#and then i started listening to them when i was awake

[celtic-crossbow]

For You, I'd Bleed Myself Dry

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early-ish Alexandria

Warnings: Suggestive (extremely mild); hangover

Summary: You're hung over and don't really remember how you got to Rosita's house the night before. Or what you had said on the way there.

A/N: Just a fun little drabble born of this incorrect quote. Suggested by @marvelcasey05

©celtic-crossbow 2023. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or placed on any other platform without my consent.

You didn’t expect to find Daryl still home when you wandered in the next morning. He was always an early riser, and though everyone else still slept, he would usually be long gone and outside the gates. So, when you tip-toed through the door and into the kitchen, your heels in your hand, he nearly scared the life out of you. You flipped the lightswitch and:

“Mornin’.”

“Jesus Christ, Daryl!”

The archer chuckled behind his coffee mug before tilting it the least bit more to take a sip. “Rollin’ in awful late.”

You shrugged “Or early, depending on how you look at it. Any left?” You nodded toward the cup. He gave a quiet mhm and got up to make you a mug. Your head was throbbing. You knew your makeup was a mess and your hair a disaster. You had slept in your dress at Rosita’s, so it was wrinkled and you were almost certain that it was only partially zipped in the back.The party hadn’t been that fun but the liquor had been flowing. That was why you went. Things in Alexandria had been stressful. Your group had been there a while. Long enough for so many problems to come along and be handled. The past week had been particularly eventful. Still, it had been handled and there had been some time to cut loose. 

So, you did.

You sat your heels on the counter and muttered a thank you when he slid the mug across the surface, narrowing your eyes across the rim as you readied for a drink. “Do you know how I take my coffee?”

“Guess you’ll need to take a drink an’ find out, won’tcha?” He was perching himself back on the island stool when you realized that Daryl Dixon was barefoot, wearing flannel pajama pants, and a faded Led Zepplin t-shirt. 

“You’re wearing people clothes.” You blinked, still holding the mug close to your mouth. 

Daryl smirked from behind his own cup. “M’a person, contrary to popular belief.” He took another sip, prompting you to take one of your own. He did know how you liked your coffee. Interesting. 

An ache in your left foot reminded you that you wanted nothing more than to go to your room and fall into a coma for a few hours. “I should probably take some—”

“S’behind ya. Got ‘em out earlier. Water too.”

There were two tablets on the countertop by the fridge, along with a glass of water. You warily picked them up, almost as if they would come alive and bite you. “Thank you?”

“Mhm.” 

Quickly swallowing them, you downed the water because coffee wasn’t the best tool for rehydrating, but you’d be damned if you’d give up that mug for anything. Collecting your heels and your coffee, you started walking backwards out of the kitchen. “Listen, I’m gonna head upstairs and get off my—”

“Perfectly good chair right here.” 

“What?” Now you were looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. There were no other chairs in the kitchen. Carol had the only other stool piled full of kitchen junk she had yet to put away. “Are you sure you’re awake?”

“M’wide awake. How’d ya get to Rosita’s last night?” 

Wait. Was Daryl blushing? “She helped—” No, that wasn’t right. Rosita and Tara came back long after you did. You distinctly remembered grumbling at them to turn off the lights. “How did I get there?” You said aloud, though softly.

“I took ya.”

Your shoes hitting the floor echoed through the quiet house, causing both you and Daryl to flinch. After a moment, no baby cried and no adults yelled. You walked forward and placed your mug back on the counter. “What do you mean you took me? You weren’t at the party.”

Cause Daryl’s home. He doesn’t like parties.

He shrugged but the pink tint to his cheeks was now traveling a route up to his ears. “Was workin’ on the bike. Saw ya stumblin’ ‘round in the dark. Didn’t wantcha to get hurt.”

“Did I—did I say anything stupid?”

And if I see him right now, I'm gonna ask to use his face as a chair.

“Nope.” The archer was staring at his coffee cup, rolling the smooth sides between his hands. He absolutely knew what you had said but he was giving you an out. Goddamn that man. He had to be beautiful, rough edged, and chivalrous at the same time? 

“Good.” You nodded. “Good. Thanks for the coffee.” You turned to walk out, leaving the coffee mug behind. “And for—you know, getting me there safely last night.” 

He nodded with a small, tight smile but didn’t say anything else. Maybe he was just teasing you. No, Daryl wasn’t the type. Well, he was but not with things that were at his expense. He was definitely going out of his comfort zone if the red tint on his face was any indication. Did he want to do that with you? You certainly wouldn’t mind. You’d wanted Daryl for as long as you could remember. Even before he started treating the group more like friends than survival buddies. There was always just something about him that called to you, pulled you in like a magnet, but there was this invisible line that didn’t feel safe to cross. Was he toeing that line with you now?

You might never get the chance again if you were to shut him down.

“Hey, Daryl.” You called from the stairs, barely looking over your shoulder. Your heart was racing.

“Yeah?”

“There’s—there’s no chair in my—what’re you—hey!” You were over his shoulder and being hauled down toward his room in the basement before you could do much more than laugh.

“Weren’t no way ya could make any line ‘bout a chair work.”

“Got a bed, right?”

“Got a mattress.”

“That’ll do, Dixon. That’ll do.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #Spotify

[hyuckfull]

failed attempts . . . ot7 riize x fem!reader / m-dni / (some) fluff & suggestive (implying that it will lead to that) / established relationship / not proofread

some of the moments whether innocent or mundane, escalating into something more all because neither of you could keep it in your pants

shotaro ☆ “you’re so tense love.” he says, massaging your back. your face is planted in between your pillows muffling your small groans and grunts every time he hits the good spots. he’d stretch your skin, hands doing long, smooth motions on your back applying pressure when you tell him “right there!” it was supposed to be innocent but everything reminded him of something else, he just couldn’t help it. and he’s trying his best to help you out when you asked him if he could massage your back cause you’ve been sat by your desk the whole day. yet the the twitching in between his legs are making it hard to apply pressure when he no longer wants his hands to do the work. almost mindlessly letting his fingers trail along your back and you’d shiver under his touch. from that alone, you already knew what he wanted. you turn around to face him, already seeing the bulge form in his shorts that he’s trying to hide. you kiss his cheek and pull him towards the bed. straddling his lap and tell him, “thanks taro, i’ll take it from here.” before fully taking off your shirt.

eunseok ☆ you wake up to an empty spot on your bed. only to be replaced by a ray from the sunlight that entered from the small exposed part of your window. you walk down the stairs and get a whiff of fresh bacon and eggs by the kitchen. you yawn, stretching your arms while walking towards your boyfriend who cooked diligently. he smiles when he feels you hug him from behind. “good morning baby.” he says, still paying attention to the sizzling pan in front of him. you let him go before sitting by the counter behind him. legs dangling while you watched him finish your breakfast. leaning against your hands as your try to stay awake. you blinked several times, listening to your boyfriend hum a song and the hot oil popping softly, only to be brought back when your boyfriend’s hand is on your bare thighs. “now this is too much even for me.” he says. and when you realize that you’re only wearing his shirt and your panties, you could only chuckle. “can breakfast wait later baby?” he asks you, already knelt down and kissing along your inner thighs.

sungchan ☆ his arms are wrapped around you while you watched a movie at the couch of your living room. it was a horror movie too, and you’d always cling to him when a jump scare shows up. sungchan would laugh at you but silently relishes when you’re hugging him so tightly. you’re trying your best to pay attention to the whole movie, yet at the 30 minute mark his hand ‘accidentally’ slips in between your thighs. strong long fingers forming a v to spread them out. if you had a penny for every movie you started but not knowing the ending to because you watched it with your boyfriend, you’d be eating in fine dining for dinner every weekend. your pitiful attempts of pushing him away and ignoring him was put in vain because with a boyfriend like sungchan, no one would blame you for giving in. “but i wanted to watch this movie.” you whine. he’d pull you on his lap and you’re sulking further onto him. sungchan chuckles before kissing your cheek, “don’t worry baby i’ll give you something better thing to scream for.”

wonbin ☆ he comes home late at night to find you sleeping on your shared bed. you wake up the moment you felt a dip at your side. you smile at him before you rest your head on wonbin’s chest, and he wraps his arm around you. as you try to doze off again, you could feel him soothe you. tucking away pieces of your hair so he can see your sleeping face. it’s his favorite, to see you so comfortable and rested, couldn’t help himself give you a small peck on your lips before he drifts of to sleep himself. when morning came you both decided to sleep in, taking both your day offs with as much rest as you both would like. not until you’re woken up with dark button eyes staring at you. “w-wonbin?” you’d say, slightly startled, blinking slowly to make sure you were actually awake and that it wasn’t a dream. wonbin doesn’t say anything, only pulling you closer and you already knew what he wanted when you felt something poke the side of your leg. i guess sleeping in would have to be moved back to your next day off together as you’re already pushing him back on the bed, positioning in between his legs.

seunghan ☆ you invited him over to study, and hopefully just to study. you had exams coming up this week but you think another day without your boyfriend would get you to collapse and finally give up. it’s been a week and a half since you’ve last seen him. which is you needed him so badly or else you’ll actually go insane, just his presence, nothing more. you already knew it’s going to be a bad idea because you know you wouldn’t actually get worked done when he’s there—hence the week and a half separation arrangement—but the moment you texted him he’s there 10 minutes later with flowers and a card that says ‘good luck!’ he insisted though, since he missed you so much that you sit on his lap. and he’d give you that face you can’t refuse, which what’s exactly happening as you’re both seated by your desk. you’re trying to answer your practice quiz while browsing at your laptop for notes—and he did his best to stay quiet to not disturb you. but the very second you felt something poke you underneath, you already know your study session’s over. “god hani! really?!” you drop your pencil, whipping your head around to glare at him. he’d chuckle while oulling you in for a hug. “i can’t help that you’re so sexy when you’re this focused baby.”

sohee ☆ sometimes you and sohee would disagree. and while rare, sometimes you and sohee would argue when you disagree. but this time you really didn’t want to argue and talk back, yet sohee is just really irritated at the time and is adamant on expressing his frustration. sohee didn’t shout, didn’t scream. only spoke in a firm tone with a mean stare. so you’re quiet, sat on the edge of the bed while he walked back and forth while he said that you, “are being too unfair.” because you were giving him attitude so early in the morning till now because he wasn’t able to properly pack the left over dishes in the fridge. it’s funny how you’re both arguing like a married couple, but what’s not funny was the ants on the kitchen counter. it was a tough week, the both of you were extremely tired and busy. you’ve said your piece and he’s almost done, ready to apologize. but in all honesty, you could no longer care about the argument, only focused on watching how his mouth move with every syllable, and how he licked or bit his lip when he took some time to think, or how he clenched his jaw when he’s getting irritated some more. maybe it’d be better if he used it on something else, is what you think. sohee definitely noticed that you’re no longer paying attention to him. you’re easiest to read when you’re wanting something—especially when you’re wanting him. you’re only brought back to your daydreaming-like state the moment he’s pining you against the mattress. “so this is how you want to make up baby? you should’ve said it sooner.”

anton ☆ he wanted to take polaroid photos of you one for his wallet, one for his phone, and the rest for his own personal benefit. from the front of the gates of your shared apartment, to your kitchen, till he’s snapping photos of you on the bed. letting the photos fall down as it developed on the mattress to to take another. since he’ll be out of the country for a few months he so badly needed these physical photos because it’ll actually feel like you’re there and not just a screen (and he wonders why you’re so obsessed with his photocards). it was so cute of him to ask you to pose around the house like his own supermodel. “you’re perfect baby, so pretty just for me.” but when you decided to tease him, moving the camera down to your shorts that you’re slowly pulling off. the quick click of the camera goes off and he finds himself struggling to breathe. and he’d take more and more pictures that reveal more and more of you. the hem of your panties, your shirt riding up to expose your stomach, or your pretty face that’s sucking on his fingers. soon the camera’s on your desk, no longer being used since he now had other plans to make sure he doesn’t miss you too much.

note . . . i did my best to make them shorter this time >< i failed (haha) i beg you guys to send me some riize hc suggestions pretty please ! also here’s a little post since i’ve been inactive >< still working on my anton & sungchan wips

© hyuckfull ❥ do not repost/translate/modify/copy and recommend my work outside this site! reblogs and comments are appreciated!

#riize smut #anton smut #wonbin smut #sungchan smut #eunseok smut #seunghan smut #shotaro smut #sohee smut #꒰੭⸝⸝´`⸝⸝꒱੭ by minnie ! ♡ #spicy ! ❤︎⠀ྀི ࣪ ˖ #riize headcanons

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Sprout [Pero Tovar x f!reader]

Read on AO3

Sequel to Seed.

Fandom: The Great Wall

Ships: Pero Tovar x f!reader

Tags/warnings: Pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, dirty talk, some angst and fighting but also making up with more sex, labor, you get it. Soft Pero!

Words: 5,999

Summary: After trying long and hard, you are finally pregnant. Pero is delighted, but now begins a time of waiting and fussing and, well, lots of sex. That's the plot.

