Reporters covering the AI companionship space tend to focus on the chat. It's the easy part to describe. But the more interesting story right now is happening on video, and SweetDream sits near the center of it. At sweetdream.ai, video calls are available with select characters, and the people using them describe a shift that's hard to capture in a feature list.
The mechanics are straightforward enough on paper. You build an AI girlfriend exactly how you want her, choosing appearance, personality and voice, and the platform's chat keeps track of your history so conversations build over time. From there you can send voice messages, take real-time phone calls, and, with the right character, move to a video call where she actually appears and responds. The continuity is the point. Nothing feels disconnected.
Set against competitors like candy.ai or ourdream.ai, all working in the same emerging field, SweetDream's edge is consistency across the whole experience rather than one flashy trick. The video call is impressive, but it lands because everything leading up to it already felt real. That's the detail most observers keep coming back to.
i NEED a david loki fanfic (if you're willing) like a fluff? Maybe him unconsciously falling in love with someone?
Have a great dayy🫶
ᒪՕՕ𐒖eռ 𝘮𝘆 𝘮îռḑ 𝘧𝞒Օ𝘮 ᏔîꚌ𝘩îռ
David Loki
Warnings: Use of Y/N maybe idk
Summary: As crime rates grow, so does the number of jobs in the detective field…Leading David to get a new co-worker, a digital forensics expert, or someone who analyzes photos and videos to make sure they are real.
A/N- I hate this I hate this I hate this. It was so rushed bc I saw the request so late and felt bad. IM SORRY.
David had met you about 3 months ago when you had landed a desk in the department. You were outspoken and nerdy. It was obvious photography in general had been your thing. He had seen you take a couple of photos in your free time when there was nothing to be done. You often got off track when he asked about the analysis of certain photos, talking about the lighting or how you could tell the photo was quickly taken.
David was checking up on a set of photos he had given you a few days ago. One where the suspect had sworn up and down they were photoshopped as a cruel joke.
“Hey, did you have time to look at those photos?” He asked, knocking. He closed the door behind him, seeing you were watching surveillance. You had your desk, scattered with papers and your huge screen, and another one at a 45 degree angle, for consultation, trapping you into a half square. He found it odd how you always worked in the dark, the only thing making the room visible being the huge screen you begged for. He stood awkwardly, watching as you were reviewing random footage. Standing far too close to the screen where your face glowed a soft blue and your eyes were light with both passion and the reflection of a burglary. Your hair was so shiny and clean that even it reflected the blue light. “One moment, detective.” Was all you murmured to him, stepping even closer to the screen as you analyzed the pixels, the shift of colors. David stared at you; your eyebrows were furrowed, jaw clenched in concentration. He stared at your legs, your heels neatly pressed against your ankles, merging together to form the calf of your leg. He always found himself studying you, but then again, he studied everyone; it was his job to study people. Thats what he told himself. The silence would have been awkward for any other two co-workers, and it should have been awkward for David, but he seemed content watching you work. He hadn’t seen someone so passionate about their job in a long time, and he missed feeling like that, like his job wasn’t really a job.
“What were you asking me, detective?” You asked politely as you turned on the lights, jotting a few things down to remember for later. It was almost endearing how you had stopped a task you deeply enjoyed to talk to him, or maybe he read too far into it.
“Those photographs,” David repeated, unconsciously looking her up and down, almost flirtatiously if you had thought about it for too long. You saw it as mere teasing. “Have you had time to come to a conclusion?” You looked through your files as you recalled what he was talking about. “Ah…yes, unfortunately I have. Take a seat, David.” Was your response as you began to search for the paper you had written as well as the printed-out version of the photographs.
“See, when photos are photoshopped or messed with, the software will sometimes have tags of which app was used. This photo did not have any.” You paused as you found the documents. “Now sometimes this isn’t always the case…but there are no imperfections in this photo; the camera quality is all the same, and the anatomy of the person all matches up. This photo is real evidence.” You said. You looked so certain, so professional. He hadn’t even realized how intensely he was staring at you until you furrowed your eyebrows again.
“Uhm…anyways…I suppose I should start writing my testimony for the trial of this case. Tell the others I heavily advise keeping him in custody. I have to my look through the footage…I’ll talk to you later, detective.”
