#and thinking about how they'd dress for something like this...

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette had been to amusement parks before, but it'd been so many years since her last one. It was something her parents thought to do every now and then when she was young, and she'd only had so many chances as a teen that weren't tainted with memories of akuma battles. Once she became a full-fledged adult, it was too hard to excuse going to one by herself for fun.

She didn't have an excuse anymore for two reasons, one being her daughter and the other being the tickets that Jagged Stone had practically forced upon her. The man still had just as much energy as he did when they met and appointed himself as her baby-at-the-time's "Great Uncle J," a name that both sounded young and apparently gave him every right to spoil her rotten.

That, naturally, included the tickets, though he'd added at the time that they were a reward for all of Marinette's help throughout the years, whether that be as Marinette or Ladybug.

So there they were, her and the bundle of energy clinging to her hand like they'd be separated the instant she let go, eyes enthusiastically searching the rides and stalls. Marinette was only thankful that she wasn't the kind of child to run off on her own unless it was actually something important and not a whim.

"So? Any rides look good?" she asked, sensing that her little girl was in being so overloaded in her head that she couldn't speak unless prompted to mode. It was just too obvious with how fast she was turning her head, her black hair constantly getting in her face and swishing over her shoulders.

Kalette looked up at her, then grabbed the hand she'd already been holding with her other hand. "The teacups! I gotta know what it's like to be tea in a teacup!"

"Sound logic," she complimented, trying not to giggle. Was it egotistical to think about how cute her child was when said child looked so much like her? "Do you want to eat first?"

"No! Teacups!" Kalette insisted.

"No teacups? You sure changed your mind fast," Marinette joked.

She got a pout in return. "I'm not hungry, really!"

Shaking her head in amusement, Marinette turned around and started guiding Kalette to the teacups ride. There weren't huge crowds or lines since Jagged had made sure to pick a quiet day to buy tickets for, so she was already piecing together what they might do for the rest of the current hour.

If she spins too hard, she might get tired. Maybe we could go on something gentler afterwards where she can just sit and enjoy the ride?

She started searching the area for any nearby gentle rides, but then felt a tug on her hand. She stopped walking and looked down, seeing that Kalette had stilled, staring off into the distance where Marinette was certain the teacup ride wasn't.

"Kalette?" She crouched down, squeezing her hand with a little concern. "What's wrong?"

When Kalette met her gaze, her eyes looked as if she'd been starstruck, her mouth open in awe. She tugged on Marinette's hand - intentionally this time - and pointed, exclaiming, "Mama, that man's got dyed hair just like yours, but blue!"

Marinette felt her heart skip a beat at the familiar mental image that conjured, but she shook the thought away. There was no way that man was there, and she shouldn't be getting distracted by the mental image of someone she hadn't seen in so long.

But then she looked up, following Kalette's point to a man in the crowd that had a little boy with him. The man was decently tall, dressed up a little punk but not excessively so, and had black hair dyed blue at the tips.

She felt her heart clench, recognizing him despite his back facing her. Even the tiny strand at the top of his head hadn't changed, and she involuntarily uttered a tiny, "Luka...?"

She felt sure that there was no way he could've heard her with how quiet her voice had been, yet he suddenly stopped. Her brain fumbled with thoughts about how he must've gotten distracted by something, or was taking in the sounds, or anything else, all of which were put into question when he glanced over his shoulder.

Their eyes met. She couldn't believe it, wondering if she'd tripped and been knocked unconscious as her head hit the pavement, thus making all of this some crazy dream she was having. The screams of people on rollercoasters, the smell of citrus from a nearby drink stall, and the tiny hand squeezing hers were all so vivid, but the sight of Luka Couffaine standing there was surreal.

And then Luka's eyes widened. He turned fully, the boy at his side going with him as he approached, pathing straight towards her.

"Marinette?" He sounded breathless, like he'd ran there. She was still crouched down, leaving the sky as the backdrop behind Luka's face casting a beautiful backlight onto him.

Forcing herself back to attention, she stood up, dusting off her perfectly clean pants. "Luka! Hi! It's—wow, it's..."

"It's been so long," he finished.

"Yeah!" she agreed. Feeling her daughter's dangerously curious gaze burning a hole in the side of her head, Marinette gently pulled her in front, gesturing to her with a free hand. "Oh, this is my daughter, Kalette. Kalette, this is Luka Couffaine, my..."

Friend? Ex? Guy-That-She-Never-Quite-Got-Over-But-Didn't-Realize-It-For-a-Long-Time?

"...He's Great Uncle J's son," she decided, figuring that going with association would be best. Even if she'd stuck with "friend," that was so vague as to be completely meaningless, but Kalette knew Jagged extremely well.

Luka gave Kalette a crooked smile. "Hey, Kalette. Nice to meet you." He gestured to the boy at his side, eyes flicking to both Marinette and Kalette as he introduced, "This is Nika, my son."

Son. Marinette's eyes were unconsciously drawn to his hand, noticing that he wasn't wearing anything on his ring finger. Her free hand falling back to her side, her thumb rubbed at her own ring(less) finger. She reminded herself then that it didn't mean he was single and also that it was none of her business.

"Hi, Nika," she greeted, pretending not to be going through a crisis.

"We were just going to get something to eat," Luka added, confirmed with a small nod from Nika. "What about you two?"

She opened her mouth, but a squeeze tight enough to hurt turned her attention down to Kalette. "What is it?"

"Mama, I'm hungry," she replied, completely straight-faced.

What.

—————

They ended up at a food stall, Kalette making a show of letting "everyone else" choose first out of politeness, as if she cared one bit about what they were having. Marinette didn't doubt that the little traitor intended to pawn most of the food off on her, Luka, or Nika if she ended up full after a few bites, but she couldn't call her out at the moment and left the task for later.

Having walked all the way alongside Luka, things were at least starting to feel more real, especially when their hands accidentally brushed at one point. He had a calm aura that everyone who knew him naturally gravitated towards, and it hadn't faded with time. She started to feel its effects despite the obvious trap her own daughter had put her in.

"Nika, what do you want?" Luka asked, crouching down to his son's level. "I'll order it for you."

"Um..." Nika gave a side glance at all the food items on the sign, but answered noncommittally, "Anything?"

Judging by the disappointment in Luka's expression, Marinette got the feeling that this happened a lot. She was concerned, simultaneously feeling like she shouldn't be involved, but then Luka stood up and lowered his voice to talk to her, like he felt some obligation to explain.

"Nika has a hard time asking for what he wants," he told her. "I don't know where he gets it from."

She muffled a snort behind her hand. At his perplexed look, she couldn't help whispering back, "Oh, I can't imagine where he gets it, especially not with a dad who's always looking out for everyone else and never asks for anything."

He had the decency to look embarrassed by the accusation.

Now that she was officially involved, Marinette stepped past Luka, putting herself to Nika's other side. She sat down on the ground to be more level with him, bending a leg and resting an arm on its knee to give off a more casual impression.

"Nika," she began gently, "do you think he could help me? Keep a little secret?"

The boy stared, confused by her presence but nodding along.

She leaned in, raising a hand to the side of her mouth to tell him, "I'm so bad at picking things; the worst. You know in cartoons where a character waits so long that they grow a beard? That's me, any time I have to make a decision."

Though he tried to hide his giggling, she could see the smile behind his hand.

"It's the same here. Everything sounds so good, I can't decide!" She put her hand to her chest, trying to look extra pitiful. "Can you give me a recommendation? What would you get?"

His once hesitant eyes gleamed with purpose, and he started to look at the list differently. There was a layer of seriousness there as opposed to the reluctance of someone afraid to get invested in something they weren't going to ask for anyway.

"The, ah..." He tilted his head at her. "The soft pretzel?"

"The soft pretzel!" She gasped and hit her own forehead with the palm of her hand. "Of course!"

She took his hands, bowing her head in a dramatic show of thanks, then let him go and stood back up. Leaning confidently on the counter, she held up two fingers and requested, "Two soft pretzels, please! One for me and another for the soft not-pretzel boy here."

She turned to Luka, still grinning, but it faltered at the look on his face: the brows just barely visible between his bangs, the intensity in his eyes, and the lips parted without actually saying anything.

Marinette blushed and looked away, having forgotten how utterly deadly he could be.

—————

After finding a nice set of table and chairs to sit down on, Marinette and Kalette sat on one end while Luka and Nika sat on the other. They all had soft pretzels, Kalette because it was the easiest for someone who - again - was a traitor who didn't care, and Luka for reasons she could only guess at. Perhaps it was really what he wanted, or he'd just been getting food for insurance in case Nika was still hungry, or he simply wanted to match his son.

He was so handsome. She broke off a piece of her soft pretzel and nibbled on it as she observed all the ways he'd grown up over the years. Her young teenage brain, just barely able to grasp the concept of love, did think he was handsome upon first sight, but now she could truly appreciate it. His eyes especially still had so much warmth after years and years, just as she remembered them. She couldn't say for sure if they'd changed at all actually, but at the very least, she felt even more drawn to them now.

Said eyes flicked up from his soft pretzel to meet hers. She pushed the rest of the bite in her mouth, swallowing and trying to come up with a topic of conversation, not wanting to be considered "weird" for staring without reason.

"I didn't know you had a kid," she admitted. "Jagged never told me."

Which was partially her own fault if she was honest. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in Luka's life - far from it - but she tended to change the subject whenever it came up. It felt wrong to hear about the life of someone she knew she hadn't seen in so long. She imagined that Jagged had Luka work with him on occasions like he did with her, but it'd never been at the same time.

Though, worrying that the topic of his kid might be a sensitive subject, she tried to add, "Um, you don't have to share if you don't want to."

He shrugged. "It wasn't anything serious. He was a happy accident, she didn't want a baby but didn't want to abort, and here we are."

She struggled with the idea that something so life-changing was summarized down to one sentence. She couldn't see Luka as having relations with someone unseriously, but she considered that there might've been more to it that wasn't appropriate to say in front of two kids, or to someone he'd only just met again.

"That was sweet of you," she said. "I bet you're a good dad. Being a good big brother probably carries over, right?"

He chuckled, a little shy from the praise. "I'm doing my best, but you saw that I'm not perfect."

"Now you know how it feels to be mortal like the rest of us," she teased.

The comment reminded her of a fun kid's movie she'd watched with Kalette last week. She turned to her daughter to bring it up as a new, lighter topic, but found that said daughter was no longer there. Puzzled, Marinette turned to her other side to see if Kalette had switched just as a little joke, but she wasn't there either.

Her daughter's voice then spoke from across the table, "Mister Great Uncle J's son, what do you do for your job?"

Dread washed over Marinette as she looked to where Luka was, Kalette sitting on his side opposite of Nika.

Luka, oblivious to what she was up to, smiled and answered, "I make instruments."

"Busy-ly?"

She didn't pronounce busily quite right - she might not have even known that it was a word - but he understood. "Sometimes, but Nika comes first if he needs me."

Nika averted his gaze, bashful but not unhappy to be spoken of in such a way.

Kalette nodded vigorously. "Mhm, mhm." Her eyes flicked down to his sleeve, then she grabbed onto it with both hands. "Can I see your arms?"

"Kalette!" Marinette called in a panic, face flushed and utterly mortified.

Luka, unbothered by the request, put his soft pretzel down, then pulled his sleeves back to reveal his upper arms. Marinette's next words got caught in her throat, staring even more intently than Kalette was.

She could acknowledge a pair of nice arms when she saw them. He wasn't some hyper-buff body builder, but there was noticeable muscle. It made sense for the Luka of the past, who was always decently strong from carrying around heavy musical equipment, to still have it in him.

She was so taken for that moment that she neglected to scold her daughter blatantly poking and feeling his arm. She was a little jealous, and the salt from the piece of soft pretzel she'd just finished was making her feel thirsty.

Then, Kalette declared with a beaming smile, "Mama, I want this one!" with a finger still pressing into Luka's skin.

"Hm?" Luka blinked in confusion.

Marinette snapped back to attention, her hands hitting the table. "K-Kalette!"

"He can be my daddy! He's perfect!" Kalette raised five fingers and counted off her reasoning. "He's not famous, he already has daddy training, he has strong arms to pick me up, your hair matches, and he makes stuff like you do!"

Marinette didn't think she'd ever seen Luka's face turn such a bright shade of red before. Had she not been trying to wrangle in her angel-turned-devil of a daughter, she would've found it cute.

Ah, who was she kidding? She found it cute anyway, which was part of the problem.

"Luka, I am so sorry," she said, unable to physically reach and pull her daughter back like a cat owner picking up their kitten by the scruff. "She... she does this sometimes—all the time. She gives me her opinion on the men I meet and their 'qualifications' to be my husband and her dad."

She didn't add that Luka had been the first person Kalette had ever approved of. Was that worse or better than the alternative, considering the circumstances and how unknown Luka's current feelings were to her? Nika wasn't even saying anything, totally unreadable.

Kalette pouted, protesting, "But you told me to always tell the truth!"

"Not like this!" Marinette countered, wondering how such obvious advice for a child - 'be honest' - had backfired on her.

She bit her lip, watching Luka's facial movements carefully. He was staring in her direction, but not at her face, his mouth open but not forming words.

Did Kalette break him? Was that covered by health insurance?

