#also please ignore my unfortunate attempt at lingerie

[hattiestgal]

Doodle Game!

Perhaps Kiera could get a taste of her own medicine with a cursed object backfiring? Nothing too crazy of course, just a minor inconvenient change?

Sometimes when you retrieve an old magical relic of 100% legitimate origin, you aren't entirely sure what all the effects of said cu- I mean, magical relic really are until you try them yourself.

Typically, the effects are simple transformations, magic Kiera can reverse on her own quite easily, but when it comes to something like say... overwhelming subconscious gluttony, it becomes a little harder to rid yourself of the effects of. Luckily, it seems like her kobolds are happy to indulge her new appetite!

[gothgleek]

Adrian Chase Nsfw Alphabet

TW: mentions of canon torture (nothing explicit or of a sexual nature though), blood, and knife play.

Disclaimer: I do not own Peacemaker or DC Comics or the images used in any form.

Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated 🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This boy is touch starved so no matter how long the two of you were going at it, Adrian will wrap around you like an octopus and kiss your neck.

Unfortunately, Adrian is also cringe. He will give you a high five and thank you for letting him ‘smash that ass!’ Every. Single. Time.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Adrian spent a lot of time crafting his body into the killing machine that it is so he loves his entire body (except his missing toes) but his most favorite would probably be his ass. He likes the way you react when you see it. But before you, it was his abs.

His favorite part of you is your ass as well. He’s an ass man.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes cumming on your ass but if you beg him enough he’ll cum inside you too. If you wear glasses, he likes covering it with cum as well.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes eating ass (but that’s hardly a secret).

He also fantasizes about fucking you while he’s on patrol but that’s unfortunately illegal so he only enjoys it in theory rather than practice. (Unfortunately, he takes vigilantism very seriously.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not a ton of experience. Honestly, he’s only had threesomes with Chris and whoever is into Chris. He tends to be ignored but he was happy to watch. “Less chances of getting my mask removed!” It takes him a minute to realize you only want him and a little longer how to have sex with only one other person.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything involving picking you up. He likes to show off how strong he is for you. He gives you a whole goofy smile and everything. Alternatively, any position where he can grab, smack, or watch his cock go in and out of your ass.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Pre- relationship, he was adamant that the mask stays ON during sex. Post relationship he was serious about learning how to please you. Other than that, the two of you are bound to burst into giggles at least twice while fucking.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is waxed because his suit is best without hair getting caught. But if you preferred he grew it out for a vacation away from vigilantism, his public hair is a dirty blonde and his chest hair is a light brown.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is hardly a natural romantic and the advice he gets from Chris has… mixed results to say the least. His attempts at romance are cheap and cheesy at the least (flower petals in the shape of a heart, a box of dollar store chocolate, some leftover pie from the diner, etc.) But he does make you feel looked at and cared for during sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t really get horny, maybe a few times a month, since he is pretty busy. Of course, upon meeting you he is willing to

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s into roleplay, especially the kinds where he can rescue you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s pretty vanilla in this aspect as he likes to fuck inside his place. But he does enjoy picking you up and taking you from room to room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He likes making you laugh at his dirty jokes and pickup lines. He always likes you covered in lingerie and blood and hopes to see you in both one day. Outside of you, if he kills someone in a really cool way, he will run home and start eating you out without even taking his uniform off.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

The funniest answer is that I think that Adrian has all the federal and state laws memorized so he will not do anything illegal- even the ridiculously outdated laws. Like, if you happen to be in one of the states that forbids extramarital sex like Utah or Idaho, he will not have sex with you until you cross that border.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a giver 1000% but he also enjoys getting a blowjob while you have someone else (aka Chris) or a toy in your ass and watching you give someone/a toy a blowjob while he fucks you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s used to doing it hard and fast but he does dedicate a lot of time to foreplay.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies with the two of you were born out of necessity since you’re traveling together. Even when you settle down for long periods of time, he will have a quickie in the motel room if you ask. But in those moments, he would prefer to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I think he would be into knife play and maybe wax play but that’s as far as he will go. Someone brought up the idea of using a cattle prod and he was curious but right now he associates extreme bdsm with losing his toes and nothing is as much of a boner killer as that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

By virtue of his threesome exclusive past, he is used to going multiple rounds. His recovery period depends on how much exercise he’s gotten that day but he will use toys or something to keep you ready for him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He appreciates toys and will use them on his partner. He’s especially found of DP-ing you with a teal dildo you bought together. Sometimes, if he’s feel cruel, he’ll tie you up and leave a vibrator on your clit.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a pretty impatient guy who values the power of a quickie but he knows sometimes teasing is better than the actual sex.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not loud but he is super chatty and will talk you through it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would like to have sex with you on a boat with flames on it while dolphins swim around you two. Ideally, you would also be a mermaid in this scenario.

He also had Chris make him a sex playlist… depending on your taste in music, it’s very cute or incredibly cringey.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Solid muscle with a v line and no body hair and an ass like a baseball player. He likes to say he’s as smooth as a dolphin.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty low. You usually are the one to initiate things. Non-sexually though, he is pretty clingy and wants to be with you all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep pretty quickly, he likes to keep his days and nights busy after all!

[myrulia]

"You Taste Sweeter" - Kokushibou x Self Conscious!Reader

.｡.:*✧Synopsis: You are rather self conscious of yourself and it becomes bothersome to your Upper Moon of a lover. How will you react to you being beneath him and having sweets drizzled all over you, all the while being treated like fragile candy?

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Food play, body worship, praising, dirty talk

.｡.:*✧Word count: 4225

`` Does this look decent? `` You asked whilst slowly turning around to meet the gaze of your one and only, Kokushibou. The Upper Moon One was simply sitting on your shared bed and eyeing your standing form that changed into the fifth outfit of the hour. Truth be told, he was annoyed with your constant switches and why you cared so deeply about others opinion. At the end of the day, if you are comfortable then why worry?

`` [Y/N], choose a kimono already. This is the 5th one and my statement still stands, choose the first one and get it over with, `` said Kokushibou with a harsh tone. You knew he leisurely became aggravated at your hesitancy to decide on an outfit. The process could have been done an hour ago - and yet here you are, standing in front of your mirror with furrowed eyebrows and glaring at your lover. `` Darling, it is not as easy as you make it seem- ``

`` Then what is stopping you? ``

His sudden interruption made you go as quiet as a field mouse. Your back stiffened and it was obvious your entire body became tense. As always, Kokushibou had read you like a book and there was nothing you could do to outsmart him. Sighing out, you allowed your shoulders to drop to relax your stiffened muscles, still standing before the Upper Moon in slight shame that you allowed yourself to hide the truth from him for so long. You did not wish to take so long with choosing a measly outfit - in fact it never took you this long before - but this night was different. It started a little after sundown when you first looked at yourself in nothing but basic lingerie to analyze yourself, and the more you looked, the more you found more imperfections about yourself. You thought to yourself that Kokushibou deserved better than less than perfect, and thinking of the many beautiful humans and demons you have seen in your lifetime, you have come to realize just how truly indifferent you are.

As you were lost in thought, your much taller lover stood up from your shared bed, now taking slow strides to you until he was directly in front of you, placing his much larger hands on your shoulders and heaving out a small breath before speaking - supposedly attempting to de-escalate his aggravation. `` [Y/N], what are you not telling me? ``

In that annoyingly husky voice, Kokushibou leant down to your left ear, speaking in such a deep tone that you had to readjust the clothes that suddenly became tight on your skin. The demon then stood straight with his hands still on your smaller form, all the while you had to recollect yourself in order to speak your truth to your lover. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, you look into the pair of eyes in the middle, finally speaking. `` I have felt uncomfortable in my own skin as of late. I feel like I am not good enough because there are many more beautiful women to choose from so I do not know why you would choose me. ``

This time he let you speak, processing what you said and scoffing in both disbelief and offense. His glare became more prominent on his features so suddenly you felt smaller than what he usually makes you feel. Removing your gaze from his golden irises, you look down at the tatami mat flooring to ignore the internal shame you felt for feeling such ways. It is not like you could control those emotions, you felt as though you could not be compared to any other women your eyes have fallen upon. They were beyond gorgeous and that was a fact you accepted the more you thought about your imperfections.

`` Look at me. ``

His demanding tone lead to your head to snap in the direction of his own, which caused your chin to naturally tilt up. Your lip was quivering - yet barely noticeable because you wanted to look strong for your even stronger lover. Of course, his supernatural vision allowed him to notice every single detail about you, and so he obviously saw the pained expression on your face that you were struggling to hide. Sighing and shaking his head, Kokushibou runs a thumb over your bottom, glossy lip before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss onto your plump lips. You immediately let out a small whimper as your walls basically became crumbling down, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace.

Your lips practically lunged at his, tasting him for all he is worth while his did the same, indulging himself in your flavor until that is all he could detect on his taste receptors. A kiss that went from something so delicate and innocent now turned salacious and lust-filled. Your back was met with the hard surface of the wall from Kokushibou forcefully pushing you, and so you let out a small gasp that parted your lips yet they were quickly silenced with his landing on yours once more. You were trapped in his embrace in that moment with your small whimpers being hushed by his lips ravaging yours hungrily, obviously wanting something more out of the already heated kiss. Although oxygen was also needed so he withdrew himself from you, all the while you were left a mess and leaning against the wall for support. A hand of yours made its way onto the demon's hair, raking your fingers through the mess until you successfully pulled his ponytail out from its hold. 

While you both chased after your much needed breath, calloused hands moved from your shoulders to your waist, yet positioned themselves at your thighs and hoisted you up on the wall. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself from falling onto the floor, but just as quickly as you also wrapped your arms around his neck, Kokushibou kept his hands firm on your thighs. He sauntered back to your shared bed and placed you gently on the mattress, standing in between your thighs that refused to let him go. The Upper Moon took note of your actions and let out a small chuckle, just before wiping away any stray hairs that had fallen on your face. `` Please wait for me, I need to grab something from the other room. ``

You pouted at his sudden announcement of leaving due to the fact that he already managed to get you this bothered in your own clothes, feeling as though you are suffocating in them. `` Fine, but do hurry, I need you. ``

He simply nodded before placing your legs back down and stepping out of the room quickly to grab who knows what. While your lover is unfortunately gone, your hands spring to strip your body of the overly smothering kimono on your body. You discarded the unnecessary clothing onto the floor, taking no note of the small noise you heard outside of the sliding door connecting to the hallway of your home. 

Whilst you were stuck in the bedroom being impatient as ever, Kokushibou who looked around for a certain something was having a hard time locating the item he acquired merely a few days ago. He let out a low grunt of dissatisfaction multiple times until he successfully located the one thing he desired.

Chocolate.

Not just any chocolate, chocolate syrup that he had many plans with. Having said substance in hand, he strolls back to your shared bedroom only to be met with the sight of your body in nothing but a simple underwear set, but the one thing that caught all six of his eyes was your fingers plunging in and out of your cunt whorishly. Your eyes were closed so you were not aware of his entrance, your cheeks being flushed from the feeling of your fingers - yet it was not enough to pleasure yourself. You twisted and writhed, your legs being clenched shut trying to feel more from yourself, yet you could not satisfy your own needs no matter how rigorously you moved your two digits.

Kokushibou, who continued to move undetected, placed the chocolate onto the bedside table, moving to stand in front of you once completed with the simple task. He could not lie, he was enjoying the sight of you not being able to get yourself off without the help of himself, yet despite enjoying the small little show you were not aware of giving him, his hand finds your wrist, grabbing you gently to stop your movements. You peel your eyes open to meet his gaze, your faces being inches from each other. `` I- I am so sorry- ``

`` There is nothing to apologize for, but my star, let me make you feel how beautiful you are instead. ``

Your cheeks flushed even more once Kokushibou began crawling onto the bed, pulling down your panties by the hem, slowly gliding them down your legs until they were completely off and throwing them to the side as well. His other hand trailing up your thigh and spreading your legs to reveal the delicious sight of your dripping pussy pulsating in such desire for him. You crawled backwards until your back hit the wall once more, meaning you were trapped and at his disposal as always. The male kept his eyes fixated on you and your flustered state that was so easy to cause. You turned your head away feeling flushed and heated in your lower reigns, but you refused to admit to such things. `` [Y/N] I want you to look at me as I pleasure you. ``

His voice returned to the same husky tone he used earlier to seduce you into doing such naughty things, so you found yourself staring into his golden irises again and longing for his touch, his scent to overwhelm your nose, his cock bending your mind to pleasure. You desired him and it was no point in hiding such a fact. There were no words that needed to be uttered in order for Kokushibou to understand just exactly what you needed - but that does not mean he is not going to be a tease about it. 

Laying you down gently, he now has both hands interlocked with yours, hovering above your almost entirely exposed body while the only thing exposed of his was his chest and abdomen. It was a habit of his to wander around your shared living space in nothing but a measly hakama that teased the living hell out of you, and even now, it seemed like the fabric was mocking you again, blocking your view of his muscular body above yours. `` My love, I never want you to feel like you are anything less than utterly beautiful. You will forever be the brightest star in my life and nothing can change that. Please do not feel those things about yourself ever again, otherwise the punishment will be far worse than this. ``

`` What do you mean punishme- oh, `` you managed to let out a small gasp at the end of your questioning sentence in view of the fact that your lover grabbed something you never would have even guessed he owned, drizzling the light brown substance all over your lower abdomen. The cold feeling being left on your exposed skin caused you to squirm - just a bit - so you could adjust yourself to the temperature, and seeing you struggle was amusing to the demon before you. A large hand glides up your arms, stopping just in front of your still covered chest by that accursed bra of yours, so in one swift movement, it is ripped from your body and in shreds on the floor. You let out a miniscule whimper at your nipples now being exposed to the cold air around you.

Kokushibou's hands then trailed to your cold, erected nipples, fondling with the two sensitive buds while watching your face scrunch at the tease of pleasure he was giving you. Bucking your hips up, you whine much more audibly this time, making your needs and wants known to the Upper Moon because the teasing was driving you mad. A deep chuckle escaped his lips. Now leaning his head forward, his tongue probes out from his mouth and landing on your skin, coaxing the wet muscle with the chocolate he drizzled all over your stomach without shame. He continued to eye your expression, only to see that your eyes were closed and your head was now tilted back. He figured your nipples got the teasing they deserved so he pressed the pad of his thumb on the buds before gripping your breasts entirely, kneading the two globes while his tongue explored your body.

You writhed beneath him each time his fangs would brush against your skin, multiple shivers emitting from your spine that caused you to shiver. The feeling of his tongue on your body trailing up in between the valley of your breast was mind numbing and your toes curled at this. Kokushibou knew what he was doing as he got closer and closer to his face, his tongue being lathered in chocolate and saliva, the two substances that made a dangerous combination on your skin. You refused to open your eyes because now your cheeks were crimson all over again. You never would have expected such acts from a demon like the Upper Moon, and yet here you are underneath him being treated like royalty almost. 

`` I will not ask this again [Y/N], open your eyes and look at me. ``

You followed his orders - slowly. It was on purpose just to see how far he is willing to go to get his point across. Yes you were going to be a brat about it, but gradually become worse over time.

Once your eyes were fixated on him, his hand that was on your left breast gripped your cheeks, which caused your lips to be puckered open and you looked in shock as the demon spat in your mouth before exerting his lips onto yours. His tongue forcibly entered your mouth, allowing you to taste the sweet chocolate on his taste buds that was being transferred to yours, saliva getting in the mix until you could not tell who's was who's. Your hands that were originally gripped the bedsheets now wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer until your chest was pressed against his. Soon you pulled away for oxygen, and it took one glance in each other's eyes to know what the latter wanted. `` Kokushibou I am sorry for wasting o-our time. Please do not tease for long. I need you to fulfill my needs. ``

`` Do not worry, your needs will be fulfilled when I say so, my star, `` Kokushibou said in a lower tone, letting go of your face and breast to finally rid of the difficult hakama covering his own erection. He quickly discarded the fabric and threw it onto the floor beside the bed, looking down at you with a fire ablaze in his eyes, peering at your body having chocolate smeared all over, but he is not done with the sweet treat just yet. `` It does not seem like you are doing much about my needs darling. ``

`` Do not worry, they will soon enough, just be patient, `` he reassured while caressing your face ever so gently with his fingers. The gesture was gentle and loving in a sense, yet you felt his girthy length invaded your already flexing pussy. Your eyes fluttered back as you do nothing but surrender yourself to complete bliss. `` Kokushibou! Warn m-me..! ``

`` You do not deserve a warning, this is a punishment..- after all, `` he snarled in response. His calloused hands found yours, taking the chance to interlock your fingers and stare down at your beautiful irises. `` You deserve to feel what it is like to be loved, and so I will not stop until you know just how beautiful you are. ``

You simply nodded, not really knowing what else to do in that moment since you felt so full because of his cock alone. You tried to adjust yourself, yet your walls continued to contract and clench on his length, and that was all it took for the male to start his slow, yet hard thrusts. He pulled out slowly, barely to the tip, before slamming himself back inside you. You inhaled sharply before letting out a loud, breathy moan, rolling your hips so you can ease the fiery pain and pleasure that overflooded your senses throughout your entire body.  Kokushibou let out a deep groan before it quickly changed into an also breathy moan, tilting his head back whilst his hands started to grip yours. He was losing control and it was obvious with how every vein pulsed on his body and became more prominent.

Moan after moan escaped your lips each time he continuously rammed his length deep inside you, reaching every goddamn spot inside of your silky insides covered in your delectable juices that made it much more easier for Kokushibou to slide in and out of your hole effortlessly. The hard rutting of his hips against yours became bruising due to the fact that his thrusts were roughly inflicting pleasure to your pussy and your skin would meet with his every time. It was too much and he barely did anything.

Your hands wormed out of his to get a better grip of something, anything, just to calm the electrifying waves of pleasure taking over your nervous system as a whole, so you moved your hands to his back and clawed at his skin for dear life. The action earned you a low growl from Kokushibou who had to grip onto the bedsheets for dear life just to hold himself up. Your nails digging into his back was painful - but enjoyable to know that he is pleasuring you this well - yet very far from done.

`` Enjoying yourself? `` He mocked whilst finally looking down at whatever ruined state you were already in. Your eyes had managed to roll back fully, your tongue being partially lolled out of your gaping mouth. Sweat droplets managed to form on your face due to the sheer amount of force his thrusts had. You nodded your head quickly in response, not being able to let out anything else except for moans of his name and moans in general, which was such a radiant sight to see for Kokushibou who knew just what to do to have you seeing stars. He himself was becoming pleasure blinded, for his slow yet rough paced was slowly becoming more rapid as more perspiration formed on his chest, forehead, arms, and lower abdomen. It was a sexy sight to say the least as groan after breathy groan came from his lips, but that quickly latched onto the side of your throat, biting the flesh - yet not enough to actually tear skin. `` Do..- Do you think I am done with you? This was just the start [Y/N]. ``

You could not conjure up a proper response, just a loud moan as you felt a hardened tip kiss against the entrance of your cervix. The feeling sent more shocks of pleasure throughout your nervous system, your breath hitching and your face scrunching up once more. `` I believe you will.. try your best!- Ngh- But what will you do.. if you do n-not succeed? ``

`` That will not happen.. rest assured. You will not know anything else but just how much of a beautiful person you are, o-okay? `` You could have sworn you heard Kokushibou out of all demons stutter on his own words. Your walls began clamping down on his cock that continued to fill your insides with each rough movement, so you felt yourself becoming closer to your climax than you had hoped.

Your chests were practically glued together from the combined sweat of your bodies as his pace never faltered, only continuing to further quicken and add on to your mind going foggy. `` I cannot have you going blank just yet, stay with me, my love. ``

His words went in one ear and out the other, but as soon as you felt the cold substance be drizzled on your chest, you gasped out his name audibly whilst having your mouth set agape even more. You tried to process one thing at a time yet before you knew it his vein covered hands gripped your breasts with such force that you arched your back into his chest even more, your breath hitching at the suddenness. `` Y-Yes I promise..! ``

Kokushibou's tongue darted to your chocolate-covered nipple first, bathing his taste receptors in the sweet substance all the while sucking greedily on the erected bud. Your moans came out more shaky each time a groan emitted from his esophagus, the vibrations transferring to your own body that just made your pleasure enhanced senses skyrocket. `` The chocolate may be sweet..- `` Kokushibou paused. `` ..But you taste sweeter. ``

His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, repeating the action of licking your chest clean that had you seeing stars at that point. The roughness of his thrusts still kissing just against your cervix sending constant tsunamis of intense pleasure throughout your entire being was starting to become mind numbing as your climax was slowly approaching. 

`` Ko-Kokushibou- ah! I'm going to.. cum-! `` You shouted out above your moans, your mouth being left agape due to the sudden pace change of force being put into the plunging of his cock going deeper and deeper inside you with each loud mewl of his name. It was driving him crazy having your nails dig further into his back that was bound to leave marks clear as day, yet he did not mind because the pain was one of the only things keeping him from losing himself in the pleasure your slick-covered walls were giving him. He merely groaned in response, nodding rapidly, not wanting to answer in coherent words in view of the fact that his tongue was still gathering any remaining chocolate on your chest, trailing the wet muscle up your neck and leaving yet another bite mark next to the one he left earlier.

`` I want you- fuck- I want you to know how beautiful you are.. inside and out..-`` Kokushibou said, his tone being more rugged than before feeling his own climax approach ever so slowly, building up to release his load within your depths. The swelling within your core would not stop growing until eventually your mind was painted white, releasing on your lover's cock and squeezing your eyes shut to truly savor the feeling of your walls being coated with your cum that continued to spasm around his cock.

Just as you were still lost in a shocked state of your orgasm, your face was suddenly gripped by two masculine hands, being forced to look at the owner in his eyes that read "Upper Moon One." `` I'm going to cum inside you, and you better be appreciative of every single drop, otherwise there will be consequences.``

You simply nodded as quickly as you could, his thrusts still not faltering. Although with one slam of his hips against yours, his seed is suddenly erupting inside you, your eyes now rolling back once more at the feeling of being filled to the brim. You felt full to say the least, since your cum was mixed with his, swelling your tummy even. A deep and breathy groan escaped Kokushibou's lips as he continued to release his cum within your aching cunt that seemed to milk him dry with each throb. 

