’re not sure whether you should cry, laugh hysterically, or stand in complete shock in front of the mirror for hours — perhaps a combination of all three. 
“Holy shit! Oh my god! This is incredible!” You take a few steps closer to the mirror, turning your leg side to side to see how the new addition of ink looks on your body. 
He’s standing behind you, peering over your shoulder when he asks softly, “You like it?”
“Like it? I love it!” you squeal in excitement, turning around to face him. You’re not sure what comes over you at this exact moment, it could be a mixture of desire, tension, or even fatigue with some leftover adrenaline, or maybe it's just pure attraction to him that motivates you, but you reach out and cup his face in your hands. Bringing him forward, you smash your lips into his in a more aggressive kiss than either of you anticipated. He must not have expected it from how he flinches back slightly, but only for a second before he reconnects the kiss, deepening it. 
He brings his hands up to weave into the tresses of your hair and snake around to the nape of your neck. The hours of build-up from sweet praises and gentle caresses are making you feel bold, and you flick your tongue across his lip in a hungry need for more. 
His full, pouted lips part without a second of hesitation, and he slips his tongue across yours. You’re both trying to be mindful of the massive, fresh tattoo on your right thigh, but your impulses take over for a few seconds longer than they should’ve. You tug him forward with a hand around his hip, and for a fleeting moment, you feel him harden beneath his jeans when he presses up against your left hip. 
Jake is the one to break the kiss through a low groan, eliciting a whine of complaint from you. He doesn’t let go, however, but instead smiles against your lips, releasing a breathy laugh, “Whoa. Hold on, dove.” The pad of his thumb sweeps over your cheek as the spiced, smokiness of his breath fans across your lips, “Trust me when I say we wanna fuck you, but I need to wrap your leg up first. Can’t go destroying my best canvas, can we?”
You’re not sure if you hear him correctly, so you pull back, confused, and mumble, “W-we?”
He cocks an eyebrow and licks across his bottom lip. “Oh, I just thought Josh here was making it painfully obvious how bad he wants you.”
You glance over Jake’s shoulder to see Josh sitting in the same chair as before, now with a leg crossed over the other and his hands locked behind his head. The expression he’s wearing on his face is a smug one, and he only responds to your questioning look with a playful grin and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. 
Your knees are wobbling for an entirely different reason as you walk the short path back to the table. The air is heavy to breathe, thick from the borderline-ferality between the three of you. Jake places a kiss on your lips while you lift yourself on its edge, and scoot back enough for him to wrap your leg. 
The next sound you hear is the chair behind pushed out from under Josh’s legs as he stands to his feet. 
He leans in on his extended arm placed behind you, and lowers himself to whisper in your ear once again. “I’m impressed. I was beginning to think you were just gonna walk right out of here after all that teasing.”
You want to say something back, but all you can do is mewl from the relief of cool water from Jake’s bottle rolling down the sides of your leg.
Josh nips the soft spot below your ear, causing you to lift your hips and clench your thighs before Jake places a firm hand on your belly. He breathes in a deeper voice that makes the wetness pool between your legs. “Are you gonna be a good girl? You’ve done such a good job for us tonight.”
He follows it with a sultry growl vibrating against the shell of your ear. “I bet that pussy is so fucking nice and wet, isn’t it? How bad do you want two cocks tonight, sweet girl?
Jake snaps at his twin, “Josh, would you cut it out? She’s squirming all over the place and I’m trying to lay this fucking Saniderm down.”
Josh huffs an irritated laugh, but behaves to the extent that he’ll settle for placing wet kisses on the path between your shoulder and your ear. 
It takes all of Jake’s attention for him to apply the giant cling-wrap-like bandage to your tattoo with delicate precision. And knowing what’s about to transpire, he takes extra caution and adds a second gauze sheet over it for padding, securing it with black, medical foam tape. 
Josh cheers the second Jake finishes wrapping you up, “Finally! I think it’s about time that we fucking celebrate. Wanna smoke?”
As much as you love to share a cigarette with him, you decide against it and shake your head to turn down his offer.
Without skipping a beat, Jake wheels his chair over to his work desk. “I have some whiskey that I only break out for special occasions. Want a drink instead?”
Josh places an open-mouth kiss on your neck as you are about to respond, causing the sound to come out more like a pitiful moan than a real word, “Sure.”
While his brother digs around the cabinets of his desk for the bottle of liquor, Josh walks around the table to stand in front of you, holding his open hand out for you to take, “C’mere, sweet girl.”
The staggered walk over to the couch is interrupted by Josh kissing you like he’ll never get the chance again. You can’t help but note how it’s completely different from his brother, how it’s not gentle or paced, but rather a clashing of tongues and hungry nips to your lips. It’s an insatiable type of hunger you’re not familiar with, but find that you’re craving every second of it.
He balls up the fabric of your dress and yanks it over your head in a swift motion, tossing it somewhere behind his back. He grabs a generous handful of your ass, squeezing it into his palm before sliding both hands along the curves of your body. His dull nails drag up the length of your back until his slender fingers meet the tiny clasps of your bra. With a flick of his tongue across your teeth paired with a precise pinch of his fingers, the garment is free from your chest. 
He doesn't break the kiss as he guides you to the couch, laying you across the shined, leather furniture on your back. Slotting himself between your legs and propping his weight above you, the frenzied kisses finally leave your lips to trail across your jaw, to the sweet spot of your ear, and down the side of your neck. They’re wet and sloppy, touched by the warmth of his breath through each heavy pant against your tacky skin. The soft hairs of his mustache tickle you, turning you into a writhing mess as his lips explore the intricate details of your body. Acting from your desires, you hitch your left leg around his waist as he rocks his hips into you, catching his concealed erection against your lace-covered pussy. In the passion of tangled limbs, he’s still careful of your freshly tattooed leg draping off the side of the couch. 
His lips graze from the hollow point of your throat, feeling the erratic beating of your heart against his mouth, down between your breasts until he wraps them around one of your bare nipples. Your hands fly up to find his face, and you let your fingers feel across the plush, buzzed hair along the sides of his head before they dive into the loose curls. 