"I..." His mouth shut as he swallowed, running a hand through his fluffy black-and-blue hair. "I... had no idea."

She sighed in relief. He lived.

She tore another piece of soft pretzel off, trying to bring things back to somewhere casual. "This is the first time you met. Of course you had no idea—"

"—that you were single," he clarified, and it became clear then that he'd been staring at her hand before, looking for a ring just like she had to him. "I thought you were still with Adrien."

The name made her brow twitch. The embarrassment she'd felt a second ago washed away into a sea of something else entirely, her grip on her piece of soft pretzel tightening.

"Nooo!" Kalette ducked back under the table and reappeared at her original spot. She whined, trying to pry the poor thing from Marinette's hands, "You're gonna smoosh it!"

While she tried to stretch and squish the pretzel back to its original shape, Marinette let out a tired breath. Shooting Luka a sarcastic look not directed at him, she proclaimed, "Oh, yes, because why would I ever divorce Paris's golden boy, the angel among men? We were Ladybug and Chat Noir, brought together by destiny and the will of people who never left me alone."

The last part was said with extra spite, and she didn't elaborate on if she meant her friends or Paris shipping two teenagers together like they had nothing better to do with their lives. She forced herself to take a breath, having not planned to get riled up on a simple trip to the amusement park.

"Sorry—" she began to say.

"No, I... I'm sorry," Luka stammered. "I know I didn't know, but I should've."

Yet he didn't, which was crazy to her. How out of the loop was he that he missed such big news? Was it intentional on his part? Had he stayed away from news about her the same way she did for news about him?

Her next words spilled out without her meaning to; he'd always been easy to talk to. "It was years ago. The puppy love that got me through a few years of shallow dating where everything revolved around being together couldn't last when we started actually living together. That's around the time you're expected to communicate—" She intentionally said the word as if it'd been foreign to her. "—and we couldn't do that. He'd say he was fine and then blow up later, and I treated life like I was still Ladybug, where everything was on me to fix."

She placed a hand on her stomach, allowing herself a moment to think back, and her other hand went to the top of Kalette's head.

"Then I got pregnant, and I was happy." She paused for effect. "But I realized that I was already taking care of a child and one was more than enough at that age."

Luka's hand flew to his mouth to hide a chuckle that threatened to burst out. He was better at hiding it than Nika, but she still caught it.

Smiling to herself, she stroked her daughter's hair and continued, "So, I got out. Penny even planned out a nice little vacation for me so I could get away from Paris and rethink my life. I needed it; there were so many things I didn't think about until then."

His eyes narrowed in concern, wanting to ask but not sure if it was alright.

She gave a one-armed shrug, not minding. "Trauma, honestly. Turns out that being in a city you've seen destroyed in alternate timelines, were always on edge in since an akuma could attack at any time, and where you always had eyes and publicity on you no matter what form you're in isn't good for your mental health. I only ever go back so my parents and grandparents can see Kalette."

She wished she'd had a drink to sip casually from, but she made due, hoping she conveyed that she didn't need him to feel bad for her.

"It's all in the past," she insisted, and she meant it. "I'm still working out exactly what I want, but I've got a good job, a nice house, and—"

"—and me!" Kalette jumped in, setting the only semi-malformed piece of soft pretzel down on her plate so she could put both hands on the one stroking her hair.

Marinette laughed, pulling her giggly, squirmy daughter onto her lap. "I was getting there! I had to save the best for last."

Her eyes flicked back up to Luka and Nika across the table. Luka had a sad, sympathetic smile on his face, which she'd expected from him, while Nika had a fist in front of his mouth as he looked at both her and Kalette.

"I'm happy for you," Luka said, an emotion somewhere deep in his tone that she couldn't place. "I just wish I could've been there when you needed it."

He really hadn't changed at all, which made her feel even more than in the infrequent random dreams she'd had where they met again. She tried not to let it all show on her face, though her voice shook when she replied, "When you were there, it made all the difference. I know how much you cared about me."

"Care," he corrected without missing a beat. "I never stopped caring about you."

There went the whole "try not to let everything show" thing. She blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears and breaking eye contact with him. "I never stopped caring about you either. Where do you think the dye came from?"

He gaped, leaning forward in his seat. "Really?"

Kalette looked up at her, as best as she could from her place on her lap. "Really?!"

She giggled, shy at the interest but not to where she was going to lie about it. "A few years after Kalette grew up, I finally felt like I carved out a life for myself away from Paris." She still couldn't bring herself to look at him, but turned her gaze enough that she could see his face out of the corner of her eyes. "You know how some people cut their hair as a new start?"

He nodded.

"Well, I dyed mine." She ran her fingers through the pink tips of her bangs. "Kalette liked practicing doing my hair anyway, so I couldn't cut it, but... it felt right to dye it. You always looked so confident with yours, and—"

"It's amazing." Luka sounded like he'd blurted it out, which surprised her, as he'd always seemed to think through everything he said otherwise. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," she squeaked, twisting a strand of her dyed hair. "You too."

He beamed at her, reminiscent of a Luka from the past wearing her silly Kitty Section costume and confessing to her while an assortment of colored stage lights shone bright in the background. It was almost too much for her heart to take.

Nika, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke up. "Kalette?"

He'd never said the name before and it sounded odd on his tongue. Luka in particular was shocked that he'd spoken up at all.

It was also the first time the two kids had addressed each other, but Kalette replied affably, "Mhm~?"

He glanced at Luka, then Marinette, then back at Kalette. "Can we share?"

Luka and Marinette flushed all over again. Kalette, meanwhile, brightened like the sun and hit the table with her tiny fists, exclaiming, "Yeah we can!"

"Kalette!"

—————

After everyone had finished their soft pretzels (or passed them off to someone else when they were full), it was mutually agreed that they'd continue enjoying the amusement park together, and not just because Kalette and Nika wanted to. It was a chance to reconnect, and it was reigniting positive feelings that Marinette hadn't thought she'd be able to have again.

Luka put the plates in a little stack, then went along with the rest of the group to the nearest trash bin to discard them. Nika had already been holding his hand out, so Luka took it and turned to walk with him, instructing gently, "Let's go."

"Ah—wait—!"

Before Marinette had even realized it, her hand shot out and grabbed Luka's other hand. He looked back at her, immediately worried that something had gone wrong, but she hadn't tripped and there was no emergency that required hand holding of all things.

"Uh..." She trailed off, fumbling for reasoning. "I... don't want to get separated?"

It was a laughable excuse out of context - the place wasn't even crowded - but she hadn't been referring to the amusement park. Seeing him turn away from her and make any distance brought a fear that'd laid dormant for so long.

She let out a small noise as he pulled her closer. Their eyes met, his own half-lidded as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Me neither."

She couldn't bring herself to ask him if he meant it the way she'd meant it or the way it had sounded, but the knot in her stomach that had been there ever since their break-up as teens was slowly coming undone. It told her something, even if she couldn't address it at the moment.

Kalette was at her other side, bouncing excitedly and holding her other hand. She was really there, a single mom with her daughter, and now she was with Luka, a single dad with his son. To any onlookers, it really would've appeared like they were two parents taking their kids to the amusement park.

Her grip on Luka's hand tightened, determined not to let go again, and she felt him squeeze back.

[hanfourz]

— l.rw thought [s]

🪼 - i am very much still here.... riwoo get out my head (and get in my bed)

warnings: MDNI, fem bodied!reader, making out, no dialogue, riding, also not proofread sry :p

thinking abt getting all dressed up and going to an event together. as soon as you meet him at your door when he picks you up, he knows he's done for. you look absolutely to die for, he swears he starts salivating. you see his eyes scan over you figure and back up to your face like three times before he actually says something. he gets all nervous, making you giggle because now he's clearing his throat and tripping over his words. you tell him he looks good too but the tone in your voice makes him shiver.

the whole event y'all are connected at the hip, where he goes you go and vice versa. that part isn't uncommon for you two though. any time you're at an event together, you stick like glue. what is out of the ordinary is how touchy riwoo has been the whole night. he usually likes to keep a hand on you whether it's around your waist or resting on the small of your back. but tonight feels different, his touches more purposeful and lingering. an arm wrapped firmly around your hips, fingers splayed over your thigh when you're sat next to each other, hand grazing down your spine every so often. you don't know if he's actually trying to get you riled up or not but it's working and by the end of the night you're more than hot and bothered.

when you two finally say all your goodbyes, it takes every ounce of your self control to not drag him out the venue. and it takes you even more self control to not tell the driver to pull over when you two on on your way back home. riwoo doesn't make it any easier on you either, his dainty hands rubbing your thigh and his fingers drawing patterns that leave goosebumps. you think you're practically vibrating with need by the time you get to the hotel. and you're almost positive riwoo can tell by now, every time he tries to start a conversation you seem barely focused on the words coming out his mouth and more on the way his lips are moving and how pretty they look and how good they'd feel on- you look away before you jump across the seat. he smirks to himself, picking up on all your cues. he feels a little smug knowing you're just as affected because truthfully he's been thinking about getting you out your clothes pretty much the entire time.

you two are silent on your way through the very pristine lobby of the hotel, only the sounds of your shoes on the tile and the low murmurs of the late night staff who pay you no mind. none of that really matters to you though when riwoo laces his fingers through yours and all but drags you to the elevators. as soon as the doors close, you scan around and hope to not spot a camera. unfortunately you do but you don't let it deter you as you step closer into your pretty boyfriends space. he looks slightly panicked as you corner him and he whispers about the cameras. you just shrug as a tiny smirk plays on your lips. he sucks in a sharp breath when you're pressed chest to chest and his hands are immediately grabbing at your hips. when you press your mouth to his, he almost moans fully sinking into the kiss. it's heated and rushed as your arms wrap around his shoulders and you pull him in closer. your whimper into his mouth and he feels hot all over. your hands tangle into his hair and his caress your sides.

when the elevator dings, you both pull away hastily and try to fix yourselves. luckily there's no one there when the doors open and you two practically sprint to your room, him fumbling slightly with the keycard while your hands find purchase on his waist. as soon as you've successfully shut the door, you're back on each other. he's murmuring about how beautiful you are between kisses and you just hum at his words, more concerned currently with getting his suit jacket off. he chuckles breathily at your impatience before taking it off, throwing it somewhere in the room. your hands are grabbing at his waist again, pushing him back towards the bed. he stumbles back, collapsing onto the sheets and letting out a little noise of shock when you're immediately climbing over him. you start kissing down his neck, undoing his buttons while he starts to take off his tie. you pull away to catch your breath and start to undress yourself as he watches, swollen lips slightly parted. once you've both rid yourself of your clothes, you run your hands over his smooth skin. you tell him how pretty he is and watch a blush spread over his neck. his hands start to roam from your hips to your chest, fondling your tits and causing you to sigh into his touch. when you start to grind yourself on top of him, he lets out a breathy moan. soon enough, you're completely naked and riding him within an inch of his life while his fingers work wonders over your clit.

[intheshadows2000s]

Move on Up

What comes next? Next to nothing?

Warnings: 18+, smut

This is Part Two

Part One

The rest of the week disappointed you. You'd had an expectation after that day in his office, or at least a slither of hope that it would build some sort of relationship between the two of you. But just like before, Alex ignored you.

You'd not approached him, after it was you who had gone to his office, you were sure it was his turn to make a move. And yet, he didn't. It might seem like playground behaviour to sit back and hope, to refuse to be the adult forcing a needed conversation. But you didn't care how childish it was or how pathetic you seemed, you wouldn't be the first to crack.

Every night that had passed, you'd squirmed in your bed thinking about what happened in his office. Of course, you found him attractive in general but knowing what he could do, how attentive he could be, was as shocking as it was impressive. And you just couldn't get him out of your head.

You barely saw him in the corridors, or the staff room. Or anywhere, really. If he'd booked a room before you, he'd scramble right out of it without even a glance in your direction. You refused to believe it was shyness after how confidently he had taken you, how dominant his hand had been between your thighs, how his gaze hadn't wavered, not even once. You pinned it down to him just being an arse, getting a small fix and then deciding that was it, that was all you were gonna get.

Friday rolled around and the head of your faculty had arranged some sort of mixer at a local bar. It was quite busy; good places to drink were rare around these parts so most people came here. The place was bathed in some warm, yellow glow making everybody look interesting, as if everyone was hiding something and everyone around them was trying to figure out what. Blacks, browns, oranges and whites blended like the people had matched the season, representing the colours of the fallen leaves. It was warm and your spiced rum and coke only aided you. Your eyes glowed at the socialism of it all, your cheeks were that perfect shade of red. You looked good and you'd deliberately tried to look good because you knew he would be here.

Alex stood with a pint of lager at hand, dressed the most casual you'd ever seen him in a pair of denim blue jeans, a white shirt that appeared slightly transparent under the low lights, buttoned down more than usual so you caught sight of some dark hair on his chest and a gold chain glistening. He had a blonde leather jacket on that surely didn't aid him with any warmth, not in the minus degree weather that had plagued the town recently and yet he seemed perfectly composed as he sipped inconspicuously on his drink. His hair was back today, just one strand falling over his forehead and although still bouncy, it looked like he'd actually put some effort into it. He looked good and even though the scent of beer and wine lingered in the air of the place, you could somehow still smell his old spice.

