My name is Angel, and I am thrilled to have redone and restarted this blog. I am 24 years old and I've been writing fanfic since I was twelve, and I love love love seeing how much people enjoy my writing <3
My requests are currently OPEN for headcanons, thirsty thoughts, soft hours, and general chatting
I won't be writing as many long fics for now, as I am trying to start a small sewing business because unfortunately I need money to live in this world. Tragic.
Check the Masterlist Folder for fics that have been written
I wanted to see if you could write solangelo x ftm reader who's on his period and its making him feel really dysphoric. On top of that, hes having AWFUL cramps. Its okay if you dont want to but if you do tysm ❤️
no problemmm
having a period as a guy can absolutely be dysphoric
maybe you've told them this, maybe not, but these boys are emotionally aware
every month there's about a week when you get quieter, insecure, popping painkillers like candy
doesn't take a genius to put two and two together
will, as someone with an interest and skill in medicine, is researching everything he can
causes of cramps, natural methods, best heat pads etc.
may or may not make a presentation about your hormones and how they affect people, including how to manage them
nico, bless him, is a bit more clueless
you did once catch him with a box of pads, transferring them from the overtly feminine wrapping to blue wrapping he'd somehow found
he blushed so bright but mumbled something about wanting you to be comfortable and let you melt about his consideration attempt
they have a plan now
every month, you get a basket of things
masculine scented body wash (travel sized, so you use it up before the next month so they can get you a new one)
a bunch of stick-on heating pads
will adds a bunch of vitamins and drinks and snacks that are good for you
nico finds a pin badge or a print or a keychain in the trans colours
their compliments become about how handsome you are, how lucky they are to have such a great boyfriend, anything to alleviate some of the dysphoria
but when it all gets too much? cramps too bad, hormones out of control, dysphoria hoodie not quite cutting it?
they match your energy
they're in hoodies too, so you don't look any different
everyone's slumped on the sofa, watching whatever you want
they just exist with you
will makes everyone tea
nico ignores will's suggestion of healthy snacks and brings out chocolate
they know you're a guy, you know you're a guy, and they'll support you when your body seems to be disagreeing
i won't be writing as many long fics because i am also trying to start a small business and i'm working hard on that
BUT
i still want to write and interact with you all, so feel free to send me headcanons, soft thoughts, hard thoughts, general musings, anything you like <3
can i request solangelo x reader angst where reader feels left out and the boys find out and comfort them? it can end in fluff or smut, whichever you feel like writing. thank you so much for your consideration, i hope you're doing well! im glad your fingers are recovering as well 🩷🩷
hello lovely anon! i actually wrote a very similar story, so maybe that will scratch the lil angsty itch
Can you write a smut with Nico x reader (possibly Will too, i don't really mind) where Nico is like REALLY pent up so he goes to best friend! reader to try to feel better? I understand you're busy, and I don't mind how far into the future this fic is. I absolutely ADORE your writing and you're so unbelievably talented.
okay, let's do this, thank you for waiting so patiently!!
edit: i forgot to say thank u!! i'm so glad u like my writing <3
technically male!reader, argument about video games
"So. are you gonna tell me what's up, or are you gonna keep losing the game 'cause you're staring at my hands?"
Nico physically jerks at the sound of my voice breaking the concentrated quiet, and a quick glance over reveals pink cheeks and eyes hidden behind dark hair. As if to emphasise my point, his character dies, murdered by about six pixels of my sword.
He huffs, adjusting his grip on the controller. "Nothing's up, just restart."
"Why? So you can lose again?" I set my controller down and shift so I'm sitting sideways on the sofa, eyes narrowed at my best friend who is suspiciously not looking back at me. "Don't bullshit me, kid, something's wrong."
Nico rolls his eyes, but there's a tiny smile tugging at his lips. "I'm, like, a hundred years older than you."
I wave my hand dismissively. "Who cares, I'm physically older than you by almost a year, now talk."
There's a good two minutes of silence where our stubbornness battles akin to our game characters, but I'm too well-versed in being patient with this motherfucker than he knows. Inevitably (to me), Nico is the one to break.
"...you are not allowed to judge me," he begins, setting down the controller and bringing his knees up onto the sofa, hugging them to his chest. "Because I will never talk to you again and then ensure you get sent to Tartarus whe you die. Capisce?"