A pull of his locks between your curled fist sends a raspy groan from his mouth onto your skin with his nose pressing into the supple flesh of your breast. He laps his tongue over the sensitive bud, rolling it into the intoxicating heat of his mouth.
As much as he wants to stay here worshiping your naked chest for hours with no end in sight, he’s too impatient to finally taste you. His tongue leaves your overstimulated nipples to trail down the center of your abdomen, across your navel, and down to your left hip. He sucks a splotchy pink love mark on the thin skin, soothing the sting of it with a delicate lick of his tongue. 
You couldn’t care less from the way his breath fans across your body, clinging to the wet lace of your thong between your thighs. He’s only inches away from where you want him most, and he’s making sure to keep you on edge as long as he can. 
Between chasing the feeling of his mouth, and him sinking to the floor on his knees, you are now sitting upright against the back cushions of the couch. You’re in a special kind of daze, pulled under the current of your circumstances. You don’t even notice Jake’s presence until you feel his weight shifting across the leather next to you. 
You watch as Josh leans back on his heels, and tugs his white t-shirt from his body. Your blurry, out-of-focus eyes start at his beautiful smile, scanning to his floral tattoos covering his neck, and down over where they connect to his chest piece where two sparrows are placed among a bed of flowers, one on each side. He takes away the chance for you to look farther down when he brings his lips to your inner thigh once again. 
“I hope you didn’t forget about me, dove,” Jake croons in such a delectable voice that makes you feel like you’re vibrating from the inside out. His fingertips trace across the softness of your jaw just as Josh eases your thong carefully down your legs. 
“No! No… not at all — oh my god!” You cry out the second Josh licks a languid stripe over your once-hidden clit. Somehow, you have forgotten about the existence of the piercing until he presses the tiny metal ball to your bundle of nerves, making you nearly leap in the air. 
“Fucking show off,” Jake curses under his breath, causing Josh to chuckle with his face buried between your legs. 
Feeding off the spark of jealousy, he guides you into a heated kiss with a hand around your neck, cupping your chin in his fingers so you feel the cool metal of his rings. It’s different from the first he had given, and as you fight in this sinful dance for dominance, it’s clear to you that he’s winning. Maybe it was meant to distract you from his brother, or maybe it’s due to the fact he’s no longer holding back like he was before. 
He sucks a mark of his own beneath your ear, one that will be sure to turn a lovely shade of purple by tomorrow morning — another thing to remember him by. The sensation of Jake’s teeth raking across your throat as Josh rolls deliciously slow circles over your clit, overrides your brain’s basic functions. Every thought and every one of your senses is consumed by them, even to the point where the throbbing pain of your tattoo ceases to exist in your mind. 
“Feeling a little thirsty?” Jake hums into your cheek as he caresses a middle finger from your throat and down the center of your chest. 
“Mmhmm.’” The whimper you give is pathetic at best, just as he likes it.
An expert flick of Josh’s tongue makes you roll your head back and clench your thighs around his head, but the soreness in your muscles makes you wince. “Careful now, dove.”
Through your fogged vision, you peer through half-closed lids to watch Jake take a swig from the bottle. He leans in, placing his thumb on your bottom lip, signaling you to open for him. You’re eager, allowing him to spill the shot of whiskey into your waiting mouth. It burns in the best way as you swallow it down, feeling the warmth in your belly, with his palm resting around your throat. The grasp tightens right as he licks across your mouth, wiping away any of the liquor that has spilled from your swollen lips. He hovers right at your ear, sending the growl straight through you, “You do exactly as you’re told, don’t you?”
The way Josh is sucking your clit, babying it, nurturing the building orgasm in the safety of his mouth like no one has done before causes the bindings of your composure to untether without anyone there to save you.
Pleased with the sounds rattling from your chest, Jake taunts the two of you, “We can’t leave Josh out, can we?”
The mention of his name causes his eyes to open and flick up to meet yours. The lust-blown pupils are almost black with unbridled desire, abandoning that playful, rich-toffee color you admired earlier in the evening. Now that you are taking in the sight of him more clearly, you see his right hand wrapping so tightly around your leg, that his fingertips are pressing hard enough into the thickness of your thigh to leave little indentations. You’re able to make out the tattooed letters on his knuckles now that he has your focus, reading the letters, “L O V E” on each finger.
Jake brings the lip of the glass bottle to your sternum and tilts it slightly to pour the amber liquid onto your smooth skin. It drips down your belly in cascading streams, causing you to suck in a sharp gasp between your teeth from the sensation. Before you can react, Josh rushes to leave his spot on your clit, lapping up all the spilled alcohol that tries to trickle down your sides. Jake huffs an amused laugh that drapes across the sticky skin on your neck, “Another one of his party tricks.”
You’ve now brought a hand up into Josh’s hair, using the loose, messy curls as reigns. The smooth, undoubtedly-expensive bourbon mixing with the taste of you, and the way you’re yanking on his hair has flipped an internal switch. The movements of his tongue are no longer gentle and delicate, because he’s devouring you as if his life depends on it, and the lewd noises he’s creating should’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t too bothered to care.
Your eyes are clamped shut so tightly that bright splotches of color begin to burst behind your lids as the impending orgasm twists in your belly with each passing second. Jake is already taking note of the signals your body is giving, telling him that you’re close; watching how your cheeks and chest flush a vibrant pink shade, the raggedness of your breathing as your lungs ache for air, to the way you’re clawing at the top of his thigh and fabric of his shirt. Enamored by the sight of you, he leans in and bites at the tender flesh of your neck, sucking a pattern of marks over your breasts while he plays with your hardened nipples between his fingers.
Jake breathes in a sticky voice like it's coated in golden honey, “You enjoying yourself, sweet dove? I bet you taste fucking phenomenal. I gotta make sure to have you all to myself next time.”
Another pair of fingers tease around your entrance, causing a pathetic plea to rip its way from your lungs, “Josh…please!” 