You were in your element, lost in conversations with various different faculty members. You'd fast made friends with one of the younger girls who worked here as an assistant, though she was still a few years older than you. She told you all about her life, her husband and her son. You listened carefully even if your eyes did keep straying back to him.

He stood alone, lingering at the edge of the group. It wasn't as if people were ignoring him on purpose. They'd tried to speak to him and you'd watched as he'd answered in short replies and then looked back towards his drink, as if he was here to merely observe rather than engage.

The night dragged on, you were quite enjoying yourself even if the presence of a certain someone dampened your spirits. At one point you were talking with Jane, the head of your faculty, David, another lecturer had joined the conversation. And Alex happened to be involved.

"You do that don't you mate? Hold sessions after hours?" Dave looked over to him, his lazy gaze that had been fixed on you widened as he got caught. His elbow that was leant in a casual manner over the bar suddenly sharpened and he stood straight, composing himself in a matter of seconds.

"Yes, if the students need it," Alex drawls, his accent more prominent and yet timid against the noise in the bar. There were so many people here now that you were all squished in like sardines, holding your drinks close to your chest to avoid them being spilt. It wouldn't be long until everybody started to disperse considering the music was getting louder and the youngens were starting to dance, you would grow too old and boring for the atmosphere within the hour. But for now everybody remained, tipsy, jeery, spirits high. All except for him. Though even if the fun seemed evasive to him, the tipsiness had clearly kicked in judging by the pink in his cheeks and how his words were less precise.

"Samantha was saying she was thinking of doing some before exams, after Christmas," David spoke for you, nodding towards your figure, tensed and pursed lips indicating that your words weren't supposed to be for your ears.

Alex's eyes found you again, softened around the edges before they suddenly sharpened up and became vacant as ever.

"Personally I find it's a waste of time, the students rarely show up for it," David says, probably not meaning to sound as bitter as he does, but you wince anyway.

"It's not about the quantity David, it's about the quality. I'd rather one student benefit, than none at all," Alex's voice wasn't sharp but his words were curt and made David scramble, backtracking on his statement in a flurry of embarrassment that made you bite back a smile.

"No I think it would be brilliant Sam," Jane hums, her hand finding your arm in a gentle squeeze of reassurance, "I know Alex's performance has been praised by the Dean on that alone. We can definitely send out an email for it."

"That would be great," you smile.

"Perhaps you could show her the ropes Al," Jane turns to him, catching him halfway through a sip of his drink, his eyes still lingering on you, "show Sam the outline you've formed for them. Seeing as you teach similar things."

"Mhm," Alex nodded, pink tongue darting out to catch the few droplets of beer that had tainted his lips. The emphasis of it wasn't meant to be alluring and yet your eyes fixed on the pink, supple flesh and your memory came into play - how they'd moved against yours expertly, how he'd made you feel so good with them. The thought of it makes you squirm, looking away quickly before you embarrassed yourself by turning as red as a tomato right in front of your boss.

"Enough work talk anyway!" David exclaimed, recovered from his embarrassment, he turns to Alex, "how are you getting on man? Still seeing that bird from psychology?"

Your ears ring with curiosity, your heart pounding in your chest. You hadn't really considered that you were both at the ages to be married. You are thirty, he's a few years older. He could well have a whole wife, kids and four bedroom house with a white picket fence. And yet you'd not even thought about the possibility of him having someone, seeing someone, nonetheless.

Alex looked annoyed, his eyes thinning at Dave. His clear dislike for him tainted the air, Jane's gaze falling to the floor and yours on your drink. Tension rolled off him in waves as you saw his thighs tense beneath his jeans.

"I wasn't ever seeing her, David."

"Ah well, she definitely wanted it," he slurred in response, you weren't looking but you could hear the smile on his lips. The teasing tone clearly paid no mind to how pissed off Alex had sounded, his voice low and dangerous sending a shiver down your spine.

"We had a professional relationship and that's all David," Alex snapped, "I'd rather you stayed out of my business."

"Yes okay Mr, Mystery," David held his hands up, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips as Alex's eyes bored into him as if he meant to send him to hell. With the intensity of the glare, you imagined he probably could if he wanted to.

Suddenly a ringing broke out, snapping you all out of the awkward moment. Jane sighed in relief, eyes lighting up as she lifted the device to her line of vision.

"Right that's my husband. He's outside," she said, she couldn't sound anymore pleased if she tried, the relief seeping into the kind, tropical sea coloured eyes of hers. She turned to you, catching you in a small, friendly hug as she said her goodbyes.

David announced he'd walk her out for a cigarette which left just you and Alex. Everyone else was engaged around you. Even though the worst of the moment had passed, the stifling tension still lingered. Your eyes darted from left to right, blurs of lights in your vision as you tried to decide what to settle on.

"He's a twat, right?" Alex's voice brought you back to the present and you glanced at him. He'd found his casual positioning again, elbow against the bar, fingers darting out to call the bartender over. You watched him, stood with your muscles taut, not really knowing what to do or say.

"Pot, kettle, black, right?"

Your tongue is sharp and whips across him, but he doesn't wince or retreat. Instead, the corners of his mouth lift into a smirk, one that makes your blood boil, your heart thumping hard enough to be heard in your ears.

"Do you want another?" Alex nodded to your glass, drained completely. You probably shouldn't, right now you're standing comfortably on that fine line between tipsy and drunk. You'll be fine but probably a little looser with your lips, and you're not sure you can afford to be saying things you wouldn't usually, in front of someone that has hurt your ego.

"No," you shake your head, "I'm going to go home."

You place your empty glass on the bar, turning to the rest of the group to say your goodbyes when his hand catches your arm. You jolt as if he's an electric current and he's just zapped you into stupidity, turning around to face a pair of pleading eyes and tight lips.

"Stay."

"What for? It's not like you'll speak to me," you sound brattier than you intend to. It makes Alex smile but he keeps it hidden, not wanting to piss you off even more than he already has. His long fingers circling your wrist rub your skin softly, reminding you of where they'd been and just as firm.

"Stay. And I will."

A beat passes. You consider your options. It would be satisfying to turn him down after his lack of attention this past week, but would it be what you want? No. You want to find out more about the enigma that is him before you stride off with a high head - including who this psychology woman is.

"Spiced rum and coke."

Relief fills his gaze as his hand drops from your arm, his attention back on the bar, "ice?"

"No."

He nods and then the bartender comes towards him. A young girl who seems to blush the second his mouth opens. He orders the drink and pays for them, and you let him. Once they're before you both, he angles his body towards you. He lets his eyes trail over your dress, a little striped body-con piece that hangs between classy and still attractive. There's not much to meet the eye at first but you had chosen a bra that makes your bust look bigger and Alex finds no shame in looking, drinking in the sight of the same flesh he'd licked and nibbled at only days prior.

"So you often fuck faculty members then?"

"Dave likes to stir the pot," he shrugs, "Joanna is a friend and that's all. Very interesting, actually. You'd probably like her yourself."

"Right."

"Do you wanna come back to mine?"

"What?"

He catches you off guard once more. Just as you'd lifted the drink to your lips, you splutter at the edge of the glass. He watches you tentatively as you clear your throat, wiping your mouth, regathering yourself.

"Do you?"

"Alex you haven't spoken to me all week...." you gasp at him, keeping your voice low so the other staff, stood only a few feet away, won't hear you. You glance to them now but they're all drunk and engrossed in their own conversations, not the least bit interested in little miss motivated and Mr. Moody.

"We never usually speak," Alex says, actually having the audacity to look confused. You let a few moments pass, expecting him to follow it up with an excuse or even something offensive, like he wouldn't want to anyway or something. But he continued looking at you like the suggestion of a conversation is an alien idea leaving your mouth.

"Right but we....had an encounter. After that, people usually speak!"

Alex cocks his head, "well why didn't you speak to me?"

"You're the one who said I was pretty," you hissed, "you started it."

He smiled, "you asked me to kiss you."

You were left with no words. You couldn't really argue that, he had a point. He might of admitted his attraction but he didn't make a move, you did. But then....the ball was in his court right? Right? You were doubting yourself now, your face scrunched up in thought as you tried to form a response.

"Anyway," Alex stood straight, adjusting his jacket as if he meant to leave now, even though he'd just bought you a drink, "do you want to come? You don't have to."

"I don't have to?" you raised your eyebrows and his eyes softened again.

"I'd like you to," he corrected himself and you felt a streak of....proudness? Proudness that he'd actually managed to get something in an interaction right. He was clearly socially unaware, or at least hadn't dated a woman in a while.

"Well what would we do?" you wonder. Truthfully your resolve has crumbled, you already know that you're going to take him up on his offer. You hold the rim of your glass to your lips, the lingering taste of whiskey on your tongue somehow convincing it to say things you usually wouldn't, even if your head is clear.

Alex's eyes darken, playfulness overtaking his usually awkward and inept self. He leans in closer, his own hand gripping the glass in his hand tight. He's moved onto whiskey, on the rocks and it suits him. He looks unexplainably sexy like this.

"Whatever you want," his voice, deepened, made every hair on your body stand to his attention. You felt your muscles tense and then loosen, your eyelids grow heavy as arousal overtook your senses, your ability to think clearly.

Twenty minutes pass and suddenly your back is against the door of Alex's flat. He hasn't even switched the lights on, too engrossed in the feel of you, the curve of your body against his own. He'd kissed you before the taxi had even arrived, out the front away from any watchful eyes of your colleagues. In the taxi, his hand had slid up your thigh, his other gripping the back of your neck. It was like you were two horny teenagers that couldn't get enough, but quite honestly, you didn't care.

Your attraction to him proceeded your understanding of why. You could sit there trying to figure out all day why you felt so drawn to him, not just because of his looks but because of something else, simmering below the surface of him. Something intriguing, alluring. Something you couldn't pinpoint but certainly weren't going to bother trying when he was against you like this.

Alex kissed you hot and heavy, desperation seeping from him. His hands rubbed at your waist, his hips pinning you against the door. This time, your skirt had ridden up, and your tights were thin enough that you could feel the hardness, the heat of him beneath his jeans. His bulge pressed against the fabric, swollen and aching for something, anything to make it go away.

"Fuck...." he muttered against your lips, so quiet it was almost imperceptible. Your blood spiked, you felt like you couldn't get any hotter, couldn't get any more immersed in the moment if you tried. Everything was him to you. He lifted you up soon enough, large palms squeezing at your bum, nails digging into the thin denier of your tights, you could hear them catching and ripping but you didn't care about that - not right now.

He carried you over to the settee, laying you down on the cushions. The leather stuck to your skin, you were hot and sweaty but that seemed insignificant in the moment. Alex pulled at your dress until it was off and threw it somewhere across the room, the soft thud of it being the only sound to emit other than both of your laboured breaths. His knee landed between your legs as he ripped his leather jacket off and did the same, his eyes glistening in the darkness but other than them, you could barely make his face out.

The darkness amplified the tension, you couldn't work out what his next move may be but it always pleased you. You reached up to unbutton his shirt and he couldn't refrain from catching your lips as you did so, your hands fumbling against the soft fabric. It took you a while and you grew impatient, groaning against his lips but he kept you occupied with his teeth and tongue, kissing down your neck and sucking on your pulse point, making you moan and your actions get lost as you succumbed to the pleasure.

You fell back against the cushions as Alex took over for you, the last few buttons dealt with and the shirt thrown across the room to join the rest of the discarded clothes. His body was lean, his skin paled by the moonlight that filtered through one of the windows, momentarily illuminating him in a soft, baby blue shade that made him look ethereal - like an angel with his dark hair falling over his forehead, slightly blocking your view of his eyes making them look dark, desperate and it sent a shiver of arousal through you that had your heels digging into his bare back once more.

He hissed but the pain only spurred him on. His body curved into yours like you'd become each other. You slid a hand between you both to cup his bulge, sensing his need in the roll of his hips. He groaned, whimpered more like and let his head fall into the curve of your neck, lazy wet kisses splattered around your chest as you continued to grope him, making out the shape, the hardness of him - getting used to the feel.

"Can I fuck you?" he said, so quietly and yet the question despite its nature was almost polite. You giggled as his head lifted, eyes catching yours in a silent plea, urging you to say yes.

"Mhm," you teased, a laugh fell from his lips before he reached down, undoing his trousers and shoving them just below his bum. You couldn't see what was coming but the anticipation of the unknown made your stomach flip.

You could feel him pressing against you, his body tensing in preparation but there was something he seemed to be forgetting.

"I'm wearing my t-"

A tear cut you off, before you felt the cool air gushing towards your heat. You gasped, Alex moved your panties aside, not caring for the sound. Within seconds he was aligned with you, gazing down at you with heavy lidded eyes and his chest heaving.

There was no time for foreplay, no time for theatrics or cuddles or sweet kisses - not this time. Alex stroked himself fast, spitting on his hand and spreading it up his length before he pushed inside you in one, swift motion.

You gasped, back arching as he fell forward, his hands landing either side of your head. He felt impossibly big, so big in fact that it was genuinely hurting. You gripped his shoulders, nails digging crescent shapes into the soft skin to initiate your need for time.

"Sorry love...." Alex whispered. He kissed your cheek and then your lips, moving just a little at first to get you used to the feel. But it burned. It burned so bad, your eyes were squeezed shut and you were still gripping him tight, as if that alone would stop his hips from moving.

