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#why does red and blue not make purple . WHY DOES RED AND BLUE NOT MAKE PURPLE
shmolish · 1 day
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AN: My parents walked into my room midway of me making this and asked me what I was doing- 😰 Um... enjoy?
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Shadow Milk Cookie x GN! Reader
Oneshot
Warnings: Suggestive scenes, marking, possessiveness, mild swearing. MINORS, DNI.
-Jealousy, jealousy-
You had been talking to someone new at the theater. They were naturally charming, and you couldn't help but laugh at their jokes, and smile at how they spoke.
Little did you know, someone else had been watching the entire time.
He was obviously in love with you, but for some reason, you didn't notice.
Those hungry eyes should be obvious to anybody, though.
A certain blue jester, gazing and silently hating from afar.
He knew he could make you laugh so much harder, smile so much wider... Make you feel so much better.
Surely you hadn't forgotten about him.. right?
If you did... he would just have to remind you.
You were finished talking to that person soon enough, and Shadow Milk took this as the perfect opportunity to reunite with you!
"Hello doll. Been having fun without me?" He had that normal smile on his face, like he always did. To any normal person, it would look like nothing was amiss...
But something was very wrong.. The fact that you were talking and smiling with somebody else. And the way he looked at you with those eyes- Shadow Milk Cookie absolutely despised it.
"Oh yeah, sorry about that." You would just smile awkwardly.
"Say... who exactly was he?" Shadow Milk would ask while taking your hand. He just started walking somewhere with you.
"Oh, just a guy I met today. He's pretty funny," you explained.
Shadow Milk nodded his head before quickly shoving both of you into a janitor closet.
"Ack, what are you-" Shadow Milk Cookie put a finger infront of your lips, promptly sushing you. His old smile was replaced with a more sinister and stern look.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" He would take both of your hands and pin them above your head, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he moved closer to it.
"What is this for..?" You'd ask him, breath hitching as he sent butterfly kisses along the side of your neck.
"Doll, you're so oblivious that it hurts."
You could feel him begin to nip at the skin on your neck.
"You seriously didn't notice how he was looking at you?"
You would let out some quiet mewls before responding.
"I guess not-"
He bit down hard on your neck, to which you immediately whined at.
"Doll, you have to be quiet. I know you can take it~ And besides, you wouldn't want someone to hear us, right?" He would ask teasingly. You knew he had that shit-eating grin on his face.
You would shake your head and try your best to stay quiet.
"Struggling, are we? I don't see why. I've been much rougher with you before..."
He would continue sucking and biting at your neck, leaving you no time to rest.
"I guess it's entertaining though."
He moved his other free hand to slowly trail down your side, only stopping to be placed firmly around your waist. He pulled your bodies closer together, yet to him, it was never quiet close enough.
At this point, you were practically melted under his touch, and your legs were trembling.
He had told you time and time again to not be so loud... but it really couldn't be helped.
Purple and red bite marks were dotted all over you neck. There was no hiding all of them..
Shadow Milk would take his knee and nudge between your legs slightly.
"Dove, why don't we take this to the bedroom?
Fin ☆
Uh, if you guys want more, just request- 👀
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proto-language · 2 months
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Do you love the colour of the Mozart, l'Opéra Rock?
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dynamic-power · 2 months
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Steve is walking down the hallway towards his math class when it happens.
Someone bumps into him, a girl he only vaguely recognizes, and she reaches out and grabs his hand to steady herself.
His vision explodes with what he knows must be color. Bright shades assault his eyes, shades he doesn't even have names for. His classmates' clothes, the tiles beneath his feet, the homecoming sign above him. Even the lights have taken on a new hue, washing Steve's entire world in something completely alien.
The girl looks as shocked as steve feels. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth drooped open as she spins in a slow circle. She's pretty, he thinks. Short hair, soft features, an unusual sense of style. She's clutching an instrument case, and he thinks that's why he recognizes her.
"Uh," he says, catching her attention. "Hi."
Her mouth opens, closes, opens once more, and then she dashes away from him, disappearing into the throng of students.
He spends the rest of the day cataloging colors. By the time he's climbing into his car (which is a color he still can't name, but has decided he likes) he's found at least a dozen different shades, and he wonders how they all fit into the seven colors he's been told are in the rainbow.
He tells his mom when he gets home that day. She is ecstatic. When Steve admits he doesn't have anything to tell about the girl herself, his mom turns her attention on naming colors for him.
It becomes quickly apparent that something isn't quite right. He'd been so focused on everything that was new that he hadn't realized what was the same. He still sees a lot of grays. Blues, purples, greens,and violets are all still lost on him.
That doesn't make what he can see any less spectacular, though. Oranges, reds, pinks, yellows. The yellows are his favorite.
He'll meet his other soulmate, his mother assures him, as they sit in the backyard, admiring the rich golds and reds of the trees that he can now see, standing out against the gray of the sky he knows should be blue.
He does, about two years later. He's picking Henderson up from school one afternoon, but instead of Dustin climbing into the front seat like usual, the back door swings open violently and not one but two figures scramble into the back seat.
"Henderson, what the fuck?!?"
"Drive!" Henderson screeches, his head popping up between the seats. "Go, go, go!" A hand, not Dustin's, reaches out as the stranger tries to sit himself up and fingers graze his temple as he's peeling away from the curb.
"Motherfucking assmunch-" Dustin is saying, "thinking he can get away with that shit-"
But Steve isn't paying attention, because the trees are green and the sky is blue and the world is suddenly right.
Steve looks into the rearview mirror and meets the gaze of a shocked-looking Eddie Munson.
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risestarkiss · 2 months
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Orange, Baby!
Rise Ramblings #316
When I think about Mikey, this scene always comes to mind.
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As soon as they step foot in the library to save Mayhem, Angelo instantly disqualifies himself…hilariously.
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On first watch, I found it interesting that he made this decision with no hesitation, especially given the stakes.
At the time I just resigned to him being a silly silly boy, but now I know better.
Yet, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s explore who Mikey is.
Michelangelo Hamato is the youngest turtle in the family, and it shows.
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Consequently, he seems to possess a certain “youngest brother privilege" that his other brothers just can’t help but reinforce. This is the role that Mikey was born into. Therefore, he doesn’t have to push himself to be the smartest, or cleverest, or strongest turtle.
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Instead, he decides to be the artist of the family. He’s a creative! He expresses himself everywhere, from stickers on his own shell, to tagging the lair, as well as on paper. The world is his canvas!
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Michelangelo also expresses himself in virtually everything he does, so it’s easy to understand why he’s the most open, honest, caring, and emotionally expressive turtle of the bunch. To some it could be seen as a weakness, yet Mikey uses his emotional intelligence as a pillar of strength, of which he utilizes to uphold his brothers when they need support the most.
In the show, Michelangelo often takes on certain personas; Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch. (For some reason, they are all doctors, but that’s beside the point.)
At first glance, the personas could be seen as silly bouts of make-believe. But I think that placing these roles upon himself for his brothers' sake is Michelangelo’s way of helping them cope with the world by offering them what they each individually lack.
For instance, Raph, Leo, and Donnie have trouble voicing their discomforts when someone does something they don’t like.
In other words, they have trouble putting their foot down.
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But here is Mikey to the rescue!
Dr. Delicate Touch has no such hang-ups.
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Similarly, when Donatello runs into trouble, as he is unable to recognize his own emotions, it’s up to Doctor Feelings to help his desperate client in need.
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Through taking on these roles, Mikey is able to support his brothers and fill the emotional gaps in his teammates, which, inevitably makes them all stronger.
How is Mikey able to do this and how does he have the strength to take on these roles?
You could think that it’s just in his character, meaning, it’s just how he is. I don’t think so, though. He’s a free thinker, and a creative, but there’s something about these roles that is specifically catered to the needs of his family.
Then I realized, the only reason that Mikey is able to help his brothers in this way is because they first helped him.
Let me explain.
All four of the boys grew up in the same household. Although Splinter tried his very best (there is no Splinter hate here), a single depressed parent doth not a stable child make. Raphael struggled with the burden of his responsibilities as an ad hoc leader (see Being Big Red), Leo struggled with expressing his natural talents as a middle child (see Being Baby Blue), all while Donnie struggled with carving out his place on the team and his feelings of uselessness (see Being Purple Part One and Part Two).
Well, what does Mikey struggle with?
In my humble opinion, nothing.
The struggles of his brothers all related to each turtle coming to terms with themselves and coming to terms with their place on the team.
Yet, due to the love and support of his brothers and father, Michelangelo never had to ask himself if he belonged, struggle with his role on the team, or make huge life-changing decisions that could affect everyone.
Michelangelo is free to just be Michelangelo.
And as a free spirit who is completely in tune with his own emotions, he is able to do things like this:
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and this,
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and this.
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Let’s get back to the scene in the library.
Angelo sees the high stakes of his friend’s pet disappearing forever if they fail but makes the decision to disqualify himself anyway. Why? Because he knows that no matter what he does, it will all be ok.
He has complete faith in his brothers and their ability to solve the problem at hand, so he might as well have some fun.
This not the first time he’s come to this conclusion.
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Through out this entire scene, Michelangelo plays in the background.
It’s scenes like this that makes me believe that Mikey’s faith in his family knows no bounds.
Altogether, his brothers and his father were everything he needed to become who he is. Reciprocally, he is free to be everything that they need him to be and more. Over…
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and over,
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and over again
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he trusts them completely.
And through this unwavering trust in his family, he is able to trust himself and his instincts. He knows that with everything they’ve poured into him, he can save them from, well, everything. Over…
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and over…
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and over again.
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Hence, due to all of this evidence, I believe that through the collective love of his family, Michelangelo became the best version of the Hamato spirit, and thus, the best Mystic Warrior of all time.
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All because, he’s Orange, baby!
○○○○
Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One • Being Purple ○ Part Two
Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi
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screeching-bunny · 2 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do the yandre!game show host with a himbo/bimbo reader
Yandere! Game Show Host x Bimbo/Himbo Reader Asks 1
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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Yandere! Game Show Host would absolutely adore you. He absolutely enjoys how there's absolutely not a single thought behind your eyes. He could literally be nonchalantly pulling up your clothes and you would be too dumb or preoccupied to notice him doing it. Would definitely make you wear provocative clothes all under the pretense of how it would be good for the viewer ratings and that this is just the policy of the company. Now get your ass in those tight little outfits before he explodes due to anticipation.
Yandere! Game Show Host likes how you are basically almost always dolled and glammed up no matter the time of day. He’d definitely feed into your shopaholic habits if you had any and would only allow you to get the skimpiest of clothes. There is probably a one hundred percent chance of you getting every single question wrong on the quizzes so he has to alter your answers for you.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Okay now sweetie, what does blue and red make?”
You: “Uhhhhhh orange?”
Yandere! Game Show Host: “..... what's that you say? Purple? Why, that’s correct!!!”
You: “No I said–”
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Yep and I heard you say purple!!!!”
Other Contestants: Side-eying him
Viewers: *Too stunned to speak*
Yandere! Game Show Host is shoving his tongue down your throat the fastest chance he gets. Out of all of the yanderes he is definitely the most horniest. If you ever tell him that you want to pay him back for all he’s done for you, he’s immediately whipping his cock out, no questions asked. Just put those glossy lips right on there and all of your debt is immediately forgiven. He definitely makes sure to emphasize how sexually frustrated he is and how he would just loveeee it if someone were to give him the best sloppy toppy ever. Tries to convince you that if you don’t do it he might actually die.
Yandere! Game Show Host enjoys how easily distracted you get and how you have a hard time focusing on multiple things at once. If you ever tried to escape from him all he has to do is talk about how female hyenas have penises and you’d immediately forget what you were about to do. If he ever needed to fall asleep all he'd have to do is talk about the fall of Rome and you’d be out like a light.
Yandere! Game Show Host takes advantage of how you never fully process the dangerous situations you put yourself in. For example when it comes to the sleeping arrangement, contestants are put strictly in one room to be monitored 24/7 but you’d probably complain how you don’t want to sleep in a room with so many people in it. Yandere! Game Show Host would happily decide to offer for you to sleep with him in his bed which you would readily agree to. Next thing you know you’re stuck in bed with a creep who’s busy fondling you to sleep properly. He’d probably try to make this a regular thing and just force you to stay there every night from then on there.
You: “It was so nice of you to let me sleep in your bed that was so nice of you. It’s really weird though, you have such a big house but only one bedroom with one bed. You should probably start decorating your house better.”
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Yeah silly me I should really do better.”
You: “Wait a sec–” Notices how there's a piece of underwear that you lost a week ago peeking out of his drawer. “OH MY GOSH YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE!! YOU NOTICED HOW MY UNDERWEAR HAS GONE MISSING SO YOU GOT ME NEW PAIRS!!! HOW THOUGHTFUL OF YOU!!!”
Yandere! Game Show Host: sweating nervously. “... Yeah I noticed that too. You might not want to touch those though. They’re a little dirty because I haven’t washed them yet and accidentally spilled something on them yesterday–”
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teamatsumu · 4 months
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Gojo has a thing for biting.
He didn’t think he did. He has explored every kink known to man but biting just felt weird in the past. It never did anything for him, he just did it if a past partner asked.
That’s why he does it to you. He’s balls deep in your pussy, biting his lip at the feel of your warm, tight walls, when he sees your hazy eyes flash down to his lips. You lick your own and moan breathlessly before pulling him closer by his shoulders.
“Satoru,” you sound so sweet. “Bite me.”
He doesn’t think much of it, eyes moving down to your neck. But then, when you arch your torso and throw your head back, he is greeted with the sight of the corded, sweaty muscle in your neck, taut and defined. He eyes the graceful slope of your collarbone, is hit with the lovely scent of your flowery perfume, and he feels his mouth water.
It is on instinct, something primal that he can’t hold back, and his face is buried into your neck, teeth sinking into the flesh, soft at first, then harder when he hears your broken moan. He feels the way your cunt tightens around him, makes his hips stutter, and he speeds up, feeling his dick throb even harder. He moans into your neck, releasing the skin to look down at the red teeth marks freshly engraved into you, his own spit mingling with your sweat, and then he is surging forward again, right next to the previous bite, and biting down even harder.
He knows the marks are red only now, and that they will grow into a darker blue, maybe even purple, as time passes.
He cums harder than he has in his entire life, his teeth still digging hard into your flesh, and judging by how loud you wailed, and how you thrashed in his arms, and how your sweet cunt gushed all over his cock and his pelvis, he was willing to guarantee it was the same for you.
Good luck trying to keep his teeth off you from now on. Oh, and get some really good concealer.
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predestinatos · 5 months
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warm enough for you | CL16 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
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chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary: charles has a special way of getting under your skin, especially when he insists on staying after the party is over. chapter 1 of an ongoing series.
tags: enemies to lovers, smut with a bit of plot, cocky!charles, bratty!yn
word count: 3.6k
minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath
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warnings: smut, drunk (tipsy) sex, oral (f!receiving), penetration, unprotected sex.
author's note: first time attempting at writing smut and posting anything so please keep up with me. currently working on part 2.
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Everyone was slowly leaving your apartment, the party reaching its natural end. Bottles were scattered across your living room, but apart from that, the flat was not as messy as expected. The party was more of a get together, given the small venue where you lived.