The demon had finally stilled once his peak of pleasure had finally settled down, his body still hovering above yours as his 3 pairs of eyes could not tear themselves from your whorish expression. Your cheeks had a few tear stains, as well as your eyes being bloodshot and rolled into the back of your head, your mouth being left hanging open that had saliva dripping from your twitching lips. It was an amusing sight to say the least to Kokushibou, for seeing you in such a ruined state could instantly get his cock hard again at the thought of him being able to make you see other worlds with his length alone. His calloused hand caressed your face, a gentle action that brought you back to your senses, being able to focus on his handsome face again. 

There was a loving smile on your face that was small - but there, even though your face was practically ruined. You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into the warmth of his palm that you craved to feel in a gentle manner. You both had heavy breathes, trying to desperately regain oxygen after using your energy for such a scandalous act, yet the male before you used his energy to lay beside you, now turning you around so that your back is pressed against his chest and your leg raised by his other free hand. `` If you think I was done with you [Y/N], then you are sadly mistaken. I want you to remember that you are beautiful whether you think so or not. So answer me, do you believe you are beautiful? ``

`` Yes of course I do..!- ``

`` That did not sound so convincing my love, I suggest you need to be reminded again. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[iwajima]

poor little baby. (kuroo tetsurou x f!reader)

KINKTOBER 2020 DAY 1

summary: ever since kuroo saw you talk and get close with his colleague at a dinner event, he’s been teasing and edging you for a week.

warnings: smut, edging, slight!teasing & jealousy

status/word count: unedited / 2.2k

a/n: idk why I made kuroo such a dick, i’m sorry- also i kinda went overboard with this one

Neither of you wanted to go to Kuroo’s company’s dinner event, you both would rather spend time alone with each other. Your expectations for a boring event was rather the opposite, when you found yourself in an interesting and long conversation about art with Kuroo’s colleague. You found commonality through it and found out he too had a hobby of painting.

Kuroo shot daggers towards the man from afar. However, they went unnoticed. Unfortunately, he was stuck with his boss and a couple of other people who were talking about how the women in the company were rather eye-pleasing. Quite unprofessional and disgusting. His jaw clenched when he sees you both laugh. The way you attentively listened and looked at him with big eyes made him regret coming to this place. Had you both stayed home, he probably would be drilling you into the sheets and make you cum over and over for him. The thought of the things he’d do to you sent his blood down to his cock, making him more uncomfortable.

It was his final straw when the man placed a hand onto your shoulder as you both laugh at something that was probably stupid. He marched towards you, ignoring the questioning look and presence of his colleague.

“Kuroo-san! Care to join us? y/n here was talking about her embarrassing high school experiences.” He did it again. He placed his hand on your shoulder when he referred to you. He knew you were his girlfriend, it was like he was taunting him.

“Is that so?” He said in the most bitter voice.

“Tetsurou, are you okay? You seem tense.” You say when he remains silent. His stare at his oblivious colleague was broken when you softly reached for his hand.

“We’re going leaving, sweetie.” He dragged you home without saying any formal goodbyes, which made you worry for him.

Everything went by so fast. First you were in the silent car and now you’re against his apartment wall, cheek pressed on the cold surface with his knee between your thighs. You bit your lip, you knew what was going to happen and what he was going to do to you. Your immediate thought was that he was going to fuck you into oblivion but your jaw dropped at his words.

“Did you enjoy talking to Takuto for an hour, did you enjoy flirting with him hm? Guess what baby, you’re not going to cum anytime soon. How does two weeks sound?” He sneered into your ear, making you shudder at the tone of his voice.

“Tetsuro-”

“Kuroo-san.” He cut you off, brushing your hair off your shoulder to place soft kisses along it.

You let out a breath when he reaches the shell of your ear and leaves a lick. Your legs wanted to give out but tried your best preventing it when he pressed his knee against your core, making your eyes flutter shut.

“K-kuroo-san… Please, I promise I wasn’t flirting. We were just having a friendly conversation.” You tried to calm him down but that only made him even more mad.

He turned you around before tossing you over his shoulder. You yelp, however you didn’t put up much of a fight. When he reaches your shared bedroom, he tosses you onto the bed. He wasted no time in pulling down your bra and dress strap, mouth immediately finding itself onto your sensitive nipple. His rough hand slid from the valley of your breasts to your other shoulder before removing the straps too and fondling with your left tit.

You were so lost from the feeling that you did even notice him snaking his hand down over your panties, finger moving up and down your slit. He smirked at your moans, thinking about how you were going to beg him to touch you again when he leaves you dry and high.

Your nipple was tender after him sucking on it for so long. He moves to your other and giving it the same treatment as his left hand kneads your free boob. You felt like you could cum just from your breasts being stimulated. Over the years, Kuroo has trained your body to be responsive to him whenever he touches you. As a result, certain areas became very sensitive that even a slight graze would make you jump.

“Look at my poor baby, squirming under me, does it really feel that good?” he cooed into your ear, making your eyes roll back. You were so wet, he could feel your panties dampening as time went by.

You nod even though he could barely see you. He pressed his hand to your core,to which your hips automatically grinded against it in hopes to find friction. Kuroo knew you were close because of how your shaky sighs. The wetness began to transfer onto his hand, he wanted nothing more than to indulge in your juices but you needed to be taught a lesson.

He suddenly gets up and walks out the room like nothing had happened. You let out a quiet whimper, seeing his silhouette leave. Your eyes were wide in the pitch black room, the only source of light was the living room light. You mentally cursed yourself, letting yourself fall back down onto your bed. You knew Takuto’s touches were questionable but you were such a laid back person, you thought they just had friendly intent.

The following days felt excruciating. The day after, Kuroo returns home before you. When you entered your apartment, Kuroo was laid back on the couch, book in hand with his legs spread open. Your eyes immediately drink in his semi-naked figure as you think about sinful thoughts. You try to get close to him, in hopes to coax him into fucking you but he brushes you off and teases you about how horny you are. Of course that was his fault.

Attempt two, you wore his favourite lingerie set he had bought you for your birthday. The red lace complemented your skin as it was tightly wrapped around your body. Upon hearing his footsteps get louder, you sink to your knees, catching him by surprise at your position when he opens the door. His eyes widened before returning to their half-lidded state as a smirk formed on his lips. He places his hand on top of your head, stroking your hair before letting them fall onto your cheek. You eagerly pressed your cheek against his palm, enjoying the feeling of his harm hand.

“Welcome home Kuroo-san.” You purred.

He smiles before taking his shoes off and proceeding towards the kitchen. He ignored you. You stare at your front door, motionless in shock. Was he still upset? Your face heats up as you get up from the floor. He casually removes his blazer, before tossing it aside and sitting on the soft cushions. He lets out a moan that you know was on purpose, yet it still managed to make you feel flustered. Instead of being upset, his lack of attention made you angry. You just wanted his touch, and for him to make you feel good like how he always does.

By the time it was your sixth attempt of trying to get him to fuck you, you were exhausted and extremely needy. Each night you’d push yourself against him, trying to feel at least his warmth, but he’d just have his back facing you. You wanted to cry by how frustrated you were, he was being completely unreasonable. You didn’t even touch yourself because you know it wasn’t the same as Kuroo pleasuring you.

“Kuroo-san please… please just fuck me” You whine.

When he doesn’t respond, you turn the other way, deciding to sleep instead, rather than continuously beg for him. You were taken by surprise when he changes your position and spreads your legs. You couldn’t see him, but you know he has a satisfied look on his face as he hovers over you.

“Seeing you needy like this makes me want to fuck you so hard.” He presses his lips against yours, you sighed because this was what you were longing for.

“I’d make you my cumdump but you were being such a bad girl, this is your punishment.” He whispers into your ear.

You bite your lip when he presses his bulge against your core. Your hips automatically grinded itself against his, making him chuckle in amusement by your eagerness. He pushes his sweats off before pulling off your oversized shirt, exposing you to the cool air. You were only in your undergarment, the cold making your skin get goosebumps. However, they soon disappeared when Kuroo encases you in warmth.

The feeling of his hard cock against your thigh made you shudder. You excitedly wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him to just shove his dick into your pussy, not caring about the lack of prep. His thumb circles your clit, making you moan his name. His forefinger and ring finger spreads your lips as his middle spreads your arousal up and down your slit and occasionally ghosting over your clit. He loved the way that you were desperately holding onto his shoulders.

His name falls from your lips once more when he inserts a finger into your core. The small stretch was enough to make your head go fuzzy. He continues to add two more, coaxing your pussy release more of your juices so he could shove his throbbing cock into your cunt.

His tongue swirls around your nipple, wetting it before sucking and biting onto it. Your voice echoed throughout the apartment, your neighbours above and below could definitely hear you. The sounds were lewd, from the sound of him sucking your tit to him relentlessly fucking his fingers into you.

Euphoria was all that you felt. The feeling grew greater when he replaces his fingers with his cock, pushing the head into your tight hole. You hug him closer when he slowly stretches your poor pussy out. After not being fucked and being intensely horny for a week, you were extremely sensitive. You could feel everything, from every inch of his cock to his vein that was on the side of his length.

He started off with a slow pace, making you want to die. You wanted him to thrust into you hard and fast but you needed to be patient for now. He only just began, but you were already completely fucked out. The feeling of his skin dragging along your insides drove you insane. The stretch was mouth watering, you practically drooled at the thought of your pussy being fucked open.

“You’re being such a good girl for me y/n, taking my fat cock like this.” He whispers.

“Kuroo, please- more!” You whine, digging your heels into his lower back to make him go deeper.

He simply complies, picking up his pace and slamming his hips against yours. The sound of skin slapping only aided you towards your release. He could feel you clench around him, desperately trying to suck in his cock and keep it there. You were so wet that it was starting to run down, soaking the sheets and his thighs.

“Fuck! I’m so close-” You wailed.

“I know baby.” He kisses you deeply, as his thrusts grow more sloppy.

Your moans grow louder and your pussy gets tighter. You were right there, but you were left dumbfounded when he pulled out. He strokes his cock rapidly before shooting his cum onto your pussy, rubbing it all over with his tip, making a mess of you. He lets out a grunt as he reaches the peak of his release, spraying a few more spurts. He leaves a kiss on your cheek before getting up and leaving the room once again.

Tears begin to well up, you’re left on the edge once again. Kuroo returns with a damp cloth. When he turns the lights on and sees you on your side, sobbing. Kuroo immediately rushes to your side, trying to make you face him but you resist.

“Baby, hey-” His face was covered in worry and voice dripping with concern.

“Just leave me alone Tetsurou.” Your broken voice made him regret doing that to you.

He silently places himself behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close before kissing your shoulder. He nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck, spreading your legs apart. He takes the damp towel and cleans his cum off of your pussy and thighs, tossing it away when you’re clean. A finger circles itself around your clit, making you bite your lip because you didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing that it felt good.

“I’m so sorry y/n. I was a dick. I should’ve stopped the stupid act sooner, will you forgive me?”

You didn’t respond, instead you spread your legs wider for him, to give him more access to fiddle with your cunt. He smiles and leaves wet kisses on your neck. You were too exhausted to even push him away or stop him, so you let him fuck your cunt with his fingers. He truly did sound sorry, his voice was so worried it made you want to smile and kiss him feverishly.

It wasn’t long until you were clamping down around his digits, letting out the sweetest moans. It was the hardest you ever came before, all due to the week long teasing and edging. When he feels you relax, he removes his fingers before inserting them into his mouth, sucking them clean. It made you blush and sent butterflies in your stomach. He hovers above you, turning you to face him.

You look up at him with sad eyes and pouty lips. He smiles before leaving multiple pecks around your face making you giggle as you try to make him stop.

“Hey, I really am sorry. I was being so fucking unreasonable, I don’t even know why I dragged it on for so long or even did that in the first place. I let my insecurity get the best of me, you know I love you right?” He lowers himself and lays on top of you, transferring his heat to your body.

“Yes, Tetsurou. Please don’t tease me for that long ever again or I'm going to leave you.” He immediately raises his head to look at you with a scared expression. You laugh, running your hands through his hair.

“You’re not being serious right...?” He asks.

“Of course not, idiot. Now go turn off the light, I'm tired.”

[jeranasblog]

Welcome back to Discord

Sequel to Welcome to Discord

Rating: E

Pairing: Peter Parker/ Tony Stark

Summary: After Peter found out that his internet crush was no one else that Tony Stark, famous engineer and his new boss, he tries his best to forget what had been between them. Unfortunately, forgetting isn’t always as easy as it sounds and when Peter makes a huge mistake, it becomes almost impossible to get over Mr. Stark without losing his face.

Warnings: No major warnings, but since it’s smut, check the tags on Ao3

Peter was completely and utterly fucked. 

 Everything started with the interview for his dream job, personally conducted by Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries, and the man who had watched Peter finger himself in front of his webcam a few days ago. Peter had been shocked when he found out that his (hopefully) future boss was also the man he had a huge crush on, and according to Tony’s reaction, the man hadn't expected Peter either. 

 And while Peter might have hoped the thing between his internet lover and him could get serious, Mr. Stark had crashed his fantasies. During the interview, the man had been polite but distant, talking to Peter as if they didn’t know each other. A small part of Peter was actually glad Mr. Stark didn’t employ him because of their shared history, but the larger part was disappointed about the weird tension. 

 Still, Peter looked forward to his first day at SI after he had reminded himself that the job was more important than his love life. He had worked towards this since he was a child and now, he actually got the job. Instead of crying after the man he hadn’t even met in real life before, he should celebrate that he had reached his goal. 

 So he spent a night out with Ned and MJ, his best friends, and a lot of alcohol. In the end, the evening had been a success. They had fun together, Peter had only cried one time about the bad luck he was constantly having with men, and he even managed to dance five minutes with a stranger before he excused himself because his thoughts wandered back to his Daddy. No! Not his Daddy anymore. 

 When his first day at the new job actually came, Peter was nervous. The thing with Mr. Stark was still bothering him, but he pushed it more and more in the back of his mind. Stark Industries was a large company, he wouldn’t see his crush anyway. So Peter focused on other things. His new co-workers who all made a good first impression, his friendly supervisor, and the new lab space he got assigned to. 

 Peter felt like a kid on Christmas for the first hour, rummaging around in every drawer and every locker to marvel at the unlimited amount of fancy high tech. SI was definitely not stingy when it came to their employees. 

 Till lunch break, Peter was in a really good mood. Harley, a young man who worked in the same lab, showed him around and introduced him to everyone, and they were all excited to work with him. It couldn’t have gone better. And then Peter fucked up.

 He was alone for a few minutes during the break, so he pulled out his phone and caught up on the messages he had gotten over the day. Ned, MJ, and his aunt May asked about the new job, so Peter sent them the same text, telling them about his day and his coworkers. But what he shouldn't have done was opening discord after. 

 Clint, another sub who called himself Hawkeye online, had told him about his weekend that he had spent with his girlfriend and domme Natasha at a BDSM party, his first one actually. After Clint had updated Peter briefly on everything he had experienced, he showed him the new lingerie he had worn for his day out, a tight black leather outfit that wasn’t hiding anything. 

 And Peter, who eagerly replied with a thumbs up, had just wanted to send him one picture back. The day before, MJ had taken a photo of him in baby-blue lingerie. He was laying on his stomach, his ankles crossed behind his back while his head was turned towards the camera. His ass looked plump and lush, emphasized by the well-cut panties and he had spread his legs slightly, hinting at what was between. Of course, only Peter knew that he had worn a matching plug at the same time. 

 If Peter had sent this to Clint, everything would have been fine. They always showed their new sets to each other. But instead of sending it to Hawkeye24, Peter’s thumb had slipped and he pressed on the chat below. The chat of CallMeDaddy70 who was none other than Tony Stark. Peter wanted to die. 

 Of, fuck. Maybe he could delete it in time? Mr. Stark wouldn’t even notice, would he? But the three dots that appeared showed that the man hadn’t only seen it, he was also answering. Peter panicked. That was it. He could feel how his heart beat faster, how his hands started to sweat while he stared at the three dots that seemed to mock him. When the red one appeared next to Mr. Stark's chat, Peter opened the message hesitantly. 

 CallMeDaddy70: God, baby boy. Are you trying to kill me? 

 Shit, Peter knew how that seemed. He hadn’t messaged Mr. Stark all week and the day his new job started, Peter sent him pictures of himself in pretty lingerie? No one would think this was an accident. He wanted to run and hide, preferably at the other end of the world. Europe was nice in the summer, he had heard, but since this was his work, there was nothing he could do.

 WatermelonSugar: I’m so sorry Mr. Stark. I didn’t want to send this.

 At least I didn't want to send it to you. Peter prayed Mr. Stark would believe him, prayed the man didn’t think he had done it on purpose, or even worse, take away his job. The seconds the billionaire took to answer felt like hours and Peter was close to tears as the message finally arrived. 

 CallMeDaddy70: You don’t need to be shy, baby. Just tell me, are you wearing this to work?

 Of course, he didn’t believe him. Peter groaned, a mixture of frustration and arousal. He couldn’t deny the spark Mr. Stark’s words sent through his body, but the man was his boss, damn it. Yes, he was Peter’s walking wet dream, yes, one text message was enough to rile him up, and yes, the orgasm Peter had while he fingered himself for his ‘Daddy’ made him almost blackout, but the man would be paying his bills soon. There was nothing more inappropriate than crushing on his boss. 

 WatermelonSugar: I really didn’t wanna bother you, Mr. Stark. Please ignore my message.

 CallMeDaddy70: Do you really want me to ignore you again, baby? Don’t you want to know that I can’t think about anything else but you in lingerie anymore? God, look how the panties hug your ass, so ripe and plump. I want to slap it until you’re crying in arousal.

 Peter couldn’t hold back. He moaned so loud that he turned his head, afraid someone had heard him. Thankfully the lab was still empty. 

 To be honest, he didn’t want to be ignored anymore. He wanted to bounce on his Daddy’s lap, but he also wanted to keep his job. Whatever this was between Mr. Stark and him, it could become really dangerous. Maybe it would get better if he just put his phone aside? He could still answer Mr. Stark after work. Nothing had to happen today, right?

 ~*~

 This time, it wasn’t Peter’s fault but his supervisor’s. Even though his body was still buzzing with arousal, Peter got his control back by the time lunch break was over. He distracted himself with tech and his supervisor had even announced he would introduce Peter to his first project. But of course, things couldn't be easy for once.

 “Peter, could you do me a favor and bring this to Mr. Stark’s office? I’m busy and the boss likes to meet new employees once during their first time.” 

 A huge pile of papers was pressed in his hand. Peter really didn’t want to, but what should he have done? Saying no to his supervisor on his first day? Impossible. 

 So Peter found himself in front of Mr. Stark’s office, anxiously fumbling with his sleeves. A scared part inside of him screamed at him to run, as far and as fast as possible, and only the certainty that it would be the end of his dream job stopped Peter. Still, it took him five minutes until he had mustered the courage to knock. 

 “Come in.” God, Mr. Stark’s voice was as deep and velvety as Peter remembered. He could only hope that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. Like dropping on his knees and begging his Daddy to fuck him. 

 When Peter entered the office for the first time, he was impressed. It was modern and bright, with a huge window front that gave a beautiful view over half of New York. In the middle was a desk, metal and sturdy, and Mr. Stark sat behind it, wearing reading glasses that made Peter’s knees tremble. He was focused on one of SI’s tablets. God, Peter had almost forgotten how handsome the man was. 

 “Excuse me, Mr. Stark,” Peter’s voice wavered. “I’m supposed to bring you some files.”

 As soon as Peter opened his mouth, Mr. Stark’s head shot up. Raw hunger was written all over the billionaire’s face and Peter felt a blush creeping up his neck. Peter could almost taste the attention, crawling under his skin, and setting his body on fire. But before he could do anything stupid, Mr. Stark caught himself and leaned back in his chair. 

 “Peter, I’m glad you took the time to visit me.” 

 Oh god, this was killing him. Peter was so nervous that his arms trembled slightly and he gripped the files harder in response. Of course, Mr. Stark looked calm and collected, well, aside from the burning gaze directed at Peter. 

 “I-I… m-my supervisor wanted me t-to give you this.” Could he be even more pathetic?

 Mr. Stark didn’t make any attempts to reach out for the files, so Peter had to walk further into the office, straight towards the desk in the middle. He was hyper-aware of Mr. Stark’s presence and to his own horror, he felt his cock twitch. Being the sole focus of this man did things to Peter he couldn’t even explain. His blush intensified and hence Mr. Stark’s hunger as well. 

 When Peter stood directly next to the desk, he couldn’t put down the files fast enough. If he had to stay one more minute in the same room with the billionaire, he would either jump at him or embarrass himself further. God, the man looked good. Black suit, the pants straining on his thick thighs and for a moment, Peter imagined what the goatee would feel like between his cheeks. This wasn’t fair. And to make things even worse, Mr. Stark smelled so good, Peter wanted to drop his pants immediately. 

 In hindsight, Peter should have seen this coming. His fingers trembled and he was so keyed up, this was supposed to go wrong. And as expected, one of the files slid down the table and fell on the floor.

 Shit, shit, shit. 

 Peter had just wanted to pick it up. Really! It was an accident that he bent low, his ass presented for Mr. Stark. He hadn’t thought about it. And he also hadn’t thought about the fact that Peter had put on his baby blue panties this morning, similar to the ones he had tried on for the camera yesterday. As soon as he reached for the file, his pants slipped down an inch. 

 Mr. Stark snapped. He growled, hungrily and uncontrolled, almost like an animal. Peter could feel an arm around his waist, pulling him back until he sat on the billionaire’s lap, his thighs spread and his knees pressed apart by Mr. Stark's legs. He could feel something thick and hard nudging against his ass and a warm breath grazed his neck. A whimper left Peter's lips. He was so fucked. 

 “Are you doing this on purpose, boy? Do you want Daddy to lose control?”

 Peter wanted to defend himself, he wanted to explain that fate was very likely fucking with him, but instead of words, only a whimper left his lips, so pathetic that Mr. Stark chuckled in response. 

 “Oh, baby. I haven’t known that you need it so badly, or I would have contacted you sooner. I just wanted to give you time to settle in before your boss asks you to spread your pretty legs for him.”

 Relieve flooded his entire body, taking away so much tension that Peter slumped against the billionaire’s chest. He had been afraid he had done something wrong or that Mr. Stark didn’t like him anymore after he had found out Peter was going to work for him. Knowing the man had just wanted to give him time to settle took a weight from his chest that he hadn’t even known he had carried. Suddenly, being close to Mr. Stark didn’t feel so scary anymore and Peter allowed his body to relax, breathing in the man’s spicy scent. His mind was already floating. 