When you finally become pregnant, you know it immediately.

It is eerie, almost magical, the way you just feel something take root in your womb. Not the presence of a person, but just something new, something growing. It is early morning, you awake before Pero, last night’s coupling still a warm, sticky memory on your skin along with his breath, his limbs so tightly wound around yours. You mean to rouse him with kisses and caresses, but then you feel it, and you just know. A blissful smile spreading on your face, you decide to relish this feeling for as long as you can, and so you just stay still and quiet, one hand on your lower abdomen. When Pero eventually stirs, hands and lips starting to claim you, you gently peel them off of you.

“I’m sore,” you whisper to him, accepting a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I’m sorry, my love.”

“Don’t be. I just need a rest.”

He pecks your lips again before releasing you to start the day. You hear him use the chamber pot, and when he comes back into the bedroom, he stops and looks at you, brows drawn together.

"What?" you ask.

"You look different."

"Do I?" You can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but in the same moment you decide not to tell him, not just yet. You want to be sure, live with this new presence by yourself for a couple of days.

"Yes."

He grabs his shirt and trousers, pulling them on while regarding you. You shrug innocently.

"Don't know what it would be."

That was all for that morning.

You tell him about a week later. The feeling of attachment deep within you had not diminished, and you have become more confident that it is real. During the entire week, you have gently turned down Pero's advances, citing tiredness and aches. Pero may be a loving husband, but he does not keep track of your monthly bleeding, and so he seems to have accepted that it's your time of the month, and been content with sweet caresses and kisses.

It's evening when you tell him. You're sitting together outside the house, facing the back garden. Surrounded by fragrance in the dying light, listening the first cicadas of the night starting the concertos, you feel that it is the right time to tell him.

"Husband," you start, lifting your head from his shoulder and facing him. "There is something I need to tell you."

His features are immediately painted with a wariness, like he is expecting bad news. Your sweet warrior husband, always ready for life to be full of hardships. You give him a reassuring smile.

"It's nothing bad, I promise."

"Then what is it?" he barks, hand squeezing yours like he's afraid you are going to get up and leave.

"I'm with child."

His eyebrows shoot up, leaving his eyes round and wide open, just like his mouth.

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes," you giggle now, his reaction too amusing not to cause you mirth. "I am certain, Pero, that you are going to be a father."

His face is as raw as it was on your wedding day, the joy shaving years off his scarred features. He raises your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles before pressing your hand to his heart, and then his lips are on yours. You feel him tremble a little, from nerves, happiness, or excitement you don't know, but you pull him in for the kiss, and he relaxes in your arms.

He carries you inside and lays you on the bed, never stopping to kiss you until he has to, in order to pose a question.

"Can we...?"

"I think we can," you answer breathlessly before pulling him in for more kisses. Pero needs no further permission: he lays down over you, stealing your breath away with him kisses before sitting up to get you undressed. When you're naked before him, he leans down to trail soft kisses over your belly.

"My child," he murmurs, looking up at you, eyes shining. "You will take care of my child, won't you?"

"You know I will," you promise, shivering from the goosebumps of pleasure induced by Pero's bristly skin.

"And I will take care of you, wife," he vows, trailing light kisses down between your legs, which fall open to accommodate him.

He’s more gentle than usual, more perceptive of your mewls, the way your legs twitch, your grip on the sheets. It may not be his intention, but he ends up tormenting you even more with his slowness. It is a stark contrast to the frantic fucking of the past few weeks. His seed, shot inside you on a daily basis, has finally taken root, and he seems determined to nourish that little sapling as best he can. Even if that means teasing you at the brink of release until you’re sobbing.

“Pero…!” You’re writhing, trying to push yourself against his mouth for the relief you need, but his arms tighten around your thighs, rendering your lower body immovable.

“Hush,” he admonishes you in a thick whisper. “You have to relax, my darling, you can’t get overexcited.”

You press the back of your head into the pillow and run your fingers through your hair.

“Please,” you whisper desperately, “please, Pero, I can’t bear it any longer.”

You know he’s smiling from the curve of his lips against your sensitive inner thighs, and then he finally takes mercy on you. The orgasm feels stronger than usual, maybe due to the prolonged, sweet torture, or because of your condition. When Pero presses a kiss to your inner thigh, you almost kick him, your legs coming together to seal in the pulses in your pussy, and you turn over onto your side to get away. He lets you be for a moment, hearing from your breathy moans that you are unharmed, but he soon takes a gentle grip of your arm, and makes you roll onto your back again.

“My love,” he hums, dipping down to brush his lips over yours. “Are you well?”

“Yes,” you manage, and that works as enough of a reassurance for him to press his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet enough, but you sense the urgency in him, and his cock is hard and leaking against your thigh.

“Come to me, husband,” you mumble, opening your legs anew. Pero is instantly between them, guiding his cock into you. He slides in easily enough as he lays down over you, and you brace yourself for his usual brand of frenzy. He does, however, stay still, sheathed deeply inside you, as he cradles your face and kisses you. You are full of him, so full, and yet you want more, so you raise your hips to urge him to move.

“Patience, my love,” he reprimands you gently, kissing your forehead before moving his hips only enough to be able to push them into your again. “We have time.”

“I need you,” you pout, happy with how it makes him swallow hard.

“I know, wife, and you shall have me every single day, but we need to be careful. “ Another thrust, slow but so deep, makes you whimper. “We will make sure that the baby grows big and strong.” He thrusts again and your nails press into his back. “I will make sure that you are satisfied, my love, and that our baby is happy as it grows inside you.” One more thrust has you running your nails down his back. Hissing, he punishes you with a stab of his cock right up against your womb, and when you bare your throat to him, he dives down to suck his love marks into your skin. His hips move with more insistence now as he fucks you bruising deep, and when he releases his seed into you, he whimpers in a way you have never heard before. Your arms wrapped around him, you pull him down over you, forcing him to stay inside of you for as long as he’s hard. When he finally rolls off of you, he whispers his I love you first into your ear, then to your belly.

A couple of weeks later, you have your first morning of being sick. Pero had taken to a morning routine of greeting both you and your belly with kisses and caresses, but he barely touched you before you fly out of bed, barely making it to the slop bucket in the kitchen before your stomach turns inside out.

Pero hovers behind you, unsure how to help you as you retch into the bucket, but when you rise and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, he’s there to embrace you, combing your hair away from your face.

“Are you done?”

“I think so,” you tell him weakly, and he carries you back to bed and tucks you in before bringing you water. He then proceeds to building a fire, and making breakfast that he brings in to you.

“You don’t have to fuss,” you tell him, a little embarrassed at his extreme measures. “I’m perfectly capable of making us breakfast.”

“You need rest,” he tells you with a finality that you have never heard from him before. “Take it easy. You work so hard already.”

“No harder than you.”

“When I’m not escorting caravans, I don’t do much. Now eat, if you can stomach it.”

You can, and you’re suddenly ravenous.

After breakfast, you take your basket and go down to the marketplace to do your daily shopping, and when you return to find Pero outside the house, brushing down the horse, you sigh deeply as you put down the basket.

“Well, everybody knows now.”

“Knows what?” Pero asks, resting one hand on the horse’s strong neck. The warm sun has already turned his hairline damp, and he’s squinting against the light. You give him a what do you think? look, and he nods.

“I threw up the second I smelled fish,” you tell him, the sour taste still fresh in your mouth. “We’re having meat for the time being, husband.”

He shrugs, not having a preference one way or the other.

“Suits me fine. Are you well?”

“I’m fine.” You pick up the basket again and kiss his cheek, careful not to exhale what with your breath being so foul. “I’ll go in, put all this away.

“Leave the basket, I’ll carry it inside when I’m done with the horse.”

“I can do it, it’s not heavy.”

He glares at you then, clearly unhappy, but you kiss his cheek again.

“Don’t worry, Pero.”

But he does worry. And his worry grows with each day that starts with you throwing up. You are not showing, and the only sign of your condition, to him, is you being sick. He can’t feel what you feel, the presence inside you, although he tries every night, digging deep and slow into you until you’re begging him to cum because you can’t take it anymore.

That worry culminates one afternoon when he catches you carrying water from the well in your garden.

“Just what the hell do you think you are doing?” he glowers at you as you step in, burdened with one bucket in each hand. You stare at him, not even understanding what he’s talking about.

“What do you mean?”

“You shouldn’t be carrying something so heavy!”

“Pero – “

“You need to be more careful.” He makes it sound like you have been living irresponsibly, and it makes you furious because he has never spoken to you like this before. That scowl of his would scare anyone else in the village, but not you. You simply put down the buckets, your hands coming to your hips as you scowl right back.

“Now you listen to me, Pero Tovar! I am not frail, I am not ill, I am able to perform my chores! I may be pregnant, I may not be able to keep my breakfast, but there is nothing about my state that is abnormal!”

He seems a little taken back with your response but collects himself quickly.

“You should be resting more,” he insists, “and you getting this upset isn’t good for you, either.”

“I am not getting upset, you are making me upset!” you snap, heat rising to your cheeks. “I am doing fine and I would be doing even better if you weren’t so hell-bent on making me feel like I was dying!”

“It is precisely to stop you from dying that I am being so protective!” he bites back. You clearly hit a nerve there, and you’re angry enough to keep pinching it.

“So I cannot carry water during the day, but you can nail me to our bed every night?” you spit. “That’s a very strange way of protecting me, is it not?”

His jaws move, like he’s screaming something new at you, but then he casts down his eyes, his frown still prominent and neck muscles bulging. You cross your arms in front of your chest, waiting for his next move, but he just mutters something before storming out. You stare at the closed door, not expecting his departure. Pero has not survived by backing away from a fight.

You go on doing your chores, your blood coming down from its boil, and by the time supper is on the table, Pero returns. He stands by the door, leaning against it like he’s unsure that he’s welcome, but you gesture silently at his customary seat at the table, so he comes and sits down. You serve the food, you both eat it, and not until your plates are empty does Pero clear his throat.

“I’m sorry for earlier.”

You meet his soft gaze, seeing the regret – but also fear.

“Husband,” you whisper, but he shakes his head.

“I’m so afraid of losing you, my love.”

“I know.”

“I have never had anything as… good, and beautiful, as you, and the thought of losing you…”

“I know, my love,” you nod. You know this fear, but you have not known the same hard life as Pero has, and that helps you in not being ruled by that fear.

“Losing both you and our baby…”

“But you won’t,” you cut him off, softly but with conviction.

“You don’t know that. There is so much that can go wrong.”

“I don’t know that, no. I just believe it. I believe we will be okay in the end.” You reach your hand across the table, and Pero takes it. “Can’t you believe with me?”

A small, hopeful smile lights up his face. “I’ll try.”

Leaving everything on the table, you take him to bed. As you undo his belt, the belt pouch falls to the floor, and you hear the clinking of glass.

“Fuck,” Pero grunts. “I forgot.”

He bends down to pick up the pouch, pulling two bottles from it. He exhales in relief when discovering that they’re not broken.

“What are those?” you want to know, eyeing the two bottles, one larger, the other no bigger than Pero’s thumb.

“I went to the midwife,” he tells you, rolling the small bottle between his fingers. “She says that a couple of drops of this on your tongue every morning will help with your vomiting.”

You pick up the bottle and pull out the cork. The sunny, sweet smell of oranges wafts out. You quirk a brow and look at Pero, who shrugs.

“It’s worth trying, don’t you think?”

“It is.” You put the cork back and close your fingers over the bottle. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s been hard for me to see you be so sick,” he confesses, hand coming to a soft rest on your waist. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

“It’s not so bad, husband,” you assure him. “It’s just in the mornings, and it’s not going to last.”

“I hope the tincture will help.”

“If not, you have another bottle?”

“Oh.” Pero holds up the bigger bottle, as if he had forgotten about it. “This is not medicine.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s oil for your belly,” he explains, and now his gaze turns soft. “The midwife said that as your belly begins to grow, the skin often turns dry. This is to help with that.”

You smile, your hand coming up to his bristly cheek.

“That’s so sweet of you, Pero.”

“I promise I’ll rub it onto you every night, starting now,” he vows with a mischievous little smile, and you giggle.

“I’m not showing yet!”

“The midwife said it’s important to start before the skin begins to stretch, so would you please take your clothes off, wife, and lie down on the bed.”

You laugh, but it’s not you who ends up lying on the bed, it’s Pero.

“You’ve been so good to me,” you purr, sitting astride him and teasing his cock hard by rubbing your cunt against it. “Let me take care of you now, husband.”

“Yes,” he swallows hard, “my love, please.”

You kiss the wet tip of his cock, nip at the head, trail the veins down his length with your tongue, make him whine and writhe and come apart for you. You give him only a moment to catch his breath before you take his cock in your hand and stroke it to keep it hard. Pero inhales with a hiss.

“Oh, fuck, careful…!”

“I am being careful,” you promise as you keep your touch light. “I just need to make sure that you are able to service me, husband.”

“Always,” he chokes as you sit astride him.