You were dizzy, the alcohol getting to your head and body, but conscious enough to decide that you could still clean things up before going to sleep. You waited for everyone to leave, and as you were getting ready to finally let out a deep breath you seemed to be holding the whole night, you notice someone standing, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. “Fuck you scared the shit out of me,” you start. His tall figure contrasted with the multicolored shadows of your living room, still dancing to a rhythm that was no longer there.
Then he chuckled. You knew it was him, he did not have to make a sound for you to recognize his frame, the way he always crossed his arms when he looked at you, as if in constant judgment. But if you had any doubts, that sound gave you all the certainty you needed. It was the chuckle he let out before a snarky remark. “I’m sorry, princess, I didn’t know you were so sensitive…” and there it was. The pet name used solely to annoy you, the tone that clarified his only purpose was to get under your skin.
“I would argue with you, but honestly I just want to clean up so please leave, thank you.” It was true. You enjoyed entertaining this back and forth, feeling him getting more and more irritated yet pleased with himself. But you were not in the mood for it, at least not now. Your head was softly spinning and taking your mind off of things is exactly what you need.
As you walk past him to the living room, in an attempt to showcase how you were not going to even acknowledge him, let alone join him in his games, he pushes himself off of the doorframe. “Just thought you could use some help.”
This was ridiculous, and you let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Since when does he want to help you? Ever since the day you two met, he made it his mission to be as unhelpful as he could, rolling his eyes at everything you said, giving counter arguments to your opinions even if he agreed with them, all whilst smiling towards you with the look of pleasure over someone’s anger. You tried your best to avoid him, but it was impossible to do so, since your friend group was the same. Wherever you went, there he was, and vice versa. Eventually, obviously, you started acting the same way towards him as he did with you, and this just amused your friends even more. That was why he was here, in your apartment. He comes with the friends package, whether you like it or not.
Once again, apart from the laugh, you said nothing else. Instead, you leaned down and started picking up the empty bottles from the floor, whilst the lights kept changing colors from blue to purple to red. To your surprise, you hear him do the same, although he stumbles on himself a bit more than you. “Lightweight” you say, smirking, making your way towards the kitchen to put the bottles in a trash bag. That, and because the silence in the living room was too loud, made it too tight for both of you to fit.
As you placed the empty bottles carefully in the bag, avoiding the loud noise of glass on glass to heighten your soon to come headache, you feel a hand on your waist. His hand. His grip was tight and soft at the same time, sending shivers down your body which contrast with your annoyance. “Excuse me” he said behind you, almost whispering in your ear. His hand left your waist as fast as it got there, an indication of how he was aware you wanted more. “Was this less scary?” he asked, ironically.
You turned to look at him, almost ignoring the fact that you were trapped against the balcony as his body. You could feel his gaze on yours, and while you tried to hold it, you realized you couldn’t. The best you could do was run a hand through your hair in an attempt to disguise the tension running through your body. “You’re such an asshole” you said.
He finally looked away while smiling to himself, staring out the window. You took a second to notice the way his throat bobbed up and down, his hair was messy and careless due to the alcohol on his system which lowered his inhibitions. “You like it though.” Before you could turn away, his gaze stared at your again. His breathing was heavier than usual, the drunken smirk on his face juxtaposing with his furrowed eyebrows and darkened eyes. His face was so close, too close, for you to think straight. You looked at his lips, breaking eye contact once again, letting him win once again. “You wish” was all you could reply.
Without moving, his voice asked in defiance, “so what if I do?” You could feel his eyes exploring your body, his chest rising and falling in deep, steady, too controlled breaths. The red light in the living room shone behind him, highlighting his shape hovering above you. “That’s rich coming from you” you snickered. As much as you were feeling the tension between you both, as much as your teasing and bickering was reaching to a degree of immense repressed desire every time you two were in the same room, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. You couldn’t.
The first time you two met, he went out of his way to drunkenly inform you, at a club, that you two “would never happen” and that he “would never fuck you.” To this day you fail to understand where the comment came from, to this day you don’t understand why he hates you so much but insists on making his presence known to you.
At first he seemed confused at your comment, his eyes searching your face for an explanation, but soon enough they widen in realization. Letting out a soft laugh, Charles ran his hands through his hair, making it even messier. “You still think about that?”
It was a ridiculous question, and he knew it. It was hard to hear something like that from someone who you basically had just met, even though he was drunk when he said it. You had not even had time to consider any sort of thing happening between you two and he had already declared it impossible. It seemed unbelievable that someone could be so full of himself to the point of declaring he was not going to bed with you, even before you showed any interest.
You pushed him away softly, and he did not stop you, despite his clear disappointment. That emotion was quickly replaced by a raising of eyebrows as he saw you open the door to the fridge and taking out two cold beers, handing him one. “You don’t seem to be leaving anytime soon, so help yourself.” Was all you could say.
This behavior could be explained by the alcohol running through both of your veins already, by your tiredness over the night, or the sheer need for company you had been needing for a while. You moved towards the living room again, slouching down on the sofa, and you needed not look back to know Charles was following you.
He lifted your legs, which were resting softly on the couch, only to sit down and place them on his lap carefully, with a grin splattered across his face. His side profile revealed a certain rigidness, his jaw tight and tense, but his eyes were soft and calm. “Did you mean it, though?” you asked. You seemed to have interrupted his thoughts, because his expression was lost at your sudden break of silence in the dark room.
“What do you think?” he asked back, never willing to give you the upper hand or satisfaction of a normal conversation. You tried to distract yourself from his cold hand caressing your leg, mostly because you did not know how much of it was intentional. He seemed to be doing it so nonchalantly and carelessly, you wondered if most of it was just instinct.
You tried to calm your voice before you replied, even though the first word that came out of your mouth sounded deeper and higher at the same time, uneven and nervous. “Well- I think, according to what you said that nigh-“ you started, but couldn’t finish. He did not allow you to, interrupting you and turning his face to you for the first time since you two sat down. “I know you’re not that dense, princess.”
Even in the darkly lit room, you felt his gaze burning your skin, focusing on your lips, then your neck. Meanwhile, you stared at his hand, moving slightly up your leg, sending shivers throughout your whole body, shivers you wish he did not notice, but knew, deep down, he was aware of. He knew the effect these had on you, he knew how to please, because that was his reputation. And you hated it at first, hated that he was so confident in his skills and so utterly arrogant about them, but now it only aroused you even more. You took a big sip of your beer, in an attempt to cool your now burning body.
That seemed to remind Charles he was himself holding a bottle of beer in his own hand, because upon seeing you swallow the liquid, he looked at the hand which was holding it. Moving it in order to hold it by the neck, grinning to himself in proud arrogance, he brought it close to your skin, your body hissing in pleasure at the temperature. You closed your eyes and exhaled softly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much this seemingly simple action affected you, but also not wanting him to stop.
He whispered your name, the request for you to look at him implicit in his voice, and you complied. His movements did not stop, a slow game he seemed to be playing with you, in an attempt to see how far he could go. “You look so fucking hot,” he breathed.
Your body was aflame with lust, and so was his, you could tell. You could see him struggling to even speak clearly, to move clearly, trying his best to control his movements which threatened to unleash themselves. “Careful, Charles, you don’t want to break your promise,” you teased, as you slowly moved closer to him, both in defiance of his actions and tempting him to proceed with them.
He freed both of his hands as you placed yourself directly in front of him, sitting on his lap, feeling his erection through his jeans. “You’re making it very hard for me not to do it” he murmured. “Am I?” you asked again. You were feeling bold, enjoying how both of you were toying with the thin line between hate and desire, between forbidden and allowed. Charles merely nodded hungrily, his hands placed on your hips, caressing them softly.
Your pulse quickened at the touch, but also at his greedy and dark expression. You moved your hands towards his shirt, which you start unbuttoning slowly, revealing more and more of his skin slowly. Before you could move to the fourth button, he abruptly grabs a hold of your wrists and pins you to the sofa, underneath his frame. “Stop being such a fucking tease,” he demanded with an aggressive ardor in his voice. With that, he guided your hand which he was still holding towards his erection. You realized the agony he must be in, how his cock must be throbbing underneath those layers of fabric. You felt weak yourself, with an intoxicating need to undress, to ignite the fire that was visibly about to burst into crimson flames.
“You deserve it” you replied with a smirk. It didn’t seem to convince him, this attempt of yours at seeming stronger and unaffected by what was happening. You and him were playing a game but it was getting too real, too intense, too tempting. Letting go of your hand and getting closer to you, his lips mere inches away from yours, he placed a hand between your legs, feeling the pooling wetness growing. Your whole body shuddered at this, a moan escaping your lips and giving you away. “You’re just making it harder for yourself,” he whispered smugly, lips brushing against yours.
Desperately you pulled him in for a kiss. His kiss was filled with intoxicating craving, a groan escaping his lips at the sudden action, his hips grinding against you in frenzied movements. Breaking your kiss, his lips moved towards your neck, softly biting it and leaving wet marks as he kept going down. You undid the knot holding your short dress together, thanking yourself for the easy-access choice of wardrobe.
As he kissed your stomach and paused at your navel, looking up at you as if asking for confirmation. You looked at him and saw how he looked: disheveled and flushed, his cheeks red and messy hair. He looked absolutely mesmerizing, the mix of complete submission but demanding attitude affecting your body through a quickened pulse. You could only nod your permission, finding yourself at a loss of words. He did not hesitate to pull down your lacy underwear, leaving you exposed to him, feeling his warm breath against you. All at once, his lips were exploring your opening, followed by his tongue, moving with ravish.
You cried audibly in pleasure, your back arching against him in untamed pleasure. Unable to hold his own need for pleasure, Charles unzipped his jeans and began stroking himself. His ragged grunts made your body melt in jolts of bliss, and watching him touching himself as he ate you out sent you completely over the edge.
He raised his eyes at you as he kept savoring you, some of his hair sticking to his forehead, his gaze filled with contrasting innocence and total control over you. He pulled his lips away from you, placing himself above your frame, making you look so small in comparison to him. He hovered over you, shirt completely unbuttoned, hand still pleasuring his cock, visibly throbbing with need. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of him, face wet from your juices and his saliva, chest rising and falling incoherently. “I knew you’d love it” he breathed out.
It was admirable, really. How he still teased you and made it his mission to get under your skin, even like this. “That’s all you’ve got?” you replied, eyebrows raised, eyes half closed in unspoken defiance. “You’re jerking yourself off like a desperate teenager and I’m the one ‘loving it’?” you were testing him. Trying to see how much you could push him over the edge, annoy him, how he would take it out on you – or not.
“God you’re such a fucking brat” he hissed, holding your body with ease and turning you around, lying on your stomach. With his knees, he spread your legs apart and positioned himself between them. You felt him lower himself down, preparing yourself to be filled up, to quench the thirst growing at every passing second but- nothing was happening.
“What the fuck-“ you complained, annoyed. It was slightly embarrassing, your frustration over how long he was taking, and when you turned your head around slightly to see what was wrong, you saw that he had won. He was doing it on purpose, despite his own desperation to bury himself inside you. Amused, he chuckled bringing his hand to your back, caressing it as if to ease your pain in mocking comfort. “You have to tell me what you want, princess.”
“You can’t be serious” you hissed back. But he was, and you knew it. You had gotten this far already, and yet he would not let this go, and you did not know why he insisted so much. You had no idea how much it turned him on to see that only he could affect you like he did, to see how much control he had over you.
Rolling your eyes and doing your best at a monocordic voice, you complied “fuck me, Charles.” Yes, you were being bratty and petty, and yes, you would do anything just for him to fill the emptiness you were feeling inside you.
“You’re such a brat,” he growls as he thrusts himself into you. Your instantly arch your back in pain ad pleasure, feeling his whole body vibrating into you with untamed hunger. His hands grip your waist and force you to switch from a lying position to all fours, allowing him to access you easier. He continued his thrusts as he left bites on the back of your neck, and you filled the room with your cries.
He was not being soft or sweet about it. Charles was completely immersed in his need to have you, so much so that he could barely see anything apart from you, back arched in pleasure for him, the switching lights illuminating every curve of your body in sensuous effect. He dreamt about possessing you like this so often, thought about how good you’d feel so many times, that what was happening seemed to him unreal. He felt himself close to coming as you clenched around him, but before he could so, he pulled himself out of you.
 “Not yet,” he started. His voice was husked and lazy, a reflection of how much restraint it was taking him not to fill you up already. You were about to protest, being so close yourself, but as you turned around you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of him. His green eyes were glossy, his face completely flushed and sweaty from withhold pleasure. As you stared at him, he raised an eyebrow and gave you a half-smile. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, doing nothing to fix it, but it didn’t matter. He seemed almost shy about how you were looing at him, which was insane and ridiculous, given what you were doing, what you were.
 “I want to look at you” you said. This caused Charles’ eyes to widen in surprise, not expecting your bluntness. Even you were shocked at what you said and how demanding you sounded, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Holding one of your ankles and placing it on his shoulder, Charles entered you with unleashed violence, his gazed interlocked with yours. You thought about how pornographic the view must be for him as well, your swollen lips, some tears of pleasure running through your cheeks, and a sloppy smile plastered across your face. You feel absolutely lightheaded, almost drunk with ecstasy. “Putain, j'aime quand tu me regardes comme ça” he said, French escaping his lips as he loses all capacity to form coherent thoughts. This just made your pulse quicken, your skin bursting with fulfillment.
 His pace fastened even more, as he grunted and throbbed with how good he felt inside you. “Your cunt feels so fucking good” he kept repeating, his eyebrows furrowed as if attempting to delay his orgasm. “Charles, I- I’m gonna cum” you try telling him, between breaths and moans. “Fuck, fuck, look at me” he demanded, holding your face so it wouldn’t move away from his gaze. With that, you erupted in pleasure, completely undone beneath him, body trembling.
The view was so overwhelming, Charles couldn’t help but come as well, filling you up with fervent ardor, his body falling limply on top of yours. He remained there, his breathing uneven and erratic, just like yours.
You both lost track of time as you lay there, together. You could have fallen asleep like that, maybe you had, there was no way to tell. He felt warm and comfortable against you, and you felt so close and secure to him that neither of you dared to move.
After a while, his fingers starting drawing small, invisible designs on your still sensitive skin, causing you to giggle. For some time, you two just existed together with nothing else retraining your behavior, your own hands playing with his soft hair, a tired smile on his face.
You wake up with light filling your living room, giving you momentary blindness. The headache was done with its threat to show up, now attacking you with full force, limiting your movements and thoughts. Despite everything, you remembered the night before. Even if you did not, there was evidence that something had happened – or, better, there wasn’t any, and that’s what caught your attention.
The living room was pristine and looked untouched. You were fully dressed in some comfortable clothes, and the TV was on despite the fact that its volume was almost fully off. It seemed as if this was an ordinary day, but you knew it wasn’t.
You grabbed your phone and stared at its screen empty of any sort of texts, notifications or messages. Nothing to prove the night before. You knew it was a mistake to do so, but you couldn’t help typing out the text:
To: Charles (Asshole) Hey, got home safe? (11:33am)
All you got back was a small text underneath yours, which said “Read (11:47)”
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yoisami · 6 months
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˚₊‧୨୧ ATTRACTED TO YOU !