 The grip around his waist tightened and Peter was pulled even closer to Mr. Stark’s chest. His Daddy used the free hand to grip his chin and turn his head until he was forced to look into Mr. Stark’s eyes. 

 “This is your last chance to leave, Sugar,” his Daddy growled. “You’ll either take off everything but your pretty little panties and bend over the desk, or we’ll forget our history and you can go back to work.”

 Why was his Daddy even asking? Peter jumped from the man’s lap and stripped in a hurry. He folded his clothes carelessly and tossed them on the floor next to the desk. As soon as he wore nothing but the baby blue lingerie, Peter did exactly what his Daddy wanted, bending over and presenting his barely covered ass. To make sure the view was even nicer, Peter spread his legs and turned his head, excitedly watching Mr. Stark’s reaction.

 His Daddy was a vision, staring at him with such a hunger that Peter’s legs started to tremble. Mr. Stark’s gaze roamed over his body, exploring every inch until he had finally looked his fill. Then, he leaned forward as well and pressed a chaste kiss on Peter’s lips. 

 It was their first kiss and Peter’s entire body burned from the sensation. It wasn’t hungry, just a small promise of what was about to come and Peter started to relax. He didn’t have to think anymore, his Daddy would take care of him. 

 “I can’t believe how pretty you are, baby. The cam didn’t do you justice.”

 Peter blushed furiously. How did the man always know what to say and which buttons to press? The words were already enough to make him squirm, especially since the deep voice was whispering them into his ear. God, he was so easy for his Daddy.

 “You’re such a temptation, laying here all spread out for me. How can I resist you? What can I hold back from fucking you right now for the first time on my desk? You’re practically begging for my cock in your tight little hole.”

 Wait, Mr. Stark didn’t want to fuck him? It was as if someone had emptied a bucket of ice-cold water over his head and Peter started to sob a little. The words felt like a betrayal. Here he was, spread out for Mr. Stark, his hard cock trapped against the desk, while Mr. Stark didn’t even want to fuck him?

 “D-Did I do something w-wrong?” 

 The rejection hurt physically, but his Daddy immediately soothed his worries with a firm grip on his neck and soft kisses on his back. “Shh, baby. It’s not your fault. You were amazing. Daddy is just big, baby. I don’t think you can handle this if you have to go back to work after.”

 Peter relaxed in the tight grip and a small smile spread on his face. His Daddy wanted him. He was just reasonable and took care of Peter. The thought was enough to build up his arousal again and Peter closed his eyes, trusting Mr. Stark to decide what’s coming next. 

 His Daddy didn’t disappoint. As soon as he was certain Peter wasn’t upset anymore, he straightened again and let his hands wander over Peter’s body. He caressed every inch, his fingers drawing patterns on Peter’s heated skin and even though it was the middle of a workday, Mr. Stark took his time. 

 Time didn’t matter anymore. In the back of Peter’s mind, a voice was whispering to him that his supervisor would wonder what took him so long, but it was silenced by his Daddy’s touches. How could he even worry when he was at the mercy of such a beautiful man? Everything blurred together, the sensation, the arousal, even his Daddy’s scent until suddenly, Mr. Stark’s finger dipped under the hem of Peter’s panties.

 “Yes, Daddy, please. Touch me there.” Peter didn’t want to say it out loud, but his brain to mouth filter had been shut down by the hot arousal burning in his body.

 Even though his shameless behavior made Peter blush, his Daddy’s reaction was worth it. With a growl, Mr. Stark pulled on his panties until they ripped apart, nothing but a scrap of fabric left on the floor. Peter was naked, laying on the desk of his boss while Mr. Stark was still completely closed. The thought made him whimper in pleasure.

 “Look at you, baby,” his Daddy’s voice was filled with desire. “So desperate for me, even though I’m your boss. Aren’t you ashamed, offering yourself like a slut?”

 Peter should have been offended, but the words pressed buttons inside of him, he didn’t even know existed. He started to sob and spread his legs even wider, offering his hole to his Daddy. Rationally, he knew he wouldn’t get fucked today, but his mind hadn’t caught up yet. 

 “‘m feelin’ so empty, please, Daddy.” The words were slurred, but it was the only way Peter could say what he wanted. The humiliation mixed with his Daddy’s deep voice had already made him stupid with lust. 

 Fortunately, Mr. Stark wasn’t the most patient man either. “God, you little minx. Alright, I’m gonna give you something boy. But you can cry and beg as much as you want, I won’t give you my cock today.”

 “Yes, Daddy.” Peter didn’t care, as long as he got something that soothed the desperate need inside of him. 

 The click of an opened lube bottle showed his Daddy’s intentions and Peter whimpered eagerly. He didn’t care where Mr. Stark had taken the lube from and pressed his ass back instead, waiting for something to fill him up. But his Daddy stopped when the finger nudged against Peter’s hole, not even breaching him yet. 

 “Beg for it, baby. Show me what a slut you are.”

 Peter had overcome his shame long ago. Although he was usually pretty shy, arousal loosened his tongue effectively and there was nothing else on his mind than pleasing his Daddy.

 “Please, open me up, Mr. Stark. I need it. Feels so empty.”

 A loud moan vibrated through the billionaire's chest and the sound made Peter preen. He wasn’t the only one affected by this, Mr. Stark was just as aroused. 

 Opening up to one finger was easy since Peter practiced with his toys at least three times a week. He relaxed immediately, focusing on the slight burn and the relief that came with being filled. To his own surprise, Mr. Stark gave him a second finger right away.

 “God, baby. I can’t believe how easy you open up for me. Press your legs together, Sugar. Give Daddy a place to warm his cock.”

 Peter couldn’t remember ever following an order quicker as he did now. Two fingers still buried in his ass, he shifted until his thighs were aligned next to each other. The movement pressed his Daddy’s digits against his sweet spot for the first time and Peter sobbed when the pleasure shook his body. He had almost forgotten how intense it could be with his Daddy, but now that the man was actually touching him, Peter threatened to get overwhelmed by his feelings.

 The next thing Peter realized was a huge cock that was pressed between his thighs. It was slippery, coated in lube and so thick, Peter actually wondered how it would ever fit inside of him, but he was determined to make it work somehow. There was no way his Daddy could deny him this cock forever. 

 “Press your thighs together, baby. Give Daddy a nice warm place to fuck into.”

 God, Mr. Stark thrust his fingers in and out with every word, making Peter squirm in arousal. He felt so good, so owned, that his mind started to drift again and everything he could think about was the throbbing length between his legs and the fingers splitting open his ass. There was no way he could take this for long, even though the only friction if his cock was the cold metal of the desk. 

 “Daddy, I’m - oh god - am I allowed to come?” 

 Mr. Stark chuckled and shifted his hips until every thrust of his erection hit the base of Peter’s cock. Teasing him like this made Peter see stars and he fought against the waves that threatened to take over his body. Hot arousal burned through his veins and he had to bite his own lips to hold back the orgasm. His Daddy hadn’t allowed him to come yet. 

 “Beg me, baby. I want you to work for it.” Mr. Stark’s arousal was even deeper than before, probably because he was close as well.

 The fingers inside him kept moving, finding Peter’s sweet spot over and over again until his body was so overwhelmed with pleasure, that Peter didn’t know anymore whether he wanted to press closer or pull back.

 “Daddy, please, I need it. I’m a good boy, I promise. Just please let me come. It hurts, Daddy, please.”

 Finally, Mr. Stark showed mercy. His thrusts sped up, hitting the base of Peter’s cock every time and his Daddy’s fingers focused on the small bundle of nerves deep inside of him. “You can come, baby. Come for Daddy.”

 It was too much. Peter screamed when he came, tears spilling from his eyes while his body shook in never-ending pleasure. The friction on his cock was little, but the assault of his sweet spot enough to push him over the edge. His body tightened with the sensation, his hole clenched down on the fingers and his thighs squeezed his Daddy's cock. 

 Peter saw stars dancing behind his closed eyes. He didn't even notice when his muscles started to loosen and he slumped onto the hard surface of the desk. He had never come so hard before in his life, his Daddy was truly showing him places he had never been, even though Peter didn't even have the opportunity to take that thick cock yet. 

 Wetness dripped down his thighs, probably his Daddy's cum, but Peter was too wrung out to check for himself. He was still twitching slightly when Mr. Stark lifted him from a table and he could feel something cleaning up his thighs. He was too tired to care what his Daddy was doing. 

 "Close your eyes for a while, baby", Mr. Stark whispered in his ear and carried him to the couch on the other end of the office. 

 Peter could distantly feel that he was pulled onto his Daddy's lap while a hand caressed his naked back. He felt amazing, fucked out, and cared for. The warmth of Mr. Stark was relaxing and Peter's entire body succumbed to fatigue. 

 He would close his eyes just for a minute. His Daddy had him. There was nothing Peter had to worry about, not even his supervisor who had probably expected him back half an hour ago.

[twokinkybeans]

FALLEN LIKE SNOW - CHAPTER ONE: PRETTY PLEASE

Written by @jeranasblog​ and Kinkybeanlien

(moodboard made by @jeranasblog​)

After an unfortunate run in with his boss – Tony Stark – and a paparazzi in an elevator, Peter Parker finds himself at the top of a piste, skis attached to his feet and living the trope he has only read about in fan fiction.

Will he only fall flat on his face in the snow? Or will he fall for his annoyingly selfish boss as well?

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Notes: Adult Peter Parker, Fake dating, One sided enemies to lovers, No powers!AU, Mutual pining, Sugar daddy!Tony, Sugar baby!Peter, Fluff, Smut and Angst. Smut tags for later: Wet Dream, Dry Humping, Daddy Kink, Mirror Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Bondage, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fingering, Edging, Lingerie, Dom/Top!Tony, Sub/Bottom!Peter

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Read Chapter 1 Pretty Please on AO3!

Ugh. Peter rolled his neck as he stepped into the elevator. He pushed his shoulder back and flinched when he cracked. This internship was a killer on his body. It was fun and educational, for sure, but he really needed to mind his posture. Being hunched over his desk was already taking its toll. If only he could afford a physical therapist… “Babe, hold the elevator, please!” In a reflex, Peter pressed the button to keep the elevator door open and he looked up to see none other than his boss, Tony Stark, rushing for him. His mood soured immediately and he considered pressing the button to close the elevator doors. As much as he liked the work he did, Peter wasn’t very fond of the person he was working for. Wait… Did Mr. Stark just call him “Babe?” When Tony got close to the elevator he shouted. “Close it, close it!” Peter pressed the right button. His boss probably thought he could squeeze in at the last second, but unfortunately for him, that’s not how elevators work. Tony threaded the needle as the door closed, but the sensor picked up on him and Peter snorted when the doors opened again. The young man glanced up and saw a small horde of paparazzi rushing their way. Suddenly, Tony pressed into his space and took over the button, pushing Peter’s hand aside and repeatedly tapping the button as if that would make the elevator doors close faster. Peter scoffed and stepped back, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Whoever let them in the building is going to get fired,” Tony seethed. “Maybe your security system is just lacking.” Peter said the words before he could think them through and if looks could kill, Peter would have been on the shiny elevator floor right now. “Mister Stark-!” One of the paparazzi, a young sprite who definitely didn’t look like she was with the gossip magazine her badge claimed her to be from, managed to get into the elevator. The doors closed, leaving the others behind. The elevator slowly started moving down. The three of them stood awkwardly. “I’m not answering your questions,” Tony said quickly. The paparazzi grinned and turned to Peter, who took a small, uncertain step back. “Well, then I’ll just ask your boyfriend.” “B-boyfriend?” Peter stuttered and glanced at Tony wide-eyed. The older man blinked once and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder. The boy’s brows curled up into a frown. “Ah, yes! We prefer the term ‘significant other,’ right, babe?” Tony stared down into Peter’s eyes, a demanding fire in them telling Peter he would lose his internship if he didn’t play along. Peter laughed awkwardly. “Right,” he stammered.  “What a scoop!” The young woman jumped once, only to realize they were in a moving elevator. She contained her excitement by almost literally vibrating in her spot. “Tony Stark’s new boyfriend! Or- significant other. What’s your name?” Peter’s lips pulled together in a pout. He sucked at his teeth and stopped himself from flinching when Tony’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Peter.” “Last name?” “Private.” “Peter Private?” “No, Miss, he doesn’t want to disclose his last name. Duh.” Tony rolled his eyes and relaxed a little, letting Peter’s shoulder go, only to move his hand down to Peter’s back. It was warm and present and Peter wasn’t sure if he was okay with it. It felt strangely good, though. “Fair enough, I’ll figure that one out on my own.” The woman winked and Peter wished he could just disappear. “So, how long?” “Couple weeks,” Tony replied before Peter could protest or give any kind of answer on his own. “I take it you’re bringing him to the annual ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event?” Peter’s eyes went wide. He’d heard about Tony’s infamous parties that he liked to throw in the most expensive places; Tirol in Austria being one of them. The charity event always sounded like an excuse for Stark to go all out and spend bucket loads of money to bring over all his bougie friends to get drunk and have lots of sex. Something Peter would rather not be a part of. “Obviously,” Tony scoffed. Peter raised an eyebrow and tried to keep a straight face, but this was starting to become too much. This man was unreal. He was using Peter. What a dick. Before Peter could explain the truth, the elevator doors opened. The woman from the paparazzi was ushered away by security, but everyone outside the elevator in the lobby could see Tony holding Peter the way he was. The way people in a relationship would hold each other. Oh, God. Peter felt sick. He wanted to run, but Tony closed the elevator doors and asked his AI to take them up to his office. Peter could only stare at his boss with a mixture of fear and anger, feeling the press of his hand still on his back. The ride up is silent. Peter could tell Tony was prepping some kind of grand speech for when they would get up to the office. However, Peter was certain he could kiss his internship goodbye. … When the friendly voice of Tony’s AI announced the arrival at his private office, Peter was frozen, staring at the arm of his boss, which was still wrapped around his middle. Neither of them made any attempts to move and Peter desperately wished he was somewhere else. The uneasy feeling was getting harder and harder to ignore until finally Tony removed his hand from Peter’s back and stepped out of the elevator and into his office. “I’m sorry, Mr.- Peter.” Tony sighed, falling onto the chair behind his desk in theatrical fashion. He looked several years older when the fake smile that he had worn in the presence of the reporter vanished and Peter was plagued by an unwanted feeling of pity. Sure, his boss was a dick, but the discomfort on his face wasn’t pretended. “Could you do me a favor and take a seat?” Tony gestured at the empty chair opposite the desk and, reluctantly, Peter followed the order. This was the time he would lose his internship. He had worked for it since he was in high school and now that dream would crumble into a million pieces due to his inability to keep his mouth shut.  The silence was painful. Peter looked at his knees and fumbled with his sleeves. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. A million thoughts were running through Peter’s mind and he wished he could take his words back. Sure, scoffing at his boss was satisfying for a second, but it wasn’t worth losing the internship. When Tony still didn’t speak after several minutes, Peter got anxious and started to babble. “Look, Mr. Stark. I didn’t mean to insult your security system, but that’s no reason to take away my internship. I didn’t say anything to the reporters, I even played along, so just think about it before you fire me, please?” His voice died away the longer he was talking. “Mr.-?” “Parker, Sir.” His voice was dripping with venom as he called his boss ‘Sir’. “Mr. Parker, nobody said anything about losing the internship.” Fine, he would pack his stuff right away. He didn’t have many things at his desk, but he had to say goodbye to his coworkers at least- Wait, did he understand that right? He didn’t just get sacked? “I’m not fired?” He asked stupidly, staring at his boss with wide eyes. “No, Peter. You aren’t.” Peter didn’t comment on the familiar use of his first name, afraid to go too far so that Tony would change his mind. “But there is another thing I have to ask of you. Of course, there was a catch. Peter was talking to Tony Stark; one of the most selfish people on the entire planet. He would never let Peter get away so easily. “So, I basically told the world that you’re my ‘significant other’.” The painful expression on Tony’s face made Peter even angrier. “And I also said that you would come along to the ski event I’m hosting every year.” “Apparently,” Peter replied dryly, hoping he didn’t look too disgusted. Tony took a deep breath, his gaze fixated on Peter during his next words. “Peter, would you pretend to be my boyfriend during the event? I have to bring a date and we’ll be all over the news tomorrow anyways.”  Peter blinked, staring at his boss and waiting for him to laugh. This had to be a joke, Tony would tell him any second now, that he was just kidding. That Peter was fired. But another look at the tired face of his boss confirmed that he was actually serious. “You want me to do what?” Tony’s expression turned painful again. “I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend during the ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event. Pretty please?” Fuck. Peter started to panic. He didn’t want to play Tony Stark’s boyfriend, he didn’t want to pretend that he liked the selfish man, and he definitely didn’t want to go to the stupid event where everyone would spend the day drinking alcohol and having sex with strangers. Hell, he couldn’t even ski. The problem was, he didn’t want to lose his internship either, so the decision was made before he could think too long about the upcoming weekend.  “I don’t have anything to wear.” Peter regretted his words immediately after they had left his mouth and he blushed furiously. Tony Stark, billionaire and playboy, was asking him, Peter Parker, for a favor and he could have asked for anything in return. He could have asked for a job after his internship or let his boss squirm with discomfort with hilarious demands. But instead, he had embarrassed himself, indirectly accepting the invitation while admitting that he didn’t have enough money to buy appropriate clothes.  “Don’t worry, kid,” his boss said with a big smile which made Peter sick. “We’ll get you something tailored. That’s the least I could do, obviously.” “Obviously,” Peter mumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He hoped he had spoken quiet enough that Tony couldn’t hear it. Of course, the billionaire would take him to his personal tailor. How would it look if Tony spent time with a cheaply dressed person? At least, Tony Stark owed him something. Peter planned to take advantage of this promise. “All right.” Peter sighed, determined to get it over with. “Just tell me when and where you need me.” Tony grinned broadly as if Peter had just saved his day. Well, he probably had. The man tapped his tablet a few times. “I’ll pick you up tonight, 15th street, to take you to the tailor. Just bring yourself, I’ll bring the money.” He chuckled slightly, but the sound died down as he saw the petrified expression on Peter’s face. “Do I even need to ask how you got my address?” “Honey, you work for me. I didn’t even have to hack your phone.” A cold shiver ran down Peter’s spine and he quickly stood up to make his way out. “Don’t call me honey.” The words sounded angrier than he wanted them to. “Okay, okay.” Tony raised his hands to appease him. “Thanks again. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock.” “Goodbye, Mr. Stark.” Peter relaxed when the doors of the elevator finally closed behind him. Why did things like this always happen to him? Now he had to spend a horrible week in the middle of nowhere in Austria in the company of a man he despised. He couldn’t even get home alone if things would get too bad because there was no way he could afford a flight from Austria to the States. MJ would kill him when he would tell her how he handled the situation. The only thing he was looking forward to was the opportunity to learn how to ski.  … The elevator doors opened when Peter arrived on the ground floor, and one look at the crowded entry hall was enough for him to feel sick. Everyone was staring at him, the receptionist behind her desk, three men in expensive-looking suits at the end of the hall, even the cleaning staff stopped their work. Not even an hour had passed and the whole company knew of his ‘relationship’ with his boss. He felt like an animal in the zoo, caged in the small elevator and Peter wanted to take a lift back up, if it wouldn’t mean spending time with Tony Stark again. And he could definitely do without that. So, he gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and practically ran to the exit door. He tried not to listen, but he failed. “Isn’t he the one Tony Stark called his boyfriend? Why is a billionaire interested in someone so normal? Do you think he used sex to get his internship?” Peter heard his own blood rushing in his ears, and he swallowed, calming himself down because he didn’t want to cause a scene. They could say anything, that he is a sugar babe and just wants the billionaire’s money, but he couldn’t stand someone accusing him of getting his internship only because he had slept with the boss. Peter had worked hard for it every day. When he finally left the building, he was trembling, and his breath had quickened. Anger and fear raged inside of him, threatening to take him under and he fumbled for his phone in his backpack. It was all Tony’s fault. Of course, the billionaire would declare him his ‘significant other’ without thinking about the consequences for Peter. And now he even had to go shopping with him like a child that was allowed to buy new stuff with his Dad. The thought made his stomach churn. Tony Stark was a heartless and selfish person, but now it was too late to stay away from him. Peter was relieved when he eventually found his phone. He dialed the number of his best friend immediately. “Peter?” MJ’s voice sounded confused. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” Peter swallowed and pinched the back of his nose. How could he explain the situation? It was already a disaster. “I’m on my way home early. I have a problem.” “So bad, that you couldn’t even wait until you get home?” Now he could definitely hear concern in her voice. “Yes.” “Aight, shoot.” Peter pondered how to phrase it while he was waiting for the subway. He didn’t want all the people around him to know what’s going on. “So, you know my boss?” MJ sighed, and he could practically see her raising her eyebrows in his mind. “Pete, you know I do. You can’t spend a week without complaining about him. What’s it today?” “Hey!” She was right, MJ always was, but he had every damn right to dislike Tony Stark. The man was a plague, a curse, and the world would be better off without the playboy. Today, he had learned to hate the arrogant prick even more. When the subway arrived and Peter got in, he decided to tell it short. He didn’t have much time today because Tony-I’m-the-center-of-the-world-Stark would pick him up later. Brilliant. “You’ll read all over the news tomorrow that I am his new boyfriend.” There were a few seconds of silence before MJ started to choke and furiously coughed into the phone. “Jesus, Pete. A little warning would be nice. How did you manage to get yourself in such a situation?” “It wasn’t my fault,” Peter said defensively. “There were paparazzi following him. He wanted to escape and called me babe, asking me to keep the elevator doors open.” “He did what?” Peter wasn’t sure if MJ believed him. “I don’t know why he did it, MJ. And then there was this woman, and she started to ask questions, and then he wrapped his arms around me, and said I am his boyfriend and that I would come with him to this stupid ski event and-“ “Okay, Pete. Stop.” MJ interrupted his rambling. “Take a deep breath and tell me about it from the beginning. Peter obeyed and tried to calm himself down. He had been on edge for the last hour and becoming hysterical wouldn’t help him now. “Have you ever heard of the ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event?” MJ chuckled. “Sure, Pete. You told me about it several times while you ranted about your boss.” Peter blushed, he didn’t notice before how much he was complaining about Tony, but he still thought it was justified. “When he told the press that I am his boyfriend, the reporter asked him whether I would come to this stupid event, and he said yes. Then he begged me to come along, play his boyfriend and promised me we can break-up afterward.” MJ roared with laughter and if his boss wouldn’t be such an asshole, he might have smiled himself. However, things were how they were, and Peter wished he could disappear for a week for the millionth time. MJ was still giggling, but she regained the better part of her control. “Peter, you can just say no. I don’t think he would fire you for that. Just tell him it’s your aunt’s birthday or something like that.” Peter paused. He hadn’t thought about that before. The fear of losing his internship had apparently switched off his brain and now he could hit himself for that. “It might be too late,” Peter confessed sheepishly while he got off the subway at his stop. “I didn’t react that well.” The silence that followed was uncomfortable. “What did you say, Peter?” He considered hanging up for a moment just to avoid her reaction, but it was better to get it over with while they were just calling. MJ would let him know her opinion anyway and it was easier when he didn’t have to look at her. “I might have told him that I have nothing to wear and now he is taking me to his personal tailor later.” Peter heard a loud thud, probably MJ banging her head on the table and it was followed by a long groan. “Peter.” “I know.” He started to panic, he didn’t want to fly to Austria, he didn’t want to spend a weekend in an overly expensive hotel and he definitely didn’t want to keep the mighty Tony Stark company. “MJ, I don’t want to go.” It was silent for a second and whatever he had expected, it wasn’t this. “You think you’ll lose your internship if you cancel?” “Yes.” “Do you want to lose your internship?” “No, of course not.” “Then stop whining like a child and enjoy the money your boss will be spending on you. Peter, you already said yes. Get over your stupid disgust and keep your promises.” Peter sulked for a second. He knew she was right and he needed to hear that, but it was so difficult to swallow the feelings. Just once, the billionaire should be let down. He should see what it feels like if you couldn’t buy something with money, that the world wasn’t centered around him. But Peter had already agreed, so there was no other option. “Fine, I’ll go. But for the record, I’m going to bug you with all my complaints in the next few days.” MJ snorted loudly. “As if that would make a difference; you already do it anyway.” Hey, that wasn’t fair. “Jerk.” “Coward.” He had to smile a little. At least he knew she would kick his ass if he would fuck something up. He adored his best friend, even when she was bossy sometimes. “Love you.” “Love you, too, Pete. Enjoy the weekend with your Sugar Daddy.” He hung up without saying goodbye. … Peter paced through his room. It’s a few minutes before six and all his mind could focus on was the fact that he was going to go to Austria. With Tony Stark. This weekend. Shit. He looked up the area and as gorgeous as it is, the whole situation was incredibly daunting. The nearest airport is Innsbruck. He figured that’d be important to know, should he need to get away. He got so caught up in his research, that he forgot the time. He can’t help it that Innsbruck is one of the hardest airports to land on because of the steep descent between all the mountains and the heavy updrafts? There are only a couple pilots who can actually fly via Innsbruck because the landing is deemed incredibly difficult and dangerous. That’s nuts! Ah, dang it, he was doing it again. But then, he’d rather think about the awesome videos of aircrafts landing and taking off at Innsbruck Airport than what he was about to do. Go shopping. With Tony Stark. Shit. Peter wanted to wear something at least slightly presentable, but with his measly college student budget, he didn’t have anything that could impress the CEO of his internship company. Who was Peter even kidding? Why would he want to impress Mr. Stark? The man barely glanced at him when they first met all those months ago. Peter looked up to him so much and when they first met, Tony straight up ignored him. He’s an asshole. Right? Popping the news to May was a whole other thing. Peter decided to only give his aunt half-truths, opting to keep the “fake dating” side of the story a secret. She was ecstatic, though. Her nephew was going to Austria for Tony Stark’s charity event! Ugh. She immediately rushed to the set of drawers in the living room to dust off his passport that he barely used and started gathering her inflatable cushion and other items that would make the flight more comfortable. While he appreciated May and everything she did for him, part of Peter wanted for none of this to be necessary. Why did he agree to this again? ... A strange combined rush of excitement and embarrassment washed over Peter when Tony rocked up to the poor student’s apartment building in his gigantic, polished Audi. Mr. Stark roared the engines a few times and Peter wasn’t sure if it was to get his attention or everybody else’s. Peter pretended he didn’t see his neighbors, who were walking their dog, watch him climb into the passenger’s seat of the insanely expensive sports car. He was quietly grateful that the windows were blinded. “Hey, kid,” Tony quipped. “Hey.” It stayed quiet, save for the car rumbling like a hunting lioness. Peter’s mind raced. He was in a car. With Tony Stark. Shit. Everything about this seemed so unreal, like a dream of which he couldn’t decide whether it was good or bad. The smell of the leather interior of the car tickled the insides of his nose and his fingers fiddled with the fabric of his jeans. Why weren’t they moving yet? Why wasn’t Tony driving? What is Mr. Stark waiting for? Oh, God. When Peter finally dared to turn his head to look at his boss, the man was staring back at him over his blue-tinted glasses with his eyebrows raised. “W-what?” Peter managed to stutter. Tony nodded at Peter’s chest and briefly mentioned what it was lacking. “Seatbelt.” ... “So,” Tony said after clearing his throat. The car ride had been silent and relatively awkward up until now. “I read up on you in your files, but you, Peter Parker, are very hard to read in person.” Peter pressed his lips on top of each other, forcing himself to keep looking out the window instead of at Mr. Stark. It’s not like Peter had a solid reply to that remark anyways. “If we’re going to do this, we’re gonna at least have to talk to each other.” “I know,” Peter sighed. He used the palm of his hand to rub his forehead while squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s just a lot all at once, okay?” Peter turned his head to look at Tony, only to find he wasn’t even holding the wheel of the car. It was driving itself. Peter stared at it wide-eyed. Tony cocked his head and showed a toothy grin with only one corner of his mouth curled up. “I like to tinker more than anything.” Great, Peter just voiced how insecure he is about all of this and Tony once again managed to turn the conversation to himself. “Modern Da Vinci,” Peter quoted the news sites, hoping that stroking his boss’s ego would help the situation. “Whoever said that is a liar,” Tony dismissed, tracing the leather of the wheel with his index fingers. Peter couldn’t help but stare at the rough hands and the way they caressed their property. Peter’s mouth went dry. He wanted – no, needed – to remind himself why his teenage crush on the man had crumbled. However, Peter couldn’t help how unfairly hot his boss was, even when he was nearing his fifties. Tony looked back up at Peter with raised eyebrows. “I don’t paint.” “Maybe you should.” Peter could hit himself. What was that kind of an answer? “I mean I could always just throw some grease on a canvas and call it art. Shit sells as long as you’re already rich and call it art.” “A lucrative business.” “Eh.” Tony shrugged. “I’m already surrounded by enough pretentious snobs. My art collection’s completely managed by my secretary.” Peter barely managed to hold in a snort. Pretentious snobs. Had the man never looked in a mirror? Or listened to himself talk? Tony pushed a hand through his hair and shifted in his seat so he could face Peter more easily. “Look, kid, I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” “To be honest, Mr. Stark, I’m not sure if you are.” The words left Peter’s mouth before he could think them through and he quietly sucked in a breath. “What are you implying?” Tony’s tone is slightly threatening and Peter bit his lip with frustration when his body betrayed him, as the blood started rushing to his member. Why was Tony’s authoritative voice so hot? It wasn’t fair. “You called me ‘babe’ in front of all the paparazzi.” “Honest mistake.” “Honest mist-“ Peter pressed his lips on top of each other to keep himself from finishing his sarcastic parroting. “Right.” “I’m not gonna lie, I wouldn’t have called you that if you weren’t as pretty as you are- God!” Tony dropped himself back against his seat and groaned. “I’m bad at this, okay? I figured I’d have a date- someone actually willing- for this stupid event, but I don’t.” Stark straightened his shoulders and glanced at Peter. “And it’s selfish of me to think that I can just ask anybody and that they’ll drop whatever they’re doing to help me. So, if you don’t want this, just tell me ‘kay? I’m big on consent. I’ll just pay some other guy to do this. You’re obviously uncomfortable.” “Stupid event?” “Is that literally all you got from that?” Tony scoffed. Peter squinted slightly but swallowed his snarky reply. Tony sighed. “This Valentine’s event was set up when I was still with Pepper and it’s been an annual thing for over twelve years now. The charity celebrates love.” Tony spoke animatedly, the movement of his hands emphasizing his words. “The event has one rule that I stupidly decided to implement when I was a cocky engaged prick.” He paused, blinking twice. “No donating when you’re single.” “Why not change the rule?” “Cause that’s even more selfish than implementing it in front of all of your single friends when drunk and enforcing it all the years you do have a relationship with a woman you don’t even love.” Tony pressed his lips into a tight, ingenuine smile and faced the road again. It faltered and the tired CEO Peter had seen earlier today is back. “This is one of the events I spend a lot of dollars on because I know how difficult love is. But with that said, I don’t want you or anybody to feel forced into this. Just say the word, kid, I’ll drop you off back at your apartment and I’ll be out of your hair.” It was quiet for a second before Peter’s shoulders relaxed and he eased back into the chair. Tony didn’t necessarily want Peter as a tool to show off. Tony wanted Peter so he could donate to his own charity event. Kind of weird, but not... Bad. It was weird how Peter kept creating images of who his boss is in his head that always ended up being contradictory to the truth. When he was younger his mind deemed Tony a hero. His teen self revered the man as a sex symbol. The first week of his internship was a dream come true and after the “Hi there, Mr. Stark, I wanted to thank you for-” “Don’t have time for you, bye.” incident it all turned sour. His adoration turned to distaste. The man was a selfish asshole to Peter for so long. And now... Now he was telling Peter all of this? That he’s... Good? In a way? It was all so confusing. But at least it made Peter hate the situation less. He knew this year’s charity was for LGBTQ+ youth, so Tony wanting to donate to the cause this badly must mean something. And it also meant a lot to Peter. He could definitely suck up and bask in a week of luxury and wealth and take the rich pricks for what they are if it means Tony pays the charity a good chunk of his cash stack. “So, how long ‘til we reach the tailor?” Peter said, looking straight ahead and trying to hide a smile. Tony didn’t even bother to conceal his happiness at Peter’s remark and sat back to enjoy the ride as well. “Couple of minutes.” … Even though Peter was cautious because he didn’t want to be let down again, he felt himself loosening up to Tony a little more as the evening went on. He couldn’t help it; the billionaire was charming and funny and smart... Peter rarely met anyone who was this easy to talk to. Mr. Stark seemed pleasantly surprised when Peter genuinely laughed at his niche joke about hydraulic engines and Peter even quipped one about thermal physics himself when discussing the clothes they’d be wearing on the pistes. Tony’s laugh was on loop in his brain for the next five minutes the tailor spent measuring each inch of Peter’s body. He made Tony Stark laugh. Something inside Peter stirred when the man behind the till told Tony what the tailored suit was going to cost. The stirring turned into something more when Stark handed the man his black credit card and waved it off. Three months of rent in Manhattan. For a suit. The next store Tony drove them to sold all kinds of winter gear. Peter said he’d be okay with just one outfit, but Tony wouldn’t hear it. Peter had to wear something different every day of the week. There was something about Tony staring at Peter’s body in the skin-tight thermal wear that made Peter turn his lower body away from the billionaire. Because the ‘more’ had turned to ‘even more’ at this point. And Peter didn’t want Tony to see what the tight clothes couldn’t hide. The clothes were starting to layer and pile. Store after store was visited and Peter was only allowed to fit the most expensive pieces of clothing. Cashmere turtlenecks and silk jackets, leather and suede shoes, even soft cotton underwear. Everything Peter would wear and carry had Tony’s money all over it. Peter ended up with multiple outfits for every day of the trip. He was never one for shopping, but Tony’s eyes staring at him, judging him, and his soft lips telling him to make a turn, and complimenting him, had Peter dizzy by the time they left the last store. He could barely contain a thrust of his hips and hold back a moan when Tony placed a hand on his shoulder at the last store as he handed the black credit card to the salesman who just scored the jackpot for his provisional sales percentage. “All for him,” Tony had said. Peter’s tailored suits would be express shipped to their hotel in Gerlos, as would all the ski gear. Once again, all Peter had to bring was himself. It was strange. Peter had to remind himself that Tony was doing all of this for a reason. If Peter feels confident and looks good, he’ll be a better and more convincing boyfriend. He was silently being bribed, Peter was sure of it. No matter how kind Tony may seem, he’s still the ass Peter met that one day. Certainly.