“My cunt is hungry for your big cock, my love.”

“Oh, please… please… ahhh!” You sink down on him, your wet cunt splitting open but taking all of him, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you exhale in a loud moan. Your eyes have closed involuntarily, and when you open them, you see Pero looking up at you with awe in his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers, and you bend down to kiss him.

“I love you, too.”

His hands splay over your lower abdomen. “And I love you.”

You kiss him again and start to move your hips. Your love life has been less frantic since you became pregnant, but it is not lacking in passion. Your slow, meticulous grind reflects that, and when Pero reaches for the oil bottle next to him on the bed, you sit up straight and let him rub the oil onto your skin.

“You are so beautiful,” he sighs as he circles his rough hand over your soft stomach. “And you will be even more beautiful when you start to show.”

“Will I”? you coax him, and he nods.

“I want you to ride me like this when you’re big and round, wife.” His voice drops, and the way it drips hot honey down your spine makes you clench. “I want you to take your pleasure from me likes this when you’re so big that you can hardly move, and your tits are leaking milk.”

“And if I can’t?” you breathe. His eyes are molten coal when he stares at you.

“Then I will help you.”

With that, he slides hand to where your bodies come together. His oiled fingers dance easily on your nub, and with his help, you ride him home, taking his load deep into your slick, warm cunt.

Your nausea does not bother you as much the following morning. Pero credits it to the tincture but you know that something has shifted in your relationship, become easier and more earnest.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

You squeeze Pero’s arm against your side. “It’s a little too late for that now.”

“I can still tell them – “

“They need you,” you remind him. “So many people depend on you.”

“You are the most important one of all of them,” he points out, stopping in the middle of the street and turning to you. His free hand, the one that’s not holding the reigns of the horse, comes to rest on your slightly rounded belly. “You, and the little one.”

“It’s only a week.” You cup his cheek, stroke your thumb over his lips. “It’s not a long time. You’ll make good money, and I promise that I’ll rest.”

He raises his brows, and you laugh at his skepticism.

“I promise!” you hold up your hand to your chest. “I promise, Pero, you know you can trust my word, right?”

“I know,” he nods, now smiling, before dipping down to kiss you softly. The horse snorts, and Pero ends the kiss with a quick peck on your lips, before you once again take his arm, and walk to the town square where the caravan is getting ready to leave. Pero was early on asked to provide security for it, and even though he was loathe to leave you for an entire week, both of you knew he would. Winter is on its way, trading will come to a stop, and he will be free to spend the rest of your time at home.

You nod at familiar faces when you reach the square, but soon have only eyes for Pero as he takes you in his arms. You expect admonition and reprobation, but only receive whispered assurances of his love for you.

“You will take care of yourself, won’t you?” he finally asks, when the caravan leader is announcing departure. You give him a naughty smile.

“Take care of myself how…?”

He grins back. “You know how. I left you the oil, and the memory of me.”

“My own fingers are nothing compared to you, my love.”

“As my hand is a meagre substitute for your warm, wet cunt,” he breathes against your ear. There is time for a hot yet subdued kiss, and a quick caress of your belly, before Pero has to mount his horse. He blows you a kiss and is off.

The week passes slowly and uneventfully. It rains a lot, which means you keep mostly indoors, and it makes you a little restless. The baby is restless as well; you feel it twitching and floundering almost every hour that you are awake. It is a comfort, knowing that you are not alone, but you still miss Pero.

It is late night when he returns. You are already in bed but the sounds of the wagons returning to the village draws you out of bed. You pull a shawl around your shoulders, but don’t get dressed, loath to leave the warmth of the house to go out into the late autumn chill. It does not take long before Pero rides into the yard, dismounting midstride when you come out onto the doorstep. He rushes to you, lips on yours before he’s even wrapped his arms around you. His lips are cold but his breath is warm, and his body fits to yours perfectly, shielding you from the cold.

“Are you well?” are his first words to you.

“We are both well, husband. How about you? How was the journey?”

“Uneventful. I am unharmed.”

He falls to his knees, hands tracing the roundness of your stomach through the nightgown before pressing a kiss to it.

“Hello, little one.”

You feel the baby move, and then a powerful jerk. Pero flinches, then looks up at you, mouth open.

“Was that…?”

“Yes,” you smile, hand coming to cup the top of his head. “That was our baby, my love, saying welcome home.”

“Was it really?”

You nod, your smile growing wider as you watch Pero stare at your clothed belly, hand circling it in search of another kick. A light breeze sweeps across the yard, and you shudder.

“Let’s go inside, husband.”

He has to put away the horse first, so you prepare a small supper while you wait for him to come in. When he finally does, he forgoes any food, instead taking you to bed. Balls deep in you and kissing your breath away, he tells you over and over again how much he loves you.

Winter slows down the entire village, although you feel slower than ever before with each passing week. Your belly grows, and with it your tiredness. Your feet hurt, your hips hurt, you back hurts, you feel clumsy, and you're hungry all the time. Pero takes all your griping in stride, helping you with your heavier chores that you finally relinquish to him. He rubs your belly and breasts with oil every night, and pleasures you with his mouth, fingers, and cock every time you ask for it – which varies from day to day. Some days you cannot have enough of him, others you can barely stand the thought of sleeping with him. Your patient husband takes no offense at your ever-changing mood.

You realize very soon that you have been incredibly lucky in your choice of husband – not that you didn’t know that before, of course. When going to the marketplace and meeting the village women, your growing belly gives you a new role in the group. The younger women titter, the older give advice or tell crude jokes that make you blush.

“Glowing skin, hazy eyes,” one comments one morning by the vegetable stand, “and him looking like the king of the world. Neither one of you goes wanting, that’s for sure.”

Your cheeks heat up. The comment is spoken without malice, and in a pleased tone, but it feels like the speaker had direct access to your bedroom that morning, seen you come apart on Pero’s cock, witnessed him fuck his cum deep inside you.

You mumble something, and the older woman chuckles.

“I’ve had five, and my husband serviced me with all five of them. A father’s seed will make the baby grow strong. Your child will be born big and healthy, I can see that.”

The baby moves in your belly, bringing a smile to your face. You look up at the woman, see her friendly face, and thank her, before slinking away and finding Pero at another stand. He takes the basket from you, offers you his arm, and you walk home together. As you put away your purchases in the kitchen, Pero breathes life back into the fire, and you sink down onto a chair with a sigh. He runs his gaze over you, a frown on his face.

“Are you okay, my love?”

“Just a little tired,” you promise as you rub your belly. The baby kicks against your hand before settling down, maybe to sleep. You look at your husband, crouching by he fire, and clear your throat.

“Pero?”

“Yes?”

“Do the men in the village talk about… pregnancy?”

He looks up at you again. “What do you mean?”

“The women – “

“Women talk a lot of rubbish,” he scoffs, and you grimace at his dismissal of your sex.

“Sorry,” he immediately apologizes, and you glare at him to let him know that he is only barely being let off the hook. “Tell me, my love, what do they say?”

“They talk about pregnancy, how the baby is carried, what sex it probably is, cravings, pains, aches… and intimacy. And I was wondering if men do the same.”

Pero directs his attention to the fire for a moment.

“They do speak of the pregnancy, but more of the children once they are born,” he tells you softly. “They speak of what it is to watch a child grow, how to provide for it, the way you worry about it all the time.”

“But nothing of the pregnancy?” you press, and he shoots you a teasing smile.

“A little, but only things I will not repeat to you.”

“Pero, I am no dainty little thing that you have to protect!” you roll your eyes, and Pero laughs before putting another log on the growing fire, then closing the hatch.

“I do know that, wife,” he acknowledges. Coming to his feet, he walks over to you, and sinks to his knees before you.

“I will tell you what they say,” he rumbles, his deep voice making your heart skip a beat. “Many of them speak of wives who become voracious when heavy with child.”

His hands, warm and large, rest softly on your knees, and start to carefully separate your thighs. You lick your lips quickly, leaving your mouth open as your breath turns heavier.

“They speak of wives who crave cock every single day.” Pero lifts your skirt up, leaning in to kiss the inside of your thigh. “They say that fucking a pregnant wife is the best feeling in the world.” He presses another bristly kiss to your sensitive skin. “To fill her already full womb even more…” Another kiss. “To have her sensitive cunt wrapped around your cock… how she mewls underneath you as you fuck your seed into her… it is heaven.”

He looks up at you, eyes dark, a smug smirk on his lips. “And they are right.”

“Pero,” you beg breathlessly, your cunt dripping from his words, your body ablaze for his touch.

“Come here, my love.”

He pulls you down on the floor, and you help him undo his trousers to get his cock out. Crouching astride him, feet firmly planted on the floor, you sink down his length, Pero supporting you with strong arms, even he can no longer reach around you. You ride him with impatience, one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping his leg behind you, your lips on his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

“My love,” he gasps, “take what you need from me, use me, just like that, use my cock…”

You whine before baring your throat and hanging your head back, chest out, Pero dipping down to suck a leaking nipple into his mouth. You moan as your body is in spasms from the sweet release, and Pero plants a hand on the floor behind him, and thrusts up into you, grunting with effort as he seeks his own climax. You encourage him with moaned filthy words of your own, choked out as he slams into you, again and again, until he grips your buttock hard to keep you still on his cock, and you feel him fill up your core.

He lays down on the floor after, pulling you down next to him to give you a sweet kiss.

“My darling wife,” he sighs before kissing you again.

“My darling husband,” you smile, a satisfied shudder running through you as his seed oozes out between your swollen lips. “I am utterly disheveled. I won’t be able to show myself at the sewing circle later today.”

“Good,” he yawns, pulling you closer. “It is a husband’s duty to keep his wife disheveled with his love.”

“I cannot argue with that,” you giggle, and he kisses you yet again.

It starts in the early hours of the darkest winter morning. You wake up from a sharp pain, and before you’re properly awake, you realize that your nightgown is soaking wet. As you sit up to light a candle, another stab of pain makes you whimper, and you drop the fire striker. Pero stirs and reaches for you, only to be awake and sitting straight almost immediately.

“It has started,” you whisper. “I’m all wet. Pero, light a candle.”

He does as he’s told, and you throw the covers to the side, finding that your water has broken. No blood, as you secretly feared, but only water.

“I’ll get the midwife,” Pero tells you resolutely, but you can hear the worry in his voice. “My love, are you in very much pain?”

“Not too much,” you reassure him, getting out of the bed as he springs up to get dressed. You pull your shawl over your shoulders and start walking around, as the women of the village have told you to do. The pains come in sharp stabs, but they’re manageable.

Pero looks desolate to leave you, but you wave him off with a smile and a kiss.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just go get her.”

When the midwife arrives, she gives you a quick examination before shaking her head.

“Go back to bed,” she tells both of you. “It’s going to be another day or even two before it starts, so get all the rest you can.”

“Are you sure?” Pero demands in his most imposing voice. The midwife does not even blink as she collects her things.

“Make her as comfortable as you can.” She turns to you. “Rest but walk around every chance you get. And if something seems amiss, come get me again.”

She takes her leave, and Pero grumbles about the lack of sympathy. You, however, have heard a lot more about labor, so you just shake your head at him.

“Help me change the sheets, husband, and come to bed. You heard what she said.”

“You are in pain!”

“It’s not so bad anymore,” you tell him truthfully, and start to strip the wet sheets from the bed. Loath to have you do it by yourself, Pero comes to help you, giving him something else to think about. When you’re back in bed, embraced and sleepy yet too nervous to rest, he caresses the roundness of your belly.

“I can’t wait to meet our baby,” he whispers to you.

“I feel the same.”

“What are you hoping for? A boy or a girl?”

“I don’t care,” you yawn, “as long as it’s healthy. Any child that is half you is going to be perfect.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Late in the following night, the contractions change, become more intense and frequent. You send Pero to the midwife again, and this time she stays. You have prepared during the day so there are linens and boiled water to be had. Pero is dismissed from the bedchamber, and you see that he wants to fight the midwife on that decision, but you just shake your head at him, and he heeds your wish. But when the midwife tells you that you are crowning, that the baby is coming, and the contractions are sucking all the strength from your muscles, you scream for your husband. He nearly takes the door off its hinges as he barges in, all but brandishing the sword he has not touched since his last caravan. He takes your hand between his and kisses it.

“My love,” he breathes, “my strong, beautiful wife. You can do it, I know you can.”

Your baby is born with a few pushes, and the first scream that cuts through the night makes your tears fall.

“You have a son,” the midwife announces as she wraps up the baby and puts it on your chest.

“A son,” you repeat, not really understanding the words.

“I have a son,” Pero mumbles, his voice thick. You glance up at him, but he is only looking at the baby.

“Pero…”

“I have a son.”

Suddenly, he spurts out of the room, leaving you to stare after him, mouth agape. You hear the front door slam open, and then Pero bellowing into the night:

“I have a son!”

You chuckle, tears streaming down your cheeks, and when Pero returns, his eyes are shining as well.

“My love,” he whispers. “My love. My life. I love you so much.”