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[૮₍ ˃ࡇ˂ ₎ა]: how your favourite blue lock character flirts with you/shows you his affection—high school edition ! this was 100% brain rot but i had fun writing this 乁⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠o⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ㄏ
tags. isagi, kunigami, kaiser, nagi, rin, sae x gn!reader (separately), 1363 wc, just fluff, high school romance, unestablished relationship, reader is called “pretty” and “cute”, kunigami is the favourite child today, not proofread
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ISAGI doesn’t necessarily flirt since he’s more of a genuine guy (??), but he regularly compliments you (they’re hints that he likes you). he’s a perceptive guy, so he’ll notice little details about you and will let you know that he likes them. he’s also the type to compliment your handwriting (real), and as your seatmate, he does pay attention to the way your brows furrow when the teacher puts up a harder equation on the board. he’s not great at mathematics himself, and will ask you to explain the concept to him, hence seizing the opportunity to tell you that you’re so smart ! also, isagi isn’t afraid to let you know that you look nice—he’s not bold about it, but he’s not completely shy about it either. this normally happens in the morning though—just as you’re placing your bag down onto your desk, and pulling out all the textbooks you need for today, he’ll greet you good morning from behind, and tells you that you look really pretty today in a very nonchalant manner (you’re left blushing profusely until you notice that the tips of his ears are bright red) !
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KUNIGAMI prefers to show his affection towards you by doing things for you. his method of flirting is by offering you a hand when you need help, or even just completing the whole task for you. such as classroom duty—you’re paired with him this week to ensure that the classroom is left spotless after class, and while there’s multiples tasks you both have to do (sweeping the floor, wiping the blackboard clean, dusting the windows), he simply just tells you to take a rest and he’ll do it all. you refuse though, since he’s also had a long day too, so you remind him that the responsibility is shared between the two of you (he falls even harder for you after this). when the school’s volleyball team coach asks you to fetch the box of jerseys that’s placed on a high shelf, kunigami offers to go with you ! since it’s a bit too high for your reach, you use a ladder to give yourself some bonus height, and kunigami’s standing right behind you, hands hovering over your waist, ready to catch you if you fall (you don’t lol) !
bonus (!): the teacher has forced all late students to run laps around the field as punishment in the morning, and unfortunately, you were one of them. you’re heaving as you’re running with your bag, but you feel someone tugging your bag off your shoulders—it’s kunigami ! while the teacher is questioning why he was running too (he came early), all he says is that he wants to train his stamina as he takes your bag, throws it over his shoulder, and continues to run beside you ! (i watch k-dramas ok)
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KAISER flirts openly. very openly (canon). but it’s clever—the way he’s able to string a few words together and it’s as pleasing as a bouquet of purple lilacs, leaving you a blushing mess. it’s almost like he flirts strategically, and every word and action he executes has a purpose—which is to make you fancy him ! kaiser will throw in compliments here and there, but he prefers to show it to you, such as deliberately reaching for the same item just to make sure your hands touch. and he pretends to reel back his hand, muttering sorry, but internally, he’s satisfied with his accomplishment, because you’ve turned away to hide your cute blush ! i believe that you will find kaiser annoying, so it’s a breath of fresh air when the two of you share a conversation about your dreams, and his hand is already right beside yours (with your pinkies touching !!), itching to hold yours. kaiser’s a proud individual, and he will show off at any given moment, making sure that you’re watching. it’s a lunchtime game of soccer, and he knows you and your friends are sitting close to the field. after being challenged by an upperclassmen, he agrees, but first he “accidentally” rolls the ball to your direction. instead of asking you to kick it back, he approaches you, saying, “watch me, yeah?” with a very charming wink as he jogs back with the ball in his hands !
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NAGI isn’t the type of “flirt” either, but instead acts almost friendlier to you, and you can tell he’s intrigued by you by staying close to you. he’s not clingy, but he definitely likes to stay within your vicinity—while you’re sitting at your desk at lunch, trying to finish the history homework that is due today, nagi will not leave his seat beside you, and will merely pull his phone out and start gaming. he doesn’t talk much, but does engage in the conversations you share with him by nodding his head, letting you know that he’s paying attention to what you’re saying ! nagi’s unintentionally flirty sometimes—he doesn’t know that sharing earphones is somewhat a romantic gesture, but offers to give you the other earpiece when you ask him what he’s listening to; he doesn’t understand why you’re blushing when he’s resting his head against the table, blankly staring up at you, but indulges in how cute you look. it’s raining and you’re already beginning to walk out of the school gates, but nagi runs after you as he takes cover under your umbrella, clothes looking damp from the rain. he’s slightly panting, and you’re asking him why on earth he didn’t just pull out his own umbrella. all he says is that it’s bothersome to do so, but in reality, he just wanted to walk you home.
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RIN likes to admire you from afar (hear me out)—this means that stolen glances are really common between the two of you, and you catch him staring most of the time. in response to being caught, rin looks away at the speed of light, making you doubt yourself and wonder if it’s simply your mind playing tricks on you. rin will also defend you if he notices someone gossiping about you ! story time: you’re pretty close to one of the popular guys in your class, and sometimes the two of you eat together at lunch. you also have a friend from chemistry and you consider yourselves as good friends, but a few months back, some girls were gossiping about you, claiming that you were “two-timing”. of course, rin overheard, and he immediately stood up for you, belittling those girls with a cold expression before he walked off and left. there are moments where he does talk to you, but he’s not the greatest at continuing the conversation, so he opts to watch you from a distance. there are moments where you’re laughing heartily with your group of friends, and he can’t help but let that little smile appear on his lips. he reckons your smiles are contagious, but honestly, he just enjoys looking at pretty things (you) !
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SAE’s “flirting” method is a bit stiff—you can tell he’s clearly not experienced in the field of romance, but you enjoy his efforts ! he’s terrible at giving compliments, and once had offended you in the process of trying to tell you how nice your hair looked today. he doesn’t seem shy, but he definitely keeps some space between you two, because most of the time, he’s trying to think of an excuse to talk to you ! when he’s feeling bold, he will seize the moment to be physically closer to you—such as if you’re reading in the library, he’ll take the seat opposite of you without saying a word, and pretends to be reading the back page of some random autobiography he picked up from the nearest shelf. he looks invested in it, but it’s all a facade as he steals frequent glances at you ! he’s also very much the type to leave you drinks from vending machine without letting you know it’s from him ! he’ll buy you a can of your favourite juice, and will leave it at your desk during lunch break—a small gift to congratulate you on achieving the highest mark in the class.
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© yoisami 2023. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works outside of tumblr is not permitted.
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gojos-espresso · 9 months
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Him reacting to you wearing your sexy crochet lingerie you made-
Pt-1
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A/N: Just made this sexy crochet bra top and now I can't it of my brain on how my favs will react to it.
Warnings: slightly suggestive
Kaveh/Alhaitham/kaeya/childe x nb!AFAB! reader
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His eyes didn't leave your hands as you twisted and pulled through the threads of your new "project". You often made cute plushies or sweaters for him and yourself but this was a little different. You won't tell him what it was you were making which caused his curiosity even more. He tried peeking into your phone as you worked or tried his best to figure it out, but you just won't budge. Here you are standing in front of him, eyes wide in shock, as a small trail of blood ran down his nose.
Inspiration
KAVEH
He just couldn't believe his eyes, Standing awkwardly at the entrance, mouth agape. So this was what you had been working on all along? A pink lacy baby doll with matching panties. Shyly walking towards him you slightly twirled showing off the airy material and your sexy figure. "You made this!?" He squealed as he reached out to you, holding onto you firmly. He adored your creativity, and all the gifts you gave him were cherished by him. But seeing you use your talents to such an extent, just for him made him so hard. Pining you to the wall, he slid to his knees as he slowly kissed up your thighs, kneading your ass. He softly kissed you over your panties before making eye contact with you. His red eyes were darker than before.
"What did I do to deserve you? My reward for your hard work will be rich and sweet. Come on open up your legs more"
ALHAITHAM
The only time he would put his book down in the first go is when you are the one calling him. Sighing he looks up to see you shyly walking up to him. The green of the garment caught his eyes quickly. On closer inspection, he realized it was the yarn you begged him to buy just last week. "What do you think?" You inquire whilst adjusting your top which became a little too see-through. Keeping the book down he reaches out to you pulling you onto his lap. "It's perfect" he replies whilst pulling onto the strings of your top, inspecting every detail as his hand slid down your body and resting on your thighs.
"What other ways are you going to use to pull me into you? Well, you aren't going anywhere" tomorrow."
CHILDE
The Shneznayan cold made you pick up crochet. Sitting with the village grannies and making sweaters and plushies for the kids was your biggest source of happiness other than that one ginger-haired sweetheart. He loved your creations. Your sweaters were an instant hit with the townspeople but also with your lover. Hearing the clinking of keys you ran out of the room covering yourself in a blanket. The harbinger oh so ever tired made himself known in the house grumbling about how tiring it was. "Like seriously why does- NAME!" He cut himself off before shrieking out. A hand now covering his agape mouth as you twirled in the red piece you made." I had some scrap yarn left from your sweater so-Hey!!" He threw you over his shoulder and made way for the bedroom.
"Sweetheart you ain't leaving the house for the next two days"
KAEYA
He hadn't been home for a week, the trip to Sumeru was exhausting, the heat getting him. The sun had already set in Mondstadt, the purple hues scattered in the sky. Groggily he climbs the stairs of his apartment, a wine bottle in hand to enjoy with you. "I'm home!" He calls out as he enters the house. The living room was a mess scattered with yarn everywhere. He chuckled being reminded of your love for crochet. Dropping his bags he walks towards the bedroom hoping you are asleep, instead, he is greeted by the sight of you wearing a lacy baby doll in baby blue, the same color as the yarn scattered around and checking yourself out in the mirror. Walking swiftly he hugs you from behind causing you to yelp. " Darling when did you mmph-" He kissed you square on the lips as his hands opened the strings of your top.
"How do you become more and more irresistible every time I'm away? I believe my thirst for you will never be satiated."
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itsbeeble · 3 months
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NO BITCHES?
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SUMMARY: When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.
GENRE: smut, fluff, crack, mild angst
PAIRING: Eric Sohn x afab!reader (ft hak, sunwoo, sunwoo's gf, and sangyeon)
WC: 10.5k (there go my plans of proving Ally wrong)
SERIES MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez
18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
WARNINGS: um... okay so virgin!eric, kinda dom!reader, eric's a fucking loser, reader kinda makes fun of him at first for being a virgin, reader kinda teaches eric about everything from kissing to uh...yeah, dry humping, kissing, making out, oral (m and f receiving), eric cums in his pants, eric plays fnaf, um...public making out? public fingering?, multiple orgasms, eric goes from little virgin boy to I TOLD YOU WE NEEDED MORE GLITTER real fast, sunwoo slander, sunwoo's annoying in this idk, eric's a dumb gamer boy who needs desperate help from the boy who concussed his gf (cough sunwoo), slight bit of miscommunication?, eric cries (ummmm dacryphilia?), reader also cries (again...dacryphilia?), edging el oh el, sunwoo and. reader know the importance of CONSENT, i think that's all the important stuff
A/N: I'm never gonna beat the allegations... ally will always think i bias eric. Anyway, happy birthday to my little munchkin princess eric sohn 🥰🥰
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Eric was practically shaking as he approached you. Scratch that, he was definitely shaking but he could blame the ripples covering the drinks in his hand on the pumping base. It thrummed in his veins, or maybe that was his pulse steadily increasing when he locked eyes with you.
You. His gorgeous, intelligent, perfect…
Lab partner. You were his lab partner and at that very moment, nothing more. At least, not in your eyes. Eric, though? He was enamored by you. The way you laugh, the teasing grin when he does something wrong and you scold him, the way your body looks in that dress—
“Hi.” You look away from your friends and face him, a curious look on your face. He’s starting to feel warm. Was it warm in here? He thinks he’s starting to sweat, and can feel something drip down the back of his neck.
“Hi…?” Your hands are empty, and Eric forces himself not to jump up and down with glee that he doesn’t have to make the excuse of having two drinks for himself. 
“I’m— Do you—” He stutters, and heat begins to spread from his neck to his cheeks as your friends giggle. You just smile. A kind smile that has his body slowly relaxing the more he looks at your face. “Do you wanna drink— I mean— fuck, I meant do you want a drink. Not— not do you wanna drink— I mean that could—  that is also a question, but—”
More laughter from your friends and Eric suddenly thinks he’s gonna throw up all over you, your dress, and his nice white button-up shirt that he’d forced Sangyeon to iron for him. 
“Thank you, Eric.” You say, reaching for the cup in his left hand. Your fingers brush against his, and his knees begin to wobble visibly. Your smile disappears into a concerned frown, and suddenly Eric’s attention is on your lips. He isn’t paying attention to his surroundings anymore. Can’t find himself caring that your friends are still laughing at the scenario, nor that you shoo them away. 
“Eric?” Your hand waves in front of his face, effectively catching the boy’s attention. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah!” Eric says it far too quickly, knowing immediately that you don’t believe him. Fortunately, one of his many charms is that he’s very good at lying to people. “I’m perfectly fine. Why do you ask?” 
You giggle, and it’s the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard.
“You just— you seem a little uncomfortable right now.” You lean close to him, scanning his face under the flashing lights. You can hardly make out his features under the colors. Blue, purple, red, white, green, yellow. All the colors under the rainbow covered his face and changed every few seconds. When they flashed white, you swear you can see a flush in his cheeks. 
“Why would I be uncomfortable?” He leans toward you with a sudden surge of confidence that has your heart pounded a bit. “Why would I ever be uncomfortable around the most beautiful girl in the building?”
And there it is, folks, you think. Your eye twitches, something so subtle that Eric fails to catch it. The irritation, the disappointment. 
“Ah, I see.” You grimace, and Eric begins to panic again. 
“What— did I upset you?” He asks, and you roll your eyes. 
“Eric, if you wanna get into my pants you’re gonna have to try better than that.” 
Eric’s heart drops to the floor, his face flushing even more as he begins to panic. He stutters, he tries to backtrack, he tries to explain himself. You, however, are hearing none of it. Not a single word that comes out of his mouth reaches your ears. 
“Stop, Eric.” You snap and his mouth snaps shut. “Just…Just stop.” 
You set the cup he’d given you down on the table, and he stares at it dumbly while you storm away to find your friends again. The amber liquid in the cup sloshes with the base echoing around it and the loud noise of partygoers around him. 
He watches it spill over the lip of the cup, and then sets his own cup down next to it, turning around to return to the party but the weight of crushing rejection sits uncomfortably on his chest. 
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It’s two days later when you see Eric again. Monday morning, an 8AM Physics lecture that no one wants to be in. Two weeks into the semester, and almost twenty people had already dropped the class. He walks in with a black hat covering his head, and a white tee shirt covering his torso. It’s certainly not clothing suitable for the cold air of early February, but he’d been unable to do his laundry over the weekend due to the parties on Friday and Saturday and the neverending clean-up that occurred on Sunday. 
He spots you, tucked well into the second row, and his eyes light up. Yours, on the other hand, narrow. You keep your gaze on him while he makes his way up to you as quickly as possible, hoping to have a chance to talk to you before the lecture begins. 