The teeth of his perfect smile press against you as he considers making you beg again since your voice sounds so pretty saying his name, but he decides to give in by slipping his fingers inside. The warm, wet strokes of his tongue paired with a coaxing curl of his two longest digits along your sweetest spot almost cause you to unravel in that very moment. The hard bridge of his nose is nestled right against your clit when he starts to thrash his head back and forth, not caring that you’re nearly ripping his hair out from his scalp. 
It’s merciless. 
The passion at which he throws you into the wall of your first orgasm is unprecedented. You could have been coming for three seconds or three hours on his tongue, but it made no difference in the end. You might’ve even blacked out, but you’re not entirely sure about that either. He stays there, regardless, with a clamped hand around your leg, licking you up until the point where overstimulation starts to take over. 
When you finally regain the ability to open your eyes, you look down to see him smiling at you with the bottom half of his face drenched in your arousal. The shine on his lips glistens in the light, and it almost makes you sad when he starts to wipe it away with his hand. 
“Now it’s my turn to play,” Jake declares into the humid air as he starts to shift his position on the couch.
You shake your head, and before he can ask why, you place your hands firmly on his chest and push him back toward the arm of the couch. He tumbles on his back, taking you with him. He doesn’t complain nor resist in the slightest from you taking charge. Returning the favor, you lick and bite your way down the vulnerable skin of his throat, feeling his adam’s apple move beneath your lips. Kissing your way along his jawline to his ear, you roll the silver hoop decorating his lobe along your tongue. He grabs you by the waist, rocking you over his lap while a whiny moan from him echoes in the room. 
Breaking away from his neck, you sit back on his thighs and start pulling the embossed leather strap through the large buckle, trying your best not to get distracted by the outline of his cock hidden beneath the dark-wash jeans. 
You whip the belt through the loops with an aggressive yank of your wrist and toss it somewhere across the wooden floor, hearing the metal clank against its surface. Once his jeans are unbuttoned, you slip your hand beneath the denim as well as the cotton of his boxer briefs. The exposed band of stomach showing beneath the bottom of his shirt quivers from your gentle touch. Your fingertips run around the warmth of his body, passing over the trimmed hair beneath his waist until you feel the suede-soft skin of his cock. You glance up to see his eyes fixed on your hand as tiny puffs of hair leave his open mouth. There isn’t much room for your hand to move in his pant leg as you reach farther down, but you’re shocked by his length when you feel only him. Through an arguably smug laugh, he lifts and helps push his pants down enough that you’re able to release him from the restriction of his clothing. 
With the sheer weight and size of him in your hand, you can’t help your eyes from widening in unfiltered awe. You begin stroking him, watching the beads of precome leak out and catch the light as they drip down. You settle on the couch, lowering your body across his legs in a more comfortable position. 
Right as you’re about to bring the head of Jake’s cock to your waiting lips, you catch the sight of Josh walking past you with the zipper of his jeans opened, stroking himself in lazy pumps of his hand. He doesn’t let your eyes linger more than a second or two before he’s out of your line of vision. 
I guess they really are twins.
Jake’s fingers sweep the fallen hair from your face to get a better look at you. You look up through your lashes just as you flick your pointed tongue along the underside of his length, watching as his eyes roll back behind his heavy lids. 
It might be your only chance of the night, so you jump on the opportunity to tease him. The combination of barely-there brushes of your lips and kitten-licks of a soft tongue is making him shift and squirm beneath you. It’s obvious he’s fighting the urge to take control as his fingers fidget on his lap in building anticipation for what’s to come. 
“Come on, dove. You know I’ve been thinking about those pretty lips wrapped around me all night.” His voice is thick, laden with pure eroticism.   
The confession disguised as a praise  sends a wave of aching need for more. Without wasting another second, you guide him along your flattened tongue, swirling it around every inch of his length. Adjusting to how he fills your mouth, you bob your head slowly with your hand stroking what your lips can’t reach. 
Your attention is drawn away from Jake when you feel the weight of Josh’s knee pressing into the leather as he climbs on the couch behind you, but you still don’t stop the movements of your head. His fingertips are the first thing to touch you, making your back arch from the feeling. They dance across your spine, tracing down the finer details which causes a pitched moan to vibrate around Jake as he nudges the back of your throat. A firm hand kneads your ass, and you swear you can hear his breathing start to quicken over the sound of Jake’s. 
You’re startled when his open palm cracks against it from a forceful slap without warning. It stings as the blood rushes to the surface to leave a reddened print, making you clench your thighs together.
It’s when those fingers roll over your overstimulated clit, that you gasp, gagging on Jake’s cock. The sound and feeling cause a curse to slip from his parted mouth, followed it a loud groan, “Fuck! That dirty little mouth of yours.”
If the tears welling in your eyes that coated your lashes didn’t cloud your vision, you would be able to see Jake’s head whipping forward with his thick brows pinched together when he pushes your head down on him. 
With his hand wrapped around the thick base of himself, Josh taps the head teasingly on the swell of your ass a few times. You wiggle your hips, chasing him as he inches closer and closer before his twin takes notice of his intentions. 
Annoyed with him, Jake scoffs, “Why do you get to fuck her first?”
Josh huffs a dry laugh, quipping back, “Because I do everything first, you prick. I’m five minutes older.”
“That’s a stupid fucking rea-Ah! Oh, fuck!”  A certain lick of your tongue as you ignore their banter causes him to grunt the curses mid-sentence, stopping the thought in its tracks. He pauses to collect himself, gripping your hand as he warns through shallow breaths, “Slow down, baby, or else you’re gonna make me cum soon.”
Josh takes the cue and glides himself into your pussy with a deliberate push of his hips. A ragged, borderline-primal growl rips from the back of his throat the second he bottoms out. The position of his hands slips from your hips down to your waist with a roll of his body with his cock buried deep inside. 
He whines, succumbing to throes of pleasure already, “Oh my — fuck! Fuck, you feel so so good, baby.”