"It's okay....I just need a minute," you gasped, voice strained. He didn't push you, leant down and kissed you again, this time a little softer. His hair tickled your forehead, making you giggle and you felt him smile against your lips.

Slowly but surely, the pain eased. Alex was busy sucking lovebites into the tops of your breasts, his face buried in your cleavage, the bra offering a perfect valley for his nose to fit into. He seemed to be enamoured by them, you mentally patted yourself on the back for wearing the right bra for the occasion.

"Ready?" his voice, gruff and tender ripped you from your daydream. You nodded, bracing yourself by moving your arms under his so you could hold the sharp muscles of his back.

"Relax for me darling," he said, "you're so tight right now, I can barely move."

You couldn't help but chuckle again, letting your muscles relax. And with that, Alex started to move. He was slow at first, his cock dragging against your walls. The pleasure built slowly with each and every thrust, his angle becoming more accurate based on your sounds alone.

"Fuck," he hissed, his fringe completely covering his eyes now as he bowed his head, his shallow breath hitting your cheek in warm bursts, "it's been a while for me. I might not last long."

"That's okay," you gasp, your fingers twining with his hair, you angle your body better so you're near enough embracing him as his thrusts get faster, "just don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Not gonna stop," he chuckled but it was short lived before you clenched, squeezing him just right for a low groan to leave his lips. He kept his eyes closed, his mouth parted making way for the gasps and groans that just kept falling free, even though it was clear he didn't want them to.

"You're so fucking big Alex."

And you're not lying. You've never had anyone so big in your life. It feels like you're a virgin all over again, the way he's pushing everything inside of you, near enough reaching your stomach.

With your words, he starts to move faster. Hips clashing against yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room and mingling with the sinful groans falling from both of your lips.

"You're loud, aren't you?" he chuckles, "feel good?"

"Yes, feels so good," your eyes roll back, your body going slack against the settee. Alex moves his hands to your hips and digs his nails in, adjusting himself so he's on his knees and he starts pulling you towards him at the same time as thrusting into you.

It's hard and fast and desperate. There's no love in it, you wouldn't even say there's a hint of him liking you. It's as if he's fucking horny and you're just something to fuck. And what's worse, is that you like it. You like him using you.

He moves one of his hands towards your clit, finding the bundle of nerves swollen and sensitive, just for him. The smirk that grows on his lips is near sinister, you watch him with your lip caught between your teeth as he spits directly onto your centre, starting to rub in fast circles.

You see stars. You're starting to learn that he's got the ability to make that happen. Like he's a human telescope and you're zooming into each and every star with every thrust he makes.

"Drop your lip darling, fuck I need to hear you," he gasps, the angle making you tighter, his cock twitching.

It hasn't been long but truthfully, you're not far off yourself. You follow his commands, your lip dropping and your sounds echoing off the walls once more. His eyes spark with something sordid, a grunt leaving gritted teeth as he starts to go faster, harder, so impossibly deep that it feels like he's knocking you out.

"God-I'm," his words stumbled along with his hips, you watched as his face twisted, his mouth dropping open with a hearty groan. You knew this was it, his eyes widened in warning and he suddenly pulled out, his entire body convulsing as he groped the base of himself and spilled onto your stomach. It painted your skin, warm splatters landing from the bottom of your stomach to the top of your chest, marking you.

Sorrow followed a bliss filled expression before Alex suddenly disappeared. In the haze of your lingering pleasure, you couldn't even comprehend where he's going until you feel his fingers plunge into you. Following quickly, his tongue on your clit, hard and fast flicks that make your hips writhe and your mouth release sounds you didn't even think you could make.

The pressure in your lower body builds before you can even register it, your hand flying to his hair to push him closer, legs landing on his shoulders. You snap in an instant. Just one more suck of your sensitivity and you're writhing, screaming out his name as white clouds your vision.

He laps at you until you squirm, pushing him away gently by his hair. And then he sits up, and you see his lips and chin glistening with your release, his lips swelled from the intensity.

"Sorry love," he said, breathless and weak toned, "I told you it's been a while."

"It's fine," you managed, melting into the leather beneath you. Becoming nothing but a puddle beneath him, you let your head roll backwards onto the cushion with a gentle whimper.

You were still catching your breath. Alex laid spent at the other side of the settee, still staring before him towards the moonlight. His eyelashes cast dark shadows on the bulb of his cheeks, the lull of his breathing soothed you, already steady but you weren't sure if that was a good thing. He was unmoving and vacant, and you couldn't work out what he was thinking.

Suddenly you felt uncomfortably sticky, his cum still splattered across your stomach was now cooling and you felt too awkward to ask for a tissue. You sat up slightly,  wincing as your muscles tensed and your core felt on fire.

At the feel of you moving, Alex seemed to come back to. He glanced around to you, his head moving slowly. It was almost robotic, but then he glanced down and frowned.

"Sorry....I....I'll get you a tissue."

He stood, pulling his trousers up and tucking himself away, turning the light on the way to the bathroom. The moment was gone and it wasn't as if it hadn't been good, no, great but he was now acting weird and distant and you couldn't help but feel a bit....used.

Nonetheless, you smiled and thanked him shyly when he handed you some soft tissue and you wiped up the remainder of his release.

Minutes passed of silence. You'd pulled up your panties and your dress down. You'd have to go without tights for the time being but that was the least of your concerns. Alex hadn't said a word, he hadn't even looked at you. He just sat at the end of the settee, still as a statue.

"I....er....its late, so...." you stood, sensing his desperation to be alone. He pulled a hand through his hair, already messy from your own movements. He nodded but didn't look over at you and that alone made you cringe. You pulled your bag up, wrapping your coat back over your shoulders as if it might hide the shame that had overtaken you.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

You'd just given him exactly what he asked for. Came to his place after he literally ignored you for a whole week and now he wouldn't even speak to you after he'd just fucked you? You were starting to gauge that he wasn't some socially clueless bloke but in fact, just an arse with no regard for your feelings or the cost of his actions.

"No," Alex seemed to come to life again, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes caught on yours, hand holding you hostage just like he had at the bar, "stay. For a bit, at least."

"Okay."

You sit back down on the settee just as Alex angles his body towards yours. He seems to be reanimated, less in his head and more present which you appreciate. He smiles warmly, letting it reach his eyes as you cosy up again, right into the corner, still in your coat like it's a layer of protection from his inevitable dismissal.

"Sorry, I get a bit...." he waves his hands over his head, ignoring your quirked brow, "you know...."

You nod, even though you have no idea what he means. You think you can gauge what he's trying to say - just about - and you feel the same. At least he didn't let you leave feeling shit. Yet your heart is still in your hands, beating less per second that he offers nothing but awkward little smiles and silences that stretch on for what feels like hours.

"You were great," he assures you, placing a hand on your knee. The gesture isn't alluring, and it isn't meant to be. It feels more like a patronising praise than something for you to blush over, "want a brew?"

Alex ended up putting on some show from the two-thousands. It was about the only time you'd seen him properly laugh, and the humour was frivolous at best, but you managed to relax - just about. You didn't talk about what happened and he didn't try anything again. It was almost like you were two mates hanging out, except there wasn't much talking and he was just your co worker. As if he hadn't just been buried inside you a mere hour ago, as if the whole thing hadn't happened at all.

You left soon after, claiming you were tired and this time he didn't argue but he at the very least walked you to the door and proclaimed he'd see you on Monday. He hadn't watched you walk away, nor had he waited to see if you were safely in your Uber. He didn't offer his number and he didn't offer any thanks. He just saw you out. End of.

You're a romantic at heart, but you're not completely delusional. After a few years being single, you know how casual things work and you'd shagged a few blokes here and there when you felt like it. But this felt different. Alex made you feel wanted, but just as quickly as he could fill you with that confidence, he could rip it away and make you feel like nothing all over again. It was confusing, something you wallowed in for the rest of the weekend.

You saw him first thing on Monday morning. He was sat as he usually did, at the table with one leg crossed over the other, hunched over a bowl of cereal. He was engrossed in some book but you didn't pay much mind to which one, you averted your gaze to Jane who was greeting you and rambling about the weather. The sharp, blue lights of the staff room made your head ache, along with her mundane ramblings piercing your ears and his presence making you feverish - you felt overwhelmed and ill in this setting.

"Sorry Jane," you grimaced, stopping her mid sentence, "I just need to....set up."

"Oh, okay love," she said, you swivelled in your step ignoring her worrisome gaze and practically soared out of the room.

Days passed of the same ordeal. Nothing came of what happened between you. Alex remained professional and quiet, not once did he look at you with even a hint of recognition in his eyes. At this point you were pissed off and you weren't going to fall for it anymore.

Friday morning, you strode into the staff room with your head held high deciding you'd refuse to cower today - no matter how much he made you squirm. But you were caught off guard. The door swung open and he came into view but he wasn't alone. His gaze, usually bored and fixed on a novel before him, was now fixed on a woman with jet black hair down to her shoulders and a blocky fringe that hid half her eyes. Their voices were low, their faces close as they hissed hushed words you couldn't hear. But the second they heard the soft close door thud gently behind you, they looked up, wide eyed as if they'd forgotten they were in public at all.

"Sorry," you grimaced, feeling the soft thud of your heart grow quicker beneath its cavity. You'd really expected to thrive today and start the weekend off well, and now you're bursting into the middle of some lovers riff? How fitting.

Alex meets your eye, his own softening with understanding, as if he knows how this looks. But he doesn't say anything and you look away before he can plead you anymore with those criminal puppy dog eyes.

Even though she'd briefly glanced over, she obviously had no idea who you were. She just continued on, hushed words that you couldn't make out and even though he was clearly focused on you - that didn't stop her.

But the vibe, the way they were hunched close together, the clear annoyance in her whispers even if you couldn't hear the words - it all proved what you feared - she was something more to him.

You spent the whole day in some weird state of mind where you couldn't quite focus but your thoughts weren't crystal clear. Every so often, you'd think back to what you'd seen - admittedly more than you wanted to - and it was keeping you distracted from even teaching properly.

When the end of the day came around, you breathed a sigh of relief. You were in your office, packing up for the day, grateful that in a matter of minutes you'd be pulling up at home and you could enjoy your peace or at least wallow in self pity with no one to bear witness.

But when a knock sounded out at your door, you sighed audibly. It was rare that you were kept after hours and any other day you'd be more than willing to engage, but you weren't in the right state of mind currently to hold a conversation with Jane about material, or David about his day. You just couldn't be bothered, and your less than enthusiastic 'come in' would allude to that more than you realised.

But it shocked you when the door swung open and instead of the two faculty members you were dreading seeing, it was even worse.

Alex stood almost sheepishly at the door, the rush of the students behind him soon muted when he closed it gently. He turned to you with a dismayed expression, often conveying what he was trying to say without using his words. But he wasn't getting away with it that easy.

"Can I help you?"

Alex sighed, moving towards the chair opposite your desk. He moved languidly, drawing out the tension and the steady thrum of your heart soon turned into racing bangs that made your chest tight. You watched him with a neutral expression, but the annoyance in your eyes was clear and he, with his guilty gaze, was clearly aware of it.

You crossed your arms as he sat, leaning back in your chair and watching him, watch you. He leant on his thighs, elbows digging into the grey trousers leaving indents. He was putting a lot of pressure on them but his hand trawled through his hair, and it was clear his positioning was the last thing on his mind.

"What you saw earlier...." he started, his voice an octave higher than usual, he took a second to clear his throat but you couldn't wait any longer to give him a piece of your mind. Your chair scraped along the wood of the floor as you stood, packing your things away in a flurry of annoyed movements.

"I'm guessing that was Miss Psychology who I'd love!" you exclaimed, voice full of sarcasm and yet the misplaced, underlying hurt in your words proceeded your desire to come across as just pissed off.

"Sam-"

"What was the point in sleeping with me?" you cut him off, hands flying around to amplify your words - the only relief from the disbelief that's been brewing all day, "what was the point in any of this Alex? You didn't need to ask me to come back to yours, you didn't need to kiss me when I asked you to. If you're seeing someone, you could well have just said and I would've left you alone - but no - you lied like most men do and you-"

"Samantha-"

"-paid no mind to how that may make me feel! I'm not saying I'm stitching a wedding dress and telling everyone I've met someone just because of these things but Christ Alex! Cheating! Barely speaking to me after! What the fuck is wrong with you? I refuse to believe that it's just because you're awkward! You're clearly just an-"

"Samantha!" he shouted, his voice sharp and making you gasp as your words got lost. His hand had collided with the desk, the thump echoing throughout the room, the silence that followed a harrowing dance of who could get more annoyed.

You stared at him, your shock fading into disapproval and he stared right back, the anger slowly fading as he sighed again.

"I'm not seeing anyone....Joanna isn't....its not like that," he said, useless as ever at conducting a sentence that was actually informative. He wouldn't be here if he didn't know you'd be angry, so what was the point in it?

"You were arguing with her Alex! And if it's because you fucked me-"

"It has nothing to do with that, or you at all," he cuts you off again, "you're misunderstanding things."

"Oh! Classic! I'm the crazy overthinker that needs to-"

"You're being ridiculous, if you don't want to hear me out, I'll just leave."