“Hey,” he grins at you, gently setting his bag on the chair to his left and turning to face you. Your eyes are still narrowed with suspicion. “How was your weekend?” 
How was your weekend? It’s as if the both of you hated that question; one of you cringing with something close to disgust, the other with something like horror. Is he stupid?
“It was fine,” you tell him curtly. Eric frowns, leaning back in his chair when you turn your gaze to the front. 
“Did I do something wrong?” He blurts out, and your shoulders sag. Was that the wrong thing to ask? Did he do something wrong?
“Did you seriously just ask me that?” You hiss out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He opens his mouth to speak, but he has a hard time finding the words. What is he even supposed to say? What if you think he’s an asshole for not knowing what was wrong? What if you never smile at him again?
“I— honestly I really don’t know!” You scoff and Eric sits up, leaning forward on the table to get a better view of your face. You can see the pout, see the way his eyebrows knit together in what you can only assume is faux confusion. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he did.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You look at him fully now and watch the way his body recoils from the words. Hurt, confusion. No anger. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Eric Sohn angry in the two years you’d shared classes with him. 
“What— what did I even do?” The professor walks in, and he hushes his voice. “I can’t fix things if I don’t know what I did wrong!”
“That’s your own damn fault then, isn’t it?” You click your pen, and Eric shuts up. You almost feel bad, carefully watching as he takes out his own notebook to begin taking notes. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the lecture, and you feel a pang of regret in your chest. Maybe he really doesn’t know what he did wrong, you think, nibbling on your lip in thought. No, there’s no way he doesn’t know. He’s the smartest guy in the room, no way does he not know what— 
You glance at Eric again, this time turning your head to fully look at him. His blond hair falls over his eyes, even with the hat covering his head. His shoulders are hunched, his hand moving so quickly over the lined paper so that he can at least try to keep up with your professor. For a moment, you think about Eric Sohn. About the frat boy who had been nothing but kind to you since the day you met. About the boy who once gave you notes far more detailed than you’d ever written during the week you were sick. About the boy who—
No, you shake your head and begin to write down more equations you know you’re going to have to ask Eric about later. He’s a frat boy. All he wants is a good fuck and then he’s gone. 
But why did he seem so hurt when you spoke to him so rudely? When you turned him away not once, but twice within the past three days. 
You liked him, you really did! He was kind, thoughtful, and he was always helping anyone he could. He never refused to help anyone, even if it was a subject that he didn’t know that well. Had you gotten it wrong? Was he just trying to talk to you and you had responded—
Your pen clicks again as you give up on the notes, and you lean back in your chair to squint at the whiteboard in front of you. 
Talking with Eric Sohn was inevitable, but it was only a matter of how long you could avoid the topic—
“I want all of you to pair up. These will be your partners for the midterm project.”
Eric’s gaze turns to you uneasily, tilting his head in question. You bite down hard on your tongue, fighting every urge inside of you to turn around and ask the girl behind you to be partners. 
Fuck, how could you say no to those eyes?
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Your room is brighter than Eric thought it would be. When you originally invited him over to study that night, he had been terrified. Was your apartment going to be almost falling apart? What if it was really nice and he broke something? What if you killed him and stuffed him into a dumpster?
Fortunately, none of those things were necessarily true. Your building wasn’t falling apart, thankfully, although it was arguably nicer than any other off-campus apartments and you could still choose to kill him. 
It was nice, though. It was a two-bedroom apartment that you shared with your friend Eunseung, one full bathroom and another half-bathroom, a decent kitchen, and a nice-sized living space. According to what you told him in the last semester, the rent wasn’t too awful either. 
The walls of your bedroom were yellow, but not an ugly shade of yellow. It was pastel, not quite bright enough to be harsh on the eyes but not dark enough to make it hard to see. You’d lined bookshelves up to the wall, most filled with books but some with photos and plants and music albums. You had a small desk in the corner, and your bed was aligned with the center of the back wall, a light green comforter covering white sheets. 
“I’m surprised we’ve never studied here.” You hum, but your tone is distant. Eric laughs dryly and sets his bag down on the ground next to your bedframe. 
“You prefer the library,” he points out. “The lighting is easier for your eyes.” 
For a moment, you pause in your motions. How did he—
“How did you know that?” You ask, turning to face him. You can see the flush in your partner’s cheeks, and he ducks his head so that the baseball cap on his head covers his eyes. 
“I just— you would always squint when we studied at the library or— or at the TBZ house. I just…I figured that was the reason.” I pay attention. That’s what you knew he meant. 
Why does a boy who only wants to get into your pants care so much about you?
“Oh.” You dig your laptop out of your bag and take a seat on your bed, leaning against your pillows with your legs straight out in front of you. Eric joins you, sitting crosslegged at the other end of the bed. He’s careful not to get too close, shifting away from you when you adjust your position. Your skirt flares out to the side, ruffled by the blanket and exposing your thighs a bit more. Eric has to force his eyes to remain on his laptop. You notice, but there’s no anger with it. You choose to not even acknowledge it. 
“So what do we wanna do for our project?” His eyes flick over to you, and you shrug. 
“We could build something?” You suggest. “Maybe, like, a paper airplane launcher?” 
He hums, tilting his head back and wrinkling his nose in thought. 
“What about something with electromagnetism?” You nod slowly. 
“That could be good. We could keep with the idea of building something and make an electric motor with things people have lying around their houses?” 
Eric grins at you. “Now we’re thinking. We’ll have this done in no time at all.”
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Eric was right. 
The brainstorming and research portion of the project had been completed within a few hours, and the two of you had cast your laptops to the side to search your apartment for things to use. Paper clips, some sort of copper wire (you had no idea why anyone would have a copper wire hanging around their house. Eric, however, said that there were several around the frat house), wood, some batteries. Anything that the two of you could use. The only thing neither of you had was a staple gun.
“It’s getting late,” Eric notes with a quick glance toward your living room window. You hum in response, lying back on your couch with your phone in your hand. “I should get going soon.”
Your eyes flick to him, but he isn’t looking at you. “Do you wanna stay the night?” 
Silence. A long moment of silence, and then Eric looks at you with a look nearing scandalized. 
“What?” You sit up, draping your arms over the back of your couch and getting a better look at him. 
“You heard me.” His face is bright red, similar to the night of the party. 
“Why would— why would I want— I mean th— thank you for the offer but— but I can’t stay the night. Why would— where would I even sleep? I don’t have clothes to sleep in!” He throws every excuse he could possibly think of at you, adding to your amusement. He had no clothes, where would he sleep, you had classes earlier in the morning than him, it would be weird if he stayed the night. It was cute. 
You’ll admit it, Eric was cute. The puppy-like look in his eyes, the pout on his lips. Everything about him was cute. It almost shocked you how fast you were able to get over the anger that he only wanted to sleep with you. In fact, you weren’t sure that’s what he even wanted from you. Only one way to find out, right?
“Eric,” you finally cut off his rambling and his voice stops, leaving your apartment oddly quiet. “Come here.” 
He listens, slowly slinking toward you. Eric is nervous, you can tell. Every step he takes, every twitch when you shift your body. It fills you with pride, or maybe some other emotion. 
Eric stops when he’s right in front of you, just a few steps from the back of the couch and both of you (really just him) are all too aware of how his crotch is level with your mouth. 
“I wanna tell you something,” you beckon him toward you with one finger and he slowly, albeit a bit awkwardly as well, bends down so that his face is just above yours. Heat radiates off his face, so hot that you may start sweating soon. “Do you wanna know a secret?”
His Adam’s apple bobs, his hands gripping the couch for dear life, short nails digging into the cheap fabric. 
“Sure.” Eric’s voice is hoarse, and it makes you smile. 
“I kinda like you, Eric.” 
Your lips press gently against his. Entirely experimental, just enough to see what he would do. His body seizes up, his breath hitching in his throat. He doesn’t move against you, doesn’t tilt his head or part his lips. He sits there like the lead in a lame drama where the main characters seem like they couldn’t be less into each other. You begin to pull away from him, fearing you’d made him a bit uncomfortable, but a whine is pulled from his throat when your lips part from his. 
You look at him, but he’s already looking at you with wide, bulging eyes. 
“Eric…” You have a sneaking suspicion that you know why he didn’t kiss you. “Have you…has no one ever kissed you before?”
“What?” The boy’s voice is shrill, and you know the answer. “Of— of course, I’ve been kissed? What kind of question is that?” 
Your lips quirk up. “Are you sure? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know.”
“What— why would I be embarrassed?” His frustration and denial are cute. Adorable, really. 
“Because you’re a sophomore in college and have been kissed once— by your physics partner, no less.” You smirk playfully and then gasp, pushing up and toward him suddenly. He reels back, nearly falling backward with the suddenness of the motion. “Eric Sohn! Are you a virgin?”
Eric looks like he’s about to cry from embarrassment, and he turns away from you completely. You grimace briefly and climb off the couch to come around and stand in front of him. He avoids your gaze by looking above you, around you, at the floor and the walls. 
“Eric,” your voice is gentle now. He doesn’t move, nor does he make any noise. He’s like a deer in headlights. “Eric, can you look at me.”
“No,” he denies, crossing his arms over his chest. You feel a bubble of amusement rising in your stomach. “You’re just gonna make fun of me.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” You promise, your hand grazing his forearm. Eric’s eyes lock with yours, and for once you choose to hold his gaze. “Now, can you tell me the truth so I can help you?” 
“Help me,” he echoes with an air of offense. “I don’t need help!”
“Eric, you’re a sophomore in college who’s in the most popular frat on the campus. Add onto that your personality and your good looks, you should be getting bitches left and right.” You say pointedly and the tips of his ears flush red. Or, rather, as red as they can when his whole face is burning up from your prior insinuations. 
“What if I’m just waiting for marriage?” He counters. “Or— or the right person?” Your lips draw into a thin line, knowing that statement was bullshit. 
“We both know you wouldn’t be hard as a rock right now if that was the case.”
Eric’s heart plummets to the ground, his eyes following it to check for himself. To his complete and utter dismay, you weren’t lying. Pressing against the front of his cargo pants was the solid outline of his member, straining against the seam and begging to be released. 
“I— I am so— so sorry,” he stammers, his hands yanking the edge of his sweatshirt down to cover himself, his hands remaining carefully placed over his crotch but he knows it’s too late. “I didn’t— I don’t— oh my god I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, holding tightly onto his sleeve so he can’t run for the door. “I knew you wanted to sleep with me, it was kind of obvious.”
“No I— I don’t want—” Eric frantically shakes his head. “I don’t— I can’t— I don’t wanna sleep with you— I mean I do, I really really do, but not— not like this—”
The hand on his sleeve comes up to grab his cheeks, squeezing them together until his lips are pushed out and he can’t speak anymore. 
“You can admit it, Eric.” You hum, and with your hand still on his face, you begin to walk him back and around to the side of the couch. He yelps when you push him back, letting go of his face and watching him fall over the arm and land with an oof on the cushions. “You can admit that you wanted to fuck me from the moment you saw me.”
“But I—” He choked on spit before he could finish talking, eyes widening into saucers when you climbed onto the couch, crawling up to sit on his lap. He’s sitting up straight now, but the risk of falling back again is high with nothing to support his spine. Your hands just rest on his shoulders, not digging in or moving to grasp anything else. They stay there, waiting for him to make the first move. 
“Tell me if you don’t want me to continue, Eric.” His hands are trembling, his pulse higher than it’s ever been. He slowly rotates his body, placing his feet firmly on the ground and resting his spine against the back of the couch so that he doesn’t hurt either of you. 
“I want—” his voice cracks. 
“What do you want?” Your lips are on his neck, featherlight kisses being left in your wake and knocking the breath out of him. He’d never felt like this, he’d never been touched like this save for his own hand in the darkness of his room with an animated video on loop on his laptop screen. At his lack of response, you pull your lips back from his neck. Eric lets out a loud whine at this, his left hand coming to the back of your head to lightly try and push you back into him. 
“Keep doing that,” he gasps out, and you smile. 
“Don’t you want me to kiss you?” You ask him, and another whine tumbles from his lips.
“I— fuck, I do— god, why are you doing this to me?”
“I just wanna know what you want, Eric,” you’re teasing him and you know it, but you’re pretty sure Eric might fall to pieces if you don’t give him something soon. “Can’t you tell me what you want?” 
“Just—” he leans his head back, and you watch the rapid bobbing of his throat as he tries to swallow and take in air and do anything to calm himself down. “Just do something.”
“What’s the magic word?” He raises his head, gasping when he finds your lips suddenly inches from his own. 
“Ple— please?” Your lips quirk up.
“Actually, it was—”
You don’t get the chance to tease him anymore. He crushes your lips together with so much force that it almost hurts. There’s nothing coherent about the way he kisses you, although you could hardly call it a kiss at all. It was more him putting his mouth against yours, tilting his head, and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s clear from the moment it started that he’s never been kissed before and that knowledge has you squirming in his lap. 
“Eric,” you’ve barely pulled back and he’s chasing your lips as if you’re a glass of his favorite wine. “Eric, hold on.”
“Why?” His eyes flutter open and you have to force yourself not to kiss him senseless, even if he has no idea what he’s doing.
“Just—” You inhale deeply and the scent of his cologne begins to overwhelm your senses, practically intoxicating you. “You’ve never kissed anyone before.” 
He nods, his previous embarrassment returning when you say that. “I mean…Yeah, I— I haven’t. But I—I’ve used WikiHow—”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off and choose to ignore the comment about WikiHow, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Just follow my lead.” 
When he nods, you press your lips against his again. This time, it’s more fluid. It’s easier for you to kiss him when he’s copying your movements. It’s still awkward, your teeth smacking together painfully, but you can tell he’s getting used to the feeling. You’re able to part your lips against his, to open your mouth just enough for your tongue to slip out and brush against his lower lip. His whole body jolts, his hands digging into the fabric of your skirt hard enough that your skin would be bruised the next day. His hips roll up against yours, drawing a heady moan out of you. 
When Eric parts from you, his eyes are hazy. “Did— did you like when I did that?” 
“Yes,” you groan and begin to roll your hips down into his, watching the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his back arches off the couch. 
“F-Fuck, okay,” He screws his eyes shut again, lips completely parted as the two of you begin to hump into each other like some damn animals. Your lips meld together again, and you let your tongue slither into his mouth. It’s obvious that Eric has no idea what to do with his tongue— pushing against yours aggressively, shoving it to the side, and trying to push his into your mouth— but as the minutes pass, he begins to understand what to do. He begins to understand what makes your body react positively and what has you unintentionally cringing away from him. 
Your lips part from his one more time but you hardly give him time to complain before you place a kiss on his cheek, then the corner of his jaw, and then right below his ear. He emits a nearly wild moan at this, his hips jerking up into yours in such a way that his bulge presses against your clit and punches a moan out of you. Being the quick learner that he is, Eric adjusts his position and rolls his hips up again and again and again, addicted to the way you sound and feel against him. 
“Eric,” you whine, parting from his neck. “Eric, oh my god.” 
He just huffs into your collarbone, licking and sucking and trying desperately to not cum too soon, but you just feel so good against him that he just can’t help it. 