I snort, but give him a salute. "Understood."
Another thirty seconds or so, and my beloved best friend displays his charming lack of tact. "I'm stupidly horny. Like, ridiculously pent up, and nothing is helping."
...well. Can't say I was expecting that, but I do my best to take it in stride.
"You're horny," I echo, clearing my throat. "Okay... and when you say nothing is helping...?"
"I mean nothing." Nico rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly and staring at the sofa cushions like it's their fault. "Not my hand, not fantasising, not being slow or quick-"
"Okay," I jump in, both wanting to stop him before he gets too frustrated and not necessarily needing to hear the ins and outs of my best friend's masturbation. "Got it, nothing's helping. Have you... tried getting someone else involved?"
Nico snorts. "What a dumb way to ask if I've hooked up with anyone."
I reach out with my foot and lightly kick his shin. "Shut up, I'm trying to help. So? Have you?"
"...no," Nico admits, shrugging. "I don't exactly know many people who are into guys, and I'm not touching dating apps with a ten foot pole."
Call it impulsivity, call it sex drive, call it whatever you like, but whatever possessed me to open my mouth was an independent entity.
"You know me."
Nico gives me a blank stare, deep brown eyes rimmed with pretty eyelashes doing nothing to disguise the utter befuddlement within them.
Before he can get a word out, I double down. "I'm just saying, I'm a guy, I like guys, you trust me, right? I know what I'm doing, I won't let it get awkward, I could... help you, then we can get back to playing the game and maybe you won't be so shit at it."
I've known Nico for years, he's been my best friend basically since we met and lasted well into our twenties, so I know what his silences mean. Which is why I'm stunned to realise that his silence isn't wordless rejection, but thoughtful consideration.
After a painful several moments, he speaks. "Hypothetically... what would you be comfortable with? How would you help?"
I take a breath, releasing it slow and steady. "Well, I would probably use my hand, I guess. Would that be okay?"
He nods, slowly, once. Hesitantly, I take the controllers from between us and set them on the table in front of the sofa.
"Can you come closer?" I instinctively take the lead, knowing Nico isn't gonna risk even a minor rejection. Like a mouse approaching something it's sure is a trap, Nico shuffles across the sofa until he's in front of me.
Well, that won't do. With a soft huff of effort, I pull Nico into my lap, grinning at his noise of surprised indignance. "Hey-!"
"What?" I hum, arms around his waist to hold him against me. "I wasn't gonna reach all the way over there, that would be so weird."
"Yeah, 'cause this is so fucking normal," he mutters, but shifts to get comfortable, straddling my thighs.
"So, if I get you off, will you be less whiny?" I tease, my hands going to the waistband of his joggers. "Will you stop being a miserable twat?"
Nico looks down at me, his hands resting on my shoulders. "I'm always like this, I've been a miserable twat since you've known me."
My distraction tactic appears to be working, and he lets me pull down the waistband without a fuss. "Yeah, sure, but you're so much more of a bitch to me, why don't I get special treatment as your best friend?"
"'Cause you're just as much of a bitch!" Nico huffs, eyes rolling. "You match my whining, that's the basis of our friendship- ah-"
My hand palming over his underwear cuts him off, his cheeks flaring red like he's just remembered that he doesn't normally sit in my lap. I don't let him focus on it.
"The basis of our friendship is you have no friends and it's hard for you to play two-person games by yourself. It's hard for you to play single-player games, though, so maybe you just suck."
"I don't suck," Nico mutters, glaring at me through his hair. I roll my eyes right back at him, as if I don't feel him twitching under my hand through fabric.
"You suck so much," I argue, using my free hand and sneaking it under his hoodie to smooth over his side. "I've seen you try play Minecraft, it's embarrassing."
His hands tighten on my shoulders, hips twitching into my touch as i tease the little wet spot forming on his underwear. My eyes flick down to his neck as he swallows, Adam's apple bobbing. "I'm used to retro games, I'd kick your ass at Pac-Man."
"What about Ms. Pac-Man?" Doing the absolute most, I tug down the elastic of his underwear, using both hands to keep him steady. His cock bobs up, brushing the underneath of his hoodie, pretty and pink and twitching. "I could definitely beat you at Ms. Pac-Man."