⋆.˚————————ᯓ★————————⋆.˚
The next interaction he had with you wasn’t his proudest. He was strung out, obsessing over this new case. He was running on 3 hours of sleep and his eyes were widened with the need to understand. He had barged into your office right as you were about to get off work. Scattering polaroids over your desk with shaky, long hands. 
“I need your approval that these are real.” His voice was fast, still spreading out the Polaroids out in front of you. “Right now?” You asked, tilting your head. Wow, you were cute, and annoying. David blinked quickly. “Yes, right now.” He said it like it was obvious, which it was. You picked up a photo. “Do you know the type of camera?” “Why the hell would I know that?” He was already getting irritated, obviously getting impatient. “Well, I would need to know the type of camera to figure out if the camera grain is natural or if it’s intentional to make the photos seem more realisti-“ David sighs. “Do they look real to you or not!” You blinked, taken aback by the change in tone. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry-I needa calm down…god, I feel like I’m going crazy.” He said, sitting down across from you at the consulting table. “The photos are real… I’ll give you my signature.” You whispered. “You should go home, David. Do you need a ride?” You looked so caring, so worried about him. Your eyes were almost doe like. He didn’t answer you; he just stared. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or it was seeing you in actual light after so long but it all came crashing down on him like he was put under a spell. Why he was always staring at you, how he had memorized your patterns, your interests. He blinked quickly again, tilting his head to stare at you from a new angle. To you, the silence was definitely awkward; David had a protruding stare, one meant for questioning and nervousness.
After a solid minute of loud thoughts, David finally spoke. “I want to go on a date.” He blurted like an idiot; he didn’t even specify who he wanted to go on said date with until you looked at him like he was crazy. “With you.” He said. “Oh. With me.” You repeated. After the words settled in the air, there was silence. David looked around nervously. It was like a light feather had slowly been dropping from the ceiling, swaying back and forth and never actually landing. “I’m sorry…I- I’m sorry.” David said, clearing his throat. He moved to sit up. “Where would you take me?” You smiled shyly. “Where,” He cleared his throat. “Where would you want to go?” He asked, raising his eyebrows slightly and cracking his knuckles nervously. “I like movies.” You smiled. David chuckled. Of course, you did. You liked anything to do with cameras. “Okay…I’ll pick you up tomorrow then. 7PM, get off early.” That was the last thing he said before walking out to go home, gently closing her office door behind him.
I JUST LOST HALF OF THE FIC I WAS WORKING ON FOR AN ANON SHOOT ME NOW. WHOEVER REQUESTED THE DAVID LOKI FLUFF I SWEAR ITS COMING BROOOOOO I LOST LIKE 5 PARAGRAPHS.
every day every night i wake and fall asleep thinking about part two. the one from that absolute masterpiece you wrote of billy being reader's first actual kiss and UGHHHH I HAVE NO WORDS I SWEAR IT'S ALWAYS ON MY MIND.
not rushing you at all lovely, but the world ought to know i'm obsessed 😵💫 your writing is immaculate. that oneshot lives rent free on my mind 💔
HAHA thank you!!! i'm so glad you enjoyed it, first time was honestly such a rush to write and i'm definitely trying to work out a part 2!
Warnings: Ablism kinda, use of Y/N (someone teach me how to stop that from happening), profanity, Cole’s kinda dumb, mentions of unspecified trauma leading to the mutism.
Summary: Cole meets Harry’s daughter, a girl with selective mutism.
A/N: There is nothing on this app about Cole so I urge you to go watch Days of Thunder if you think Tom Cruise is hot. Please. Also happy early birthday to Tom Cruise!!
It had been a bad race, finishing only in third place. This, of course, was too low for Cole, and he was quick to get upset. He could’ve passed them; he knew he could, but Harry told him not to, that it would definitely cause a wreck.
Of course, Y/N had been to races before; her dad was a racing instructor, for goodness’ sake, but after the incident, she didn’t go. Actually, she didn’t do anything…not even talk. Her father hated it, would scream in her face trying to get her to talk, to go out and do something, but usually it just ended with Harry apologizing and taking her for ice cream. Today, Harry had finally gotten her to come. Though she was starting to regret it when Cole slammed his helmet on the asphalt.