[sunshinebunnie]

Together, Tomorrow Chapter 17 (Sneak Peek--Part 2)

“It’s so good to see you up and about,” Cheryl said breezily, earning a shocked cough from Veronica and an indulgent head shake from Toni. Oblivious to the reactions of her comment, she continued on, “I’ve been meaning to thank you. Your klutziness has been such a boost for my brand! If you believe TMZ, I’m practically being considered for sainthood…” Betty fought to keep her face neutral as her eyes scanned the rest of the room. Jughead had told her enough stories of the Blossom heiress’ lack of tact for her not to fall prey to her knee jerk sense of shock, but she didn’t fully trust Veronica or Polly not to jump wildly to her defense. Luckily, Toni was equally aware of the need for a “Cherry Bomb” translator, and quickly jumped in with, “What my Cher-bear meant is that a photographer took a couple pictures of her and I helping you after you fell. Apparently, they didn’t realize we knew you and Jughead, so the headlines were very positive about Cheryl’s apparent willingness to help a stranger. It was nice bit of free publicity that for once wasn’t dissecting our wedding plans or our relationship...or speculating on whether Cheryl bathes in the blood of virgins to maintain her complexion.” Cheryl preened at Toni’s compliment while casually twirling the ends of the woman’s magenta hair, perfectly ignorant of the apologetic look Jughead’s best friend was silently willing Betty to accept. 

Betty was on the verge of telling Toni not to worry about it when Polly’s shocked voice broke through from her spot on the floor in a pool of late morning light, “Wait a minute...Cheryl Blossom? As in the House of Blossom lingerie line?” 

Cheryl sat up pin straight inadvertently yanking her fingers out of her fiancée’s hair in the process. Betty shared a sympathetic winch with Toni as the ombré-haired woman lightly rubbed the sore spot on her skull. The infamous Cherry Bomb eyed the older Cooper woman skeptically as she waited for Polly to continue speaking. Polly was perfectly happy to oblige as she continued on, “I love your clothes! It’s part of my ritual—whenever I know my husband is coming home from a deployment, I always order a couple new sets to surprise him with. He especially loves your signature red and white collection.” Betty let out a groan that was echoed by Veronica complaining, “God, Polly! Some of us actually know J.J. I do not need that image!”

Cheryl ignored their comments as she replied, “Oh, yes. That’s my most popular line. The peek-a-boo lace was actually inspired by Toni—so I could see more of her as I seduced her.” 

It was Toni’s turn to groan as she muttered, “And we’re going to have to have another talk about boundaries.” 

Polly’s attention never strayed from Cheryl as she contemplated her next words carefully. Just as it seemed she was going to stop at the compliment, she sucked in a breath in a way that Betty knew usually meant trouble. Before Betty could stop her, her older sister said, “It’s just such a shame the line is so limited.” 

With the notable exception of Archie, the room held its collective breath as a small twitch started at the corner of Cheryl’s eyebrow and her smile slowly turned feral. “Limited?” the fiery redhead hissed with barely constrained malevolence.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

So....I know I promised all you wonderful lovelies the next chapter like last week. Unfortunately, writers’ block and a side project lured me into a van and left me stranded in the middle of a muddy field. However! I am pleased to say that work on Chapter 17 has recommenced, and to make it up to all you amazing wonderful people who’ve been SO extremely kind to me on this journey, please enjoy this extended sneak peek with my compliments! 😁😁😁😁😁

In case you’ve just stumbled across this through Tumblr’s algorithmic magic, and you’re curious as to what this is all about, please STEP RIGHT THIS WAY to begin your journey. Inside you will find a strangers-to-roommates-to-lovers epically sllooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwww burn that will also give you smut fo’ days! Angsty cliffhangers! Alice Cooper for Satan 2019! Attempted arson! And other assorted shenanigans for your amusement and enjoyment. 😁😁😁😁😁

[lisatelramor]

Not Left To Stand Alone Ch4

The next two days passed quickly. Takumi didn’t test him Tuesday, spending the day watching him instead, but Wednesday brought another prank and a strike on Takumi’s record. Saguru could feel Takumi’s eyes on him, challenging him to do his worst, but that was part of the problem. No one knew what they could and could not get away with yet, and until they did, there would be students like Takumi testing Saguru’s limits. Teaching in Japan was very different than England, but it brought back nostalgia along with a healthy helping of sympathy for his teachers. There was all the more reason to appreciate the attentive students when students fell asleep, passed notes, or blatantly read manga, used to this being mostly ignored. Saguru planned to introduce the manga readers to English comic strips. That way if they read in his class at least it would be something English related.

Troublemakers aside, things were settling into a pattern the way things always did. Saguru always felt better with a routine. His currently routine wasn’t the healthiest of patterns at the moment. He woke up, had tea and breakfast, went to work, came home, sat in a daze, made dinner, and went to bed, but it was a pattern nevertheless. Kuroba’s presence was welcome as a variable in the pattern. He could see the year stretching ahead in a set formula, and it might not be where he thought he’d be a year ago, but it would be a stable formula. That was what Saguru needed most at the moment.

Saguru heard sirens that night as he sat up, grading his first homework papers. They went on for half an hour, passing in one direction and then another. Saguru was sure Kid was leading the task force on a merry chase. Ten minutes after midnight as Saguru laid in his futon, he heard Kuroba return. He only noticed because he was listening for it, the light click of a door opening, a few seconds of water running on the other side of the wall. There was a series of faint popping noises Saguru classified as the glider being packed away. The tiny, quiet sounds next door continued for another ten minutes and then all was still. Saguru wondered if Kuroba still had a partner. He had had one during high school, but now? Saguru could only hope Kuroba had someone watching his back that he could trust not to put a bullet in it.

***

Homeroom had been suspiciously quiet. In the past two weeks, Saguru had found that homeroom tended to be a bit chaotic. After morning tasks were over, students tended to chat and, inevitably, Saguru would find Takumi studying him across the room whenever classmates weren’t occupying his attention. The most intent scrutiny would eventually lead to a prank, something small, like the chalk going missing from the blackboard or pens replaced with odd colors some time during his English class. Twice Saguru had caught Takumi pulling something more elaborate, intercepting a glitter bomb before it made its way into his desk and easily tracing back the hoard plastic spiders that fell from a propped ceiling tile to their source. Takumi didn’t seem to be trying hard to hide his efforts, and his classmates seemed torn between humor and confusion.

It was enough to guess that this wasn’t usual behavior.

Which meant Takumi definitely didn’t like Saguru or was trying to prove something, and it wasn’t clear what that was yet.

But today had been quiet and Saguru was on edge because of it. Takumi had focused on his desk instead of staring him down, and the break of pattern was enough to have Saguru braced. Saguru’s back was to the class, diagramming a sentence with notations in Japanese. He reached the end of the line, the itch between his shoulder blades leaning toward paranoia, and turned in time to see the room fill with a puff of smoke. A light weight settled around him, barely noticeable except that his senses were on overtime. When the smoke cleared, Takumi wasn’t even bothering to pretend that someone else did it. He met Saguru’s eyes and smirked. It was such a Kuroba expression that Saguru wanted to laugh. Unfortunately that would be both inappropriate and counterproductive at the moment.

The classroom was so quiet he could have heard a mouse run across the floor. Then one girl toward the back of the room started giggling, trying and failing to stifle the sound as she slumped down in her desk.

Saguru sighed and pulled out the hand mirror he had in his pocket just in case he needed it for moments like this. There was a thin, rather tastefully done layer of makeup on Saguru’s face and a chin-length wig on his head which explained why his head felt heavier and his cheek itched. For the life of him, Saguru couldn’t figure out how Takumi—who sat in the middle of the room—had managed to put a wig and makeup on Saguru in ten-odd seconds it took for the smoke to disperse without Saguru feeling him do it. Surely he should have felt the lipstick at the very least? Then again, Saguru had never figured out how Kuroba managed to dye his hair green on multiple occasions and (a memory that still had Saguru feeling embarrassed) dressed him in women’s lingerie during a Kid heist. So it was an impressive prank, and were it to someone else at another time, Saguru would have appreciated it for the skill it held.

Instead, Saguru snapped the mirror shut and pulled a wet wipe from his briefcase to clean the makeup off. He took the wig off, a bit amused at how it had brought out his resemblance to Mum, and made a notation in what he’d heard at least one student call the ‘black book.’ That taken care of, he let his gaze travel across the classroom, one eyebrow pointedly raised. Their giggling trailed off uncertainly. Obviously they expected an explosion. He wasn’t giving them one. “Kuroba-kun, please see me at the end of the school day.”

“Sports tryouts are today, sensei,” Takumi said, shoulders rigid.

Well he should have thought about that before choosing today to pull that prank, Saguru thought. Outward, he smiled thinly. “Then please come see me during your lunch break.”

He turned back to the blackboard and continued on with the lesson like nothing had happened. The class was quiet for the rest of the lesson. Takumi spent the whole time slouched at his desk with a scowl breaking through the edges of an imperfect impassive face. If it was Kuroba, Saguru would be worried that an escalation of pranks was coming at any moment, but Saguru hoped there was more of Aoko’s temperament in Takumi than Kuroba in this regard. Aoko had disrupted class in high school too, but it had always been in an attempt to control Kuroba and follow rules.

***

The rest of the morning passed without incident. It was quiet enough that Saguru had to wonder if rumors were flying already. When he reached the teacher’s room for lunch, Takata was already at her desk, flipping papers idly.

“So, rumor has it you stone-walled your way through a prank and kids are throwing rumors that you wouldn’t react if a bomb went off.”

“Is that what they’re saying?” Saguru sat heavily at his desk, rubbing at his bad knee. It was doing better than last week, but a persistent, dull ache wasn’t much better than the sharp and sudden pains that over-stressing it brought about.

“Did a student really get a wig on you?”

“And a face of makeup.”

“Damn.” Takata looked impressed. “I’m glad he’s in your class not mine.”

Saguru snorted. “I doubt he’d give you problems; I seem to be the only person he takes issue with.”

“Well that sucks.”

At the door, Saguru could see Takumi debating whether or not to walk over. “Speaking of said student, I need to have a talk.”