You can’t speak, this is all too much, you are exhausted and hurting and happy and sweaty and bursting with joy. As the midwife retires to the kitchen, Pero lays down next to you, cradling the baby in your arms.

“My son,” he whispers, his voice thick. “We have a son, my love.”

“We do.”

“I will always take care of him, and of you, this I promise you.”

“You already do, my love,” you smile, and Pero kisses first your forehead, then the baby’s.

#the great wall fanfic #pero tovar fanfic #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x reader #my fic

[madangel19]

"are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." [ for ghouls of your choice]

This started out sweet and innocent with Dewdrop, Phantom and Swiss, but then it ended up smutty lol

Content: Handjobs, dry humping, fluff and smut, Phantom can't sleep so Dewdrop is gonna help him sleep

Word Count: 524

Phantom gazed up at the ceiling, unable to close his eyes. There was just so much on his mind that he couldn’t fall asleep. Even when he was sandwiched in between Swiss and Dewdrop, sleep just couldn’t come to him. 

He glanced over at Swiss who smiled in his sleep as he held Phantom close to his chest. His quintessence had a hold of him, but it wasn’t enough to put Phantom to sleep. He felt the type of high that made one think too much about life and he had to do some deep thinking. 

A soft purr from Dewdrop made Phantom look over at the fire ghoul whose warm body clung to Phantom’s back. He was fast asleep, his face nuzzled against Phantom’s neck. 

It was nice having them in bed with him, but he needed to talk to clear his head. 

Phantom turned his attention back to Swiss and he reached up to lightly caress his cheek. The multi ghoul’s purrs intensified, rumbling within his chest and making the bed shake. His arms tightened around Phantom’s waist, bringing him closer.

“Swiss. Wake up,” Phantom whispered before tapping at his pointed ears. They flicked in response and Swiss grumbled in his sleep, but it didn’t look like he was waking up anytime soon.

“Dammit,” Phantom sighed.

Swiss shifted in his sleep, letting go of Phantom and turning his back to him. Despite letting go, Swiss still had a grip on Phantom with his tail wrapped around his middle. 

Now that Phantom was somewhat free, he could try waking Dewdrop. He looked back at the fire ghoul and smiled at how peaceful he looked while he was asleep. Waking him was going to break that peace, but he needed to talk to him.

“Hey Dewdrop,” Phantom whispered, reaching over and lightly poking his cheek. Dewdrop’s eyelid twitched, but there was no other response. He was going to have to try harder. 

Phantom closed his eyes and sent a burst of quintessence in Dewdrop’s direction. His eyelid twitched again as a low growl emanated from the fire ghoul.

“Are you awake yet, Dewdrop?” Phantom asked.

“No,” Dewdrop growled.

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” Phantom replied with a defeated sigh. 

He tried to relax, gazing at Swiss’s back and listening to his gentle breathing. He would fall asleep sooner or later. 

A few moments passed and warm hands wrapped around Phantom’s waist, alerting the ghoul. Phantom looked over and saw glowing orange eyes watching him tiredly. 

“I thought you were asleep,” he whispered. 

“I was, but it looks like you need some help falling asleep,” Dewdrop grumbled, tugging at his pajama pants. Phantom already had an idea of what he was planning to do and he smirked as he cuddled closer to the fire ghoul.

“We shouldn’t wake Swiss,” Phantom whispered, wiggling out of his pants.

“If he wakes up, then he can join us. Now relax,” Dewdrop murmured, planting warm kisses along his neck as he made quick work of freeing his cock. The fire ghoul was already hard as he pressed his cock against his ass. Phantom smiled, biting his lip as he melted under Dewdrop’s touch.

#the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #dewdrop x phantom #ghost fanfiction #fanfiction

[signed-sapphire]

The Fallen Star ✨ Wish Reimaigned

Chapter 2 - The sorcerer

Tw: minor injury, flashing light in a gif, panic attack below the red “boom” (check the comments for a summary of what happens)

Chapter 1

Asha made her way over to the teens. She would inform them of her Sleepy/spindle idea at once.

“I’m sure the Royal Healers will find a way to help your Saba,” Dahlia was telling Hal sympathetically.

“..yeah,” Hal murmurs. She seems to remember herself and puts on a smile. “Yeah, he’ll be okay! My Saba is a fighter!”

“That’s the spirit,” Safi grins.

“Dario!” Hal exclaims, momentarily forgetting her plight. She runs up to a lanky teen and hugs him tight.

Dario grins and signs something with his one free hand.

“Oh, sorry!”

Hal steps back and Dario signs, Sorry I couldn’t make it! Gabo was busy training and I didn’t want to leave him alone.

“My abuela’s always like, gotta work to protect the royal couple,” a voice from below grumbles.

“Gabo! Glad you could make it,” Hal smiles.

“Hey, Hal.” Gabo crosses his arms. “Like, they’re infinitely powerful! Amaya knows potion magic! And there’s nothing Magnus wouldn’t do to protect his wife— even his daughter! For some reason…”

“Ahem.”

Gabo freezes at the towering figure above him. Asha glares down at the short peasant, nostrils flared. “Ah, Grumpy. I’m surprised no one has trampled you yet.”

“I’d offer you the chance to do it yourself but Your Royal Highness wouldn’t want to dirty her shoes with the peasants, would she?” Gabo snarks.

Asha crosses her arms. “You’re the grandson of the captain of the guard. Unlike your gaggle of friends, you’re not a peasant.”

Gabo huffs. “Thanks for the insult, Highness.”

“Gabo,” Bazeema hisses.

Gabo shrinks. “Sorry, Bazeema.” He glances up. “Sorry, Your Highness.”

Asha rolls her eyes. How sincere. “Anyways. You look sad, Happy. Which is ironic, considering you are usually very… loud. This is a nice change. But Magnus has his reasons. Sorry.” She turns to Sleepy. “Besides, I have the perfect idea to keep you awake.”

“Huh?” Simon yawns and turns to Asha.

The princess taps her foot. “Well,” she says addressing Simon, “it’s this magical spindle that pricks you whenever you start feeling sleepy! It’ll keep you awake! I know, I know. Amazing. What can I say except ‘you’re welcome!’” she smiles.

Dario signs something that has the other teens snickering, giving Asha an innocent look when she glares at him.

Gabo snorts. “Thanks for the ‘advice,’” surrounding the last word with quotation marks, “but we really don’t want any more royal decisions that ultimately end up helping us none.”

“Gabo,” Dahlia says cautiously.

“My— Magnus has reasons for what he does,” Asha says.

“Hal’s Saba is sick!” Gabo exclaims. “What reason does he have?”

“Gabo,” Dahlia warns.

“Watch your tone,” Asha says sharply.

“Why should I listen to you?” Gabo rolls his eyes. “You didn’t do anything to deserve being the princess—"

“Gabo! That’s enough!” Dahlia says firmly.

“What? She’s not even their daughter! All she did was have a “boo-hoo, I’m so sad” childhood and now she thinks she gets to dictate people’s lives—"

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Asha snaps. “I am your princess and you will respect me or so help me I will ban you from Rosas forever and you’ll never see your friends again!” She growls.

Asha exhales and runs a hand through her hair “Take him away.”

The guards hesitantly herd the teens off as Asha storms past them into the castle, Valentino scrambling to follow her.

She tried to help them, and this was the thanks she got?

“They’re so infuriating!” Asha shouts, slamming her door. She yells and grabs her vanity chair and throws it across the room, only for a magical blue net to catch it and gently return it to its place. A note pops onto the chair.

Asha groans and flops onto her bed, grabbing her pillow and screaming into it.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Valentino bleats and nudges Asha with his horns. Asha rolls over and pets his fluffy head. “Thanks, Val. I just… I know I’m not magic like Magnus. But I’m going to be. Soon. Just a couple more months until I’m eighteen. Then I’ll show them.”

Valentino tilts his head.

“I’ve tried Amaya’s “make friends” idea,” Asha deadpans. “It didn’t work.”

"Behhhh."

“What do you mean? Of course I tried!” Asha exclaims. “I was as nice as I could be!”

"Behhhhhhh."

There’s a knock on the door, the knock Anna did on Elsa’s door.

Dun dun dun dun dun

“Asha?"

“Come in,” Asha mumbles into her pillow.

Magnus steps inside. Valentino jumps up and bleats happily. The king grins and pets the goat’s head.

“Hey, Mags,” Asha says imperceptibly.

“Are you alright?” Magnus asks softly. “I saw you running off after the meeting.”

“I’m fine. Your roses come with a bunch of thorns, that’s all. You should prune the lot of them.”

Magnus sits by Asha’s bed. “Want to tell me what happened?”

Asha rolls her eyes and sits up. “Just… people are stupid.”

“Which people in particular?”

“Grumpy,” Asha mutters. “Him and his stupid friends.”

“The group of friends you were interested in joining?”

“What? No!” Asha exclaims. “Why would I want to join them? They insulted me! Well, he did, at least. Stupid little rose,” she grumbles.

“Grumpy… grumpy grumpy— ah! Little rose,” Magnus nods. “Was it Gabo Noceda?”

“Yes, it was Grumpy Whatever-The-Crap-His-Name-Is.” Asha crosses her arms.

“What did he say?” Magnus asks.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Just some bull about how I’m not really your daughter and I can’t do magic like you,” Asha mumbles.

Magnus purses his lips. “I see. I shall inform Captain Noceda of this as soon as possible.”

“Don’t. It’s fine,” Asha says. “I’m turning eighteen in a couple months. You can just grant my wish then.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow. “So you want to talk about this now?”

“Talk— talk about what?”

Magnus smiles. “One: Asha, you are my daughter, and you are Amaya’s daughter. We love you, you are part of our family, and you will always be loved. Okay?”

Asha looks uncomfortable.

“And two: we’ve been over this. You can tell me your wish, Asha. I promise I won’t judge,” Magnus says earnestly.

“I told you. I want to be a sorceress,” Asha says simply.

Magnus smiles softly. “Come with me, yeah?”

“I really don’t think—"

Magnus was already out of the room. Asha groans and contemplates throwing something again. Maybe out the balcony. Maybe it would land on Grumpy’s head. Oops.

She decides to follow Magnus instead. Valentino trots alongside her as they walk to his study, where Magnus waves a hand and the crystal doors open to the wish room.

Asha closes her eyes and basks in the glow of the wishes. “They’re… everything.”

“They are,” Magnus agrees. “They are the true essence of a person. A part of their heart. The very best part. As long as they stay here, they are protected. And they remain safe. When you turn eighteen, Asha, your wish will join them.”

He floats the wishes down, admiring them softly. “When that happens, I’d rather know your wish already than find it out on my own.”

“Mags, stop prying, okay?” Asha crosses her arms. “I told you. My wish is—"

“That may be a wish, but I only guard one’s true wish,” Magnus interrupts. “I can feel them, Asha. A sorcerer knows.”

“And when I’m a sorcerer, I’ll know too,” Asha retorts.

Magnus massages his temples. Teenagers.

How am I supposed to get through to her? I just wish—

Ah.

“Would it help if I told you my true wish?” Magnus offers.

Asha’s eyes dart to him. “What?”

“My wish,” Magnus clarifies. “I don’t think I’ve ever shown you it.”

“N-no,” Asha stammers, “you haven’t.”

Magnus grins. “Five years in our family and I’ve never once showed you? We must fix that!” His eyes are sparkling.

Asha winces, then walks up to Magnus, where he’s floating down the wishes. Music starts playing.

🎵 A Wish Worth Making 🫧

Magnus

Asha

The wish of someone like me

Magnus smiles at Asha as the room fades to a dark greyish

Someone whose hopes were in despair

Wind picks up and shows Asha’s sketchbook flipping, Magnus’ magic swirling and dancing onto the paper

After the smoke and screams

We see a sketched young Magnus (created from his magic, she didn’t actually draw this) look around the rubble

After the dust cleared from the air

He’s hugging Young Asha

I made a wish, with my whole heart

Holding her close, she’s sleeping and his hand is cradling her head, Amaya is sitting next to him

To never see yours breaking

Looking up at the Stars, seeing a small one peeking out from behind the clouds

That was my wish worth making

Yeah, everybody dreams

Real life Magnus, wishes dancing around him, the drawings fly off the paper to see Magnus and Young Asha studying books together

To be something, someday, somewhere

Even kings and queens

Daydream to be free from their royal chairs

I see a dream that’s got your heart

Clasping Asha’s hands

It’s not magic you want to be reaping

So tell me. What’s really your dream worth dreaming?