They hadn’t met before, but Cole was also a little distracted with his frustration to notice her, pointing a finger at Harry, saying that he shouldn’t have listened to him. “Oh, would you shut the fuck up! We can talk about this later when you calm down.” Harry said through gritted teeth. He looked over at his daughter, silently pointing her out to Cole. Cole grumbled and walked away.
The next race was out of state, and they didn’t have time to go and drop Y/N off at home, so she would be coming with them to the next few races until they had enough time to drop her off. Thankfully, her father had told her ahead of time, and she had a bag packed. Cole was still salty about getting third place, but he had a can of beer by the time he finally asked who the girl was. “This here is Y/N. She’s my daughter.” Harry shifted nervously wondering if Cole would be rude to her after he figured out she wouldn’t talk to him. “Cole Trickle.” He said, extending his hand. She smiled and shook it, not responding verbally. “How come you haven’t been to any other races? You work?” Cole asked. Harry sighed. “She’s mute, Cole. She had a bit of an incident a year back. She doesn’t get out much anymore.” Cole furrowed his eyebrows. “She just doesn’t talk?” His Californian accent compared to her father’s southern one was a nice change. It was much more formal, and it also sounded kinder. She didn’t feel as judged. She shook her head, pulling out her sketch pad and writing something. “We can still have a conversation.” She wrote, showing Cole. Cole smiled. Her handwriting was neat and swirly, from what little he knew about her, it fit her personality. “Is she coming to dinner tonight? With the new sponsor?” She nodded. “Hope you packed something formal then.”
At dinner, Harry quietly informs them not to talk to his daughter and about her mutism. “Don’t know why you treatin it like a disability.” One of the men scoffed as he poured some salad onto his plate, one of the appetizers they had ordered. “Actin like she’s not just choosing not to say anything.” Cole rolled his eyes, and Y/N sunk deeper into her seat. Harry didn’t say anything because they really wanted this sponsor if they wanted to make improvements to the race car, but Cole saw his knuckles whiten.
“Can you order for me please?” She wrote to Cole, since she had ended up sitting next to him instead of her father. Because Harry was better at sales, and she didn’t want anything to do with the men. “Oh, uhm, yeah, sure, what do you want?” She pointed to the lasagna before writing down that she wanted a water with it. Cole nodded. It felt nice to take care of someone, to not judge them when everyone else did.
The waitress looked at them weirdly when Cole ordered for her, and Harry was surprised she even asked and didn’t just walk over to him to show him what she wanted. As they ate, Cole watched her, not paying much attention to the sponsors unless they asked him a question. Every time she caught him, he didn’t look away, just smiled and asked how her food was, or if she wanted to split a dessert with him. She would give a thumbs up, or write to him to ask for a dessert menu. Either way, she was smiling, her ears turning red from just the way he smiled at her.
When ordering dessert, they decided on a piece of tiramisu to share between them. She had never had it, but Cole promised it was good. She found out that she did in fact like tiramisu and smiled at him, nodding when she took the first bite.
A/N-Sorry for inactivity I’ve been in Italy for 10 days. this is also very short bc im still on said trip
this is actually disgusting im sorry
also I tried to make this more gender neutral tell me if it’s weird.
Warnings- the kinks that are listed like right below this, dirty talk, p n v, mentions of sex, mentions of foreplay.
𖥞 Most DISGUSTING FREAKIEST man on the planet. atp imma just list the kinks I think he has.
Dacryphilia, praise(ing), degrading, olfactophilia, power dynamics, cock warming, hair pulling, brat taming, overstimulating and edging partners, orgasm control, ect ect.
I wanna make it clear that he usually doesn’t act on these kinks and looks just ignores them. He’s a very easygoing guy about sex, and if he’s getting some, he genuinely doesn’t care about the dynamics. But he will never bottom. That’s his limit.
𖥞 On those rare moments where he and his partner agree to get freaky freaky, he still doesn’t push too hard. Like no bro, you could not pay him to admit he has a sweat kink?? (that’s what olfactophilia is btw) Unless his partner start talking some freaky bullshit about how his pheromones are delicious, that shit is lock and key. The exception is he has ZERO control over what he’s saying when coming. Won’t remember it either.
“fuck…mmm so pretty when your all gross n sticky…”.
And his partner has to just accept it because what else can you do.