Takata followed his eyes. “Good luck.” There was an aborted motion that probably would have been a supportive pat on the shoulder, but it was reigned in almost immediately. If they were more familiar, he doubted she’d have thought twice, but after years of teaching and living in Japan, she was probably more hesitant about casual contact. The thought was appreciated though.

Saguru made himself comfortable and waved Takumi over. Takumi crossed the space between them with his head held high and his shoulder braced for whatever might come.

“Well?” he said once he was next to Saguru’s desk. “I have three marks now. What’s the penalty?”

Saguru waited a moment before answering. Takumi had relaxed into a casual slouch beside Saguru’s desk, but he was no expert in hiding body language; his shoulders were curled forward a bit and his hands in his pockets to still any instinctive fidgeting. He had a faint bruise on his chin that was only noticeable this close, probably from lacrosse, and his jaw was too tight to be anything but nervous and defensive. He was probably ready to be indignant no matter what the punishment was. Saguru laced his fingers together in his lap and sat back.

“For one, I plan to speak with both of your parents. While it is your responsibility to control your actions in school, I prefer to speak with family as well as my student when an issue arises.”

Takumi snorted. “Good luck getting them in the same room long enough to listen.”

“I can speak to them separately just as easily.”

“That’s it?” His shoulders relaxed minutely.

Saguru narrowed his eyes. “No.” He pulled a printout from the meager pile of papers on his desk. “If you can translate this by the end of the week and answer the questions on the back, your count will return to zero and you’ll gain an extra credit point.”

“And if I don’t do the sheet?” Takumi asked.

“You lose a point from your grades and have a detention after school. In addition, your count remains the same—meaning we’ll be having a lot more discussions with any future class disruptions.” At Takumi’s disgruntled expression, Saguru added, “I will also be less likely to consider your convenience in scheduling future talks.” It wasn’t a perfect system and Saguru knew it could be exploited. It was more to make his students think before they kept acting out. With an added bonus of small rewards for cooperating. If they didn’t, well, Saguru’s translation projects only got harder as the checks increased.

He held out the worksheet. Takumi took it with a scowl. “I’ll be calling your mother tonight, and I can meet with your father at his convenience. Do you want to be present for either discussion?”

Takumi looked at him like he grew a second head, all silent defiance gone in a moment of teenage horror. “No. I’d have to put up with Kaa-san’s eye rolls and Tou-san’s thumbs up whenever you look away. Tou-san likes when I play pranks.” Takumi went red and clamped his mouth shut like he hadn’t meant to say any of that.

Saguru raised an eyebrow, laughing inside even as he kept as straight a face as he could. That sounded like Kuroba all right. “Unless your mother has changed a lot over the last sixteen years, I can’t imagine she’d be near as...supportive as Kuroba.”

Takumi frowned and after a moment Saguru realized he must have been puzzling over the lack of honorific and whether it signified intimacy or a lack of respect.

Saguru cleared his throat. “That’s due Friday at the start of homeroom.” Saguru waved a hand at the paper getting wrinkled in Takumi’s grip. “Before you leave, may I ask why you decided to pull these pranks in my class?” They weren’t for attention, though Saguru supposed that could be at least part of the motivation. The fact that it was only Saguru getting pranked meant it was something personal, a challenge perhaps, but he wanted to hear Takumi’s motives in his own words.

Takumi looked at Saguru and for a moment there was a glimpse of emotion in his expression, something like desperation and anger and hurt before it was locked away and Takumi’s eyes flickered between Saguru’s light-colored hair and bad leg.

“You’re different and I don’t really like you,” he said, but the words didn’t hold any of the emotion hidden under his bland expression. They rang hollow, false. Gut instinct said it was a lie, but Saguru didn’t call him on it. “Can I go eat lunch now, Hakuba-sensei?” Takumi asked, for all the world looking like nothing more than a petulant teenager with nothing more complicated than irritation at authority going on.

Saguru sighed. “You may go.”

Takumi left with only the barest sketch of a bow, walking away like he was afraid Saguru might try to pry his secrets from him.

“Wow,” Takata said once he was gone. “I hope he isn’t like that for me next year.”

Saguru hummed, noncommittal. She wasn’t likely to have any problems with Takumi at all. Whatever this was, it was personal, and until he figured out what to do about it, he would have to see where events would unfold.

***

“So,” Kuroba said from Saguru’s chair when Saguru arrived home. “I hear Takumi got in trouble at school?”

Saguru blinked at him, one hand still on the light switch. He sighed, continued the motion of stepping into the room and dumped his briefcase on the counter. “It is nice to see you’re still consistent in your breaking and entering, Kuroba,” he said, going and filling the kettle with water and preparing things for tea.

Kuroba pouted, looking remarkably similar to when Takumi interacted with a friend that afternoon. “You didn’t even jump.”

“I’m more than used to your antics,” Saguru replied with a small smile. Or at least he used to be and some part of his brain still expected the unexpected with Kuroba. “Well. At any rate, this saves me the trouble of asking to meet with you.” Kuroba looked comfortable and immovable in Saguru’s chair. “You’re not giving up the chair are you?”

“Nope,” Kuroba said. There was the tiniest bit of sadism in his cheerful smile. Saguru sighed and went to the bathroom for painkillers to go with the tea. Because he needed them after so long on his feet without any sign of resting his bad leg in the near future. If he tried to sit on the floor, Saguru was sure he wouldn’t be able to stand back up because his knee would lock up. Kuroba watched the process and didn’t budge an inch from where he lounged in the chair. Saguru really needed to invest in another chair.

“So,” Saguru said once the tea was prepared and steaming from two Sherlock Holmes-themed novelty mugs students had given him some five or six years ago. “How did you find out? I haven’t called Aoko yet, and Takumi-kun isn’t likely to tell you without prompting.”

“I keep track of the school gossip network. And I might be friends with some of the other faculty due to happy coincidence of being in a hostage situation with them at one point or another.”

“As yourself or someone else?” Saguru asked to cover for his discomfort at the thought of anyone holding Kuroba hostage. Actually, no, he pitied anyone who tried. They probably regretted it quickly.

“Myself thankfully, so it’s not strange to keep in contact with them as Kuroba Kaito.” Kuroba rested his chin on his hands, his cup of tea set aside for the moment. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about.”

“No, it isn’t.” Saguru let the mug warm his fingers, wishing the warmth would sink into his bones so that maybe they wouldn’t ache. He leaned against the counter awkwardly, balancing the curve of his spine against it so that most of his weight was on his good leg.

“What did Takumi do?”

“If your rumor network was any good, I would think you would already know.”

“Oh I do. I just want to hear your impressions of it.”

Saguru scowled at him. Kuroba looked entirely unrepentant. “Takumi-kun performed a series of pranks against my person that disrupted the learning environment, presumably with intent to humiliate me publicly. I do not believe that was the original intent of the first prank. That was more of an initiation to test my reaction, but subsequent pranks were aimed at me in a personal manner.”

Kuroba nodded. “And?”

“And today he magicked makeup on me and waited for a reaction. He’s trying to test something, and I think he dislikes me for reasons beyond me being his English teacher and… being ‘different.’”

Kuroba sat up straighter, looking serious for the first time. “He said he pranked you because you’re different?”

“Yes.” Saguru took a sip of tea, letting the sharp taste roll along his tongue and down his throat. Good thing, tea. It was a constant no matter the rest of Saguru’s life being turned on end. “I do not think you need to worry about him becoming a bully,” Saguru said, following the troubled expression on Kuroba’s face to a line of thought that would be its cause. “It might be the reason he gave, but I doubt it was the actual reason. Now other students I can believe it from, but it doesn’t ring true with what I’ve observed of him in other situations. He gets along with just about everyone else so far as I’ve seen. Including the eclectic group in the literature club and its leader.”

“You met Shiemi, then?”

“I’m the literature club advisor.”

“Oh.” Kuroba tilted his head. “Well that’ll be interesting. Shiemi’s a force of her own. Takumi’s been friends with her since they were born more or less. She was a pretty quiet kid. Don’t know what changed, but she’s...definitely not quiet now.”

Saguru chuckled into his teacup. There was a story in Kuroba’s expression, but he wasn’t going to dig now. “I gave Takumi-kun two passes where he did not get any punishment, and the third lead to parental discussions and extra homework. I think I’ve been more than fair in the situation.”

“Three strikes you’re out, huh?” Kuroba sighed. “He doesn’t usually act out. I can count the number of times we’ve gotten complaints on one hand for him disrupting class with magic. I was getting calls every other day and the only reason I didn’t get kicked out was because Kaa-san had connections.”

“Could you perhaps talk with him about it?” Saguru asked. “Perhaps you could find out what is bothering him.”

“He probably won’t talk with me.” Kuroba shrugged. “He thinks I don’t take anything seriously.”

“That is likely your own fault, Kuroba.”

“It is.” Kuroba shrugged again. “It keeps him from looking too closely, and sometimes it’s better that way than him finding out all the secrets Aoko and I have buried between us.”

“Takumi-kun is your son, I am not going to judge you for how you raised him.”

“Sure you’re not.” Kuroba stretched and hopped out of the chair. “All yours. Sorry for the inquisition. Had to make sure you weren’t projecting me on Takumi.”

“When have I ever judged someone for their parents’ behavior?” Saguru asked mildly. He moved to the chair and sat. Blissful relief.

“You haven’t had a history with anyone quite the same way you had a history with me so far as I know.”

“Point.” Saguru finished off his tea. “By the way, you’re back early.”

“I took off early to talk to you. I have plenty of time off saved up. I can get away with going home early every once in a while.” Kuroba stretched and yawned. “You’d better call Aoko soon. She can tell when Takumi is in trouble and will get his whole story from him by the end of the night.”

“I was planning on it after dinner.” Saguru glanced at the clock. Six thirty-four. Another late meal then.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer. I have to make my own dinner.” Kuroba waved and sauntered toward the door. His empty mug was left near the dish drainer. “Oh,” he said from the doorway. “I got your groceries. You should really go shopping once a week rather than letting the list get that long. You can’t get all that in one trip with that leg.”

He took a step out, then popped his head around the corner. “One more thing; that prank. How did it rate?”

Saguru blinked at him. “...A four using you as a measure.”

Kuroba grinned. “I knew he was working on something new. He inherited the talent. Later, Hakuba!”

The door clicked shut behind him. Saguru stared after him before levering himself up and opening his refrigerator. Sure enough there were fresh vegetables, strawberries, and takeout ramen with a note on top with a Kid caricature grinning up at him. It was a bit surreal and reminded him of high school when he had gone home after a heist and found cold medicine on his desk with orders to take two pills before going to bed to keep the case of sniffles he had had that day from becoming a full blown cold. The cupboards were similarly stocked. Saguru returned to the note in the fridge and found that it was a list of prices and an explanation that Kuroba had borrowed his bank card to pay for the cost. Delivery was “free of charge.” Saguru wasn’t sure how to feel about Kuroba getting ahold of his bank card.

Saguru reheated the takeout and ate it feeling safe that Kuroba hadn’t dosed it with anything this time at least. He wouldn’t have bought Saguru groceries just to drug takeout ramen. He would have to ask Kuroba where the ramen came from. It was better than most places he had tried and, if the price next to it was any indication, it was much more affordable than his first choice for ramen in the past—a place that might not even exist anymore.

***

After washing the takeout bowl (it could always be used to store leftovers) Saguru called Aoko. It took a bit of searching to find her number. When Saguru was assigned his homeroom class, he was given their phone numbers, but he hadn’t memorized them, and the paper was stuck to another one with rice. He couldn’t fathom how rice had gotten on the paper as he ate neatly and did not leave his work papers lying around, but by the time he finally found it and dialed Aoko’s number, the only thing Saguru wanted to do was sleep. And really, really not think about how he hadn’t even pretended to get angry at Kuroba for breaking into his house and buying food with Saguru’s money. Not. Going. To think about it.

The phone picked up on the other end after the third ring. “Moshi moshi, Kuroba residence, Takumi speaking.”

“Good evening, Kuroba-kun, is your mother available? It’s Hakuba.”

“Oh.” The other end of the line went silent and for a second Saguru thought Takumi had hung up, but then there was a sigh. “Just a minute.”

Saguru yanked his ear away from the phone as it shrieked, coming in contact with some surface as it was set down. There were echoey footsteps and then voices, just far enough away from the receiver that only the inflection could be heard.

“Hello? Hakuba-san?” Aoko said on the other end of the phone. She sounded tired. It might have something to do with the Kid notice that had appeared in the paper this morning. Her task force would be running around deciphering the note and preparing security the best they could.

“A—” He stopped. He had no idea how to address her. Kuroba-san? Nakamori-san because that was how he knew her in school? Aoko—especially without an honorific—was too familiar and disrespectful even if it was how he thought of her in his mind. “Hello.”

“It’s been a long time,” she said, taking the problem of words out of his hands. “You’re Takumi’s English teacher aren’t you?”

“Yes. It seemed…best to leave England for the time being. I had a teaching license.”

“Ah.”

It wasn’t like with Kuroba. Maybe he had never really gotten to know Aoko. Back then he had found her cute and mostly overlooked her. She was a factor in understanding Kuroba so he had gotten to know her only so far as he needed to learn more about Kuroba. Saguru regretted it a bit now. He never saw what Kuroba did in her, and he doubted he would get the second chance to get to know her.

He cleared his throat. “I’m calling because there have been a few incidents in class with Takumi-kun. Of, ah, our high school days variety.”

Silence from the other end.

“Na—Ku—damn it, how should I address you?”

Aoko made a noise, one that sounded alarming over the phone without an expression to reference against.

“Are you all right?”

The noise became recognizable snickering. Saguru frowned at the wall trying to figure out what on earth was going through her brain.

“And all—this time,” Aoko said between giggles, “I thought Takumi took more after Kaito except for his disciplinary record. I guess not.”

“Ah.”

Aoko’s giggles trailed off with a not so happy sigh. “Call me Aoko-san. I’m sure it’s a lot easier than trying to think of me as a Kuroba.” She sighed again. “So Takumi was doing magic tricks in class. Do I want to ask how bad?”

“A four on Kuroba’s scale of mayhem,” Saguru said, trying to keep his voice light. “They were directed at me, however, which both disrupted the class and undermined my position of authority. I expected to have students test me, but Takumi-kun’s methods tend to attract more attention than most students who act out.”

“I see. I’ll have a talk with him. He knows what I think of him getting his father’s record. I can’t promise that it won’t happen again.”

“I don’t expect you to promise that.” Saguru felt a smile on his lips, genuine and nostalgic. “I think living through Kuroba in high school prepared me for anything.”

“You’d be surprised. Takumi has caught Kaito off guard before.” She sounded sad again, though with the same nostalgic tone Saguru had. “Was there property damage or…?”

“No, nothing like that. Mostly flash and dazzle. No injuries or destruction, and no hurt feelings.” So long as no one was counting mild embarrassment as hurt feelings.

“I’m glad.” Silence hung heavy through still air. Static crackled faintly. Saguru listened to Aoko breathe, slow and steady. She cleared her throat. “Um, Hakuba-san…I’m sorry I never believed you in high school.”

Saguru clenched his phone tight enough that the plastic creaked against his ear. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why are you apologizing?” She laughed, and it almost sounded like it rang true. If he didn’t hear the slight catch in her inhale, he would have believed it. “You knew. Before anyone else figured it out you knew and I suspected, but I pushed that suspicion aside. It was Kaito. How could I have trusted your word over his?”

Something in her voice made Saguru want to hug her. To hold her and tell her that it would be okay, not in a romantic way, but because she sounded like a woman who had had the rug pulled out from under her. He had met people who sounded like that on murder scenes with their loved one the victim. But he couldn’t give her a hug, and even if he had been by her side, he doubted she would have accepted. Aoko was stubborn and had her pride. He couldn’t deny her that. Instead he said, “You loved him.”

“I still do,” she whispered. “I just hate him more.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Don’t.” Aoko sighed. “You aren’t going to arrest him are you?”

“I’m just an English teacher,” he said gently. “I haven’t been a fully licensed detective in almost fourteen years.”

“He’s mine,” Aoko said, strangely calm now. “If he gets caught. If he gets shot by anyone. It’s going to be by me. Okay?”

“Yes.” He had long given up any claim in chasing Kid.

“Good. It’s good to hear from you Hakuba-san. I hope we can talk again sometime. Keep an eye on Kaito. Just in case.”

Saguru felt a bit cold. ‘If he gets shot…’ “I’ll do that. Have a good evening, Aoko-san.”

The phone line clicked off on the other end. His cell phone beeped at him. He hung up. The phone slid through his fingers and thudded against the tatami. Saguru ran a hand through his hair. There was a spill on the table in a crescent shape from his earlier bowl of ramen. Next door was the murmur of a television, kept thoughtfully low in Kuroba’s apartment, and more cheery pop music coming from the other neighbor. Saguru ran a finger through the spill. Now it looked like a circle; a full moon that Kid favored. He smeared the circle across the table with his palm. Now it was just a wet streak, no meaning at all. Saguru leaned from his chair to pick up his phone.

Nearing nine. He had homework to grade. He would do it tomorrow morning as he sipped his tea and tried not to think about the tin of coffee in his cupboard he never drank but had bought from habit. He’d try not to think about the person he had been as a teenager and compare him to the person he was now. He would try not to remember how stubbornly Aoko had defended Kuroba or how desperately Kuroba tried to keep his identity hidden…or how eagerly he, Saguru, had crowed that identity to the world. Saguru pulled out his futon, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. There was always morning.

OMAKE

Momoi wasn’t quite what Saguru was expecting. For one, she was tall—she almost met Saguru’s eyes, and he was taller than most people in Japan. For another, she wore her hair in braids—which for most people it made them look younger—that were short and fat and somehow reminded him of ram’s horns from the way they poked forward. They framed her thin face right at the level of her cheekbones and seemed to aide her frown directed toward the books Saguru had brought in case the literature club needed any ideas. The other members were closer to what he had expected, more introverted than their peers, but the type that would open up around friends. There were two more women than men, also not a surprise, but Momoi Shiemi projected confidence and control Saguru didn’t see often with teenagers.

“So you’re Yumi-sensei’s replacement, huh?” Momoi said, eyes narrowed behind wire-rim glasses.

“Hakuba Saguru, yes. I’m—”

“I know who you are. There are rumors across the whole school about you.” She smiled, thin and challenging. “Most are crap, but from the reputable sources I see they got it right about you once being a detective. You sized us up when we got here. You notice details.” She shook her head and her braids tapped against her cheeks. “You have terrible taste in books though. You’re not going to get anyone interested in Faustus here. Well, maybe Kenta, but he plans on studying foreign literature.”

“Your group read Shakespeare,” Saguru said, bemused. “Marlowe is his contemporary. It isn’t that much more difficult to read, though I will admit that this particular translation is a bit antiquated in its word choice.”

“But Shakespeare is Shakespeare.” She shook her head. “I give you points with The Hound of the Baskervilles though. That is a good book even if Conan Doyle can’t seem to keep his canon straight.”

Saguru bristled. “I beg your pardon? Sir Conan Doyle wrote one of the most iconic characters in detective literature.”

“Doesn’t change that Watson had a traveling wound.” Momoi stared him down. Saguru scowled back. The other club members shifted nervously, but made no effort to intervene. Saguru swore one of them, the girl toward the back was rolling her eyes.

The door rattled, and someone entered saying, “Sorry I’m late I had—oh.”

Saguru broke his staring contest. It was Takumi at the door. They blinked at each other. Momoi grinned.

“About time. Takumi, help me get Sensei to understand that Doyle sucked at keeping details straight.” She slung an arm around Takumi’s neck, using his shoulder as a prop.

Takumi groaned. “Are you serious? Argue it yourself.”

“Where would be the fun in that?”

Saguru twitched. He…he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be the advisor of the literature club anymore. A Kuroba and Momoi—who looked like she was getting ready to rope the whole club into attacking Saguru’s favorite author’s writing—were going to make his life…interesting. And worse, they seemed to be close. God, if they were like Aoko and Kuroba in high school, Saguru was giving the club to someone else, responsibility, pride, and faculty opinions be damned. He cleared his throat. “Well. My apparently poor taste in literature aside,” he speared Momoi with a frown, “please give me a list of new members from the involvement fair, and if you need any help or resources, do not hesitate to ask. Yumi-sensei led a book discussion once a month about an English book, and if you are interested in continuing that, I am willing to lead a discussion as well.”

Momoi sized him up. “If you can come up with something that won’t put us to sleep, then sure. Go for it. If you suck leading a discussion, we’ll just discuss it on our own.”

Saguru grit his teeth. Takumi looked at her like this just made his day. She didn’t even have a reason to dislike Saguru yet. “Fine. Please keep me to date on what your group is reading. I’ll continue Yumi-sensei’s list.”

“Until she gets back,” a short girl with cat stickers on her notebook hiding behind a tall, long-haired boy murmured. “From maternity leave.”  The others looked at her, some shrugging, some nodding. Momoi looked sad, like she didn’t expect her teacher to return. Yumi-sensei might not return, or at least not until after the group had graduated. Saguru could remember teachers that left on maternity leave and then never came back, deciding to stay home to raise their child instead. It was more common in Japan than England, but he had seen it often enough both places to feel a bit sad for the students. Yumi-sensei must have been a good teacher to have so many students that liked her.

Takumi coughed. “Yeah. Until she gets back.” He glared at Saguru over Momoi’s shoulder. Did he really think Saguru would tell the girl otherwise?

“So!” Momoi said, cutting through the uncomfortable silence. “Everyone brought their lists right?”

Each club member pulled out a slip of paper, some longer than others. Book lists? Saguru supposed they must come with ideas and vote. Momoi grinned.

“Takumi, the cards.” Momoi held out a hand. He placed a deck of cards in her hand. She walked over to the club room’s table and bridged the cards while shuffling like a pro. Saguru’s eyebrows crept up into his hairline. Well. This was going interesting directions. “Sensei,” Momoi said through a shark’s smile as the club members took seats around the table, their lists in front of them. “How are you at poker?”

[claustrophobicfandom-blog]

Cold Suit ~ Tony Stark (IRON MAN)

Part 2: (will fill when written)

Pairings: Tony Stark x reader 

Warnings: Implied smut 

Words: 1,996

As fun as it is working for Tony, he spent so many hours operating on his suits down in the basement to the point where you weren’t sure if you even still had a job or not. The only use you seem to have for him is a catering business and wearing short skirts and low cut v-neck blouses for his amusement.