Asha pulls her hands away and turns off

I started as a wildling

Page flips back to drawings, Younger!Asha playing in the Hamlet

Playin' in the sun

Then that night came and crushed my dreams

A shooting Star flying into her house

I told them that the day would come

Young!Asha sobbing over Sakina and Tómas’ bodies

So I must wait my time

Young Asha with Magnus now, seeing a magic book labeled “Bringing Your Ohana Back”

You tell me, "Be nice, play fair"

Jumping off the pages again

But if I want to bring back mine, yeah

Real life Asha singing

I can’t be close to you, I have to prepare

Turns back to Magnus

'Cause you’re growing in my heart

There's no way you're not sowing

A new dream that I have to stop growin'

My wish is to not be apart

Singing over the light drawings as the room starts fading in again

But that means your heart breaking

Looking fondly at the light doodle of Magnus going back to being just ink

I can’t tell you my wish worth making… 🎵

Asha sighs, then turns back to Magnus. “I told you. I want to be a sorcerer. Just like you.”

She gives him her best Princess Smile™️. Luckily, Magnus seems to buy it.

“Fine. I’m letting you off the hook for now!” Magnus smirks. “But I’m getting it out of you somehow. Maybe during the Wishing Festival?”

Asha freezes.

“Will you be joining us this year?” Magnus asks softly.

Asha doesn’t respond.

“Asha?”

“Thanks for the talk, Mag. I’ll be in my room.”

Asha walks out of the room without a second glance.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Asha doesn't head to her room.

No, while in the wish room, Asha had a different idea on how to make Grumpy eat his words.

Magic.

Now, Asha wasn't magic. She didn't study the textbooks during those years growing up. But she knew which books taught you magic.

Including the special books that Magnus kept locked up in the cellar. His secret cellar. The one thing that remained untouched by the Stars that destroyed the previous kingdom.

Rosas was built on its foundations. Literally and figuratively. Magnus used a spellbook from the cellar to create the barrier around Rosas that kept Stars out. Surely Asha could use that spellbook to give herself magic a bit prematurely.

"This isn't to prove anything," Asha explains to Valentino. "This is just for me to get to my goal faster. Seeing Grumpy's happiness get crushed is just a bonus."

Valentino gave her a look.

"Come on, fluffy. Surely you'll want to know what they're like," Asha reasons.

“Baaaaaa.”

"Agreed. Let's hurry," Asha says.

She ducks under her adoptive father’s desk as he walks past, murmuring something about protection. She waits until he leaves, then crawls out and heads towards a lever on the wall.

Magnus had told her that was the one thing off-limits in his office. To never touch or pull it. He made her promise.

Asha pulls the lever. There's a shift, and then a click. The spiral pattern on the stone floor starts to move, and Asha watches as it opens up to a staircase, candles lighting them up like this ⬇️

"Here we go," Asha murmurs. "Come on, baby."

Valentino shakes his head. “Behhhhhh!”

“Okay. Wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Asha promises. “You be my lookout, okay?”

“Behhhhhhh!” Valentino bleats worriedly. (You’re right Anny, this is peak dialogue)

Asha kisses his forehead and descends down the stairs. The flames cast eerie shadows on the walls.

Asha shudders and presses on.

At the bottom of the staircase is a hallway, prison cells lining the walls. At the end is a door that leads to a large library. In the center of the room, on a pedestal covered in a glass case, lies the spellbook.

It’s old and leather bound, with an orobourus wrapping around two eyes (a sparkle shape and an oval). Five points stick out of the snake, forming the shape of…

A Star.

It’s… not what Asha remembered.

Asha studies the glass cover. There’s swirly designs of… dragonflies? Curiously, she reaches out, her finger brushing the glass.

There’s a zap, and the insects burst out of the glass.

Asha shrieks and starts swatting at the bugs diving at her. A sudden, sharp pain bites her hands.

THOSE WERE DEFINITELY NOT DRAGONFLIES!

Asha spews out curses as more red-hot needles stab into her skin, running around to avoid being stung.

Avispones!

Asha rips off her sash and slips off her outer dress, running from the hornets as she ties the end into a knot. She jumps around, catching bugs in her makeshift net.

Her hands and arms are covered in stings by the end of it. Asha covers her mouth and screams. What did she do to deserve this?

“Life is so unfair,” Asha mutters as she yanks off the glass cover and flips open the book. “Fire magic… rules of a genie… how to turn your household items into your servants?” Asha peers through the pages. “I’m not even going to ask.”

Finally. Asha stops on a page with moons and stars. “How to gain magic quickly and easily,” Asha reads. “‘Simply tear out this page and use it as a sorcerer’s hat. Then, harness the magic inside.’ Kind of vague.”

The page was still intact. Figured someone as powerful as Magnus wouldn’t need the assistance.

Asha tears out the page and curls it into a cone, placing it on top of her head. Immediately, the hat starts glowing and pulsing blue. A burst of magic explodes out of Asha’s fingertip and hits a broom leaning against the shelf.

Asha covers her mouth as the broom sprouts arms and starts sweeping.

“Ohmigosh. It works,” Asha breathes. “It works! It works!”

She does a little happy dance. “Take that! Boom, baby! Although I will have to find a way to pretty you up,” she says to the hat. “You’re sort of ugly right n— hey, watch it!”

The broom nearly ramms into her leg. Asha loses her balance, and another burst of magic shoots out of her hands. It ricochets around the room, and Asha yelps and ducks.

It shoots into the makeshift net housing the hornets, and Asha swears as she scrambles up and runs from the now free hornets.

“Get away! Stop it! Go away!” Asha shrieks as she runs, blasting more magic at the devils chasing her.

The broom kept on knocking things off shelves. More bouncing magic blasts crashed around the room as Asha kept missing her attackers.

That’s when one of Asha’s magic blasts hits the spellbook.

Even the hornets freeze.

Asha holds her breath.

…

…

…

BOOM!

Asha is thrown back. She cries out as her back crashes into the shelf.

She lands on shattered glass, the shards digging into her skin. Red fills her vision.

Red.

Fire.

Smoke.

Asha can’t breathe.

She can’t move.

She gasps for air. She’s running.

Run. Run where?

Up. Up is the way the Stars go.

No Stars.

Her vision blurs.

She’s running somewhere. She sees Stars.

No, those are statues.

Star?

Painting. Get it together.

The walls are crushing in. The walls are falling. Falling onto her.

She collapses somewhere. There’s something soft. It will suffocate her. Asha crashes against the floor, clutching her throat.

Her hands are burning now. She couldn’t care less.

She can’t breathe. There’s a ringing in her ears.

Suddenly, something suffocates her.

Heavy, heavy weight. Asha chokes.

The something is pulled off her, onto her legs.

There's a new weight over her legs. An anchor.

Her hand moves on its own. Soft, something soft. But not bad soft.

Asha gasps in, and she can breathe. She drinks up the air greedily, trying to get as much oxygen as possible.

There's a soft bleat.

Fluffy. Asha is petting something fluffy.

Slowly, she regains awareness of her surroundings. She’s in her room. She’s against her bed.

She’s safe.

“Behhhhhh,” Valentino bleats.

Asha gasps in another breath. She inhales deeply, then lets it out.

Valentino had pulled down her blanket and laid his head on her legs. He was her anchor, her air.

Asha takes in another shaky breath.

"Thank you, baby," she whispers.

Valentino nuzzles his head against her leg.

They stay like that for a while.

Author’s notes

Idk how I feel about this one??? Feels a bit fast but oh well. This is the inciting incident, like how movie!Asha’s was her interview with Magnifico.

Ajskahdkajskjas this is not really paced out like @annymation’s KOW fic (go check it out! It’s finished, it’s beautiful, it’s a homage to Disney’s 100th!) but oh well. I’m being stabbed in the stomach by cramps so I’ll edit it later.

The first three or four chapters will come out quick because I’ve already written the majority of them (to plot the temporality paused comic), so after that expect a bit of a delay.

As you can probably tell, I took a lot of inspiration from Puss’s panic attack from The Last Wish. As someone with frequent panic attacks, I really really appreciate how they showed the muffled surroundings, the “can’t catch your breath” feeling, and the helplessness. Valentino in the movie could’ve been nonexistent and it pretty much would’ve played out the same. TFS!Val, however… he’s a therapy animal for Asha. That weight, grounding you but still allowing you to finish your panicked thoughts… for me personally I don’t like “focusing on the moment” because the moment is usually terrible. My dog resting on my legs gives me something to come back to, like an anchor.

Love you Teddy Bear <3

I want to point out something. Yes, you do forget your wish once you give it to Magnus for safekeeping. But Magnus remembers them. He keeps them safe. Plus, he’s “powerful enough that no Star can influence him”

Yeah. If anyone has any comments about how I write Asha’s panic attack, please please let me know! Her PTSD is something that’s integral to the story’s plot, so I would really appreciate some feedback. I drew from my own experiences, but of course this does not apply to everyone and if there’s a way you feel I can improve, I promise I will not be offended.

Thanks for reading! <3

#the fallen star au #disney wish #wish 2023 #asha x star #star x asha #human star #starsha #princess asha #asha #the fallen star fic #Spotify

[emeraldtart]

TWST X No Straight Roads (ft. 1010!Yuu)

After the whole Rock Revolution fiasco, Neon J decided it's time to introduce a new member to 1010. Also because his twins (Eloni and Haym) wanted a baby sibling.

So he made Kaw*. The crew's newest member, rapper, and the mysterious one. Since they're recently made, they're as sentient as MK-I androids, but it doesn't stop their fellow troops and captain from trying to indulge them.

Unfortunately, an incident involving Kliff messing with Neon J and DJSS's newest equipment caused them to be pulled to Twisted Wonderland to everyone's horror.

Facts about 1010!Yuu

Their name is a pun on two things 'kau' which is one of the ways to say 'you', which is in a more casual way as opposed to 'awak'. And also 'kaw' which means strong tasting beverages.

They're not sentient (yet)

They are made as a foil to Rin, from their colors (white vs purple), roles (leader and loner) and 'age' (oldest and youngest).

Their weapon is a gun, and they have a sniper gun installed in their arms. Think of Lady Nagan from MHA.

They haven't met Bunk Bed Junction. Their siblings were planning to meet with them until the incident.

Throughout the prologue they're just standing there like ._. while the chaos is happening around them. Nothing in their programming make them equipped with this situation.

Flirt with the first years + dorm leaders because they mistake them as a crowd of fans.

Their base programming/personality can be summed up as: quiet.

Shroud brothers are equal part excited and confused. Excited because holy crap, an idol robot!? That's cool! Confused because who installs weapons inside a idol robot!?

They're waterproof, as they are a navy robot.

Idia realizes he's a hypocrite because he did the same thing to Ortho.

Kaw is mostly expressionless until they see a large enough crowd and they suddenly flirts with them.

They can sing and dance, and sometimes sings the last word of a sentence.

Neon J made Kaw more durable, as he had learnt from his encounter with B2J during the Rock Revolution. They won't explode from people screaming, and they also have a sort of mini-Qwasa in their body that they can charge by listening to Funky House and Dance-pop/Europop music, which they can do simply be performing a song in that genre.

They're also charged by cheers like their brothers.

Since they came from a world that revolves around music, their body occasionally moves to an invisible tempo, even when they are standing still.

Started to show signs of sentience during Heartslabyul when Riddle insulted Neon J. They began to insult him back in a way only robots can, and everyone who heard their words were scared of what they said.

In Savanaclaw they started to 'have fun' playing a magicless form of Magishift with the first years and Savanaclaw.

Octavinelle was when they became fully sentient. They suddenly cried when the Savanaclaw students tried to pick a fight with them, as the stress finally catch up with them.

Everyone freaks out because 1) They can cry!? and 2) Oh shit, they're crying.

It also happens that at that moment Neon J managed to connect with Kaw's hologram projector + communicator, sees his metal child crying with an awkward Savanaclaw gang and Grim trying to console them, and began to threat the ever-loving daylights out of the students.

After all is said and done, Kaw explains everything and Neon J starts making plans on how to take out Azul.

Kaw: Dad. You can't do that, that's illegal.

Neon J: I know. But just so you know, your older brothers are not going to- wait. Did you just call me dad!?

Kaw: Wha- I- I mean SIR! *salutes*

Neon J: Oh my gosh... TROOPS! YOUR FELLOW SOLDIER HAS GAINED SENTIENCE! COME TAKE A LOOK!

Kaw: DAD, NO!!!

Savanaclaw looking at Neon J and thought: Oh Sevens, they weren't kidding when they said their captain(dad?) has a sonar for a head.

Jack may or may have not taken a picture of Neon J's hologram and send it to ADeuce (the picture got photobombed by the rest of 1010)

Let just say that Crowley's on NJ + 1010's hit list when they found out what he made their youngest member do.

The list of people increased when Neon J brought it up to NSR meetings.

B2J found out through 1010 who were hanging out with them.

Crowley is on sight in Vinyl City, beaten only by Kliff.

When VDC rolls in, they join in the training as emotional support.

Kaw managed to find a loophole in Vil's Unique Magic so they sneak in some sweets for the VDC team.

Trein noticed Kaw's disappointment at not being allowed to join in on VDC, being a 10-feet 10-inches tall robot and all. He pulled some strings with Crewel and allow Kaw to join in on the closing ceremony with their brothers.

Let just say that Kaw aced both history and potionology as a thank you gift.

As for Malleus, he was interested in this tall robot. A being made of metal, that sings and dance and powered by music? Very interesting indeed.