𖥞 Much better at foreplay than actual sex. He sees it as getting his partner off, and then using them to get himself off. If his partner had come twice and didn’t cum during actual sex, he doesn’t put much mind to it; it’s not like he can’t make them cum during sex; he just can’t help but focus on himself. Usually, his partner still does cum during sex though.
𖥞 Most loyal perv on the planet!! Like yes, he’s watching his partner change, chew gum, and other stupid shit. A hooker could be rubbing her tits on his face, and he’ll still be watching them lick sauce from their lip and get stiff from it. Honestly, he’s never actually asked if he could watch his partner change, just one day he got up and followed them to the bathroom to put on a swimsuit, and now he always does. Idk, he’s weird, but if his partner said to go back, he’ll grumble and get to sit back down. Like he even does this in the morning while you both get ready to work. Again, is grumbling if they starting their shift later than him and he has to leave before they have to change. Soda is very sick of hearing about it.
“What’s got Stevie’s panties in a twist huh?” Soda would joke.
“Well i didn’t see my baby’s panties this morning thats what.” queue Soda gagging dramatically.
ꕥ summary: jack leaves his younger sister alone with pilot after a late night drive. pilot takes the opportunity to do what he never could before.
ꕥ warnings: smut, clothed grinding, dirty talk, mentions of drugs, hickeys, not proofread
enjoy!!
It was a late summer night in Las Vegas. Due to how hot and humid it was, every exposed inch of your body kept sticking to the leather seats in the back of Pilot’s car.
Peeling your thighs from the seat, you take a look in the rear view mirror. Smoky blue eyes meet yours, and you immediately look down in embarrassment. Did he know about the massive crush you had on him? Had he been looking at you too? God, it was suddenly even hotter in the car. If that was even possible.
Just as you began to roll down your window a bit more, Jack chirps up, “Dude, you know that chick I was telling you about? The blonde one with the boobs”, Jack mimes a pair of boobs on his own chest and you roll your eyes with annoyance.
“Totally man. What about her?” Pilot replied, taking a smoke and readjusting his hands on the wheel. You couldn’t help but stare at his hands. They were nice. A little rough, but clean. You bit your lip for the hundredth time since you’d gotten in that car, and looked out your window again. Even if Pilot felt the same way, there was no way Jack would be okay with his little sister and his best friend going out. You’d just have to settle for your late night fantasies.
“It looks like she’s dying for a taste of Jack fucking Hayes, check this out,” he says as he holds out his phone for Pilot to see. Pilot glances over, quickly skimming the messages. “She wants to meet up. Tonight,” Jack rushes out.
“So what, you’re just gonna run out on us? I’m in the middle of the goddamn road. We still have to take your sister home,” Pilot says as he makes eye contact with you in his mirror again. Shivers run down your spine.
“If you pull over there, I can catch a bus to her house. And as for my sister,” Jack turns around in his seats to look at you before turning back, “I don’t think she’d mind you taking her home. And besides man, I trust you,” Jack elbows Pilot in a cocky, playful way. While examining their weird exchange, you catch sight of Pilot’s jaw clenching. Is he really that upset that he has to drive you home alone?
Pilot’s car pulls over next to the bus stop and Jack rushes out of the door, nearly forgetting his belongings behind. You watch him get on the bus before you start thinking about your own situation.
There was no reason for you to be flustered. He was only your brother’s best friend. Nothing more.
“You can sit in the front,” Pilot’s husky voice airs out throughout the small, stuffy car. Though it sounded less like a suggestion and more like an order.
“Um okay,” you blurted out awkwardly, getting out of the car to switch seats. As you opened the passenger door, he eyed you with a smirk that was heart-attack-inducing. His eyes were the prettiest shade of blue and in this dark lighting they only looked sexier. You were lost in thought until he cleared his throat, which was when you realized you hadn’t sat down yet. Right. You placed yourself on the edge of the seat, closer to the passenger door than to him. Truthfully, you were incredibly nervous. You’d never been alone with him before. Jack was always there. But now? The tension was suffocating.
Pilot started the car again, and you tried your best to act normal. Like you weren’t incredibly turned on by his every move. Like he was just some guy and not the main star in all your fantasies.
All was well until about the 15 minute mark. You were staring out the window, listening to the Boyz II Men song that was playing on the radio, when his voice broke through the silence, “You’ve got a staring problem”.
What the fuck.