Nico laughs, a breathless sound that's equal parts pleasure, playful frustration and disbelief. "It's the- o-oh, shit- it's the same fucking game, dude, there's no difference."
I gasp dramatically, finally wrapping my hand around his length. He's warm, tip weeping precum. "How can you say they're the same? Ms. Pac-Man is a queen, Pac-Man is just a guy!"
Despite his obvious struggle to remain coherent as my hand strokes his cock, Nico manages to keep up. "H-How do you know Ms. Pac-Man isn't j-just Pac-Man in drag?"
I reward his question with a thoughtful squeeze to his tip, and Nico muffles a whimper into the sweater-pawed hand he claps over his mouth.
"Very progressive of you, old man," I nod approvingly, my free hand slipping down his side to his hip and encouraging the tiny thrusts he makes into my hand. "I appreciate your unique point of view. Regardless, I could still beat you at any game. Just 'cause you spent years in an arcade doesn't mean you're any good."
Nico moans, and I grin at the sound of frustration mixed with arousal. He drags his hand from his mouth and sets it at the back of my neck, gripping it to ground himself. "Sh-Shut up- are you trying to make me c-come or piss m-me off?"
"Yes." I nod sagely, twisting my wrist in a way that makes Nico visibly shudder. "Look, I'm just extrapolating the evidence! You're shit at modern video games, it stands to reason you'd be bad at any other game."
"Th-That's not how c-causation works- fuck!" Honestly, I'm having fun watching my normally quick-witted best friend try to keep it together to continue this argument while I'm literally jerking him off in my lap. He's panting, and I can feel his nails digging into the back of my neck. "Minecraft isn't the s-same as... a-as that alien shoot-y game."
"What game?" I laugh, kind of fascinated that he's clearly losing coherence. "What's the alien shoot-y game called, Neeks?"
"I don't f-fucking care, don't fucking know-" Nico shakes his head, the tiny pulses of his hips becoming sporadic. I don't stop, keeping my hand even and rhythmic, but I don't stop teasing him.
"If you don't even know the name, I could definitely beat you," I scoff playfully, thumb now catching under his tip with every upstroke. "Guess it's 'cause I'm older than you, so I have more experience with these things, I could teach you-"
Nico slams a hand over my mouth with a groan of frustration. "Sh-Shut up, just stop t-talking, shut up-!"
His whole body locks up, a choked gasp forced from his throat as he comes. Dribbles of milky white seep over my fingers as I keep stroking him, his cock throbbing in my hand. I let him keep my mouth covered, watching as Nico shudders, whimpers, and slumps forward to drop his head into the crook of my neck.
After a moment, I gently let go of his softening cock, thanking the gods that I can reach the tissues on the table by the sofa. I clean my hand, then carefully wipe him clean before tucking him back into his underwear and tugging up his joggers so he's fully covered again.
He simply allows it, catching his breath against my neck while still keeping my mouth covered. Eventually, he drags himself out from his hiding spot, looking more relaxed than I've seen him in weeks.
"...five minutes," he breathes, a familiar smirk on his lips, and he jerks his head towards the TV screen where the game menu is still glowing.
"Five minutes, then I kick your ass."
sometimes my stream of consciousness makes something fun, and i think this was that. hope you enjoyed, thank you for requesting!
i came up with the idea, i got her excited about it, and after a huge delay the fruits of my labour can be presented
@pineapple-burgah a cowboy!han smut for you, bearing in mind i am british and have no experience with cowboys :) this is my fic blog, but you know me as 'angel 🖤' @angelsreblogarchive
2.4k words, jisung and reader are both switch-y, alcohol consumption but they're both just tipsy (severe liberties taken with sungie's alcohol tolerance), semi-edited (yes i use em dashes no i did not use ai, i have notebook pages and an aching skeleton to prove i wrote this lol (not directed at you specifically pineapples, i just know em dashes are a supposed ai fic red flag))
enjoy :3
The whiskey is repulsive. Your throat still hurts from the last sip you took two minutes ago, but being in a new town, in a new bar, surrounded by new people means the social judgement of abandoning the drink is entirely too much right now. So, rather than give in and order something you actually want, you’re stuck with what the bartender decided you needed from the resting bitch face you no doubt wore when you walked in.