He glares at you and you back down, unwillingly but you know it's necessary if you want an explanation. With a hefty, almost bratty, sigh - you collapse back into your seat. Alex seems to be gathering his thoughts, eyes fixed on his shoes, fingers fiddling with each other.

"I have a daughter."

You raise your eyebrows, the same time that your mouth falls open like it means to catch flies. A thick, awkward silence follows - your misunderstanding still clouding your mind but even though those words have muted your concerns in some ways, in others there's alarm bells ringing incessantly in your mind.

"What?"

He glances up to you and leans back, gaining some resolve. It doesn't last long, soon he's sighing again and trembling as if he can't sit still, can't sit in the discomfort of honesty for long enough to make you understand. You give him some time, the added pressure of a child in the middle of this is something you hadn't expected, not at all.

"She's three. Joanna is her mother," he admits, "it wasn't....we've never been together as more than...."

You feel as if your head is spinning. You sit back in your seat, dazed, confused. Once, you'd had a small car crash right when you started driving. A car had gone into the back of you and you'd hit your head against the steering wheel hard enough to have a mild concussion. You remember sitting up and feeling exactly the same as you do right in this moment - confused, nothing making sense, in a daze. Except you were still and no accidents had occurred. He was just there, staring at you, trying to gauge a reaction you didn't know how to have.

"I met Joanna when we started working here and I....you know, we....fucked."

You wince, he grimaces, his head falling to look back at his thighs, trembling from his admission and the obvious fear of your reaction.

"No one here knows about it," Alex's voice was pleading, as if he was already begging you to not tell anyone without using the words. As if the insinuation is an insult that he doesn't want to dish out.

"So you've never....been together?"

He shook his head, "we tried. Went on a few dates at the beginning, before we....you know. It wasn't really there for us."

"And then....?"

His eyes flickered back to you, "we stayed friends. She found out she was pregnant and that was it."

"And now....?"

"Now I have a daughter. Her name is a Noelle. I have her half of the week and every other weekend."

"Right...." you swallowed, baffled and trying to imagine a mix of Alex in all his nutty professor glory, and the beautiful woman from earlier. You imagined big brown eyes paired with jet black hair and ivory coloured skin. You imagined pouty lips and that typical childlike shyness but amplified based on her father alone. You couldn't believe it. And you didn't know what to say.

"Why have you....told me?"

He shrugged, pink cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. You could tell this was difficult for him, perhaps he was ashamed. You didn't want to make him feel worse when you were in no position to do so, but how you felt about it, well....you couldn't know how to reassure him either. You weren't even sure what he was hoping to gain from this. Whether it be forgiveness, or whether he was just revealing that there wasn't a space in his life for you at all.

"I....er....I'm a bit shit with women," he admits, "I don't know how much is too much or not enough. I never know when to tell them about Noelle."

"And Joanna?"

"Joanna is married," he says, noticing your horror, he quickly fixes his words, "it's recent. She's recently found out she's pregnant again and her and her husband want to move, get a bigger house - you know. That's why we were arguing. I don't want her to take Noelle further away."

"Right...." your voice is a mere whisper, the disbelief still strong, so incredibly evident. You try to swallow the lump in your throat, to compose yourself to not make this any worse for him when he didn't owe you this much at all. But you don't know what to do, say, how to act. You still feel too young, too new to the dating scene to be dealing with step kids and their mothers - though maybe even thinking of it like that is you getting ahead of yourself.

"I'm not sure what will happen, but I'm not really in a position to....start something," he admits, eyes glowing with dismay at that fact, "and I know I've fucked up because I pretty much have with you. But...."

"No it's fine," you wave him off, gentleness caressing your features, a small smile brewing on the corners of your lips, "I understand. And I appreciate your honesty."

"Sure," he nods, vigorously, as if he has far more to say but doesn't know where to start. His mouth twists at the corner and his eyes grow glassy. He's back in that vacancy again. Back in his head. You don't know what to do or say, so you just lean back and wait patiently for him to come to.

"Anyway...." he stands quickly, as if he's been unpaused by some entity above, a small, civil smile on his lips, "I'm sorry about all of this. And I hope we can still work together fine."

"Yes," you squeak, "no worries."

"Great."

"Yes."

He looks back at you, his mouth opening with his hand on the doorknob. You watch him debate with himself before he must decide against it. With one last uncomfortably forced smile, he leaves the room bathed in the kind of silence that lingers after a secret is revealed. A secret you hadn't been expecting. A revelation that ripped away all the hate you harboured for him and replaced it with indifference. Because what could you do or say to argue his decisions now. Now that you knew he was a father.

[loopdile]

loopdile so real. i have a Vision of both siffrin and loop being Deeply Deeply Closeted Repressed Transfem and having gender envy over odile and i feel like that'd do Something to the Dynamic. Something......... Something........................... well i'm not successfully envisioning it but maybe YOU are?

i am positively plagued by loopdile gender visions!!! maybe not the exact same as you're thinking but i think you will enjoy them. walk with me, anon, through the garden of my loop gender headcanons. it's kind of a big garden but we'll get to the odile part eventually i promise.

Before they were Siffrin, Siffrin had their gender on lock: something transfem, but also tied to unique cultural elements in some way, either the specific identity or the way of thinking about it or just the particular set of presentation options. Perhaps they even started fantasy HRT! But then they forget everything, obviously, including their identity and transition plans. They decide pretty quickly that they're not a man, but none of the alternatives feel exactly correct either; if their previous identity was presented as an option, maybe it would click and they'd settle into it pretty fast, but unfortunately that is literally impossible.

So, no clear goals in mind. And because of his forgotten past, continued memory problems, and constant traveling, Siffrin starts to really value the few things he can count on to stay consistent. He'd rather wear his comfortable hat and cloak than leave them behind in favor of anything more gendered. He'd rather stick with his familiar body than risk changing it. Still, maybe there are some changes he'd be happier in the long run to have made... but the process would be stressful, and he's got enough stressful things to worry about already!

But then we get to Loop. Who has already been changed, suddenly and irrevocably and so very, very accidentally. They are not Siffrin anymore, they do not have the hat and cloak, they aren't even human. They don't even really remember who they were pre-loops. There is no familiarity for them to cling to; instead, they're desperate to find things they can control, things they can change, proof that the world moves forward and they're in charge of their place in it. The motivation that Siffrin lacked, Loop now has in spades!

However, their negative feelings are more intense as well. They struggle to face real stakes, to put effort into anything too complicated, to try anything that might disappoint them. They take risks, yes, but not about things they care about; they take risks because they don't care. And they have a lot of other things going on, too, both practically and psychologically, so gender isn't their immediate priority. "Who and what am I?" is a very difficult question for them right now on multiple levels, a difficult question with only difficult answers.

But, starting with the practical: wearing clothes is an easy way to look and feel a little bit more normal, right? So they experiment, and they decide that dresses are just similar enough to the cloak to be comfortable, but distinct enough to not be as emotionally fraught. And they like them in a frivolous way that Siffrin was never willing to lean all the way into. Siffrin didn't put much thought or energy into his appearance, but Loop's inhuman form is a constant issue, so they might as well dress it in a way they like! Something good to balance out the bad, since they can't be neutral any longer.

And of course they think about body craft, though in a different context from most people. Even the nearly-human parts of their body are lacking detail, without all the right functions behind the form, and then other parts aren't human at all. Their body feels wrong, distracting, constricting. They don't understand how it works, and it draws attention they don't want, and it's not them. And yet, isn't it? Even if they'd been put back into a Siffrin body again, they aren't Siffrin anymore, either. Loop is what the loops made them. They want to change their body, to make it something they can be comfortable in, but they can't. Because body craft is a method of changing flesh and blood and bone, and Loop is not made of such human stuff anymore.

So we've got Loop. Trying to find themself, and maybe succeeding in some ways, but stymied or uncertain in others. Desperate to change, but scared to hope. To make a long story short, they join back up with the party, which brings its own set of problems, and yet... it's also a step towards fixing some of their problems, too. Most relevant to our post, here: Odile is a craft expert with a unique set of experiences. She's got a wide foundation of knowledge, since she's familiar with all three main craft types. She used to be part of Ka Bue's underground body-crafting scene, where she not only crafted her own body but also helped and taught other people; and unlike in Vaugarde, where Houses provide resources and education, Odile and her peers had to do their own research and experiments, develop their own techniques. She even has some knowledge of wish craft from Siffrin, and the way she stopped Siffrin from looping proves that she's unusually good at analyzing and adapting to new forms of craft.

So once Loop's dissatisfaction with and ignorance regarding their own physical form comes to Odile's attention, of course she offers to help. To see if she can figure out what their body is made of, and how it works, and hopefully, in what ways it can be changed.

And this dynamic with her... it's totally different from her relationship with Siffrin, both pre-loops and post. And Loop has always admired her, and here she is, talking about the confidence and determination with which she changed her own body, not without fear or frustration but not letting herself be slowed down by them, either. Taking her fate into her own hands and refusing to be anyone other than herself. And Loop used to feel that Odile understood them best, and losing that connection felt like the end of the world, but here she is, still! Observant and caring as ever. Dedicated to figuring them out again. Unflinching as she sees them for the strange thing they currently are, but equally unshakable in her insistence that they do not have to stay exactly as they are.

So Odile helps them figure out their body. Helps them with the craft itself, too, but even more than that — through both encouragement and example, she helps them be brave enough to genuinely try. To ask themself what they really want. To strike a balance between Siffrin's complacent hesitation and Loop's miserable desperation. To experiment, and face both the chance of failure and the chance of success with head held high. To hope.

Odile is not one for platitudes and empty positivity, after all. If she says something's possible, then it is, or she will make it so, one way or another, despite any setback. Isn't she proof? She remade herself, and she can remake Loop, too. Changing them, slowly and carefully and so very, very deliberately. Loop will never be human again, but they can decide who they are and become themself.

[elvenbeard]

Road Trip 4/4 🌃

V: "And next you'll draw me like one of your French girls!" Kerry: "Wow, impressive... really brushin' up on your early 2000s meme knowledge!" V: "I'd watch the original extended version of Lord of the Rings for you, babe..." Kerry: "Nerd, you'd do that anyway!"

Every trip has to come to an end, but that only means the next one can start :D Nothing better than winding down on clean sheets and with a long shower after a day-trip through the desert!

Honestly, I had so much fun with this little project, I might do something similar again in the future XD See where else they'll end up on this or the next journey :3 Hope you also had fun following along!

[lulubeanie]

Don't forget that you can always draw your ocs and favorite characters in fun outfits that you think they would wear. you can and should do this

[frenchfry99]

Mini post with Sunny <3

Come meet the friendly tailor at the neighborhood's atelier!

Human version jumpscare

[elytrafemme]

diversity win! your favorite system host has been made a SINGLET❗️❓ because she was TOO insufferable for the masses 😱 of angry EPs and dollar store protectors 👀

[viiinz]

rant incoming, see prev post (transphobia tw)

[nezuscribe]

it's that same summer when you're at the gojo summer estate, the one near the sea. you're still teens, long before gojo became arranged!gojo.

your last encounter with gojo was something you brushed off. but gojo couldn't stop thinking about you. you were this puzzle he didn't know how to figure out. this war map that no matter how long he looked at it, none of his past strategies were making sense.

but the two of you go about your usual routine. he's with his friends, and you stick to yourself.

or at least you tried to.

gojo's mother, the lady of the gojo family, was an earnest and strict woman. everybody knew that she wasn't one for games or jokes. she rarely smiled and rarely, rarely, laughed. you, along with all the other kids, knew to bow extra low whenever greeting her. she seemed to carry more power than her husband, but she didn't seem to find an issue with that.

but for a woman who was so keen on tradition, she seemed to care about you a lot more than the other children.

when she spoke to you, her eyes softened. her voice was gentler, more caring. your sisters especially grew annoyed at this, trying to butter up to her even more, but she seemed to harbor this sort of kindness only towards you.

you didn't question this either. it must be some form of pity, but you appreciated it nonetheless. sometimes you pretended like she was your actual mom, but then you quickly shook that thought away, chiding yourself for thinking something so childish.

this sort of gentleness she had with you turned into her trying to include you in things. some days it would be having tea with you when the other adults were having tea somewhere else, or sometimes she'd plan a little dinner with you where you could get dressed up and act like a lady.

tonight, however, she seemed to think that the best way she could include you was to include you in the group of the other kids, a gentle and guiding hand on your protesting back.

"really, i like the library," you insist, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. you had been inside the library for so many hours that you could blink and those high walls filled with books would be seared into your vision.

"nonsense," she tells you, her blue eyes and white hair looking down at your form as she waves it off, "the kids are outside near the fire. they'd be delighted to have you."

you cringe a little bit, wondering if she was just as daft as her son.

but she had found you near the fireplace, trying to stick its warmth as you hunched over yet another book. she decided that enough was enough, you should be out with the other kids.

so you couldn't say much to the woman who was hosting your family to argue, letting her lead you outside the grand patio and into the overbearing fields that led out to the sea, you soon saw the fire crackling away, the sound of laughter filling your ears.

some of the kids who were facing the two of you nudged the other ones to turn around, looks of confusion on their faces as the noblest lady of the land led a quivering you closer to them.

the usual look of caring she had whenever she was with you melted away, turning to something icy as the two of you neared the group. her hand on your back was still present, but you wished that it could somehow push you deep into the ground where you could hide forever.

her eyes looked over the group until they fell on her son, gojo, and narrowed.

everybody's eyes bounced from you over to her.