The feeling elicits a similar reaction from you, making you crane your neck so you can watch him slowly retreat from you. His eyes are fixed down at himself being coated with you, slick from your arousal. The unhurried push back into you causes his eyelids to flutter closed. The lean muscles of his abdomen, ones hidden beneath the tattooed skin, flex, and twitch with each stroke. The image of the two large roses on each of his hips, placed on the curvature of his slender stomach, snags your attention the longest before Jake’s fingers hook your chin. 
The slow, subtle grinding of his hips transforms into powerful thrusts, knocking the air from your lungs and causing Jake to slip from your mouth. With your face resting on the softness of his tummy, the strokes of your hand are listless at best. Your cries mix with the distinct sounds each time Josh’s ink-decorated thighs connect with your ass. The broken phrases from him are incoherent, but by the way his movements are starting to stagger in rhythm, he’s closer than you expect. 
Suddenly, with his hand gripped tightly around your waist, he pulls himself from you. You might have complained about the empty feeling you’re left with if you didn’t feel his knuckles brush across your skin with each frantic stroke of his loose fist. His trimmed nails scratch along the small of your back as he falters through a violent shudder, and spills his warm release over the curve of your ass with a breathy string of curses tumbling from his lips. 
Breaking the silence between you, Josh mutters in a strained voice as he pats the other cheek, “Don’t move.”
He stands to his feet, collecting himself through steady breathing as he walks across the room completely naked without a care in the world. Jake takes the moment to tip your chin up and lean down to place his lips to yours, persuading you into a sensual kiss. You don’t dare move an inch as you feel Josh’s release dripping down the back of your leg. Thankfully, he returns within the minute, bringing a warm, damp towel to clean you with. 
After his brother is done taking care of you, Jake bolts upright on his knees, sending you crashing into Josh’s chest, pinning his brother beneath you against the opposite arm of the couch.
You erupt into a fit of giggles as Josh curses from the new position you’re both in. You’re wearing an expression of shock, but Jake only reciprocates with an amused raise of his left brow. “You really thought I was gonna be patient all night?”
Just as Josh had done minutes beforehand, Jake reaches back between his shoulder blades, and rips his black t-shirt off, throwing it somewhere onto the floor into a crumpled pile.
It’s the first time you’re able to see his bare torso so close to your face. Even so, your eyes can’t seem to focus on one thing in particular with the lack of lighting, but what you’re able to see is the distinct outline of a skull with a sword through it in the center of his chest, surrounded by roses and plumes of smoke. It would take you hours of tracing over every line, every inch of the art-covered skin to fully appreciate it all. 
He looks above you, locking eyes with his twin through a silent exchange as if they communicated in an unspoken language. Josh hums in approval, and rubs his hands down the length of your arms before wrapping his long fingers around your wrists. He lifts your hands, and folds them over each other to pin them both behind your head. 
Jake’s eyes find yours for a second, and you swear you can see darkness swirl within the irises like the unforgiving waters of a rough, uncharted sea. His gaze floats down from your face, pausing on your rising and falling chest before it eventually settles between your legs. He wraps his arm around your left thigh, leaving your right untouched, and pulls you up onto the tops of his legs. 
He slips the head of his cock over your clit, causing it to shine in your wetness. With a nudge of his fingers at his base, he guides himself in a teasingly slow pace down to your entrance. You’re impatient and desperate, lifting your hips to take him in. He bites his lip through his intense focus, finding that he doesn’t even have to push, and lets the release of your muscles do the work for him. He slides in effortlessly, stretching you inch-by-inch to the hilt. You both exhale through a strangled gasp, and he stills for a minute, feeling the tightness of your walls clench around him. 
His eyes close just as his head rolls forward with a breathless laugh escaping his chest, “I fucking hate when he’s right, but oh my god your pussy is incredible.”
Josh sings into the tresses of your hair, “Like heaven.”
The skull on his hand stares back at you when he places his palm on your belly while he thrusts deep and slow in each calculated roll of his hips. The added pressure on your stomach as the head of his cock brushes against the special spot with the pad of his thumb rubbing over your clit drags you off the edge into your second orgasm. 
Your upper arms ache as they strain through each flexing muscle you have to endure. It seems rather inconsequential because you don’t even feel like you're present with your physical body with time itself feeling irrelevant. Sounds become muffled like you’ve stuffed balls of cotton into them, even if at one point you’re sure you were screaming.
Jake’s not far away from that place himself, catching up quickly as he rides through the crashing waves of your climax. You wish to have each sway of his tangled hair or how a thin sheen of sweat has coated his body burned into your memory. 
You can see the internal battle he’s fighting with his temptations from the look in his eyes that are hidden behind his furrowed brows. He hisses through clenched teeth when reluctantly pulls out from you, and because of the timing, it doesn’t even take a full stroke of his hand before the ropes of his warm come splatter across your stomach. You flinch at the feeling, and Josh releases his hold around your wrists so you can relax them by your sides. 
The three of you take the following minutes to come down from the collective high as your breathing starts to calm down to a normal level. No one has said anything for a while, so you decide that you’ll be the one to break the tension first, “So… do you take credit cards?” 
Josh barks out a hoarse laugh, “Shut the fuck up.”
Jake adds to the laughter, and runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He slowly maneuvers off the couch to a standing position beside you. “I think it’s safe to say this one might be on the house.”
Tucking himself back in his jeans while simultaneously looking for the washcloth, he turns to his brother and instructs, “Josh, go ahead and disinfect this couch again.”
Josh groans in annoyance while falling back against the arm of the couch, pushing his sweaty curls from his forehead. 
You’re given a new towel to wipe the evidence from your stomach as Jake collects your dress and underwear off the floor and hands them to you. “Here, dove. The bathroom is down the hall and to your left if you want to clean up a bit.” He then looks to Josh, addressing him directly, “Let’s lock up so we can get her back home for round two.”
You feel like you’re weightless, floating across the room, and only making it halfway to the bathroom when you hear Josh blurt out, “Round two?!” 