His hips stutter against yours, and he moans so loud you fear that the neighbors hear it. You let him continue to grind into you, to work himself through his orgasm as your slips back and escapes you. It doesn’t matter, you’d get yourself when he leaves—
“You didn’t cum.” 
“What?” You blink dumbly at him, and Eric begins to pout. 
“You didn’t— you didn’t cum. You should’ve told me. I would’ve held off!” You knew that wasn’t true. He could barely hold himself together from a few kisses, what made him think he’d be able to hold himself off until you came? 
“It’s fine, Eric.” You reassure him, but he’s having none of it. You can’t stop him from lifting you off his hips and settling you against the couch cushions. Well…you probably could, but you wanted to see where this went. 
You watch as he unceremoniously yanks down your panties, not bothering with your skirt whether out of impatience or because he liked seeing you in it. 
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Eric peers up at you, a boyish smile on his face. 
“Can’t be that hard, right?” You laugh, choosing not to argue with him. You’d tell him, when it came time, where your clit is but for now? You’d let him work things out for himself. 
Your body shudders when Eric takes his first taste, licking from the bottom to the top of your pussy. You’re amazed that he didn’t accidentally go too far down like most (slightly more experienced) men have. It’s almost impressive how much attention he pays to your quivering body, and you flip your skirt up so you can see his face buried into you. Every lick draws out a moan from both of you, and you can see him starting to roll his hips down onto the couch. 
“Fuck,” his words are muffled by your cunt, and vile slurping noises accompany him. “Could get addicted to the taste of you.”
“Mm, feels good, Eric.” Your eyes flutter shut, one of your hands slipping down to tangle in his blonde strands of hair and tugging him up slightly. Your other hand taps at your clit lightly, making your body jolt a bit. “Here. This— fuck— feels good here.”
“That’s it?” He drops his head down again, swatting your hand out of the way to replace it with his own. His touch is much rougher than yours, his hands thick and calloused compared to your delicate ones. “Right here?” 
You whine for him, and he has to bite on his tongue to not cum again so fast. He’s quick to attach his mouth to your clit, sucking violently and swiping his tongue against it. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you most certainly were now. It hadn’t taken him long at all to figure out what felt good for you. Reading your mind and body was almost second nature to him, it seemed, and it became abundantly clear when your orgasm began to rise again.
“Close, Eric!” You gasped out, “I’m close!”
He groans against you, catching your hips in his hands when they begin to roll into his face. Eric wanted to drown in you. He wanted to feel you shake around him for the rest of his damn life. He wanted to hear you screaming his name until your throat was raw and your voice was gone. 
And the sight of you cumming on his face, your essence soaking his chin and dripping onto his sweatshirt? 
If he could stay glued to you for the rest of his life, he fucking would.
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Becoming a habit came easy for you and Eric. You’re not dating, but you’re unsure of whether the puppy-like boy cares or not. You discovered very quickly that he would do anything for you, would learn anything for you. You’d successfully taught him how to kiss a girl without looking like a dumbass (i.e. the straight-face-to-sudden-kiss scenario you’d faced too many times to count), how to finger you and hit all the right spots, where not to put his mouth and fingers unless explicitly told otherwise. There was, of course, your next problem.
Eric refused to put his dick in you.
You knew he was clean, both of you had gotten tested when you originally began screwing around. You knew he liked you, that much was obvious. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, he told you how much he loved you every time you gave him head. He just…never went farther than that. Was he scared? Did he not want you as bad as you (very clearly) wanted him? It made you nauseous to think about, but it was getting frustrating how all you two did was make out, grind on each other like teenagers, and give each other head every time you saw each other. Shit— he was even fine with fingering you underneath the table in your lecture the other day! 
That’s why you developed a plan. Here you were, standing outside of the Tau Beta Zeta frat house under the guise of needing to work on your project (which wasn’t necessarily a lie) but really planning on getting him to finally fuck you. Yes, you were aware of the fact that he was a virgin but it was obvious from the start that he didn’t give a shit about that.
Unless he did. Your hand pauses just inches from the door, but you shake your head to clear the anxious thought and you knock on the door. 
One, two, three…one, two three…one—
On the third round of knocks, a boy swings the door open. His eyes are wide, his hair in disarray. 
“Hi.” You wave your hand with a smile, but the boy just stands there with a dumb look on his face. Were all the TBZ boys like this? 
“…Hi?” He says it in the form of a question, which draws a laugh out of you. 
“I’m Y/N.”
“…Sunwoo…” 
“Oh, the star soccer player, right?” He nods and you grin. “I saw your last game, the one where your girlfriend— I’m assuming girlfriend— knocked some sense into you. You really killed it out there!”
“Thank you…uh…can— can I help you?” You rock back and forth on your heels, biting at your lip in thought. The idea of wearing a skirt is choosing to bite you in the ass as a cold breeze picks up. 
“I’m here for Eric, actually. Um…Eric Sohn? I think he lives here, right?” Sunwoo’s jaw drops, his head dipping down as well and he steps to the side to let you in. You smile, using your feet to pull your shoes off as you step into the entryway. You see a pile of shoes to your left, the larger men’s pairs shoved into a large pile while some smaller women’s shoes sit neatly. You can’t help but wonder if it was the girlfriends that did this or if one of the frat members cares a bit more about them than the others. 
“He’s…he’s on the second floor, third door on the left…” You thank Sunwoo, ignoring how he follows you with obvious confusion and awe. Another boy passes by you, staring in confusion but ends up in the same state as the soccer player when he explains the situation. 
You knock before you enter Eric’s room, rocking on your heels again as you wait for some sort of response. You get none, and when you go to interrupt him, the second boy stops you. 
“Hi, um, I’m Haknyeon— you can call me Hak, though— Eric’s— he’s— he’s gaming. You can just go in because there’s no way you’re gonna get his attention by— by, um— yeah.” He stumbles over his words in an almost incomprehensible way, but you get the basic idea. 
“Thanks, Hak,” you dip your head and twist the doorknob. Sunwoo and Hak both watch you enter the room, only snapping out of their daze when you shut the door tightly behind you. 
“You…you saw that too, right?” Haknyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder with a grin on his face.
“My best friend…” Sunwoo’s voice is quiet with confusion. “He’s…he’s getting bitches?”
“What did I say about saying that,” his girlfriend pops around the corner with a scowl on her face. Sunwoo’s face lights up, but it disappears at the scolding gaze she gives him.
“Sorry, baby,” he pouts and she rolls her eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Give them some damn privacy,” she clicks her tongue, eyeing the door. “Lord knows they’re probably gonna need it.”
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Eric is facing a large gaming setup when you enter the room. You can see the dark polo sweater which is partially unzipped to reveal some of his chest, the beige hat, and the khaki combo he had, unfortunately, chosen to wear today (you’re going to have to update his closet soon, whether you date him or not. You have to save the next girl he’s with). The lights, shockingly, are purple rather than the red you had expected. You can see expensive monitors and a keyboard, all of which are cleaner than any other gamer’s setup that you’d seen. In fact, his whole room is so much cleaner than you had ever given him credit for. You’d expected to see something absolutely filthy, but Eric never fails to shock you.
What doesn’t shock you, however?
Five Nights At Freddy’s playing on the screens.
You clear your throat, and he barely even spares a glance at you. You wonder if he even recognized that it was you—
“Yo, Y/N!” Oh god, this might not go as planned. “You’re early!” 
“Figured I’d come by to hang out before we got started on the paper.” You come up behind him, dropping your bag and jacket by the edge of the bed, revealing the black sheer top you’d chosen to go with your white skirt. You’d also chosen the perfume you know gets his attention the most, the one that always has him practically gluing his face to your neck. 
That doesn’t happen this time. He stays glued to his game, his legs spread wide open and tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips. 
“Feel— fuck!” His body jerks when an animatronic (Foxy, maybe?) comes out of a vent and gives him barely enough time to start protecting himself. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, I might take a while.”
You hum, not moving from your spot. Your hands are on the back of his gaming chair, your eyes focused on the screen with fake intrigue. He doesn’t acknowledge you, so you let your hands begin to sink onto his shoulders. His chin tilts toward you a bit, but he corrects himself and goes back to ignoring you even when your nails graze the skin of his collarbone. 
“What are you doing?” Eric asks, but it’s more dismissive than anything. 
“Just watching you play,” you reply with a sly grin. Another jumpscare appears, and he grunts when you intentionally dig your nails into him (something you’ve learned he loves over the past two weeks). 
Part two of your scheme begins when you sink to your knees beside Eric and slip under his desk. This grabs his attention. Eric watches as you get comfortable, no longer paying attention to the screens in front of him when you run your hands up his thighs, grazing the button of his khaki pants. 
“Y/N, this—” his breath catches in his throat when you finally undo the button and pull the zipper down. You can see his member already hardening, twitching in his boxers. “You don’t have to— I don’t— why—”
“Jus’ play your game, baby.” You purr, your fingers hooking under the band of his boxers to tug them and his pants down at the same time. His jaw is hanging open, eyes wide with awe, but you stop your movements. “Play your game, Eric, or I’m leaving.”
His response is immediate, sliding his chair closer to you and lifting his hips to let you work. Your smirk is wide, and you yank his clothing down in one go, letting them rest around his ankles. Eric’s knee begins to bounce, and you rest your hand on top of it to steady him. His member, in just a few moments, has completely hardened. You can see the slick precum beginning to leak from his tip, and you lower your mouth to catch each drop on his tongue. 
The moan he emits is loud, and you pull your mouth back just an inch to dig your nails into his thigh.
“Stay quiet and don’t cum unless I say so.” He whimpers in response, and you bring your mouth back onto him. You begin by suckling at his tip, letting your tongue swirl around him like a lollypop, and listening to his barely restrained moans. You hear clicking and tapping on his keyboard, as well as random noises from the game
You take him a little deeper and his thighs tense, but he’s good at staying quiet. He’s good even when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag around him. Even when you take him so deep that you’re choking on him and spit is dripping from your mouth and onto his skin. Even when you begin hollowing your mouth and bobbing your head, and swallowing around him a few times when you take him all the way down so your nose is against his pelvis. 
Another jumpscare and his hips jerk and force him farther down your throat. You moan around him, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, and that elicits a whine from him.
“Y/N,” he pleads. “I’ve been s-so good for yo—you right? Haven’t— Haven’t I been good? Ple—please let me cum. Jus’ wanna cum, please?” 
Eric sees you look up at him through your eyelashes, and just the sight of you slobbering all over him has his eyes rolling back in his head.
Then you pull off him completely, leaving his dick twitching and lonely against his stomach. 
“Why did— why did you pull off?” His eyes are dazed, and you flash a coy smile at him. 
“I told you to pay attention to the game, didn’t I?” 
“I— yeah, you did but— but I just— you—” Eric is tearing up as you begin to push your body out from under the desk to stand in front of him. 
“Poor baby,” you cup his cheek and your stomach churns when he leans into your palm with a sigh. “Should’ve just paid attention and beat the night, then, hm?” 
“Please,” he whines, leaving little kisses on your palm and working his way to your wrist, your forearm, your elbow, and then he’s pulling you onto his lap so you’re nearly sitting on his dick. You can feel it pulsing against your core, and you can’t help the tiny rolls of your hips to gain some sort of friction. “Please, just— I’ll…I’ll do anything you want. I’ll— I’ll eat you out, I’ll finger you, fuck, I’ll— I’ll let you sit on my face if that’s what you want.”
You hum, tapping your fingers against his chest in thought. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 
His body tenses and his cheeks begin to flush, his eyes refusing to meet yours. 
“Eric,” you say softly, moving your hand to his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Eric, talk to me.”
“I— I don’t—”
“I’m not gonna force you to do anything, Eric,” you reassure him, stopping the ministrations of your hips and bringing your free hand to the side of his neck. “I just want to know why. I want to understand. Do you— do you not want me? Do you wanna save yourself for another girl?” 
“No!” He snaps, his voice a bit harsher than he’d intended for it to come out but it has you flinching away from him. In a moment of panic, he brings his hands to your waist and tugs you closer to him. “I— sorry. It’s not— it’s not that at all.”
“Then why?” Your hands are playing with the ends of his blonde hair, and Eric swallows once. Twice. And then he tucks his head into your shoulder. 
“I…I don’t know.” 
You nod, disappointment filling you, but you don’t let it show. 
“Let’s work on the project.” You slide off his lap, ignoring the somewhat heartbroken gaze he shoots you. “The paper is due in a couple of days, so I grabbed a few sources and drafted an outline.”
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just tucks his member back into his pants and comes to join you on his bed. The air is tense and you know he wants to say something. You wait for him to say it. 
He doesn’t.
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“Eric, you’re fucking stupid.” Sunwoo throws himself onto his best friend’s bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of Eric hitting his head on his desk.
“I know…”
“I mean, we already knew this from previous incidents. Ahem, giving my then-crush-now-girlfriend a concussion. But holy shit I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse than that.”
“I know!” Eric whines, sitting heavily on the gaming chair he’d gotten head on almost four hours ago, and could have gotten laid in had he not been a damn moron.
“I mean, you’ve been trying to get laid by this chick for how long? And you cockblocked yourself because…” Sunwoo trails off, his eyebrows knitting together as he sits up. “Wait, why did you cockblock yourself?”
“I don’t know, man!” Eric huffs and leans his head back. “Fuck, she was so nice about it too. Too nice. I know damn well she’s pissed at me but she’s too fucking nice to say anything.”
“Well yeah,” Sunwoo shrugs. “Sex 101— don’t force yourself onto anyone. Hello? Why would she do that to you?”
Eric crosses his arms over his chest, using his feet to spin his chair back and forth lightly. You had been really sweet about everything. You could’ve gotten mad at him, especially since this wasn’t the first time this had happened, but you didn’t. You wanted him to be ready. 
And he was. He was so ready! He just— he gets nervous around you! What if he’s a disappointment? What if he’s so bad that you have to fake an orgasm? What if he doesn’t fit? What if he hurts you?
“Eric,” Sunwoo claps his hands together to snap Eric out of his thoughts. “Stop getting distracted while I’m trying to help you in a way that won’t lead to injuries.” 
The poor, self-cockblocked boy lifts his head with a pout. 
“There’s a party this weekend, right?” 
“Yeah…” Eric tilts his head.
“Make sure she’s there. Use whatever excuse you need to, and make sure she shows up. Then, ask her to talk. Go somewhere private, talk to her, tell her you’re ready, and then fuck until the sun comes up.” Sunwoo claps again, throwing his out to the side in a cocky I just made the best plan ever manner. “First of all, gets you laid, second of all— free revenge on Sangyeon.”
Eric drums his fingers against his legs in thought. The plan was good, he’d admit that. Of course, not out loud. No, he would never let Sunwoo know that he was right about something.
“Fine,” Eric agrees. “But if shit goes south, it’s your fault.”
“Deal,” Sunwoo grins mischievously. “And if shit goes right, you owe me and my girlfriend dinner.”
“Deal.”
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Eric doesn’t see you at all that week, something that has him nearly crying on the ground in Sangyeon’s bedroom. He’d texted you, asked if you were okay, sent you notes, told you about the party but didn’t outright invite you. Nothing. No sign of you in lectures, no texts from you aside from a confirmation that you’d submit your written portion of the midterm.