Not that you minded or anything, he never seemed to stress you out to the point where you wanted to quit, but most times he drove you off the walls.

Today was one of those days because he’s been in the basement for almost six hours now.

“Mr. Stark, are you even still alive down there?!” Laughing silently, you attempt to carry down the glass of ice water and plate of fruit you had prepared for him.

“What do you think y/n?” As you make it down the steps, realization hits you as to why he’s been in the basement for so long.

He was remodeling his suits, figures.

Not admitting it to him, all of the suits he remodels always end up looking like the same one before but just more polished and cleaner. It was kind of adorable how excited he got over them, and irritating how defensive he would get when it came to talking about his suits.

“Just marvelous Tony, now please take a break and rest for a little okay?” Smiling nervously, you place the plate and water on one of his tables. “You're tired?”

“What are you wearing?” Ignoring your question, you can hear the mechanic sound of his suit as he walks over to you. It always felt weird when he communicated with you from the inside of it, the intimidation was little but you felt more… submissive? That may be the correct word; you felt more docile whenever he was in the thing.

You looked down at your outfit in confusion, all you were wearing was a long silk, satan red pajama blouse with a pair of black lace panties which were invisible to his eyes because the silk garment was covering them. You weren’t wearing a bra either, but you didn’t think you’d be able to tell very well unless you took the time to look.

This was what Tony had given me?

“Well, it is almost midnight Mr. Stark.” Chuckling tensely, you tuck a loose strand of y/h/c behind your ear and twirl your bare foot against the cold tile. “Don’t you think you should take a break?”

You look into the bright bluish LED-lights of his eyes and feel yourself stiffen; he seems so dominant in that suit. Not that Tony Stark isn’t powerful in his human form, it’s just that when he’s in his ensemble, it's different

“God, you are gorgeous…” You blinked a couple of times at him, nervous and embarrassed that he’s able to see you and read you, but you weren’t able to see him.

It didn’t make sense as to why he was making a big deal about what you were wearing. It wasn’t like he hasn’t seen you in revealing clothes before.

“Why thank you Mr. Stark, but I honestly believe that it’s time to -

“Why must you try to ruin such a glorious moment?”

Looking at him in disbelief, you shake your head, “you need to go to bed.”

“Oh? Since when are you in charge around here?” Luckily his tone was playful, and he didn’t seem offended by your demanding comment.

Then again, all you’re looking at is a suit of armor with eyes that burn daggers through a person. Why must he make his suits seem so angry?

Perhaps it has to do with the whole authoritative and dominant look he’s trying to give off?

You glance at him when you can hear him moving again, but this time he’s moving closer to you which causes your heart to stop. To be honest, you’ve never actually gotten this close to him while he was in one of his suits before and now that he’s standing right in front of you - it’s more intimidating than you had imagined.

There was just something about him being in his suit and giving off an assertive feel that got you anxious. You’ve discovered that even just watching him work while he’s in it has made you feel the same way, even if he’s just testing it out.

“Y-You’ve done a very nice job with remodeling again!” Attempting to smile, your lip quivers slightly.

He stays silent, bringing his cold suited hand up to touch your bare shoulder, provoking a shiver and flinch as if he was going to hit you.

“Relax…” Was all he said before bringing that cold hand up and down your shoulder, caressing it as smoothly as the armor would allow. Luckily he wouldn’t be able to feel all the goosebumps he was creating on your fragile skin.

It felt odd, nothing compared to a human hand touching you but you’re shy to admit that you enjoyed it.

You couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or not, you wouldn’t bring- you couldn’t bring your eyes up to meet his bright ones or else you’d probably be put under a trance.

“Why haven’t I seen you in this?” His tone hinted of sadness?  

“Maybe because we’re both in bed, something we should be doing right now.” You take a deep breath, then realize how wrong your sentence sounded.

Slapping your mind a million times, but the seductive laugh coming from Tony told you he felt differently.

“Mr. Stark, that’s not what I-

“I like that idea very much Ms. Y/n…”

He brings his other cold suited hand to your thigh, playing with the silky fabric with his armored fingers. Every so often that cold robotic finger would brush up against the inner part of your leg, stirring up those butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

It’s a good thing that you being frozen at this very moment isn’t literal. You were submitting under his touch, and there was not one regret you had.

Well, maybe one.

“I work for you…”

The whole thought of sleeping with your boss was hot and all, but inappropriate.

Inappropriate? He’s getting a feel of you while he’s in one of his newly remodeled suits!

“And if I fire you?”

That sure as hell snapped you out of your trance; you jumped back with a horrified look on your face. “Fire me? Mr. Stark you can’t be serious!”

He grabs you with both of his cold hands and pulls you close to him, pressing his cold suit against your small body.

Him being within a proximity allowed you to realize that he has upgraded his suit and not just fixed it up like normal.

Unfortunately, though, the eyes of the suits still made him seem angry.

“Maybe it’s best if I fire you…”

You gasp as his armored hands suddenly come into contact with your butt, squeezing it with no regrets. Your voice had caught in your throat, and you weren’t able to respond to his sudden gesture nor immediate termination.

“After all, it would be improper of me to express my fondness towards you now wouldn’t it? You’re fired y/n, but how do you like the new suit? It’s a MARK XLVI, it took me quite some time to make it, but I think it turned out pretty damn cute don’t you?”

You stand there agape while his hands are still planted on your butt, he had just fired you, and he’s casually talking to you as if this is nothing.

“Don’t worry babe; I’m going to rehire you for a different type of job.” This sent a rush of calmness throughout your body but with that peace came a whole boatload of nervousness and anxiety.

His hands finally move from your butt and up your body, but as he moves his hands upwards, he makes sure to bring the hem of your silk lingerie up along with it, revealing your black lace panties and bare thighs.

“Shut up JARVIS, I’m busy.” He wasn’t talking to you, but upon hearing him talk to JARVIS, you started to reconsider what he was doing.

Ashamedly you had to admit; you were enjoying it.

“And you’re telling me that for the past couple of months, I have not gotten to get a piece of you in my bed?” He clicks his tongue, the head of the robot shaking ashamedly. “Would you mind if I changed that?”

Shaking your head without thinking, you gulp, “no Mr. Stark.”

The truth was, you would let him take you in his suit but considering there didn’t seem to be a compartment down towards his… erm, robotic lower regions -

“As adventurous as that sounds y/n, my suit isn’t made for something like that…”

You look away, blushing like a madwoman after realizing he caught your eyes wandering south. That sure as hell wasn’t embarrassing.

“But, that doesn’t mean we can’t try…” his cold fingers graze over the front of your panties, “other things.”

Your breathing starts to pick up at the thought of him touching you with one of his cold robotic fingers, those butterflies raging up a storm in your stomach now. You weren’t even sure if it would work or not considering the size of his-

“Mr. Stark, with all due respect I don’t think we should-

The front mask of his suit opens revealing his beautiful human face, he does look pretty exhausted, but it felt better being able to read how he was feeling instead of looking into those cringe-worthy eyes of his suit.

Now that you were looking at his human face though, your submissiveness to him seemed to falter.

He goes over to the table and grabs the glass of water you had brought down to him, taking a drink of it and also picking up a couple of grapes and popping them into his mouth. “You know how long it takes to design a new suit? A damn long time. Would you sleep with me if I was in a suit?”

He seemed to be walking around and messing with some of his gadgets while he was talking to you, which made you a little more relaxed knowing he can just have a conversation like this without needing to sit down and look at you.

“If you want me to be blunt Mr. Stark, I’d sleep with you if you were in or out of the suit.” Sitting down in one of his chairs, you felt that this conversation would be something you’d need to sit for.

“That would be fun… it would need some proper adjustments though.” Now he seemed to be talking to himself again, focused on looking at new blueprints.

The whole fantasy of having sex with him in the one thing that helps him save the world got you excited.

Yes, it intimidated you, but the anxiety was thrilling.

“Mr. Stark?” You grip the sides of your panties and wiggle in the chair, trying to get them off.

“Yes?” He’s not looking at you.

Shutting one eye, you aim for the table where he seems to be studying at and slingshot your panties over his way - bulls-eying it right on his sheets of paper.

“How about we try those other things you were talking about?”  

He turns to you, and you’re able to see the smirk on his face before the front of his mask closes again.

[nightglider124]

I know its too much for asking but could you write a little something for the alien boyfriend au? Its the cutest shit ever and i have never read something like that before. Pretty plssssssss?

*Bat glare* People need to stop requesting whilst requests are not open… HOWEVER… I am feeling generous tonight so you are in luck.

I’m assuming you meant the dickkory week drawing by @dar-draws, yus?

I shall do my best to give you a written piece. Just a little one though.

Flowers

Kory sighed as she leaned against the railing of her balcony.

He was late again.

2 hours late.

She wanted to be mad and be the typical girlfriend and throw a hissy fit because something more important had apparently taken up his time; something that couldn’t be ignored.

Tilting her head, she surveyed the night time skyline of Bludhaven. Multi-coloured lights winked at her and a chilly breeze rustled her long red hair.

Kory shivered and pulled her purple robe around her body a little tighter. She should probably change out of the surprise she had on for him. Lingerie and a Fall bite were not the greatest of combinations.

There was still a small amount of hope in her heart that he would show up but the doubt was slowly sinking in.

She glanced down at the plants dotted around the balcony of her apartment, considering them without really focusing. They were getting a little dry. Bludhaven hadn’t had any rain so far so she’d need to remember to manually water them tomorrow.

Kory wanted to be angry at him. She really did. But, she knew he had commitments to the city. She cursed her own understanding nature. She wanted to be a little irrational for once but how could she be when he did so many wonderful things for their city?

But still, she wished it wasn’t as often that he got held up or pulled away from their time spent together. She so rarely got that with him.

She simply missed him was all.

Kory huffed a sad sound and turned around, leaning back on the balcony with her eyes closed. Go inside or stay out? Go inside or stay-

A hovering near her; she could feel it in the air and if she didn’t, she certainly felt the tiny kiss against her cheek,

“I am sorry, Kory.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly turned around to face him. Opening her eyes, she found herself gazing at her boyfriend; her alien boyfriend.

Nightwing had been the protector of Bludhaven for a long time before Kory moved there all the way from the little island of Tamaran. They’d met at an unfortunate event; a fire down at the botanical gardens which had, in the end, been found to be deliberately done by some crazed arsonist.

He’d locked eyes with her after whisking her out of the building, stammered a hello before darting to rescue the rest of the civilians. Kory had been more than awed by his abilities. He had exited the building without so much as a scratch.

Of course, his memory kicked in and he had flown over to her, giving her the opportunity to throw her arms around him in thanks for saving her life. He had blushed a furious red. Kory had merely giggled.

Nightwing found her after that; many times, in fact. He sought her out and whilst some would probably have found that behaviour a little creepy, Kory found it endearing. He was an alien and didn’t know about social blunders like that; he was simply following his heart and trying to find the “pretty red haired lady” as he had once told her he fondly named her.

“Kor?”

She sighed, “What was it tonight?”

His expression saddened, “Please do not be mad... I really did try to finish up quickly.”

Kory shrugged, “I just hate how little time I get with you, Dick.”

His name was something he had formed with Kory. Before she arrived in town, he had no other alias other than what his name translated to from his home planet of Gotham, which happened to be Nightwing in English. Kory still couldn’t pronounce the actual name.

So, after researching names and trying to think of some he could use on Earth, they modelled Dick Grayson. It wasn’t for use around people who did not know him but somewhat a way for Kory to talk to him without feeling like she was speaking to Nightwing the hero, rather than her boyfriend. There were also a couple of Kory’s friends who knew the two were an item like Rachel, Gar and Vic. They all knew Dick very well and kept the relationship they shared on the quiet.

Nightwing had been very upfront about keeping Kory a precious secret. He didn’t want her ever being used against him by criminals. She was too close to his heart.

The tabloids were interested in her life more so than they should be. She was occasionally in there for her modelling gigs but recently, there had been articles about strange lights outside of her shows, like the night he wrote her name in the sky with his green energy.

Whilst flattered, that had gotten more attention than either thought it would. The press were dim though; they didn’t make the connection, merely querying who Kory Anders was seeing and if the sky stunt meant she was dating an alien.

That was something they laughed at and quickly dismissed.

If only they knew.

“I hate it too, y’know. I want to spend much more time with you. Either you are busy with the modelling or I am occupied with the city.” He sighed, dropping through the air a little at the blast of melancholy.

Kory nibbled on her bottom lip, “I suppose... I can’t really stay angry with you... At least, you still showed up.”

He looked somewhat hurt, “You believe I would simply ignore you? Or do the standing you up?”

She shrugged, “No... I just wondered if you had forgotten or-”

Nightwing flew closer to her, touching her beneath her chin, “Kory, I would never forget a date with you.”

Kory meekly smiled, “I know.”

She found herself lost in the emerald glow of his eyes. It was like a beat and equally as tantalizing. She knew the truth though; his powers had a green shine to them but his eyes were a beautiful ocean blue, beneath that domino mask of his.

“May I kiss you?” He asked, shyly,

Kory giggled, “You don’t need to ask.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “I could not be certain that you would not bite me or something akin for the attempt.”

Her laugh was cut off as he pressed his lips against hers, savouring her sweet taste, presumably from the strawberry lip-gloss she wore. He didn’t know if it was humans that intrigued him so much or if it was just this particular human.

Kory was gorgeous. Long flowing red hair, bright green eyes and lightly tanned skin. There was nothing about her that was strange. Perfect was the word for his beloved Kory.

Nightwing pulled back with a grin, “And, I also brought you these as a token of remorse for missing our date.”

He brought a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and Kory’s heart practically melted. There were so many colours amongst the bunch; pinks, blues, yellows. He knew her very well. She was a sucker for flowers.

“Dick... they are beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.”

Kory snorted but gave him an appreciative look, “Corny but thank you.”

Nightwing tilted his head, “Is corn not the food? How can I be-”

She smiled patiently and shook her head, “Corny means cliché... um... like it would only happen in a romantic movie.”

He opened his mouth to question that but closed it again, deciding it didn’t matter.

As Kory lifted the flowers to her nose to take a whiff of their scent, her robe slipped open a little and Nightwing found himself getting warm at the sight.

He smirked and eyed the lacy bra beneath, “Was I going to get a show tonight?”

Kory raised an eyebrow before glancing at her chest and cocking her hip, “You were but you are too late.”

Nightwing frowned, “Aww what?”

She shrugged, “Sorry.”

He huffed and floated up until he could sit cross legged, on the air, “Well, I suppose I should just go then-”

Kory rolled her eyes, grinning, “Fiiine... I guess, if you’re going to whine about it...”

With that, she tugged the string of her robe and let it slip from her shoulders, fluttering to the ground. She clasped her hands together, effectively pushing her breasts closer together and giving him a shot of delicious cleavage.

Nightwing turned his head and any words died on his tongue, “I... wow... oh... I believe I should have left that bank to be robbed.”

Kory giggled and did a slow turn, showing him every perfect angle.

The wind blew then, causing her to shudder at the sudden sharpness it brought with it.

“My love... you are cold?”

Kory smirked, “Oh yes... So very cold... Please, Nightwing... Will you come and warm me up?”

Nightwing blinked behind his mask before his grin split his lips. The flowers fell to the ground as he swooped down from the sky, captured her in his arms and carted her inside her apartment.

His kiss was passionate and desperate and he pulled away after closing the balcony door just long enough to purr, “Oh, with pleasure.”

[turnsoutnoonewasexaggerating]

Part 11 of The Sam Diaries

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10507836/chapters/27140973

20:47: Is this Eunoia?

20:47: Yes? Who are you?

20:48: It’s Neil Josten. I was trying to get hold of Sam’s number to tell him the police got a hold of the guy at the game but I couldn’t find it.

20:49: If u managed to get a hold of my mobile number in Greece I don’t think it was the police who took him away

21:01: Why doesn’t Sam have a phone?

21:05: He broke it last week and hasn’t replaced it yet Also kinda still can’t believe I actually know u pls b nice I am too excited and tired for this conversation

21:05: How did he break it? And I don’t think I’ve ever been good at nice sorry

21:06: He dropped it on the floor Apparently me in lingerie causes him to lose all motor functions

21:07: I didn’t need the extra info

21:07: Your fault for asking. Anywho, I’ll pass on the message. Thank you again for the game tickets and congrats on how well you played

21:09: Andrew’s probably bought those game tickets ten times over in ice cream by now

21:09: That is… Maybe a little bit true. I should probably give him discounts at this point

21:10: Do not it is hard enough keeping him to his diet schedule as it is

21:10: Rodger that. 21:11: Sam just asked me what I’m laughing at He is shocked and appalled at the idea of a meal plan

21:15: Don’t ever let him meet Kevin Day. He loves meal plans more than he loves his wife

21:16: Poor wife 21:20: So apparently ur demi too? Oh Shit sorry Sam’s just told me not to mention it I just haven’t met anyone irl other than Sam Ignore it

21:30: It’s fine 21:45: So Sam’s demi and he was just born like that?

21:46: Yes?

21:47: And you’re not demi right?

21:47: Nah I’m just a boring heterosexual.

21:48: I didn’t know there was a word for it I just thought I was different

21:49: Well u r but it’s not a bad thing. And it seems to be working for u guys fine!

21:50: Yeah. Thanks Eunoia.

10:52: Neil, I need to apologise I never thought I was going to get answers as to what happened to my parents And I definitely didn’t think the answers would be btw ur parents were spies Like that’s not a reality I ever had to live in Don’t get me wrong I’m 100% ready to stab ur uncle if he ever comes near me But Sam’s convinced me I shouldn’t have taken that out on u it’s not ur fault I’m sorry

11:10: Your parents were killed to save my life. I should be the one apologising. Are you ok? Also do not attempt to stab my uncle you will be killed before you even met him

11:11: Calm down crazy. U didn’t kill them. Sam's helping me through it. It's going to take a while to rewrite them in my head. I can't believe they lied to me for so many years. It's like, did I even know them? But the best thing for me is to get back to work doing what I love. And finish up wedding decisions as well :) I figured that. My parents were the good guys tho right?

11:12: I might as well have I'm glad you've got Sam. All the members of the FBI I’ve met are pricks but they were on the right side of the law I suppose. And they got taken out because they were too good at their jobs

11:12: Pls pass Andrew ur phone

11:13: Ok… 11:14: What?

11:14: Pls get ur bf’s head out of his self-deprecating arse. Also how much ice-cream will it take to win u over? I have a lot

11:15: Unfortunately it’s been stuck there since he was born. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. Just how much of your ‘Death by Chocolate’ do you currently have stocked?

11:16: How big is ur fridge?

When Andrew had finally managed to coax a nervous and still visibly upset Neil out of the Maserati and into the shop (thankfully there didn’t seem to be any other customers in yet; Andrew had a feeling Neil would like this conversation even less in public), it’s to find Rosa deRosales behind the counter, not Eunoia. Rosa and Andrew stare at each other blankly.

“Oh yeah, Rosa, those famous Exy players I was talking about come in here all the time, I don’t really know why, but they’re pretty chill so don’t give them special treatment.” Eunoia’s voice calls from the back, getting steadily louder as she makes her way to the front. “Can you get the door for me babe?”

Rosa breaks eye-contact with Andrew to push the door to the back open and lets Eunoia, hidden behind a tower of white dopplers, into the front of the shop. She places them down on the counter carefully, having still not noticed Andrew and Neil.

Andrew takes a second to look her over. In all honesty, she looks like shit. She has bags under her eyes that speak of not just a bad night’s sleep but a truly horrific one, and she’s hobbling like she’s injured her feet in some way. Her hair, for the first time in their acquaintance, is tied back away from her face, and it makes her look serious in a way she rarely is. Her eyes are still slightly wild and more than a little haunted, but she’s calm in the way she unstacks the boxes and there’s nothing fake about her smile as she thanks Rosa.

“How long have you worked here?” Andrew says finally and Eunoia startles and looks at him in confusion.

“This is my first shift.” Rosa replies quietly, fidgeting with her apron. “I’m just helping out Eunoia while she gets some new staff, but I still fill her ‘fucked-up’ criteria.”

“You know each other?” Eunoia asks, gesturing between the two of them, giving a disapproving glance at her friend for calling herself and the other employees fucked up. Andrew shrugs.

“We were in the same foster home, but not at the same time.”

“Oh.” Eunoia says in surprise, and then she glances at Rosa and pales. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Rosa replies, and Eunoia looks vaguely sick when she looks back at Andrew. Andrew quirks an eyebrow, feeling like he’d missed something.

“I’m guessing that’s why you were barely sober over November and December in Junior High.” Eunoia says quietly, still talking to Rosa but not taking her eyes off Andrew.

“I couldn’t believe he was really dead after I’d spent all of Freshman High hiding from him at your house.” Rosa agrees, just as softly. Neil and Andrew both stiffen.

“I suppose that makes Eunoia one of the ‘good friends who got you to the hospital in time’?” Andrew manages, eventually. Eunoia shakes her head.

“We didn’t go to the same university.”

“Not that that stopped her from flying halfway around the country to visit me in hospital in the middle of her exams.” Rosa smiles, poking her friend in the side.

“Way too many fucking coincidences.” Neil says, blinking at them all. Eunoia agrees with a laugh, and if it’s a little more hard-won than it usually is, that’s to be expected. They’re going to be ok.

"At least half of those better be mine." Andrew deadpans, pointing at the dopplers, when the feeling in the room gets a little to sappy for him to stomach, and this time when Eunoia laughs there's nothing hesitant about it at all.

“Andrew.” Kevin’s never been one for conventional greetings.

“Kevin.” Andrew replies, because neither has he.

“Are you free?” Andrew assumes he means to chat, and wonders when Thea had managed to persuade Kevin to be a little less brisk and demanding on the phone. He’s not entirely sure he likes it. He stretches out on their couch, secretly pleased with the fact that he’s short enough that his whole body fits on it lengthways with some wiggle room, and closes his eyes, listening to Neil switch on the coffee machine. Neil thinks that when the coffee machine is whirring Andrew can’t hear him singing along to the radio, and Andrew sees no reason to inform him of the truth, especially when after last week’s mess with Sam and Eunoia, Andrew was worried the singing wouldn’t come back for a while.

“From Neil? Unfortunately he’s still alive and annoying as ever.”

“Of time constraints you bastard.” Now there’s the Kevin he knows and- Knows. “I thought we could get lunch.”

“You live on the other side of the country.” Andrew deadpans, intrigued despite himself.