I think we have something here. 
TAGLIST:
@gretavanbitches @shesawomaninadream @dannyandthekiszkas @welightthefire @ageofnations @lvnterninthenight @pennylanefics @writingcold @alexxavicry @maverick-rose @loveesosweet @gvfficrecs @jakeyboiiiiiii @doodle417 @richjaaasss @pr41sethemoon @mamalikes-gvf @lo-pe-ak @josiee-gvf @milkgemini @sammiejane22 @gretavanbear @shutupdevvie
If you’re interested in being added to my taglist for future projects, fill out the new form here!
817 notes · View notes
Text
things I do to unstick my book
(I’m a pantser!)
Ask if this scene really needs to be a scene or if I can just summarize it
Ask if this summary really needs to be summary or if I need more scene
Write a very focused, very pretty sentence
Circle back a couple scenes & ask if one of them is causing “symptoms” later in the book
Get in and get out (push through a tough scene as fast as possible & then run forward and fast like wind to the next bit)
Add an exciting element (a new character, a change of location, other… things ;))
Pause and revise if I’m feeling destabilized
Be specific about what I DON’T like (example: I can’t get past this scene because the dialogue is so mechanical instead of “ahhh I hate it all”)
Read what I last wrote aloud (to hopefully sink into some momentum) OR get a robot to read it to me
Try a teeny tiny writing sprint (1-5 minutes of nonstop writing)
Write a flashback (bonus points if it’s connected emotionally or plot-wise to the fictive present)
Read from a literary godparent (this is when you pull out the books/stories/poems etc that make you excited about writing!)
Write or brainstorm every possible direction of a scene (sometimes grueling, sometimes worth it)
Sit and think (in a bathtub, on a walk—try to immerse yourself in your story like you’re a random character who got plopped in there; what do you see?)
Method write
Find a word that excites you and use that in your next scene
Double check if you’re hitting the right story beats (or if you skipped one, spent too long on one, spent too little on one, etc)
Write “bare bones” and come back to fine tune it later (similar to get in and get out)
Write with your eyes closed (be warned of incomprehensible text if you can’t type with closed eyes)
Break down your causal chain bit by bit (even the boring parts) and see if there’s a broken link. Then delete the boring parts (sometimes we just need to see how EXACTLY we got to a place and how EXACTLY that leads us to the important bit--I find I missed something critical when I do this).
Rely on crutch words, boring details & trust you can edit it later (sometimes the idea of perfection in draft 1 can be unproductive)
Ask a friend to read the work & tell you what they think (sometimes we need help; writing is hard)
Ask a friend for a compliment read (sometimes we just need to be hyped up)
Change the tense (temporarily & be warned that different tenses may require different approaches when drafting, I only do this when I’m not sure what else to try)
Talk myself through the problem as if I’m talking to a friend (I pull up my notes and literally start typing: “so I’m struggling with XYZ scene right now for XYZ reason and I don’t know what to do. What if XYZ happened, or what if I changed XYZ?”)
Take a break—sometimes I’m just tired/burnt out/not in the mood to write (that’s okay!)
I post more tips I’ve picked up along the way on youtube!
1K notes · View notes
milktei · 11 months
Note
Hi! I was wondering if your requests are still open, if so, could I maybe pwease have an Osamu OS with angst but comfort at the end? Like Samu is super busy with the restaurant to be with his partner, so his partner hangs out with Tsumu and it makes Osamu jealous? Thanks in advance!❤️
Jealousy and Love
Tumblr media
Miya Osamu x gn!Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Minor manga spoilers. not edited :P
Requests: Closed for now as i catch up on both requests and school
a/n: Hope this is to your liking! I feel as if the ending was a teeny bit fast for me but i couldn’t think of what else to write lmao. Writing in the twins and there accent is a big of a hurdle for me but i enjoyed writing it a lot :3
Tumblr media
Waking up to an empty bed is something you had grown to get used to.
The opening of Osamu’s restaurant meant that he was extremely busy, he was there from opening to close, cooking, serving customers, watching his employees, budgeting, creating schedules.
The business was far from a well oiled machine at this point, but you couldn’t be more proud of your boyfriend for making his dreams become a reality.
Still, you couldn’t help but feel the sting of loneliness that creeped up on you whenever you saw his side of the bed empty.
It was the weekend, a day where you didn’t have work but your boyfriend did. A five day work week was just not possible with his restaurant.
You sighed as you turned over in bed again, having been up for over an hour at this point. Deciding to not let the rest of the day go to waste, you got up to in hopes to do something productive.
You had managed to start a load of laundry when you heard a knock at your door.
You looked at your front door in confusion at the sound, you hadn’t been expecting any company or deliveries that day. You stood there wondering who it could possibly be.
Another knock.
“Oi! Anyone home?”
Ah. That answered it.
You walked to the front door and opened it, revealing a mop of bleach blond hair that was all too familiar to you.
“Atsumu? What are you doing here?”
The man pouted at you, “whatever happened to “hi Atsumu! it’s good to see you.”?”
You stared at him blankly, “hi Atsumu, it’s good to see you. What are you doing here?”
He huffed “Well hello to you too. If you must know I’ve weirdly found myself with a lot of free time and thought that I would take that time to spend it with my dear brother and his partner. Now can I come in?”
You opened the door wider and moved aside to let him in, “so in other words. It’s off season and you’re so bored with all your free time that you decided that it was time to bother Osamu and I.” you paused, “don’t you have partner to bother instead?”
Atsumu scoffed as he took his shoes off “no need to rub my loneliness in y/n”
You sighed “No I think we’re in the same boat.”
He sat down at your dinning table and nodded in thanks when you put a glass of water down in front of him. “‘Samu’s not here? It’s the weekend.”
You sat in the chair front of him “No he’s been busy with the restaurant these past weeks.” It was your turn to pout “He’s really only off on Sunday’s and even then he’s usually exhausted.”
“So what you just sit here alone most days? when’s the last time you’ve gone out and done something fun?”