The brown liquid is taunting you, ice cubes sat smug at the bottom of the glass.
“Yikes, what the whiskey do to you?”
Low, smooth, amusement colouring the words and providing the first glimmer of fun you’re experienced all day. Glancing over to the left, your eyes flick to the hat, the eyes, and the smirk of the stranger waiting a respectful distance for you to reply.
You manage to find your words just before the delay gets awkward. “…honestly, it’s kinda gross.”
The stranger laughs, big brown eyes crinkling cutely at the corners. “Why don’t you order somethin’ else?”
“’Cause that’s weird,” you huff, lips turning up – his smile is infectious. “And it was just handed to me without a word, is that a thing that happens here?”
The man gestures at the barstool between you, and takes a seat at your nod of permission. “Sometimes, yeah. Might just be that they’re jumping to conclusions.” He holds out a hand. “Jisung, a pleasure to meet you. Guessin’ you’re new around here?”
You tell him your name and take his hand to shake it. “Yeah, moved here a couple weeks ago.” The charmer brings your knuckles to his lips and brushes a chaste kiss to the skin. You pretend the simple gesture didn’t just make your fucking day.
“Well, will the lovely lady allow me to buy her a drink?” Jisung visibly cringes at the words that just came out of his mouth, reaching up to touch the brim of his hat self-consciously. “Okay, let me try again – can I buy you a drink you’ll actually enjoy?”
You laugh, warmth kissing your cheeks. “You may.”
He visibly relaxes and flags down the bartender, ordering something red and tart. When the drink comes, he doesn’t touch it; instead, he steals your barely-touched whiskey and uses the glass to nudge your new drink towards you. “Hope you don’t mind, don’t want good whiskey to go to waste.”
You take sips of your respective drinks, and a sharp cherry taste bursts on your tongue. Jisung takes an easy gulp of whiskey and clears his throat.
“So, been here a few weeks?” he asks, glass rim held between slender, worn fingers. “How ya’ like it so far?”
“It’s… different,” you admit, an elbow on the bar surface, body turned towards him. “Definitely still settling in, so I haven’t seen much of the town yet; mostly just been sorting out my new place and job and shit.”
Jisung hums, eyes bright with genuine interest. “If you need a guide or someone to introduce you to the hidden gems, consider my expert services offered.” He throws you a wink over the edge of the glass.
You again pretend like something as simple as a wink doesn’t make you feel special. “Bold of you,” you grin, mirroring him and taking another sip of your drink.
He shrugs. “I’m a drink and a half deep–” He swirls the liquid around, ice dinking softly against the glass. “–and you’re extremely pretty, if I may say so, ma’am.” This time, he doesn’t take back the formality, doubling down with a tip of his hat.
The cherry drink loosens your limbs and dismantles some of your brain-to-mouth filters, and Jisung’s charming, cute, dorky personality blossoms over the course of the conversation. You tell him about moving away from the city and living independently for the first time, and you learn that he’s a farmhand at the biggest ranch nearby, where he’s worked since he was sixteen.
It feels like he can’t help the compliments and flirtation, laughing low and clinking his glass to yours in a gesture of ‘cheers!’ that you both pretend isn’t just an excuse to touch your hand.
“Well,” he murmurs, tipping back the last of the whiskey. A single drop escapes the corner of his lips, trailing down to his jawline. It’s unfairly attractive, and you experience the inexplicable urge to follow its path with your tongue. “Like I said, I’m a pretty good tour guide, if you find yourself in need of one.”
You, just the right side of tipsy, tap a finger against your similarly empty glass. “Okay… so, hypothetically, where’s the first place you would take me?”
The flicker of a double entendre isn’t missed, and the slight tilt of his head sends an interested shiver down your spine. His voice drops, a soft twang making itself known. “I suppose I’d have to introduce you to my truck, then I’d be able to take you wherever you wanted.”
“Practical,” you hum, sliding your glass away and making to stand up, making sure you have everything you came in with. Jisung hesitates, tongue wetting his lips and eyes flicking up and down your form. “I might take you up on that.”