“Take a damn breath.” Sangyeon rolls his eyes and tugs a formfitting black mock-neck shirt over his head, sliding a silver chain around his neck afterward. “She’s probably busy.”
“But she never goes this long without texting me! Or being in a lecture!” The youngest member of the frat holds his head in his hands, staring down at the white buttondown shirt that hung somewhat loosely on his body. 
“Maybe she hates you, I don’t know!” Sangyeon exclaims. “Stop bothering me about it!” Eric pouts up at the TBZ president.
“But you know how to handle these things!”
“Not when you’re on my ass about it all day every day for a week straight.” Sangyeon’s lip curls and Eric huffs, laying back on the hardwood floor. “Dude, just be patient. Who knows, maybe she was sick? Maybe she’ll show up today and you’ll get laid. Just. Be. Patient.”
And patient he was. 
He lurked around the party, a drink in his hand and a ripped red baseball cap covering his head and shielding his red-rimmed eyes from the public. They didn’t need to know he’d cried over his two-year-long crush ghosting him. 
“Who pissed in your cheerios?” He turns his body slowly, ready to crack a corny joke, and walk away from whoever yelled in his ear, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. You’re in another tiny little black skirt and a black bralette that was used as a poor excuse for a shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it. He nearly crumbles in front of you, ready to worship you and the ground you walk on, ready to take you in front of all these people so they know that he’s yours.
“Oh my god.” 
You laugh at the dumbstruck look in his eyes, at the way his eyes are stuck on your chest, and the way your bralette pushes your boobs up just enough to catch attention. 
“You okay, Eric?” Your hand is on his arm, and in an instant his cup is thrown to the side and his lips are on yours, his tongue shoved into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, and, really, the suddenness of it all, but you don’t complain. You love how frantic he is for you, love how he’s ready to risk it all after just a week of not seeing you. 
When he parts from you, there’s a string of spit connecting your lips that only breaks when you swipe your thumb across his lip. 
“How’s that for a hello?” You say just loud enough for him to hear it. 
“We need to talk.”
“We do.” You confirm, but his lips are on yours again, and you’re so glad that everyone is distracted by a game of beer pong on the other side of the room. You let your eyes flutter shut, moaning into his mouth when he pushes his tongue against yours. They dance together, swirling around each other but not fighting for dominance. No, this kiss isn’t about that. This is two people being addicted to the taste of each other, two people who could never get enough of what the other has to offer. 
You have to force yourself to part from him, turning away so you can find somewhere more private— preferably his bedroom. He doesn’t stray from you, gluing his lips to the side of your neck as you try to weave through the crowd. It’s not easy, especially with Eric on you and refusing to let go, but you don’t mind. 
Not when he shoves you against his dresser as soon as his bedroom door is shut and locked. 
The handles of the drawers dig against your spine, but you’re too distracted by Eric’s lips on your chest to care. His hat is missing, likely somewhere on the staircase. Your jacket has been thrown to the opposite side of the room, the straps of your bralette shoved down and both breasts freed from its confines so Eric can lick and suck and bite at the soft mounds. 
“Eric,” you moan out, arching your back into his hunched form. He groans against you, sucking hard at your nipple and eliciting a loud moan from you. “Eric, pick me up.” 
Without even pulling away, he does, plopping you unceremoniously onto his dresser and moving his lips to the other breast, replacing his mouth with his hand. Your hand comes to the back of his head, and you find yourself smiling at the desperation your lover shows. 
“Missed me that much, huh?” Your composure is crumbling, but you don’t care. “Might have to disappear more often.”
He rips away from your chest, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don’t even joke about that. I thought you died.”
You kiss him again, both hands holding his face to yours, and your legs wrap around his waist. Eric’s hands find your thighs and he lifts you off the dresser. He sucks on your tongue, biting on your lip when you start to pull away and you whimper at the sting of pain. 
“Thought I died, hm?” You brush back the blonde strands of hair covering his sweaty forehead and smirk. “It’s a good thing I didn’t then, hm? What would you have done? Fucked your fist for the rest of your life?” 
A muscle in his jaw feathers and he throws you down on his bed. You yelp, eyes widening at the personality change. A week ago, he would’ve been begging you for any touch, would’ve been falling apart just for one look at your dripping pussy. But now?
Now he looks like a starved animal, and you’re the first helpless creature he’s seen in weeks. 
“Eric,” you warn, watching him unbutton his shirt. “Remember what I said.” 
He eyes you, smirking at the way your jaw drops when his shirt hits the floor. It’s odd, isn’t it? You’d probably been bare in front of him countless times but you’d hardly seen him with his pants down.
“Holy fuck.” You stare at his torso, at the chiseled abs and biceps, at the veins in his arms, at the trail of hair leading down to his dick. “You’re— you’re fucking shredded.”
“Shredded?” He quirks an eyebrow, undoing his belt and the button of his pants so he can push them down and kick them to the side. “That’s the first word you thought of?”
“Well—” you clear your throat and turn your gaze away from him. “I mean— you are.”
“Cute,” He coos and crawls over you, hooking his fingers into the hem of your skirt. “May I?”
“You may,” you look at him again, then down his body and swallow hard at the sight of him. You’ve seen him many times. You’ve held him in your hand, in your mouth. You know what to expect.
So why does it make you so nervous now?
“You’re getting distracted,” Eric kisses his teeth, lowering his face to yours but not kissing you. He traces his nose across your cheek, light kisses from his lips going with it. His nose nudges against your jaw, urging you to tilt your jaw up so he can kiss you there. You do, and his lips feel like fire against your skin. “I thought you liked it when people pay attention?”
“I— I do!” You gasp out, and Eric laughs against your skin. Where the fuck is all this confidence coming from? 
“Then why aren’t you paying attention to me?” His fingers press against your sopping-wet entrance and you lift your hips in a weak attempt to get them inside of you. 
“I am!” Tears are welling in your eyes. “I am paying attention to you, Eric, please!”
He juts out his lip in a mocking pout, using the hand that’s not against your heat to wipe the tears away. 
“Okay baby,” he says softly, sinking two thick, calloused fingers into you. “Don’t cry, not yet.” 
The intrusion has you crying out and Eric does his best to hush you, to soothe you, and then he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. Your fingers cling to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and shift with every movement of his arm. Eric grins when your eyes finally flutter shut, when you finally give in to him. He praises you when he slips a third finger into your core, and then a fourth. He praises you as he works you through the sting, curling his fingers gently to search for the spot he knows would have you falling to pieces under him. 
Eric finds it easily and is oh so pleased by your wail of his name. He grins almost maliciously, when you begin to shake, when your body begins to thrash, and your nails dig into his shoulders and drag down his back. 
“Always so easy for me,” he hums, staring in awe at the wrinkle between your eyebrows and how your tongue practically hangs out of your mouth. When he knows you’re about to cum, he crushes his lips against yours again and begins to move his hand faster. You’re sobbing into his mouth, unable to kiss him back between your cries and moans, but Eric doesn’t mind. 
He lets you grind against his hand until you’re not shaking anymore. Then, and only then, does he pull his fingers out of you, watching with curious satisfaction as your cum drips from his fingers and onto the blanket below you. 
“Don’t— don’t sit there staring at that shit.” you hiss, but Eric just smiles. 
“So you can speak coherently now?” 
“Shut up and fuck me already, or do you need me to teach you how to do that too?” 
Eric’s gaze hardens, his tongue pushing against his cheek. You push yourself to sit up, but Eric pushes you right back down and uses his hands to push your legs apart. 
“I don’t need you to teach me anything,” he grunts, lining his member up with your entrance. 
“Really? That’s not what it looked like three weeks ag—oh fuck!” Your back arches off the bed when he suddenly sinks into you. Four fingers seem to have been just barely enough, the sting fading just as fast as it came. Or maybe you just like the pain so much it turned into pleasure. Whatever the reason, you’re quick to tell Eric to pick up the pace. 
You’re both shocked and impressed by the movement of his hips. He alternates between smooth, sharp rolls and harsh, pointed thrusts that have your body forced up the bed and the headboard knocking against the wall.
“You think I need your help?” Eric growls, digging his hands into your thighs and spreading them farther apart, lifting the lower half of your body a bit to change the angle. This brings a new pleasure to both of you. Something that you’ve never felt before, and has your mind reeling. “I didn’t need you. I wanted you. I wanted every part of you. I craved you, craved your taste. It was pure fucking luck that you wanted me too.”
“Eric,” You gasp out, sinking your teeth into the side of his neck to leave another mark on his skin. “Eric, feels so good, god it feels so good please, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, oh my god!”
“Look at you,” he yanks your head out of his neck by your hair, staring down at your fucked out face as he continues to plow into you with no remorse. “All fucked out for me. I did this. Your little virgin boy. Isn’t it embarrassing?” 
You whine in response but apparently, that isn’t what he’s looking for because he slows down at your lack of response. 
“Answer me,” he hisses.
“I— I don’t— Eric I don’t—” You don’t even know what he’s trying to ask. You stopped listening as soon as he pulled your hair, the sting of it feeling too good. Eric laughs, picking up his pace again and dropping your head back down onto his pillows. 
“What? Too fucked out to answer me? Who would’ve thought that I was the virgin and not you? What would people think if they walked in here and saw me fucking you like this?” He doesn’t expect an answer this time, not that you’d be able to give him one anyway. 
Your legs draw tightly around his slim waist, holding him close as your orgasm approaches again, but Eric doesn’t seem to be even close to cumming. Even when your second orgasm washes over you, and then your third. He fucks you through each one, sweat dripping from his hair and down his torso until his body is sliding against yours. Your body feels numb, but at the same time, you can feel everything. Every drag of his length against your walls, every punch of his tip against your cervix. Your arms curl around his neck, but your grip is loose. 
When Eric’s hips finally begin to stutter, you’re about four orgasms in, the fifth about to wash over you. Your voice is hoarse, a puddle of drool on the pillow under your head. You can’t find it in you to make any more noise, just gasping breathes and quiet whines. You cum together, and the feeling of his cum filling you has your back arching again. This time, Eric catches you and holds your body against his. He kisses you gently, uncaring that you can barely breathe let alone kiss him. 
“That— that was a good talk,” he jokes, and you say nothing at first. “Um…are— are you okay?” 
“You just—” you clear your throat, but it does nothing. “You just fucked me within an inch of my life, as a completely inexperienced virgin, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 
Eric frowns, settling down on top of you, but careful not to lay his full weight onto your obviously aching body. He can see the bruises he’d left all over you— on your chest, your neck, your hips. Anywhere his lips or hands touched, there was a bruise left in his wake. He imagines, however, that he looks no different. He can feel the scratches you left on his back, marring every inch of his skin and likely drawing a bit of blood, he can see a hickey on his arm that you left at some point and can imagine how the front of his body looks.
“So…so you’re not okay?” He tries and you huff, throwing an arm over your eyes. 
“Eric, I love you, but you’re such a dumbass.” You groan, shoving him off your body so you can breathe properly. “Go draw a bath. I’m gonna need one after that shit.”
“Before I do, can you answer one question?” You pry your eyes open to scowl at him and his damn puppy-like eyes. 
“What?” 
“Are we— are we dating now?” 
“We won’t be for long if you don’t get that fucking bath going.” 
“Aw, yeah!” Eric cheers, jumping off the bed and running to the bathroom to start the bath like you asked. “Guess who isn’t single anymore, Sunwoo!”
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“What’s your problem?” Haknyeon peers at Sangyeon over the lip of his mug. The frat president is glaring at you and Eric with something murderous in his eyes, which seem to have dark bags under them.
“My bedroom is right next to Eric’s.” Haknyeon raises an eyebrow, and Sangyeon clears his throat. “My bedroom is next to Eric’s.”
“Okay…oh. OH. Oh, shit man, I’m sorry.” Haknyeon turns his gaze to the two of you, grimacing at the thought of how long Sangyeon could have been kept up, but smiling when he sees how the two of you are cuddled on the couch. The grimace returns when he sees the state of your necks, neither of you having bothered to hide what you did to each other. 
“I mean,” Sunwoo sits on the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hand. “You kinda deserved it after what you did to him.”
“What the fuck— what did I do to him?” Sangyeon exclaims, and Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow. 
“You fucked your girlfriend for, what, seven rounds straight? The poor man didn’t get any sleep that night. Be glad you were able to rest after that.”
Haknyeon raises his cup, and the three frat boys return to “subtly” watching the two of you.
“Do you at least know if he was good? You know, for a virgin.”
“Oh my fucking god, Sunwoo, shut up.”
“You shut up, Hak! It was just a question!”
“You two are fucking nasty,” Sangyeon’s lip curls into a sneer, trying to block out the memories of last night. “But I’m gonna need a shit ton of bleach if I wanna forget that bullshit.”
“Hot.”
“Sunwoo, shut UP!”
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© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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Text
Simon From The Wiggles
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader
Word Count: 632
Warnings: dad!simon, mom!reader, simon's first born son being named tommy after his brother, fluff
Summary: Coming home after a mission to his favourite people in the world, Simon experiences one of the best moments of his life.
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(this is the guy being spoken about)
Simon had been off on a mission for a month or so, practically crawling to get back to you and your son, Tommy. The little bugger had just surpassed 10 months and he had began babbling. He was the most adorable thing and you both loved him to death. He was the light in the dark for Simon, much like you were the sun to his rain. 
When he finally did step back into your home, he immediately heard giggles coming from the living room. Tommy’s sweet little giggles. His babbling too, echoing throughout your house. He stripped off his gear, leaving everything by the door, including his mask. Simon stepped into the living room in just his compression shirt and tactical pants, smiling at the sight of you sitting on the ground, holding Tommy on your lap. 
The little boy’s eyes light up at the sight of his father, kicking his legs to get to him. Poor guy still doesn’t understand how walking works. Simon smiles, bending down to take the boy into his arms, tossing him up into the air and catching him again like a ball, just how he likes. 
You stand up, pressing a kiss to Simon’s cheek, smiling. “Hi honey, welcome home.”
He grins, “Hi lovie. You both have fun withou’ me?”
“Lots,” you nod at Tommy, nudging him with your nose. “Ain’t that right, bubba?”
The little boy giggles and fills the house with his little babbles. The sight makes Simon’s heart flutter. 
“Why don’t you two sit down, huh? I’m gonna go get started on dinner,” you kiss Tommy’s temple and Simon’s cheek. 
You head into the kitchen, preparing dinner. 
Simon sits down with Tommy, placing the little boy on his lap as he turns the tv volume back up. 
There’s these 3 guys, in different coloured shirts–blue, purple, and red–singing, with a girl in a yellow dress, bow in her hair. They look Simon’s age. He chuckles. Tommy’s face lights up, squealing.
“Mi-mom!” The boy babbles. 
Simon blinks. He does a double take. “What you sayin’, bubby?”
The boy giggles, still staring at the screen. He claps his hands, “Mi-mon!” 
It’s more audible this time too. But Simon still hears what he heard before.
“Lovie! He said i’! He said his firs’ word! My name! Lovie!” he shouts. 
You poke your head back into the living room. “Really?”
“Yeah! Say it agai’, bubby! Come on!” Simon’s voice is filled with excitement.
“Mi-mon! Mi-mon! Mi-mon!” Tommy claps and giggles at the top of his lungs. 