Their talk at first is very brief because of Kaw's lack of sentience, but then they started to become more human and eventually Malleus pointed out how they have become much more than what they were born for; a living being.

Kaw calls him Abang (Big brother/older brother).

Rin felt that his status as the eldest brother is being challenged.

#au #twisted wonderland #twst #yuu #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #rook hunt #kalim al asim #jamil viper #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #dire crowley #divus crewel #mozus trein #neon j #1010 #rin #zimelu #purl-hew #eloni #Haym #No straight roads #nsr

[twinsunstars]

Thoughts on The Bad Batch Episode 12 - Juggernaut - A Discussion Post

This episode had a lot of action, feelings, and a very unexpected return. Let's return to this week's episode filled with exciting moments and moments filled with worry!

(SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVE NOT SEE THE EPISODE YET! all screencaps from www.cap-that.com! https://www.cap-that.com/starwars/the-bad-batch/312/)

CX-2 returns to Mount Tantiss with Omega, Hemlock coming by to pick her up. He tells Omega to follow him, and CX-2 lets her go of her handcuffs, returning to his ship.

I'm being so serious, we have three episodes left. If CX-2 doesn't get unmasked by the next episode I'm going to lose it. If it ends up happening near finale or even in the finale, it's gotta be a character that's so important to the plot (*cough* Tech) that we had to wait so long for this. But I also feel like if this is Tech, shouldn't it have happened by now at least? I'm so confused.

I saw someone post about this and I didn't notice it at first, but if you zoom in on this shot above, you can see that Hemlock's glove is missing, showing both of his hands clearly. I rewatched the episode and noticed the error, but the second they go back into Tantiss he has it back on.

Hemlock immediately takes Omega to Emerie, wanting her to keep testing Omega to make sure she has the whole M-count thing. Emerie seems reluctant for a bit, but keeps doing her job. Omega tells her that she doesn't have to do this, but Emerie says she has to. But she is happy her sister is safe at least. Omega questions if she is truly safe, and she really isn't. Emerie likely knows this too, but she's still trying to open her eyes more to all the wrongs around her.

Hunter (with Batcher) gets back to Crosshair and a now awake Wrecker, feeling better after getting knocked out in the explosion from last week. Wrecker is upset Crosshair let Omega go, but Crosshair understood her choice and the fact that she let the Empire stop hurting the locals of Pabu.

I got so sad when Crosshair's hand started shaking again, he's so terrified of Mount Tantiss and what he went through. He tells his brothers that there is a way of trying to find Tantiss, and that is through the former Vice Admiral Rampart.

Phee shows up with AZI, having gotten here secretly away from the Empire's eyes. She finally meets Crosshair, and tells him that Tech has told her about him. My heart-

I would have loved to see all of the off-screen interactions Tech and Phee had, he really liked to talk with her, and she loved listening. Lula and Tech's goggles being visible behind Phee and AZI made me even more sad.

Phee goes with the boys to the Imperial labor camp on Erebus, making her ship fall to sneak into the planet undetected. Girl was over here driving in heels; she's such an icon. Wrecker and Crosshair were struggling in the back, and Hunter was worried. His helmet just flying freely when the ship is falling was so funny. Tech would adore Phee's flying since she drives like him. Phee manages to get them in and drops them off to access the prison and find Rampart.

The boys manage to obtain control of a tank transporting prisoners, which Rampart is in. I was not expecting to see him again after what happened in Season 2, as I kinda just left the character behind ever since he got arrested and Hemlock replaced him as the new reappearing villain a few episodes later last season. Someone joked that they Agent Kallus'd him because they added more hair to Rampart, which is just funny. Rampart manages to recognize Crosshair under his armor, and Crosshair was so sassy with him too, I loved it.

The Imperials on the prison base notice something wrong with the tank the Batch stole and go after it, leading to an action-packed chase. (And Hunter drives insanely.) Phee manages to rescue them just in time, shooting down one of the Imperial ships chasing them. Rampart had gotten stunned after trying to shoot the boys, and it was hilarious how they were just throwing him around like a potato sack.

The Batch ask Rampart where Tantiss is, but not even he knows. He says it was designed like that so it wouldn't be found. I was spending some of my free time on Wookiepedia and I wish we could send the Batch the information that Mount Tantiss is on the planet Wayland. It's not coordinates, but it's something.

Meanwhile, Emerie continues to test Omega's blood, and it comes out positive again. She looks at Omega, seeming deeply worried. She doesn't say anything, but Emerie has something on her mind. Hemlock comes back and Emerie tells him about the results, and he wants Omega to come with him. Omega goes to the same place he took Nala Se and Emerie previously, taking her down to The Vault. Omega asks questions about the M-count situation, to which Hemlock gives her vague answers and direct answers about what the Empire has been doing with M-count subjects.

Omega sees the kids in The Vault, frowning. Eva sees Omega and lifts her head from her game, and I just know that she and Omega will be besties. Omega asks who the kids are, and Hemlock replies that they are the pieces of the puzzle that they are trying to solve.

He says, "...this is your new home", and the doors immediately shut behind Omega. The chills I got; and Omega looked scared. The episode ends there, and Omega is locked up again with no direct escape yet.

There wasn't much that I wanted to discuss from this episode, but there are only 3 episodes left, so we are now truly in a big anxious countdown. How will Omega escape this time? Will the Batch manage to obtain coordinates to locate Tantiss? Where's Echo when you need him? Will Emerie wake up soon? Will CX-2 unmask himself soon? There's still so much to unpack, and so little time.

#star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #tbb #sw tbb #tbb s3 #tbb spoilers #tbb season 3 #the bad batch omega #cx 2 #the bad batch tech #royce hemlock #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch wrecker #admiral rampart #phee genoa

[sunswathe]

i've been going through my wips to see if there's anything i can set loose, either for someone else to get inspiration from or to inspire me to keep going and there are... not many with enough i'd like to post

but i have a few! so have the first thousand or so words i wrote for an "eddie is max's stepbrother instead of billy" eventual steddie au!

Eddie hasn’t been in Hawkins, Indiana since spring of 1972, when he was seven years old and his dad was shaking him awake at the asscrack of dawn with a packed bag and crazed eyes.

The podunk little place hasn’t changed since then. Main is still full of shoddy little mom-and-pop shops that look one second away from crumbling to dust, and Eddie knows that there’s little to do other than fuck around in the woods and go to shitty little high school parties.

Eddie leans against the driver’s side window, right hand on the wheel and left bent at the elbow, holding his forehead with his fingers. He spares a glance over to Max, hunched over and glaring out the window, before focusing back on the road.

“Excited for our first day at a brand new school?” Eddie intones. She’s not. He knows she’s not. She knows he knows she’s not.

Max turns her glare onto him in the corner of his eye before going right back to ignoring him, and Eddie pops a wry little smirk. The chuckle bubbles out of his throat is flat, much like his voice when he breathes, “Yeah, me too. So excited,” before shutting the fuck up.

Max is never talkative on their first days at new schools. Max is never really talkative, ever, but Eddie at least knows the buttons to push to really get her going off on occasion. None of those buttons will work today, though, as he is well aware of from years of trying, so he doesn’t bother prodding them. Instead, he straightens so both hands are on the wheel and drums his fingers along with his The Last in Line tape, blasting from the speakers.

 The drive to the school isn’t a long one— because they actually have a tiny little house in a neighborhood, this time, unbelievable, really —so they’ve only listened to One Night In the City by the time they pull into the lot. The beginning of Evil Eyes is blaring loud enough that plenty of heads turn when Eddie’s van rumbles to a stop in a parking spot, and Eddie’s ears ring in the abrupt quiet after he turns the ignition off, silencing Ronnie James Dio’s crooning.

Max is opening her door and throwing her board down before Eddie can say anything, which is smart because Eddie can say a lot. But it’s futile for the same reason. Eddie pops out of the van as she steps onto her board and starts skating towards Hawkins Middle without a backwards glance.

“Hey! No first day hug for your brother? No ‘good luck?’ Not even a ‘thanks for the ride, goodbye?’” Eddie’s voice rises the farther away she skates, drawing even more curious eyes. 

Max doesn’t even spare him a look when she raises her tiny hand in a middle finger over her shoulder.

Eddie cackles and cups his hands around his mouth and bellows, “have a good day, Max!” with a patronizing lilt. That earns him a glare, which only makes him laugh harder as he wiggles his fingers in a tiny wave, before he whips around and begins flouncing towards the highschool.

In his periphery, Eddie notices a shiny maroon BMW parked across from his own shitty van, doors open, with both passengers standing and openly staring at him. They don’t even pretend they weren’t staring, and Eddie can respect that. He offers them a cheeky bow, and is pleasantly surprised when he’s given a genuine-if-mildly-perplexed smile from the pretty, stern-faced girl in a sweater and a friendly salute from the handsome guy with a head of poofy, well-styled hair.

Eddie tentatively slides the pair into the “potential allies” box he’s got in his head— despite their preppy outfits, looks can be deceiving he supposes —and adds even more exuberance to his stride.

Tuesday is a stupid day of the week to start out at a new school, but Eddie’s always liked it better than Monday at least. He loves to be a spectacle, and between his dad’s loud van, Eddie’s loud music, Eddie’s loud everything else, and rolling up to school on the second day of the week? A spectacle he is. He grins and waves at the clusters of students, all teeth and dangerous bravado. He looks at each person as much as they look at him, scans over them to see if he can’t find— there. Eddie tosses some devil horns at a group wearing a particular kind of clean, pressed clothes, and receives a few scandalized scowls for it. The burning glower from a freckled guy in a collared shirt sticks though, and Eddie meets it with a wide-eyed grin. Aha, he thinks as the look darkens even more, found you.

Eddie’s played this game more times than he cares to count.

In every school, in every stupid fucking town his dad’s bullshit has dragged them to, there’s a moronic little heirarchy led by some vapid little hotshot. And if Eddie can pick the bastard out of a crowd, he can bluff his way into being left the fuck alone by looking mean and scary enough that said vapid little hotshot won’t dare get his shit rocked by a tattooed, metalhead, freak, which means everyone else will also leave him the fuck alone.

Of course, Eddie’s a coward and a runner, so doing this means if his bluff is called, he will absolutely get his ass kicked.

Had his dad dragged them back to Hawkins the year prior instead of now, Eddie might’ve had the advantage of vaguely knowing a few of the students, but Eddie’s elementary school classmates probably-definitely graduated earlier this year. Class of ‘84, baby!

Except—

Except Eddie stopped being a member of the class of ‘84 when his dad really fucked himself and their family over by making enemies in terrible places and foregoing debts he really shouldn’t have. Instead of graduating in the spring and getting the fuck away from Al Munson and the perils of highschool, Eddie’s just one day shy of nineteen (Halloween birthday, the one good thing Al ever managed to give Eddie, and truly, that was all his Ma’s doing) and without a highschool diploma.

Eddie’s been a legal adult for a year minus some change, but he’s still locked into his dysfunctional little family out of some twisted sense of necessity and… guilt? Obligation? For his dad, or for Susan and Max? He doesn’t have a fucking clue.

Necessity because Eddie wants to fucking graduate. Al likes to point out that he didn’t graduate and he’s doing just fine— which Eddie disagrees with wholeheartedly on account of him only “doing fine” because of gambling, stealing, and dealing, so. Eddie wants to graduate to make sure he doesn’t end up like his Dear Old Dad, which is easier to manage if you don’t have to pay rent or keep a job.

So here they are, back in Hawkins because it’s the one place Al has any kind of friends, even if said friends are just the one guy, Al’s brother that Eddie’d never fucking heard of until two months ago when Al decided to scurry home to bumfuck Indiana with his tail tucked between his legs and pray that their problems don’t follow.

All of that to say, Eddie’s stuck playing stupid mind games with his classmates to make sure he can ram his head into the sand and cruise through his sort-of-second senior year and hope that Al doesn’t ruin it for them this time.

Finding the head honcho is the first part of the game, and Eddie’s confident Freckles is him.

Eddie goes through the motions of getting his schedule and a locker from the office staff, brushing off their capital-L Looks when he interrupts them or doesn’t listen and taps his rings on whatever surface he can find. Classes start at some point while he’s getting sorted, he vaguely hears the first and second bell while they print a schedule and a school map.

They tell him he can go find his locker and scope out the location of his classes before the next bell, which isn’t for about forty minutes, before (foolishly) setting him loose.

He glances at his locker number, then glances at the lockers around him and sighs when none of them are even close.

Great. He spares a thought to hope Max gets more help than they’re giving him today, before he squares his shoulders and sets off in a random direction.

Eddie gets the feeling it’s going to be a long year.

#eddie is billy au #(eventual) steddie au #eddie munson #maxine mayfield #steddie #stranger things au #baubles writes things #i've been sitting on this one for so long i've pretty much forgotten where i was going with it which is kind of sad #but maybe! someone else will have more thoughts and directions for it!