“It’s kinda cute actually. Can’t take your eyes off me. You want me sooo bad,” he taunts as your cheeks get redder and redder. You attempt a response but let out a stuttering mess before deciding to simply shut your mouth, close your eyes, and pray that he stops talking.
“You don’t think I notice the way you blush every time I look at you? Or how you bite your lips when you look at my hands? You act all sweet but you’re trouble. Shit like that,” he rubs his hand against his jaw, “gets me so fucked up, y/n.”
You tense up. This can’t be real.
“I-I’m not trying to-,” you mumble out, unsure.
“I think you know exactly what you’re doing to me, y/n. You know I can’t do shit in front of your brother,” Pilot chuckles as he pulls the car into an empty parking lot, “Well, your brother isn’t here right now.”
Your heartbeat quickens so fast you’re afraid your heart may jump out of your chest and land in his lap.
“You want me? You make the move,” he puts the car in park, rolling up all the windows, and turning around to face you, cocky smile on his face and all. The atmosphere in the car was making you so light headed, you could hardly think straight. The ball was in your court now. For once. All you had to do was make the first move. He was waiting patiently. Watching your every move. Every change in your facial expression. Overwhelmed with pure, unadulterated lust for this man, you unbuckle your seatbelt painfully slow.
You wanted this. God, you ached for this. You maneuvered yourself over the center console and into his lap. This was the closest you’d ever gotten to him. He smelled like weed, obviously. But, underneath that were hints of musky bourbon. It was intoxicating. So addicting. His eyes were piercing and clouded with intense desire. It intimidated you, but it also made your want grow.
He brought his left hand up to your hair, grasping tightly and pulling it down to expose your neck. His lips grazed the delicate lines of your neck, before he darted his tongue out and locked his lips with your skin, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark. Your hands trembled as you placed them on his shoulders, mouth parted, small intakes of breath.
Slowly, his right hand traced the length of your body until it found your hip. He let go of your hair and brought his other hand to the other hip, getting his mouth closer to your ear. You could feel his hot breath on your delicate skin and it made you tingle all over, “You gonna ride me, baby?”
You nodded so fast, your head almost fell off your shoulders, “Please,” you whimpered out. He gripped your hips and began guiding you back and forth, allowing your hot, wet core to meet his hard-on. The contact made you both weak, letting out sounds neither of you had heard from the other. His face went into the crook of your neck as you began to gain confidence in your movements, no longer needing him to guide you, though he kept his hands on your hips any way.
Each time your clothed heat met his, he’d let out a whimper and exhale into the softness of your neck, “Harder,” he’d breathe out, to which you obeyed, going harder on each movement. He brought one of his hands up to your face to engulf you into an intoxicating kiss with a clash of lips, teeth, and tongues. One of your trembling hands had wandered to his visor, and as you attempted to take it off, he grabbed your wrist and shook his head once, “It stays on,” he grumbled strongly.
“F-fuck,” he’d let out, letting you know he was close to release. You were too, but you needed something else to push you over. Before you were able to verbalize your thoughts, he brought one of his hands over to your core, rubbing in tight circles. He’d read your mind and your body, pushing you over the edge right before he finished in his pants, crying out and biting your shoulder. “Nnghh,” you continued to move until you had both gotten over the waves of pleasure. Just as you began to get off him, your phone rang with a call from your mother. Fuck. You were supposed to be home an hour ago.
You eyed Pilot in worry and even through his fucked out state, he understood, “Guess it’s time to actually take you home, huh? Maybe we can do this again sometime, princess. Whenever Jack isn’t around.”
“If Dally read Pony’s theme and saw that Pony didn’t like him at first, he’d be upset.”
No the fuck he would not. Quite the opposite, he’d prefer it that way. “Course the kid hates me. All kids hate me. You know what it would do to my rep if they didn’t? If he liked me too much, I’d belt him.”
“Steve would be so upset at how Pony portrays him in his theme.”
Steve would love his portrayal. “Kid called me smart, talked about how I’m good with cars and liftin hubcaps, and how my girl cried over me when I got hauled in by the fuzz. And he even admitted that he’s a tagalong!”