“Damn it, bubby. You ruined the surprise,” you shake your head. 
Simon furrows his brows in confusion. Why aren’t you excited like he is? Your first child just said his first word!
“Whadya mean, lovie? ‘his is amazin’!” Simon tosses his baby boy into the air. “My name!” 
“He wasn’t referring to you, Si,” you bite your lip to hold back a giggle. “One of his favourite characters in that show is called Simon…he said his name 2 days ago…I was going to surprise you.”
“What? What show?” Simon remains confused. 
“Simon…from…the wiggles…”
“‘M sorry, lovie, what the fuck did you jus’ say?” 
“The red guy on the tv, that’s him…” 
“The old guy? Tommy loves ‘im?” 
“Mhm.” 
The little boy in question is kicking to get back to the tv. 
“I’m sorry, honey…I know you were super excited and you should still be! His first word was Simon! We can tell people it was for you!” 
“Lil bugger,” Simon nudges his son. “Say it again.”
The boy giggles, not yet understanding his father. 
“Si, it’s a good thing, right?” you smile. 
“‘Course, lovie, he’s gonna be talkin’ soon, and he’ll be able to say daddy,” Simon tickles the boy. “Ain’t that right, Mi-mon?” 
Tommy’s eyes light up. “Mi-mon!” 
558 notes · View notes
kisses4lao · 10 months
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Guess who's suffering from writers block!!! No but fr I wanna write SO BAD but I just can't 😭😭 so take some twst pp hcs until I decide to work on commissions again
Not proofread idc shank me
♧CW!!! Fem reader! twst dick hcs duh, every NRC student EXCLUDING ortho, might have some other hcs too
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Riddle:
Its... cute? Idk how to explain it
He is VERY sensitive
5.5 inches
Slight curve downward
The tip is a really deep red
Cum is watery, tastes like rosewater(this is a fantasy world i can make cum taste like anything i want)
Balls aren't all that heavy, very soft and squishy tho
Likes rimming. No further comments
Trey:
EEK MY BOY
I'm gonna try not to be biased
Hes BIG tho
I know you've seen him. Let's be honest, we all know he's PACKING
So I'm gonna say a solid 7-8 inches with a nice amount of girth
No curve, but very veiny
Heavy balls. Like, HEAVY. Bros got a whole bakery in there
Soft pink tip
Cum is the normal consistency, he takes care of himself
If you're sucking him off he'll change the flavor of his cock and his cum to whatever you want (thank god for doodle suit)
Cater:
Easy 7 inches
Not too sensitive, it takes a while for him to cum
His cum is pretty thick, its all the spicy ramen he eats
Curve upward, huge thick vein going from his balls to the tip
Cum tastes salty, but not overwhelming
Will have his clones fuck you silly
Deuce:
Another small boy
I'll say 6 inches, no curve
Hes sensitive too, but not as much as riddle
He really like getting his balls sucked more than his cock itself
Cum is watery too, but it tastes good
Like sweet in a way
Tip is a light blue dont ask why
Ace:
Another small boy 😭
He is CLUELESS
Poor man is a one pump chump
5.6 inches, curve to the left
SENSETIVE. pussy got this boy on his knees
Balls squishy, balls soft?
Yes to both
His rip is red, like a blush red
Azul:
A good 6ish inches with a curve downward
Not as sensitive as you may think
I think it would be funny if the bottom of his cock had like little suckers or some shit
Tip is dark purple and he has some veins, not many tho
Heavy balls, no squish :(
Cum is thick and black bc octopus
Tastes like what watered down hand sanitizer smells like
Jade:
😨
Its slimy.
No further comment on that
No but its like wet, a lot
So is floyds but we aren't there yet
Its like lube 🥺
Okay but he's LONG
8.5 AT LEAST
He also enjoys rimming
Tip is dark cyan
Cum is slimy too
Add some borax water and sell it on etsy
Floyd:
Basically the same as Jade
Hes smaller tho
Hes 6 inches but has SO much girth
His cum is more watery than slimy and the tip is a light blue
Lots of veins too
Kalim:
6 inches
So sensitive
He begs.
Loves blow jobs but would NEVER ask for them
Heavy soft balls
A dark brown tip and there's lil red swirlies
Cum is thick
Tastes like coconut toothpaste
Jamil:
mmmmmmmmMMMMMMM
BIG
So big
Destroy me PLEASE
7.8 inches and a big curve upwards
Likes fingers in his ass, just like Kanye west
Doesn't like blow jobs he cums too quick :(
Gets overstimulated easily and when he does hes highly submissive
Cum a lil thick (its all the curry he eats)
Its yummy tho
Tastes salty and a lil sweet
Like a pretzel
Tip is a redish-brownish
Vil:
Hes a very odd case
Hes big, dont get me wrong
But mans does NOT have sex 😭
He complains it ruins his makeup
7.4 inches with a few veins
Oh yeah hes unclipped too idk why but he is
Tip is a pinky purple color
Balls got some weight, they're not sensitive
Rook:
Hes an even weirder case
Hes very big but almost NEVER penetrates you
Hed much rather be in between your legs for hours on end
Making you cum on his face gives him so much pleasure
He doesn't touch himself either
When he's eating you out he has one hand thrusting fingers into your pussy, the other hand thrusting fingers into your ass(hes an ass man I know he is) while he sucks on your clit the whole time
He cums on the sheets whenever you do bc he knows how good you feel
Hes 8.5 inches with a curve down, large vein going upward
A creme colored tip
Cum normal consistency, you don't know what it tastes like because he never let's you suck him off :(
Epel:
Small boy
Whimpers
A lot
Hes 6 inches with a curve to the left
Light purple tip bc I said so
Light balls, but no squish :(
Cum is watery and tastes like lavender oil
Idia:
Oh god
Contrary to popular belief he has a lot of stamina
He doesn't have ANY experience tho
Played a lot of hentai games but thats the extent of his experience
I think it would be really funny if instead of whispering dirty talk or praise during sex he tells you the fnaf lore
Like he'll be blowing your back out and he'll just be like "so the crying child was actually william aftons son-" and then he cums
After hes done and doing aftercare he'll quiz you on the fnaf lore
If you get any of the questions wrong he'll fuck you until you can't walk as a punishment
If you get them all right he'll eat you out for hours until you also can't walk
Win win honestly
8 inches
TIP IS BLUUUEEEEEE
Cum is thick and salty, he doesn't take care of himself
Heavy, HEAVY balls. Very sensitive
He loves blow jobs too
Leona:
8.8 inches, but if we're being real to how ACTUAL lion anatomy is hes closer to 3 inches but yall aren't ready for that convo
Not sensitive at all, it takes so long for him to cum
But when he does hes so sweet, whispering praise after praise to you and lots of kisses
Cum is normal consistency, a lil on the thicker end
Its a bit bitter with a sweet aftertaste
Hes also unclipped and I will not elaborate
Idk if lions have them but if they do then he has a knot, not as big as jacks tho
Heavy balls, they're sensitive
Brown tip, like, dark brown tip
Ruggie:
7ish inches with a curve down
Also likes eating you out
Doesn't like having his balls touched
They're cute and squishy tho
Cum is also thick and doesn't taste like anything
Tip is a light brown and has a vein going through it
Jack:
8 inches.
Has a huge knot. Physically cannot pull out when it comes to it
Cum tastes like strawberries
Doesn't let you suck him off often bc he doesn't wanna knot in your mouth
Also gets pleasure from eating you out
Tip is grey and sensitive
Malleus:
Hes also like rook in the way he'd eat you out for hours if you'd let him
But he does penetrate you
Our big dragon boy loves the feeling of being inside your tight cunt
Will probably cum if you praise him
He has 2.
One on top one on the bottom
The one on top is longer, 9 inches while the one on the bottom is 7ish, the bottom one is a lot thicker tho
He'll be so slow easing them in and almost never goes fast when it comes to sex
He sees it as love making
They both have a black tip and the cum is normal consistency, tastes like... eggs? Hardboiled don't ask
Oh yeah his cum glows in the dark
Lilia:
Idc what you guys say this man is SO EXPERIENCED
He knows how to have sex properly and can make you cum in seconds if he feels like it
7 inches, his dick is where all his height went
Because he's so experienced he doesn't cum easily
PINK TIP PINK TIP
His cum is normal consistency, a little watery maybe
Tastes like citrus
Silver:
Loves when you ride him
Likes missionary too tho
7 inches too
His tip is grey
Very sensitive and gets overstimulated easily
Hes also just very submissive in general
Cum is watery and tastes like what a new car smells like
Sebek:
LOUD
SO LOUD
CANT TAKE THIS BITCH ANYWHERE
Cries during sex
Loves when you pull his hair
Does he have horns? If he does they're very sensitive
Cums if you touch them
Hes a crocodile right
Nah he has horns
8 inches no other comments
GREEN TIP
Cum is thick and bitter
We love him tho
Balls squishy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/n: im so fuckibg tired god help me
2K notes · View notes
drudyslut · 2 months
Text
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— summary: you and jj have some late night fun on the beach.
— warnings: smut! 18+ soft!jj, public sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting, creampie, overstimulation, lots of praise, unprotected sex.
— note: this. gif… it has me feral as fuck. also, sex on the beach just screams jj vibes and i need it so badly :((
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❥ sex on the beach — j.m
“jj-” you try and protest, but his lips are on yours again, silencing your pleas to ‘just go home’ and continue this.
a large hand runs up your side and to your shoulder, slowly pushing your back into the sand while his other hand is toying with the strings of your bikini bottoms.
his lips on yours have your brain short circuiting, almost forgetting that you’re in public, but the sound of the ocean waves crashing into the shore snap you back into reality.
you firmly press your palm to his chest, pushing him back, his lips red and swollen as he gives you a soft look, “what’s wrong baby?”
“i- shouldn’t we go home, j? i mean.. anyone can see us out here..”
jj sits himself on his knees, glancing around the dark, empty beach before his eyes find yours once more, “no one will see us princess, promise. this’ll be fun, c’mon..”
you bring your bottom lip between your teeth, glancing around the beach as well— not a soul in sight besides you and jj. this could be fun, you didn’t know why you were so worried, jj would never put you in a bad situation either.
you sigh, “you’re right, it’ll be fun. ‘m sorry, i just get nervous… we’ve never had sex in public before..”
“‘s okay sweet girl, but don’t worry, just clear your mind, let me help you forget your worries, yeah?”
before you can even mutter out a response jj has his mouth on yours again, leaving soft, slow kisses. a small moan falls from your lips when he works his way down your jaw and onto your neck, his swollen lips wrapping around the sensitive skin to suck in a deep, purple bruise.
“j, please”
he pulls his lips from your neck, sitting on his knees again and gazing down at you, “please what baby? tell me what you need”
you prop yourself up on your elbows, big doe eyes burning into his face, “need to feel you.. please”
jj chuckles softly, his head rolling to the side in amusement.
“mhm, gonna need to be more specific baby. don’t be shy”
“your mouth, your cock. i need all of it j”
a wide grin takes over his face, the moonlight illuminating his beautiful features, making his bright blue eyes sparkle, “s’all you needed to say baby”
he places his hands on your thighs, running his fingertips up and down the length of your smooth skin before he finds the strings that tied your bikini bottoms together. he slowly pulls at the strings, the perfectly tied knots on either side of your hips coming loose, bikini bottoms now barely covering your arousal slick cunt.
“lift up baby” jj says softly, and you obey, lifting your ass up slightly so he could pull the flimsy fabric from under you.
he wastes no time spreading your legs apart and dropping onto his stomach. a shudder runs down your spine when you feel his hot breath against your sopping core.
your hands fly into his hair, tugging softly at his messy blond locks, your hips bucking forward, chasing the friction you desperately craved.
jj glances up at you from between your legs, his tongue running across his bottom lip before he dips his head down, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. you throw your head back into the sand, eyes squeezed shut as your fingertips dug further into his hair.
he repeats his actions a few more times before he finally wraps his plump lips around your clit, sucking at it softly. he releases your clit from his mouth with a soft pop, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud a few times, pulling soft whines from your lips.
jj begins prodding at your entrance with his tongue, pushing it in slowly before quickly pulling it back out. you squirm beneath him, clenching around air as you try and chase your high.
he drags his tongue through your slick, lips sucking at your puffy clit as he takes two of his fingers and begins sliding them through your folds. he slowly pushes his middle finger inside you, making you clamp down around the digit tightly as he slowly and sensually thrusts his finger before adding another.
your fingers tug at his hair, pushing his face further into your cunt as your orgasm begins to grow closer. you’re a whimpering mess, soft, sweet moans emitting from you, “j- fuck— ‘m so close, j!”
he quickens his fingers, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the waves crashing behind you filling the silent air. you feel the band tighten, your toes curling into the sand beneath you, hips rolling to meet each thrust of jj’s fingers, his mouth never letting up its assault on your sensitive clit.
the band finally snaps, your arms falling limp by your sides, fingers grasping onto the sand for dear life as your legs shake, your orgasm gushing from you and soaking jj’s face.
he helps you ride out you your high, not once faltering the movements of his fingers or the harsh sucking on your clit. you try and squeeze your legs closed, but jj’s strong hand finds your thigh, pushing it back to the side and firmly pressing it into the ground.
you begin to loudly whine, overstimulated and exhausted, “jj, please! s’too much!”
jj hums against your cunt, the vibrations making your hips buck forward, tears pricking at your eyes as you tried to weakly push him back. it was useless to try and push him away, he was much stronger than you, and the grip he had on your thigh was keeping your legs spread wide for him. his fingers begin to slow in pace, curving slightly as he begins hitting at your gspot again, trying to pull another orgasm from you.
you feel your belly tightening again, another orgasm ready to burst free, causing tears to uncontrollably stream down your face.
“ah ah, jj— shit!” you moan loudly, head pressed firmly into the ground, lip brought harshly between your teeth as your second orgasm quickly rushes from you.
jj pulls his head from between your legs, his face covered in your arousal. he smirks down at your limp body, his eyes intently watching as your chest heaves up and down, legs still shaking as you try and bring them together.
he crawls on top of you, his arms on either side of your body. he dips his head down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss and slipping his tongue inside your mouth, letting you taste yourself.
“did so good f’me baby, so good. you feel okay sweetheart?”
you weakly mutter out a “mhm”, too exhausted to try and form a full sentence.
jj nods his head, lowering his body onto yours. your eyes fly open when you feel his hard on pressing against your bare cunt through his swim trunks, “got one more in ya pretty girl? jus’ one more, and then i’ll take you home and take care of ya, sound good?”
you snake your arms around his waist, pushing his front further into you, a soft whine falling from your lips when his hard cock pressed against your overly sensitive clit, “wanna feel you, j. need to feel you”
jj smiles excitedly, pushing himself up and onto his feet. you watch him in awe as he strips himself of his swim trunks, his long, thick cock springing free and making saliva pool in your mouth. you’d always found jj attractive, obviously he was your boyfriend, but something about the way the moonlight was shining down on him, illuminating his beautiful body, made him look even more deliciously beautiful.
he drops himself to his knees, his hands finding the sand as he puts himself in push up position. he crawls his way toward you slowly, caging your body into the ground, his lips on yours in an instant.
you moan into his mouth, a smirk playing at his lips from how desperate you were for him, “gonna make you feel real good baby”
he takes one hand, grasping his cock and slowly pumping himself a few times before he runs his swollen head through your slick folds. a soft gasp falls past your lips when he slowly pushes the head in, quickly pulling it back out and repeating his actions a few times.
you’re about to complain, beg him to fuck you, but your words die, a loud shout of his name emitting from you when he sinks himself inside of you without warning, filling you to the hilt.