[dramatic-dolphin]

hey if there's any telepaths nearby i'm sorry about the mental load, i haven't been able to shut my internal monologue up for several days now. yes it's annoying to me too <3

#this is a cry for help #fucking dorothy is awake and that means my brain is loud as hell and i can't rest #<- dorothy is a specific pattern of mostly-intrusive thoughts that i named back in high school #because it amused me to think of it as a loud little girl stomping her feet and wailing at not being listened to #and it was the first loud little girl name i could think of #i totally recommend thinking of your intrusive thoughts as an annoying 12yr old edgelord talking in your brain btw it works wonders #now it's almost funny when she starts making them pop up in my head #like yea dorothy i get it you're cranky and understimulated go get a lollipop or something stop making it my problem #see i can't stop talking in the tags my internal monologue is a mess. help. it's 2am.

[dirt-str1der]

Ocs can be so special and not reflective of yourself in any way

#Listen to my problems #just remembered that yancy has night terrors well into adulthood and he lives alone in a big house because his parents didnt want to move to #central city with him. and he doesnt sleep until he has to he stays awake in his kitchen drinking beer and crying sometimes just because #and when veronica moved in she would sleep on the sofa and take care of him at night ... (veronica has nightmares sometimes too...) #she had a major freakout about her missing eye and shes still steeped in paranoia that theyre gonna find her (unspecified they) #she doesnt like touching people much but she hugs him and only him and lets him give her silly nicknames .. x #and sol .. then sol came home with yancy ... and sol came into yancys room (yancy likes him a lot ...) and they would hold each other at #night simply because theyre both warm bodies #yancy doesnt know that hes just a machine .. sol was so much more to him. before he was gears and wires he was yancys friend ... #yancy is Callous about the wires. he forgets sometimes he loves machines but more than that he loves sol ... you see .... he is a cool #machine but theyre best friends they like each other .. #hes yancys bodyguard he takes care of him throughout the day and throughout the night #person by person yancys big house starts to fill up .. #just realised something funny. sol and grace are from the same hitman agency. sol choked yancy out and tried to break his neck before he #hired him and grace was invited to come over by sol and as soon as she stepped into the house she was chased around with a knife by veronica #like both of them tried to kill their special one thats really funny #i say special one because sol is yancys special one but grace and vero are literally just girlfriends who have sex

[jailwithonlyboys]

immediately i f****g LOOOOVE the song omg. as a charli / sophie girlie i was like oh we're doing hyper pop??!! i still would have probably liked it if the whole song was the style of the first lines but i love that you can really hear their voices later and it gets melodic even while being wild.

obviously we've hardly been starved for content but it hit me this is their first truly new, not a remake, not an xmas song (to be clear a great song but it's different), not a feature since 2019 - i'm simply going to lose it when we get a full album and tour 😭

#tegan and sara #i mean i'm a stan have i ever not liked a song of theirs #but some i don't immediately love compared to others like #listening to an album which tracks hit you first and which are sleepers #for me this is an immediate hit #i'm curious how other ppl feel bc i remember the heartthrob days of #their most mainstream success but #a lot of core fans being upset bc pop #but while i live and die by my standom i also just love a lot of music so #my favorite thing about them is they've got such a style evolution and always change it up #anyways as a certified grandma yes i did start listening when i woke up naturally at 5am rather than #being awake at midnight lol #too bad i gotta work during the video release sigh #megamazing

[sw1mmingfoolz]

growth is feeling like u wanna unalive urself and full on ugly sobbing for like 15 mins before being like right anyway what options do i have rn

#sorry for personal posting on main but ah #i am losing my mind these days lol #i have no sleep schedule i just nap all the time n it kinda works but also i hate waking up at 2/3pm #but i just cannot stop #i don't actually have an official narcolepsy diagnosis yet in spite of my drs agreeing that's what it is #i did an mslt in February and was told I'd get my results in early march at the latest #it's may and I've heard nothing #called the number i was given and was transferred like 4 times before being told to just call my gp #who said they hadn't gotten any results so there was nothing they could tell me #i had to fight so hard to get an mslt in the first place because they just keep diagnosing me with depression #and yknow if i have depression it's BECAUSE of the sleep disorder lol like i cannot stay awake i fall asleep constantly #I can't sit down to write or watch a film or anything atm #i keep saying new bite me or gonna write another 500 drabble and then i'm out cold on and off til 3am #i'm exhausted all the time it rules my life i make plans around it and cancel any that are before noon #and if ik i have something important i have to be up early for i literally do not go to sleep bc ik I won't wake up #it's ruining my entire life lmao but i just get told i have depression or. have my mslt results lost?? ig?? #was on the phone for over a half hour and just entirely broke down crying afterwards like i could not stop #eventually i just told myself to get a grip and started researching private clinics cuz i can save enough for private treatment if i try #and they listen more when you're paying them aha it's just narcolepsy is so rare most places don't even know of it #it's likely I'll have to travel to london and shell out a fortune to even try getting any answers but living like this is #just so unsustainable like i wanna do a degree and get a 'real job' #anyway sorry for the big tag ramble and personal posting i have had a rough morning but. I'll figure it out #i always do somehow #a/n #personal #probably delete later #i really said personal posting on main girl this is a sideblog what are u talking about

[its-captain-sir]

half asleep me is so dangerous cause I'm still trying to think through and solve all my problems but there is actually no rational thought going on in my brain at that point so every "idea" I have makes absolutely no sense when I'm more awake. for a minute I was fully convinced spoons were the answer to getting my school schedule fixed

#me: my eyes are burning so i will just close them for a bit while i listen to music #my brain: starts playing like 5d chess but the rules are written backwards and also the entire rulebook is on fire #ANYWAYS I'm awake now. and when i do go to sleep i will be skipping that half asleep state hakdhskdb #megan.txt

[beaversatemygrandma]

SO. You guys know how a lot of the music played during the era of Woodstock was very pro-civil rights? Just common knowledge at this point i think. I ended up getting Really Into classic rock recently (You sit down and listen to the entirety of The Wall once and this happens... highly recommend btw.) and there’s one song that has been really getting to me.

I’d Love to Change the World by Ten Years After from ‘71 I heard a recent remixed version of the song a while back, by Jetta I think, and I was never able to understand the lyrics bc, ya know, remixed. And hearing the original. Wow. Okay. This song hits So Close To Home. Short, sweet, to the point: Tax the Rich, Feed the Poor; Until There are No Rich No More. (Yes, further in, it is an Anti-War song, but that’s even applicable.)

And well, this got some thoughts going for me. Positive ones potentially for the future. So, back then was the Huge Civil Rights movements, AIDS epidemic, Stonewall, etc. (The Summer of ‘69 was a big one, Idk about the song, but the literal time? Yep.) And during that time, So Many People fighting were killed and silenced, but gained a public support (kind of, they at least don’t want us dying anymore). And well, a generation passes, we’re back to where we were in the ‘60s and ‘70s. The young are yet again asking, “Hey, can we live?” While the rich are consistently fucking anybody who doesn’t have a million in their pocket over.

This thought came up: In the future, it’ll be good. The slow efforts that have picked up over two generations of people are building. We’re a step further than we were before. Sure, it seems hopeless right now with how harshly they’re attacking civil rights. But keep in mind: The Kids Are Okay. Once those kids are all grown up, with how hard they’re fighting, one day these kids are going to be in control. They will be the generation of change. I’m sure by the time we’re all old and tired of fighting, we’ll finally have some good come around and finally live comfortably. These kids are pushing hard against those towering over. And hell, I shouldn’t be saying ‘kids’. They’re nearly adults and some even at my age (early 20s). They’re already working their way up. They’ve recognized the hostility. Now in the days where there are protections in place, movements will happen. One day, perhaps within the next twenty years, things will be okay. Life and happiness will be attainable no matter how far away it seems right now. If you keep up and keep fighting alongside them, you too will be able to see this.

And honestly, this thought is keeping me going now. The world may be hostile right now, but as generations have seen, we will keep moving up as history repeats itself. It may be bad currently, but we will survive.

One day, within our lifetimes, it will be okay. Don’t quit now.

#taks speaks #it's just some thoughts i had at like 2am last night #bc i was listening to that song half awake and oddly feeling positive #hopefully i can share a little bit of this calm feeling #just seeing kids these days arguing against things taught to them is amazing #the world is on fire and we just want to live #and those kids SEE THAT #as somebody who has watched the world slowly fall apart to global warming and war and capitialism in just the early 2000s to now #it feels like there's some positivity just over the horizon #hell i remember back in like 2007 when some kid echoed his dad's racist sentiment in school #and a whole group of us came together and started chanting 'Obama is da bomb' through the ENTIRE LUNCHROOM #in this tiny conservative town in appalachia #All of us in unison looked to this kid and was like 'fuck you. he's a cool guy' even tho we were like 8 and had no idea what was going on #and if we were doing that in 3rd grade back then. the kids now are definitely still going strong #and looking back at some of these kids i knew back then: they're still going strong too now that we understand #i hope this makes sense tho #i just felt really good hearing that this stuff was said back in the 70s #and we're right back at it again #and i think this time. we'll win.

[simpjaes]

EROTIC EMPATHY (s.jy)

Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Nope. Are you about to? Yep. or the one where jake has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out. 

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it

WORDCOUNT― 12.7k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader 

CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that, facetime-sex, real life sex

SIDE CHARACTERS― jay as reader’s best friend and roommate, heeseung briefly as jake’s friend.

NOTE― if you've read this before it's because im the person who wrote it [ncteez] and im revamping it for jake, pls don't send me messages on either account about stealing a work that's already mine!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags―big huge dick jake, phone sex (ish), face time sex,  masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again,  no condom aka cream pie, jake gets feelings like immediately when u touch him

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Jay with a chuckle. “yes or no?”

Jay snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.

“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend. 

You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything. 

“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m gonna say yes.”

Jay groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you. 

“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”

You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-two-year-old Jake and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Jay laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the same way you do.

Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.

Fucking quiet.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before 

Jake: ….i’m 21, it says that in my bio

You: I think you’re lying. 

Jake: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol

You: why would i help you lie to other women

Jake: i’m not lying!!1

You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity. 

You: ok, twenty-one-year-old “jaeyun” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?

Jake: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after

Jake: maybe it's the playlists idk

You: send me the playlist

Jake: [spotify link to a playlist titled “NUT”] 

You try not to snort, but you do. Given, he does have decent taste, but why anyone would have dynamite by bts and never say never by justin bieber on their sex playlist is beyond you. 

You: surely it’s not your playlist…….

You: anyway

You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, like, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?

Jake: yea

You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’ve never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything

Jake: u don’t think im ugly? :) 

Jake: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before

You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?

Jake: can we stop talking about why im a virgin

You: sure but you know im gonna bring it up again, right?

You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity. 

You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.

Jake, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty. 

Jake: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number] 

You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile. 

You: [screen shot// contact name: grandpa jake] 

Grandpa Jake: :| 

Grandpa Jake: im 21

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, here’s the thing. Jake is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him. 

You: it’s been like four days since we started talking

Grandpa Jake: yep, almost five

You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?

Grandpa Jake: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol

You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something

Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.

Grandpa Jake: i do NOT have a micropenis

You: prove it

Grandpa Jake: right now???

You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly. 

You: answer my question first

It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not. 

Grandpa Jake: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here 

Grandpa Jake: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!

He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least. 

You: they won’t let you have anyone over? 

Grandpa Jake: well, that too but 

Grandpa Jake: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did

You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?

Grandpa Jake: her boyfriend walked in

You: WHAT

You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind. 

Grandpa Jake: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend

You: phew 

Grandpa Jake: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not? 

The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes. 

You: yeah, sure. 

You: about the micropenis though, 

Grandpa Jake: right…um

A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first dick pic from Jake. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.

You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok 

Grandpa Jake:  just give me a sec damn

He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic? 

Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.

He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down. 

Grandpa Jake: [image attachment] 

In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Jake though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.

You: oh, you were jerking off, got it. 

Grandpa Jake: sorry can’t help it 

Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books. 

You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis

You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good and watches porn like 24/7. You can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.

Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now that’s causing him to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers. 

“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Heeseung or some shit.

“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?” 

The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it’s you on the other line sends his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as you do via text. 

God, this alone is enough for him right now. 

“Were you at least thinking of me?”

He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides. 

“Were you looking at my pictures?”

He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him to talk right now, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.

“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more. 

“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”

“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”

“Letting me come over and actually do it?” That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow and bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement.

“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it. 

“I can facetime you.” 

He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately. 

“No! no, we can facetime–”

Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.

You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.

Oh fuck.

There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Looking at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.

“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”

He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.

“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”

You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at. 

“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Jake?”

“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his name come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. “This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits now, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly as he watches between your spread legs. 

In a way, he wonders if you can see how desperate he is. There’s no way you can’t, right? Like, you can see how badly he wants you, right?

“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”

He groans again with deep breaths, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it. 

“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”

You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you. 

“Better?”

Jake watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day. 

“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.

“Can I do what?  Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”

Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off. 