You smirk, every movement languid and teasing. On a whim, you reach out for the cowboy hat on top of his head. “Now, I’m not totally familiar with the customs in this town, but I’m also not totally ignorant, and I’m pretty sure…” You steal the hat, and place it atop your own head. “…I know what this means.”
You stay long enough to watch his eyes go dark, then turn on your heel and walk out the bar, barn-style doors clacking behind you.
It takes ten seconds for Jisung to catch up, and the warm hand curling around your forearm already feels familiar. He spins you ‘round, a little out of breath, a smirk on his plush lips. “Didn’t expect you to be so forward, ma’am, but I hope you know what you’ve just started.”
His arms slip around your back and under your knees, hoisting you against his chest. No time wasted, he crosses the road away from the bar, two silhouettes in the evening light. He only puts you down once he’s carried you to a truck, worn and well-loved. “This way, darlin’,” and he opens the door.
With his helping hand, you climb up into the cab of the truck, swiftly followed by Jisung. There’s a single moment of quiet.
It’s broken by the cowboys’ grasping hands, pulling you out the passenger seat and across the console, bringing you to straddle his lap. Your lips crash into his, twin exhalations of relief escaping into the non-existent space between your bodies. Jisung’s arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the quiet hitch of breath as your chest presses to his.
The kiss deepens, lips slanting and parting against each other, hot and greedy, cherry and whiskey blending together into something addictive.
“Tastes so much better,” you breathe, words spoken between hard kisses. “From your mouth than a glass.”
Jisung groans, tearing himself from your mouth to bury his face in your neck. “You can’t just say shit like that, baby, you’re gonna ruin me before we even start.”
You laugh, uneven and breathy, hands curling into his flannel shirt as his lips mouth at your neck. “You’re really that sensitive, huh?” Just to experiment, your hips roll down against his.
The action earns a shaky moan, his hips bucking up and hands tightening at your waist. “F-Fuck, shouldn’t have said anything…”
“Definitely not,” you purr, hands running up his chest and neck to bury into his hair, giving it a playful tug. The warmth pooling in your gut coaxes your hips to keep going, grinding down again and again, and to your delight, Jisung utterly fails to muffle his desperate noises against your skin.
His fingers fumble at the waistband of your jeans, the button slipping free. “So unfair, wearing my hat and in my lap, lookin’ so fuckin’ hot–” And his hand slips into your jeans, questing fingers finding the warmth covered by your underwear.
He’s rewarded with a sharp gasp and an instinctive curl of your fingers in his hair, already trying to ground yourself. “Damn, baby,” he whispers, smirking as he tugs and tucks at the wet fabric, baring your slick flesh to his touch. “All soaked f’me, huh?”
“Oh, shut up–” Your weak protest is cut off with two fingers sinking into you, and your head tips back with a moan. The movement dislodges the cowboy hat, sending it tumbling back onto the dashboard. Jisung tuts, stroking his fingers slow and delicious against your insides with one hand and retrieving the hat with the other. He sets it back on your head, tapping a teasing finger to the tip of your nose.
“Can’t ride the cowboy if you don’t wear the hat, babygirl.”
You attack his lips again, kissing that smug grin off his face. He moans into your mouth and fucks his fingers into you harder harder, faster, soaking up the effect he’s having on you but quickly getting impatient.
“Okay, full confession,” he pants, reluctantly pulling his hand from your jeans and blinking hard to try and focus. “If we were anywhere else, like a bed, my head would be between your legs, but I really, really wanna be inside you.”
His eyes are both wanting and pleading, like he can’t decide whether to beg for what he wants or just take it.
Your lips, kiss-swollen and shiny, curve up into a smile. “I’m wearing the hat for a reason, cowboy.”
Relief visibly floods his body, and he fumbles behind you in the glovebox. He retrieves a foil packet with a cute sound of victory. “Thank fuck, now take off your jeans.”
He doesn’t even wait for you to react, he just yanks at the denim with needy hands. With some necessary contorting, the clothing is peeled off your body, joining your shoes in the footwell. Jisung looks longingly at your thighs, and you can’t help but laugh at how bad he wants to know your taste.