Your silence was enough of an answer to Atsumu.
“Well this is just unacceptable!” Atsumu suddenly stood up from his spot startling you with his outburst, he pointed at you “as the certified funner twin, I say that we go out to have a fun brother, partner-in-law day out!”
You looked up at his wide grin in shock “Your brother and I aren’t married-“
“So where do ya wanna go? I’ll pay.”
You opened your mouth to protest but stopped. It really had been a long time since you’ve gone out to do something fun as you were waiting for the day that Osamu would be free again.
But that seemed so far into the future. When would another opportunity like this present itself again?
“Well…” Your started, “there’s this cafe I’ve been wanting to go to, and down the street from it is the claw machine arcade that we haven’t been able to go to yet.”
“Great! Let’s go!”
Atsumu excitedly made his way to the door before you called out to him. “Atsumu wait!”
“Whattt? Don’t flake on me already.”
“At least let me get ready first.”
Atsumu looked at the state you were in. Still in pyjamas, hair a mess, and wearing your house slippers.
He silently made his way back to the dining table and slid back into his chair.
“I’ll wait here, take yer time.”
———
Your time with Atsumu had turned out to be a lot more fun than your would care to admit to the blond, in fear that his ego would grow bigger than you could handle.
The cafe you suggested had a calming atmosphere along with wonderful food and drinks. You could tell that Atsumu liked the place too with how many pictures he was taking of the place.
The claw machine arcade also showed just how stubborn the man was.
“Atsumu you’ve spent more at this machine than what the prize is worth. You could probably find it onli-“
“Ya don’t understand y/n! it’s the feeling of finally winning that matters. I’m so close I just know it.”
“…if you say so.”
In the end, Atsumu had won that prize, and combined with the prizes you had won, you were bringing home a multitude of things ranging from plush toys, to figures, and even snacks.
You insisted that Atsumu come back to your place for dinner, in a way trying to make up for how much he had spent during your time out in the city.
With Atsumu having found his spot on your couch with the tv remote, you were nearly finished cooking when you heard the familiar sound of a key unlocking your front door.
“I’m home.” You boyfriend called out as her took off his shoes.
“Welcome home.” You replied back.
There was a pause, “is someone here y/n?” Osamu asked from the entrance.
“Only Atsumu.”
“So no one important then.”
“Oi!”
Osamu appeared from the entrance and rolled his eyes at the sight of his brother lounging on the couch, walking to the kitchen he crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his kissed your cheek, you smiled softly.
Both of you ignored Atsumu’s fake gag.
“You’re home early.” you noted.
“Everything seemed to be going well, thought I could treat myself a little bit.”
“This is early?” Atsumu piped up from the couch
Osamu glared at the back of his brother’s head “Yes, the restaurant closes at nine, i’m trusting that my employees will be able to do it.” his eyebrows furrowed “why are ya in my house?”
Atsumu glared “First of all it’s yours and y/n’s house, second of all aren’t ya glad to see your only brother ‘Samu?”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It’s not volleyball season and he’s lonely.” You answered from your spot at the stove, ignoring Atsumu’s splutters of indignation.
You grabbed three plates and quickly set the table, inviting the boys to sit and enjoy an eventful dinner.
When you were finished, Osamu had grabbed the dirty dishes and began making his way to the sink when he finally noticed the large bag of prizes you and Atsumu had dumped on the living room floor.
“What’s all that from?”
“Oh!” you piped up in excitement, “those are from the claw machine arcade. Atsumu and I won a bunch of stuff, even snacks! you can look and grab some if you’d like.”
“He’ll no he can’t! I spent my precious sanity winning all that stuff.” Atsumu protested
“Atsumu I won the most prizes out of the both of us.”
“Well I paid for it along with yer order at the cafe.”
“You were the one who insisted!”
Osamu paused as the two of you bickered, “Cafe?”
You stopped your teasing to look at your boyfriend “Yeah! the one with all the flowers I showed you like months ago. I told Atsumu about it and he insisted we go.”
“I got pictures! ‘Samu look at this.”
The sound of dishes clattering aggressively in the sink was followed by silence.
“I thought that we were going to go together?” Osamu asked bitterly, he glared at the picture Atsumu was showing him of you mid claw game, “and you went to the arcade too? Without me?”
You looked up at Osamu from your seat, fidgeting nervously as he crossed his arms over his chest, “I know we talked about it before but we’ve never really had the chance. You’ve been so busy lately.”
“So you decide to go without me and with my brother of all people?”
The silence that filled your house was deafening. Osamu’s anger seemed to grow by the second.
Atsumu coughed awkwardly. “Ya know what I think it’s time I go, I’m suddenly busy. Okay bye!”
In record time Atsumu had grabbed his things and fled your home, leaving you alone with Osamu.
The front door slammed shut and the tension in the room bore down on you. Osamu’s glare kept you frozen in your seat.
“Well?” Osamu urged, wanting an explanation.
“I don’t know what you want me to say Osamu.” You said, defending yourself, “Atsumu offered and I couldn’t refuse.”
“Except you could.”
You looked at him incredulously, “and then what? We sit here in the apartment doing nothing instead?”
“No! You kick him out! Tell him to leave!”
“That’s your brother Osamu, I can’t just shut him out!”
Osamu scoffed, “yes you can, and you should have. Instead of running off to god knows where.”
“Oh so that I could sit in this apartment by myself doing nothing again? Do you know just how bored i’ve been?”
“We could’ve gone-“
You threw your hands up in the air,,“When!? when Osamu? When could we have gone out together for an entire day? You’ve been so busy that I can’t remember the last time we’ve been able to go out on a date.”
“That not fair y/n, you know that the-“
“Restaurant? Yes I know damned well about the restaurant and how it’s important for you to be there, especially in the beginning stages. But can you blame me for not wanting to wait around every single day?”
“We agreed early on that this would take time to settle, that I would be working long hour and I wouldn’t be able to be around as often. You knew this well in advance y/n. So yes I’m sorry that you have to deal with what you agreed with, and I’m so sorry that for once, the world isn’t revolving around YOU!”