"there should be room for one more, yes?" she asks, and all the kids quickly nod, moving over on the logs that they had created into makeshift seats as they scrambled to make space for you.

you wondered what it was like to command such respect from people, what it must be like to have people actually listen to you.

she nudges you forward a little bit and you glance up at her one more time, a sort of useless plea as she encourages you to sit down.

you take a deep breath, offering them all an apologetic smile as you slowly sit on a log, your legs cramming together to make yourself seem as small as possible.

you watched as she walked back through the patio, talking to a maid as she motioned over to your group, saying something you couldn't make out, and you looked back to the other kids, the ones you had barely spoken a couple words to, and wince.

"sorry," you say slowly, your hands fidgeting non-stop in your lap as you laugh awkwardly, wishing you could just drop dead.

you can see your sisters seething in the corner, rolling their eyes as they sneer. the other kids nod at you just as tensely, and you wonder how disrespectful it would be if you just went back inside.

you feel a pair of eyes searing in the side of your face, and you look slightly to your right to see gojo staring at you, his eyes slightly squinting, just as his mother did.

you swallow thickly, picking at your nails as you send him a small smile before looking back down at your lap.

you could still feel him looking at you, but you chose to ignore it.

gojo doesn't really know why his mother liked you so much, but he never truly questioned her. she treated you with a tenderness he never saw her treat anybody (aside from him) with. he sometimes saw the two of you sharing tea with each other, other times hearing her laugh whenever you cracked a joke. something unusual for both of you.

his eyes look at your face, taking in the way you duck your head to seem smaller than you are. your eyes avert any contact, teeth gnawing on your already chewed-up lips. gojo looks at your hands, at the way you pick at your nails. he looks at your dress and sees the way the seams are fraying, the initial shape of the dress looking a little bit unfitting on you. almost as if it wasn't made for you specifically. his eyes narrow in more as he pieces it together. the dress is a hand-me-down from your older sister. not because your family couldn't afford a new dress, of course not, but to remind you of your place.

he feels a sting in his chest.

slowly the conversation with the group goes back to usual, the other kids pretending that you weren't there. gojo could feel the arms of one of the girls latched around his, her body pressing into his side as she tried to get closer to him. he wanted to shove her away, but didn't want to make a scene right now.

one of the girl shifted the talk to the topic of couples, talking about how she saw this husband and wife in town the other day who seemed to actually like each other.

one of your sisters, mei, snorts, shaking her head at the idea.

"us girls either marry an old man or a slightly older one," her eyes look over to you, "there's no in-between."

everybody grimaces at that, her other sister, yume, shoving her shoulder roughly at the crude statement.

"what?" mei scoffs, sitting back up as she nudges her chin to you, "she is."

yume gives her a warning look, one that's clearly saying she's saying too much, but mei doesn't seem to care much. everybody stirs, their heads craning with the thrill of gossip.

gojo looks at you and wants to see what you think about all this, but you're so far in your own world that you don't notice the commotion that seems to be directed at you.

mei calls your name, trying to grab your attention, and your head shoots up, brows furrowed to see who needs you.

"right?" she asks, knowing you don't know the answer.

you look around again, wondering if she was just trying to be funny.

"what?" you ask finally.

"you have to marry someone older, yeah?" mei presses, her eyes gleaming as your confusion melts away into one of embarrassment, looking at yume to see if mei was really serious.

of your two sisters, mei was always the mischievous one, if you could even call her cruelty that.

gojo sits up slightly, his brows scrunching up together a little bit at the mention of this. nobody had heard of any marriage offers, especially this early. you were still underage. who...?

you scratch at your neck, heat rising to your cheeks at the sudden attention on you.

"it was just an offer," you say through clenched teeth, shooting mei a look as she just smiles smugly. she knew she'd never have to deal with this.

"who?" one of the guys asks.

"nobody," you say quickly, waving it off as you rub a hand over your face, wondering if you threw yourself on the fire if that would help.

"naoya!" mei says instantly, your eyes widening as she reveals this very secret thing that even your father was trying to keep hushed away. you feel your stomach drop, eyes stinging in embarrassment as gasps echo around the group.

"isn't he...?" one of the girls tries to do the math, seeing how much older he already is.

"i heard he wants children," another girl adds, giving you a look of attempted sympathy but it just looks like a wince, "like, a lot of children."

you shut your eyes, rubbing at your aching forehead. you look briefly at gojo, only to see him looking incredulously at you. he's the only one who doesn't seem to be talking in a shocked or excited tone.

everybody gets excited about a terrible marriage offer when it's not them who have to offer themselves up.

he's studying you, seeming to be the only one who sees the way your chest is heaving, as if you're struggling to breathe. or the glossy look in your eyes, the way you dart them away so nobody can see. gojo looks over at mei, at the way she looks satisfied for delivering her piece of gossip for the night,

at your expense.

he doesn't know why he feels the way he does, or why he drags the girls arm away from him as he stands up, shrugging his coat over his frame as everybody suddenly looks at him.

but he's only looking at you.

"i forgot to give you your blanket from last week." he says simply, his voice heavy and coarse, as if he hadn't used it in a while, "come with me,"

well, he never said he was good at lying.

but he puts a steady arm on your shoulder, helping you stand up as you shoot him a confused look, letting him lead you away as the silence behind you becomes defeating.

you wipe at your nose, sniffling silently as he leads you through the grassy field.

he glances down at you. this is the second time the two of you have been alone, and the first time he's ever seen you on the verge of tears.

"thank you," you murmur thickly, rubbing at your eyes with your palms as you laugh wetly, "she wasn't supposed to say..." you trail off, looking away from him in embarrassment.

gojo guides you up the porch, behind a long marble pillar where the two of you are away from the other's curious stares.

he's never been good at comforting people, but he's never wanted to more than now.

"she's right, though," you say through a stutter, arms crossing at your chest as if that's what gojo was thinking about, "naoya, he-" you can't finish the sentence, the reality of it too heavy for you.

naoya proposed a month ago. a marriage offer for when you turn of age. he was desperate to find a wife, but not too many women were desperate to make him their husband. but your father needed the alliance, and your father's wife needed you away, so they swiftly agreed to it.

gojo's hand still hasn't left your shoulder, and he gives it a small squeeze.

"i'm sorry about this," you motion to yourself, laughing humorleslsy, "i didn't mean to...gods, i just...i don't want to be his w-wife," you admit quietly, shaking your head as you hide your face in your hands, "i-i don't want to have his children."

gojo feels bile rise to his throat at the thought of that.

he's only seen you twice. why does he care so much about what happens to you?

"somebody else will come along," he says in a whisper, and you look at him through your fingers, dropping them to your side as you blink slowly, rubbing at your cheeks.

"no good man wants to marry me," you tell him quietly, without any trace of pity for yourself, something that was simply the truth, "if not naoya, then another variant of him."

gojo leans down slightly to level with you, his lips pressed into a thin line.

you don't know why he's so close, or why he looks more worried for you than anybody else has. you shrug him off of you, trying to collect yourself as you peer through one of the large windows that look inside the estate.

"you can get rid of that blanket," you mutter, eyes darting from the window to his stunning blue ones, ones that make your knees slightly weak, "i was going to knit a new one anyways."

you bid your farewells, nodding lowly at him as you find your way inside.

gojo watches your back, looking back at the group as he runs a hand through his hair, gripping at his white locks in frustration.

he doesn't know what he's feeling. he doesn't know why he wants naoya suddenly dead. he doesn't know why he's not going to listen to what you just asked him to do, or why he wants to hold onto that blanket.

gojo doesn't know why you suddenly infiltrate his every waking moment, or why he needs to see naoya buried alive just so that you wouldn't have to marry him.

he doesn't know the answer to any of these things. but he doesn't know if he wants to.

[sastielsfandom]

Five years ago I didn't think I'd just be shitposting majority of the time, occasionally dropping original works, but mostly just having fun writing fics for fun while also having a crushing weight of sorrow from my family falling apart and being spread out. Having to ask for help, pushing down the guilt and shame I feel everytime that only washes away for a second as it goes to my family and doubles when I have to rinse and repeat. Five years ago I barely had the confidence to post silly stuff and no one knew anything about me really and now whenever I post I see the same three tags that I can't touch anymore because it weighs to heavy for me. And so many people are aware of my name something I swore I'd never share, I went by a different name so it wouldn't happen and it's useless now. Five years ago my family was strong and thriving, now we're barely surviving and I don't know what it looks like anymore. In some ways I'm proud of what I've become and in so many other ways, it doesn't feel like me, and I'm tired of constantly living in survival mode. Life's a beautiful disappointment.

[lyralit]

things to think about for characters

do they have allergies?

what foods will they not touch?

what kinds of music do they like?

how are they around new people?

do they speak in an accent?

have they tried learning a new language?

how many languages do they know?

what is a song that will always make them cry?

how do they cry? heaving? silently? sobbing?

how do they dress? for practicality or fashion?

what is the first thing they notice about a stranger?

what is their humour like?

do they have scars? what caused them?

do they wear jewelry?

are they a frivolous spender or a miser?

do they prefer luxury or practicality?

who would they quote?

what could make them change their mind?

who is the first person they'd call?

how are they around animals? do they have pets?

what is their favourite childhood food?

what is something they've never told anyone?

childhood friends?

what are habits they've picked up from other people?

what are their guilty pleasures?

what is something they're staunchly against?

do they speak a certain way? do they use contractions? popular turns of phrase?

can they fall in love? what does it look like? does it differ between people -- friends vs family?

what would they rather die than do?

what is their biggest mistake? one that they look out to never do again.

[bunnys-kisses]

kink-o-ween - day two

max verstappen & charles leclerc - threesome

cw: smut/pwp, threesome, enthusiastic consent, breast play, fingering, doggy style, oral sex (charles receiving),

you didn't expect for this to happen. when you fell in love with charles leclerc, you didn't expect to end up in max verstappen's orbit. you knew that you'd be in the spotlight regardless. the prince of monaco, it would be impossible not to have your face in the tabloids.

while you were on charles' arm at events, smiling up at him with love in your chest, you could feel the heated gaze of max's blue eyes on you. your world became of green and blue, lingering gazes of your boyfriend and the rival he held dear. it was only a matter of time before it all came to a head. when you ended up in the sheets with the prince of monaco and the lion of the netherlands.

this was a position many would die for. in between two and three of the dutch grand prix, they both had their eyes on something different. while the trophies were nice, but they'd end up in storage and long forgotten. but you were fresh like summer fruit, perfect to put between their teeth.

"i see how you eye her, mate." charles said as he leaned against the back wall, a cigarette between his fingers, "i think you should be more subtle. or people will talk."

max took the cigarette from him and took a drag, "then stop dressing her in outfits that make the whole garage stop and stare.

"she dressed herself. she's been hoping to catch your eye. we've been thinking. a week away. you, me and her. something to keep us busy."

max took another drag and chuckled, hidden from the eyes of the press. he went over to charles and grabbed him by the chin, their gazes remained leveled with one another. he chuckled, "are you whoring out your girlfriend to me, mate?"

"it's not whoring out if we all want it."

it came about weeks later, a break in the season. not a long one like the full summer break. but enough that the two men could spend hours being in bed with you. it was in a hotel outside of austin. where you really felt the heat of the texan sun. it was a small place, a little shady, but you paid in cash and the bed with big. not too many questions were asked, they didn't even ask for your passport. they simply took the cash and handed you a key. and once the door to the room was closed, you felt hands coming from behind to unbutton your shirt.

you looked over your shoulder and saw max's gaze on you and when you looked back, you felt your boyfriend's front against you. charles was getting your jeans off. there really was no time like the present.

"insatiable." you sighed as you aided max getting your shirt off.

"we've waited long enough." charles said as he pulled your shorts down to your ankles. you moaned a little as he rubbed your cunt over your cotton panties. but the noises didn't last long as max captured your lips in his.

you aided them to get you naked and eventually ended up on the squeaky mattress. both men looked down at you and you swallowed a little. you tried to turn your body in a way to hide even an inch of skin. but charles stop you as he climbed into bed with you. he kicked his socks off as he pinned your wrists to the bed.

"no hiding for us, beautiful. you made a promise to be good for us." his voice was heat in your brain as you started to pull at his t-shirt, but max was close by helping him get it off. eventually the two men were stripped naked. expensive shirts were tossed to the ground. charles calvin klein's were over the edge of the bed. the covers were rough and unlike the soft bedding back in monaco. but this would have to do given the circumstances.

the three of you naked with each man on either side of you. their hands roamed your figure. max even went as far as to pinch the softness in your stomach before he pulled you in for a kiss. he tilted your head back to get access to your lips while charles' mouth was on your breasts. his tongue dragged across your nipples.

"she has the prettiest lips." max said as he held you throat gently.