𐙚 summary: donnie asks you on a date, (to his room) and, of course, you can’t resist those eyes
𐙚 warnings: pointless fluff + brief smut because i love him, donnie being too cute, maybe too long + not proofread (aged up, obviously, let’s say seniors in hs) not proofread oops
𐙚 notes: i’m obsessed with him can somebody talk with me about this subject matter
Donnie, while not shy, wasn’t the most courageous boy out there. At least, when it came to you. His brain stopped working when you were near and he’d overshare until there was nothing else to say. You stuck around, though. You liked his stories. You liked spending time with him. He liked spending time with you, too. He’d pass you a note in class, pretending to stretch so he could drop the folded paper on the desk behind him. He loved to hear the crinkle of the paper as you unfolded it, your quiet giggles following. Every time you would write back, he’d pocket the paper and take it home.
The teacher loved your little ‘budding relationship’ quite a bit less than the two of you did, though. In fact, Donnie had gotten detention twice now for his constant whispers and laughs he shared with you. He didn’t care. As long as he kept you hooked on him, he’d take any punishment. Besides, Ms. Dulwich was exactly what her name described her as. A dull witch. She was a miserable, lonely woman who had nothing better to do than move Donnie as far away from you as possible. He always managed to get a note back to your desk, despite the newfound circumstances of having a desk at the very front of the room.
It was today, though, that he decided he needed to finally step up to the plate. He couldn’t just wait around forever. You’d lose interest or someone else would get to you first. The thought plagued his mind more than Frank, it was a constant bother.
It was 11:05, his, and your, lunch period. After debating on whether or not he go through the lunch line, he ultimately decides he was too nervous to eat, so instead, he begins to search for you. He eventually spotted you at the end of a table full of girls, the lot of you laughing and gossiping, as one does. He rubs his sweaty palms on his pants, and begins his journey towards the crowded table. He didn’t believe you fit in with those girls. They were loud, obnoxious and so… plastic. You were real. They didn’t deserve you, but Donnie definitely did. At least that was what he believed.
“Y/n,” he interrupts, ignoring the girl who he’d just cut off, rubbing his hands on his pants once again. As soon as you look up at him with that smile, he thought he might as well just marry you. He just couldn’t seem to get his words out, his mouth falling open and closing, over and over. The girls around you began to quietly snickers, giving glances and eye rolls. “Do you wanna eat lunch with me?” He finally spit it out, finally asked. Now the hard part was over. The girls began to giggle, but you nodded, standing from your seat. “Okay,” you said, your voice so calm. Immediately your friend’s laughter stops, the snobby girls looking on in disbelief. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with Donnie, the group just thought he was kind of a freak, to say the least.
You had never thought of Donnie as a freak. You saw him as the smart guy he was, which was a boost to his ego, considering he found you rather intelligent as well, though your smarts didn’t always show through a test. Maybe he just thought so highly of you because he liked you, but either way, he knew he enjoyed talking to you. “I hate them, I’m sorry. They’re just brats. They weren’t laughing at you, they were laughing at me,” you tell Donnie, sitting across from him at an empty table. Donnie furrows his brows, watching you pick at your lunch. “Why would they laugh at you,” he snorts, his eyes trailing back to the girls who were staring right back, poking each other and whispering. “I talk about you a lot,” you say vaguely.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Donnie decided he couldn’t take it anymore. If he didn’t ask what had been driving him crazy for so long, he’d never be able to sleep at night. “Do you wanna go with me? Like, do you wanna, like, I don’t know. Never mind, shut up. Not you, me,” he rambles, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut in disbelief. You stare at him, seeming so bewildered for a moment, before you simply begin to laugh. “Yeah, I wanna go with you.” Donnie nodded in response, biting his lip. “I like you,” he says, eyes flickering all over your face. “I know,” you snort.
“Will you come over after school? We can just hang out, or I can read you this book, it’s… I think you’d like it,” he blurts, his heart pounding. He could hardly process everything happening right now, his mind going haywire. “Yeah, okay, that’d be cool,” you nod, leg bouncing under the table. “Okay. Cool,” Donnie sighs. The rest of lunch wasn’t so bad. The two of you just talked like you normally did and the awkward tension went away completely. It was like nothing changed, though both of you knew something did, indeed, change.