You froze where you sat. Osamu had never been once to raise his voice at you,
“Do you really think that I’m that full of myself? That I think that I deserve all the attention in the world or else I will wither away?” you stood from your spot “Do you know how lonely it’s been for me? Just how much I’m willing to let go because I know how busy you are?”
“y/n…”
“Have you ever stopped for just a moment to think about how living in an empty house may make me feel? I wake up to an empty bed nearly every day, I come home from work to an empty house.”
you shake your head sadly. “If I’ve had a bad day at work I can’t even bring myself to voice my feelings because I know just how exhausted you are the moment you walk through that door. It hurts every time you ignore the dinner I’ve prepared and head straight to bed without even saying hello.”
“Three days Osamu.”
He looked at you confused “Three days?”
You chucked sadly, “that’s the longest we’ve gone without speaking, three whole days of living with what felt like a stranger rather than a boyfriend.”
Tears started to flood your eyes and you had to force yourself to continue. “Believe me when I say that I know more than anyone, how important this is to you. It is why I haven’t said anything up until this point. So forgive me if I decide that I want to spend some time out with a friend.”
With that you turned on your heel and made your way to your bed room, slamming the door behind you. Your breath sped up as the darkness of the room enveloped you and you barely made it to the bed before you found yourself collapsing into a pool of tears.
Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, angry at him for being angry at you, sad because it felt like he would never understand, even more sad because you felt like you were losing him.
You knew that you had gone over what to expect when Osamu had started his business. You knew that it would be tough and taxing but you also knew that you could get through it.
At least you had hoped that you could get through it together rather than apart.
It was some time before the door creaked open. You buried your face into pillow in an attempt to hide your remaining sobs.
The bed dipped where he sat and there was a moment of quiet, filled only with your cries.
“I…” Osamu started. He sounded apprehensive, unsure of what to say in the moment. He sighed, “This isn’t the life that we talked about when we first started dating. I never wanted it to turn out this way, and for that I’m so sorry y/n.”
As he spoke, you willed yourself to sit up and sit in the edge of the bed beside him. Still refusing to look directly at him.
You missed the way he way he looked at you in remorse, too occupied with your own hands fiddling in your latp.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “That I took my anger out on you, you don’t deserve that either. I just got stuck with this idea that you would always be home waiting for me. I got too comfortable with that. When I heard you had gone out with Atsumu without me…“
Osamu looked away in shame, “I guess I was just…jealous”
His words caused you to finally look at him in surprise, “Of your brother?”
he scoffed “I would’ve been jealous regardless of who it was. It’s just…I know I haven’t been able to spend as much time with you as I much as I want to. I know you’ve been wanting to go to that cafe among other places for a while now and the fact that I wasn’t able to take you there, it just made me mad. You told me about it first, I should’ve been the one”
“Osamu…”
“I guess it just reminded me that you are alone here because of how busy I am, and I turned the anger I was feeling towards myself to you instead. You are allowed to go out—no you shouldn’t need my permission to go out and do all the things you find fun.”
There was a pause before you spoke, “I know that you’re busy Osamu, you’re achieving your dream! I could never blame you for that.” another pause, “it’s just that I hope that now you can understand that there’s only so much alone time a person can take, and that I have another life outside of what happens in this apartment.
he sighed “I know.”
“I miss you ‘Samu.”
He smiled sadly at you, “I know y/n, I miss you too. So much.”
Without saying anything else, you crawled up beside him and wrapped your arms around him. He took the chance to pull you fully in his lap and hug you even tighter. He rested a cheek against the top of your head and the pleased sigh that followed made you smile.
“We have a bit to work out regarding our expectations of each other.” you lamented as you rubbed a hand up and down one of his arms.
He hummed in agreement, “I’ll be home tomorrow so we can talk each others ears off all day.” you softly laughed at his tease.
he continued, “and how about I schedule myself some time off and we can spend the entirety of next weekend together doing whatever you want.”
“I would really like that ‘Samu.”
He smiled and pulled you impossibly closer, as if you would disappear if he were to let go.
“We have to apologize to Atsumu first though.”
“if you insist,” Osamu groaned, “But for now, how about those snacks you told me about earlier?”
817 notes · View notes
genericpuff · 5 months
Text
On this week's episode of "Webtoon Controversies That Could Have Been Avoided If Only They Had Some Damn Quality Control"-
Oh boy, prepare yourselves, there's some TEA on this one.
Quantum Entanglement, a new Webtoon Originals series from creator Arts Angel (aka Sarah Ellerton) is uh... a teeny weeny painfully obvious that it was made with AI.
Tumblr media
AI is getting better, but when it comes to comics, there are still a lot of "tells" you can pick up on once you know where to look. Hands are certainly one of them.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Not knowing how to draw hands efficiently and consistently is definitely an Artist Problem(tm) but it becomes a lot more obvious it was made by AI when you get weird little off-putting mistakes like a fingernail being just a little too long or missing joints (hot dog fingers, eyo) or the distinction between fingers not being clear.
But there's also hair and other detailed parts that are often lost in the translation process between prompt to final piece. Jewelry, text on a screen, phones, that sort of thing. The insinuation of a 'thing' is there, but it's like looking at it through a fishbowl.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And ultimately, a lot of AI art tends to just be a little too 'perfect'. Everything is just a little too smooth for it to look like it was naturally made by a person. Faces end up veering into the uncanny valley territory and there are inconsistencies between the eyes and the rest of the body. Backgrounds become lost in what I like to call "AI goop", becoming nothing more than weird blurred/filtered out insinuations of what's supposed to be behind the character.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Basically, at this point, it's undeniably clear that AI is being used to create this comic. While there are also plenty of signs in the handiwork that show a human was involved in some parts, there are other places that are undeniably filled in with the use of AI. So it's not necessarily a 100% made-by-AI comic, but it's absolutely AI assisted.