“Next time,” you whisper, and his eyes light up.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Your promise spurs him on, and he undoes his own jeans, yanking them down just enough to free himself. His head tips back with a moan of relief, cock a pretty pink and achingly hard, beading with precome. “Fuck… fuck, c’mere, pretty girl–”
You go easily, making sure your underwear is tugged to one side and hovering over his cock as Jisung snaps the condom onto himself. The warmth radiating from your pussy pulls a wanting groan from his throat, and his hands guide your hips as you sink down, deliberately and painfully slowly.
“O-Oh, shit…” You cling to his shoulders, jaw dropping as you take every inch into you perfect body.
Jisung whimpers, eyes wide and wrecked as he looks up at you like he’s seeing an angel in real life and she’s on his cock. “You’re so tight – oh, god, baby, you gotta move, you gotta, need to feel you ride me, holy shit–”
“You talk so much.” You lift up, only to sink all the way back down. It drags a tremling, needy whine from the cowboy beneath you, his hands vice-like on your hips and encouraging you to bounce in his lap.
Proving you right, Jisung cannot stop talking, babbling like he’s losing his mind inside you. “So good, so fuckin’ good, don’t stop, you look so fuckin’ pretty, ridin’ me so well, you can keep the hat, please, please keep the hat if it means I get to fuck you like this again–”
It spurs you on, thighs beginning to ache as you feel your release building like a promise. Jisung whimpers as you squeeze around his cock, his hips bucking up and catching your clit against his pelvis. One of his hands sneaks down to press a thumb to that sensitive nub of nerves, working rough, determined circles over it.
“You gonna come for me, huh?” he pants, heart thumping like it’s trying to escape his ribs and find yours. “C’mon, gorgeous girl, show me how good it feels, come on my cock, wanna feel it, need to feel you come f’me.”
“C-Close, so close, oh fuck–!” Your hips stutter hard, the promise breaking and flooding your already-buzzed system with bliss. Your head falls back with a cry, pussy pulsing around his throbbing cock.
Jisung doesn’t stand a chance, and he drags you down until every inch of him is sheathed inside you as he comes, stifling a whimpery sound against your shoulder, the noise bordering on a sob.
Two bodies tremble together, catching shared breaths, hands softening against skin. Jisung recovers first, peppering kisses along your jaw as you shiver in his lap.
“Hey, pretty,” he murmurs, voice soft and sweet. “How ya’ doin’?”
It brings a tiny laugh from your lips. “…I’m good .Yeah, really good.” Jisung hums and gently guides you off his lap, both of you hissing quietly as he slips out of you. He removes the condom, flailing around for a second and making you laugh again before he finds an empty pot of gum to leave it in for now.
He’s so gentle; readjusting your underwear to cover you, helping you put your jeans back on, even sitting you in the passenger seat to bring your feet onto his lap and put your shoes on for you. “C’mere,” he mutters, running his fingers through your hair to neaten it up. “Still gorgeous, even when you’re all messy.”
You rescue his hat from the passenger seat footwell, dusting it off and giving him a grin as you return it to his head. He hums a thanks, and links his fingers with your after a moment, thumb stroking over your knuckles.
“…so, you still want a tour guide?” Hope and hesitance wrap his words, like a gift he’s not sure you’ll accept so he kept the receipt just in case. Looking into his pretty, warm brown eyes means you have no other answer to give.
i hope you like it :3 i actually haven't written many kpop fics so i hope this was okay lol <3
“Oh, a hundred percent.” You gesture at the freshly-defiled cab of his truck. “The first place was an amazing start, I’m sure the rest will be even better.”
Me and many others hope for you to have a full and safe recovery ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡!!!!
:3 thank u so much! i have finally taken off the plaster from my finger yay it's still hella sensitive but i will be getting back to typing my silly little stories as soon as i can touch a keyboard without flinching 💪
just wanted to let u know i have not disappeared, i swear, i make a mistake with fabric scissors (explanation in the tags) and now i can't put any pressure on my left forefinger so i can't type
Excuse me, could you do a smut story with Jason!Grace x afab!reader, where reader is overwhelmed with studies from New Rome University and comes home to find Jason and he notices her tension and offers to ease it up with a bit of Oral? BTW could you make Jason a soft!Dom in this?