𐙚
As the two of you stepped into his bedroom, successfully having gotten passed his mother’s questions and his fathers jokes, you dropped your book bag on the floor. “You can sit on the bed, I’m gonna grab that book,” Donnie tells you, kicking off his shoes. When he joins you on the bed, he hesitantly wraps his arm around your shoulder, opening the book. You look up at him, giving a grin. “What are you doing,” you ask, putting your hand on his elbow. “I’m not doing anything,” he says, looking down at you as he bites back his smile. After a moment of silence, he looks down at your lips. “You know, you’re my first girl,” he says, his voice quiet. “Oh, so I’m your girl?” You rest your head on his shoulder, Donnie giggling. You loved his laugh. It was so airy and silly. “I meannn,” he trails off, looking away for a moment.
“I think I like being your girl,” you hum, raising a brow. “That makes one of us,” he jokes, causing the both of you to laugh. Then, again, there was silence. He slowly moved down, his lips dangerously close to yours. “Donnie,” you snort, grabbing his face and pushing him away. He gently pulls your hand away, sticking out his bottom lip in a dramatic pout. “What?” You think for a moment, giving a shrug. “I dunno.” He scans your face for a moment, brows furrowing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have tried anything. I’m not expecting anything from you, I just, I was thinking… I don’t know, I thought maybe you wanted to kiss me, so,” she begins, only to be cut off by your lips on his.
It didn’t take long for the kiss to get a little too passionate, your shirt on his floor and his hand hovering over your bra. You move his hand onto your tit to give him the extra push, and then he’s all over you. “I really didn’t plan this or anything, I swear. I really like you,” he rambles on, sliding his fingers under the white fabric of your bra, his inexperienced fingers playing with your nipple. “Stop talking,” you say softly, hand fiddling with the button on his pants. “Gotcha,” he mumbles, reconnecting your lips until your hand meets his hard cock, covered by his boxers. “I’ve imagined this before, actually not to long ago, but this is better,” he tells, not able to stay quiet because he just always had to say whatever was on his mind. You almost laugh against his lips. “Donnie, you’re really cute, but shut up.”
He nods, grunting at the feeling of your fingers grazing the skin of his stomach. “Sorry. You’re so pretty, can’t help it,” he huffs, pushing his nose into your hair. He pushes your hand away, pulling his dick out of his boxers, because he just couldn’t wait any longer. “You don’t have to do anything, I-” He’s cut off with a moan as your head ducks down to take him into your mouth, tongue flat against the head of his cock. “Oh, shit, you’re gonna make me cum,” he tells you. You look up at him, one hand moving to make a ring around the base of his dick, slowing moving it up and down, the other finding his balls, squeezing gently. His fingers fly to your hair, gripping at the roots. He rewards you with heavenly moans, twitching in your mouth. You slowly drag your tongue around his tip before moving down. As soon he dick his the back of your throat and you hollowed your cheeks, he cums down your throat, tossing his head back as if his soul left his body.
You make sure he’s looking at you as you swallow, pulling away to let him take a moment. “You never had your dick sucked?” You question, running your fingers through his hair. She shakes his head, putting his thumb in between your teeth, pulling your mouth open. Letting his finger trail back down to your lip, letting it bounce back, he places a sweeter kiss to your lips. “I think I just came into next year,” he breathes, hands finding your tits again. “You’re so romantic,” you say sarcastically, Donnie giving you a dopey smile. “What, you didn’t like it?” He moves his lips to your neck, testing the waters. “No, I liked it.”
“You wanna do it again?”
𐙚 he’s such a virgin, idc, he’d be so awkward and chatty the very first time he did something slightly sexual and it would be so cute and annoying at the same time i want to kiss him
im so tired why’d i stay up so late writing smut about this man
Warnings: mentions of knives. Pretend for this story the age gap isn’t weird and Donnie is 18.
Summary: Donnie is carving pumpkins with his sister, and she invites reader to join them.
A/N-whenever I am writing stories I listen to my characters playlist I have made, if you would like to check them out the link is on my nav
Also I’m definitely going to do a part two of them at the party, idk if it should be smutty or not👀
Elizabeth Darko and you were very close friends. You were over at the Darko’s rather fancy house at least once a week, usually watching movies or getting ready to go out together. You’ve gotten used to the dynamic of their family. Between the conflicted political views and the passive-aggressive behavior her brother, Donnie, had at the dinner table, you really didn’t mind. Elizabeth didn’t talk about her brother much unless he was being annoying or he was helping plan a party. But you did know about his disorders, although you would often forget because honestly, it didn’t seem relevant to you in any way; it wasn’t your business. So when Elizabeth invited you to carve pumpkins with her and Donnie, you didn’t even question anything about whether Donnie should even be holding a knife, which was almost shocking to Donnie and Elizabeth.