“And now I’m in your town.” Kevin says back with his usual stoic demeanour, no hint as to why he’s travelled hundreds of miles just to take Andrew out for lunch.

“What happened? Did you finally leave Muscles to do something about your Knox boner? Come to have a gay crisis with me?” Andrew can tell Kevin’s fuming through the phone, and Andrew knows the only reason he hasn’t exploded in rage is that he’s not sure what part of Andrew’s speech he’s most upset about.

“No.” Kevin grounds out, through gritted teeth. “I’ll meet you at that Italian place Neil took us to last time. Don’t bring him.” The line clicks dead before Andrew can ask what the fuck that’s supposed to mean.

“What the shit is going on, Day?” Andrew announces as he strides up to Kevin’s table, ignoring the waiter chasing after him about waiting to be served. Kevin flicks an apologetic look at the staff as Andrew sits across from him, who predictably all swoon over the handsome celebrity.

“I owe you.” Kevin says, uncomfortably. It’s the last thing Andrew ever expects him to say. Luckily Kevin is used to Andrew’s taciturn ways and keeps talking without being prompted. “I didn’t hold up my end of our deal.”

Andrew’s eyes narrow as Kevin clenches and unclenches his scarred hand. He doesn’t think the striker even knows he’s doing it.

“You don’t owe me anything.” Andrew says, eventually. Kevin frowns at him.

“I know it’s been ages but that doesn’t make it ok.” Kevin protests, and Andrew wants to snarl at his stupidly thick head. He hated dealing with people who didn’t understand him.

Which basically translated to he hated dealing with anyone who wasn’t Neil.

“I came up with that deal because I was desperate, and much as I meant to hold up my end of it, the way I went about it was all wrong. I built my entire life around Exy and I didn’t think for a moment that you couldn’t do the same. I knew for certain that Exy could be more to you if you just let it, and I was right, but it couldn’t be the be all end all for you.” Kevin trying to apologise is almost amusing enough for Andrew to want to continue the conversation; his face is contorted with the effort of saying the right words, and he’s still failing miserably. It’s quite possibly the first time Kevin’s tried to genuinely apologise in his life. Andrew’s fairly certain he practiced this little speech.

“You’re not listening Kevin. You don’t owe me anything.” Kevin blinks.

“I don’t understand.” Andrew rolls his eyes and looks out the window as he fidgets idly with the knife on the table in front of him. Unfortunately not sharp enough to cut the pest.

“You picked Neil.” Andrew’s hand tightens around the knife at his admission, and he watches as understanding dawns on Kevin’s face.

“Oh.”

“You’re paying for the food.” Andrew insists, not letting Kevin linger on the topic for any longer.

“We’re only here because it’s got some options with really rich carb intake.” Kevin says sternly. Andrew sometimes amuses himself thinking about Kevin’s face if he saw how loosely Andrew followed his meal plan. (And by loosely he means one night a week he eats whatever green vegetable-filled meal Neil forces down his throat, and only because Neil hates vegetables just as much and Andrew will one day capture on camera the face Neil makes around spinach.)

Andrew sends a text to Neil informing him that he’s leaving Neil for his bowl of pasta later on, and occasionally offers a comment on Kevin’s latest analysis of the upcoming season, admitting to himself quietly, with a little bloom of warmth he usually only feels around Neil, that it’s because he enjoys talking to Kevin.

[themildestofwriters]

Because Tumblr’s going down the shitter tomorrow, I’m going to post a chapter of the up-coming novel “short”-story I’m writing, ‘The Weird and Wonderful Sexual Awakening of Babette Melwyn’. This is chapter four, six seven and follows Babette after having her sexual reawakening and deciding to experiment a bit more. Does it spoil what happens? Well, it was already a foregone conclusion anyway and this is only one part of the story which has quite a bit more then just the smut.Quite a bit more.

Anyway, on to the story!

Babette Visits Pandora’s Box

Breath—in, out. In, out.

My skin prickled uncomfortably, suffocating heat washing all over me. Like the pounding of war drums, my heart was hammering in my chest. I knew that, if anyone saw me, they would see bright-red blush across my countenance.

I didn’t want to here.

I really didn’t want to be here.

Of course, the option to leave was there. It would be so simple. Just turn around and walk away, but I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Indignant pride—along with incessant curiosity—kept me rooted in place. I survived hell and beyond, led armies, ruled an Empire and fought against everything from the Third Reich to the very gods themselves.

Yet… here I was, terrified. Petrified!

It infuriated me, how I felt, and it was all Josephine’s fault—or mother’s fault. It fluctuated now and then.

Weeks had passed since mother asked the question that changed everything, and it had been quite the journey. Now, here I was, standing before a building that was in no way discreet. It was only one story tall, sitting at a corner beside a few other stores—a mechanic and hardware retailer. Cement walls were painted black with a long and thick purple strip running through it, merging with a great eight-ball painted on its side; however, instead of there being an eight in the centre, there was an eighteen-plus. To finish it off, atop the flattened roof was a broad sign that read: Pandora’s Box Adult Store.

It was quite a distance from home, at least another suburb over. As sure as I was that it was far enough from school and home that I wouldn’t meet anyone I knew, the fear still lingered like a miasma. If I locked eyes with someone from school, a friend, a family member or, worse, Josephine herself, I knew I’d die from utter humiliation. That, or I’d bury myself somewhere on Pluto for the next century or two, at least until everyone who knew me was dead.

With that in mind, I took precautions. So, nobody would recognise me and hadn’t arrived as myself, per se.

Nobody walking by would see little Babette Melwyn visiting an adult store, no siree. Instead, they would see a man right out of a modern interpretation of Lord of the Rings. To put it simply, he looked like an elf—if a particularly strange elf—with a very thin and lanky frame, a strong aquiline nose that sat flush with his brow, and bright crimson eyes. His clothes were simple, a pair of plain black pants, a forest green shirt and a satchel that hung across his body. Finally, there was the black beanie that sat on his head, hiding a pair of long elfin ears.

I couldn’t remember the last time I used this form. In recent millennia, I hadn’t much use for it: No need to go undercover; no need to hide from the authorities; no songs to sing that simply sounded better with a masculine voice. I would have preferred a slightly different form from this—mostly because changing sex was a rather odd experience—but it was the only one I had that looked human enough and didn’t look a thing like me.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I adjusted my new clothes and began crossing the car park.

The streets were relatively empty, and I couldn’t see anyone out and about on a walk nearby, so my fears eased. Despite this, I still flung the entry door as open as I could and stepped inside as quick as I could. Unfortunately, in my haste, I almost slammed my face into another door a few feet away.  Jerking back to save myself, I quickly noticed the large poster plastered on it—big bold letters declared a warning to minors, stating that this wasn’t the place for them.

Well, I’m certainly no minor, at least chronologically, though mentally? I mused. Completely different story.

I gave the poster a further few seconds of consideration before passing through.

The first thing I noticed was the front desk. A few advertisements and products decorated it here and there—lubricants and condoms mainly—but it wasn’t that which interested me, rather it was the human manning the desk who caught my eye.

I didn’t really know what I was expecting when I entered Pandora’s Box: A leering man with questionable stains on a rumbled spotted shirt; an Amazonian sex goddess with thighs that could crush skulls; or maybe the extravagantly dressed Madame who secretly owned a trafficking ring out back. There were many ideas and expectations I had when I first planned this trip. What I got instead was an old lady with greying hair who looked to be in her sixties or seventies. She wore modest clothes, a pale pink blouse with a short red cardigan over top.

It was… odd.

Nevertheless, what she looked like didn’t matter much at all to me. The fact that she was here, staring at me, however, was something else entirely.

She smiled, warm and welcomingly.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice as sweet as any grandmothers should.

“Hey,” I mumbled back, nerves and social ineptitude making it difficult to say much else.

I turned away quickly, wanting to forget she was even there, only to recoil in shock as the rest of the store revealed itself to me.

Just what in the Abyss had I gotten myself into?

Along the walls, hanging from hooks and on display in little island tables was an ungodly supply of dildos—some small, some so large I wondered how they’d even fit! There was more as well: lingerie, butt plugs, handcuffs, vibrators and so much more. Some of these things I couldn’t even name let alone determine their purpose.

Cheeks flared red and, much to my further embarrassment and dismay, I could feel my pants tighten. My eyes grew wide and for the next couple of seconds, all that went through my head was a steady stream of unholy screams and curses.

I had forgotten about that little fact.

I was biologically male and so I had to deal with all the aspects of being a male.

I took a deep breath and accepted that this was going to be my life for the next hour or so. Reluctantly, I began browsing, all the while attempting to reposition my newest appendage as subtly as I could. By Anu, it was uncomfortable.

As for what I was looking for, I didn’t want anything too fancy nor anything too big—just something to satisfy my curiosity—but it soon became apparent that I had absolutely no idea what I was looking for. Silicone versus rubber; double ended verses suction cup; veiny verses smooth; strap-on compatible verses that one weird dildo that looked more like featureless snowman: there were so many options to choose from that tackling size alone was its own chore, and I had no idea what any of it meant!

Oh, sure, I did spend a few weeks online researching the subject. I read a few articles about sex and masturbation, I learned that what I felt when with Josephine was “being horny” or “aroused”, and I’d seen many videos of people having sex. Yet nothing mentioned anything about the specifications of different dildos and what they meant. I didn’t even think this was going to be an issue! I just thought most of the different designs I’d seen were purely aesthetic based!

Unfortunately, it appeared my ignorance must have shown in some way as, after roughly ten minutes of staring at the shelves with confused horror etched on my face, a voice spoke.

“Would you like some help, dearie?” the old lady asked, her sweet voice unnervingly at odds with everything around her. In fact, the entire store felt off. It was quiet, casual. It was like I just walked into a convenience store but instead of lollies and Stanley knives, it sold riding crops and ball-gags.

I turned to the woman, trying my best to keep composure, and paused—at a complete loss for words. Should I ask for help? I had no idea. I didn’t want to look like some idiot, but I also didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary.

Once again, I cursed my stupidity. Of course there would be different types of dildos, each with their own pros and cons, yet all I did was get off to watching those wretched videos.

After much deliberation, I decided “to hell with it” and accepted her aid.

“Yes, please,” I replied meekly.

She smiled tenderly and left the counter, soon joining my side. It was then I realised that I was an entire head taller than her, a completely useless fact that left me feeling uncomfortable for some inexplicable reason. “Do you know what you’re looking for exactly?”

“I—ah…” I wasn’t really sure how to reply to that. Should I just out and say it? Would that be socially accepted? Or would a euphemism be in order? I had no bloody idea. “I’m looking for… I’m looking for a dildo.”

“Is this your first time?” she asked, this time with a knowing.

First time? I blushed. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Don’t worry, dearie,” she said. “I’ll help you out.”

One misunderstanding and many uncomfortable questions later, I had my vibrator in hand. While I would have much preferred a normal dildo, it at least looked far less complicated than the other toys recommended. The entire vibrator verses dildo dichotomy confused me, but not being an expert left me little room to complain. Of course, getting to that point wasn’t easy nor fun. Not only did I realise how deep the well of my stupidity goes but I think I somehow convinced the old lady that I was trans. After all, how else are you supposed to explain away a man looking for a dildo to use on his vagina?

Soon after paying, I hid the vibrator away in my satchel and left the store as discreetly as possible.

Once out, I wandered around for a bit, eventually arriving at a wooded park nearby. Hiding among the trees, I made sure none were nearby before returning to my old skin.

Shapeshifting was a queer affair. Disorientation was always something to worry about if one was unaccustomed with the art or shifting into an unfamiliar body with different proportions. However, that was only a minor inconvenience for me as it was the shift itself that was more unusual. It was by no means painful or anything, it simply felt weird. It was as if my skin and bones were melting and reshaping again and again until my body fit what form I desired. The first to change was my height, becoming noticeably shorter; my shoulders narrowed; my hips widened; my chest expanded; features became less elvish and more feminine; and then finally, my eyes shifted from a red to vivid gold.

It only took a second at the most, but I was grateful that my body was mine once again. What’s more, the annoying erection was no more, yet I still felt the tingling of anticipation twisting in my gut below, aching for release.

I fought down a shiver and took a deep breath. Every thought I had went straight beck to the vibrator in my bag: what I would do with it; what it would do to me. I was eager, ready, but I couldn’t just fly home right now—I needed batteries.

After once again checking to see if the coast was clear, four great black wings burst from my back, tearing through my shirt. A few seconds, I launched into the sky, vanishing from sight moments later.

A short stop to buy an eight-pack of batteries later and I was on my way home.

I had the house all to myself, what with my family being out for the next few hours, so I had time to satiate my curiosity. There was a reason I chose today to go out to the store.

Locking the front door behind me, I silently set the alarm spell just in case anyone attempted to break in. I then retired to my room, closing and once again locking the door before flopping onto my bed.

I was home, all alone.

The strange aching sensation had tapered off during the flight, but now that I was back, all I could think about was the vibrator and what would come next.

Sitting up, I opened my satchel and removed my newly bought toy, still sitting inside the box it was sold in.

I removed the packaging and examined the purple disembodied member. It was roughly seven inches long, curved slightly, with a realistic mould of the male genitalia. Apparently, it was a high-quality product, not only being waterproof and made of silicone but also with seven different intensities to choose from. Let’s just hope it was worth every cent I spent.

I bit my lip, my legs squirming together as the tingling warmth began spreading throughout my body. I was eager—more than eager—to find out how it would feel. Fingers were one thing, but these were supposed to be ten times better.

I smirked despite myself. Everyone said masturbation was a healthy and natural thing, even my therapist, but their words still didn’t change how I felt. Masturbation was a dirty thing, so depraved and selfish in my mind; a taboo I had never considered, yet a taboo all the same. However, these thoughts only seemed to make the action all the more exciting as if to spite it all. It was a forbidden fruit, something I shamefully tasted once and was left only wanting more.

Quickly, I summoned a Shroud of Silence around my bedroom and got ready.

With the batteries placed inside, I quickly discarded my clothes—my beanie, hair tie, shoes and socks—and threw them onto the floor with everything else that wasn’t necessary.

Next came the tattered shirt. I didn’t really need it anymore and considering the fact that it was already ruined, I tore it off and threw the remains to the floor. Without a bra, I was left bare-chested, everything from my pale lavender-grey skin to my scars—some faint, some not—and my small breasts.

I looked down, I inspected myself—the dark room, a bright monochrome to my eyes. My body felt all warm and sensitive, hyper-aware of the tingling pressure below my navel begging to be attended to. My hands roved, tempted to simply forgoing the vibrator and take matters into my own hands. The slightest touch was like sparks of electricity to my skin, enticing.

I forced myself to stop, to think clearly. I crawled onto my bed. With pillows to act as a buffer, I leaned against the headboard and spread my legs. Absently, I summoned the vibrator to hand and… stopped.

This was the first time I had ever used anything aside from my fingers and pillow, and I had no idea what I was going to expect. Of course, I had seen videos of people using them but seeing and experiencing were two completely different things.

I pressed the button sitting flush with the black base of the vibrator and instantly the room was filled with a low hum.

I squirmed at the noise, the vibrations stimulating my imagination. My legs clamped shut and I could feel my body ache to feel the massaging touch of my new toy. Like tunnel vision, the vibrator was the only thing on my mind at the moment—the desire to feel it against me, inside me; the carnal pleasures it would bring. But before I began, curiosity pushed me further. I pressed the button a few more times, each rewarding me with a new and enticing setting that picked up in intensity until it was buzzing madly in hand.

My breath hitched and quickly I switched the thing off with a final press of the button.

By Anu, I would certainly not be using that setting tonight. That was far too… too potent. I smiled nevertheless, excited to see what this night would bring.

Relaxing against the headboard, I spread my legs once again.

Slowly, the fingers of my left hand ran down my body, past the tuft of silky black pubic hair before gliding over my warm mound. I wanted to ease myself in, not be overly hasty.

First, I started with my middle digit, circling my clitoris—each movement of my finger sending sparks of pleasure, some more often than not, flowing through my body. I varied myself, trying to find that right touch, that right rhythm to get the best effect. Sometimes I would slide my finger between slippery lips, delving deep into my warmth; at other times, I would use two or more fingers, playing with myself until my head became hazy.

The only constant was how deep my breathing became and how slick my fingers got. I felt as if I could go on and on, slowly building myself up and up until that bright flash of absolute paradise. It would be easy to give into temptation, but I stopped myself, huffing a deep breath as I did.

Bringing my fingers up for inspection, I saw they were glistening, lines of wetness connecting finger to finger like a spider’s web.

I blushed. I had never been so wet before.

I knew I was enthusiastic—shamefully so—but I didn’t expect this!

I stared, almost mesmerised by the lines of fluid that coated my fingers. I had seen video after video of men and women using their mouths and tongues, tasting the viscous juices of others. I wondered how it tasted—the girls surely looked like they were enjoying themselves from what I remember.

I tilted my head and, in a fit of impulse, brought my fingers to my lips, dragging my middle finger down my tongue.

The taste… it tasted kind of… I wasn’t sure.

There wasn’t much of a taste to be honest, perhaps a bit sweet? It was underwhelming, to be honest. It wasn’t ambrosia and I certainly wouldn’t drink a glass full. But, somehow… the thought that this was what a woman tasted like?

I wondered if this is what every woman tasted like or if it was different. Did Josephine taste this way? I didn’t know but I wanted to find out—to feel my tongue running along her slick lips, tasting every inch of her. I could almost see it when I closed my eyes, her body writhing beneath me; my tongue explored every inch of her.

I brought my fingers back to my mouth, slowly lapping up the remaining nectar from each digit. This was the closest I could ever get to Josephine and I savoured every last bit, moaning as I did. My tongue grew and reformed, becoming longer and pointed, wrapping around my fingers and tasting every last drop.

Only when I was done and there was none left did I sigh, deep and content. The taste wasn’t anything special but the thought of my tongue exploring Josephine’s depths just made it so… so… delectable. My body was already hot and bothered before, but now I could barely think straight.

I turned my attention back towards my vibrator and then down towards my vagina—aching heat calling desperately to be tended to.

Readjusting my grip, I turned it on to the lowest setting and brought it down slowly. The second it brushed against me, I jerked up, stifling a small cry—a powerful jolt of pleasure, intense and sudden, shooting through me.

It… um. I— I didn’t expect that…

Suppressing a grin, I repositioned myself and pressed against me again. Just like before, pleasure shot through me, but it was more than that—a near constant assault as I pressed it between my lips. The vibrator changed pitch, and I groaned and squirmed.

I tried to be quiet, but I couldn’t help but mutter under my breath.

“Fuck…” I groaned, beginning to move the head, watching it roam around my vulva. I never let it overstay its welcome, exploring around and between soaking lips to my sensitive clitoris and everywhere else. As I did, more jolts of pleasure racked through me, soliciting moan after moan, threatening to overwhelm me.

My head lulled back, eyes closed, as my free hand moved slid up my waist and ribs, tickling my side before cupping my breast. With thumb and finger, I teased myself, pinching my hardened nipple as fresh waves drowned me in carnal delight.

My groans became louder, hungrier. I could feel that presence below my navel growing and growing as time ticked by—tense, like a spring, as if it were ready to release at any moment.

I didn’t just want more, I needed more.

I pressed the button on the base and—

“By Anu!” I cried. My body arched suddenly, an entirely new world of ecstasy taking root. I pressed the button again and again, lost in my insatiable craving for more. “Oh, fuck!”

My mind blanked, the world around me darkening as I focused purely on myself and nothing else. I felt as if I couldn’t stop, even if I wanted to. All I could think about was feeding my blind hedonism until I was left a drooling mess.

Pinching and teasing turned to rough kneading—my hand massaging and squeezing my small supple breast.

Soon, fantasies began filling my mind to tempt and stimulate. I remembered back to that particular video I watched—the one of the two women sharing in each other’s company. They would kiss deeply, their hands ever wandering, caressing, teasing. Soon, one girl began to kiss lower, down the other’s neck, past her breast and between her legs.

I couldn’t help but put myself in the other’s position, completely at the mercy to another’s masterful tongue.

But then the girl changed. No longer was she a blonde white woman taking deep pleasure in lapping up every inch of me. Instead, her skin turned a dark caramel, her hair curlier and now a deep chocolate brown. She looked at me, parting hair that obscured her face and—

My heart skipped a beat.

Josephine…

I could see her plain as day in my mind.

She crawled to me, slowly and seductively, her delicious arse swaying so tantalisingly as she did—her enthralling green eyes never wavering from mine. There was a look in those eyes, some unrestrained hunger that scared me, excited me and awoke something deep within me.

Pure bliss flooded every part of my body. I moaned her name, feeling shameful desire swirl at my desperation. That presence below my navel called out, demanding to be filled, and I obeyed.

My lips parted as I eased the vibrator in. First the head then, slowly, the rest of it began to fill me. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before. Instantly, I was intoxicated, drunk on unabashed lust. I groaned loud—loud enough that, had anyone been home, they surely would have heard.

In and out, I pumped the vibrator, building speed as I yearned to feel more. My free hand soon joined it, massaging my clitoris as the vibrator continued to send wave after wave of crushing pleasure through me again and again and again.

My fantasy continued, Josephine’s splendour still in my mind.

I soaked up every last bit of her I could remember—her eyes, her skin, those lips. Oh, how I longed to feel those luscious lips upon my own, on my neck, on my breast, teasing me with teeth and tongue.

Down, down, down, down.

How I longed for those beautiful soft lips to mark me all the way down to between my legs—to feel her tongue dance a most wicked dance around and inside me, exploring my warm depths.

Oh, how I wanted her here.

I wanted her, I so desperately wanted her here it was frustrating. I wanted her here to make me her plaything. I wanted her here to ravage me so completely that I couldn’t think straight. I wanted her here to fuck me hard and rough until I was nothing more than an incoherent babbling mess in the palm of her hands.

I gasped.

My entire body seized up, legs slamming shut onto my hands. I clenched down hard onto my vibrator. My entire body rocked. Hips bucking wildly as absolute euphoria flooded my entire body.

I felt as if I was being shattered deep into my very core—a feeling so strong and intense it almost hurt.

Muffled whine turned whimpers tried desperately to be heard as white hot bliss shot through me again and again and again and again.

Jolt after jolt of agonising pleasure ruined me, never-ending and omnipresent. I could feel it building me up and up, just as before. Every inch of me felt so sensitive, like the slightest touch could send me spiralling down all over again.

I cried out, every last moan loudly declaring my depraved deeds to the world.