(I'm sorry but I would DIE for this man so-)
i can absolutely do this, thank you for being so patient!
listen
everyone knows that demigods struggle with academics
it's the whole battle instincts, hardwired for dead languages thing
what's particularly irritating, however
is finding academia hard even when it's designed for demigods
normally you're pretty on top of everything, but this week has been... especially hard
your brain is so fried, you can barely read english or latin or greek
there's a headache throbbing behind your eyes, an ache in your neck from being bent over books, and the dread in your stomach for having to figure out what to have for dinner
instead, what you find when you arrive to your uni accomodation, is jason
the place is tidy, it smells good, and you lovely boyfriend is focused so intently on reading an online recipe that he doesn't hear you come in
he jumps when you come up behind him, but doesn't hesitate to wrap you in a hug
"there's my girl, how was your day?"
you explain all, and jason listens with a sympathetic ear, only briefly diverting his attention when the pasta starts to boil over
"well, you've got two days off for the weekend," he points out as you both sit down for dinner. "and you're gonna get some actual rest."
it's very sweet, but you still have studying to do that can't be put off, books to read to return to the library on monday, and you promised you'd go out for coffee with a friend-
he cuts you off
"okay, i'm exhausted just listening to you, so here's what we're going to do; i'm gonna clean up, you're going to shower and use that fancy shower crap you love, and then i'm going to eat you out until your brain goes offline, 'kay?"
you're... a little blindsided
jason isn't normally this blunt, but his piercing blue eyes show only calm control
he shoos you off into the bathroom, taking advantage of your stunned state to get you to do what he said
one shower later, you're fresh and moisturised and draped in one of jason's t-shirts
he's already waiting on your bed, patient
he pats the bed when you leave the bathroom, and you pad over
when you're within grabbing distance, he does exactly that, and puts you on your back in the middle of the bed
"ready?" he murmurs, wasting no time in spreading your legs and pushing your makeshift pyjama top up past your hips
he's not at all bothered by your blushing cheeks or wide eyes, but he doesn't move when you just nod your head
"use your words, babygirl, or i can't do what i need to"
you swallow, and clear your throat; "yeah, i'm ready"
you just about catch jason's victorious grin before it's hidden between your legs
his tongue is warm, wet, and he licks a stripe up the length of your pussy
the sudden touch brings a sharp gasp from your lips, and your hands fly to bury into his blonde hair
he allows it, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before he settles down and gets busy
he doesn't start slow
he devours, feasts, mouthing and licking at your cunt like he's actually trying to eat you alive
he drags one orgasm from you with ease, well-versed in the ways to make your body sing
once he's got that first one, that's when he slows down
lazy, messy, his hands just resting on your hips and stomach, allowing you to grind your hips against his tongue if you want
that's how he coaxes a second one from you. a slow, leisurely build until your head tips back with a silent, breathless cry and he can lap up your sticky sweetness
he lets you come down, pressing soft kisses to your dripping pussy and watching with a calculated gaze as you catch your breath
"one more," he decides, a finality in his voice that's both gentle and firm
"one more for me, babe, you think you can do that?"
you're already pretty wrung out, but he's already tightening his hold on your thighs, holding them open as he starts up again
he focuses almost exclusively on your clit this time, his tongue flicking over it and his lips wrapping around it to suck the swollen bud like he's trying to suck your soul
he holds you dead still this time, not letting you squirm away from the onslaught of pleasure he's lavishing you with
the room is filled with your moans and cries, jason's soft hums of encouragement and the obscene, wet sounds of his mouth working against your cunt
he's patient, relentless, and he pushes you closer and closer until you fall over the edge for the third time tonight
jason is careful in milking every tremor and pulse out of you, not letting up until he's deemed you sufficiently wrecked
he presses one last kiss to your fluttering hole, and sits up on his knees
the lower half of his face is soaked, his hair messed up from your hands, but he looks immensely satisfied with himself as he crawls up the bed to lay by your side and bring you into his arms
"that's better," he whispers, stealing a peck from your panting lips. "no stress for my baby"
after a minute of you catching your breath, jason helps you get into a fresh t-shirt of his
he cleans his face and the insides of your thighs, being so gentle and delicate you fall in love all over again
he tucks you both into bed, holding you against his chest and stroking the small of your back absentmindedly