“oh shit! jj!”
he slowly rolls his hips into yours, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting at your sweet spot with each push and pull. your hands fly around his neck, fingernails digging into his shoulders and leaving half crescent moons on his skin. you scratch your nails down his back, the sounds of your loud moans drowning out the waves crashing into the shore.
still sensitive from the last two orgasms jj had awarded you, you could already feel your third brewing, your velvety inner walls clenching tightly around his cock, sucking him in deeper.
“gonna cum f’me already princess? we jus’ barely started” jj mocked teasingly.
he hisses when your fingernails dig further into his back, breaking the skin, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum if you keep squeezin’ on me so tight, want me to cum inside you sweet girl?”
you manage to breathe out an “mhm”, your eyes squeezed shut as you focus on your impending orgasm.
jj tuts, stilling his hips, his dick buried deep inside you as he gazes down at you, “words baby, want my cum inside this pretty lil’ pussy, hmm?”
a whimper leaves your lips at his lack of movement, “yes, p-please j. want your cum inside”
he smiles, his hips snapping harshly into yours once more, “atta girl, s’all i needed to hear”
low and raspy groans fill your ears, jj’s thrusts growing sloppier letting you know his own orgasm was nearing. he snakes his hands under your waist, large, calloused hands cupping at your ass before he quickly flips the two of you, putting you on top.
you throw your head back, arms flying behind you to steady yourself as you rolled your hips around his cock, giving him a perfect view of where the two of you connected.
“shit, your pussy looks so good with my cock buried inside it, could stay like this forever, shit!”
jj lays one hand behind his head, watching intently as you continued to slowly fuck yourself onto his cock. his free hand makes its way to your clit, rubbing sloppy circles around your overly sensitive bud.
strings of curses and groans fall from you and jj, your orgasms threatening to burst from you. jj removes his fingers from your clit, wrapping it around your waist and pulling you forward, your head buried in the crook of his neck as he begins to harshly fuck up into you.
“jj! j- shit, ‘m cumming j!”
“go on baby, ‘m right behind you!”
a few more harsh snaps of his hips has you tumbling over the edge, your third orgasm gushing from you and soaking jj’s cock and pelvis.
you feel his cock twitch inside you, a string of “fucks” falling past his lips as the hot, white ropes of his cum spill inside you.
he thrusts his cum deep into your cunt, his hand falling from your waist and to his sides as he tried to steady his breathing.
you roll yourself off of him, laying in the sand beside his sweaty, worn out body, “thank you, that was fun” you say sweetly, placing a soft kiss to his cheek.
rolls his head to the side, “told ya, you can bet your sweet ass we’re doing this more often”
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suppose-i-was-worm · 11 months
Text
Iceberg Siren pt 1
**based on a prompt by @purple-goo-writes about Danny getting a job as a club singer for Penguin- I hope y'all like it!**
Oswald Cobblepot watched as his lounge’s newest acquisition crooned on stage, the crowd transfixed by the young man’s stunning voice. The Penguin was beginning to notice that the Iceberg’s profits went up by twenty percent every night this particular new hire was singing, and he had plans to promote the kid. Daniel Nightingale lived up to his name.
He’d stumbled into the young man in an alley, starving and beaten, and offered him a cleaning job. Daniel had taken him up on it, after his sharp blue eyes searched Oswald’s face like he could see his very soul. One of his bartenders had heard the young man singing while he worked a few weeks in, and soon enough, Daniel was the Iceberg’s crowning glory, even if he didn’t know it himself.
Oswald would make sure the young man knew how valuable he was to the Penguin and never left.
Danny gave a short bow to the crowd after his last song, and they all made noises of disappointment as he slipped off the stage through the door in the back. It had been several months since he’d started singing at the Iceberg, and he was thriving. Penguin had started paying him more for less work- Two nights a week he sang, enchanting the denizens of Gotham’s underworld.
It was probably cheating, that he was using some ghostly tricks picked up from Ember, but it’s not like the GIW existed in this universe to track him down.
“Siren! Boss wants you in the VIP lounge before you take off.”
Matt, his security detail, was waiting for him outside his dressing room.
“Sure! Walk me up?”
Danny winked at Matt, who just rolled his eyes.
“Happily married, Siren. Let’s go.”
With a laugh, Danny turned to head up the back steps to the VIP area, swinging his hips a little to make Matt sigh in exasperation.
He wasn’t truly interested in Matt- nor anyone else he’d met in the dimension, but as he began to be fed on a regular basis and filled out more, he found that people thought he was attractive, and he enjoyed the attention. It was far different from being reviled as a nerd or even as the local menace. The attention of people who wanted him felt easier to control even than the attention he received from the ghosts as their king.
The door to the VIP balcony swung open as he approached, and he was waved through. Plastering a sultry smile on his face, he slunk through the tables, winking at patrons as he made his way to his boss.
The Penguin was sitting in a comfortable chair on a raised dais, across the table from a man Danny hadn’t seen in the Iceberg before. The stranger was wearing a domino mask, and had a streak of white through otherwise black hair.
“Thank you for coming, Siren. Please, sit!”
An attendant melted out of the shadows with a third chair, placed beside the bossman. Danny smiled gratefully at the attendant and settled into the chair.
He wasn’t sure what Penguin wanted- sometimes he called Danny up just to show him off in his glittering dress that clung to his skin, and sometimes he called Danny up to read whether a person was trustworthy or not.
“Siren, Mr. Hood here was suggesting a possible business deal- why don’t you hear him out and tell me what you think?”
Ah, reading. Danny could do that.
“I don’t have time for nonsense, Cobblepot.”
The man’s growl raised goosebumps on Danny’s arms, and he had to take a moment to collect himself. Damned if that wasn’t sexy as hell.
“Oh, but Mister Hood, I’d love to hear about your business proposal! What my employer does with his money affects us too, you know- if the business proposal falls through….” Danny batted his eyelashes at the man. “I’m sure you know what happens to the bottom line.”
Red Hood sighed, and then began to explain himself.
Danny didn’t listen to the actual proposal more than he needed to make the appropriate noises. Instead he listened to the tone and cadence of the crime lord’s voice, the way his body moved as he spoke. Everything screamed sincerity, even the small, half-formed core pulsing in the man.
Wait. Hold up. Turn around, go back. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. A core? Here? In someone so clearly still living?
He would have to investigate, but later. His employer was beginning to look to him for a verdict.
“Wow! That sure does sound interesting,” simpering, Danny stood and wrapped an arm around Penguin’s shoulders. “I think you should hear him out, boss- he seems pretty up-and-up to me!”
Penguin smiled sharply up at him and then waved him away.
Danny could feel the stranger’s eyes on him as he left, swaying back to where Matt was waiting at the door.
~~
Look. Danny didn’t intend to get into this situation on his day off, but things just happened to him that didn’t happen to other people. Sam and Tucker would call it the “Fenton Luck”.
Danny didn’t think luck was involved at all.
If luck had been involved, the weird clown wouldn’t have attacked him with a crowbar. If luck had been involved, Danny wouldn’t have responded like he would with a ghost. If. Luck. Had. Been. Involved, the clown would not have flown back into a brick wall and then slumped like a marionette with it’s strings cut.
Stepping forward, Danny leaned down to check his victim’s pulse, but reeled back when he got a good look at the man’s face.
The Joker’s sightless eyes stared back up at him.
Ancients.
“Whatcha got there, sweet thing?”
Luck had nothing to do with anything in Danny’s life, ever. He was cursed somehow, that had to be it.
“A bagel?”
Harley Quinn hopped off the roof and came to investigate Danny’s dead body.
“Sure looks to me like an ex-boyfriend of mine, and not at all bagel shaped. You didn’t even leave a hole in him!”
“I’m…. Sorry?”
Harley grinned up at him, all teeth and a fierce light in her eyes.
“No need, sugar, you did a good thing. What I wonder is why the gas hasn’t triggered?”
Danny laughed nervously- he couldn’t help it, his fear response was laughter!
“Gas?”
“Mhmm! Had his body rigged, the bastard. Joker gas should have spread for six blocks or more when his vitals stopped.”
“Oh. I- you won’t tell the bats, will you?”
“My lips are sealed! I don’t owe Batsy anything!”
With a sigh, Danny shrugged.
“I’m a meta. Joker gas preys on fear, and so do I. The gas must have triggered, but I’m close enough that I filtered it pretty fast.”
Harley put her hands on her hips.
“Batsy doesn’t like metas much.”
“The Bat can suck it.”
She laughed and slung an arm over his shoulder.
“I like you, kid! Let me call my body disposal squad.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Ten minutes later, Poison Ivy and the Red Hood walked into the alley, looking around cautiously. Harley had talked Danny into braiding her hair, and was chatting amiably at Danny.
“-And that’s why Bill owes me a trip to Cabo. I don’t plan to collect, though, he’s just a henchman. Ives! Thanks for coming!”
Red Hood put his hands on his hips.
“I get why you called her, Harley, but why me?”
Harley tilted her head, pulling her hair out of Danny’s hands carelessly.
“You deserve to see him before he disappears, kid. The whole of Gotham deserves that, but we can’t risk it.”
“See who?”
She pointed at the body, and Red Hood went to inspect it. While he did so, Ivy walked up to Danny, peering down on him.
“I know you.”
“Hi, Dr. Isley.”
“I was right! You work for Oswald. Almost didn’t recognize you without your getup. I take it this was your doing?”
“Yes ma’am, although entirely on accident.”
She laughed, and Danny smiled too.
“One we’re all glad for. Thank you.”
There were stomping footsteps, and Red Hood was suddenly in front of them. Harley stood up from the box she’d been sitting on, shielding Danny with her body.
“You did this?”
Danny the angry pulsing of the Hood’s half-formed core. It felt similar to the way his own core had felt when he was forced away from Amity Park. He slid out from between Harley and Ivy and held out his hand.
Hood took it, whether on purpose or unconsciously.
“Hi. Danny Nightingale. I just avenged thousands by accident. Please don’t kill me.”
The pulsing turned from anger to relief, and the Red Hood laughed. It sounded odd through the modulator in the helmet, but Danny smiled along nonetheless.
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risestarkiss · 2 months
Text
Being Purple ○ Part One
Rise Ramblings #314
Donnie, a.k.a. Othello von Ryan, a.k.a. Bootyyyshaker9000 is one of two middle children in the Hamato Clan. While Leo, the other middle child, eventually (and inevitably) becomes the leader of their group, Donatello is free to carve out his own place on the team.
And carve he does.
He can fix anything.
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He can make anything.
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It doesn’t end there.
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His list of talents is truly exhaustive…
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And for good reason. Through him, his entire family is able to have everything that they need to survive.
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His resourcefulness knows no bounds and the comfort of his brothers are his top priority…
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…mostly.
His usefulness is palpable. Visible. Physical.
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His contribution is his strength. Through the trench he carved out for himself, he knows his place.
He’s the tech guy. He’s the “genius.” He’s their foundation.
He’s purple.
Besides, outside of what he can do and what he can contribute, what else is there?  
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Unlike his brothers, Donatello sees his usefulness to the team as what he can provide his family, and only what he can provide his family. Therefore, if they can get what he provides elsewhere, then, to him, he has no place on the team or amongst his brothers.
But why would Donnie see himself as replaceable?
Maybe, it’s the internalization of things like this:
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And it’s possible that, unconsciously, it's the reason that Donatello acts the way that he does towards his tech.
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Even to the point of his tech also being…replaceable.
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But I digress...
I believe that Donnie's deep-set insecurity about his place in his family reveals itself through the constant search for external validation, especially from a "parent-aged adult."
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Fortunately, in show, he finally realizes his true worth, and how he’s actually seen by the people that love him…
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and receives the validation he’s yearned for the most.
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So, where does Donatello go from here?
Well, ultimately, by the time we learn of the bad future, Donatello is already…no more. But who he became transcended his lifespan by breathing life into the very resistance itself.
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He was a genius ahead of his time.
He was a loving brother; a kind, energetic, and gentle soul.
Thankfully, with the events of the movie, he can be all of those things and more...
He can be Donatello Hamato.
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○○○○
Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue
Next | Being Purple ○ Part Two • Orange, Baby!
Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi
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rrat-king · 11 days
Text
some Bad Girls accesory headcannons:
adaine
doesn't need glasses but wears blue light ones because the light gives her migraines. the glasses are round silver wire frames that she has broken and cast mending on too many times
she loses her glasses constantly so gorgug made her a glasses chain so they can just hang when she's not wearing them. it has little star charms and blue and silver beads
it's my hc that adaine didn't actually give kristen her pinky back, keeping the philange instead so she has the bone on a little necklace she wears. its morbid but sweet.
she has a leather book holster that ayda made her after she complimented her's so that they are matching. keeps her spellbook in it
has three bracelets from kristen: a red rubber 'vote for applebees' bracelet as well as two woven friendship bracelets, a purple and blue chevron as well as a orange white and blue striped
elf ears are... so stupidly sensitive so she has a hard time wearing earings but she does steal fig's ear cuffs a lot
kristen
wears dog tags with jawbone's number as her emergency contact in case anything happens. he doesn't legally have custody but its a safe way of making sure he gets called over her parents
got her septum peirced with fig in leviathan, was originally a silver barbell but had to take it out when she realized the silver meant that tracker wouldn't kiss her, so wears a little golden hoop instead
has six trillion bracelets. most of them are friendship bracelets she's made herself, but she also has a rubber sig figs bracelet, a pony bead bracelet that says 'little shrimp' as well as a 'WWCD?' she made with her campaign rubbers
bad at wearing rings but has a number of them that she keeps on a carabiner that tracker got her (most of them found in the river while throwing rocks with riz. don't ask her why there are so many lost rings in the river she doesn't question it)
she got rid of her cross necklace after meeting helio but still has the saint necklace she got at first cornmunion. it's saint iree, patron saint of the lost harvest
fig
has one of gorthalaxes guitar picks as a necklace along with a million others
wears rings around her horns, most of which she makes herself but fabian gifted her a few of his that he doesn't wear cuz 'they interfere with my fighting, thank you' that are nice elven gold
has a matching septum with kristen as well as a million other peircings
she. loves. mixing. metals. she wears a million pieces of jewelry and they are all mishmashed but because none of it matches it works
constantly stealing her mom's earings. it drives sandra lynn crazy
hardcore believer in scrunchys over hairties. always has one either in her hair on on her wrist even they somewhat clash with her aesthetic.
wears compression gloves under her fingerless gloves to help with her joints swelling
has a million pins including: some of her mom's old band pins that she let her have, band pins of her own, kristen's campaign buttons as well as kipperlillys but she doodles over those, pins she's made herself out of bottle caps, a little tin skateboard pin gorgug made her, and a red compass pin that ayda gave her that belonged to one of the previous ayda's
(will make one for the boys eventually when i have time to come to terms with riz's new found accessory addiction this season)
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