"you should feel her breasts. she's perfectly soft, it's like heavy. she's flexible and is able to take cock like a champion." he chuckled. as he continued to silently worshiping your breasts. leaving wet kisses and small bites across the skin as max kissed you deeply. it all felt so good for you.

when they were done caressing you with kisses, you ended up on your hands and knees in front of charles' cock. your boyfriend was propped against the headboard.

charles grabbed a condom from a new box he kept in the nightstand and tossed it to max, "you're a good friend, max. but, i'm not letting you get that close to her."

max nodded before he put it on. he was on his heels and his cock in one hand while he got the condom over his length. your bare, wet cunt was enticing to him. he said, "it feels like i've lucked out quite a bit."

the other man replied, "yes you are. i don't get too angry about not getting podium sometimes because i know she'll let me do anything to make myself feel better."

max looked down at your bareback, "anything' huh?" that was curious to him.

charles' combed his fingers through your hair, you could feel his rings against your scalp as he looked at you with those dazzling green eyes. he said softly, "you're going to be good for our guest tonight? be good for our world champion." he chuckled before he pressed your mouth up against his cock.

you happily accepted it into your mouth and moaned loudly when max pushed his cock deep inside of you. max's eyes went wide for a moment of how sweet your pussy felt.

oh my god.

charles noticed and chuckled, "yeah. she feels good doesn't she." he looked down at you, "she's a real piece of work. i'm thankful that she is mine."

"except for tonight."

charles replied, "don't get too attached, max. you can have any woman you want." and looked down at you. he stroked your cheek, call it a little possessive but who would want to constantly share their slice of paradise. you continued to suck him off.

max started to work his hips against yours. he watched how you moved under him. the sight of his rival and you in front of him was painfully hot.

your sweet noises came from your lips and were muffled by charles' cock inside of you. the three of you moved together. you were getting it from all angles. letting these men have their way with you. it was all consensual, but it did feel dirty.

"do you like that?" charles asked as he gripped your hair.

you nodded rapidly and could feel your lover's cock in your throat. he was quite big, even after all the time together to take him in your mouth was a little bit of a struggle.

charles took your mouth off of him and jerked his cock rapdily, "use your words, my love. tell max and i how you feel."

you whined, "please, charles. max! it feels so good. like nothing else." you arched your back a little and moaned before your lover grabbed your by the back of your head and onto his cock once more.

the three of you moved in a steady pattern, the bed squeaked under you and the covers were rough against your knees and chest. this little motel in texas where no one asked questions was your little getaway for the night.

to run the course of your sexual fever as both men stayed inside of you. it felt so good. it made you drool in more ways than one as you felt max's cock nudge inside of your slick pussy and charles' cock up into your throat.

you held onto his strong thighs and moaned against his cock. max's cock in your pussy was making you feel a deep lust in your gut. he was similar size to charles, but his methods of fucking were much different. charles fucked like an inferno while max fucked with more methodical movements. regardless your head was spinning from it all.

to be between these two men, some of the toughest rivals in a long time. it made you hot all over, you loved charles but to spend a night with max as well added something that made you feel painfully turned on.

"she's beautiful. where did you find her?" max asked as his pace became a little more erratic. he was trying to chase the high of pleasure.

charles chuckled a little. his hand in your hair, "that's a secret, max." he rocked further up into your throat and could feel the heat seep into his blood.

max would give a lot for a woman like you, even outside of the bedroom he was captivated by you. how you giggled and smiled at the paddock, your knowledge of cars.

you whined a little bit and arched your back as you felt it all zip through your body. you felt alive between the two men and it made both of them very pleased. you were enjoying this despite working so hard to make them finish. you were a perfect woman.

max gave it a few more heavy thrusts before you came quickly around his cock which only made him push further into you. it was ticking all the boxes in his sexual depraved head. his chest against your back with your hips tilted to get the perfect angle for his heavy thrusts.

"please tell me where you got her, charles." max sputtered as he felt the draw of orgasm pull through him as he looked up at his longtime friend, "raya? snapchat? through a friend? does she have a sister?"

charles chuckled and patted his friend on the cheek, "that's a secret, max." he licked his lips, those green eyes gleamed with mischief. he wouldn't give away the secrets of how you met charles. it was too much of a funny story for the bedroom, plus charles may like it whe max is a little desperate.

max held onto you as tight as he could, almost bruising the skin. he finished inside of you and made the pleasure curl through both of your bodies. it was all so much for him but it felt good even while using a condom. it briefly made him wonder if he could ever try it bare with you. to get a better feeling of you sweet pussy.

"now help me out." charles said as you continued to suck him off. he almost felt the wind out of his gut as he felt max also lick his cock in the parts you couldn't reach without deep throating his cock too much. his choked out a groan before he came down your throat and you swallowed it eagerly.

charles looked down at the both of you and it excited him. to see his loving girlfriend and also his rival by his bare cock. he tried to shift off the bed to get settled for the night. but you held his hips to the bed.

you looked over at max and chuckled. you were still in a post-climax haze, "i think we should thank charles for tonight." then giggled at max.

max licked his lips and said, "of course. you take his cock, i'll take his mouth." which made heat rise to charles' cheeks as he was moved from the headboard.

everyone was going to get theirs tonight. charles only worry was, that he might have created a sexual monster out of you and max. and that tonight wouldn't be the last time this happened <3

[rin-may-1103]

Just a Bite.

Master Post | Next

Danny stared out at the busy street from behind his dumpster.

or well, not his dumpster, but it might as well be his considering how many nights he's spent sitting behind it like some rabid raccoon.

Two months ago, he would have been sleeping in his own bed. His glow-in-the-dark stars vaguely lighting up his room in soft luminescent colors. The sound of Jazz snoring in her sleep just a room over, his parents still milling around in the basement.

he would have just finished fighting the box ghost and collapsed onto his bed, the sound of his home lulling him to sleep.

Oh, how things can change in a blink of an eye.

No, instead of sleeping on his bed with his cartoon ghost sheets and NASA poster covered room, he's out here in some random dirty city, sleeping behind dumpsters.

dirty, grimy, rusty dumpsters.

"did you hear?" some lady dressed in a light blue summer dress asked, turning to look at her friend as they started to walk past. "Mr. Wayne donated another lump sum to that charity." she huffed, shaking her head like she had just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

her friend stopped in the middle of the alley opening, her graying hair splaying in an ark as she twisted to face the other women. "my word! again? what the hell is that man thinking?"

the woman huffed, then smirked in amusement. "it's like he's shouting for the world to hear how desperate he is for attention. he thinks if he donates enough money to those scoudrails they'll love him or something. With how he's acting lately, it's like he wants all the street rats to barge into his home asking for money, food, and clothes."

her friend clicked her tongue in disgust, "I'd believe it. he has so many kids now, it's like he's running an orphanage. someone, anyone really, with black hair and some tragic story could walk right in and not even be noticed. they'd blend right in with the others."

"I heard it's genetic, his father was the same way before he met Martha. Bruce's blood son, Damian I believe, acts just like his father. the boy's been spotted taking stray cats and dogs inside. It wouldn't surprise me if the paper posted about him convincing his father for another sibling at some point."

the women then turned and started to walk away, their conversation slowly bleeding into the surrounding city ruckus.

Danny leaned back, resting his head against the crumbling brick behind him.

walk right in and not be noticed? wouldn't that be grand. He had heard of Mr. wayne and his gaggle of black-haired children. What were their names again? he could have sworn Sam told him before, in one of her rants about rich society.

Richard Grayson was the first, Danny remembered because Tucker had been making none stop dick jokes for a few hours. Danny didn't understand why the man would willingly go by Dick, but then again, who was he to question someone's name when he fights ghosts like Skulker and Technis on a daily basis?

Next was... Jason? Sam had mentioned there was a whole conspiracy theory of how his death was a cover-up. how all the unsolved crime community swore it was Bruce who killed the kid, that or the kid had some terminal illness that Bruce didn't want the media to know about.

thennnnnn-

Danny glanced around, trying to dig through his memories of Sam's rant. Dick: the orphaned circus act taken in the night his parents died. he's romanie? maybe, Danny wasn't too sure on that one. Jason: taken off the streets, one of his parents was out of the picture and the other one died of a drug overdose.

and then there was..... Tim! Right, Tim, the one who was Mr. Wayne's neighbor before his mother died and his dad went into a coma, then died later on. right, right. he was the known tech genius, the one who took over the company while Mr. Wayne stepped back for a while.

there were others? like, four others? Damian, the lady said he was the blood son sooo, that would imply he was the only bio kid.

who else was there? hmmmm.

well, either way, Danny's tired brain agreed with the women. someone, anyone, who looked vaguely like the other kids could walk right into the house and no one would notice.

it was a bad idea. a terrible one really. but. Danny was hungry.

he's been sleeping behind dumpsters for a few weeks now, he hadn't had anything good to eat in forever, and he was tired. (not as exhausted as he was back home, but still tired. who would have guessed he'd sleep more while homeless?)

he wasn't going to steal from people, his core wouldn't allow him to. and well, he's pretty sure Dan would have stolen already, so there was no way Danny was going to. not unless his life was at risk, and well? it wasn't right now, so no stealing.

but this? walking right into a house and blatantly taking food? right in front of them?

it wouldn't be stealing if he just flat-out didn't try to hide it. they'd be able to stop him and send him away. heck, he doubted he'd even make it past the front gate before they turned him away.

...

was he really going to do this?

...

yes, yes he was.

standing up, Danny started making his way out of the alleyway and over to the tall building with Wayne's name on it. It was a good place to start, maybe he could even find one of the kids and walk with them. or, even better, he could find Mr. Wayne and walk with him. he liked that better than following some kid around.

suddenly, a car honked right next to him, the window rolling down to reveal a tired and disheveled man behind the wheel. glancing up, Danny made eye contact with the taxi driver.

the man yawned and gestured for him to get in, already speaking before Danny could decline. "Mr. Wayne! Your father," yawn, "Father already paid for me to take you home. just hop in."

Danny blinked then glanced around, looking to see if the Wayne the man was talking about was around. nope. turning back, Danny spotted a green sticky note on the back seat.

well, alright then. guess he was getting into the taxi and doing this after all. Clockwork obviously approved if he messed with the timing of things.

Next

[peachesofteal]

sighs Price/Simon/mama (female reader) 18+ mdni - threesome M/M/F, spit, daddy, praise, size, lactation, breeding kink. The softest dub con. This is an AU to the original story, Through Me. Price has a wife in Through Me and Simon has mama, neither of them would ever share.

It starts with a dinner.

Red wine decanted. Red meat rare, bleeding all over a plate. Price sits across from Simon at the table, with you at the head. Fixed between them like a flower sprouted in rock.

They're here because Simon has seen the way he watches. He's noticed how his captain considers both himself and you, the way he cocks his head to left and trails his eyes up and down your body.

It's reminiscent of days old. Nights passed when he and John bent pretty things to their will, split open and overwhelmed, gasping and clawing as they systematically broke them apart.

A wild ride. A way to blow off some steam. A thing never meant to be more than what it was. Secret nights in the dark.

There was a wild gleam in John's eyes, weeks ago. Simon only caught the fractured glimpse of it, there one second, gone in the next, but when they locked eyes afterwards, he knew.

They both did.

He wouldn't be doing this unless he trusted his captain implicitly. Trusted him to care for you, to give you what's needed, to see it all the way through. There's something digging around in Simon's brain about it, some imagery he can't escape.

The best way out is through.

They end up in the living room, after dinner. There's still half a bottle of wine left, and when he pulls you in for a kiss it's there on his tongue, purpled fruit and acid, alcohol loosening the tension in your neck, your spine.

Simon sits on the couch next to John. Not yet touching, but if both were shift their legs, they'd be there, knee to knee. "C'mere mama." Simon spreads wide, patting the inside of his thigh, indicating where you're to sit, and when you settle on his lap, half turned to face his captain, he rests a hand on his thigh. "Did you enjoy dinner, sweet girl?"

"It was very good." You peek at John through your lashes, demure, shy. "Thank you for cooking."

"Was my pleasure." He smiles, blue eyes crinkling at the corners, and you return it as Simon rubs circles on your waist. He can feel the fabric of your thong beneath the dress you chose tonight, thin, narrow fabric stretched over your cunt, nearly non-existent barrier separating you from the craven.

It's important you're not so worked up, too early. He needs to keep you torpid, wine drenched and saccharine, before working you up to a frenetic pace, so he moves his hand to your back, stroking up and down slowly, using an aimless conversation about work as a distraction. "Think Laswell's gonna be out for this next one?"

"Don't know. Suppose so. We'll need her. Can't get over half the hurdles without her support." His legs spread, marginally. enough that his knee is touching your feet, your toes, and you glance down. Simon observes your thought process in real time; intrigue, confusion clearing before it ever really takes root. You brush it off.

But he sees the opportunity, target hot to strike.

He moves his hand under the hem of your dress, up your thigh. You tense, blinking at him in confusion, and he brushes his lips against your ear. "Relax, honey." He finds heat between your legs, circling over your panties, and you squeak, locking onto his wrist.

"Si-"

"John was so nice to have us over for dinner, wasn't he?" You nod, shakily, as Simon peppers your cheek, your jaw with kisses. "Fed us so well. Don't y'think we should say thank you?" His cock is solid beneath your ass, and he flexes his hips, driving the point home, still stroking over your panties. John is locked in, watching the flutter of your dress, staring beneath your knees.