Donnie didn’t mind you; in fact, he found himself finding you quite attractive. No one else thought much about it because overall, he was civil with all of his sister’s friends, and it wasn’t like he was a weirdo about it. So when at the dinner table you felt comfortable sitting between him and his sister while laughing about how it’s to “keep the peace” between the two, he smiled while passing you a spoon to scoop out the pumpkin guts.
“I think I’ve only done this two or three times before.” You said to Elizabeth, mildly grossed out by the texture. “Really?” She giggled. “I thought everyone did this.” Before you could say something in response, you felt Donnie catch your hand as you went to throw some of the guts away. “You have to take the seeds out, so we can bake them.” He said. His hand still around her wrist, they made awkward eye contact, he smiled in a small apology for grabbing you . “They’re really good.” Elizabeth said while nodding. “They take forever to bake though.” She complained. “Yes,” Donnie sighed. “Because you drench them in olive oil before you cook them. I told you that they would be fine if you just spray the baking sheet.” You could tell this seemed to be an annual argument. You also knew from Elizabeth that Donnie didn’t like to lose arguments. “Hm, maybe there’s instructions in a cookbook you guys have or something.” You shrugged as you separated the seeds from the pumpkin guts.
Donnie sighed, dropping the conversation. He didn’t want to look like a weirdo, not when you acted so normal towards him. You noticed how his eyes seemed to shimmer before an argument or debate. He was cute, you’ll admit, but Elizabeth would lose a screw over it, and Donnie didn’t seem very interested in dating. Apparently, you had poor judgement.
Later, after scooping out the pumpkins and having their mom bake the pumpkin seeds to prevent arguing, they talked about what they were going to carve. “Elizabeth, what are you doing…I’m not really good at art,” you huffed. “I’m going to just do a jack-o’-lantern,” Elizabeth shrugged. “Donnie? What are you going to do?” You asked, getting closer to try and peek. Donnie turned away, what the hell would you say if you saw Frank?? He thought. “It, um, it’s kinda weird.” He murmured. “It’s probably someone from his weird drawings,” Elizabeth teased. “What?? I like his drawing, they’re perfect for Halloween.” You said, you had seen a couple hanging on the fridge or just in a pile on the counter. They usually had flames, and skeletons with deep shading and graphic detail, but you wouldn’t call them scary. “I think I’ll just do a heart,” you sighed before thinking for a moment. “Or…Donnie could draw me something to carve.” You said with a fake pleading look, turning your pumpkin to face Donnie. “Well, what do you want me to draw?” He asked, bringing her pumpkin closer to him.
“Oh! Do a cat! You know, like a black cat type thing? pretty please?” You smiled as he took the cap off his marker to draw out your cat, thankful you picked a simple design he wouldn’t have to spend a long time on, even though he would’ve done it anyway.
While everyone finally started to carve the pumpkins, Elizabeth and you chatted about random things, how your college essays were doing, this new CD you got, and how your car has been broken for a good while now. After a while, you noticed how focused Donnie was on his pumpkin. “Can I see now?” Donnie sighed as he contorted the knife against the pumpkin, before looking at Elizabeth. “Don’t tell Mom. I mean it.” Donnie warned. “I’m not gonna tell Mom, just show us.” She rolled her eyes. Donnie stared at Elizabeth for a moment, debating if he should show them before he spun his pumpkin to show an incomplete replica of how Frank looks. “Wow, that’s really detailed, Donnie.” You said with amazement. “Did you come up with this character?” You asked, tilting your head. “Uhm…in a way.” Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “That’s scary, Donnie.” Elizabeth smiled.
The night ended with them eating the pumpkin seeds their mom had baked. And Elizabeth giving you a ride home. While they did that, Donnie set the 3 pumpkins outside with fake candles in them, deliberately putting yours and his next to each other. It was his drawing after all, he thought, making excuses for himself. But as he sat in bed imagining your pretty smile and how you smelled so nice, he gave up on the excuses and went to her peacefully, thinking about you.