I couldn’t handle it. It was just too overwhelming.

I removed the vibrator as quickly as I could, fearing that I would break. The second its ravenous touch left, I surrendered to fatigue.

My heart raced. Blood thumped loudly in my ears. My breaths, long and laboured. I was utterly exhausted.

I laid there for a moment, trying to recover my lost strength. The buzzing of the vibrator continued but a quick spell later and all that could be heard was my heavy breaths.

That was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

It was just so… so… pure. So utterly all-consuming. I could barely describe it.

Slowly, my faculties returned. My mind became clearer and my breathing soon became more measured. When my body relinquished control back to me, I summoned the silenced vibrator to hand. I could still it vibrate against my hand and so I quickly cycled through the various settings and turned it off, placing it on my bedside.

I continued laying for a time, staring up at the cream ceiling as my muscles began to relax.

After a minute or so, I pulled myself up to a sitting position and quickly looked down, noticing a sudden wetness against my leg.

I frowned, cheeks flaring hot as I realised just how soaked I, and the bed, was. Not only were my thighs glossy with the clear coating of my release, but there was a large dark stain on my sheets, intermingling with the marks of sweat.

I sighed and reclined on my bed. It’d be a pain to clean up. Next time, definitely bring a towel.

Next time.

I smiled wistfully and turned to the veiny member sitting innocently on my bedside. There was no doubt that I wouldn’t be using it again.

But now? I need to clean up and probably have a bath. A nice warm bath.

[themildestofwriters]

Because Tumblr’s going down the shitter tomorrow, I’m going to post a chapter of the up-coming novel “short”-story I’m writing, ‘The Weird and Wonderful Sexual Awakening of Babette Melwyn’. This is chapter four, six seven and follows Babette after having her sexual reawakening and deciding to experiment a bit more. Does it spoil what happens? Well, it was already a foregone conclusion anyway and this is only one part of the story which has quite a bit more then just the smut.Quite a bit more.

Briefer:

For backstory: This is the fourth chapter of a longer series, “The Weird and Wonderful Sexual Awakening of Babette Melwyn,” there is more that isn’t much explained in this because it has been explained in previous chapters. However, all you need to know is that Babette  is a immortal goddess ingénue who’s a bit socially awkward and still adjusting to an Earth she has just returned to after aeons of being absent. Her girlfriend is Josephine Williams.

Anyway, on to the story!

Babette Visits Pandora’s Box

Breath—in, out. In, out.

My skin prickled uncomfortably, suffocating heat washing all over me. Like the pounding of war drums, my heart was hammering in my chest. I knew that, if anyone saw me, they would see bright-red blush across my countenance.

I didn’t want to here.

I really didn’t want to be here.

Of course, the option to leave was there. It would be so simple. Just turn around and walk away, but I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Indignant pride—along with incessant curiosity—kept me rooted in place. I survived hell and beyond, led armies, ruled an Empire and fought against everything from the Third Reich to the very gods themselves.

Yet… here I was, terrified. Petrified!

It infuriated me, how I felt, and it was all Josephine’s fault—or mother’s fault. It fluctuated now and then.

Weeks had passed since mother asked the question that changed everything, and it had been quite the journey. Now, here I was, standing before a building that was in no way discreet. It was only one story tall, sitting at a corner beside a few other stores—a mechanic and hardware retailer. Cement walls were painted black with a long and thick purple strip running through it, merging with a great eight-ball painted on its side; however, instead of there being an eight in the centre, there was an eighteen-plus. To finish it off, atop the flattened roof was a broad sign that read: Pandora’s Box Adult Store.

It was quite a distance from home, at least another suburb over. As sure as I was that it was far enough from school and home that I wouldn’t meet anyone I knew, the fear still lingered like a miasma. If I locked eyes with someone from school, a friend, a family member or, worse, Josephine herself, I knew I’d die from utter humiliation. That, or I’d bury myself somewhere on Pluto for the next century or two, at least until everyone who knew me was dead.

With that in mind, I took precautions. So, nobody would recognise me and hadn’t arrived as myself, per se.

Nobody walking by would see little Babette Melwyn visiting an adult store, no siree. Instead, they would see a man right out of a modern interpretation of Lord of the Rings. To put it simply, he looked like an elf—if a particularly strange elf—with a very thin and lanky frame, a strong aquiline nose that sat flush with his brow, and bright crimson eyes. His clothes were simple, a pair of plain black pants, a forest green shirt and a satchel that hung across his body. Finally, there was the black beanie that sat on his head, hiding a pair of long elfin ears.

I couldn’t remember the last time I used this form. In recent millennia, I hadn’t much use for it: No need to go undercover; no need to hide from the authorities; no songs to sing that simply sounded better with a masculine voice. I would have preferred a slightly different form from this—mostly because changing sex was a rather odd experience—but it was the only one I had that looked human enough and didn’t look a thing like me.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I adjusted my new clothes and began crossing the car park.

The streets were relatively empty, and I couldn’t see anyone out and about on a walk nearby, so my fears eased. Despite this, I still flung the entry door as open as I could and stepped inside as quick as I could. Unfortunately, in my haste, I almost slammed my face into another door a few feet away.  Jerking back to save myself, I quickly noticed the large poster plastered on it—big bold letters declared a warning to minors, stating that this wasn’t the place for them.

Well, I’m certainly no minor, at least chronologically, though mentally? I mused. Completely different story.

I gave the poster a further few seconds of consideration before passing through.

The first thing I noticed was the front desk. A few advertisements and products decorated it here and there—lubricants and condoms mainly—but it wasn’t that which interested me, rather it was the human manning the desk who caught my eye.

I didn’t really know what I was expecting when I entered Pandora’s Box: A leering man with questionable stains on a rumbled spotted shirt; an Amazonian sex goddess with thighs that could crush skulls; or maybe the extravagantly dressed Madame who secretly owned a trafficking ring out back. There were many ideas and expectations I had when I first planned this trip. What I got instead was an old lady with greying hair who looked to be in her sixties or seventies. She wore modest clothes, a pale pink blouse with a short red cardigan over top.

It was… odd.

Nevertheless, what she looked like didn’t matter much at all to me. The fact that she was here, staring at me, however, was something else entirely.

She smiled, warm and welcomingly.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice as sweet as any grandmothers should.

“Hey,” I mumbled back, nerves and social ineptitude making it difficult to say much else.

I turned away quickly, wanting to forget she was even there, only to recoil in shock as the rest of the store revealed itself to me.

Just what in the Abyss had I gotten myself into?

Along the walls, hanging from hooks and on display in little island tables was an ungodly supply of dildos—some small, some so large I wondered how they’d even fit! There was more as well: lingerie, butt plugs, handcuffs, vibrators and so much more. Some of these things I couldn’t even name let alone determine their purpose.

Cheeks flared red and, much to my further embarrassment and dismay, I could feel my pants tighten. My eyes grew wide and for the next couple of seconds, all that went through my head was a steady stream of unholy screams and curses.

I had forgotten about that little fact.

I was biologically male and so I had to deal with all the aspects of being a male.

I took a deep breath and accepted that this was going to be my life for the next hour or so. Reluctantly, I began browsing, all the while attempting to reposition my newest appendage as subtly as I could. By Anu, it was uncomfortable.

As for what I was looking for, I didn’t want anything too fancy nor anything too big—just something to satisfy my curiosity—but it soon became apparent that I had absolutely no idea what I was looking for. Silicone versus rubber; double ended verses suction cup; veiny verses smooth; strap-on compatible verses that one weird dildo that looked more like featureless snowman: there were so many options to choose from that tackling size alone was its own chore, and I had no idea what any of it meant!

Oh, sure, I did spend a few weeks online researching the subject. I read a few articles about sex and masturbation, I learned that what I felt when with Josephine was “being horny” or “aroused”, and I’d seen many videos of people having sex. Yet nothing mentioned anything about the specifications of different dildos and what they meant. I didn’t even think this was going to be an issue! I just thought most of the different designs I’d seen were purely aesthetic based!

Unfortunately, it appeared my ignorance must have shown in some way as, after roughly ten minutes of staring at the shelves with confused horror etched on my face, a voice spoke.

“Would you like some help, dearie?” the old lady asked, her sweet voice unnervingly at odds with everything around her. In fact, the entire store felt off. It was quiet, casual. It was like I just walked into a convenience store but instead of lollies and Stanley knives, it sold riding crops and ball-gags.

I turned to the woman, trying my best to keep composure, and paused—at a complete loss for words. Should I ask for help? I had no idea. I didn’t want to look like some idiot, but I also didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary.

Once again, I cursed my stupidity. Of course there would be different types of dildos, each with their own pros and cons, yet all I did was get off to watching those wretched videos.

After much deliberation, I decided “to hell with it” and accepted her aid.

“Yes, please,” I replied meekly.

She smiled tenderly and left the counter, soon joining my side. It was then I realised that I was an entire head taller than her, a completely useless fact that left me feeling uncomfortable for some inexplicable reason. “Do you know what you’re looking for exactly?”

“I—ah…” I wasn’t really sure how to reply to that. Should I just out and say it? Would that be socially accepted? Or would a euphemism be in order? I had no bloody idea. “I’m looking for… I’m looking for a dildo.”

“Is this your first time?” she asked, this time with a knowing.

First time? I blushed. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Don’t worry, dearie,” she said. “I’ll help you out.”

One misunderstanding and many uncomfortable questions later, I had my vibrator in hand. While I would have much preferred a normal dildo, it at least looked far less complicated than the other toys recommended. The entire vibrator verses dildo dichotomy confused me, but not being an expert left me little room to complain. Of course, getting to that point wasn’t easy nor fun. Not only did I realise how deep the well of my stupidity goes but I think I somehow convinced the old lady that I was trans. After all, how else are you supposed to explain away a man looking for a dildo to use on his vagina?

Soon after paying, I hid the vibrator away in my satchel and left the store as discreetly as possible.

Once out, I wandered around for a bit, eventually arriving at a wooded park nearby. Hiding among the trees, I made sure none were nearby before returning to my old skin.

Shapeshifting was a queer affair. Disorientation was always something to worry about if one was unaccustomed with the art or shifting into an unfamiliar body with different proportions. However, that was only a minor inconvenience for me as it was the shift itself that was more unusual. It was by no means painful or anything, it simply felt weird. It was as if my skin and bones were melting and reshaping again and again until my body fit what form I desired. The first to change was my height, becoming noticeably shorter; my shoulders narrowed; my hips widened; my chest expanded; features became less elvish and more feminine; and then finally, my eyes shifted from a red to vivid gold.

It only took a second at the most, but I was grateful that my body was mine once again. What’s more, the annoying erection was no more, yet I still felt the tingling of anticipation twisting in my gut below, aching for release.

I fought down a shiver and took a deep breath. Every thought I had went straight beck to the vibrator in my bag: what I would do with it; what it would do to me. I was eager, ready, but I couldn’t just fly home right now—I needed batteries.

After once again checking to see if the coast was clear, four great black wings burst from my back, tearing through my shirt. A few seconds, I launched into the sky, vanishing from sight moments later.

A short stop to buy an eight-pack of batteries later and I was on my way home.

I had the house all to myself, what with my family being out for the next few hours, so I had time to satiate my curiosity. There was a reason I chose today to go out to the store.

Locking the front door behind me, I silently set the alarm spell just in case anyone attempted to break in. I then retired to my room, closing and once again locking the door before flopping onto my bed.

I was home, all alone.

The strange aching sensation had tapered off during the flight, but now that I was back, all I could think about was the vibrator and what would come next.

Sitting up, I opened my satchel and removed my newly bought toy, still sitting inside the box it was sold in.

I removed the packaging and examined the purple disembodied member. It was roughly seven inches long, curved slightly, with a realistic mould of the male genitalia. Apparently, it was a high-quality product, not only being waterproof and made of silicone but also with seven different intensities to choose from. Let’s just hope it was worth every cent I spent.

I bit my lip, my legs squirming together as the tingling warmth began spreading throughout my body. I was eager—more than eager—to find out how it would feel. Fingers were one thing, but these were supposed to be ten times better.

I smirked despite myself. Everyone said masturbation was a healthy and natural thing, even my therapist, but their words still didn’t change how I felt. Masturbation was a dirty thing, so depraved and selfish in my mind; a taboo I had never considered, yet a taboo all the same. However, these thoughts only seemed to make the action all the more exciting as if to spite it all. It was a forbidden fruit, something I shamefully tasted once and was left only wanting more.

Quickly, I summoned a Shroud of Silence around my bedroom and got ready.

With the batteries placed inside, I quickly discarded my clothes—my beanie, hair tie, shoes and socks—and threw them onto the floor with everything else that wasn’t necessary.

Next came the tattered shirt. I didn’t really need it anymore and considering the fact that it was already ruined, I tore it off and threw the remains to the floor. Without a bra, I was left bare-chested, everything from my pale lavender-grey skin to my scars—some faint, some not—and my small breasts.

I looked down, I inspected myself—the dark room, a bright monochrome to my eyes. My body felt all warm and sensitive, hyper-aware of the tingling pressure below my navel begging to be attended to. My hands roved, tempted to simply forgoing the vibrator and take matters into my own hands. The slightest touch was like sparks of electricity to my skin, enticing.

I forced myself to stop, to think clearly. I crawled onto my bed. With pillows to act as a buffer, I leaned against the headboard and spread my legs. Absently, I summoned the vibrator to hand and… stopped.

This was the first time I had ever used anything aside from my fingers and pillow, and I had no idea what I was going to expect. Of course, I had seen videos of people using them but seeing and experiencing were two completely different things.

I pressed the button sitting flush with the black base of the vibrator and instantly the room was filled with a low hum.

I squirmed at the noise, the vibrations stimulating my imagination. My legs clamped shut and I could feel my body ache to feel the massaging touch of my new toy. Like tunnel vision, the vibrator was the only thing on my mind at the moment—the desire to feel it against me, inside me; the carnal pleasures it would bring. But before I began, curiosity pushed me further. I pressed the button a few more times, each rewarding me with a new and enticing setting that picked up in intensity until it was buzzing madly in hand.

My breath hitched and quickly I switched the thing off with a final press of the button.

By Anu, I would certainly not be using that setting tonight. That was far too… too potent. I smiled nevertheless, excited to see what this night would bring.

Relaxing against the headboard, I spread my legs once again.

Slowly, the fingers of my left hand ran down my body, past the tuft of silky black pubic hair before gliding over my warm mound. I wanted to ease myself in, not be overly hasty.

First, I started with my middle digit, circling my clitoris—each movement of my finger sending sparks of pleasure, some more often than not, flowing through my body. I varied myself, trying to find that right touch, that right rhythm to get the best effect. Sometimes I would slide my finger between slippery lips, delving deep into my warmth; at other times, I would use two or more fingers, playing with myself until my head became hazy.

The only constant was how deep my breathing became and how slick my fingers got. I felt as if I could go on and on, slowly building myself up and up until that bright flash of absolute paradise. It would be easy to give into temptation, but I stopped myself, huffing a deep breath as I did.

Bringing my fingers up for inspection, I saw they were glistening, lines of wetness connecting finger to finger like a spider’s web.

I blushed. I had never been so wet before.

I knew I was enthusiastic—shamefully so—but I didn’t expect this!

I stared, almost mesmerised by the lines of fluid that coated my fingers. I had seen video after video of men and women using their mouths and tongues, tasting the viscous juices of others. I wondered how it tasted—the girls surely looked like they were enjoying themselves from what I remember.

I tilted my head and, in a fit of impulse, brought my fingers to my lips, dragging my middle finger down my tongue.

The taste… it tasted kind of… I wasn’t sure.

There wasn’t much of a taste to be honest, perhaps a bit sweet? It was underwhelming, to be honest. It wasn’t ambrosia and I certainly wouldn’t drink a glass full. But, somehow… the thought that this was what a woman tasted like?

I wondered if this is what every woman tasted like or if it was different. Did Josephine taste this way? I didn’t know but I wanted to find out—to feel my tongue running along her slick lips, tasting every inch of her. I could almost see it when I closed my eyes, her body writhing beneath me; my tongue explored every inch of her.

I brought my fingers back to my mouth, slowly lapping up the remaining nectar from each digit. This was the closest I could ever get to Josephine and I savoured every last bit, moaning as I did. My tongue grew and reformed, becoming longer and pointed, wrapping around my fingers and tasting every last drop.

Only when I was done and there was none left did I sigh, deep and content. The taste wasn’t anything special but the thought of my tongue exploring Josephine’s depths just made it so… so… delectable. My body was already hot and bothered before, but now I could barely think straight.

I turned my attention back towards my vibrator and then down towards my vagina—aching heat calling desperately to be tended to.

Readjusting my grip, I turned it on to the lowest setting and brought it down slowly. The second it brushed against me, I jerked up, stifling a small cry—a powerful jolt of pleasure, intense and sudden, shooting through me.

It… um. I— I didn’t expect that…

Suppressing a grin, I repositioned myself and pressed against me again. Just like before, pleasure shot through me, but it was more than that—a near constant assault as I pressed it between my lips. The vibrator changed pitch, and I groaned and squirmed.

I tried to be quiet, but I couldn’t help but mutter under my breath.

“Fuck…” I groaned, beginning to move the head, watching it roam around my vulva. I never let it overstay its welcome, exploring around and between soaking lips to my sensitive clitoris and everywhere else. As I did, more jolts of pleasure racked through me, soliciting moan after moan, threatening to overwhelm me.

My head lulled back, eyes closed, as my free hand moved slid up my waist and ribs, tickling my side before cupping my breast. With thumb and finger, I teased myself, pinching my hardened nipple as fresh waves drowned me in carnal delight.

My groans became louder, hungrier. I could feel that presence below my navel growing and growing as time ticked by—tense, like a spring, as if it were ready to release at any moment.

I didn’t just want more, I needed more.

I pressed the button on the base and—

“By Anu!” I cried. My body arched suddenly, an entirely new world of ecstasy taking root. I pressed the button again and again, lost in my insatiable craving for more. “Oh, fuck!”

My mind blanked, the world around me darkening as I focused purely on myself and nothing else. I felt as if I couldn’t stop, even if I wanted to. All I could think about was feeding my blind hedonism until I was left a drooling mess.

Pinching and teasing turned to rough kneading—my hand massaging and squeezing my small supple breast.

Soon, fantasies began filling my mind to tempt and stimulate. I remembered back to that particular video I watched—the one of the two women sharing in each other’s company. They would kiss deeply, their hands ever wandering, caressing, teasing. Soon, one girl began to kiss lower, down the other’s neck, past her breast and between her legs.

I couldn’t help but put myself in the other’s position, completely at the mercy to another’s masterful tongue.

But then the girl changed. No longer was she a blonde white woman taking deep pleasure in lapping up every inch of me. Instead, her skin turned a dark caramel, her hair curlier and now a deep chocolate brown. She looked at me, parting hair that obscured her face and—

My heart skipped a beat.

Josephine…

I could see her plain as day in my mind.

She crawled to me, slowly and seductively, her delicious arse swaying so tantalisingly as she did—her enthralling green eyes never wavering from mine. There was a look in those eyes, some unrestrained hunger that scared me, excited me and awoke something deep within me.

Pure bliss flooded every part of my body. I moaned her name, feeling shameful desire swirl at my desperation. That presence below my navel called out, demanding to be filled, and I obeyed.

My lips parted as I eased the vibrator in. First the head then, slowly, the rest of it began to fill me. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before. Instantly, I was intoxicated, drunk on unabashed lust. I groaned loud—loud enough that, had anyone been home, they surely would have heard.

In and out, I pumped the vibrator, building speed as I yearned to feel more. My free hand soon joined it, massaging my clitoris as the vibrator continued to send wave after wave of crushing pleasure through me again and again and again.

My fantasy continued, Josephine’s splendour still in my mind.

I soaked up every last bit of her I could remember—her eyes, her skin, those lips. Oh, how I longed to feel those luscious lips upon my own, on my neck, on my breast, teasing me with teeth and tongue.

Down, down, down, down.

How I longed for those beautiful soft lips to mark me all the way down to between my legs—to feel her tongue dance a most wicked dance around and inside me, exploring my warm depths.

Oh, how I wanted her here.

I wanted her, I so desperately wanted her here it was frustrating. I wanted her here to make me her plaything. I wanted her here to ravage me so completely that I couldn’t think straight. I wanted her here to fuck me hard and rough until I was nothing more than an incoherent babbling mess in the palm of her hands.

I gasped.

My entire body seized up, legs slamming shut onto my hands. I clenched down hard onto my vibrator. My entire body rocked. Hips bucking wildly as absolute euphoria flooded my entire body.

I felt as if I was being shattered deep into my very core—a feeling so strong and intense it almost hurt.

Muffled whine turned whimpers tried desperately to be heard as white hot bliss shot through me again and again and again and again.

Jolt after jolt of agonising pleasure ruined me, never-ending and omnipresent. I could feel it building me up and up, just as before. Every inch of me felt so sensitive, like the slightest touch could send me spiralling down all over again.

I cried out, every last moan loudly declaring my depraved deeds to the world.

I couldn’t handle it. It was just too overwhelming.

I removed the vibrator as quickly as I could, fearing that I would break. The second its ravenous touch left, I surrendered to fatigue.

My heart raced. Blood thumped loudly in my ears. My breaths, long and laboured. I was utterly exhausted.

I laid there for a moment, trying to recover my lost strength. The buzzing of the vibrator continued but a quick spell later and all that could be heard was my heavy breaths.

That was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

It was just so… so… pure. So utterly all-consuming. I could barely describe it.

Slowly, my faculties returned. My mind became clearer and my breathing soon became more measured. When my body relinquished control back to me, I summoned the silenced vibrator to hand. I could still it vibrate against my hand and so I quickly cycled through the various settings and turned it off, placing it on my bedside.

I continued laying for a time, staring up at the cream ceiling as my muscles began to relax.

After a minute or so, I pulled myself up to a sitting position and quickly looked down, noticing a sudden wetness against my leg.

I frowned, cheeks flaring hot as I realised just how soaked I, and the bed, was. Not only were my thighs glossy with the clear coating of my release, but there was a large dark stain on my sheets, intermingling with the marks of sweat.

I sighed and reclined on my bed. It’d be a pain to clean up. Next time, definitely bring a towel.

Next time.

I smiled wistfully and turned to the veiny member sitting innocently on my bedside. There was no doubt that I wouldn’t be using it again.

But now? I need to clean up and probably have a bath. A nice warm bath.