"Um, I," he presses directly on your clit, stealing your words, whatever you meant to say dying on a whine. Your lips part beneath him, already slick, already wanting.

"Put your heels on John's thighs, mama." You stare at him, eyes wide, and he gives you an encouraging nod. "Don't worry. We'll take care of you." The angle provided when you lift your feet tilts you, and John turns.

"Gonna touch you, love," he carefully palms your knees, "right here," turning so that you're now facing him head on, toes flexing on both of his thighs. Simon peels your dress back, shucking it up around your belly, and then parts your legs. His captain huffs a short groan.

"Jus' want John to be able see, is all." He hooks a finger into the cotton, and pulls to the side, exposing your weeping pussy to both of them, glistening in the evening light. "Look at you, sweet girl. All wet and ready for us?" You whimper, staring at John between your knees, no doubt shocked. Scandalized. "Isn't she pretty?" He nods.

"Very." He reaches, and you flinch when his fingers trace down your slit, but Simon holds your hips still. "Need some attention, eh? Little thing, already swollen." He flits back up to your bud, pressing next to where Simon has a thumb on you, and they work in circles, both swirling, your hips jerking with each cycle.

John pulls away, it's a slow game, this one. One they've played before, and he stays focused between your legs, letting Simon lead you, submerge you in the experience, plunge you into it. He applies more pressure, enjoying your gasps, the way you grip his shoulder.

He's almost there, almost got you, and then-

"Daddy-" John smiles. So does Simon. He pushes a finger in your hole, searching for that spot, the soft one that makes you scream, heel of his palm firm against your clit. "Ah, fuck, p-please-"

"You're so wet, mama. Soakin' my hand. Do you need to cum? Want to show the captain the way your pussy flutters?" You moan, head tipped back, pulse throbbing in your neck. You tighten around his finger, and he draws back to slide in two, carefully stretching, sawing you wide. Your knees try to close, probably on instinct, but John pushes them open again. When you hold them there, he murmurs low.

"Good girl. Keep em open for me. Want to watch your hole, see how it's going to take my cock." A shudder rocks you, muscles in your lower belly tensing, and your spine curls forward, fingers knotted in the collar of Simon's shirt.

"There it is, good, mama, that's so good. c'mon-" You squeeze, and squeeze him, and then explode, crying out, legs shaking, chasing the pressure, carnal lust glittering in your eyes.

Simon doesn't give you a reprieve. Your sopping cunt cries on his hand as he pulls free, and they both move, John's cock coming free from his pants, thick, tip red and leaking, and he slaps it against your clit. You're still dazed from the orgasm, gripping onto Simon, and he pulls you against his chest, hands behind your knees, folding you open. Your pussy flowers for Johnny, blooming for them both. Simon's so hard he aches, and he manages to shuck his pants down, cock hard against your back.

It occurs to him, John might want to have a taste of you. Drink from you, enjoy how sweet you are. "Let's get this off." He curls you forward, and tugs at your dress, deliciously pleased when you help the effort, arms twisting behind your back to try to free your heavy tits. He shifts you so you're more on his thigh, cock straining against your hip. He groans when he brushes your nipples, dots of liquid beading, slick honey spilling over the curve of your breasts. He squeezes them, making eye contact with John, who licks his lips.

John dips his head, you jerk back into Simon. "Easy," he coos, hand firm on your belly, "John's gonna have a taste. Don't want this all to go to waste, d'you? Don't wanna be selfish sweet girl." His captain's mustache brushes against the sensitive skin, mouth closing around your nipple and sucking, a sensation you seem to enjoy, because you tip your head back on Simon's shoulder and groan.

"Oh, oh. God." John's jaw connects with Simon's fingers, where he's still helping squeeze you into his mouth, and he reaches between your legs, feeling for the weight of his captain's cock, giving him a firm squeeze before lining him up with your entrance. He pulls off your breast with a satisfying pop, mustache wet, chin glistening.

He pushes, slowly, and your muscles go solid, legs instinctively shifting. John grips the back of your thigh, burrowing into the fat there, still forcing his way inside you. They're both so much bigger than you, wider than your pussy allows, longer than you should be able to stretch. "Relax, love." He coaches, pulling out to only batter his way back in, and Simon's hand roams between your legs, feeling the curve of your hole struggling to take his captain, stroking up his length to feel how much is left. You're panting, squirming, and John laughs, echo of a chuckle pulling a smile from Simon.

"J-John." You gasp, cunt stretched tight, and when his pelvis meets your ass, the tears spill over your cheeks. "It's t-too much, you're-"

"Fuckin' hell." He snarls, snapping in and out, bending at the waist to close his mouth over your nipple, big hands cradling your thighs. It's nasty, foul, the slick slap of his balls swinging into you, the wet sound filling the air over your wild moans. Simon plays with your clit, sloshing over and over it, holding you steady as you writhe. Your second orgasm approaches like a freight train, so fast, so violent, and Simon urges you on.

"Cum on my captain's cock, honey. Yeah, that's it- let him feel it." Your toes curl and you explode, squeezing so tight John has to seal his hips to you to keep himself inside.

"Christ." He curses, and Simon smoothes a hand over your forehead.

"Such a good girl, huh? Never felt anything better." He coos, kissing your temple, John grunting out an agreement of sorts, grinding in a circle before pulling long and spearing you open again, bucking into your cunt like a wild animal. Your tits bounce with him, eyes closed and pretty mouth parted, Simon licking inside, dribbling spit onto your tongue that you swallow, again and again, until John's pace becomes frantic, and he bites out a demand.

"Ask your daddy if I can give you my cum, love." You're delirious, overwhelmed and greedy now, pliant with two orgasms and promises of more.

"Daddy, daddy, p-please, can he... can he?" You manage the bumpy plea between bounces.

"Y'want him to pump you full of cum, mama? Want him to give it to you?"

"Y-yeah, yeah. Give it to me." John's jaw is gnashed so tight, Simon can see the muscle flexing, and he slams into you, shoving you further into his arms.

"Here it comes, fuck-." He snarls, and then he shoves forward once more, head tipped back, gladiator in his glory, battle won.

He pulls away, cock slipping free, covered in you, curly hair at the root soaked, chest heaving as he catches his breath. Simon tucks his fingers inside, feeling the mess of his captain's load, scooping some out and bringing it to your lips. "Suck, honey. Lick 'em clean f'me." You do, wrapping your tongue around them, swallowing hungrily with half lidded eyes.

"Sit rep?" John grunts.

"Y'okay mama?" He palms your belly.

"Mhmm." You're suspended in a dream, voracious appetite soothed.

"Need you to take more, sweet girl. Can you do that?" He will honor it, if you say no. Clean you up and get you home, tucked into bed-

but you nod, blinking, and John smacks your ass. "Up, then." He pulls you onto all fours, massive hands pulling your cheeks up and apart, exposing your tight little furl to both of them. Simon glances over, and John sucks into the pocket of his cheek. He follows suit, and-

they spit onto your asshole, shiny, iridescent globs coating it, soaking it, slipping down to where you're leaking strings of John's cum. He thumbs your ring, pushing, testing, slowly sinking inside as you twitch and try to push him out. "Gonna take this one day." It's a promise for another time, and you turn over your shoulder, eyes wide. "Gonna stretch your little asshole out with my cock, mama."

"Simon-" Your voice borders on cautionary.

"Not tonight." John stands, sinking to his knees on the opposite of the couch, half hard cock starting to fill as it looms in front of your face, and Simon lines himself up from behind, impaling you on his cock in one swift thrust, jerking your hips back to meet his.

You scream. Mouth open wide, and at the same time, John shoves forward, cock finding purchase in your mouth, hands cradling your jaw. "Easy, pretty girl." He strokes your cheek, natural rhythm of Simon fucking you deep forcing you on and off John's length, soft turning quickly to hard, stretching back towards your throat.

"Fuck, mama. Feel so fuckin' good. So wet, full of cum already." You're still so tight, so warm, soaking him to the bone. Your pussy squelches around him, and you jerk back to meet him, hips rolling as much as you can stand it, sharp moans vibrating from the back of your tongue. "Not gonna last." He warns.

"Me either," John's biceps are strained, corded muscle looping all the way to his wrists. "Mouth's so good on 'er. Gonna fill you up from both ends tonight, love." You're crying now, Simon can hear the change in your tone, the way your voice breaks, and it only makes him fuck you harder, desperate, primal urges roaring to life in the back of his mind.

"Gonna put it deep, mama. Give y'another baby." You clench. "You like that? Want daddy to fuck another baby into you?" You make some sort of sound, unintelligible, but it doesn't matter. "We won't know who's it is. Could end up with John's baby, yeah? Get nice and fat with him inside you. Belong to both of us." he groans it, thrusting and thrusting until he's slamming into you and so is John, both men sweating, grunting, gripping onto you like their lives depend on it.

It doesn't take much more than that before Simon is curling over your back, chest pressed against you, arm snaked between your legs. He pulls you into another orgasm with him, your thighs clamped around his arm, and John holds you up by the shoulders, spilling down your throat as Simon floods your womb.

The silence that follows is old hat, but new with you. John disappears to grab water, warm, wet wash cloths, and Simon rocks you on the couch, holding you tight, kissing every spare inch of your skin. "Did so good for me, mama." You sigh, cozying closer, and when John kneads your thigh, you spread them, allowing him to wipe between your legs, clean you as best he can, before settling on the other side.

They stay like that, for a while. In the quiet, the sound of your breathing, before Simon manages to get your dress over your head and to the door.

There's no goodbye.

There never is.

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Hi! If youre still doing requests, i have kind of an odd ask , but maybe some of the upper moons' reactions to meeting Muzan's wife (reader). I also really like whipped!Muzan so maybe the other demons' reactions to seeing the demon king doting on his wife. Thank you very much :)

Hi Anon! (^○^.) I actually love this request, so thank you for sliding it into my askbox ♥

Honestly I love a powerful man - especially a powerful villain - who's just absolutely in love with their wife (♥ω♥.) and would do anything for them, it just brings me joy.

Anyway! I'm rambling abit, but here is your request! I hope I've done it justice (^ω^.) Please enjoy!

Come again to request whenever you want cause I'm always open.

Muzan Kibutsuji being whipped for his wife + Upper Moons Reactions - Headcannons:

You know those types of men that are just unmovable pillars of stone - who look like they were carved from the finest marble by the hands of angels - who are always impeccably dressed with a voice of icy poison and just command your attention?

Who turn to the softest love-struck mush when with their wife

yeah, that's Muzan Kibutsuji with his wife (aka. you)

The finest meals, clothes and jewelry are yours with a click of his fingers - all done to make you happy, to see you smile

Anything that you mention briefly - doesn't matter if it''s a book or a holiday - its yours by the end of the day

Just one smile and a fluttering of your eyelashes has muzan on his knees - a singular pout of your lips has his mind running wild

You just have to breathe and Muzan's heart squeezes, breath stuttering in his chest as he looks at you in adoration

You could ask for the world and he'd give it too you on a platter

Muzan worships you

Each touch from you is a blessing to his skin

Each kiss sealed into him

Each word of love that falls from your lips make him drunk to hear, each sentence thick with a love that leaves hearts in his eyes and his heart thumping wildly

He wants to wear you like a brand - each mark you leave on him (bite marks and all) are worn with pride - and you (and only you) get to touch and mark his skin in such sensual ways

Under his wedding ring, his finger holds your bite mark, something that he begs you to do each day - with love-struck tears pricking his eyes - and it always makes him feel like he's properly yours

"My Love," He purrs with a voice a think velvet "My wonderful wife, my moon and stars, I love you for ever and always" and he kisses you so softly

Sometimes you have to stop this man from wearing matching clothes with you - "But Beloved,"he whimpers with a face liked a kicked puppy "I want us to match" - because he will absolutely wear a matching couples outfit

Other days he just likes sharing the same colour palette

When you worship him by placing soft kisses to his skin - his wrists, knuckles and faces - Muzan feels like he's on cloud nine

Upper Moons Reactions:

When the upper moons first met you, it was by accident - pure accident -they'd been summoned and it just so happened that it was when muzan was just in the midst of kissing you and bathing you with compliments

Kokushibou doesn't even blink and just stands in position like a trained guard, this sight has been something he's accidentally stumbled upon a couple of times before and honestly it makes him miss his wife

Because this isn't the first time he's met you but rather the fifth, the first actually time he met you, you were incredibly respectful of him and actually treat him nicely - you became tea drinking buddies - so he quickly came to like you

Douma/Doma genuinely shrieks - like an honest to god scream - before quickly going to make fun (not a good idea) about how loving Muzan is and, "Why don't you treat us this way Muzan-sama~ You're breaking my heart~"

Akaza looks away from such an intimate scene with respect since it felt wrong to look upon his lord loving his wife - although his heart does ache for some reason when looking at such a perfect loving scene

Hantengu starts sobbing while apologizing anxiously - actually very jealous at how loving the scene is, he wants a wife and to dote on someone

Gyokko simply proclaims it as artful and simply leaves it as such

Daki Blushes a deep crimson - it makes her want a husband to dote on her so much

While Gyutaro simply sighs before looking away - much like kokushibou and akaza in respect - with jealous crawling up his ribs at such love, he wants somebody to dote on and love him so romantically