“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, uncaring of how dirty it sounds falling out of his throat with a moan. 

His eyes are boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy. Just like him.

His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him. 

“Is this what you want?” You start, making damn sure he can see every part of your glistening cunt. “You want to fuck this?” You chuckle now, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.

“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”

You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself. 

“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point. 

“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it, mouth falling open at the mere thought of it. 

“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”

Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes him look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.

You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered. 

His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful. 

“S-shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”

“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”

After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.

“Are you, um, done?” Jake says, disappointed.

“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”

His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off. 

“You still wanna see me after this?”

You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.

“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up. 

“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand. 

“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”

You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Grandpa Jake: what about 3pm on thurs?

You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???

Grandpa Jake: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours

You: or you could just come here? 

Grandpa Jake: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol

You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird

Jake contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway. 

You: what about tomorrow, 8pm? 

Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. God, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car. 

Grandpa Jake: send ur address, ill be there :) 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Heeseung croaks through the speaker at Jake, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke. 

“Why do you have to say it that way?” Jake groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”

“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Heeseung laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”

Jake laughs, or snorts really. 

“Oh, she’s real.”

Heeseung sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest. 

“Hm? Have you already met her?”

“Kind of. We like, um,” Jake pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”

Silence.

“She got naked.”

“Oh ho ho!” Heeseung encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?” 

“That’s what I said–wait,” Jake smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Heeseung just said. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Heeseung laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”

Then he hangs up. 

Grandpa Jake: do u think im a loser?

You: yeah kinda

You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Jay.

“That him texting?” Jay quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him. 

You laugh again at Jake’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Jay that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night. 

“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Jay. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”

“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”

“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Jake sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”

“I did not need to know that.” Jay sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet. 

“You act like you don’t ask every time I fuck someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Weirdo.”

Jay stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone. 

“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend. 

“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”

He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms. 

“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”

“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.” 

He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch. 

“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on any cum when I get home.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Jake is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by. 

So many “are you sures,” so many “you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos,” and even more “i can’t wait to see yous.”

“Jay, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. 

You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Jake is doing the same, and smile.

“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”

You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.

“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”

Jay laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today. 

“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you. 

“Thanks, that’s the plan.”

And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around seven thirty. 

Grandpa Jake: i’m a little early, is that ok? 

“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Jay. 

He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet. 

“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”

You give him a knowing look before nodding. 

You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.

Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Jay is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be. 

Not only did Jake think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment. 

“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–” 

“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Jay smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”

Jake does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Jay and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside. 

“She got all cleaned up for you.” Jay whispers, throwing Jake a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Jake still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, that’s my roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen. 

“Have you and him ever like…” Jake immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird. 

“Jay?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”

Immediately Jake moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.

When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him. 

Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, yes, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. 

He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Jake is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex. 

Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh in the short period of time you’ve known him along with how many times he’s willingly embarrassed himself

And now for the first time, he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants.

“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”

Jake tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more. 

“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the fact that this is happening. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks. 

You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Jake and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”

Jake laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.

He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. 

Now he’s here, and you’re right there. 

It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.

You turn after grabbing him the bottle and are shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back. 

He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him. 

For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly. 

His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now. 

If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Jay’s sake. 

“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”

“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”

Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.

You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against the wall, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone. 

You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.

Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera. 

“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him. 

At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.

“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”

He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and gripping your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you. 

It looks like he’s been wanting to do this to someone all his life, with his needy body proving it time and time again. Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again. 

“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”

He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. You can feel his nervous yet eager breath against you, making your eyelashes flutter at even that slight sensation. 

“Go on then.” You sigh out, trying to prepare for what he can manage with that pretty mouth of his.

You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts. 

He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy spread out like this on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal, to the point he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here. 

He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place. 

It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in a reaction at what he’s doing to you.

Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go. 

“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” You compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Keep licking there, and use your fingers too.” 

He hums without stopping, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen. 

You can feel his fingers make their way into you shortly after, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own in response, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you. 

“Just like that,” You encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you. 

It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.

“So good,” You say shortly, trying to give him the praise he needs while scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper. 

He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.

All day. He could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.

He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach orgasm so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.

“Faster, with your fingers—“ You choke out in a drawn out and pornographic moan, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say. 

There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.

Insane, really, that he needed to taste the messy relief before resuming. 

Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone. 

You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt. 

He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his cock in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.

“Did you…?” He asks softly, dipping his head shyly with his wet chin shining in the light of your room.

You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs. 

“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and want nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, I'm gonna do the same for you.”

He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.

“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.

“N-No!  It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that– like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”

His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Jake.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”

The light in his eyes returns and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you. 

“Jake, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his name loud and clear. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.” 

Well, he can’t have that now, can he? 

He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?

Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure. 

You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth when you pull back slightly. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base. 

He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking him in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes. 

It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, even through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop. 

He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of his cock and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on him like that, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it. 

He’s in love.

He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls. 

“Wait, wait wait–” Jake groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look. 

“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.

“No!” He heaves out with fluttering lashes, trying to regain sanity. “I was just getting really close.”

“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth. 

You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again. 

His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again. 

“Ah–wait–fuck.” He tries to protest, not wanting to finish so quickly, but there it goes. There he goes.

Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His eyes roll back and his fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it– how?

“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”

You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face. 

“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice. “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”

He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?

But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him. 

“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before and letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”

He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view. 

You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well. 

“I– I don’t even know at this point.” He admits with a stammer, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.

“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”

He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against the muscles and soft skin there.

He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.

He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.

“Already?” 

He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs. 

“I want to, um…” He shifts his eyes away from you. “Can I eat you out again?”

That’s new. Twice in one session?

“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”

You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up. 

You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up in front of him. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this. 

You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again. 

His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time. 

“It’s really the prettiest.” He says in a clear and shaking voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”

You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now. 

“Yeah? You just gonna stare at it?” You try to urge him, and it works.

Because of course it works. 

You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more. 

He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him just to feel his tongue chase. He eventually holds you in place against him, big hands holding you firmly against his face with a bit of force. And now? He’s licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now. 

You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard again is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense. 

After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you cum this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle. 

He hums out a rumbled moan at the sound of your cunt squelching around his fingers. So wet. More wet than any of the girls in the porn he’s watched for years. You’re dripping around his fingers, and the smacking sound is so fucking arousing to him.

And yeah, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you. 

The sound of your pussy amplifies when it’s against his tongue, and honestly, he could cum right now if he really wanted to. Already he’s hard again, but god feeling you, hearing you, seeing you like this for him? For some guy who has never once been able to give a girl his all like this? 

He’s so focused on you.

Which for you, is a bit of an issue because he’s really not going to let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself. 

He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that. 

You pull your body away from him quickly to let your rising orgasm subside, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him. 

“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”

He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair. 

“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”

“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “If you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”

His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–

“Really?” He asks, knowing full well the answer.. 

“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct with deep breaths, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, yeah?”

He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this. 

Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His is cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.

“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no,” He breathes in a sharp breath and grips your hips. ”Do that again.” 

You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard. 

You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this. 

You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, his little rumbled grow-like moans only made this all the more arousing.

“Ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds. 

He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now. 

“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”

“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” 

He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit is fucking raw for the first time? 

“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”

He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him. 

“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you. 

You smile, humming at him when you lift from him, standing on your knees to grab his cock and position him in the right place. 

“You sure you want it too?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it. 

“Fuck, yes.” His fingers tighten against you, his eyes squeeze shut, and his voice comes out as frantic and quite frankly, a bit annoyed. “Just do it already.” 

You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation. 

He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob. 

By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him makes you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.

“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you. 

He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So fucking hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good. 

Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the new feeling. 

You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again. 

His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling. 

You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside. 

“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.

That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it. 

You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.

You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you. 

He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound. 

For a moment, you think you can actually hear him unintentionally growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it. 

You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.

“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”

He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from cumming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you. 

You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely. 

You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints. 

“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, do it with me–”

Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable. 

“Oh, god. I’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.

He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy pulse around him as he continues to empty himself into you. 

It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense. 

Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good. 

By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity. 

He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.

In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (He’s being dramatic.)

All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Heeseung does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake. 

But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other woman and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.

You made him cum twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.

There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.

And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.

The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird. 

This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least. 

“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a cum-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”

He looks at you, and then at his food.

“Yeah, I guess I should…” 

“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”

It’s silent for a minute.

“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”

Thank fuck Jake is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet either. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.

Maybe you will be ready to give up the single life if it’s with Jake. 

You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes. 

Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?

“Hey, I should probably call Jay and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”

Jake nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out. 

“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”

You snort at him with a laugh right as Jay answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Jake’s friend than Jay whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents. 

“Hey Jay, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up. 

Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Jake and his phone. 

“Put him on speaker.”

Jake does just that, laughing at Heeseung’s reaction when he hears you speak rather than his best friend over the line. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun smut #enha smut

[mariespen]

Never Alone ₊✩ˎˊ˗

rafe x reader angst/comfort ⊹˚.⋆ Summary: Rafe goes to sleep alone after reader doesn't listen to him, but something's missing. Warnings: arguing/yelling, reader being in the wrong, insults and some stronger language

⊹˚.⋆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵⊹˚.⋆

“I can’t believe this.. I can’t believe you.” Rafe said, pointing an accusatory finger and shaking his head in disappointment.

You stood there, any bit of attitude that you walked in with had left your body the moment you saw the look in his eyes.

“Rafe, I just lost track of time!” You protested, unintentionally sounding whiny.

“You don’t fucking listen!” His voice raised and you stood smaller as he continued his rant, “Everything I say is in and out with you.” His eyes narrowed at your face.

There was only one thing that pushed Rafe off the edge; not listening to what he tells you. Months ago he had told you not to hang out with the pogues. Since then, you’d been sneaking around with them to not piss off your short-tempered boyfriend. 

It’s proving to be true that you also should’ve listened to him when he told you to be ready for a gala by 6pm sharp tonight. The Cameron family was being honored at the country club for being generous contributors after a particularly large donation made by Rafe’s father.  Of course, you found yourself adventuring with the pogues, stained with dirt and very far from home at 6pm. 

According to him, Rafe had been covering for you all night, saying that you had the flu and wouldn’t be able to make it. Your arrival was heavily anticipated because your grandfather was a big name in the country club. In turn, Rafe needed you there to make conversation and for a good excuse to leave early. He was beyond livid when he stormed into the house at 9pm and realized that you still weren’t home. When you finally tried to sneak into the bedroom thirty minutes later, praying Rafe was still away and racking your brain for believable excuses, he was waiting with an angry red face.

It didn’t help your case at all when Rafe saw JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera driving away from his house.

“Rafe m’sorry-'' you tried to apologize again, but he cut you off.

“I don’t care!” He stared at you for a moment, taking in your expression before starting again, “Jesus, s’like you’re a child.” he mumbled, ready to end the night angry.

Until you rolled your eyes right as he turned around to face you again.

“Rolling your eyes at me, hm?” He said, the anger coming back into his tone, “y’know what? If you want to hang out with those assholes so bad, go on. S’where you belong.” He said, his tone biting into you as he turned again.

Tears welled in your eyes. You knew Rafe had brought you this kook lifestyle when you were struggling after your mother left the island. You thanked him for two weeks after you moved in with him, then the two of you didn’t speak about it. It’s been a year since then and this was the first time he had brought it up. You didn't think he'd hold it above you.

A sob escaped the confines of your throat when he slammed the door behind him. You let your body crumble, crying into your hands. He had barely let you get a word out and you hated him for it. You knew you were in the wrong, but his words kicked you in the gut.

You picked your own sobbing body up, quieting down and making your way to change from your dirty clothes. You could hear Rafe’s pacing steps and occasional annoyed sighs from downstairs. After wiping the dirt off of your body and getting changed, you laid in the huge bed the two of you shared, trying to distract yourself. You already knew that Rafe planned to sleep in a guest room downstairs and you told yourself it was fine. 

An hour passed and turned into two, the clock ticking as you eventually watched three hours pass. You were restless, just like how you always were without Rafe. You both couldn’t sleep without the other’s company. You were going to lay awake all night until a soft knock on the door sounded around the room and an exhausted Rafe tried to quietly walk in. You sat up, looking at his hooded eyes.

“Rafe, I’m so sorry..” You took in a breath as you prepared to spit all of your reasons out at once.

“No, m’sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He breathed out, sitting on the bed next to you.

“No, Rafe. I was irresponsible, baby please.. please forgive me.” You whispered your last words, tears forming again, “I’ll listen. I promise I’ll listen.”

“Shh baby..” He cooed, laying down and holding you to him, “we can talk in the morning. Js need you..” He muttered.

You meekly smiled into him, happy to know that his soft spot for you hadn’t worn thin.

“I love you.” You whispered into his chest, but the only response you got back were his small snores.

⊹˚.⋆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵⊹˚.⋆

#outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron drabble #mariespen #obx angst #rafe cameron hurt/comfort