But what's REALLY absurd about this whole situation? The creator denies it. To the point of including a disclaimer in the first episode trying to "get ahead" of people who are assuming it's AI by saying, "No, it's not made with AI, here's the proof! Don't look at the blood on my hands or the body in the trunk of my car!"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Now, first off, the absolute absurdity of making yourself look guiltier by trying to prove your innocence before people have even started to suspect you... I'd like to think that this was edited into the first episode after the initial accusations started rolling in but considering it's an Originals series, it's hard to know if it was, as creators typically don't get as much control over just editing their episodes on the fly like Canvas creators do. Typically it's their editors who do that sort of thing for them. And even if it was edited in afterwards, it's still there for people who have no idea going into the comic blind and might not automatically assume it was made with AI, so it just looks like you're bringing up the potential of AI being used completely unprovoked. By planting the idea in your audience's brain that AI is even a question, you're making them suspect everything.
It's kind of like when Dream was suspected of cheating in a way-too-lucky-to-be-real speedrun of Minecraft a couple years back, so he went to all these painstaking efforts of hiring a quantum physicist to "prove" his innocence with a straight up THESIS documenting all of the reasons he couldn't have cheated through math and figures and jargon. Ironically, this just made Dream look guiltier, and sure enough, he eventually admitted he had cheated.
That said, did you notice something in that "art process" pic?
Tumblr media
That finished panel isn't even what showed up in the final comic.
So the absurdity of this all, again, just makes Arts Angel look a lot more guilty of actually using AI, especially when it's basically undeniable in so many of those panels above. People don't paint like that.
But that brings us to talking about Sarah Ellerton, aka "Arts Angel", the creator. Many long-time readers of her work are defending this, claiming that she has, in fact, "always drawn like this".
What's insane? She actually is who she says she is. This isn't like some kid who came out of the woodwork with AI and claiming that they had 20 years of experience, Sarah Ellerton's main site, The Seraph-Inn, has been live and crawled by Wayback Machine as far back as 2005.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And you can see the art evolution over the years, starting with Inverloch-
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
-into Phoenix-
Tumblr media Tumblr media
-and all the way to Immaterial-
Tumblr media
But here's the thing about that last comic. The main protagonist is, apparently, the same girl from Quantum Entanglement, the newest installment in this series where it becomes abundantly clear the creator has started using AI.
Tumblr media
You can see the effects of this being parsed through AI, because she's gone from being a unique character with two-toned hair and darker skin, to being turned into a generic Instagram anime girl. And lemme tell you, AI used in comics has NOT gotten better at depicting darker-skinned characters (I actually tested an AI-coloring tool WT was planning on putting out a year or two ago, it was uh... not great.)
But the most damning thing about Sarah?
Tumblr media
She works in IT.
That on its own wouldn't be so telling if it weren't for the 20 years she clearly spent actually honing her craft, only to suddenly switch to using AI as a crutch.
Quantum Entanglement was picked up for Originals in July 2023. It launched two days ago, with four free to read episodes and 6 more under the FastPass paywall. Three months after it got picked up. That turnaround speed is insane for an Originals series. Now, I'm more inclined to believe that maybe she's using the exact same pages she used in the Canvas version (there's unfortunately no way of checking through Wayback, it never crawled the Canvas version, so unless someone has backups of the Canvas pages they're willing to share, we'll never know) but that short turnaround time is insane for a comic that's this insanely detailed. It likely means they didn't need much pre-production time to get a strong buffer going, and that it doesn't take them as long to produce these episodes on a weekly basis so they could be under way less crunch than creators who do this by hand.
By comparison, the winners of the Call to Action contest from last year are STILL working on their pre-production. Many other greenlit Canvas series are known for getting picked up and stuck in pre-production for several months and even a year or more simply due to how the company operates with when it chooses to launch these series and how much pre-production is necessary. Some creators have literally said that their pre-production was done, but WT still kept them waiting to launch. So three months for a freshly greenlit Canvas series to launch is NOT the norm.
All that said, I feel for the people who are trying to defend her. But it's so undeniably AI with the creator herself providing fake proof that it makes it really sad to think that this person was honing their craft for 20 years just to wind up utilizing AI. Being a good artist does not make you immune to the temptation of using cheap methods or developing bad habits. Going through "the struggle" does not make you immune to taking shortcuts that wind up cheapening your work or taking advantage of the work of others.
Now, maybe Sarah trained AI around her art. If this didn't play out the way it did, I'd be willing to give her benefit of the doubt and assume that. Training AI off your own work, while still up for debate as to how ethical that is, at least doesn't hurt other artists, because it's your own work the AI is "stealing". There are definitely ways AI could be used to make life easier for artists without replacing the art process entirely, the same way artists have learned to use 3D assets and digital art filters to make their process more efficient and boost the quality of their art up to the next level.
But the fact that she's being so cagey over it, claiming she's not using AI period when she very clearly is, providing "proof" that actually proves she definitely used AI, while operating under a penname that's strangely similar to a name Grimes - former tech wife of Elon Musk and staunch supporter of AI - used for one of her studio albums-
Tumblr media
- that's what makes it a lot more clear she's using it maliciously.
The AI is very likely trained off another artist's work. Maybe someone whose art style is similar enough to hers that she could integrate it into her own and pass it off as legitimate. Someone whose art style is cartoonish but still modern, like if Disney made anime. Someone who's so prolific and consistent in their stylization that training an AI off it would seem like a no brainer to those who want to replicate that style quickly and easily.
Tumblr media
Damn. What a disappointment. Do better, Sarah.
And for god's sakes, Webtoons, pay more fucking attention. I've been steadily picking away at moving the entirety of my comics over to other platforms on a weekly schedule, but at this point I kinda just wanna dump the last 30 or so chapters onto ComicFury all at once so I can ditch this platform for good, especially if it turns out AI comics getting greenlit is a feature, not a bug. The ratings for Quantum Entanglement have dropped significantly overnight, now sitting around 5.09 and still dropping, but is Webtoons going to do anything about it? That remains to be seen.
283 notes · View notes